Our notions of identity and belonging are largely influenced by our upbringing. But third-culture kids—those raised in a culture different from that of their birth parents—often struggle to reconcile their feeling of otherness once they’re of age. A conversation starter as simple as “Where are you from?” can feel like a question designed to stump.
For Shanghai-born photographer Ding Wei, a sense of unbelonging has shadowed him his entire adult life. To express the feelings of alienation he experienced in both Shanghai and in New York, he’s created Seven, a powerful series of self-portraits that sees the seven emotions of Chinese medicine—grief, anxiety, pensiveness, fear, fright, anger, joy, and worry—inscribed across his face.
每个人的身份认同和归属感在很大程度上都会受到成长经历的影响。但是，对于第三文化孩子（即成长文化背景与父母不同的孩子）来说，在成年之后，常常因为局外者的感觉而陷入挣扎。像“你来自哪里？”这样的简单问话也变成了一个难以回答的问题。
对于在上海出生的摄影师丁惟成来说，成年后的他，总是被一种孤独的感觉笼罩着。为了表达自己在上海和纽约这两座城市那种格格不入的感受，他创作了自拍人像系列《七》(Seven)，在每幅自拍印上中医所指的“七情”，即喜、怒、忧、思、悲、恐、惊。
In traditional Chinese medicine, it’s believed that these seven emotions have a direct influence on our health and well-being, and if left unchecked, it can be disastrous. For Ding, these emotions often come in tempestuous whirlwinds. “The seven emotions is a precise and poetic way of expressing a person’s range of emotions on a macro level,” he says. “So each of these emotions is something I have experienced or actively experience.”
In every shot, Ding has painted his skin like a chameleon in an attempt to match the colored backdrop, a reflection of his desire to blend into the world. But despite his efforts, Ding still sticks out like a sore thumb, speaking to the futility of his efforts in real life. “When I talk with local Chinese people, they view me as an American,” he says. “When I talk with Westerners, they see me as Chinese.”
传统中医认为，这七种情绪会直接影响人们的健康和幸福感，如果不加节制，将会带来毁灭性的后果。对于丁惟成来说，这些情绪常常像来势光汹汹的狂风。他说：“七情从宏观层面，以一种精确而富有诗意的方式，诠释了一个人的所有情感范畴。所以，这七种情绪我都经历过，或者说深有体会。”
在每一幅自拍中，丁惟成将自己的皮肤涂成不同颜色，像变色龙一样，匹配着背景的颜色，以此表达他融入世界的渴望。尽管如此，他仍然显得如此突兀，一如他为融入现实世界作出的徒劳努力。他说：“当我与中国人说话时，他们把我当作美国人。当我与西方人说话时，他们又把我看作中国人。”
The expressions he conveys in each photo are subtle, but very much linked to the corresponding Chinese character—all except for one that is. On Joy, though Ding intended to relay a subdued interpretation of the emotion, it’s hardly visible. On a subconscious level, perhaps this is meant to mirror his realities. The vibrant reds that engulf the composition, which is typically regarded as an auspicious color in Chinese culture, almost feel menacing and portentous in this context.
在每张照片中，他露出微妙的表情，一一对应着画面上的汉字，除了其中一幅——“喜”。在“喜”这幅自拍中，丁惟成想以克制的方式表现这种情感，但看上去却几乎完全看不出喜悦的情感。可能在潜意识层面上，这正是他现实的写照。画面所充斥的鲜红色彩在中国文化中向来象征吉祥，现在看上去却显得有些可怕。
But make no mistake. Ding isn’t surrendering to his emotional lows. In the search to understand his own identity, he’s faced countless challenges and defeats along the way, but they’re not what define him. “I think it is a difficult and ever-changing process for people,” he says. “For my younger self, it was difficult, but my relationship with it has been healthy in the past few years.
A closer look at Seven reveals Ding staring intently into the camera across the majority of the shots. His defiant gaze feels like a declaration, saying to viewers, “Only I define who I am.”
但毫无疑问， 丁惟成并不打算屈服于这些负面情绪。在寻求自我认同的过程中，他遇到过无数挑战和失败，但这并不能代表他。他说：“我觉得这对每个人来说都是一个艰难和不断变化的过程。对年轻时的我，这是一个难题；但在过去这几年里，我在处理这个问题上也变得更平和。”
仔细观察《七》，你会发现在大多数自拍中，丁惟成都直视着镜头，他挑衅的目光仿佛是一种宣言，在对观众说：“只有我才能定义自己。”
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Contributor: David Yen
Chinese Translation: Olivia Li
