A Nearby Tower poses the question: if you could see the end, would you continue on to meet it? Using the architectures, fantasy, and hope inherent to theme parks, Bloom posits this question in its most literal form – the queue – while reflecting on the labour and expectation of our collective existential waiting.

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For someone that has dedicated a large amount of their adult life to researching theme park history, I took very few trips to Walt Disney World as a child. I was fortunate enough to go twice, both trips of which live as hazy memories in my mind. I remember sporadic elements of certain rides and shows. I recall the feeling that I had riding a roller coaster, the fear that I felt encountering certain animatronics, and the awe that I experienced in elaborate show scenes. Still, these memories are fluid and unreliable and, I am sure, colored by the promotional material I viewed as a child and my subsequent visits as an adult.

That said, my most tactile, concrete, and immovable memories from the parks at that young age were set in the queues. This is not me reaching to put meaning into something banal to have a fresh opinion, nor is it me trying to write something meaningful or relevant for this exhibition text. It is a mathematical certainty. I spent a few minutes experiencing the ride. I spent hours waiting in the queue.

I have such vivid memories of being stalled in the switchbacks for popular attractions. I remember the feel of the rails on my back as I attempted to lean in order to rest my legs. I remember the temperature of the floors as I sat on the ground, hoping that the line would move. I even remember some of my thoughts that I had at a young age as I waited. After all, what was there to do in a queue in the days before the smartphone?

During one particularly long queue, I attempted to solve the issue of the boring, uncomfortable wait that I was experiencing. I distinctly recall the solution that I came up with: a series of chairs attached to a chain that guests could sit in. This would act as a pre-ride that would slowly inch guests toward the front of the line so that they would not have to stand and walk on their own. As an adult, this idea seems expensive, space-prohibitive, and technically difficult, but if anyone ever manages to pull it off, I want it to be known that I thought of it first.

Years after my childhood trips to Walt Disney World, I wrote a documentary about Disney’s queue system, particularly their attempt at a reservation system named FastPass. I am quite fond of this work, and the obsession with queues no doubt originated during those long waits I experienced as a child. I am not sure if we will ever eliminate queuing or even the dullness of the process. After all, if there is something worth waiting for, there will probably be a wait for it.

— Kevin Perjurer