艺言难尽 Speak No More｜看似奶油蛋糕的黑森林

张业鸿：以前学当代艺术史的时候曾经听过一则小故事：1947年的某一天，19岁的克莱因与阿尔曼和克洛德·帕斯卡尔躺在尼斯的沙滩上玩瓜分世界的小游戏，阿尔曼选择了陆地，帕斯卡尔包揽了空气，克莱因则希望拥有蓝色的天空，他甚至幻想在天穹的另一边签下自己的名字，成为蓝天的主人。正如他后来所说，“蓝色的天空是我的第一件作品”，他的一生都着迷于这个神秘的颜色，再后来当然就是那个人人皆知的的国际克莱因蓝。

这么说可能有点穿越——我在时间线的另一端找到与之呼应的线索是网络图库的版权水印，密密麻麻的倾斜文字让我想起了这则艺术小故事。为什么不试试把他们关联起来呢？最后我有点阴差阳错地找到了关于天空书写（sky-writing）这个失落的媒介。它刚好是位于两者中间的一个位置，反而在呈现上，开头提到的这两个线索变得更加隐性和含蓄了。但在我看来，天空写作者（sky-writer）本身既是1947年想在天空签上自己名字的克莱因，同时也是把水印打在图片上的摄影师。

Zhang Yehong: When I used to study contemporary art history, I once heard a little story: one day in 1947, 19-year-old Klein was lying on the beach in Nice with Arman and Claude Pascal playing a little game of dividing the world. Arman chose the land, Pascal bagged the air, and Klein wished to have the blue sky, and he even fantasized about signing his name on the other side of the skydome and becoming the master. As he later said, "The blue sky was my first work," and he was fascinated by this mysterious color for the rest of his life, and then, of course, the international Klein Blue that everyone knows.

That may be a bit of a crossover - the clue I found echoed at the other end of the timeline was the copyright watermark on the web gallery, the dense, slanted text reminding me of this little art story. Why not try to correlate them? I ended up finding, somewhat by accident, the lost medium of sky-writing. It happens to be located somewhere in the middle of the two, and instead, the two clues mentioned at the beginning become more implicit and subtle in their presentation. But in my opinion, the sky-writer itself is both Klein, who wanted to sign his name on the sky in 1947, and the photographer who put the watermark on the picture.

天空签名，拟像空间，北京，2021

渣克周：所以你的展览标题sky-writing没有直接译作“天空书写”，而用了“天空签名”。

Zachariah Zhou: So the title of your exhibition, sky-writing, does not directly translate as "sky-writing," but rather "sky-signing."

张业鸿：对。一方面对应了克莱因的“签名”，另一方面“书写”的说法听上去过于中性了。不是经常有游客在景区的墙上写下自己的名字（xxx❤️xxx），我想表达的“签名”更倾向于那一种意象：看似浪漫，实则充满暴力和伤害性的。

Zhang Yehong: Yes. On the one hand, it corresponds to Klein's "signature," but on the other hand, the word "writing" sounds too neutral. Not often do tourists write their names (xxx❤xxx) on the walls of scenic spots, but the "signature" I want to express is more inclined to that kind of imagery: seemingly romantic, but violent and hurtful.

渣克周：听上去是个挺飞的脑暴过程，你最后是怎么整合这些素材的？

Zachariah Zhou: It sounded like a pretty fly-by-night brainstorming process. How did you finally integrate the material?

张业鸿：可能是我的直觉，在搜集资料时我找到了一些跟我的概念相当吻合的叙事。比如，这门技术的前身正是一战的烟幕，战后被应用于商业手段；在商业中，它又引发了另一场“战争”——各大广告商对空中领域争夺；德国人用它来躲避凡尔赛条约，披着商业广告的外衣秘密训练空军力量；用于喷射烟雾表演的飞机，在战争时是无情的杀戮机器，写下示爱和祝福语句的飞行员，或许曾是下令轰炸城市的军官...这些矛盾的内核都是我感兴趣的地方，在美的背后究竟隐藏了怎样的裂痕呢？准确来说我不是去整合它们，而是慢慢被它们打开了。

Zhang Yehong: It was probably my intuition, and in gathering information, I found some narratives that fit my concept quite well. For example, the technology was formerly used as a smokescreen in World War I. After the war, it was used for commercial purposes; in business, it triggered another "war" - major advertisers competed for the airfield; the Germans used it to evade the Treaty of Versailles and to secretly train their air force under the guise of commercial advertising; it was used to train the air force in secret under the guise of commercial advertising; and it was used for the air force. The planes used for smoke shows were ruthless killing machines during the war, and the pilots who wrote messages of love and blessings may have been the officers who ordered the bombing of cities... These contradictory kernels are what interest me. What kind of cracks are hidden behind the beauty? To be precise, I did not go to integrate them but was slowly opened by them.

天空签名，拟像空间，北京，2021

渣克周：但它们最后是落位到图像上的，你串联起了很多不同的关于sky-writing的图像，整个展览看上去更像是一个图像研究。

Zachariah Zhou: But they finally fall into place in the images. You have strung together many different images about sky-writing, and the whole exhibition looks more like an image study.

张业鸿：确实可以这样认为，但其实我不太喜欢那种严谨的科研工作来着。图像之间那个点和其跨越性的能量更加吸引我，换言之，就是某种跳跃的阅读感。我记得第一次看波拉尼奥的《遥远的星辰》时，就被主角这位集杀手、诗人、空军军官和天空写作者一体的气质吸引，不过当时我以为这种写作技术只是波拉尼奥自己的臆想而已，没想到真的存在。而在我研究天空写作的历史时，这几个东西被完全接通了。浪漫、诗意、暴力、杀戮并不是完全对立，有时甚至可能就是一体两面。

Zhang Yehong: It's true, but I don't really like that kind of rigorous scientific work. The dots between images and their transgressive energy are more appealing to me, in other words, a certain sense of jumping around. I remember the first time I read Bolaño's "Distant Stars," I was attracted to the main character, a killer, a poet, an air force officer, and a skywriter, but at the time, I thought this writing technique was just a figment of Bolaño's imagination, but I never thought it really existed. And as I researched the history of skywriting, these few things were fully wired. Romance, poetry, violence, and killing are not entirely opposed to each other, and sometimes they may even be two sides of the same coin.

渣克周：这个展览跟你前几个展览的面貌相差挺多的，它们之间有一个共通的点或者线索吗？

Zachariah Zhou: This exhibition is quite different from your previous ones. Is there a common point or thread between them?

ME,MEMES，无际空间，深圳，2021

张业鸿：明明都很网红啊！（划掉）关联的点我一直都挺明确的，就是对于我们的审美经验中的一些自动化的东西，我们对表象的认识有时会依赖意识形态制造的某种想象。我想把这些用一个戏仿的形式抛出来，通过拆解、重新编排这些元素，产生一种感性的异轨。

就今年的作品来说，在《me，memes》里我关注那些看似无害搞笑的文化模因里面被意识形态利用的部分，在《第二自然》里则是自然主义在后现代被风景化、符号化、政治化之后的情境状况，再往前一点的《日落笔记》和《飞向太空的人》也是，我似乎总是喜欢寻找这类日常景观的之下的感知断层。他们之间的线索不一定非常明显，有时带有分岔和返回的，甚至一个作品会以另外的形式加入到下一个展览里，这也是我自己想抵达的一种复杂性，像卡尔维诺那副无法穷尽的命运交叉塔罗。

Zhang Yehong: Obviously, they are both very instagramable! (Crossed out) The point of connection has always been quite clear to me; for some automatic things in our aesthetic experience, our perception of appearances sometimes relies on some imagination created by ideology. I want to throw these out in a parodic form by dismantling and rearranging these elements to produce a kind of sensual heterogeneous track.

In terms of this year's works, in "me, memes," I focus on those parts of the seemingly harmless and funny cultural modalities that are ideologically exploited. In "Second Nature" it is the situational condition of naturalism after it has been landscaped, symbolized, and politicized in the postmodern era, and a little further back in "Sunset Notes" and "The Man Who Flew to Space" as well, I always seem to like to look for these kinds of everyday landscapes under of perceptual fault lines. The threads between them are not always very obvious, sometimes with bifurcations and returns, and even one work will join the next exhibition in another form, which is a complexity I want to arrive at, like Calvino's inexhaustible tarot of crossed destinies.

第二自然，SHU空间，深圳，2021

渣克周：展览被小红书博主打卡打爆，是你希望看到的结果吗？

Zachariah Zhou: Is it the result you want to see that the exhibition is overwhelmed by Little Red Book bloggers' cards?

张业鸿：小红书用户生态的行为习惯是我近年比较关注的东西，因为在上面搜自己的展经常会搜出一些哭笑不得的评论，比如“展览不大，一分钟可以看完”这种，我还有视频作品过被观众关掉屏幕自拍的经历。（这位观众，请问你家是没有镜子吗？）问题是，今天如果一个主办方制作展览，邀请小红书上kol打卡似乎是标配了，我怀疑我们今天的展览形态是不是已经被自己制造的媒介反过来塑造了？开幕有位观众说我这个展览外面是奶油蛋糕，里面是黑森林，其实蛮形象的这个比喻。有时我想，如果我直接做一个黑森林，观众是不是也会帮它自动加上一层奶油？

Zhang Yehong: The behavior habits of Little Red Book users are something I have paid more attention to in recent years because searching for my own exhibition on it often brings out some stupid comments, such as "the exhibition is not big, you can finish it in a minute," and I have also had the experience of having my video work turned off by the audience to take a selfie. (This audience, please ask yourself why not buy a mirror at home?) The problem is that today, if an organizer produces an exhibition, inviting KOLs on Little Red Book to punch cards seems to be the standard; I wonder if our exhibition form today has been shaped in turn by the media we create? At the opening, an audience member said that the outside of my exhibition is a cream cake, and the inside is a black forest, which is actually quite an analogy. Sometimes I think, if I make a black forest directly, will the audience automatically add a layer of cream for it?

小红书观众打卡截屏

渣克周：齐泽克在《变态者意识形态指南》也说到过，走出意识形态是一种痛苦的经验，有时人们其实非常清楚他正自发地生活在谎言之中，“眼镜”将会使他看到真相，但这个真相可能是痛苦的，它可以粉碎你的许多幻想。

Zachariah Zhou: Zizek also said in "The Pervert's Guide to Ideology" that coming out of ideology is a painful experience. Sometimes people are very aware that they are living a lie spontaneously, and "glasses" will make them see the truth, but this truth may be painful, and it can shatter many of your illusions.

第二自然，SHU空间，深圳，2021

张业鸿：所以不管一个作品表达得多直白，批判总是不会自动会生效的，人有时无法面对那个赤裸裸的真相。这个过程中，更需要观者自发地强迫自己出走。

Zhang Yehong: So no matter how straightforward your work is, the criticism will not automatically be practical, and people sometimes cannot face the naked truth. This process requires the viewer to force himself out spontaneously.

渣克周：你不害怕你作品外观的“好看”某种意义上也在创造一种表层？

Zachariah Zhou: Aren't you afraid that the "good looks" of your works are, in a sense creating a kind of surface?

张业鸿：不能说不害怕，至少是有风险的。但是对我来说，越是光滑的东西分裂瓦解时所产生的张力才会越巨大。

Zhang Yehong: I can't say I'm not afraid; at least it's risky. But for me, the smoother something is, the more tension it creates when it disintegrates.

渣克周：回到小红书的话题，今天的艺术似乎更像一张图像，你能看到大众媒体化的社会里，一切都是为了围绕着图像生产进行。

Zachariah Zhou: Going back to the topic of Little Red Book, today's art seems to be more like an image, and you can see that in a mass media-oriented society, everything is designed to revolve around the production of images.

飞向太空的人，Hitel-hi space，厦门，2018

张业鸿：“好出片”嘛，其实早已经是了。很多人会认为这是某种“生活艺术化”的精英走向公共的倾向，但我觉得这种想法是轻浮的。如果它只是输出一种标准化的品位，它本质上也仅仅是将强化了今天的图像暴力，更加不用说它排除了那些无法被图像化传播的剩余部分。

Zhang Yehong: "Good for a photo," in fact, is already a long time ago. Many people would think that this is the elite's "art of living" tendency going public, but I think this idea is frivolous. If it only exports a standardized taste, it will essentially only reinforce the violence of today's images, not to mention the fact that it excludes the remaining parts that cannot be pictorially disseminated.

渣克周：你的作品为什么喜欢以项目式的方式进行？在媒介的选择上也很多样，有点像一个群展。

Zachariah Zhou: Why do you prefer a project-based approach to your work? The choice of medium is also very diverse, a bit like a group exhibition.

世界尽头协会，样当代艺术空间，厦门，2018

张业鸿：我以前喜欢写小说，小说是词和词的关联。做展览和写小说是一样的，串联起一个作品和另一个作品的关系——这么说我好像还是个策展人。职业病，职业病。噢我还比较讨厌群展，有点无聊，那只能把自己做成群展了。

关于媒介的话，因为我是读油画系的，大学自修过摄影，毕业后做新媒体，业余写作，所以混搭不是刻意呈现的效果，而完全就是我本人的延伸。目前有几个东西基本是固定的，比如绘画跟摄影——展览的图像基础；比如视频论文——为零散的作品提供一个相对紧凑的叙事，但这种阐释通常是后置的。总而言之我希望展览线索是开放的，观众可以根据我给出的素材自行导演那出属于自己的“电影”。

Zhang Yehong: I used to like to write novels, and novels associate words with words. Making an exhibition is the same as writing a novel, linking one work to another - so it seems I'm still a curator: occupational symptoms, occupational disease. Oh, I'm not too fond of group exhibitions, it is a bit boring, so I have to make myself a group exhibition.

Regarding the medium, since I studied oil painting, studied photography in college, did new media after graduation, and wrote in my spare time, the mix is not a deliberate effect but a complete extension of myself. Several things are basically fixed at the moment, such as painting and photography - the pictorial basis of the exhibition, such as video essay - to provide a relatively compact narrative for the fragmented works, but this interpretation is usually postulated. All in all, I want the exhibition to be open-ended so that the audience can direct their own "films" based on the material I give them.

1993年出生于广东广州，2015年毕业于中国美术学院，现隐居于粤港澳大湾区，是一位艺术家、策展人和艺术品牌“联合杂货”的创办者。

他擅长运用项目式的叙事方法连结起某个特定的主题，常常以网络或现实中的拾得图像/名词为起点，在不同的事物间建立起超距的关联。通过挪用、戏仿、反讽等手段，继而对日常经验和传统审美经验中的自动化进行反思和拆解，揭露埋藏在诗意表象背后的感知断层和意识形态。

他曾获得2019年现代汽车文化中心第三届“Hyundai Blue Prize年度艺术大奖”，入围2017年上海当代艺术博物馆PSA青年策展人奖，并担任第五届泼先生奖联合策划人。个展和个人项目包括：天空签名，拟像空间，北京（2021）；Me memes，无际空间，深圳（2021）；第二自然，SHU GALLERY，深圳（2021）；西湖没有普利欧，三尚当代艺术馆，杭州（2020）；日落笔记，要空间，上海（2019）；金色 绿色 春风沉醉，希帕画廊，北京（2018）；世界尽头协会，样当代艺术空间，厦门（2018）;杉本博司的噩梦，五五画廊，上海（2017）；何处无竹柏，十方艺术中心，重庆（2015）; 创造一个花园，共同体艺术空间，杭州（2014）。策划和联合策划展览包括：狼、猞猁和蚁群的游戏社会，现代汽车文化中心，北京（2020）；Playbar 游戏吧，象山艺术公社，杭州（2019）；皮埃尔·梅纳尔学院，E空间，上海（2017）；虚拟中的精神游戏，江虹艺术馆，杭州（2017）；重写百科全书，三尚当代艺术馆，杭州（2016）；隐喻：一种图像性的修辞，西湖当代美术馆，杭州（2015）。

同时，他也以写作和运营艺术平台，寻找展览之外的行动方式。散文和艺术评论见于《飞地》、《Soft》、《艺术当代》等期刊和独立出版物以及线上平台，他主理的“联合杂货”关注艺术在日常行动中的跨越性潜能，并尝试联合不同的力量，在文化叙事中发掘创意的可能性，致力通过分享、策划、出版、售卖，形成一个别样的生态和通道。

Zhang Yehong was born in Guangzhou, Guangdong in 1993. He graduated from the China Academy of Art in 2015 and now lives in seclusion in the Guangdong-Hong Kong-Macao Greater Bay Area. He is an artist, curator and founder of the art brand "United Grocery".

He specialises in using project-based narrative methods to connect a particular theme, often using found images/nouns from the internet or reality as a starting point to establish a hyper-distance connection between different things. By means of appropriation, parody and irony, he then reflects on and dismantles the automatons of everyday experience and traditional aesthetic experience, exposing the perceptual fault lines and ideologies buried behind poetic appearances.

He has won the third "Hyundai Blue Prize of the Year Art Award" of the Hyundai Motorstudio Beijing in 2019, was shortlisted for the Emerging Curators Project of Power Station of Art in 2017, and served as the co-curator of the fifth Pulsasir Prize. His currently solo exhibitions and personal projects include: Sky-writing, Simulated Space, Beijing（2021）; Me memes, LANIAKEA, Shenzhen (2021); Second Nature, SHU GALLERY, Shenzhen (2021); West Lake without Perlo, Sanshang Contemporary Art Museum, Hangzhou (2020); Sunset Notes, YELL Space, Shanghai (2019); Golden green charm in spring, Cipa Gallery, Beijing (2018); The Worlds End Association, Modea Contemporary Art Space, Xiamen (2018); The Nightmare of Hiroshi Sugimoto, 55 Gallery, Shanghai (2017); Where There Is No Bamboo and Cypress, Ten Art Centre, Chongqing (2015); Create a Garden, Community Art Space, Hangzhou (2014). Curated and co-curated exhibitions include: Play Society：Wolf, Lynx and Ants, Hyundai Motorstudio, Beijing (2020); Playbar Game Bar, Xiangshan Art Commune, Hangzhou (2019); Pierre Menard Institute, E Space, Shanghai (2017); Spiritual Games in the Virtual, Jiang Hong Art Museum, Hangzhou (2017); Rewriting the Encyclopedia, Sanshang Contemporary Art Museum, Hangzhou (2016); Metaphor: A Rhetoric of Pictoriality, West Lake Contemporary Art Museum, Hangzhou (2015).

He also writes and runs art platforms to find ways to act beyond exhibitions. His essays and art reviews have appeared in journals and independent publications such as Enclave, Soft and Art Contemporary, as well as online platforms. Through sharing, curating, publishing and selling, it aims to form a different kind of ecology and channel.