Welcome to this edition of [book spotlight]. Today, we uncover the layers of 'Nothing Serious Can Happen Here,' by Adam Lampton (published by Kehrer Verlag). We'd love to read your comments below about these insights and ideas behind the artist's work.

Macau is proof that capitalism reshapes culture in unexpected ways—just like your neighborhood, every photograph could be a record of what’s lost forever.

As cities transform under the weight of modern development, the familiar spaces we call home often vanish without notice.

Capturing these changes through photography allows us to preserve the essence of our communities before they are unrecognizable. Adam Lampton’s decade-long project documenting Macau’s evolution reveals the urgency of using the camera as a tool to archive what progress tends to erase.

If you’ve ever looked at your neighborhood and wondered how much longer it will stay the same, this article will inspire you to pick up your camera before it’s too late.

Photographs are more than images—they are time capsules of culture, history, and identity.

When Adam Lampton set out to document Macau, he wasn’t just capturing a city; he was preserving stories that would otherwise be swept away by modernization. From colonial-era streets to high-tech casinos, his work demonstrates how photography bridges the past and future, allowing us to hold onto the soul of a place. Your neighborhood, too, is changing every day in ways you might not notice until it’s gone.

The Book

Nothing Serious Can Happen Here by Adam Lampton is a captivating photographic exploration of Macau’s transformation from a historic Portuguese colony to the world’s gambling capital. Over a decade in the making, the book captures the city’s layered identity, where colonial history, Chinese traditions, and capitalist ambitions collide in a unique and surreal landscape.

Featuring 72 striking color and black-and-white photographs, Lampton’s work oscillates between the poetic and the observational, offering a window into Macau’s labyrinthine streets, cultural contradictions, and rapid modernization. Accompanied by essays from Lampton and Tim Simpson, the book contextualizes Macau’s evolution as both a physical and metaphorical space shaped by the forces of time, history, and commerce.

Designed by Kehrer Design, Nothing Serious Can Happen Here is a visual and narrative journey that invites readers to reflect on the complexities of identity and transformation in a place where past and present coexist in surprising harmony. This 120-page hardcover book is available in English and Chinese, making it a must-read for photography enthusiasts, cultural historians, and anyone captivated by Macau’s enigmatic allure. (Amazon, Kehrer Verlag)

Overview of the project: What inspired you to focus on Macau for over a decade, and what story did you want to tell through Nothing Serious Can Happen Here?

The project came about after graduate school. I looked down the road and saw fewer opportunities to dedicate concentrated time to photographic projects. I was interested in traveling and finding a way to make images full-time. The Fulbright fellowship was the perfect combination of those things. I was particularly interested in Macau for more personal reasons - my wife is Brazilian and my father had taught US-China relations for many years. Macau's mashup of Chinese and Portuguese culture drew me in. The more I looked at it (from a distance), the more it struck me as a place that would have many elements that I return to in my images: A complicated history, physical transformation, a sense of artifice. 

Artistic vision and approach: How do you approach capturing the surreal transformation of Macau from a historical city to a gambling mecca while maintaining your personal artistic style?

The surreal nature of the images (at least as I see it) might be a function of how photography presents the world- you can either encourage that interpretation or minimize it on how edit images together. It is also a function of the disorienting effect of seeing things one is not used to seeing together (i.e., Chinese/ Portuguese; Communism/ Capitalism). In terms of how I approached telling that story- I wanted to tell a more human-scale story of transformation. There is and had been in the early 2000s a lot of work done in China talking about the 'massiveness' of the transformation of China into an economic powerhouse (think work like Edward Burtynsky). But in my experience, Macau, while experiencing a relatively huge physical transformation, was best experienced walking down the street and engaging with people. So I guess my 'style' was mainly a function of deciding to stand where I did and maintaining a more intimate distance from the subject. 

Storytelling in photography: Macau is portrayed as a place where colonial history, Chinese traditions, and capitalism collide. How do you visually weave these contrasting narratives into your photographs?

Showing those contradictions (or collisions) was why this work [I always felt] worked better as a book. In terms of sequencing the images and creating a narrative, it might have used tactics that other photographers have always used in laying out a book- riffing on visual elements between images, re-photographing the same site over time, and placing portraits next to architecture to suggest smaller stories within the larger narrative. I think the strength of this work (as it is probably with any work) is how specific it is. Recently, there hasn't been such an emphasis on content in photography (as opposed to more lyrical and abstract imagery). I sound old. 

Challenges and perseverance: What challenges did you face in documenting Macau’s complex transformation over the years, and how did you navigate them while staying true to your creative vision?

Some of the challenges were just logistical and technical- shooting film abroad, I sent back a film (4x5”) to Boston to process because I was not in love with my choices in Hong Kong. By my 2015 trip my only option really was to send it back to New York. I was committed to using the 4x5 throughout because it is such a specific way of working and it speaks to the issue of scale that I previously talked about. I am not sure I would  be able to continue the work the same way now, given the cost of film. It's also challenging to create extensive work in a relatively small area (Macau's not that big). While there is always something new, the newer casinos strike me as sanitizing and homogenizing the space. It’s hard to find that specificity that I talked about in a casino that looks like it could be in Vegas or Singapore. 

Role of the photographer: How do you balance being an observer of history and a creator of art when documenting a city undergoing such dramatic change?

I am not sure I ever felt the responsibility of documenting the city or even the transformation in a journalistic sense. I was more concerned with trying to frame what was in front of me in an interesting way and one that attempted to convey something about the moment- so a truthfulness in that sense. I never fabricated anything in the sense of making up information or context- but I think we've given up on the idea that you can truly separate out observing from influencing (in photography). The neat thing – and something that I tried to communicate in my pictures is that the whole experience of being in Macau is an experience of being out of time and out of place. Because of the way history is layered there- because of the multiple histories I think most people there identify as both inside and out. I know this is complicated as a Westerner – especially in a place with a colonial history- but there are too many perspectives represented in the work to say it boils down to one thing. There’s my perspective as a Western photographer but also moments representing how Hong Kongers see Macanese, how Macanese see mainland Chinese, how locals view tourists, how the Portuguese population see themselves…etc. Everybody (me included) identifies as belonging and not belonging. I think that's the duality that Auden was trying to speak to in his poem (where the title "Nothing Serious Can Happen Here" comes from). He was expressing a dismissal of but a love for this place all at once. 

Technical and creative tips: Your photographs oscillate between color and black and white. Can you share insights on how you decide which medium best conveys the mood or story of a scene?

During these trips, I often took images in both color and black in white. Sometimes, the color of a scene was so integral to the understanding of it - that black and white made no sense. In that way it was a process of elimination. In making a book, you need to think about the emotional intensity of the sequence. I wanted to provide different notes that weren't registering the same, and black and white allowed that break in the action. I don't know if that's the right calculus for every project, but it made sense here. I guess the more straightforward answer is that some images just looked better as black and white OR (even more unremarkably) they only existed as BW.  

Macau as a metaphor: Macau has been described as a “fabulous speck on the earth’s surface” with a labyrinthine logic. How do you translate this poetic chaos into visual imagery, and what advice would you give to photographers capturing abstract or symbolic ideas?

For me, it was just a matter of shooting enough and sitting with the work for enough time (15 years). But I think the work of shooting has to come first - you know how you see the world or how you tend to approach things. Just rely on that instinct when shooting and then do the work of articulating (in words) how you might explain it to others. Shoot, think about it, repeat.

Advice for long-term projects: What practical advice would you offer photographers planning to undertake long-term projects, especially in environments that are rapidly changing like Macau?

I always relied on the 'kindness of strangers' in the sense that I had to relentlessly reach out to people who could introduce me to others, get me in a building, or even stand for a picture themselves. It's exhausting for someone naturally introverted, but it's crucial and probably the biggest reason why projects remain ‘just a few pictures of something’. Find people who might share your interest in a place or a subject and get them excited about what you want to do. 

To discover more about this intriguing body of work and how you can acquire your own copy, you can find and purchase the book here. (Amazon, Kehrer Verlag)

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