Tag Archives: beijing

Color and Verse

Traditional Chinese images of love—wind, flowers, snow and the moon, or oaths sworn to the mountains and seas—come largely from the world created by Tang and Song dynasty poetry. And in Zhang Mengke‘s works, poetry is a source and drawing is the medium. Her pink, mist-shrouded illustrations convey a poetic simplicity.

Inspired by music, fragrance, and dreams, along with the verse, dialogue, and palace settings of historical dramas on television, Zhang “makes verse visible” with an understated, suggestive style.


风花雪月,海誓山盟,这样的景象,大抵多出现在唐诗宋词营造的世界里。而在张梦珂的笔下,诗词是源泉,笔触是媒介,粉色氤氲的画幅里,透着古朴的诗意。

从音乐、气味、梦境,古代清宫剧中的诗句、对白和建筑场景产生的灵感,融合了淡雅的色彩和意蕴,张梦珂的笔下,“把诗句可视化” 了。

For Zhang, “poetry is profound and demands careful thought and patient appreciation. But because it often uses a particular meter or diction, it relies on reason and insinuation. Drawing, on the other hand, is the most intuitively visual medium—as soon as you look at a picture, you immediately feel something. That’s what I’m able to achieve in my art.”

You can see more of Zhang Mengke’s works below.


对她来说,“诗词,需要将它拼凑起来思考,慢慢品味,非常博大精深。但因为它可能会有固定韵律和字词,在我认为它是相对理性的、隐忍的。但画,则是人最直观的视觉感受,你在看到它的第一眼就会有一定的感受,也是我更擅长可以尽情发挥的。”

更多张梦珂的作品,欢迎继续浏览。

Behance: ~/kk_Meng

 

Contributor: Chen Yuan


Behance: ~/kk_Meng

 

供稿人: Chen Yuan

The East Was Red

“The east is red, the sun is rising. From China comes Mao Zedong.” So goes China’s most famous propaganda song, “The East is Red.”

China in the 1960s and 1970s was indeed red. From the propaganda posters covering the streets and alleyways, to the copies of the little red book in everyone’s hands, to the Mao badges on their chests, red—symbolizing leftism, communism, socialism, and revolution—filled every aspect of people’s lives and thoughts.

In a new project entitled The East Was Red, artist Sheila Zhao finds old photographs from that time and retouches them, highlighting the political atmosphere of the time.


就像歌里唱的那样:“东方红,太阳升,中国出了个毛泽东。”

六七十年代的中国,确实是红色的。从大街小巷遍布的宣传画,到人手一份的 “毛主席语录” 或毛主席勋章——象征着左派、革命、社会主义和共产主义的政治红色,充斥着人们生活和思想的方方面面。

而这个系列名取自红歌《东方红》(The East Was Red),Sheila Zhao 找到当时的老照片,并进行了再度创作以突出那个时期的政治气氛。

Born in Beijing in the 1980s, at age seven Zhao moved to the US, where she grew up and studied. Of course, without the benefit of personal experience, Zhao is a stranger to those times, so hard for outsiders to grasp or comprehend.

But Zhao’s love of documentary photography, especially historical images, transports her back in time. “I’m not a historian or an expert in the Cultural Revolution, by any means,” she says. “I look at that time in history from the point of view of someone interested in the images it created, and in what that says about the country’s collective identity at the time.”


Sheila Zhao 其实是 80 后,在北京出生,七岁时搬到美国,并在那里完成了学业。照理说,Sheila 对那个时代是陌生的,没有亲身经历的加持,也很难理解和感受。

但对纪实摄影尤其是老照片的热忱,把 Sheila 带到了这段历史面前。“我不是一个历史学家,也不是一个研究当时运动的专家。我从一个对所创造的形象感兴趣的人的角度来看待历史上的那段时期,以及这个国家当时普遍存在的集体认同感。”

All of the images in The East Was Red, and all her other archival images, were acquired from second-hand antique markets near Beijing and Shanghai. As the majority of the photos were taken in the 1960s and 1970s, a common theme stood out:  “I noticed the photographer and those being photographed from this period, whether consciously or not, brought politics into the shot,” she says. Clearly, people in that time lived entirely under its shroud.

Fascinated by this, Zhao began retouching select photos from her collection, coloring over the posters, images, Mao badges, and books of quotations with a cherry red, using the color to stand in for these thoroughly political objects. On the one hand, this alludes to the color’s political significance, and on the other, it lets the viewer, who can see how prominent the red is, understand just how widespread Communist ideology and the cult of personality had become throughout China. 


《东方红》系列的所有照片,Sheila 档案中的其他照片一样,都是在北京和上海附近的古董二手市场淘到的。这个系列则大多选取于上世纪六七十年代间所拍摄的照片,几相比较,有个异常明显的特征浮现出来:“有趣的是,我注意到在这个时期,摄影者和被拍摄者都有意无意地把代表政治的东西包括进来。” 可见,那时期的人们完全生活在其笼罩之下。

于是,Sheila 在再度创作的过程中涂红了标语、照片、勋章和 “红宝书”。鲜艳的大红色被用以代替这些照片中这些充满政治意味的 “物件”,一来对应 “红” 的隐喻,二来,观者只消参见照片里红色有多么壮观,就能发现当时的共产主义思想和个人崇拜情结,在全中国是有多普及。

“China underwent a very unique socioeconomic movement at the time, which coincided with the rise of photography. It happened to be when cameras became more accessible, leading to more people using them as a means of self-expression,” Zhao says. “In the early 20th century, photography was still something that was reserved for the privileged. By the mid-20th century, cameras became even more common. Although they were still considered a luxury, there wasn’t that sense of exoticism of being imported anymore. Looking at photos from that era, it’s quite interesting to see how political doctrines influenced people’s lives.”


“中国当时所经历的是一场非常独特的社会经济运动,也恰巧发生在摄影史上,当时越来越多的人开始有机会通过摄影媒介表达自己的观点。” Sheila 说,“在 20 世纪初期,摄影仍然是特权阶层的活动。但到了中期,相机的使用开始变得越来越平民化,尽管还稍显奢侈,但它已不再那么具有‘舶来品’的异国气质。所以在照片中,我发现当时的政治辞令是如何影响人们描述和记录自己生活的方式,这是非常有趣的。”

Websitesheila-zhao.com

 

Contributor: Chen Yuan


网站sheila-zhao.com

 

供稿人: Chen Yuan

Da Tou Ma’s “How to Write a Worstseller” (excerpt)

Text no. 1: How to Write a Worstseller

 

One summer day five years ago, I got a phone call from a city on the coast. The voice on the other end of the line, deep and measured and deliberate, congratulated me on being chosen to take part in a writers’ workshop, and instructed me to leave the very next day for the place it would be held, a small island not far from that coastal city. Room and board would be provided for the entire two weeks, but I’d have to cover my own travel expenses. The voice hung up before I could reply.

At the time I was at home with my girlfriend in the middle of a fight, desperate to come up with a reply to the last thing she’d said. My first thought was that this was a scam. My second thought was a sudden jolt of inspiration: I found the perfect comeback for the fight. I set down the phone and was about to go on arguing, but my girlfriend turned and asked who’d called. I stopped short, put my comeback on hold, and repeated what I’d just heard. “You’re such an idiot, it’s obviously a scam,” she said.


作品1号: 不畅销小说写作指南

 

五年前夏天,我接到一通电话。电话是从一个沿海城市打来的,语音不疾不徐,富有磁性,恭喜我被选入了大师班,隔日就请奔赴指定上课地点,地点在该沿海城市不远的岛屿上,为期半个月,食宿全包,来回路费自理。对方没等我反应过来就挂了电话,当时我正在家里和女朋友吵架,苦苦陷于如何反唇相讥的困局里,第一反应是这是这个诈骗电话,第二反应是忽然一个晴天霹雳,我获得如何回击女友的灵感了!我搁下电话,想再找她理论,她却转而问我电话的事。我一愣,心里把那道灵感暂存在一边,如实回答了她电话的情况。“你傻啊,肯定是诈骗电话。”她和我想得一模一样。


She had exactly the same thought I did. But now that she’d said it, I couldn’t just agree. I could only counter with: “Not necessarily.”

“What do you mean, not necessarily?”

“Maybe it really is some kind of writing seminar.”

“Then why did they choose you?”

She had a point. Aside from a literary club at university that I briefly got talked into joining, I’d never had a thing to do with literature. Once, carried away by the passion of the club’s president, I drunkenly proclaimed that I too would “one day become a writer.” But I’d never written a single line, and after I got together with my girlfriend, who at the time was the club’s vice-president, I didn’t attend any more of their events. My girlfriend, too, soon quit, and went from aspiring writer to ordinary young bank employee, scrolling through online romance novels on her phone. She’s always been a bit ahead of me in terms of income, though thankfully only a bit. I suppose I did have one writing-related job: after graduation I worked for a text-message marketing company, mostly composing spam texts. In reality, I’d just cut and paste from the ad copy manual. Now I work at a real estate research firm, where my main responsibility is to draft proposals for clients, essentially putting garbage into PowerPoint form.


结果她这么一说,我倒无法附和她的意见,只好反击道,“那也不一定。”

“怎么不一定了?”

“没准儿就是真的什么培训班呢。”

“那他们为什么选中了你?”

是啊。这辈子除了在大学时招新被忽悠进了一段时间的文学社,我和“文学”二字从未发生过任何关系。除了配合社长的热情,喝醉后附议过“以后要成为一名作家”的理想外,没干过任何一件写作有关的事。当我和当时还是文学社副社长的女朋友好上之后,就再也没参加过社团的活动。女朋友也很快卸任副社长,从有志于成为一名女作家,变成了如今捧着手机读网络言情小说在银行上班的普通女青年。收入永远走在我前面一点点,还好只是一点点。非要说和“写”这个动作有关的事的话,大学毕业后我在一家短信公司工作,主要内容是撰写垃圾营销短信,实际就是抱着文案书拼贴。如今我在一家房地产研究院上班,主要内容是给各位甲方写方案,本质上是把废话以PPT的形式组织起来。


No, I couldn’t think of a reason I’d be chosen for a writing workshop. Unless it was a scam.

Or maybe—

“Or maybe I really do have some literary talent, it just hasn’t been discovered yet,” I ventured.

“You?” My girlfriend looked at me. “Ha!”

Often our fights would grind to a halt with that laugh of hers, not because I wanted them to grind to a halt, but because I just couldn’t muster a response. I’d sit there like a dud bomb, and she’d act as though nothing had happened. Through a sort of unspoken agreement, we’d both pretend the whole thing had blown over.

There’s nothing enviable about this. Anyone who’s been in a relationship for more than three years has these kinds of unspoken agreements, and my girlfriend and I had been together for six. I can’t say I hadn’t thought about marriage, of course, nor that she hadn’t thought about finding a new boyfriend. During our first three years we must have broken up 800 times, but in the last three years, we both concluded that breaking up wasn’t so different from getting married, and not mentioning the word “breakup” had become one of our unspoken rules. The other unspoken rules included not exposing each other’s lies, not warning each other we were about to make a mistake, not putting our lives on hold for each other, even for a second. Really, aside from a minor fight each week and a major fight each month, we weren’t doing so bad. And the prospect of staying together had its appeal: as time went by, our fights would gradually become less frequent, so that by the day we died, we’d have returned to the honeymoon phase when we could communicate without words. We’d have grown old together.

But this time, I had that comeback to use! Had it not been for that phone call interrupting us, I bet we’d still be hashing out that fight. Who was right and who was wrong had yet to be determined.


是的。我想不出有什么理由会被一个写作培训班选中。除了这是一场骗局。

也有可能是——

“也有可能是我真的有什么文学天赋,只是还没被发现。”我说。

“你?”女朋友看了我一眼,笑了。

有很多次我们的争吵都是在她这副笑容之后就戛然而止了,不是我想戛然而止,而是我实在想不出用什么来回击她这副笑容。我一哑炮,她也会进入那种一切都没发生过的状态,我们就配合默契地假装一切真的已经烟消云散了。

这没什么可羡慕的,只要你谈恋爱超过三年,都会和伴侣形成这份默契,而我和女朋友,已经在一起六年了。我当然不是没想过结婚,她也不是没想过换个男友,前三年我们分了八百遍手,后三年我们都觉得分手和结婚其实没什么区别,不提分手二字成了我们的默契之一。其余默契还包括不会戳穿对方撒的谎,不会提醒对方即将犯的错,不会为对方暂停一秒自己的生活。除了每周一小吵每月一大吵,我们的日子过得还不赖。这事儿还有奔头可想:随着时间流逝,我们将继续逐年降低吵架的频率,到死的那天,我们将回到恋爱的最开始阶段,无需言语便可沟通。到此,我们也就完成了白头偕老。

但是这一次,我明明已经获得了那道神赐予我的灵感啊!如果不是这个中途插入的电话,我相信这一架我们还有的可吵。真理站在谁的那边还输赢未定呢。


That’s why this time I ignored her laugh. “Yes, me. What’s so funny?”

She didn’t expect me to keep going. She gave me a look, then suddenly opened her mouth and reeled off: “The wind is heedless of the slender branch, no dew ignites the cinnamon leaf’s fragrance.”

I didn’t turn around. What did that mean?

Slowly, she asked, “What comes next?”

All at once I understood. That was something I wrote for her in college. After she read it she asked, much to my surprise, what the next two lines were. How should I know what the next two lines were? Those were the only ones I copied out of that volume of Li Shangyin’s selected verse! At the time we were head over heels in love, and naturally this awkward little episode had been quickly swept under the rug. I couldn’t believe she still remembered.

She saw I didn’t respond, and laughed again. “Ha!”

It was that second laugh that made me make up my mind.

The next morning, when I’d packed my bags and was getting ready to leave, my girlfriend, who had just gotten up, groggily asked where I was off to. “The workshop,” I coolly replied. Then I walked out the door and didn’t look back.


于是我没有像以往那样理会她的笑容,“我怎么了?”

女朋友没想到我会继续,她看了我一眼,突然张口道,“风波不信菱枝弱,月露谁教桂叶香。”

我没转过弯来。这是什么意思?

她缓缓道,“之后呢?”

我立刻明白了。这是当年上学时我写给她的,没想到她看了之后问我下两句是什么,我哪儿知道下两句是什么啊?我从李商隐诗选里就抄了这两句啊!当时我们正在热恋中,这个小小的尴尬自然被草草忽略过去了。没想到她一直记到现在。

她见我没反应,又是一笑。

就是她这第二次的笑容促使我下了决定。

第二天一早,我收拾好了行李,准备出门时女朋友刚起床,她迷迷糊糊地问我是要去哪儿。我甩下一句,“去上大师班。”然后头也不回地走出了大门。


How to Write a Worstseller
by Da Tou Ma
Hunan Literature and Art Publishing House, 2017

Click here to go back to the original article.

 

English Translator: Allen Young


《不畅销小说写作指南》
大头马 著
长沙: 湖南文艺出版社,2017

点击此处返回原文

 

英语翻译: Allen Young


Dualities

Room 2 (2016) 66 x 110 cm

When your eyes have come to expect dazzlingly bright works of art, it’s a surprise when you find yourself staring so long at the color black.

These layers of black are not silent, but neither are they deafening.

Rather, it’s like a dialogue without words.


在看过无数眩目的艺术作品之后,你毫无防备,竟对着一页的黑色看了这么久。

这样层叠的黑,并非静默,也绝无喧嚣。

那更像是一种无声的对话。

Wood Block 10.1 (2017) 90 x 120 cm
Wood Block 10.3 (2017) 90 x 120 cm

Born in Russia, raised in Ukraine, and currently based in Beijing, Alëna Olasyuk is the artist behind these achromatic works, all of which were created using traditional Chinese ink.

Using carved wood in lieu of standard canvases, Olasyuk’s Wood Blocks series is a work of patience and diligence. Anyone can touch the works, anyone can feel their imprint on their own body. Bodily impressions and visual perception overlap: the painting is no longer a painting, the wood is no longer wood. They encourage the viewer to interact with the work. It’s a dialogue between humans and art.


Alëna Olasyuk 在俄罗斯出生,在乌克兰长大,如今长居北京。我们所看到的黑,正是她用所钟情的中国墨水一笔笔画的。

这个系列叫做《Wood Blocks》(《木格》),Alëna 在已镂刻的木雕上耐心地描绘和涂色,最终形成了我们现在所见到的作品。每个人都可以触摸它,每个人也都能在自己身体上留下作品的印记。身体的感知和视觉的观感交叠,画不再是画,木也不再是木。它鼓励着观者与作品进行交互,这是人与作品的对话。

Wood Block 10.2 (2017) 90 x 120 cm

In traditional Chinese art, black and white symbolize the relationship between all things. They’re two extremes that achieve harmony in contrast and movement.

A closer look shows that Olasyuk’s works are more than simply blanketed in pure black ink. Viewed from the front, the entire frame appears to be engulfed in a murky obsidian, with only faint lines visible, but when the same work is observed from a different angle, threads of silver, glimmering colors, and a new world of texture emerge. Darkness reveals itself as light. These perspectives open up an entirely new reality, and as viewers contemplate them, the meaning of dualism becomes clear.

It’s a dialogue between the self and its inner essence. 


在中国艺术中,黑白两色反映的是事物之间的关系,它们是两个极端,在对比和运动中两相制约,以达到和谐。

但其实细看,Alëna 作品中的黑也并不是全黑。直面画布的时候,你会看到条条延展开去的黑色细线;然而,换个角度,你会将看到一个充满着银丝、明亮的颜色和纹理的新世界。玄黑,转而显现为光明。这样的视角开启了全新的现实,使人们在理解这些作品的同时,体悟到了“二元论”。

这是自身与内在的对话。

Duality 1 (2016) 56 x 76 cm
Duality 2 (2016) 56 x 76 cm

But how to achieve balance in this dualistic world?

Olasyuk’s series Duality presents the idea of a natural balance. In fact, duality itself is part of balance. It’s part of the purpose and very notion of life. But if one doesn’t accept this dual nature, the natural balance can’t exist. Complexity and concision, chaos and balance, movement and stasis, transience and infinity – these are the subjects Olasyuk is eternally exploring in her works.

It’s the perpetual dialogue between humanity and the universe.


那么,如何在这个世界的二元性下保持平衡呢?

Alëna Olasyuk 的作品系列二元性代表了自然平衡的思想。其实,二元性本身就是平衡的一部分,是生活的目标和理念的一部分。但是如果不接受事物的两重性,这种平衡就不可能存在。复杂与简约、混沌与平衡、运动与静止、短暂与无限——这些是 Alëna 在她的作品中永恒探索的主题。

这也是人与天地世界的亘古对话。

Duality 4 (2017) 75 x 105 cm
A painting from the Fear series (2016) 56 x 76 cm
A painting from the Fear series (2016) 56 x 76 cm
A painting from the Fear series (2016) 56 x 76 cm
A painting from the Fear series (2016) 56 x 76 cm
A painting from the Fear series (2016) 56 x 76 cm
A painting from the Fear series (2016) 56 x 76 cm
A painting from the Fear series (2016) 56 x 76 cm
A painting from the Fear series (2016) 56 x 76 cm

Websiteolasyuk.com
Instagram: @olasyuk_a

 

Contributor: Chen Yuan


网址olasyuk.com
Instagram: @olasyuk_a

 

供稿人: Chen Yuan

Fear & Loathing in Beijing

 

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ROBBBB is a Chinese street artist who’s risen to acclaim in the world of contemporary art over recent years. Based in Beijing, the young artist is best known for the life-sized characters he wheat pastes on abandoned buildings and in half-demolished neighborhoods. His work satirizes the contradictions of our modern lives and the darker aspects of human nature. Anxiety, hostility, distress, and fear – topics that many people would rather turn a blind eye to – are common throughout his work.


来自中国的街头艺术家 ROBBBB ,近年来在当代艺术界享有盛誉。这位年轻的艺术家长居北京,他最出名的是在废弃的建筑和半拆除的小区里,画上和真人等大的人物形象。他作品中那种尖刻的幽默感讽刺了现代社会存在的矛盾,以及我们通常更愿意视而不见的人性黑暗面——焦虑、痛苦、敌意、软弱和恐惧。

Born in 1990, the young artist believes much of his art stems from his misunderstandings of society, or to be more precise, his subjective misinterpretations of an objective reality. But this a point of pride for ROBBBB – he sees misinterpretations as being channels through which art and creativity can manifest and thrive.

“As an example, everyone will interpret the messages and ideas conveyed by a good film differently depending on their own individual experiences,” ROBBBB says. “I feel like this is how the world is created, from endless misinterpretations and perspectives. The important thing is to express it.”


生于 1990 年的他,认为自己的大部分艺术源于对社会的误解,或者更确切地说,是对客观现实的主观误解。但这也是 ROBBBB 引以为傲的一点,他认为误解是艺术和创造力得以表现和发展的途径。

很多人对一部好电影都会有强烈的反应。但最终,电影传达的信息和想法将被他们根据自己的个人经验而被不同地解读。他说,我觉得这就像世界一样,这正是世界创造的方式,来自于无尽的误解和各种观点。重要的是要将它表达出来。

From a pot-bellied spiderman eating skewered spiders to clowns fighting over Chinese porcelain, the farfetched imagery ROBBBB incorporates into his work is ultimately a way for him to force viewers to contemplate on the absurdities of our everyday reality.


从那个大腹便便、吃着蜘蛛的蜘蛛侠,到为了青花瓷花瓶打斗的小丑们,ROBBBB 的作品将这些毫无瓜葛的形象融入其中,其实最终是为了迫使观众去思考日常现实的荒谬之处。

Websitewww.robbbb.com

 

Contributor & Videographer: George Zhi Zhao


网站www.robbbb.com

 

供稿人与视频摄影师: George Zhi Zhao

A Day in the Studio with Yan Wei

 

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Yan Wei is a contemporary artist and painter from Beijing, China. After graduating from Tsinghua University’s Academy of Art and Design, she started her career as an illustrator working in the advertising industry. However, during her stint in advertising, she began to question her own goals and motivations. “I had to face the fact that advertising was not the reason I got into art,” she says. “I realized that advertising would only take me further away from my goals as an artist.”


闫威是来自北京的一名当代艺术家和画家。从清华大学美术学院毕业后,她为广告公司做插画设计。但这个行业让她开始怀疑自己的选择,质疑起自己学美术的目标和初衷。“我意识到,广告不是我当初从事艺术创作的原因,并且会让我离自己成为艺术家的目标越来越远。”

Moonlight
Internal

Soon after this revelation, Yan quit her cushy advertising job and set up a painting studio in her parent’s home. She intended to dedicate all of her energy to making a reputation for herself in the art world. Over the next decade, Yan continuously progressed as an artist – her work would evolve from small ink-on-paper pieces to large-scale acrylic works on canvas.

Yan’s hard work would pay off. As of now, her work has been displayed in numerous exhibitions, received massive amounts of praise and attention online, and has been purchased by the Shanghai Art Museum for its public collection.


想清楚之后,闫威辞掉了原来收入颇丰的工作,在父母家中成立了一个画室。她打算把所有的精力投入到艺术创作中,争取在艺术界中立足。在接下来的十年里,闫威的艺术创作不断精进,作品也渐渐从一方方小画纸进军到偌大的丙烯画布上去。

功夫不负有心人。从毅然离职到重归艺术创作,再到十年如一日的创作,到目前为止,闫威的作品已经在许多展览上展出,在网络媒体上也获得了大量的点赞和关注,且不少作品已被上海美术馆收录。

Yan Wei’s creative process is centered around routine and discipline. She shares, “A lot of people might think, artists or those who work creatively might live more spontaneously and stay up late, but it’s not like that. I’ll wake up in the morning, eat breakfast, clean the house, and start to paint. Then I’ll have lunch and continue to paint, all the way until the sun goes down and it gets dark, and I can’t paint anymore.”


闫威创作流程的核心是规律和纪律。她分享道:“很多人会以为艺术家或在创意领域中工作的人,总是生活得很随性或经常熬夜,但事实不是这样。”她继续向我们描述她例行的生活:“我会起得很早,吃早餐,打扫家里,开始画画。接着我会吃午餐然后继续画画,一直到傍晚天色暗下来,我没办法再画了为止。”

Guardian

Youth, beauty, and femininity are recurring themes throughout Yan Wei’s body of work. Her art is a way for her to explore the changing roles of women within the context of modern culture and society. “I think of femininity as a whole,” she explains. “Each of my paintings, the subjects are different, but they all have something in common.”


在闫威的作品中,青春、美丽、女性气质是经常出现的主题。通过自己的作品,她在探索着现代文化和社会背景下女性角色的变化。她解释道:“我是将女性气质当作一个整体来思考的。我的每幅作品都会有不同的人物角色,但她们都有共同之处。”

Hunt

For Yan, her art has also become a process of self-discovery regarding what it means to be a woman. “When I depict women, I think it’s different than when men depict women. When men depict women, it might be as an outside observer. But when I depict women, it’s a depiction of who I am.”


对于闫威来说,艺术是一个自我发现的过程,让她探讨成为一名女性的意义。“当我画女性时,应该跟男性画家描绘女性形象是不同的。男人画女性时,可能是以外部观察者的角度来创作的。但是当我画女性的时候,其实也是在画自己。”

Double Birth
Croquet
Tide
Empirical Wonderland

Yan Wei will be hosting a solo exhibition in Beijing, China opening on March 3rd, 2018. See below for full details.


接下来,闫威将在北京举办个人作品展,开幕日为2018年03月03日。请参阅下面的详细信息。

Event:
VANITY
Yan Wei Solo Exhibition in Beijing

Date: March 3rd, 2018 ~ April 3rd, 2018
Opening Reception: March 3rd 15:00 – 18:00

Address:
Hi Art Center
B-B36, UBP
No. 10 Jiuxianqiao Road
Chaoyang District, Beijing
People’s Republic of China

 


活动:
《浮世》
闫威个人作品展

展期: 2018年03月03日 —— 2018年04月03日
开幕酒会: 03月03日,15:00 – 18:00

地址:
中国
北京朝阳区
酒仙桥路10号
恒通商务园B36-B座1层
Hi艺术中心

Instagram: @koomoowei

 

Contributor & Videographer: George Zhi Zhao


Instagram@koomoowei

 

供稿人与摄影师: George Zhi Zhao

Young Wild & Free

Wang Wei is a Beijing-based photographer who works entirely on 35mm analog film. Though he’s best known for his fashion photography, Wang’s personal work offers a unique perspective of life in China. His ongoing series, Young Wild & Free, consists of fun, quirky vignettes of his daily life and the lives of those around him. These images capture a sense of playfulness and freedom that encapsulate the coming-of-age experience for the youth of China.


来自北京的王未是一位坚持只用35mm胶片拍摄的摄影师。虽然如今的王未以时尚摄影而闻名,但他的个人作品却为人们提供了一个独特的视角,得以观察在中国的生活。目前他正在进行的系列《Young Wild & Free》中,拍下了他和他身边人有趣且离奇的日常生活。这些照片概括了中国年轻人的成长经历,捕捉到了玩乐和自由的感觉。

Wang was first introduced to photography in middle school when he received a mobile phone with a built-in camera as a birthday present. Although the camera’s resolution was only around 0.3 megapixels, the ability to take photos was life-changing for him. He tells us, “At school, I would always be taking pictures of my classmates, of life on campus, of things that happened in my daily life. Soon after, my parents purchased a digital camera, and I would play around with it when they weren’t using it. Sometimes I would even bring it with me to school. Since then, I just haven’t stopped shooting.”


初中的时候,有一年过生日,王未收到了一台能拍照的手机作为生日礼物,虽然这台手机只能拍30万像素的照片,但拍照这个功能对他来说特别新鲜。他说:上学的时候我就爱各种拍,拍同学,拍校园生活和身边的事情。之后家里也换了一部数码相机,父母不用的时候我就自己随便鼓弄,有时上学我也会带着。就这样一直没有停过,拍到了现在。

The Young Wild & Free series came about during Wang’s university years, when he would continue to photograph scenes from his life and the people around him. The name of the series came about when he heard Snoop Dogg’s song “Young, Wild and Free.” He would readopt the name for his own project: “Young” was the reference to his subject matters, “wild” as a reference to the aesthetic, and “free” as the general feeling that he wanted to share with his audience. As his photography evolved over the series’ development, Wang also experienced a change in his own attitude towards art, life, and the world at large. “At the time, I was pretty rebellious, and it felt like my photos were becoming gloomier. But then I went through a period where I was traveling a lot, and it helped me realize the world was a beautiful place. After I came back home, I felt like my mind had been opened – my aesthetic and outlook were drastically changed, and my photography changed with it. I kept the carefree and joyous aspects of my previous photographic style but got rid of the sad and depressed side.” The project is a continual work in progress that holds significant personal meaning to Wang: “It’s become a long-term project that I hold close to my heart, and I plan to keep adding to it. It’s a reflection of my life and all of my emotions.”


王未开始创作《Young Wild & Free》是在大学的时候,当时的他还一直在拍摄朋友和身边的年轻人。有一天,王未听到Snoop Dogg的《Young Wild & Free》后,就决定用歌名作为这个摄影系列的名字。如同《Young Wild & Free》的字面意思,年轻,狂野,自由。年轻是指他选择的拍摄对象,狂野是他的视觉形式,而自由则是他想表达给观众的感觉。在创作这一系列期间,王未对艺术、生活和世界的态度发生了变化,摄影风格也随之改变那段时间我非常叛逆,拍摄的作品也有些颓废。但是之后突然有段时间我开始疯狂旅行,觉得世界特别美好,回来后整个人也打开了,审美和价值观都发生了变化,作品风格随之也改变了。于是我把先前照片中快乐自由、释放的一面保留了下来,舍去了悲伤和颓废的一面。王未会一直不断地去创作这一个摄影系列,因为它对王未自己来说有着特殊的意义,现在这个系列是我的一个长期项目,鲜活可喜,对我的意义非凡,我会一直拍下去。

A photograph from the series that sticks out in Wang’s memory is an image of a girl standing in front of rainbow-colored plane trails. He shares, “It was a fleeting moment. It’s meaningful to me because of how difficult it was to capture, a lot harder than you could imagine.” Taken in Beijing in 2015 at the military parade to commemorate the 70th anniversary of the defeat of Japan in World War II, the photograph was planned meticulously beforehand by Wang and a friend. However, even after setting up the shot on a rooftop and anticipating the path and schedule of the airplane formation, Wang found himself rushed and unprepared to shoot when the actual moment arrived. “When the planes actually went overhead, they flew by so fast, the noise was deafening, and my camera can’t shoot in burst. Despite the planning, it felt like I was winging it when the moment happened. In my excitement, I took two photographs. When I developed them, I was surprised that both of the photos came out great. I felt really happy, and definitely knew that I got lucky.”


这个系列中,有一张照片让王未尤其印象深刻。那是一个站在喷射彩烟飞机前面的女孩。他说:这张照片有很强的瞬时性,所以非常难得也很有意义,当然实际拍摄情况也远比想象的要艰难那张照片是他在2015年北京反法西斯战争胜利70周年阅兵当天拍摄的。王未提前和朋友构思并准备好怎样拍摄。但是,尽管他们在楼顶摆好相机,预估了飞机方阵的大致时间和方位,但真正到了要拍摄的时候,还是有点手忙脚乱。实际飞机过来时,速度非常快,噪音也很大,而且我的相机没有连拍功能,真的可以用瞎拍来形容,激动之余就拍了两张。片子洗出来,竟然两张都抓拍到了很棒的瞬间,非常惊喜,也算非常的幸运了,这种拍摄经历挺有意思的。他说道。

Growing up in Beijing, Wang brings a unique perspective and outlook to the city. According to him, “Beijing is a special place – it’s a cultural and political center. I feel like people have stronger principles here, and as a result, artistic expression is more direct.” As a Beijing native, the familiarity of the city gives him a greater sense of security and creative freedom. “It allows the freedom to follow your instincts, without having to consider too many things. Being in this kind of environment allows me to simplify my creative process, and results come more naturally.”


王未从小在北京长大,对这座城市他有自己独特的见解和看法。他说:北京这座城市很特殊,文化和政治的中心。它给我的感觉就是是非观会比较强,可能在艺术的表达上就会更加直接。作为土生土长的北京人,他对这座城市的熟悉赋予了他更多创作时的安全感和自由。(我在创作时)能随心所欲,不用考虑太多,所以在这种环境下,会使我的创作过程更加简单,创作结果更加原始。王未解释道。

As a photographer who focuses on youth, Wang is inspired by the nostalgia of 20th-century Western coming-of-age films. He shares with us, “I remember watching one film where the mood and the shots were really great; even though it didn’t have any subtitles, and I couldn’t understand what the actors were saying, I still watched it twice.” A film that left a deep impression on him was the 1990 independent comedy-drama Slacker, directed by Richard Linklater. “I found it to be both boring and compelling. It was boring because of the relative cultural differences and it taking place in a time and place that I couldn’t relate to. But it was compelling because of the way it was shot and the general atmosphere of the film – the ending had me excited for the whole afternoon.” Wang is inspired by the parallels between photography and film, and channels this inspiration into his own photo shoots: “I care more about the feeling of the entire film,” he tells us. “Sometimes when I’m on a photo shoot, I’ll think of it like I’m making a film. I’ll focus on creating a certain mood, and before I shoot, I’ll reference films or movie stills that are similar to what I want to create. When I shoot, I’ll channel this information in my own way to make my images.”


作为一名喜欢专注青春主题来拍摄的摄影师,王未的创作灵感在很大程度上都是来自 20世纪的欧美青春电影。他解释道:我曾经看了一部西语电影,画面和氛围都很好,没有字幕,我也听不懂,但是还是看了两遍。一部让他印象深刻的电影是Richard Linklater导演的《都市浪人》(Slacker)。他回忆道:我觉得这部电影既无聊又有趣,无聊是因为文化差异和时代背景不同,提不起兴趣,有趣是因为拍摄形式和整体感觉很吸引人,尤其是电影结尾的处理,让我兴奋一下午。电影与摄影之间的共通之处让王未深受启发,并将之融入自己的摄影中。我更在乎一部电影的整体感觉,我拍照有时就像在拍电影,比较在意最终营造的氛围,拍摄前会看些类似的电影或者剧照,拍摄时再把吸收信息的通过自己的方式释放出来,完成作品。

For Wang, authenticity is the most essential element of good photography. He says, “When an image is authentic, it will leave a deeper impression on me. ‘Authentic’ doesn’t just mean it’s documenting something. I’m talking about an artistic kind of authenticity, for example, something that is irreplicable or feels within reach.” This philosophy of authenticity is evident in Wang’s own work and life, and in that sense, his approach towards photography has stayed consistent throughout the years. He says, “I don’t really like to follow what others are doing. I like to put a certain distance between myself from the world. I don’t like to passively absorb information, so I’ll usually just keep my head down and work on my own stuff. I’m clear on what I’m doing and where I want to go, so I focus on my own ideas.”


在王未看来,真实性是一张好照片的重要元素。他说:如果一张照片是真实的,更容易打动我。真实不是纪实,是艺术上的真实感。比如,难以复制或者令人触手可及。在王未的生活和工作中,保持真实一直是他的一个重要理念。同样,他的摄影方式在多年来也依旧保持初心。他说:我很少关注其他人在做什么,我喜欢屏蔽外界,不喜欢被动接收信息,所以我一直埋头做自己的事情,比较清楚自己在做什么,将来要做什么,在乎自己内心的想法,无论是对摄影还是其他。

Instagram@wangwei_instagram
Flickr: ~/wang_wei
Weibo
~/wangwei5945

 

Contributor: George Zhi Zhao


Instagram@wangwei_instagram
Flickr: ~/wang_wei
微博
~/wangwei5945

 

供稿人: George Zhi Zhao

King of Peking

 

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King of Peking (2017) is a new comedic drama set in 1990s Beijing that follows a down-and-out movie projectionist and his son as they try to make it big by starting their own pirated movie company. Written and directed by Australian filmmaker Sam Voutas, the film was inspired by his experience of growing up in Beijing in the 1980s and 1990s and the bootleg film industry that blossomed around that period. Funded in part by crowdfunding campaigns, King of Peking is a heartwarming exploration of father-and-son relationships, morality, and what it means to be an example to others. Neocha had the opportunity for an exclusive interview with Voutas to learn more about the film, his thoughts on the filmmaking process, and his memories of China.


《京城之王》(King of Peking)(2017)是一部以20世纪90年代北京为背景的喜剧片。影片讲述了一名穷困潦倒电影放映员和他的儿子想通过开盗版片加工厂来致富的故事。这部电影由澳大利亚导演司马优(Sam Voutas)担任编剧和导演,灵感来源于司马优20世纪80年代和90年代在北京成长的经历,以及在这段时期内蓬勃发展的盗版电影业。这部电影依靠众筹获得了部分的拍摄资金,是一部探讨父子关系、道德及作为他人榜样的意义的暖心之作。Neocha独家专访了司马优(Sam Voutas),了解更多关于这部电影、他在电影片拍摄过程的一些想法,以及他对中国的回忆。

Neocha: You have a history of working with the same actors and crew on some of your previous films. How did your team first come together?

Voutas: Yes, there’s quite a few of us who’ve worked together before, such as producers Jane Zheng and Melanie Ansley, as well as our sound engineer Jules Ambroisine. The first time we all worked together as a team was on Red Light Revolution, a sex shop comedy we filmed in Beijing at the end of 2009. Even though several years had passed, we approached the crew from Red Light Revolution first for King of Peking. Obviously, due to people’s schedules we couldn’t get all the same people, but Melanie, Jane, and Jules were all on board super early. And also very important for me was getting Zhao Jun, who also starred in Red Light Revolution, back for the lead role. In terms of how we met him, Melanie found him in Beijing’s Penghao Theatre years ago when we were doing auditions. He was in their café, patting a dog, and Melanie just walked up to him and asked if he was an actor. He said no. But luckily the friends who were with him told him to come clean! He went upstairs, auditioned, and nailed it. He’s such a natural, fun actor.


Neocha: 你拍摄的电影常常是和同一班演员和团队合作的。你们这个团队最开始是怎么走在一起的?

Voutas: 是的,我们中有不少人曾经一起工作过,比如制片人Jane Zheng和Melanie Ansley,还有我们的音响工程师Jules Ambroisine。我们团队第一次一起工作,是在2009年底拍摄《红灯梦》(Red Light Revolution)的时候,我们在北京拍摄的一部有关成人用品商店的喜剧片。过了几年,当我们要拍《京城之王》时还是先找了拍《红灯梦》的团队。Melanie、Jane和Jules很早就确认要参与拍摄,但其余的大家各自有自己的工作安排,我们也不能找到全部的原班人马。另外非常重要的是本次饰演电影主角的演员赵骏回归荧幕,他也曾出演过《红灯梦》。我们结缘就是在几年前北京的蓬蒿剧场,我们正在试镜时,Melanie看到了他。他当时正在咖啡馆里,逗着狗玩,Melanie就走到他面前,问他是不是演员。他否认了。还好他旁边的朋友叫他老实坦白!他后来就上楼试镜去了,拿下了那个角色。他是个很真实、很有趣的演员。

Neocha: You started out as a documentary filmmaker before you got into narrative films. What was it like to make that transition?

Voutas: Documentaries are wonderful but I always found them very difficult regarding developing story. You’d have to wait and wait for something interesting to happen to the characters, often waiting weeks, or months even. And sometimes when that wonderful moment arrived, that scene or story turn you’d been waiting for, you weren’t there! Your phone would ring and the character would tell you what just happened to them! The frustration! With fiction, while it still takes a long time, at least from the script stage you can devise a path that the characters will take. You can plot the course more. So I’ve found that fiction film is, for me anyway, a better way to go. At least when something interesting happens to a character, I can be there to film it.


Neocha: 在你拍摄叙事电影之前,你一开始是一名纪录片制片人。对于这种转变,你自己有什么想法?

Voutas: 拍摄纪录片是很棒的,但是我发现,在故事发展方面,它们很难把握。你必须一直等待,等待一些有趣的事情发生在拍摄对象身上,这往往要等上几个星期,甚至几个月。有时,当那个精彩的时刻,那个你一直在等待的一幕或故事的转折点发生时,你却偏偏不在现场!直到你的手机响了,拍摄对象告诉你刚刚发生了什么事,你才知道!真是很有挫败感!而电影虽然也需要很长的时间来制作,但至少在剧本阶段,你可以设计角色的经历。你可以对故事的发展有更多的把握。所以我觉得电影对我来说更为合适。至少当角色发生有趣的事情时,我可以确保自己拍摄下来。

Neocha: What was it like to grow up as a foreigner in China during the 1980s? Looking back, how has that experience played a role in defining your filmmaking career?

Voutas: When I first lived in Beijing in the 80s, there were hardly any cars on the road. The bike lanes were packed with bicycles, but the main roads themselves were mostly empty but for the old buses. If someone in a car drove by, you knew they were a big deal. And if you wanted a burger, there was one hotel in town that could make one. As foreigners, we weren’t able to use the main currency of renminbi. We had to use something called FEC, and that had a different exchange rate even! So very different times. I reckon my perspective has changed primarily because I’m thirty years older. Back then I wanted to just play in the dirt, and now I guess the major change is that I’m playing in the same way, but on film sets. The make-believe element is still there. I’m just playing with different toys and with new friends.


Neocha: 在20世纪80年代,作为一名在中国长大的外国人是什么样的?这段经历对你的电影制作生涯有何影响?

Voutas: 80年代,我第一次到北京生活时,路上几乎没有汽车。自行车道上挤满了自行车,但大路上大多是空的,只有残旧的公共汽车。如果有人开小车经过,你就知道这肯定是个大人物。如果你想吃汉堡,北京市内只有一家酒店可以吃到。同样,作为外国人,我们是不能使用人民币的。我们不得不使用FEC(外汇券)来付钱,它甚至还有不同的汇率!那个时代跟现在真是截然不同。我觉得我的一些观点已经改变,可能主要是因为我已经三十岁了!当时的我只想玩泥沙,现在我想主要的改变是我还是在玩,但却是在拍摄电影时玩。那种“过家家”的元素仍然存在。我只是找到了新的朋友一起玩不同的玩具。

Neocha: Can you tell us about some of the challenges you faced in creating a period piece set in 1990s Beijing?

Voutas: Our film is set in the late 1990s, and what I hadn’t predicted was that so little of 1990s Beijing is left in the city today. We scouted Beijing for a few weeks before we realized the locations simply weren’t there anymore. The old neighborhoods had turned into high rises, so we ended up filming the majority of the movie in Hebei Province. The old cinemas, buildings, amusement parks, we found them out there. It was a very stressful time because without the locations we didn’t have a movie.


Neocha: 你能跟我们分享一下,在拍摄这部以20世纪90年代的北京为背景的电影时你所面临的一些挑战吗?

Voutas: 我们的电影的背景设在了90年代末,而我没有料到的是,90年代的痕迹在今天的北京已经很难找到了。我们在北京找了几个星期,才发现已经找不到那样的拍摄场地了。老街区都变成了高楼。所以,我们大部分场景最后都要去河北拍摄。旧电影院、建筑物、游乐园都在那里找得到。那段时间压力真是非常大,因为如果没有外景拍摄场地,就拍不成这部电影了。

Neocha: What advice would you give to aspiring filmmakers, in China or otherwise?

Voutas: Be persistent. It’s a long game. It’s okay to make mistakes, to fail even; that’s just called learning. Often it’s two steps forward, one step back, and sometimes you just fall on your face. It’s just the way it is. Just try and tell stories any way you can. Even if you’re shooting on your phone, that’s fine. The important part is to keep on trying, to not take no for an answer.


Neocha: 对中国或其它国家那些有志于拍摄电影的人,你有什么建议?

Voutas: 坚持不懈。这是一场漫长的比赛。犯错误是可以的,甚至失败也行,这就是所谓的学习。你往往前进两步,又要后退一步,有时甚至会跌倒。这就是现实。尽你所能讲故事。就算你只是拿着手机拍摄也没关系,重要的是要继续努力,别放弃。

King of Peking will have an upcoming screening in Beijing, along with a Q&A session with the director. See below or click here for details.

 

Event: King of Peking: Film Screening and Director Q&A

Time: Wednesday, December 13th, 2017, 7 ~ 9:30 pm

Cost: 50 RMB

Address:
The Hutong
1 Jiudaowan Zhongxiang
Beixinqiao, Dongcheng District
Beijing, People’s Republic of China


《京城之王》即将在北京举办放映,现场还会有一个与导演进行的问答环节。浏览下方或登陆网站了解更多。

 

活动:《京城之王》电影放映和导演问答

时间: 星期三,2017年12月13日,下午7点至9点30

费用: 50元

地址:
中国
北京市东城区
北新桥九道湾中巷1号
The Hutong

Facebook: ~/kingofpeking

 

Contributor: George Zhi Zhao


脸书: ~/kingofpeking

 

供稿人: George Zhi Zhao

9999

Earsnail is an electronic music duo comprised of musicians Wang Xu and Yan Shuai. Combining their individual approaches to music, the duo is unconstrained by boundaries of genre. Their experimental style reimagines the possibilities of sound and how music can be presented. Under FakeMusicMedia, the two have recently released their debut album, 9999, and locked in tour dates that takes the duo across China. We grabbed drinks with the duo during the Shanghai stop of their tour to learn about their recent musical developments and what we can expect from them in the future.


耳蜗是北京非刻文化旗下的电子乐团,由音乐人王旭和阎帅组成。二人对音乐及乐器的把控有着不同寻常的理解及释放,没有风格的界定及预想,他们发掘着新的方式,试图用不同于以往表达的途径和声音构建一些新的可能。借着新专辑《9999》的发布,耳蜗的全国巡演来到了上海站,我们就在一个雨夜,跟耳蜗一起喝着啤酒聊了聊他们以及他们正在做的事。

Having played in bands when they were younger, Wang Xu and Yan Shi have both been interested in creating music even prior to Earsnail. In 2013, the two would meet up and experiment with the production equipment they each had on hand. These early days of experimentation became the foundation for Earsnail. Now, the two’s production style have matured immensely since those early days, with each track filled with richly complex elements. Yan Shi shares that one of his favorite samples is from a field recording of a random saxophonist they met at the park – even though the original recorded sound wasn’t interesting, they were able to take segments of it and integrate it perfectly into a track.


王旭和阎帅早年都身处各自的乐队,13年两人决定把手头上的电子设备攒在一起,开始创作电子音乐。耳蜗的音乐里包含着丰富的元素,阎帅跟我们分享了他们录取的公园里有人在练习吹萨克斯的声音。录音本身也许极不协调,却被很巧妙的融入他们的作品中。

The new album, 9999, is a reference to Beijing’s nickname of “The Four Nine City,” a fitting name considering that the duo sees the album as a compilation of their memories from living in Beijing. For Wang Xu, the most meaningful track on the entire album is “City Bird.” “The song has to do with the place where I called home,” he shares. “There was a tree in front of my house, and during that time, Beijing’s air quality was particularly bad. A few birds made their nest there, and I would observe these birds as they grew and hatched babies. Watching them survive in this kind of environment gave me a lot of different ideas. It made me feel like our lives were not too different from the lives of these birds.” Similarly, their “Ant” track builds on the theme of living in urban environments. The song is a statement about the daily lives of the working class, likening them to a colony ants, continuously working to survive without a moment of respite.


《9999》意为四九之城,这张专辑也记录了两位创作者在北京的生活状态,让王旭印象最深刻的是《城市小鸟》,“这跟我住的地方有关,我们家前边有一棵树,北京那段时间的空气特别不好,有几只鸟在那棵树上筑巢,那两只鸟越来越大,后来还生了小鸟,它们拥有这样的一个小窝在这个城市里生存着,我每天看着他们的状态,有一些想法就记录下来了,觉得我们其实跟它们差不多。”而《蚂蚁》也正是反映了生活在北京的全国各地的人们的一种共同的生活状态,在这个偌大的城市里,我们也许像蚂蚁一样微不足道,却始终推动着大齿轮的转动,一刻不得松懈。

Listen to select tracks from the new album below:

Earsnail – Ants

Earsnail – City Bird

Earsnail – Post Soho City


点击下方链接试听新专辑的精选曲目:

耳蜗 – 蚂蚁

耳蜗 – 城市小鸟

耳蜗 – 后现代城

The two share a similar mixed feeling around the current state of electronic music in China. They’re both eager to see more new faces and hear new sounds but also feel a sense of apprehension. “I feel like it’s good that more and more people are interested in this kind of music, and more are willing to try and produce it,” Wang Xu comments. “But at the same time, I feel like people are very impatient in this kind of environment, whenever they start anything they’ll first think about whether or not their work will succeed or be recognized by others.”


对目前的电子音乐创作环境,他们有担忧也有期待:“我觉得有一点特别好的是,越来越多的人对电子乐感兴趣,也尝试去创作。 只是其实当下的创作环境还是挺浮躁的,大家在做一件事的时候可能会先去想我的作品会不会成功,会不会被认可。”

As their tour nears the end, Earsnail has toured through a number of different cities across China. The duo has been documenting every city along the way. “Of course, every city is different,” Wang comments, expressing an eagerness to revisit certain cities on their tour. “I’m curious about the changes that these different cities have undergone over the years. The plan is to snap some photos and also keep my ears open to try and find interesting sounds to sample in these different cities.” Concluding their China tour, Earsnail will be stopping by Guangzhou, Shenzhen, and Zhuhai. Click here to purchase tickets.


巡演过程中,耳蜗去往全国很多城市,熟悉或不熟悉的都有,他们也期待纪录下更多内容。“每个城市都特别不一样,最大的好奇点是这些城市相对于几年前发生的变化。我们会在这些城市采集一些有趣的声音,拍一些有意思的影像。” 接下来,耳蜗的巡演还会去到广州、深圳及珠海三个城市,点此购票。

Xiami: ~/Earsnail
QQ: ~/Earsnail

 

Contributor: Shou Xing
Photographer: Ye Zi
Additional Images Courtesy of Earsnail


虾米: ~/Earsnail
QQ: ~/Earsnail

 

供稿人: Shou Xing
摄影师: Ye Zi
附加图片由耳蝸提供

The Collage Art of He Chong

Collage art has been a long-established form of art. It’s a versatile medium that’s unrestrained by conventional forms of artistic expression and can be used to document time, history, and change. Beijing-based artist He Chong is one of the few Chinese artists who work primarily in this medium. But aside from his collage art, He Chong is also an avid photographer whose weapons of choice are Lomography cameras. In a way, his style in both mediums is quite similar, psychedelic and surreal but presented in a unique retro aesthetic.


拼贴是一门悠久的艺术形式,变化多样的作品不仅限于艺术的表达方式同时可以作为记事方式存在。北京艺术家贺翀是目前为数不多的将拼贴作为主要创作手段的艺术家。贺翀在生活中的另一个身份便是与Lomo相机打交道,就如同Lomo的理念一样,复古与迷幻是他的专属风格。

When talking about the current state of collage art in China, He Chong tells us: “Most of the collage works that people know of are made by foreign artists. In China, there are only a few artists that work in this medium, and most of them are art students who might learn about or use collage for a class assignment. But I feel that in both the fields of art and design, collage is a medium that has impressive visual potential. I believe it has a bright future.”


当谈论到拼贴艺术的现状时他说:“目前呈现在大众视野中的作品大多为国外的艺术家创作的,国内只有少数艺术家会用到这个创作手段,大多都是美术学生在上课会学到或者用到这个方式,但不论在设计领域还是艺术领域中,拼贴都可以满足大多数人的视觉需求,所以我想前景应该是一片大好的。”

As a self-described reclusive artist, He Chong spends his free time with his wife creating collages, taking photographs, or walking in the park. He’s someone who has found happiness in living a laid-back lifestyle rather than chasing superficial pursuits. He Chong’s work is much like his attitude towards life, relaxed and unconstrained. The creative freedom of collage art seems to perfectly go hand in hand with the mellow, carefree attitude that He Chong lives by.


贺翀自称为“闭门造车”型的艺术家。闲暇生活便是同妻子一起做拼贴、拍照、逛公园,自由自在的幸福。贺翀的作品就如同他的生活一般不受约束,拼贴本身创作上的自由与他生活的自由结合在了一起。

Weibo~/朵儿赛

 

Contributor: Sonic Yuan


微博~/朵儿赛

 

供稿人: Sonic Yuan