All posts by Chen Yuan

Step into the River 她想要穿过河流

June 14, 2022 2022年6月14日

 

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In the dead of night, two young girls row a boat through a downpour. A gust of wind blows the hat off of one girl’s head, and she reaches out to grab it, dropping her oar into the river. Looking towards the water, they see a baby emerge from the currents. In the blink of an eye, their boat is surrounded by similar figures. These mysterious newborns swarm the boat, pushing the girls back to their port of departure. Despite the girls’ longing to leave their small village, they find themselves back where they started.

This the most memorable scenes from Step into the River, an animated short by Chinese director Ma Weijia that examines the issue of gender inequality and societal change. Ma, having grown up in a rural village in China, often heard tales of newborns being left in the river. Most Chinese parents at the time hoped for sons, so when their newborn turned out to be a girl, they abandoned them. As an adult, she met a number of Chinese adoptees, a disproportionate number of which, she noticed, were females. These experiences led her to come to a bleak realization: male chauvinism can come in extreme forms. While gender equality has made great strides in the years since, the haunting image of newborn girls being abandoned in the river never left her mind.


下着雨的河面上,水流湍急,一艘小船,两个女孩,桨不小心脱了手沉入了河底。

远处,游来了某具肉体。

一个婴孩,两个婴孩,一群婴孩……她们面目柔和,不见喜怒。这些婴孩的幽灵托着船,将两个女孩送回了出发的岸边——尽管她们想逃离村庄,去往城市。

这是 90 年出生的独立动画导演马维佳在构思《河岸》这部短片时,第一个蹦入脑海的画面。她想起自己小时候,村里流传着有关很多刚生下来的女婴会被丢弃在河里的故事。后来,马维佳又听闻几次身边女孩被抱养的身世,她切身地感受到:这个社会偏爱男孩。这种不公平的倾向甚至可以不惜代价。虽然现在这样的现象基本已不复存在,但那些婴孩沉入水底的画面在马维佳的脑海里萦绕不去。

Step into the River is told through the perspective of Wei and Lu, two young girls living in the Chinese countryside. Wei is a “stay-at-home child,” a term referring to children left behind in the village while their parents pursued better job opportunities in the city.

In the village, Wei befriends Lu, a girl with a distinctive birthmark on her face. Lu was adopted by a fishermen after she was discovered abandoned on the riverbanks as a toddler. The two quickly became close, bonding together over a shared resentment over being abandoned.

Despite the air of melancholy that permeates the narrative, the film’s art style feels gentle and calming, defined by soft palettes that capture the idyllic lifestyle of the quaint village in faithful fidelity. The fluidity of each frame and the gradient colors that have replaced the sky instill a sense of the fantastical, but the story and characters are unmistakably grounded in reality. To Ma, the story is far more important than aesthetics.

Lu and Wei are based on real-life accounts and some of Ma’s own experiences. Even the poster is based on her childhood memories. Ma kept a goldfish as a pet as a child, and looking back, she realized how cruel it was to confine it within a fish bowl. To her, it’s a curious practice even today—people don’t blink an eye at the thought of restricting another animal’s freedom. There are many clear parallels between a goldfish’s existence and the experiences of many Chinese girls, and so, she thought it a fitting motif for the film’s poster. On the poster, a school of fish seems crowds half the frame. Several human hands reach out between what little space each fish has left behind, as if trying to escape from under their suffocating weight. One single fish has squirmed out of the confines of the composition, as if springing out of the water—a lone, lucky survivor.


女孩,金鱼,跃出水面

《河岸》讲述了 Wei Lu 两个女孩的故事。Wei 是留守儿童,自小由奶奶抚养,有一天她得知原来自己是这个家里的第二个孩子——因为哥哥不幸夭折,才有了她;Lu 在出生的时候被父母丢在了河里,由一名船夫捡起收养,她身上有显眼的胎记,因此时常被村里的男孩欺负。两个女孩走到了一起,她们想走出自己被抛弃的命运。

动画的叙事和呈现风格细腻而动人,透着水乡独有的柔和色调。画面的衔接上尤为出彩,天马行空又保持着流畅自然。但马维佳看重的是故事本身,它从现实而来。

《河岸》中两个女孩的故事都有真实原型,也有马维佳自己的影子。短片中出现的金鱼是电影海报中的主视觉元素,也是马维佳小时候养过的动物。在那个默许着禁锢与残忍的地方,金鱼是超现实般的明亮与慰藉,它好似是一种呼唤:跳出水面,穿过河流。

Ma was born in Chaohu, a city on the rural outskirts of China’s Anhui province. A small river ran through the city, and some of her fondest childhood memories revolved around that flowing stream. The river even inspired her work prior to Step into the River, though the same motif represented vastly different themes in those works.

In her animated short from 2015, The Same River Twice, Ma presents a touching tale of family and nostalgia, with the river in the film representing the generational divide between family members. In Step into the River, the river can be seen as symbolizing the pain of the past. It’s a pain shared by the two female protagonists, their families, and those newborns who never had the chance to grow up.


河流,时间,共同体

马维佳出生于安徽巢湖,河道和她的生活紧密相连。由生命经验而来,河流是马维佳钟爱的元素,在《河岸》之前,她就创作了《父亲与河》这个作品。《父亲与河》呈现的是家庭的记忆,这条在上一代与下一代,在家乡与出走之间顺流而下;《河岸》中,这条承载了特定社会背景下的时代伤痛,它属于那两个女孩和她们的家庭,也属于河流深处那些被剥夺了长大机会的孩子。

“Even though this story isn’t a tragedy, in that the two girls survived and returned to their village, it’s not a particularly happy ending,” Ma says.

The two girls’ lives will go on as it did before their voyage, but their dreams of leaving now feel that much further out of reach. In fact, there is seemingly no escape from their situation. The conclusion of Step into the River is meant to evoke the experiences of girls who grew up during Ma’s generation. Even though they’re survivors, they’ve still been forced to endure their share of unfortunate circumstances. Even less fortunate are the newborns who never got a chance to grow up, and Ma felt that it was important to remember them. “I considered making them into vengeful ghosts, but I decided that I wanted to capture their innocence,” she recalls. “They were pure souls whose lives were snuffed out even though they did nothing wrong. So in the film, they’re depicted as friendly spirits who’re out to protect the girls.”

The river is a silent witness to an ever-evolving world. No matter how the world changes around it, the river remains the same. In that regard, Ma also sees the river as a symbol of time. The river surges in perpetuity, pulling along all that’s caught in its wake. The film’s English title, Step into the River, was conceptualized as a statement towards the inevitability of life. It’s a reminder that no matter who you are, you must step into the river’s eternal currents and be pulled along with everyone else.


虽然这个故事的结局并不是悲剧,这两个幸存者最后回到了村庄,家里也有挂念和等待她们的家人,但这也不是幸运。她们出走到半当中,然后又回到了原点,好像是有一些成长,好像是应该要继续好好生活,但从另一个角度来说,她们其实逃避不了这个环境。就像我们从那个年代过来,身为女孩,可能就是一个幸存者,但我们也都同时担负着这种幸运和不幸。在处理对那些婴孩幽灵的呈现时,马维佳也谈及:其实我也想过是不是要让那些曾经被丢弃的孩子变成某种怨灵,但最后我还想表现出这些生命的无辜。她们本身什么都不知道,什么都没做错,就被扼杀了。反过来,她们会去保护这两个幸存的女孩。无论是河面上想要划船逃走的女孩,还是被埋在河底的婴灵,或是在这片土地上千千万万个成长的女孩,都是社会强力观念之缚下的命运共同体。

河流见证了多少故事,吞吐了多少变幻,哪怕河岸上的世界物是人非,河流依然在奔。在马维佳看来,就是时间的象征。承载一切,又带走一切,流动成永恒。《河岸》的英文名是“Step into the river”,这个名字透着某种决绝:无论是在什么样环境下成长的个体,都注定要踏进河流,逆流的阻力、顺流的迷惘、看不清的河底、同流合在的幸存者或幽灵……那都是发觉避无可避,身处时代之流时的真实触感。

Step into the River was shortlisted at the 94th Academy Awards for “Best Animated Short Film,” and nominated at the 15th FIRST Youth Film Festival for “Best Dramatic Short Film.” These accolades are well-deserved for Ma and her team, who spent the better part of five years developing and producing the film. Despite how time consuming the project ended up being, the positive feedback has made their efforts worth it. “Animation is all about giving movement to still images, and when you go into it with an experimental spirit, there are infinite methods to go about it,” she says. “If you’re bold enough, you can really push the boundaries, especially in how the story is told, but that’s only one aspect. It’s important for directors to establish their own approach to animation—there’s plenty of room for experimentation, whether it be in the art style or in the ways that frames are sequenced.”


流动起来的故事

《河岸》表现不俗,入围了第 94 届奥斯卡最佳动画短片名单、第 15 FIRST 青年电影展最佳剧情短片等多个奖项,这背后是马维佳和团队长达五年的创作成果。动画这种创作形式很耗费时间,但这种消耗交换来的是独一无二的艺术体验。

对于创作者来说,其不受限制的表现方式特别有吸引力。动画,就是要把画面动起来,从实验性的角度来说它的方法是无限的,它所能够触达的目的也更为丰富,叙事只是其中一种。所以对于导演来说,探索一种独特的动画语言很重要,在视觉风格上,在画面如何去动的设计上,都有很大的空间可以实验。

Ma believes that animation is a medium that can feel detached from reality, which can be a perk in that it allows for audiences to digest what may otherwise seem overly graphic or repulsive. “For example, if I wanted to show a baby’s lifeless body, that’d feel too much in a normal film,” Ma says. “If the same idea shown in an animation, audiences will be more willing to view it, and in accepting it, they accept the reality that I want to confront them with.”

Ma sees animation as a medium of endless possibilities, but this can be both beneficial and detrimental. Ma believes her films have been received so well because she places a lot of importance on establishing a clear narrative. However, despite her success with more narratively driven works, she’s also keen on treading into unexplored creative territories with animation going forward. This year, she will be releasing an experimental film that blends real footage with animated scenes. The film will be played alongside a live, improvised score.

For Ma, the river stretches forth far into the horizon, and there’s still plenty of sights to soak in as she continues down its waterway. Oar in hand, she’s excited to see where it’ll eventually take her.


而对于观众来说,马维佳觉得动画赋予了观众更为夸张的观看体验,同时为观众拉开一段安全的接受距离,就比如我的短片里有婴孩尸体的画面,如果是实拍,可能就拍不出来;但如果是动画处理过了,观众就能接受那样的画面,同时接受那样的现实性。

动画这种形式所赋予的创作容量极为庞大,对于马维佳这样倾向于叙事型动画的导演来说,关键便是在这无限可能中找到清晰的作者路径,使得故事能够紧密而灵活地流动起来。她也在一边创作着新的作品,一边探索着更多动画形式上的可能,试图找出一种更利于独立创作的低成本方式。今年夏天,她结合了实拍与动画的实验影像将和即兴音乐融合在一起,在由杨浦大剧院变身的 Young 剧场上演——更多的创作实验在等着马维佳,面对她的河流,那是她手中的桨。

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Contributor: Cheng Li


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供稿人: Cheng Li

Life in Porcelain 陶瓷异想国

March 24, 2022 2022年3月24日

The work of sculptor Wookjae Maeng is populated with inexplicable oddities. Despite bearing realistic resemblance to real-life critters, exaggerations push her porcelain animals into the realm of the surreal. Winged frogs take flight, a stack of small birds perched atop a pineapple, and other strange sights abound his art.

Through porcelain, the South Korean artist speaks to the delicate balance between mankind and the natural world. “My works examine the bond between us and the natural world,” he says. “I make stories about animals in the hope that others will share the positive emotional changes and joys that I have learned from my relationships with them.”


Wookjae Maeng 的作品宛如一个真实存在的变异世界:长着翅膀的青蛙、双头老鼠、小鸟们叠起罗汉站在菠萝上。这是他创造的陶瓷世界,自然和人类是他的作品永恒的主题。“我在叙述关于动物的故事,也希望其他人能够分享我从与各种动物的关系中,能感受到那种积极的情绪变化。”

Mutations are the norm in Maeng’s ceramic world. Through these surreal figures, he looks to inspire reflection on the environmental woes that’ve resulted from human negligence. These themes and messages are essential to Maeng’s art. “With my work, I want people to think about how small acts of kindness can affect the world and animals around us,” he says. “If we work together, we can build a harmonious relationship with the environment.”

For each sculpture, he mixes and matches different animal parts at the whim of his imagination. Once he has a rough idea, it first gets sketched out. He’ll then begin working with clay to bring the vision to life. Over the years, he’s gained a deep understanding of ceramics as a medium。 Its malleability and how different clay reacts to varying temperatures are all aspects he considers when he works. “As I create, I’m always thinking about compositional balance,” he adds.


可塑性极强的陶瓷装置,形成了以变异生命形式为特征的“白森​​林”,突出了人类主导的世界中形成的各种生态和环境危机。Wookjae 坦言,他所寻求的是一种符合自然的生活,即人与非人的共存。“我想通过我的工作传达一个想法,即我们可以为我们周围的大大小小的生命形式,做一些小的考虑行为,可以聚集,营造和谐的生态关系和环境。”

在设计雕塑作品的时候,Wookjae 就设定好了在每件作品中呈现的与内容相关的方面以及详细主题的方向。随后他会根据想象,一件一件地置入合适的动物,在决定好细节元素后,再完成建模、注浆和烧制。为了提高作品的完整性,Wookjae 还必须了解所使用媒介的各种特性,不同的材料其成型的温度不同,金色的瞳孔在最后一次烧铸时才会被点上。

Maeng believes that if his messages about environmentalism are to be seen by larger audiences, his work must be compelling. The golden eyes that he adds as finishing touches to his critters are part of this goal, a way of capturing the audience’s attention. He’s even started incorporating sound design, factoring in lighting, and experimenting with video art alongside his porcelain work. He believes these multidisciplinary approaches add depth to his work. “I constantly think about how to effectively express myself so that audiences will be drawn to the work,” he says.


“在整个过程中,我会不断考虑整体构图平衡与和谐。”Wookjae 说道,得益于从事社会改善工作,他深知引起观众的兴趣来传达内容的重要性,而要做到这一点,则可以用视觉强调,或使用声音、光和视频等媒体来突出主体。“为此,我必须对一种有效的中心表达方式进行大量思考,以吸引人们对每件作品或展览的关注。”每一次观众与白瓷上那一点金色眼睛交流的时候,也就代表着 Wookjae 的成功。

The satisfaction of finishing a new piece of art doesn’t last long for Maeng. After completing a sculpture, he often thinks about what could be made better, and this obsession for perfection motivates him to start on a new sculpture. “Since my work tells stories about the symbiosis of life, they’re based on real personal experiences,” he says. “I strive to pay close attention to the various life conditions and lives around me and to imagine life from their positions. I seek to express the thoughts of other life forms. If we listen with even a slight interest, the life forms around us will gift us with valuable experiences, emotions, and inspiration.”


完成一件作品的喜悦并不会持续多久,Wookjae 表示,他很快就会意识到有其他可以强化的地方,这个过程的重复强化了他的创作欲望。“我的作品大多关于生活,是根据个人经历创作的各种主题的故事。我正在寻求表达我在这些日常经历中想到的其他生命形式的想法。如果我们带着一丝兴趣去倾听,我们周围存在的各种生命形式,都会赋予我们宝贵的经验、情感和灵感。”

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Contributor: Chen Yuan


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供稿人: Chen Yuan

Turning a New Page 在上海,挑战着“不可能”的书店

March 3, 2022 2022年3月3日

“They’re saying that you’re about to open a bookshop. That shows you’re ready to chance some unlikely things.” —— an excerpt from Penelope Fitzgerald’s 1978 novel The Bookshop

 

In modern times, opening a brick-and-mortar bookstore can almost seem like a fool’s errand. Considering the proliferation of e-books and online shopping, the exorbitant cost of renting a storefront, and the new uncertainties that have arisen from the pandemic, it’s clear that the cards are stacked against physical bookshops now more than ever. A recent industry report of China’s bookstores outlines this grim reality with sobering statistics: between 2020 and 2021, for every new bookstore that opened, an average of 2.6 stores closed down. In this hostile environment, business acumen and clever marketing are essential to survival. But for a bookstore to truly succeed, what matters above all else are perhaps most dependent on the literature on offer and the people they’re meant for.

In Shanghai, a city where every inch of land is worth its weight in gold, there are still independent bookstores making it work. The existence of these places speaks not only to the tenacity of the owners but also to the fact that there are still a handful of pertinacious bookworms who accept no replacement for the tactile experience of reading a paperback.

No two bookstores are alike, and this is precisely what makes places such as Lekai Books, Melibrary, Rhino Bookstore, Distance Bookstore, Upper Bookstore, and Text&Image so irreplaceable. From the owner’s motivations to their curatorial approaches, every store is constantly changing, adapting, and hard at work in cultivating the local literary scene.


他们都在说你打算开一家书店。那说明你准备好要向不可能的事情挑战。

——佩内洛普·菲茨杰拉德《书店》,1978

 

步入 2022 年,书店似乎依旧是个不可能的事。特别是在经历了电商低价、电子书浪潮、房租上涨、疫情反复等冲击后,开不下去的书店并不少,但根据《2020-2021 中国实体书店产业报告》显示,2020 年,我国新开的书店新开书店是关闭的 2.6 。面对这个艰难的挑战,应题者不绝,谈模式谈策略,但说到底,热闹褪去后,活下来的书店离不开

在上海这个寸土寸金的地方,有这么几家独立书店,让不可能的事正在发生:因为开书店的人,也因为还会去书店买书的人,这种连结依靠的并非是情怀,而是日复一日不倦怠不罢休的经营与探索。活下来的书店,坚守有之,更重要的是如何面对变化。

没有一家书店是相同的——乐开书店、小茶书园、犀牛书店、远方书屋、半层书店、梯书店——在探访这些书店的过程中,这一点让人印象尤为深刻。从开一家书店开哪一种书店,每一家书店都是在选择和反馈中不断前行。


 

Rhino Bookstore



 

犀牛书店

Situated alongside Suzhou River, Rhino Bookstore is a secondhand bookshop that has been through its share of ups and downs. Their first location opened in 2007, a distance away from downtown in the Minhang District. It shuttered its door just a year later, but the two then owners—Zhuang Jianguo and Ya Shu—refused to give up on their dreams so easily. Their next venture was a store specializing in poetry books, which similarly didn’t find footing. The two then split ways to open their own stores, with Ya reopening the poetry bookstore and Zhuang reopening Rhino Bookstore in a new location with his friend, Tou Tou.

The new location is a 30-square-meter store populated with wooden shelves loaded to the brim. The shop mostly deals in secondhand literature, all of which have been curated with a preference towards art, history, and philosophy. With their affordable but quality offerings, the space has become a place for literature lovers of all stripes. “We’re not just selling books,” says Tou. “The different editions we carry in our shop are what sets us apart.”

As he sees it, the differences between varying editions are one of the qualities that e-books can’t replace. Even though a book may have the same content and text, depending on the publishing date and the publisher, each print will be completely different. For true bookworms, these are an essential part of the literary experience.

To find the most sought-after editions of a book requires experience and industry know-how, which Zhuang and Tou are in no lack of. They regularly hunt down vintage books, searching through old markets and Taobao listings. When they come across a gem, they’ll spare no expense in purchasing it. For buyers in the know, the price is still a bargain for what they’re getting.

In 2015, before the new store opened, Zhuang even worked as a regular shop staff at an antique bookstore to better hone his eye for quality older books. Tou says that they were confident about opening this new store, and their past experiences have given them the resolve to weather any storm. “Improving the quality of our offerings, updating the literature on deck, and making the prices as affordable as possible are important to us,” he says. “We want to make sure that everyone who comes into our store can leave with a book they like.”

 

Address:
1040 N. Suzhou Road, A101
Jingan District, Shanghai

Hours:
14:00 ~ 20:30


位于苏州河畔的犀牛书店是一家感觉酷酷的旧书店——骨子里的酷是因为专业。2007 年,犀牛书店在莘庄开业,可惜一年之后就关了。书店里的两名店员庄见果和亚述没有放弃自己的书店梦,先是一起开了家诗歌书店,后来又分头开店,一家继续着诗歌书店开闭开,还有一家就是沿用了老名字但主营旧书的犀牛书店

走进犀牛书店,30多平方米的面积里满满当当。书以文史哲为主,有定价亲民的优质读物,也有具有收藏价值的民国古籍和文玩,还有一个锁起来的柜子,是店主舍不得卖的但会和朋友们一起分享品鉴的宝贝。其实我们不仅仅卖内容,更多的是会卖一个版本。店主之一透透介绍说,她是后来加入犀牛,和小庄一起开店的朋友。书的版本,是电子书替代不了纸质书的一大因素——同样的内容,不同的出版社和年份也意味着不同的稿件质量和装帧排版,会带来不尽相同的持书体验,对于爱书之人来说,这一点并非无足轻重。

而选到好的版本,则需要店主丰富的专业知识和经验判断,店主小庄和透透在开书店前就是旧书市场的常客,他们逛鬼市、淘宝贝,对于看中的书不手软,也相信好的东西总会遇到懂的人。在 2015 年重开犀牛书店之前,小庄还特地在一家专门做古书的店里做过学徒。按照透透的说法,因为懂行才会开书店,所以没走过什么弯路,这么多年下来虽然几经搬迁,但也站稳了脚跟。提高书的质量,保证上新频率,想办法让价格不那么贵,就是想让每一个进店的人都能买到自己喜欢的书。在这里,就是把简单的道理做好。

 

地址
上海静安区
北苏州路1040A101

营业时间
14:00 ~ 20:30


 

Upper Bookstore



 

半层书店

At 200 square meters, the sheer size of Upper Bookstore alone makes the independent bookstore a rarity in Shanghai. Its mezzanine, a key feature of the shop, has inspired the store name. Aside from the mezzanine, the space was fully renovated before opening its doors to the public in 2015.

The store originally focused on books written in simplified Chinese but now hosts an even larger selection of literature from Hong Kong and Taiwan, which come in traditional Chinese. This rich selection of books from Chinese-speaking regions outside the mainland set it apart from others in the city. Every book for sale has been handpicked by the management team, who lean towards human-interest literature that fall outside the bounds of mainstream. Aside from the content within a book’s pages, how it’s designed is another important factor they consider in the curation process. “Sometimes we’ll think we’re picking books that are too niche or obscure and worry about if people will even want to buy it,” says Wang Yi, the store manager. “But we ended up realizing a lot of people like this type of literature.”

Their unique selection has fostered a strong community of loyal readers who look forward to any new addition to their shelves. Wang admits that the store may sometimes feel daunting for new customers, but by having great titles on the shelves, people will naturally warm up to the store. Once they see the wide range of books available, customers require no additional convincing. The owners’ love of books shines in different ways throughout the space—from a sculpture crafted from salvaged books to a display on the second floor dedicated to books written about bookstores.

In response to the pandemic, Upper has trialed a number of new business models. They’ve hosted secondhand book exchanges, started a membership program, launched a paid-knowledge platform, and more. Despite these new additions, its reputation for quality has remained consistent.

Wang has been the manager ever since the store opened, and she believes its core ethos hasn’t wavered through thick and thin. “Even though its appearance has changed a lot, the store has stuck with its original philosophy,” she says. “It’s an inclusive place that welcomes all types of people and ideas. It won’t be easily steered away from its original direction by outside influence.”

 

Address:
129 Harbin Road
Hongkou District, Shanghai

Hours:
12:00 ~ 21:00


作为一家独立书店,半层书店 200 多平方米的面积显得大气而奢侈。店内重新设计的小半层结构也是店名的由来。自 2015 年装修开业以来,半层书店就一直在周围还遗留着老上海气息的哈尔滨路上低调而稳定地开放着。

半层一开始是以简体新书为主打经营,调整经营策略后港台引进图书的比例增高,占到五成左右,形成自己的选书特色。每一本书都是基于书店团队的喜好和审美水准精心挑选,内容和主题偏人文,看重装帧,有的书会比较小众,小众到店长王壹觉得有时候我们会想这么小众的书谁会买,然后发现还挺多人喜欢的。而正是这种有一些书确实只有我们这儿有的小众和独到,使得半层吸引了一批忠实的顾客。虽然王壹自称半层可能是一个比较高冷的书店,觉得将好书摆在书架上,就自然而然会和客人形成某种交流,无需多言,但半层对于的珍爱之情会体现在一些细节上:他们会用旧书页做成精美的原创文创;会在一进门的推荐位及上楼的拐角黄金位摆上以书店和书为主题的书。

为了应对疫情带来的冲击,高冷的半层也在慢慢做加法:尝试会员体系、换书会、知识付费等各种路径增加营业额,难得的是每一项的策划和执行都不失创意和质感。店长王壹从半层开店第一年起在这里工作,她眼里的半层有着自己稳定的内核:这几年虽然外部变化很多,但是我们自认为还是坚持在做我们想做的事情,未来也会继续这样的状态。半层书店会是一个冷静且包容的,欢迎爱书人的书店。

 

地址:
上海虹口区
哈尔滨路129

营业时间
12:00 ~ 21:00

Photographer: FD Kyle 摄影师: Kyle 脚步不停
Photographer: FD Kyle 摄影师: Kyle 脚步不停

 

Distance Bookstore



 

远方书屋

Photographer: FD Kyle 摄影师: Kyle 脚步不停

With the pandemic, Upper Bookstore chose to increase its range of offerings and services, but Distance Bookstore’s method of survival was one of reduction.

Distance Bookstore is located on the second floor of a nondescript office building off of Suzhou Road. The owner, Zhou Ying, admits that when she decided to open the store in 2016, she went in with a rather naive mindset. “It was tough,” she notes but says that she was aware of the challenges that she’d face. Aside from just selling books, the store also peddles coffee, set meals, and can be rented out for small events. Even with these additional profit streams, the shop barely scraped by.

“I went in assuming that books alone wouldn’t be profitable, so I wanted to implement these other ideas,” she recalls. “I thought it’d also make the store feel more multidimensional, but in reality, they didn’t add much to the space.”

Her mindset changed after becoming a mother in the early days of the pandemic. She realized she didn’t have the energy to tend to these other aspects of the store and decided to concentrate more on the book-selling side of the business. “In reality, that was already a ton of work,” Ying says. “You have to keep up with new books being published, and stocking second-hand books is even more time-consuming. If I wanted to add 30 or 40 secondhand books, I’ll need to spend three or four days combing through the content. It’s also quite physically demanding, especially because I try to attend pop-up markets as well.”

Distance houses a healthy selection of both new and secondhand books, with even a small area dedicated to indie prints and publications. In the summer of 2021, the cafe area was further shrunk down to accommodate more bookshelves. This business pivot proved to be a hit with the customers. Today, the store—against all odds—is thriving as much as ever.

 

Address:
876 Jiangsu Road, Bldg. 3, 2F
Changning District, Shanghai

Hours:
12:00 ~ 21:00


面对疫情的冲击,半层选择做加法,而位于江苏路一栋商务楼2楼的远方书屋则在做减法。远方书屋于2016年搬到了这里,店主周迎当时什么也没想就开起了书店,所以按她的说法,一开始到处都是困难。不过她对开书店很难这件事也有心理预期,所以去学了咖啡,也做简餐、活动,但效果也十分勉强。

因为总觉得不赚钱,然后总想着去做别的事情贴它,看上去很丰富很多元化,但其实你的主体性很低。直到成为了妈妈又遭遇疫情,周迎不再有精力去顾那么多事,于是下决心好好做好这一件事。事实上这就已经够忙的了,要了解新书出版的动向,二手书进货会更耗费时间,比如进三四十本旧书,我要花3~4天的时间去挑品相挑内容。体力还要跟上,我差不多每个月还也要出去做集市。远方书屋出售新书,也有二手书,从店主的兴趣出发,以文学类和民族类的书籍为主,还有一小块绘本区域以及一些意外之喜的独立出版。在夏天的装修中,她缩减了原来的餐饮区域,增加了书架的面积。专注之后,书店的经营反而好转起来,也给了周迎现在渐渐觉得可以了的信心。

 

地址:
上海市长宁区
江苏路876号贵冠商务中心3号楼2

营业时间
12:00 ~ 21:00

Photographer: FD Kyle 摄影师: Kyle 脚步不停
Photographer: FD Kyle 摄影师: Kyle 脚步不停

 

Lekai Books



 

乐开书店

Photographer: FD Kyle 摄影师: Kyle 脚步不停

Lekai Books is a bookstore that’s in constant flux—endlessly experimenting, making mistakes, and learning from them. The store’s first location was in a subbasement level of a shopping mall off Loushanguan Road, tucked away in a difficult-to-find corner. It was the first bookstore in Shanghai to try a subscription model, loaning out books for a modest fee. At its peak, Lekai had three stores in the city.

There was one point where Lekai was completely shut down as well. For a small period of time, the founder— Zhao Yanping, more affectionately known by the nickname of Snail—closed down all the stores and hauled books around the country in their car, essentially becoming a mobile bookshop. In 2019, Lekai finally reopened a new store in a creative park off of Wending Road.

Upon entering, the store’s calming ambiance seems to immediately drown out the city’s bustle. The new store still offers a book rental service, but it hasn’t really affected their book sales, which have only increased over the years. “With a decade of experience, I believe that we’ve really polished our curatorial approach,” says Yanping. “We sell art products and offer coffee too, but they’re not what we’re good at. Our bread and butter is still selling books.”

Lekai carries more varied genres than the other shops on the list, but no shortage of effort has been put towards picking the best books from the differing categories—a metric Yanping quantifies by whether or not the book has re-read value. Their curation is painstaking work, but the effort truly shows.

Comprehensive knowledge of literature is required for this type of curation, and it’s a skill that Lekai isn’t reluctant in showcasing. Starting in 2019, the store began throwing events called Bookshelf X, which is designed to help patrons discover worthwhile books that they may otherwise miss out on. It’s not common for the store to host an event around a singular title, which they’ve done for Japanese photographer Ryoji Akiyama’s Chūgoku no Kodomotachi and Mitchell Duneier’s SidewalkThe store has also held numerous events supporting ECHO, a Taiwanese magazine with a focus on traditional Chinese culture.

In the summer of 2021, Bookshelf X ran a new show with a focus on local publications. The event spotlighted some of their favorite magazines from around the country. All of these events are meant to make literature and reading seem more approachable and fun, a goal that Yanping feels to be as important as ever.

 

Address:
218 Wending Road, Bldg. B, 2M
Xuhui District, Shanghai

Hours:
11:00 ~ 21:00


不断加加减减不断在试错中进步的是已经开店十周年的乐开书店。2011年,乐开开在娄山关路地下商城的一个角落里,是上海第一家主打租书业务的书店,最鼎盛的时候乐开同时在上海开了三家书店,也曾在实体店关闭之时开着车满中国地做移动书店摆书摊卖书,几乎尝试了各种可以想到的书店经营方式。如今,乐开搬进文定路的创意园区,电梯上去,整个书店由内而外的温馨气氛成了天然屏障,隔开了周围嘈杂的业态。

店里依然保留了租书的业务,而售书所取得的收入也在大幅提升。店主赵艳苹,也就是大家熟知的“蜗牛”说:“经过 10 年的积累后,我觉得我们选书的能力有了大幅提升。虽然店里也有卖文创和饮料,但数量不多只是配角,我们最擅长的还是卖书。乐开的选书涉及面较广,而要在好几个领域内都要选出蜗牛所认为的值得反复阅读的的好书来,可见背后所耗费的心力与时间。

自 2019 年开始,乐开就会不定期地举办+X”的主题展,初心也很纯粹,就是希望通过展览把更多好书推荐出来,他们甚至会为一本书做展,比如曾为《你好小朋友》举办“秋山亮二《你好小朋友》1&2摄影展”,展出青艸堂为大家精选的两册摄影集中极具代表的作品,部分作品为首次展出,带领大家回到书中所拍摄 20 世纪 80年代也会为喜欢的汉声出版社做相关传统文化的主题展,包括展出书籍封面、幕后文献、绝版藏书、民艺藏品等,其中展示的编辑笔记让许多读者对这套书背后的匠心印象深刻,由此种草;2021 年夏天,书架+X”的主题是在地刊物,展示了各个区域的优秀杂志。此外,礼物书、福袋书、书架上的读后感小贴士……这些试图让卖书更有趣、更有效的努力,就像是店里随处可见的手写痕迹,充满了想要把这一本书传递到你手上的心意。

地址
上海市徐汇区
文定路218号画家街B2M

营业时间
11:00 ~ 21:00

Photographer: FD Kyle 摄影师: Kyle 脚步不停

 

Melibrary



 

小茶书园

Melibrary is a store opened by Luo Qi, and it first opened its doors the same year as Lekai Books. During the pandemic, Luo was forced to rethink his approach to operating as a book retailer. Having been in the business since 2011, with past locations that include Haining Road, Wanti Guan, Pudong, Hongkou Museum, Fudan, and M50 Art District, Luo has always considered his shop as an experimental space rather than a traditional bookstore. Aside from just selling books, he frequently organizes events, exhibitions, live shows, reading clubs, round-table talks, poetry slams, and more. His stores, at their core, are places that can facilitate book lovers to meet one another. In 2019, Luo was propositioned by an investor to open a 240-square-meter store in Hangzhou, and he agreed. To focus his efforts, he closed his only two locations at the time. But in an unexpected turn of events, the pandemic hit, and the investor dropped out. For the first time in a decade, Luo found himself without a store.

“Without any locations to manage, I had time to reflect,” he says. “When I was running my stores, that was where all my attention was focused. Whether it was making money or not, my mental bandwidth was completely dedicated to those stores. But I was suddenly pulled out of that comfort zone. I consider it fortunate. I started thinking about how a bookstore could last in this digital age, how it can be made into something different.”

Luo, with a large remaining inventory of books, decided to move it all to a new store in Qinghu, a much cheaper area on the outskirts of Shanghai. The store was designed around the concept of a bookstore in the “wilderness.” Not long after, collaborating with a friend, he opened ShanShui Xu – Melibrary, a space where people can enjoy traditional Chinese tea and peruse great literature. This newest venture, the expansion of his philosophy around community and literature, now has locations in Wujiaochang and Xintiandi. The store operates around the philosophy of books being a bonding agent, one that can be used to connect people from different walks of life. To facilitate a stronger sense of community, these locations regularly host book clubs, salons, and discussion forums. While Luo has felt his efforts to be rewarding, he’s hardly complacent and believes that there’s still plenty more work to be done.

 

Address:
345 Guoxia Road, 3F
Yangpu District, Shanghai

Hours:
11:00 ~ 20:00


小茶书园的店主罗奇则在疫情期间对书店进行了深刻的思考。罗奇从 2010 年开始开店,先后在万体馆、浦东大拇指广场、虹口多伦美术馆、复旦、M50、锦江都城酒店、复兴坊开店……他认为书店是一个场域,渴望建立人—书—人的社区。除了卖书,他也很热衷于策划各种活动,在书店里举办过真人图书馆、寻找有故事的老房子·邬达克、阅读的马拉松、艺术展览、音乐会、庄子读书会,诗歌跨年活动等,为喜欢书的人提供更深一步的纽带。2019 年底,有人愿意出资,邀请罗奇到杭州开一家 240 平方的书店,为此,他将复旦与 M50 的两家门店关了,全心投入新店的筹备与策划中。不料 2020 年疫情来袭,投资人放弃了项目,开了近 10 年书店的罗奇一时成了没有书店的人。

在没有书店的时候还是做了点反思。之前日常开店是沉浸在其中,不管这个店是盈利或者不盈利,每天是在一个频率里面,会有惯性,但突然之间打破了这样的一种单纯的工作生活状态再反观开书店,在网络、技术改变带来的人的消费和生活方式发生不可逆的情况下,书店要如何使经营成立,如何破局,值得重新定义和思考

罗奇将大部分的书都搬到了房租较为便宜的青浦,布置成大自然书房亦可作接待作用。之后,与朋友合作,开设了山水序·茶书房这一新形态,在五角场的锦江都城酒店和新天地的复兴坊都有据点,将原本开书店的一大核心以书会友之社群深挖,书连接的是人,连接的是同样在读书的一批人,继而以读书会、沙龙、俱乐部、知识付费、原创文创等深度运营的形式继续连接人—书—”。后疫情时代,罗奇对于重新定义书店充满了想象但这仍然不是罗奇心中满分的书店,关于书店的实验和探索一直在路上。

 

地址
上海市杨浦区
国霞路345号锦江都城酒店上海五角场店3楼都城公社

上海市黄浦区
复兴中路55337号前门

营业时间
11:00 ~ 20:00


 

Text&Image



 

梯书店

“Before considering how a bookstore can be profitable, I believe it’s more important to think about the bigger picture—for example, the merits of books as a medium and why reading is meaningful,” says Zhou Andi, the founder of Text&Image, a bookshop opened in the French Concession in 2020. “Is it possible that people in the future won’t need to think for themselves, and the most intelligent people of society will have the answers the masses are looking for? If thinking is no longer needed, then critical thought won’t be valuable. If that happens, then reading will become obsolete and books will be an item of luxury.”

As evidenced by Andi, not every indie bookstore owner has an optimistic outlook on the future of books, but their efforts in the present are undeniable. It’s an effort that’s best summed up in the Japanese novel Bookstore Die, which says that book retailers are the last stand against the death of physical books—these are people willing to stand up to the test even if there’s only a shred of hope.

To that effort, Text&Image isn’t only a bookstore. In 2018, it started off as a publisher and design studio. Their offices continue to operate in a room behind the retail space. Andi’s impetus in starting a publishing company and a bookstore are one and the same: he just wants to introduce good books to more people. He believes that less can be more, and his shop space operates under this ethos. Text&Image is mostly stocked with publications imported from overseas, and there’s a clear affinity towards niche titles with eye-catching designs. The genres available in the store run the gamut but lean towards art and sociology. Books aren’t just cluttered onto shelves—they’re stocked tidily, and with prices that match online shops, new books are constantly being stocked. “Our store is small, so I hope that every visitor can see the whole space when they come in, even if they don’t purchase anything,” he says. “It opens up the possibility of them discovering new publications that may broaden their worldview.”

The store’s curatorial chops and approachable environment has garnered many returning customers. “As a physical bookstore, there’s not a lot of margin,” Andi laughs. “Being profitable is near impossible, but we can at least break even. Knowing that it doesn’t turn profit makes it easy, and I know we can survive, but if I expect the store to generate income, then it becomes difficult.”

As of now, Text&Image is getting by and the positive feedback from customers has him feeling motivated, but Andi adds, “We still have time to improve upon the formula.”

 

Address:
42 Tianping Road
Xuhui District, Shanghai

Hours:
11:00 ~ 21:00


在思考如何把一个书店做得更有利润之前,我觉得在更大的层面上也需要一些思考,比如关于图书作为一种媒介,关于阅读本身。” 2020 年底刚在天平路上开店的梯书店店主周安迪在思考这样的问题:当大众文化趋向于越来越娱乐化、碎片化后,“有没有可能越来越多的人不需要思考,只有最聪明的人去思考去发明,然后大家享用这个思考结果就行。”如果思考的土壤不存在,人类对于思考的价值观就会全然颠覆,那阅读就会变稀有,书就会变成越来越像奢侈品的一种存在。” 

不仅是书店,从2018年起也进行着图书的出版与设计的工作,现在团队的办公室就安在书店深处的一个房间里。做出版和开书店的初心是一样的:想把自己认可的书介绍给更多人,提供更好更少的选择。梯书店的书有很大一部分是外版书,也有诸多选题有趣、装帧精致的小众书籍,类型上以社科、艺术类为主,排列上并不密集,定价接近电商,保持勤快的换新频率。我们书店很小,我希望进来的人都能逛一圈,不买也没关系,但有可能就会遇到他之前不太关注但确实能带来交叉视角的书籍。

梯书店的选书之道和平易近人的营业风格为他们积累了不少回头客,对于书店来说,卖书的利润率很低,作为一个盈利模式来说几乎不存在,能做到的就是覆盖成本。其实做一个不赚钱的东西可能反而没有那么难,要生存下去相对容易,但你要让它变得赚钱是很难的。在周安迪心里,现在的梯书店还在及格线徘徊,但收到的反馈与肯定让他觉得格外奢侈,我们还有时间把它做得更好。

 

地址
上海市徐汇区
天平路42

营业时间
11:00 ~ 21:00


In the age of Taobao and Amazon, it’s hard for physical stores to compete with the low overhead of online-only retailers. But Yin of Distance Bookstore believes that in the case of purchasing books, the online experience is lacking. “Personally, when I buy books, only when I can see the book in front of me do I know whether or not it’s something I want to purchase,” he says. “I don’t know what I’m buying online. When I do try and order online, what I receive in real life is often different from what I originally envisioned.”

Yanping agrees with this sentiment. “A lot of customers who make a purchase do so after they come in and flip through our offerings,” he says. “Only then can they determine whether or not it’s something that they’d like to read. They understand the effort our store put into curation, and they enjoy being in a physical store, so they’ll choose to shop with us.”

Despite the perks of a physical location, all of these retailers naturally also make sales online. When the pandemic flared or when business slumped, WeChat and Weidian (a Chinese online shopping platform) have proved to be valuable tools. Convenient as they may be, these online channels are by no means ever the main focus. Even when a book is shown sold out on their online shop, Rhino Bookstore will often leave a few copies for customers who make the trek to their physical location. “We don’t want to disappoint customers who come and can’t find something they like,” Yin explains.

These owners, despite their varied goals, believe that the sense of community and the face-to-face interaction that a physical location offers simply can’t be replaced. This human warmth is worth their efforts.

Readers who cherish the tactility of a paperback are what keep these stores running, and a large percentage of the patrons are the younger generation. They range from passersby who work nearby to Taobao shoppers who are unable to find certain editions online. For these bookstores, no matter who they may be, customers aren’t simply customers—they’re the building blocks of the local community of readers.

Yin believes that the people who visit his store are what makes it such a special place. “Whenever I’m interviewed, they’ll ask if I can share an interesting story about some of my customers, and I’m never able to answer,” he says. “The fact of the matter is, everyone, is interesting in their own right.”

One person who recently finished a book came to Yin’s store and purchased a new copy, asking for it to be given away for free to the next person who comes along looking for the book. At Text&Image, one especially avid reader ordered several boxes of books. Their order was large enough that the owners became concerned, suggesting for them to finish a few books before coming back to purchase the rest. At Melibrary, a lot of attendees to their book club end up hosting future book clubs. Yi says the joys of a bookstore are cumulative, built up day after day.

Penelope Fitzgerald’s The Bookshop ends on a rather melancholic note:

“As the train drew out of the station she sat with her head bowed in shame, because the town she had lived in for nearly ten years had not wanted a bookshop.”

With the arrival of a new year, the bookstores we featured in this article have no plans of slowing their footsteps, but many others will be forced to shutter their doors for good. It’s a difficult environment, one that may force readers to ask themselves whether or not they need physical bookstores? Will we be ashamed of our answers?

No matter what the future may hold, perhaps now is as a good time as any to visit your local bookshop.


并非每个开书店的人都乐观,但他们一定都很努力,某种程度上,书店是一种如果还有一丝机会来得及去面对问题,都要面对的存在。

互联网时代,在电商上购书固然有价格优势,但它也确实让买书这项行为变得扁平。远方书店的周迎说:我买书的话,只有当我看到了这本书的样子,我才会知道我想不想买它。在线上我会不知道买什么,就算有时候在线上下单,收到书时还是会和想象中有出入。乐开书店的蜗牛也说,很大一部分我们书店买书的客人,是喜欢看到实物翻阅一会儿才知道这本书是不是他想阅读的,然后才会购买。他们也认可你在背后付出的选书的精力和时间,喜欢书店的存在,所以会在实体书店买书。

拜访的这些书店都有各自的线上渠道,在疫情反复之际,或是线下生意不怎么好的时候,微店或朋友圈的营业就作为营业额的重要补充和支持——但也仅仅是补充而已。犀牛书店会刻意将一些好货留在店内,怕到店里来的客人挑不到东西会失望;许多书店在谈及这个问题时,都会说到线下书店中发生的人与人之间的关系无法被替代。这种关系究竟是什么,能够被托付如此的认定和付出。

各种各样来书店买书的人让这些书店依然能靠着为主营业务继续前行,他们有的是在附近工作或正好路过,有的是寻觅一些绝版书前来捡漏的淘书客,有的因这家书店的选书对味而常来,还有很大一部分群体是年轻人……但实际上,在书店店主眼里,来买书的人并非是某一种用户画像,而是真实的一个个人。

犀牛书店在微信公众号持续更新着值日僧日记,将来买书的人买了什么书一一记下;远方书屋的店主说:几乎所有采访都会问有没有比较有意思的客人故事,但其实我答不出来,每一个都很有意思;有人在乐开书店看完了一本书,然后买下,让店主送给下一个会对这本书感兴趣的人;有人在梯书店买了好几箱的书,买到书店的人劝说:先别买那么多,看完再看来买;小茶书园的很多书友会变成下一个分享者;半层的王壹说,书店的喜悦是日常中一点点积累而来。

一本本书,传递到一个个人手上——这种传递无法被标签化,因为每一次的传递都有每一次的意义。在整齐且大音量的时代声音中,书店里的流动总显得小声而自由。在书店的书架上浏览着一本本书的时候,人面对的不只是书,还有自己——松弛的、打开的、独一无二的自己。在书店,人与人之间的关系是怎样发生的?接纳、珍爱、善意、求知的喜悦、量力而为的日常……它呵护着,关系便自然生长。

小说《书店》的结尾是:火车开出站时,她坐在那里,羞愧地低着头,因为她生活了将近十年之久的小镇,并不需要一家书店。

新的一年,受访的这些书店会继续向前走,也有不少书店止步或是暂停于2021。现实对于书店往往很苛刻,正如它对理想的世界一样。我们的生活需要书店吗?答案会使我们羞愧吗?

去逛书店吧。

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Contributor: Cheng Li, Chen Yuan
Photographer: Chu Jie
Additional Images Courtesy of FD Kyle


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供稿人: Cheng Li, Chen Yuan
摄影师: Chu Jie
附加图片由 Kyle脚步不停 提供

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Minimal China 美丽中国

September 21, 2021 2021年9月21日

Kris Provoost has been mesmerized by architecture for as long as he could remember. Born and raised in a quaint village in Belgium, cities captivated his imagination. He was especially enamored with skyscrapers, with their delicate linework, minimal silhouettes, and sleek facades. Unable to shake this love of architectural design, he naturally pursued a career in architecture as an adult.

His earliest architectural jobs were at design firms in Beijing and Shanghai—two of the fastest developing cities in China. The unique glass-and-concrete forms that sprouted up in these tier-one cities inspired him to pick up a camera and capture them in all their glory. Photography soon became a new obsession, and as time passed, he realized that architectural photography was where his true passion laid.


在比利时小镇上出生和成长的  Kris Provoost,很早就开启了对大城市的热爱——简洁的线条、简单的形状、清晰的架构,现代化的建筑最让 Kris 着迷,这种吸引力后来令他成为了一名建筑师。

在以建筑师为职业的前几年,Kris 先在北京定居,后搬到上海,这两座现代大都市日新月异的发展和层出不穷的新颖设计,让他决意去记录形形色色的建筑本身,彻底把工作重心转向了专业建筑摄影。

Provoost is an incredibly patient photographer. Before he takes a single image, he spends time studying and observing the building he intends to photograph from every possible angle. He believes that only with close scrutiny can he catch the details that might otherwise be missed. To him, all buildings deserve this respect, considering the amount of time and effort that went into their design and construction.

This detail-driven process comes naturally for Provoost, whose eye for photography has been honed by his time as an architect. “In today’s age, everything moves so fast, ” he says. “It’s really hard to really observe things closely, and that’s why I like my job: I can take the time to really look, observe, dissect, and capture these works.”.


每每拍摄一栋建筑,Kris 都会在现场认真观察很久。因为这些矗立在城市里的庞然大物,从设计到建造都需要耗费不少的时间,而唯有这种事无巨细的观察,才能赋予它们应有的尊重。另一方面也是出于的“职业惯性”,因为只有从各个角度去观察和揣摩,他才能完全理解这些作品的结构体系。“在我们这个一切都如此快速的时代,真的很难去仔细看清一样事物。”Kris 说,“这是我最喜欢我的工作的地方,我可以花时间真正地去端详、观察、剖析,然后用照片捕捉那些瞬间。”

Though documentation is part of his work, Provoost’s photography is not only documentary in nature. He believes that his snapshots of Chinese architecture capture the zeitgeist of the country—a place of constant acceleration, defined by megalopolises that change at breakneck speeds. “China moves quickly, and that’s what makes it so interesting,” he says.”I know that when I revisit a place, it’ll be different, even if it’s only slight changes. There will always be new things that grab my attention.”


Kris 所做的又不仅仅是记录建筑。他把建筑摄影着眼于当今中国,试图去抓取时代洪流中的一个个奇异的时刻——这个仿佛被按下加速键发展的国度,每个城市都生动形象地诠释着什么叫做“瞬息万变”。

“中国的变化非常迅猛,这让我觉得非常有趣。因为我知道,当我下次再重访一个地方时,它就会和上一次不同,哪怕是些微的变化,总是会有新的事物来吸引我的注意力。”Kris 清晰地了解,当按下快门的那个时刻开始,所有的一切都将发生变化。这也是令他着迷的另一重原因。

Provoost works around the philosophy of taming chaos, in that his images aim to present complex architectural feats in simple, visually harmonious frames. His experiences as an architect have re-shaped the way he views cities, and he believes that plenty of lessons can be learned if people can be more mindful of the history and story behind the buildings that make up each city. “By truly looking and observing, we can find out works and what won’t, what needs to change, what ideas from the past can be re-used,” he says. “Whether they’re architects or not though, I hope people who view my images can walk away feeling inspired.”


“让复杂的事物看起来平静有序”,是 Kris 在拍摄时的终极目标。从建筑师一路走来,他对城市建筑怀有深刻的情节,这些建筑和其所构筑的城市并非一蹴而就的结果,而是充满意义的历史过程。“这对今天的意义在于,我们需要真正的观察,然后才能做出明确的决定,什么需要改变,或者我们可以从一个地方学到什么,并在其他地方实施同样的想法。 Kris 说道,“我希望人们从我的工作中获得一件事,那就是让他们看到我们的世界受到启发。”

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Website: www.krisprovoost.com
Instagram
: @krisprovoost

 

Contributor: Chen Yuan


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网站: www.krisprovoost.com
Instagram
: @krisprovoost

 

供稿人: Chen Yuan

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Squared Away 几亿集装箱的故事

July 22, 2021 2021年7月22日

Shipping containers are a common sight in today’s world—whether hitched on the back of a semi-truck, repurposed as makeshift breakrooms for construction workers, or stacked up high in cargo ports. These containers are precisely the focus of photographer Manuel Alvarez Diestro‘s Boxification.

The series, shot across different ports in Asia, showcases how these colorful containers shape our urban habitat. In his images, some are piled up high, others are strewn across lots, forming expansive terrains of corrugated metal. Alvarez’s photos call attention to a simple truth: these overlooked containers are now an essential pillar of global commerce, and in a way, they represent Asia’s ever-expanding presence in international trade.


它是我们从小到大最熟悉的风景线之一——从路上大卡车装载的铁皮箱,到小区施工方住的临时房,再到上海各个港口来往的货船上,集装箱,成为了一代代人成长回忆的一部分。Manuel Alvarez Diestro 在《Boxification》系列中创造的景象,恰恰是我们熟悉的这部分城市景观。

这些影像来自于亚洲的几个知名港口,色彩斑斓的集装箱成堆地垒起,在岸边如林立的高楼一般拔地而起。而无论是从摄影的角度还是从经济的层面来看,这些铁皮箱子都似是一个绕不过去的庞然大物,它占据了大块的自然风景,成为全新的地标——当然,也象征着亚洲经济的崛起。

Diestro’s photographic interests began in the 90s when he was attending university in Paris. The towering skyline of La Défense, Paris’s business district, captivated his imagination, inspiring him to try his hand at architectural photography. This creative passion followed him to the U.S. where he graduated with a degree in art history from Boston University. Upon finishing school, he decided to travel and snap as many photos as he could. As he continued making images, he found that cityscapes and urban environments intrigued him the most, especially in how a city’s expansion affects the surrounding world.

Diestro believes shipping containers capture the essence of our urban existence—a mechanical world where everything has been standardized and consumption is king. To highlight their prevalence, he turned his attention to the ports of Asia’s biggest metropolises where these freight boxes are kept and moved daily. “The ports with high traffic and large amounts of shipping containers were most interesting to me,” he says. “I began studying them.”

Throughout the course of shooting Boxification, he lived in Seoul, but spent time traveling to ports in places such as Shanghai, Qingdao, Kaohsiung, Singapore, Hong Kong, Busan, Bangkok, Tokyo, and more.


Manuel 第一次接触摄影,是在他 90 年代大学期间住在法国巴黎的时候。当时,拥有众多摩天大楼的“拉德芳斯”商业区正在建设中,他开始拍摄垂直结构的照片。从波士顿大学艺术史专业毕业后,他决定环游世界并拍摄自己曾到访过的城市。那些和“城市的建设以及与景观的关系”相关的视觉主题,特别吸引他。

作为城市景观的代表之一,亚洲不少知名的进出港,就成了他关切的选题。“尤其是那些在亚洲拥有最大集装箱运输量的集散地,我对这些都进行了研究。”Manuel 说道,在韩国首尔生活期间,他去过上海、青岛、高雄、新加坡、香港、釜山、曼谷和东京……《Boxification》系列就是在这个过程中应运而生的,以拍摄船舶集装箱为主题。

What first drew Diestro to shipping containers is their sense of mystery. You can’t see what’s inside; yet, they carry items of importance for different people, whether it be furniture, electronics, toys, or clothing. They come from different points of departure and are intended for different destinations. To him, his photographs are similar, except instead of cargo they carry stories and meaning, which only reveal themselves once you look past the surface.


每一个箱子里,都装载着不为人知的重要物资,它可以是家具、电器、葡萄酒、玩具、衣服……林林总总,各有来源和目的地;而对 Manuel 来说,每一张照片,也都承载着不同的背景和故事。

According to United Nations trade data, there are nearly 180 million containers worldwide. Despite the staggering number, COVID-19 has led to shipping container shortages due to increased import demands and containers stuck in locked-down countries. “These containers are a necessary requirement to maintain a healthy global economy,” Diestro notes. “In challenging economic times, these containers are still important, if not more so. With the rise in e-commerce, more companies are buying more containers to safeguard themselves from future disruptions. Almost everything we buy and consume came from inside a container.  It’s interesting just how indispensable these metal boxes are for the economy.”

Through his images, Diestro hoped that people will see these shipping containers that play such an essential role in our everyday lives in a new light. “I will continue photographing the relation of humans with the landscape and particularly when building new cities,” he says. “I will keep making work that make us reflect about who we are and our place in the world, even if people aren’t visible in the image.”


根据联合国贸易数据显示,全球有近 1.8 亿个集装箱。但是由于 COVID-19,世界现在也正面临着集装箱贸易的处理能力问题。 但 Manuel 觉得,集装箱贸易是维持全球经济健康的必要条件,“即使在充满挑战的经济时代,随着越来越多的人通过电子商务购买产品,越来越多的公司正在购买库存并减轻未来的任何中断,集装箱运输仍能保持非常强劲的运作。我们购买和消费的大部分产品都装在一个容器中。这些标准化尺寸的彩色金属盒在全球经济中不可或缺。”作为一名摄影师,他想要通过关注港口集装箱的活动,就可以给观众呈现一个个非常有说服力的故事。“我将继续拍摄人与景观的关系,尤其是在建造新城市的时候。即使没有人出现,我也会不断创作引人注目的图像,让我们反思我们是谁以及我们在世界上的位置。 

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Website: www.manueldiestro.com
Instagram: @m.a.diestro

 

Contributor: Chen Yuan


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网站: www.manueldiestro.com
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供稿人: Chen Yuan

Twilight Gradients 晨昏薄暮,画者行路

June 29, 2021 2021年6月29日
5—6 pm-24, 2020. Oil on board, 25 x 35 inches. Photo by Azumi 《5—6 pm》-24,2020。木板油画,63.5 x 88.9 cm 摄影:Azumi

The colors of dawn and dusk have long captivated the imagination. For Guo Shuling, the twilight hours are especially inspiring. When the clarity of daylight is washed out by hazy pastels, she sees the world as a place steeped in mystery and romance. These feelings are precisely what the Chinese painter looks to reproduce on her canvases. “Dusk and dawn are when the sky turns soft and misty, colored in by beautiful gradients,” she says. “There’s a calm to the evanescence of the moment.”


晨昏时刻的薄暮总是令人欢喜。

郭淑玲爱着这样昼夜交替似明似暗的时刻,世间万物仿佛脱掉了清晰的壳,笼罩在一片片迷蒙的天光云影里,无从描绘的情愫暗生,而这正是她执笔想画的。“晨与昏的天色以及被天光笼罩下的万物,显得轻柔、模糊、渐变,有一种这个时分特有的平缓和虚无飘渺的情绪。”她说,而天地大美无言,用色彩来传递这种复杂的情感最直接。

5—6 pm-20, 2020. Oil on board, 14 x 11 inches. Photo by Yun Kai 《5—6 pm》-20,2020。木板油画,35.5 x 28 cm 摄影:云开
5—6 pm-18, 2020. Oil on board, 25 x 35 inches. Photo by Azumi 《5—6 pm》-18,2020。木板油画,63.5 x 88.9 cm 摄影:Azumi

Guo’s understanding of color has changed drastically over the years. The vibrant colors of her earlier paintings have given way to the soothing pastels of her current palette, where soft tones coalesce into one another to form ethereal gradients. This artistic transformation has largely been influenced by her move from Beijing to the U.S. East Coast. There, the new sights and experiences she soaked in completely changed how she saw the world. Moving away from family also left her feeling vulnerable, which led to a more inward-facing artistic approach, one that’s allowed her to reflect on notions of self and ego. Her visual vernacular has shifted in tandem with her new worldviews, and the gentleness of her art now better represent her current state of mind.


郭淑玲的画,是个“由浓转淡的过程”。如果看她之前的作品,是更深沉的颜色,比如湖蓝、墨绿、暗红色,但现在是更柔和的色彩在逐步蔓延。甚至颜色与颜色之间也没有分明的分界,像是海天一色一般的融合。 这样的转变是人生轨迹的折射——几年之间,她从北京搬到了美国东海岸,目光所及的风景变了;生活也发生了巨变,至亲的离开让她切身感受到“无常”,过去作品里的那种激情和外放被重塑了,画中色彩逐渐变得温和。

她说,近几年的她在寻求“向内生长向下扎根的力量”,“自我”会被放在很低的位置,而这样的心态也影响到了她用色的喜好,直观反应在画面上的话,就是色彩变淡了。

5—6 pm-25, 2020. Oil on board, 35 x 25 inches. Photo by Azumi 《5—6 pm》-25,2020。木板油画,88.9 x 63.5 cm 摄影:Azumi
5—6 pm-23, 2020. Oil on board, 35 x 25 inches. Photo by Azumi 《5—6 pm》-23,2020。木板油画,88.9 x 63.5 cm 摄影:Azumi

“When the light fades and the air is wet with moisture, the sky feels more delicate, imbued with a sense of the unknown,” Guo says. “I like to paint these dense pockets of color where light and shadow, warmth and coldness intermingle. It makes my paintings feel alive.”


“浩浩阴阳移,乾坤日月长。”郭淑玲说道,“尤其当光线微弱或是空气中有很多水分的时候,景象就更为虚无缥缈、神秘广博。我喜欢把明暗和冷暖的变化压缩在一个非常小的域值间,使画面有更微弱的呼吸感。”

5—6 pm-13, 2020. Oil on board, 12 x 12 inches. Photo by Yun Kai 《5—6 pm》-13,2020。木板油画,30.5 x 30.5 cm 摄影:云开
5—6 pm-16, 2020. Oil on board, 12 x 12 inches. Photo by Yun Kai 《5—6 pm》-16,2020。木板油画,30.5 x 30.5 cm 摄影:云开

All of Guo’s recent works, including the series 5-6pm, were completed on a boat out at sea. Adrift off the Florida coast, she paints in peace. “Florida is flat and humid,” she notes. “Both of its coasts have white, sandy beaches, and at dusk, translucent colors cover everything.”

To Guo, the world is a beautiful place. Sights and sounds are equally able to capture her imagination, and the intrinsic beauty of life on earth grounds her to the here and now. She finds comfort in the colors that define our world, and she hopes to capture a fraction of that beauty and harmony in her large-scale paintings. With layers of colors forming textured gradients, her canvases evoke the feeling of being afloat somewhere between heaven and earth.


她最近的一些油画作品是在船上画的。比如《5-6 pm》系列里的大部分作品,在海天一色中取景,也在海天一色中完成。光影变幻,她既是见证者,也是创作者。

“佛罗里达地势平坦,空气水分充足,东⻄两岸绵延不绝白沙如糖的沙滩。傍晚时分,天地间就满是柔顺如羽毛般的颜色。”在郭淑玲的表述里,所见所闻是天然带着美感的,这一切也让她“感觉安心”,仿佛置身于一个色彩包围的圈。她把这一切用足够大的尺寸去描绘,用水平线的构图,寻求一种视觉上的稳定与平衡,这也让人站在画前,就有立在天地间的感受。

Skin is another series that was completed at sea, though the inspiration comes from the land and on a much more micro level, focusing on flowers. Guo admits a longstanding fascination with plant life, and the way they’re able to form such unique structures, patterns, and colors. “When quietly observing a flower’s different parts, I discovered that its surface and texture was very similar to human skin,” she says. “That’s how I came up with the name of the series.”

The contours, linework, and colors of the paintings in this series are conjured from the depths of her imagination. Rather than simply capture a flower’s physical qualities, Guo aspired to depict the intangible, so each painting is designed to only have a faint resemblance to actual flowers. “I regard plantlife with the same reverence as people,” she says. “They don’t judge or operate any under false pretenses—they simply watch on.”


《皮肤》系列也画于海上,不过它们是深入微观的一面,是来自郭淑玲看花时片刻的入迷,那种颜色的渐变、花瓣的交搭关系,让她感受到现实和想象之间模糊的边界,“足够安静且距离很近地凝视花的局部,那种表面的肌理和起伏的确很像人类的皮肤。所以就索性命名为《皮肤》了。”她说,这组画里每一朵花的轮廓、线条和颜色都被重新编排,似花非花,脱离了现实的体,郭淑玲是试图描绘它们灵性的根。“我把植物看作是人一样平等的一个存在。不批判,不妄议,谦逊地感受观看这些事物。 ”

Skin-5, 2020. Oil on board, 12 x 12 inches. Photo by Yun Kai 《皮肤》-5,2020。木板油画,30.5 x 30.5 cm 摄影:云开
Skin-2, 2020. Oil on board, 12 x 12 inches. Photo by Yun Kai 《皮肤》-2,2020。木板油画,30.5 x 30.5 cm 摄影:云开
Skin-1, 2020. Oil on board, 12 x 12 inches. Photo by Yun Kai 《皮肤》-1,2020。木板油画,30.5 x 30.5 cm 摄影:云开
Skin-4, 2020. Oil on board, 12 x 12 inches. Photo by Yun Kai 《皮肤》-4,2020。木板油画,30.5 x 30.5 cm 摄影:云开

Guo believes art is an expression of life; nothing more, nothing less. It’s the externalization of an artist’s inner world. She views intuition as the most important part of creating art, with technical abilities being secondary. Though it’s a rather straightforward philosophy, actually putting it into practice requires a lot more effort. Like the greats of the past, Guo believes simplicity makes for the best art. With this mindset in tow, she presses on, refining and improving her style.


郭淑玲并无心刻意追求画面的禅意,她更觉得绘画是一种非常生理性的表达方式,是从作者思想的外化。若说对绘画更深层次的追求,她只说自己理解的艺术创作,首要是靠直觉,其次才是技术。那个过程和道理,形容起来也不难,不过是“至简至易,至精至微”。

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Instagram: @shulingguo

 

Contributor: Chen Yuan
Images Courtesy of Guo Shuling and Fou Gallery


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供稿人: Chen Yuan
图片由郭淑玲与否画廊提供

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Searching for Belonging 致我们从未有过的生活

May 18, 2021 2021年5月18日

 

无法观看?前往 Bilibili

“A pound of pork, two sprigs of spring onion, then mince up some onion and ginger. Add the salt and pepper, stir it up, and then the meat filling is ready.”

The opening scene and accompanying dialogue to The Coin, a short film by Chinese director Song Siqi, is enough to leave peoples’ stomachs growling, not only for food but for the flavors of home.

At age 10, Song moved abroad to study and she spent most of her adolescent years at a boarding school. She never spent a long stint of time back home until university, where she attended school in both Los Angeles and Beijing. These experiences have largely altered her idea of home. Whenever she traveled back to China to visit friends and family, it never felt like home—she felt like a visitor. In Song’s work though, she approaches the topic of “home” with unabashed clarity and confidence.


“一斤猪肉,两根大葱,姜、蒜,切碎了,加上佐料,搅拌均匀,这样啊,肉馅就做好了……”这部短片《硬币》(The Coin)的第一段,就让不少人给看饿了——这个“饿”,是思乡的胃,饿了。

早在 10 岁的时候,导演宋思琪就已经离开自己的家乡在外地求学,一路寄宿学校读上来,再到大学以后就去了北京和洛杉矶,她对“家乡”的概念有些模糊,那里仿佛只是一年一度走亲访友的念想,长居之所不在此,自己更像过客;但她对“家乡”的概念又很清晰,清晰到每一件作品里都透露着自己的文化和信仰所在。

The Coin centers on the Chinese New Year tradition of slipping a coin inside a dumpling’s filling. Whoever eats the coin-stuffed dumpling is believed to be endowed with good fortune for the rest of the year. “The coin is essentially a wish, a blessing from your own family,” she says.

To capture what this tradition means to her, Song decided to animate the entire dumpling-making process, from preparing the filling and rolling out the dough to wrapping and cooking them. Of course, the most essential ingredient of all wasn’t forgotten: the coin, which to Song, was a “multifaceted symbol that represents parental love and a connection to heritage.”

The six-minute-long film is made up of over 5,000 stop-motion frames, but being a completely independent production, it took nine months to complete.


在《硬币》里,宋思琪找到了一个传统中国北方的文化符号——被包在饺子里的硬币。在逢年过节的时候,按传统习俗是需要在饺子中包上一枚硬币,倘若有人有幸能吃到藏着硬币的饺子,则也代表着交上一年份的好运。在宋思琪的理解中,“硬币就是一个美好的愿景,一个家庭对未来的寄托。”于是她把如何做“剂子”、如何揉面、如何包饺子,统统用定格动画的形式做了出来,她说,她只是“想用硬币这一象征,表达我对家庭的思念,以及我对融入异国他乡的体会。”这部短片是在一个支持独立电影人的艺术项目里完成,所以从剧本到成片用了整整九个月的时间。有六分钟的片场,拍了大约五千张照片,以满足高难度的动作以及运动镜头的要求。

In the film, the female protagonist is moving away from home to a foreign country. On her journey, she’s brought a jar filled with coins collected from the lucky dumplings she’s eaten over the years. Upon arriving, she decides to grab lunch at a local cafe. As soon as she sits down though, she realizes that she left her jar on the train. This realization begins a nightmarish sequence into her psyche, where she’s attacked by an assortment of Western dishes—hamburgers, pasta, and pizzas. Every circular ingredient on these dishes reminds her of her lucky coins, but they’re just not quite the same. This hellish episode represents the intrusion of Western culture, which seems ready to happily erase her Eastern roots. With the coins missing, has the good luck she accused over the years also run out? Is her connection to her homeland forever gone, never to be found again?

Thankfully, the film ends on a happy note. Looking deeper inwards—shown by the protagonist entering her own stomach—she discovers the coin, the symbol of her heritage, isn’t really gone. One of the missing coins is embedded in her stomach lining. As it turns out, cultural roots aren’t that easily upended. “‘Finding’ the coin again is a blessing that I’m giving myself,” Song says.


在短片中,她在前往异国他乡的路途中弄丢了自己积攒的硬币,而这似乎成为了她无法找回身份的一场梦魇:汉堡、披萨、意大利面,西式简餐开始取代她的日常饮食,而包裹着好运硬币的饺子早已不见了身影……每一个圆形的物件都让她回想起硬币,但每一种都不是。硬币弄丢了,好运也不见了,那么其承载的文化根源也消失了吗?

在短片里,宋思琪依然留下了一个美好的结局:它在她的胃里。当然,宋思琪说,“找到这枚硬币也是我对自己未来的一个美好的愿景。”但硬币所代表的深层涵义,她希望能以这样的方式传递出去:外在的文化符号不过是流于表面的物件,但留存在人们身上的,是伴随着一个人成长历程一路走来的记忆,那是牢牢印刻在每个人身上的文化印记。

 

无法观看?前往 Bilibili

Home and family are topics close to Song’s heart, and this affinity is obvious throughout her work. Her short film Sister, which was nominated for an Academy Award in the Best Animated Short Film category, follows these same thematics. “I designed the characters and sets based on old family photos,” she says. “I wanted to tell a story through the lens of my childhood nostalgia.”

Sister is about an only child who’s dreamed up an imaginary sister. He conceives an elaborate story in his mind, of them playing around and growing up together. “It’s based on my own brother,” Song says. “It’s rare to have siblings because of the one-child policy in China. Growing up, when people would hear I had an older brother, they’d ask me, ‘What was it like growing up with an older brother?'” With this in mind, the story was meant to capture the “unique experience of growing up in her generation.”


宋思琪感兴趣的题材,大多都和故乡和家庭有关,此前获得奥斯卡金像奖最佳短片奖提名的作品《妹妹》也是,“我收集了不少自己小时候的家庭照片,然后根据照片来做人物和置景。”宋思琪说,“因为我想创造出一个和儿时记忆一样的环境,去呈现整个故事。”

这部影片讲述的,是一个独生子幻想着和自己从未出生的妹妹一起成长的家庭故事。“我有一个哥哥。”宋思琪说道,“作为被‘超生’的一员,独生子女这个话题从小到大一直围绕着我。因为我大部分的同龄人都是独生子女,从小只要别人听说我有一个哥哥,他们就会问我‘跟哥哥一起长大是什么体验’这类问题。”种种因缘际遇下,她创作了这个作品,以纪念“我们这一代人独有的成长经历”。

In the film, the two siblings’ interactions and mannerisms are all based on Song’s real experiences. Growing up, she and her brother often fought over the most trivial of matters. “We were kids though,” she laughs. “Now that we’re older, we don’t really fight. We’re quite close.”

Song’s brother, now studying as a post-grad, is even working with her on a script about immigrating to the U.S. In real life, her parents are also far more progressive than their in-film counterparts. Song considers herself quite lucky. Even though her parents don’t come from creative backgrounds, they’re fully supportive of her artistic ambitions.

In summing up Sister, Song wrote a singular line: “Dedicated to the siblings we never had.” With this film, she hopes for viewers to walk away with a new perspective on familial love. This heightened sensitivity to family dynamics is perhaps what makes her work so touching—she taps into the primal human yearning to belong and be loved.


短片里面兄妹间发生的事基本都取材于真实事件,从小到大兄妹之间为了小事吵架打架的次数不胜枚举,“不过那些都是小时候的事了,年纪大了以后争吵少了,关系亲密很多。”她笑说,念历史研究的哥哥近期甚至有在和她合作一部关于美国移民历史的长片剧本。而父母则更宽容了,宋思琪表示自己很幸运,即使家人毫无艺术背景,但他们几乎无条件地支持自己的儿女在自己感兴趣的领域深耕和发展。

在《妹妹》的影片简介里,宋思琪写了一句话:“致我们从未拥有过的同胞手足。”她希望这部短片能给更多人对手足至亲这样的家庭纽带有更深入的了解。或许也正是这份对血缘的敏锐与感念,才让宋思琪的作品如此感人——她唤醒了人内心最柔软的一部分,对家庭、对归属的渴望。

As someone who’s experienced both of Western and Eastern culture, Song has conflicting feelings: sometimes the world feels so minuscule, while other times it can feel immensely vast, with large gaps between us as individuals. “I hope people can empathize with one another, and through stories with universal themes, people can realize that they’re not all that different,” she says. “Through my films, I want to bring different people together.”


“我想拍一部能把人与人连接起来的电影。”宋思琪如此说道,作为生长在中美两个文化环境下的一代,有时她觉得世界很小,但有时又觉得世界很大,人与人彼此之间的隔膜很宽。她的愿望是创作出“能帮人们更好地理解彼此”的电影,并让一些通用的故事,把人们联系起来。

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Contributor: Chen Yuan


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Pandemic Bound 留学生败给了疫情吗?

April 29, 2021 2021年4月29日

Shi Yuewei hasn’t been home for 19 months. She’s stuck overseas.

This unexpectedly extended stay in New York has forced her to bear witness to an America under siege by an unchecked pandemic: months of stay-at-home mandates; store aisles swept clean of masks, hand sanitizer, and toilet paper; and the bustling streets of Manhattan abandoned. Her classes at the School of Visual Arts were canceled or rescheduled to be held online.

Covid-19 has had a far-reaching impact, the brunt of which has been felt by everyone to varying degrees. International students are just one of many affected by the outbreak, and others face similar predicaments as Shi Yuewei—those already overseas can’t return home due to limited flights and exorbitant ticket prices, and those preparing to study abroad had to cancel their plans entirely.

In this new normal, is studying overseas still worth the risk and stress? In an unfamiliar country, what happens in these times of unforeseen emergency? For those already overseas, is the high cost of tuition and renting an apartment worth it when only online classes are available? If the online courses offered are the same, why even travel abroad? We caught up with a few students with aspirations to join the creative industry to get their take.


施悦玮 还没有回国,这是她待在纽约的第 19 个月了。

19 个月没回家的日子里,她见到了美国应对大规模传染病而展露出来的、罕见的另一面:长达两个月的居家隔离,医疗防护设备抢购一空,往日人来人往的街道上几近无人……作为一名纽约视觉艺术学院(SVA)的学生,本应需要准备设计制作丝网印刷的教学课程,也全部停摆,改成了上网课。

疫情几乎让全球各行各业都面临停摆。随之而来的,是国内留学市场持续半年的低迷期,在外的学子回不了国,国际航班机票价比天高,还将面临各国不同的自费隔离政策,而于此同时,在国内的“准留学生们”计划又全被打乱……

疫情尚未完全宣告结束的当下,出国留学是否必要成为了不少人内心悬而未决的疑问——国外人生地不熟,如果碰到健康安全问题怎么办?学费生活费居高不下,但换来的却是几个学期的网课?一样是提升自己,留在国内读研好像也可以?

A Turn of Events

Chinese nationals are a sizable majority of the international student population. According to China’s Ministry of Education, over 25 million Chinese students studied abroad between 2016  — 2019. In 2019 alone, over 7 million students studied abroad. The appeal is obvious: earning a degree overseas will help them land better jobs after graduation, they can learn a new language, and it’s an opportunity to broaden their worldview. Of course, aside from purely academic goals, there are also those who see a student visa as the first step toward foreign citizenship. For those with strictly academic ambitions, universities abroad seem to have stronger reputations. Chinese higher education is often ranked low against international counterparts. In the 2020 Quacguarelli Symonds World University Rankings, only 12 Chinese universities made it into the list of 100, and none made it into the top ten.

But now, with the Black Swan event that is COVID-19, many Chinese students are second-guessing their decision to leave the country. Concerned with the virus handling overseas, they’re delaying or completely scrapping their plans of going abroad. Universities around the world have also tightened their visa restrictions, which has added a layer of difficulty for Chinese students who are planning on studying abroad.

Shi Yuewei enrolled at SVA in 2017 for a degree in illustration. In the summer of 2019, she flew back to China like she does every year, spent quality time with friends and family, and headed back to New York to complete her studies. Little did she know that she wouldn’t be seeing them again for the foreseeable future.

For Handowin He, who finished a degree in visual communication at SVA and returned to China in 2020, her plans were equally disrupted. Right before the pandemic surged, she was preparing to participate in several illustration exhibitions and book fairs in New York. These plans have all been abandoned.

Some Chinese students haven’t even been able to leave the country. Before the pandemic restrictions set in, Fang Yuanli spent all her waking hours building her photography portfolio, with the hopes of getting into one of the two England universities she applied to: the Royal College of Art and the Ruskin School of Fine Art. She was ecstatic when she was accepted into the former, but that excitement was short-lived. “All of a sudden, I couldn’t go anywhere,” she says.

Currently living in Shanghai, Hunan-native Song Yang is another student whose plans of studying outside of mainland China have been put on the backburner. At the end of 2019, he quit his job and planned on studying art history. He intended on enrolling at the City University of Hong Kong for Fall 2020 classes, but that plan went out the window.

“Everything happened so fast,” he recalls. “I followed the news early on. I was skeptical of the rumors on Douban saying that it may be a mutated variation of SARS, but then, all of a sudden, I found out I couldn’t return home to Hunan for the Chinese New Year. Hubei, our neighbor providence, was on lockdown.”



1/ “太突然了吧”

 

来自中国的学生构成了全球最大的国际学生群体。根据中国教育部的数据,2016 至 2019 年,中国学生出国留学人员总数 251.8 万人,单 2019 年度就有 70.35 万人。出于许多原因,留学对中国学生来说具有相当的吸引力。许多人认为获得国际学位有助于他们毕业后获得更好的工作,同时也获得了学习外语和拓宽视野的机会。当然,也有不乏一部分人觉得出国留学是移民的途径之一。根据高等教育分析公司 Quacquarelli Symonds 在 2020 年的全球前 100 名大学中,仅有 12 所中国高校在排名中——中国缺少一流的大学,也导致了有些人由于对国内教育体系的不满而来国外学习。

2020 年成了留学市场上的一只“黑天鹅”,许多留学生和他们的家庭出于对健康的担忧而推迟了原本的学习计划,国内外的高校则也限制了签证和入学。这一来,就拦住了许许多多中国留学生们的步伐——已经出国的,即将赴读的,刚刚毕业的。

施悦玮是四年前申请上的纽约视觉艺术学院插画系,在疫情来前的一个暑假,她和往常一样回国旅游、探亲、访友,然后登上了飞往纽约的班机,一切好像和往年没有任何不同。

无独有偶,Handowin He 上的也是在几年前申上的纽约视觉艺术学院,念的是视觉传达。在疫情来临前,她刚毕业不久,正在筹备去纽约参加插画书展等活动。

而方苑郦和宋扬的留学之旅就不是那么顺利了。疫情开始前,方苑郦精心准备了自己的作品集,包含三个相互关联的摄影项目。她同时申请了两所学校,英国皇家艺术学院和牛津大学的 Ruskin 美术学院,然后不负众望地被皇艺 MA Photography 项目录取了。得知这个消息后的她还挺高兴,万万没想到的是,“之后,我就出不去了。”

宋扬没能如期出国。住在上海的他是湖南人,19 年底,他辞掉工作想去追寻自己想学艺术史的梦想,准备“出去看看”。如果顺利的话,他原本打算在 2020 秋季前往香港城市大学入学。但事情的发展有点出人意料,用他的话来说是:“太突然了吧。”

“我从疫情开始在国内爆发就一直关注着,一开始有人在豆瓣网传是‘变异版的 SARS’,我还将信将疑。一直到春节前吧,我忽然发现我不能回老家了——隔壁省(湖北)封城了!”宋扬意识到,这场疫情好像比大家预想的要更严重。

From Offline to Online

In WeChat groups organized by overseas students, lively chatter broke out at the onset of the pandemic. Typically, these chatrooms are quiet, but as news of the virus spread, they came alive with anxiety. Students turned to these groups for answers. Bunker down overseas or fly back to China? Take a hiatus next semester? Is enduring the time-zone difference to finish out the next semester of online courses an option? When do tuition refunds get processed? Can student visas be extended? Can rent be reimbursed?

As more information about the disease became known and quarantine policies were established, universities around the world quickly adapted. Online courses were announced, new campus protocols rolled out, and students affected by the pandemic were offered counseling services. Tuition refunds were also quickly issued and deferred enrollments were allowed. The lenience of these new policies gave Song some peace of mind.

Being that Song had hopes of enrolling in a Hong Kong university, the start date was about the same as mainland universities. This meant he needed to submit his application by February. “But the virus didn’t ease off, and after the lockdown, my family didn’t want me to risk it,” he says. He decided to play it safe, and with the savings he had, there wasn’t much downside to staying in place. “It’s not a bad idea to keep preparing for the IELTS and try to score higher.”

Fang Yuanli is someone else who chose to delay her enrollment to the Academy of Royal Arts in London. Even though online courses are available, the tuition is no less expensive. For now, she’s decided to join the workforce until the pandemic subsides. She began freelancing for Sanlian Lifeweek, a Chinese publication, and has recently joined their team full-time as a staff photographer.  Although this was different than her original plans for the year, she believes she’s still on track with her future goals. “I plan on applying for the Magnum Photography and Social Justice Fellowship this year,” she smiles.

For Shi, the internet has become her only means of connecting with the outside world. “It’s not that different with online lectures,” she shrugs. “Most of the classes still feel the same. It’s not unlike listening to a lecture in person, and there are still one-on-one reviews. There are advantages, in that exhibitions are now often held online, so I don’t have to go out—which is great for an introvert like me.”

But there are also plenty of drawbacks. Two of her designs for a project in spring required the use of a screenprinting press, which was available for free at the school. The project was ultimately scrapped.

Shi also planned on participating in two exhibitions, which were both moved online. As opposed to viewing them in person, she found that digital exhibitions had far more limitations. “It’s different to see your own work on screen than in person,” she says. “It’s a pity that exhibitions have had to move online. Despite the real size of your work, they’re reduced to the size of the viewer’s screen. The overall impact, the details on the work, and the work’s physical textures get lost in translation. Also, you’re forfeiting the opportunity to meet like-minded people who you can bounce ideas off of, which is one of the greatest perks of holding a normal exhibition.”

Similar sentiments are shared by He. “All the connections I’ve made offline feels like they’ve been severed,” she says. When she was still attending SVA, the school held a lot of offline events, which can no longer be done. “I attended a different event every week when I was in New York. It allowed me to meet so many talented artists from different fields, but that’s no longer possible, even if the events are still around in a digital format. The interactive element of it is gone. Face-to-face communication is still the best way to build relationships.”



2/ “线下所有资源和体验都没了”

 

与此同时,大家在微信上看到留学生群里开始了热烈讨论,一些平时往往只在毕业季会有的讨论,此刻却炸翻了锅:回国还是留校?索性 gap 一学期还是忍着时差上网课?学费退款何时审批?签证和房租是不是能及时续补? 随着疫情逐渐蔓延和人们对其的认知逐步扩大,国外的高校陆续开始响应隔离政策,推广线上网课、安排防疫护具、安抚留学生心理,相应的退学与延期入学政策也逐渐放开,这让宋扬少许安了一些心。

宋扬想申请的是香港院校,遵循和内地差不多的开学时间,他本需要在 2 月前递交学校所需的申请资料。“但疫情没稳定,回老家后又遭遇了封城,家里人其实也不放心让我离开。”几经考虑,他最终选择放弃当年入学,已经有了一些储蓄的他觉得,“再准备准备,把雅思再考高一点也未尝不可。”

方苑郦也同样选择了不入学。她半开玩笑地说“皇艺的学费是真贵”,虽然学校开设网课,但并不能减免多少。权衡之下,她选择先工作起来,疫情渐渐得到控制之后,她开始跟着三联周刊记者进行一个外拍任务,之后也开始面试摄影师的职位。虽然和最开始的打算有所不同,但方苑郦对这样的改变并没有很失落,“今年我也会尝试申请下马格南社会公正奖学金。”

对于在疫情爆发前就已经到纽约的施悦玮来说,她享受了一系列“云端服务”:“就线上授课而言,其实大部分的课影响不大,基本还是像在学校一样老师讲 Lecture,之后再一对一点评。而线上展览相对于实体展览而言唯一的好处可能就是不用出门,对我这种阿宅很友好吧。”她如此说道。但因为学校完全关闭了,所以有一些需要用到学校设施、模特或者实验室的课程就会比较困难,“我春季学期就有一个 Junior Project 需要用到学校的丝网印刷室,但是因为疫情的原因最后有两幅作品没能来得及印出来。”

本来也要参加两个展出的施悦玮,对线上展览的弊端更有些体会:“从屏幕前看作品和在实地的感受是截然不同的。但都因为疫情变成了线上,还是觉得很遗憾的。首先线上展出所有的作品都变成了屏幕的大小,整体的震撼力,细节,质感都大打折扣。其次参加展览有时候可以遇到一些有趣的人,可以和他们介绍一下你的作品或者交流一下大家的想法,而线上展出就没有这个机会了。”

Handowin 也这样觉得,“线下所有资源和体验都没了”。她往年在纽约读书时, SVA 会拥有很多活动的机会,“同样去年我几乎在纽约周周会去参加活动,能够认识到各界的艺术家。现在这些都没了吧。即使有些变成线上,但是参与感明显下降。”原本应该在纽约参加插画书展等活动的 Handowin 说道,“人与人的沟通最直接有效的仍然是面对面。”

A Time For Reflection

Even though COVID-19 has hampered the plans of students looking to study overseas, there are upsides to be found in the throes of adversity. Those homebound by the pandemic have been afforded the time to reconsider their priorities and goals. A lot of people believe that these reflections have offered them a lot more clarity about their future.

Shi was originally supposed to finish her degree earlier this year, but the delay isn’t a disappointment. She’s most disappointed with how she’s been unable to see her friends and parents this past year, outside of video calls. After graduating, her top priority is to head home. To her, family and friendship are the most important pillars of her life.

Song also believes the past year may have been a blessing in disguise. “Looking back, my decision might have been rushed,” he says. “I think I just didn’t want to be another cog in the nine-to-five machine, so I quit. But when my life trajectory switch and application to schools were a bit too hurried. 2020 gave me time to slow down and rethink things.”

Now, he’s looking further out and has his sights set on schools in England, which he believes will teach curriculums that better serve his academic aspirations. In the meantime though, he’s freelancing on the side for some income and studying by himself. “The pandemic may not have been all bad,” he says. “There will always be opportunities to study abroad, and I don’t mind waiting.”

For He, the pandemic has caused her to doubt her plans of returning to New York for a longer-term stay. “Originally, I wanted to work there after I graduated,” she says. “But now, I’m in an awkward dilemma. It’s not a huge problem though, I’ve always been good at adapting.”

She believes the only way to cope with the volatility of the past year is to just keep moving forward. For the time being, He will stay in Shanghai, and she’s begun working on a children’s book around themes of environmentalism. It’s a fitting time for such a book, she believes, as the pandemic has spotlighted just how much humans are at the whims of nature.

Fang has similarly adjusted her plans and is now interning at a Chinese company during this gap year. She also reveals plans of starting a new photography project that’s based on some of her introspection during this pandemic.

Despite how much the pandemic has upended the plans of many students looking to travel abroad, it’s only a temporary setback. Most still have plans of heading overseas once the virus eases. The opportunity to immerse themselves in another culture, brush up on their language skills, and experience an entirely different educational system is too good to pass up, but at a time when leaving isn’t possible, many have discovered that there are still plenty of ways they can better themselves right at home. Rather than admiring how green the grass may seem on the other side, perhaps tending to our own garden is the best course of action in these strange times.



3/“灾难会促使人去反思”

 

虽然疫情的阻碍使很多学生没有办法去实地参与课程,也错过了一些能够在国外社交和寻找实习的机会,但这让很多准留学生们得以有时间重新考虑他们的目标和追求,也让他们对未来有了更明晰的方向。

2021 年应该是施悦玮的毕业年,她觉得疫情给她带来最大的遗憾就是没办法回国与家人朋友见面。留在美国足足 19 个月,她和家人的见面的机会仅限于视频聊天。在毕业之后,她会考虑先回国和家人认认真真地团聚一次。

宋扬则是很坦然地表示自己没有什么遗憾的。“现在想想我本来的决定作得有些仓促,可能只是不想过一成不变的‘打工人’生活,所以要为了梦想辞职。但其实当时备考雅思、选择学校,都有些匆忙,2020 给了我重新思考的契机。”

宋扬把英国的大学纳入了考量范围,在静下心来了解过一系列留学国家之后,他觉得欧洲国家疫情相对趋缓,教育质量也更高。目前宋扬是自由职业状态,一边赚钱一边学习,目的是为了“想申更好的学校”。“对我来说,疫情真的算很善待我了。毕竟要留学,机会一直都在,我不怕等。”

而对 Handowin 说,过去这一年对她来讲最大改变就是对“是否长留纽约”这个问题有了新的认知。“原本的机会当然是毕业在那里工作,现在感觉有点尴尬,进退两难,但也不会是很大的问题,适应变化对于我来说也不是一次两次。”她说道,在谈到疫情对国外学习的影响时,她表示“这场大疫已经改变了世界改变了我们每一个人,无论是否能够尽快结束,我们都回不到过去了。”Handowin 最近在写关于北极和环保的童书故事,希望人类能一起努力让地球健康一点。这样的环保意识在疫情来临前,未必得以在众人面前曝光,但瘟疫给了人们思考和自省的机会。

同样,方苑郦也在短期内迅速调整了自己的规划,目前已经开始 gap year 并着手实习,并同时进行自己的个人项目。和她之前做过的摄影项目一样,她认为无论瘟疫、地震甚至其他天灾人祸,“灾难会促使人去反思”。

而无论疫情给留学市场带来了怎样的变化,但对于想要和正在留学的学生来说,疫情的爆发或许只是短暂地给留学市场按下了暂停键,海外的多元文化和不同于中国式教育的学习体验,依然是他们最为珍视的目的。但与此同时,大家也都在逐渐释怀,留学并不是唯一的提升自己的道路,只是提供了一个理解世界的角度,而真正重要的是试图打开自己的眼界、提升自己的学术能力、结交不同立场的朋友、放宽心态去接受一切,这才是创作和艺术背后最源头的能量。

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Contributor: Chen Yuan
Illustrator: Xiao Hei


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供稿人: Chen Yuan
插画师: Xiao Hei

Memory Reassembly 我荒唐的童年记忆

April 20, 2021 2021年4月20日
Using vests to skip rope 《Using vests to skip rope》

“Being raised in Hong Kong, I felt a bit detached from my roots to the mainland,” says artist Hung Chingyan. “This grappling with identity is one of the most important elements of my creative process.”

As a second-generation immigrant from Fujian, Hung often felt different from her peers in Hong Kong. Unlike born-and-raised Hong Kongers, her earlier educational background was far more traditional and conservative. Social constructs such as filial piety and gender roles were deeply ingrained into her psyche.  She felt estranged once she arrived in Hong Kong, where the education system was more influenced by the British. “I felt different from others, and it didn’t feel like I belonged in Hong Kong,” she says.

Only years later did she realize that these feelings of otherness were of no fault of her own and how pointless it was to dwell on these memories. Coming to terms with the absurdity of it all proved to be the perfect creative fodder. Her collage series The Song of a Young Nutter takes these realizations and stirs in an extra dollop of quirkiness to bring her childhood experiences into a visual form. This project uses Hung’s original photos, which include shots of keepsakes from her childhood, random objects that have caught her eye, and even herself. Together, this mishmash of disparate images has become her way of revisiting the experiences that have shaped who she is today.


“作为一个土生土长的香港人,我好像已经忘掉自己的根在中国,这一切有关探讨身份的寻索也是我创作中重要的故事元素。”洪澄欣说道。她是在香港长大的福建第二代移民,和当地多元开放文化下生长起来的孩子不同,她坦言自己所受到的教育是相对传统而保守的,比如小辈要遵从“孝悌忠信”,比如女子要“秀外慧中”,也有些习俗和礼仪和香港等本土文化有着很大差异。“所以从小我就有一种与别人不同的感觉,亦觉得自己对香港这地没很大的归属感。”直到多年后,她才发现那种不同是基于“根”的不同。洪澄欣把儿时的有关经历称为“荒唐的记忆”。

于是,她决定用艺术创作的方式来表达自我感受,“用幽默的方式来表达我过去大人眼中的怪异”——The Song of a Young Nutter》就得以诞生。这是一系列摄影拼贴作品,自画像、童年记忆中的物件和与过往的荒谬经历交互组合,以挖掘更深层的文化意义。

A child under care 《A child under care》
Chicken will appear when the egg paste flows down 《Chicken will appear when the egg paste flows down》
A Barefoot Girl in a Stone Sitting Position 《A Barefoot Girl in a Stone Sitting Position》
The neighbor downstairs is cleaning in every second 《The neighbor downstairs is cleaning in every second》

Piecing together different images to speak on specific topics in a cohesive way is always a challenge for Hung. “When I take photos, I like looking inwards,” she says. “I like to find inspiration at home, taking photos of objects I find laying around. It’s interesting to observe their little manmade scratches and examine the condition of the item. During the worst days of the pandemic, I was forced to look even closer within my limited surrounding for inspiration. This taught me that inspiration could be found anywhere.”

She eventually had the idea to include herself within her collages. This was a new creative stepping one, one that allowed for a deeper connection between her and the memory or subject she sought to explore.


最开始试图拼贴的时候总是最麻烦的,不同内容不同主题的物件,很难被同时放在一个空间里去讲述。“在找摄影题材的时候很喜欢往内看,我会喜欢在家中找物件作为我的摄影对象,并观察他们的状态和痕迹。我记得一开始创作时遇上新冠肺炎爆发的高峰期,所有人都需要留在家里,我也不例外,所以更加多了空间去构思如何好好利用家中的物品配合我的创作。”洪澄欣试过几次合并素材之后,她开始拍摄自己的身体,并将“自己”放到拼贴里去与其他物件互动,以此产生一种有趣且怪诞的效果。

Dad Loves Eating Sticky Rice Dumplings Wrapped With Rocks 《Dad Loves Eating Sticky Rice Dumplings Wrapped With Rocks》

In the collage, Dad Loves Eating Sticky Rice Dumplings Wrapped With Rocks, she looks back on a Dragon Boat Festival that she spent with her grandma. The night before the holiday, Hung was helping her grandma wrap zongzi when a mischievous idea struck—she thought it’d be a funny prank to stuff one with rocks and trick her dad into eating it. Grabbing pebbles from a potted plant, she plucked two into the zongzi she was wrapping. In this artwork, the zongzi floating downriver have all been split open, revealing Hung’s face within, grinning impishly. The flowing river represents the holiday season, a not-so-subtle nod to the dragon boat races held during the celebrations.

This blending of unlikely elements is one of the most prominent themes in her work—even the loosest of threads can be woven into something new. Hung isn’t interested in quieting her ideas, no matter how strange or nonsensical it may seem. She’s simply interested in bringing her imagination into the real world.


比如在《Dad Loves Eating Sticky Rice Dumplings Wrapped With Rocks》这张作品里,她是回忆起有一年的端午节前夕,在家里帮阿嬷一起包粽子,突然之间灵机一动,把两颗放在花盘里的石头包在其中两只体形较小的粽子内,想来捉弄下晚归的爸爸。于是在作品里,粽子对半切开展示的是她自己坏笑的表情,而粽子顺流而下的石绿色背景则隐喻着古老的端午节必备传统:河道划龙舟。

这种天马行空的想象力串联,在洪澄欣的作品中并不少见,她没毫不掩饰自己的想法,并刻意把一些“无厘头”的意见放到拼贴当中,“希望呈现一种自我感觉最原始、自然的创作风格”。

Fish is a terrible creature 《Fish is a terrible creature》
I use fries to eat tomato sauce 《I use fries to eat tomato sauce》

Color and shape are the most deliberated aspects of Hung’s art, and like the memories they’re based on, they’re often scaled to exaggerated proportions. “My parents wanted me to eat some fish, so they mixed it into my congee and I got a fishbone stuck in my throat,” she recalls. “They were terrified, and they took me to the clinic downstairs to get the bone out. From there onwards, I’ve been terrified of eating fish. It feels dangerous.”

This childhood fear is the basis of Fish is a Terrible Creature, a collage featuring fish popping out from a black-and-white sea surface, as if ready to ambush.


在洪澄欣的创作里,颜色和物件的形态是画面最重要的元素,在这个系列中,她刻意把这两个元素放大,尝试玩弄一些花样,以致画面的完整度可以提高。“我还记得小时候有一次我的家人把鱼肉拆在我晚饭的白粥里,混在一起喂我吃,我却不小心把一条很粗的鱼骨吃进口里并卡在喉咙中。家人当时很害怕,马上把我送到楼下的诊所请医生帮我把鱼骨拔出来,那次以后,我便对吃鱼产生一种恐惧感,觉得吃鱼是一种很危险的行为。”洪澄欣说道,这就是《Fish is a terrible creature》的来源,她配以阴沉沉的背景色,象征着陷阱的“鱼洞”,来传递自己自小对吃鱼的恐惧感。

Removing the pins and putting them in my mouth 《Removing the pins and putting them in my mouth》
Long hair is rolled into a machine 《Long hair is rolled into a machine》
I ate seaweed secretly by the bed 《I ate seaweed secretly by the bed》

Other sights and sounds that only exist in her memory also make appearances throughout the series. “Like the slide at my playground, which I played on every day after school,” she says. “Or the woods that I hung out in, where I could hear my neighbor sweeping the leaves.”

This visual reassembly of her childhood may seem nonsensical to the average viewer, but to Hong, they hold plenty of meaning. When revisiting the old diary entries she uses for inspiration, she often finds herself teary-eyed or roaring with laughter. Reconstructing these childhood memories has helped her reflect on her place in the world, whether it be within her family or within society at large. “I think families are an interesting topic, and it’s one near and dear to my heart,” she says. “My family are the people I’m closest to, yet it feels like there’s a lot I don’t know about them sometimes. My art is pretty self-deprecating in that way. I’m poking fun at how I just can’t quite fit in anywhere.”


在这个系列的拼贴工具,就是洪澄欣不断翻找记忆中曾经看过、用过或玩过的物件。“就像游乐场里的滑梯,它是我以前每天放学后回家前必玩的游乐设施;树林背景的一幕,就是我小时候在家中听到楼下邻居打扫声音的时候,对身处环境的联想……”虽然说有些物件可能早已散失,但是洪澄欣也不断从那些回忆里再次联想,使之关联成为最后的成品。

她笑说,有时候看到某些有特别意义的物件时,偶然会留下一两滴眼泪,看到一些以前自己写的日记也会大笑一番,好似有种心灵互动。可以说整个创作的过程,是洪澄欣在不断通过拼贴重构自己的童年回忆,也在不断反思自己对于家庭和社会的意义。“我认为家庭是一个很有趣的探讨议题,因为它是离我最近、最亲切却最陌生的一个群体。”洪澄欣说道。

Buying a new school uniform by tying my wrists with elastic bands 《Buying a new school uniform by tying my wrists with elastic bands》
You're like a cloud 《You're like a cloud》
Miss Hong Kong is me 《Miss Hong Kong is me》

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网站
: www.hungchingyan.com
Instagram: @fotolotof


Contributor: Chen Yuan


喜欢我们的故事?欢迎关注我们 Neocha 的微博微信
网站: www.hungchingyan.com
Instagram: @fotolotof

 

供稿人: Chen Yuan

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Wooden Wonders 123,木头人

March 22, 2021 2021年3月22日

The woodcraft of Wei Hua (a.k.a Moil W.) excites the imagination. With his hand-carved sculptures, he’s given life to a diverse cast of lovable characters that range from dachshunds and insects to mushrooms and fruits. Some are more introverted, while others enjoy congregating and socializing with one another. Despite their different personalities, they all seem to inhabit the same fairytale forest. Looking at these adorable figurines, all too easy to start daydreaming about their backstories. Who are they? Where do they come from? What are they up to?


Moil_W (魏华)的木作系列会激发每个看客的想象力。

水果、蘑菇、腊肠狗被制成可可爱爱的模样,仿佛被赋予了崭新的生命,它们既是独立的个体,也热爱群居。这些小木头人被放置在蓊郁森林盆景上的时候,宛如置身在童话故事中的卡通人物,各自都拥有自己的未来要去闯荡,使人不得不去联想它们是谁、有着怎样的性格、未来会演发出怎样的故事。

Wei established Diga, a woodcraft brand focused on handmade toy figurines, in 2019. Though he never studied woodworking, a degree in video-game character design from the Hubei Academy of Arts set him off on the creative path and feeds into his current works. In fact, to him, woodcraft isn’t that unlike illustration—with its inherent earthy tones and varied textures, wood can be assembled into unique designs. He loves the material so much that he often doesn’t even paint over it, preferring to retain its original colors.

This means that selecting the right type of wood is perhaps one of the most important part of his production process. In the early stages of a sculpture design, she looks at different wood samples, searching for the perfect texture and color to work with. “As I understood the material more and more, I got better at choosing the right wood for my designs,” she says. “To depict whites, I’ll use maple wood or ash wood. For grays, I’ll use cherry wood, African coralwood, or something similar. To depict blacks, ebony, black walnut, or jichimu are some of my go-to’s.”


2019 年,Moil_W 创立了 diga:一个纯手工制作的木制玩偶工坊。并非木工专业出身的他毕业于湖北美院,原本从事的是游戏动画设计,但一直以来,他始终希望能有朝一日把自己的插画实体化做出来,几经探索后,木头就成为了他创作的载体。对他来说,木料就像是绘画中颜料一样,不同的纹理和色彩基调,可以组合形成不同层次的物件。和其他大多数木工作品不同,Moil 的作品不上油、不涂漆,尽力去呈现和葆有木头的原色。

在一开始做最初步的设计的时候,他会去搜集很多不同种类的木料小样,在心里去模拟他们拼合搭配的效果,“在上手熟悉了之后,我确定了一个比较好的一种搭配方式,也是就设计的黑白灰关系,白会用到枫木,或白蜡木,灰会用到樱桃木、红花梨等一些颜色适中的木料,黑会用到黑胡桃、鸡翅木和黑檀之类。”

Heavier subject matters aren’t off limits to Wei neither, despite the lighthearted art style. In After I’m Gone, he touches on death and our eventual return to nature. An adorable skeletal figure with a crown of flowers represents the loss of our physical bodies, while an earthworm with a Rudolf-like nose hides out within a block of wood, symbolizing the earth. Above, vibrant sunflowers and patches of mushrooms have grown. “After I die, my body will slowly rot into the soil. The soil will grow flowers and plants, the flowers and plants will be eaten by insects, giving way to new life in an endless cycle,” Wei says. “Today’s people close themselves off in coffins and jars after they pass. They can’t return to nature. For these people, they’re not able to reincarnate. It’s sad.”


比如在《我死之后》,他正是将人类肉身源于自然、最终归于自然的故事具象化了出来,不过是以可爱木作的方式——头戴鲜花的 Q 版骷髅置于底层,预示着肉体的逝去;中间有红鼻头的蚯蚓有半截匿于浅棕色=象征土壤的木块之下;在土壤上方,又长出了鲜艳招摇的向日葵与蘑菇,也有其他动物来打洞做窝……“我死之后身体会慢慢腐败变成土壤,土壤会长出花草,花草又会被昆虫啃食,自己身体仿佛又转化为了新的生命,这是物质的轮回。” Moil 说道,“可如今的人们死后被封闭在一个无法与自然接触的密闭环境里,我反而觉得变成了永不超生转世的状态,想想还挺可怜的。”

Despite the occasional foray into these heavier subject matters, it’s hard to not crack a smile when looking at Wei’s figurines. With their round, curvy silhouettes, they’re not only adorable in appearence—they often come with endearing backstories as well.  “People love Honey and Sparkle,” he says. “Even though they’re cute, what these two characters represent are equally important. Honey the bee represents hard work, and Sparkle the moth—with its affinity for finding light—represents the pursuit of justice.”

Every character that Wei has created is envisioned as part of the same universe, and with even more new figurines coming up, he plans on exhibiting the full collection together. “The work may have different meaning based on how a person views themselves, the world around them, and what they hope for the world to be.”


单看一枚枚小木头人,都有着柔和的线条、圆鼓鼓的身形。Moil 也为每个木头人都准备了介绍,为它们铺设了丰富的故事背景。“就好像很多人都喜欢作品中的‘蜜儿’和‘闪亮’一样,虽然他们都很可爱,但作品背后的含义同样很重要,小蜜蜂代表着勤劳,飞蛾代表的追逐光明与正义。”Moil 说。

Moil 解释道,这些小木头人其实都是他构建的童话世界设定中的一份子,随着 diga 产出的木作缓慢壮大,他会将最终所有的作品摆在一起,去拼凑出那个他想展现给大家看的内心世界。Moil 说,“这关系到你如何看待自己和这个世界,这个世界需要什么样的人和品质。”

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Website: www.diga.design
Weibo: ~/Moil_W
Zcool: ~/Moil_W

 

Contributor: Chen Yuan


喜欢我们的故事?欢迎关注我们 Neocha 的微博微信

 

网站: www.diga.design
微博: ~/Moil_W
站酷: ~/Moil_W

 

供稿人: Chen Yuan

 

 

 

 

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