SLOT CITY

I knew Macau had transformed from the sleepy, Portuguese-flavoured backwater I remembered in the early ’90s into a mega Chinese gambling mecca, eclipsing even Las Vegas in revenue. After 27 years, I returned to create Slot City — a sequel to my neo-noir street series Neonopolis — capturing this futuristic pleasure dome where fat cats and high rollers come to gamble away their illicit fortunes.

As with all my street projects, it takes time for the nuances of a place and a style to emerge. I let what I see and feel shape the visual narrative — the vibe becomes the story. The camera leads the way, finding the frame and mood as the series evolves. That organic process is what fascinates me, and fuels my love for street photography.

In Slot City, the endless floors and walkways of hotels, mega malls, and casinos are the streets — vast retail strips lined with Gucci, Bulgari, Hermès, Prada, and more. Hundreds of kilometers of shopping and dining wind through glitzy complexes, while multi-level gambling floors and towering 60-storey hotels add yet more layers of excess across Macau and Taipa.

Slot City is all about excess — gambling, eating, shopping. Under the bright lights, punters dream and desire, but mostly fall for the ultimate bait and switch. Glamour and Gucci are what’s promised; loss, poverty, and despair are what’s delivered. The odds don’t lie — they bury gamblers in addiction and greed.

Within this gambling frenzy, legions of croupiers, observers, and security guards from places like Wuhan, Manila, and Cox’s Bazaar stand watch 12 hours a day — watching winners, losers, and big spenders, while being watched by the bosses above. Eyes and cameras are everywhere. Frugality is a dirty word in Slot City, except for the low-paid staff. The town runs 24/7 — tourists flood in, shops never close, and hookers linger day and night.

The grandeur of Slot City is staggering — opulence beyond anything I imagined. When I walked here 25 years ago, many across the border still wore Mao suits or rags. Could they have foreseen this level of luxury? Yet now, as they stroll past, heads down in their smartphones, they seem blind to the miracle around them. I certainly wasn’t.

Slot City holds so many layers and sub-stories that five days could never do it justice. What you see here is just the foundation for something much larger.

I’d love to get closer to the tables, to capture the tempo, moods, and characters as fortunes shift. Gaining access will take cooperation—or a spy camera. The hidden sex industry, massage parlours, and karaoke bars also need time and trust to penetrate. For now, I’m content to infer and let my imagination wander behind closed doors. That, too, is part of the fascination.