
Hu also makes a point though his use of color, or lack thereof. By his use of stark monochromatic view adds to the feelings of hopelessness and depression he works so hard to convey. Within the rest of Hu's work, he elaborates on these themes, talking about how those of the districts of Longtang are fighting amongst themselves, fighting to keep their homes, and doing everything possible to make up for their lack of connection with one another. In leaving no color within his photos and taking near-candid looks at the people of his country, Yang is detailing to viewers of any ethnicity just how lost and hopeless these people really are.
These depressed tones even flow throughout the street and nearby buildings. The main structure shows much wear and tear from the years it has weathered, and does not seem to be holding up well. It is being patched with a ragtag assortment of boards and concrete and paint, among others, and, like the people around it, seems only to be holding on by pure force of will. Like the other structures featured in Hu's photos, it embodies how entirely the local population has dedicated themselves to clinging to their homelands, refusing to budge for new houses and mortgages. Even the streets they walk show a similar resilience; it is well-walked and worn, dissolving into patches of broken cement and stone. Those that have lived upon it use it almost as an artery throughout their town, and the weight of their burdened footsteps has begun to manifest itself in their very environment.
All of these elements combined hit onlookers of any background with a weighty message. The people of Shanghai are living on the threads of a world that is rapidly unraveling beneath their fingers. Viewers cannot help but feel sadness when looking upon Hu Yang's work as they enter this land of his heritage. This bleak, unaltered look at these small-town homes gives some of the most unbiased views of humanity yet to be seen, and it is in this simplicity that one can best connect with the people and their trials.