Press the button by Leung Chi Wo Studio

请按钮：瞻前顾后 ……

Press the Button

梁志和

Leung Chi Wo

OCAT Shenzhen, 2015

目录 CONTENTS

前言卢迎华

Preface Carol Yinghua Lu

不尽及记忆的描述 — 关于梁志和的创作

卢迎华 19

Words about Memories but Not Exactly: On Leung Chi Wo’s Artistic Practice Carol Yinghua Lu

暧昧的语言梁志和对话卢迎华

The Obscure Language Leung Chi Wo in conversation with Carol Yinghua Lu

翻译的剩余 ─ 短评梁志和深圳

OCAT 个展「请按钮……瞻前顾后」

梁宝山 75

The Residue of Translation: a review of Press the Button – Leung Chi Wo:

a survey exhibition at Shenzhen OCAT Anthony Leung Po-shan

作者简介 Contributors

梁志和作品作品说明：梁志和、瞿畅 Works by Leung Chi Wo Text on works: Leung Chi Wo and Qu Chang

前言

这本书源自 2015 年 4 月 25 日至 6 月 30 日在 OCAT 深圳馆举办的梁志和个展“请按钮：瞻前顾后……”。这个展览是艺术家在大陆举办的首个个展，也是他第一个事业中期的回顾性展览。在展览之后，艺术家用了两个多月的时间为此次展览中呈现（和本要展出却最终没有呈现）的作品逐一绘制了“肖像”。这

53 幅用勾线笔绘制的“肖像”将与作品的文字描述一起，呈现在这本书中，成为这本书的主体。也使这本书成为展览之外的又一个创作之物。

在这次展览中，由于一些不可控的因素，部分作品未能在展厅中出现。展览从一开始就为这些作品预留了位置，也将它们纳入展览叙事的一部分，并一直在为它们能够及时到达展场而进行各方面的努力。开展前梁志和在这些作品空缺的位置上用黑色胶带一一做了标记，提示一种等待它们到位的状态，却没有想到直至展览结束，这些作品也始终无法按计划顺利归位。

在这本出版物中，所有作品的图片和展览现场的图片的缺席却是艺术家的有意之举。在场的是有关这些作品的文字说明，这些说明采用的是标准的展签和作品介绍的体例，阐述了作品的创作动机、概念和手法。伴随这些作品说明的并不是作品的图片，而是艺术家用黑色勾线笔在 A4 纸上逐一绘制的图像和写下的

文字。这些图像和文字有的似乎是作品的补充说明，但更多的是继续联想和发挥，和再次表达。在我看来，这些图像和文字可以让人想到中国古代书画中的题跋，这种从元代以来由经手者和收藏家在画上题书诗文的艺术手段既有对于原作的某种说明，比如标注书画家的年龄、籍贯、作画时间、地点、得画人称呼、名号等，也有做题跋者“借题发挥”所创作的文章和诗词，自成一体。

显然艺术家并没有从这样的意图出发来绘制这些图像，虽然它们貌似某种“ 草图 ”，实际上是为这本书特意而作的。在梁志和看来，在这本书中，作品和展览现场图片的完全缺席呼应了展览中作品缺席的情况；与此同时，绘制这些图像也使自己得以再次思考这些创作于过去二十多年中不同阶段的作品所涉及的本质性问题，并回溯它们的观念核心。也正是在这个意义上，这本书自成一体，是一本真正意义上的艺术家书，也是艺术家对于创作生涯的一种“自我肖像”。

在这个展览和这本出版物的创作和制作过程中，我们得到了许多人的支持和帮助，特别是该书设计师陆智昌先生的耐心与智慧，以及 OCAT 团队对于这个项目的深入参与，在此致谢。我很荣幸在结束 OCAT 深圳任职三年的最后一个项目能与梁志和先生共同工作，在这个过程中深受启发，是他的长期的实践促成了这一成果，向他表示敬意，并深表不胜感谢之意。

卢迎华

2015 年 11 月 20 日

Preface

The present volume was born out of the exhibition “Press the Button…Leung Chi Wo: a survey exhibition,” held at OCAT Shenzhen from April 25th to Jun 30th, 2015. It was the first solo exhibition the artist Leung Chi Wo had held in Mainland China, and his first mid-career survey exhibition. After the exhibition, Leung spent two months drawing “portraits” for each of the works shown at the exhibition, including the ones that did not make it to the venue as planned. In this volume, you will find 53 “portraits” drawn in pen. Together with the textual descriptions of the exhibited artworks, they constitute the main body of this book. In this sense, the book becomes another creative product of this project, in addition to the exhibition itself.

During the exhibition, several artworks could not be displayed, due to some uncontrollable factors. Seats had already been reserved for these works, which were to be incorporated as part of the exhibition’s narrative, from the outset of the exhibition; efforts were made from all sides to ensure their timely arrival, but to no avail. Before the opening, Leung had left tags at the vacant spots reserved for these works; none, however, made it to their assigned place.

On the other hand, this publication’s lack of images of the exhibited artworks or views of their installations at the exhibition is intended by the artist. Presented here are textual descriptions of the artworks, laid out in the standard format of exhibition captions, which are used to clarify the intentions, concepts, and techniques behind the creation of artworks. However, accompanying these artworks’ descriptions in this volume are not photos of these artworks, but images and texts the artist drew on A4-sized papers with a black outline pen. While some of these images and texts seem to be additional remarks on the works, the majority of them represent the artist’s continued imagining, further development, and re-interpretation of the artworks. From my perspective, these images and texts call to mind prefaces and postscripts to ancient Chinese paintings. Originally fashioned by art dealers and collectors in Yuan Dynasty, the practice of leaving postscripts on paintings gradually evolved into an artistic tactic that is sometimes employed to help illustrate the original work— for instance, the annotation of the age and place of origin of the artist, the time and place of its production, the name and title of the current owner, etc.; at other times, these prefaces and postscripts are actually creative writings or poems by commentators inspired by the artworks — in these cases, these inscriptions certainly command a life of their own.

Admittedly, Leung did not draw these images with this intention in mind. Although they seem like simple sketches, these were in fact created especially for this publication. For him, the total absence in this book of any images depicting the pieces and their installations corresponds with the absences of those works at the exhibition. Moreover, the drawing process provided him with an opportunity to reconsider the essential issues that were originally dealt with in these works, which he created during different stages over the

past twenty-something years, and to gaze back into their conceptual cores. It is precisely by this reasoning we may note that this book also has a life of its own—an artist book in the truest sense of that term, and a “self-portrait” of the artist’s professional career.

Throughout the creative and productive processes of the exhibition and this publication, we received generous support from a great number of people. I would like to give particular thanks to Mr. Luk Chi Cheong, the designer of this publication, for his patience and wisdom, and to the entire team behind OCAT for their diligent involvement in this project. It has been my great honour to work with Leung Chi Wo on this last project of my three-year tenure at OCAT Shenzhen: our collaboration left me profoundly inspired, as an achievement that rests on nothing but Leung’s long-term artistic practice. It is for Leung that I reserve my highest respect, and I will always remain grateful for his teaching.

Carol Yinghua Lu Nov 20, 2015

不尽及记忆的描述

— 关于梁志和的创作

卢迎华

和梁志和一样，我曾在一段时间里往返于自己的居住地和深圳之间。但这一点不足以促使我要策划一个关于梁志和的展览。尽管对于梁志和而言， 1973 年随母亲从香港过关，到宝安县人民医院（深圳人民医院前身）看鼻窦炎的经历，却构成他于 2015 年创作的新作《我的深圳矿藏 1973 》的起点。在这件作品中，艺术家将当时的病历放大，覆盖着病历的有机玻璃上篆刻着从罗湖关口至人民医院的路线地图。同时，墙面里上安装了一个圆形的金属片，其中央镶嵌着一枚刻有 1973 年年份的一分钱硬币，硬币周围以篆刻的形式出现英文单词 “ MINE ”（在英文中，“ MINE ” 既指“ 我的 ”，也指“ 矿井 ”）以及“ 请按钮 ” 的中英文文字提示：观众用手指紧摁硬币，就能启动空间中的风扇，风扇的风吹起悬挂在投影机镜头前的一张《人民画报》英文版封面，封面上刊登的是一张矿工的照片。当这张图片被吹起时，艺术家新近拍摄的从罗湖关口至人民医院沿途天空的录像被投影在墙面上。一旦观众把手松开，风扇立即停止运行，

文章题目来自梁志和的作品题目《无题（不尽及记忆的描述）》，这个作品通过对香港艺术界人士的访问和他们的描述来钩沉起过去十年在香港艺术领域中不再活跃并逐渐被遗忘的创作者们。

《人民画报》封面落下，覆盖住投影，图像中矿工头顶的探照灯正好与投影仪的光源重合，透射出其中的光线，仿佛仍在开启中的状态。艺术家在内部安装投影仪的白色雕塑台上将一本出版于 1973 年江西省小学《美术》课本放在一个木制的斜面上，用來搧風吹起画报封面。在这件作品中，梁志和讲述了自己小学时期看病的一个经历，借助语言的双关和一些细微的参照物，像做“连连看” 一样，仅用“寥寥几笔”，就勾勒出一个历史年代的局部样貌，为观众搭建一些进入其中的小通道。梁志和善于将个人的故事转化为一个讲述地方、集体，甚至是意识形态变迁的载体；同时，那些有关地域的、政治的、历史的理解和想象也总能在梁志和的作品中寻找到个体的化身。

在三年往返深圳并在深圳开展工作的过程中，我经历了从期待深圳与香港之间的近距离带来某种艺术界里天然的亲近感，到惊讶于这种亲近感的缺失，到觉得不得不为填补这种缺失做点什么的转变。虽然深圳与香港之间已经开通了数个关口，但是通过关口的人流从来没有因此而减少，通过关口的时间也没有因此而缩短。在艺术领域里，香港与深圳之间的交往和对话并没有因为地理上的亲近、行政手续的简化和交通的便利而变得频繁和熟稔。这种隔阂有着更深远的历史渊源和意义。对于许多中国人， 1949 年前后是否搬迁香港还是留在大陆决定了今后命运和思想轨迹的迥异。香港的关口不只是一道物理的屏障，更是一种身份的、文化的、思想的和心理的阻隔。数十年以来，香港与深圳的经济往来从未间断，但文化、艺术和思想层面的交流和沟通甚少，彼此的兴致也不大。经济活动占据了人们主要的注意力，也满足了彼此一定的需求，人们似乎都乐于回避任何超越于此的更深层互动。

近十多年来大陆的经济发展和国人的自信使得香港不再只是一个被观摩和向往的目的地，而是大陆人可以以消费的方式占有的一个地点。在这种新的情境之下，香港的历史和它所特有的质感似乎更加显得可有可无。大陆人到香港进行的各种消费，从日常用品到奢侈品到房地产到服务，虽然在一定意义上改变着

这个城市的基因，既带来收入从而产生某种依赖，也形成了各种挤压。更重要的是，如果说大陆曾经对于香港与内地不同的制度和文化产生过某种兴趣的话，今天这种兴趣和好奇随着自身的膨胀已经变得非常稀薄。近期大陆与香港逐渐升级的政治冲突使彼此深藏已久的不信任感变得透明和不可回避。

不可否认的是，我们对于香港艺术家和艺术界的认识并没有比我们对于欧洲或美国的艺术界了解深入多少，也并没有因为分享同一种文化血缘而能产生更多的认同。在很大程度上，香港仍然是一个“外国”，而香港艺术家也一直是大陆艺术界眼中的“ 外国艺术家 ”。这种陌生感在今天伴随更多的冷漠而与日俱增。香港在近期与大陆之间逐渐升级的政治冲突之中被愈加边缘化，大陆政治话语的强势和民众情绪的粗暴与香港官僚的软弱形成了一种巨大的压力和失落感，弥漫于香港社会。

近年来，在艺术领域里，随着国际艺博会的开办，大量中国资本和外国资本进驻香港，设立分支办公室和空间，似乎使香港逐渐成为一个全世界注意力投射和谈论的艺术目的地之一。但这些改变只是使更多的大陆艺术家和国际艺术明星在香港获得展示的机会，涌入香港的国际艺术游客和专业人士也大多冲着大陆艺术家而来。而香港本土艺术家和实践者本来就在很狭小的空间里开展工作的现实并未因此产生改变。在此种新的历史条件之下，香港艺术家的工作变得似乎更加不可视，我们也因此无从了解香港艺术实践的现状和历史，更无法分享其背后的思想资源和方法论。

虽然在此次合作之前与梁志和素未谋面，但他可能是自 2000 年以来在大陆参展较多的香港艺术家之一，他的创作对于我们也并不完全陌生，他曾参加过上海双年展和广州三年展，在大陆较为人所知的作品应该属《家居隐事系列》（ 2004 — 2007 年），这些拍摄香港普通家庭中将各种家具下方和房间的边边角角等非储物空间填满杂物的图片，巧妙地肖像了香港的市民生活里真实的处境。

这些图片的尺寸为 120 x 150 厘米，几乎与它们所记录的现实场景等大，采用一种平视的角度进行拍摄。在 80 多家梁志和所访问的家庭中，有一些是他熟悉的朋友，包括艺术行业的从业者；有一些则是陌生人。通过对他们进行访谈 — 这些访谈并没有伴随着图片公开— 它们使艺术家与他所考察和拍摄的对象产生了更具体的链接。即使是一种对家居空间使用的视觉档案似的记录，梁志和珍视的是人的在场。虽然人物没有直接出现在照片之中，但艺术家始终视之为要素。围绕这些图片背后的工作，即使它们没有被作为作品的一部分被呈现出来，却使他的作品具有一种人类学的视角和意趣：将个人放置于区域、社会、文化和政治环境的互动之间来进行观看，而没有将个体假设为完全被外在环境和物理条件所塑造的一种类别。

梁志和在我们第一次见面中耐心地为我讲解他的每一件作品，就如同他耐心地创作他的每一件作品一样，使我们不得不重新考量时间的投入在创作中可能催生的美学。如果我们把“ 蹲点 ” 解释为向一个考察的对象投以长时间的关注的话，那么“蹲点”必然被视为梁志和创作中重要的方法之一，或者更确切地说，身体力行地进入考察的课题或对象的情境之中，潜心细致地观察、揣摩，有机地摸索出一个个贴切的描述方式。梁志和的作品同时充满了细腻的情感，以及对语言的玩味，多层次地对他所叙及的对象进行想像、描述和创作。深入地接触他的创作使我发现，他二十多年来的实践可能呈现出一幅由各个角度、各种联系、各个方面相互错综交织起来的生动画面。

在 OCAT 深圳的个人回顾展览不仅是梁志和在大陆的首个个展，也是艺术家本人从艺生涯的第一个回顾展。我与梁志和的共识是这个展览将试图呈现他多重的、交错的工作方法，而不是作品的罗列。在这种考虑的前提下，时间和媒介无法成为展览编织的依据。多次讨论的结果使我们选择在展览中以 31 組作品来编织艺术家创作中纵横交错的指涉，其中包含了“ 城市与神话 ”、“ 主观记忆 ”、 “不确定性的文字和语言”、“我的小小艺术界”和“空间的视角”五个主题。在

展览中，这些主题并没有以任何形式被明确地标识出来，像潜流一样穿流于艺术家创作的地表之下，同一件创作往往同时触及多个主题。我们很快意识到，以创作媒介或主旨来归纳艺术家的创作只是徒劳。而最贴切的方式莫过于同样耐心地了解作品的源头以及创作的经过，包括创作者的个人经历。

在装展期间，我与梁志和在他的作品《亚洲国际都会》前进行了一次广东话的对话。这面贴了印满标语的蓝色墙纸再现了 2008 年梁志和创作的一件公共作品。艺术家在网上向人们征集对“ 亚洲国际都会 ” 的愿景与想象 — 这一称谓来自香港市政府于 2003 年推出城市宣传标语的举措，然而这一表达的模糊性使得“ 亚洲国际都会 ” 对香港的特指并不成立。梁志和所征集到的这些愿望有时是具体的、针对香港城市的需求，有的则是抽象的、关于“亚洲”的想象的。艺术家在征集到的几百个回应中挑选出 12 个未实现的愿望，将它们转述为否定描述与“ 亚洲国际都会 ” 的标语一起挂在从荷里活道到中环的一路。由于香港法律规定在公共空间悬挂“横幅”需经过政府许可。 12 幅梁志和挂出的“横幅” 中只有一幅没有被没收，挂在此次展览展厅外面的公共空间。

毕业于香港中文大学艺术系的梁志和在早期有限的从业生涯中曾在亚洲电视台和三联书店工作过。他“ 在香港的三联书店做助理编辑，我觉得这份工作对我现在还有不少的影响。那是 1992 年到 1995 年，总共是两年半，正好在香港回归之前，在出版界或整个文化界里面，都有很大的期望去重新认识香港，包括香港文化和香港历史。我的成长是接受殖民地教育的，在我们中小学课程里面，我们没有学习过香港的历史，也不认识香港文化艺术。所以在三联这两年半好像是一个再教育的机会，我的同事里面全部都有很高的水平，三联的编辑很厉害的，每个人都是博士，我在他们身上学了很多关于香港的东西 — 工作得很开心，真的很喜欢这份工作。” 2 无疑，在二十多年的创作中，香港不断地成为艺

2 “暧昧的语言：梁志和对话卢迎华”，未发表， 2015 。

术家描摹的对象，其历史和现状是艺术家不断从中挖掘创作线索的源泉。 90 年代初期，梁志和从意大利师从针孔摄影家保罗 · 吉奥利（ Paolo Gioli ）学习摄影后回到香港，尝试模仿 19 世纪旅行摄影家的方式，以游览者的角度，用针孔摄影的方式记录香港的城市景观。这些摄影作品将目光投向香港的建筑。 20 余年后的今天，这些摄影中的许多地方已不复存在。梁志和拍摄这些照片所使用的是一台需要 20 分钟至两小时曝光时间的摄像装置“梁氏针孔相机”，这台相机既没有镜头也没有取景框，使用它进行拍摄时艺术家既不能准确预测拍摄效果，也无法进行任何干预，只有在等待曝光的漫长时间中，拍摄者有机会长时间地面对和注视其所拍摄的对象。

2006 年，梁志和参观于 2005 年关闭的香港域多利监狱，并在监狱内进行了拍摄。空无一人的监狱所呈现的怪异氛围，与监狱中的种种设置（有米奇老鼠卡通形象的监狱幼儿园、监狱餐厅中的开放式吸烟空间及厕所等等）共同构成了一种不可名状的荒谬感。梁志和将作品命名为《维多利亚的囹圄》（ Prison of

Victoria ）而非监狱的本名“ 域多利监狱 ”（ Victoria Prison ），以转化语言的方式指涉香港的殖民历史。建造于 1841 年的维多利亚监狱据称是第一座在香港建成的西方建筑，来到一块陌生的土地的殖民者们首先盖起的是一座监狱。

在香港，殖民地的背景使语言的运用与身份意识的亲密感尤为突出，也成为梁志和创作的主要出发点之一。他的许多作品中直指语言特别是命名的文化背后的意识形态渊源和动机，并迂回地对于其中的复杂性加以描述。 2000 年后梁志和曾数次受邀在大陆参加群展。他发现，在内地的展览中，他的名字往往被按照拼音规则写作为“ Liang Zhihe ”，而非他的英文名，按照广东话发音的 “ Leung Chi Wo ”。 2007 年，香港回归十周年时，他在自己工作室屋顶拍摄了六张仰视天空的照片（《梁志和的天空》），并在每张照片上用钢笔签上他的名字的普通话拼音“ Liang Zhihe ”，而非“ Leung Chi Wo ”。在大陆以外，很少有人能认知出“ Liang Zhihe ” 就是他，而似乎是另外一位艺术家。同一个名

字由于文化语境的转换而出现的拼写差异竟意味着认知上如此大的差异，那么在更大范围内的文化和政治语境的变换是否会带来更大的震荡和遗忘？梁志和应该是有先知先觉的忧虑的。

梁志和在创作中反思历史记载的简单化以及由此所引起的认知的偏差。创作于

2010 年的《只有时间能够证明》是一组灯箱作品，照片是香港前立法会大楼上的枪眼的近照，而有机玻璃上蚀刻的英文文字援引自 1984 年香港立法会会议上，前国家安全顾问兹比格涅夫 · 布热津斯基（ Zbigniew Brzezinski ）对吉米 · 卡特（ Jimmy Carter ）就一国两制政策发表的评论“只有时间能够证明”。这件作品来自“ 我们必须构建以及毁灭 ” 系列，该系列包括摄影装置，灯箱，印刷物以及雕塑。这一系列作品以前立法会大楼上修补过的枪眼作为提问的起点。这些枪眼被认为是第二次世界大战时战火弥漫至香港期间的产物；当日本占领了港岛，整座建筑成为驻香港宪兵队的基地。但实际上并没有记录表明哪方应该为这上百个枪眼负责。历史上，它们只是被简单地记载为“ 敌方枪火 ”。在此情况下，一座时刻变换着权力与发生斗争的地标，“敌方”的身份是未知且无法定义的。

梁志和自身的实践同时深深地植根于香港艺术界、艺术政治和艺术历史之中。对于香港艺术社区的人和事，梁志和既是见证者，也是亲历者，并在不同时期通过自己的创作记录和评述着这个社区里的人与事。 2005 年夏天，梁志和被非正式邀请为香港双年展评审之一。不过他没有接受这一邀请，而是借助这个契机对规则与创作之间的权力关系进行思考，创作了《 HKABE2005 》。他将双年展的《参赛细则》英文版进行倒序重写，更新了分段、分句和标点，将之转换为难以读懂的文本，其发音与形态类似某种欧洲语言，或是被拉丁化了的亚洲、太平洋方言，这件作品曾经以表演的形式呈现，也被篆刻在 16 块木板之上。这一文本成为梁志和作为“ 评审员 ” 的致辞和评语，同时也是他作为“ 艺术家 ” 的作品。在近期的作品《无题（不尽及记忆的描述）》中，梁志和与艺术学院的

学生用六个月的时间整理出所有出现在香港艺术史中的艺术家名字，通过网络搜索的形式过滤出过去十年里没有任何创作痕迹的名字组成了一个艺术家名单。他邀请七位经历过那个时代的艺术家、策展人来回忆名单上的艺术家。

梁志和于 90 年代初期参与创立 Para/Site 空间，初创团队中还有他的妻子，景观设计师和艺术家黄志恒。除了共同创立 Para/Site 之外，他们多次合作创作，包括《 CC 办公桌》、《城市曲奇》等作品。最近几年来，他们共同致力于《遗失博物馆》的创作，像考古学家一样从新闻图片开始，通过查阅各种文献、档案，以及发挥个人的想象，孜孜不倦地追溯图片中的人和事，直到所有的线索都中断为止，并以摆拍的方式拍摄出他们所侦查的事件中的人物形象的背影。

一种对于历史书写以及普遍认知的强烈的不信任感和危机感推动着梁志和近年来的这些创作。在深圳的展览中，因为某些客观，而根本上也是人为的原因，部分参展作品未能在开展前和期间被运到展场，始终在展览中缺席。在一定程度上，这个作品缺席的事件几乎是现实的某种写照，提示着跨越深圳与香港这一线之隔的挑战。在这个合作展览的过程中，梁志和始终尽量用他并不流利的普通话来与我们的团队进行沟通；而我也试图用我蹩脚的广东话在开展前与他进行对话，使他可以用他的母语来深入地讨论和分享他的创作和经历。虽然无法达到最流畅的沟通，但我们彼此都带着一种开放的心态来进入彼此的情境，保持着“无法定义”下最宽阔的可能前景。

Words about Memories but Not Exactly —On Leung Chi Wo’s Artistic Practice 1

Carol Yinghua Lu

Like Leung Chi Wo, I once spent some time commuting back and forth between my place of residence and Shenzhen. However, that would not have been enough to entice me to curate an exhibition about Leung’s work. Meanwhile, for Leung, his experience of crossing the border with his mother, traveling from Hong Kong to the People’s Hospital in Bao’an County (now Shenzhen People’s Hospital) to have his sinusitis diagnosed, eventually became the starting point from which he created his latest work, Shenzhen Mine 1973, in 2015. For this work, the artist enlarges his old medical record card and covers it with plexiglass, on which he carves a map of the route from Lo Wu Control Point to the People’s Hospital. In the meantime, an aluminium disk is installed on the wall, its centre inlaid with a one fen coin engraved with the year 1973,

The title of this essay is taken from Leung’s Untitled (Words about Memories but Not Exactly), a work that calls to mind those creative practitioners who ceased their activities in Hong Kong’s art world over the past ten years and were thus gradually forgotten, through interviews with those still active, and with their reflections.

around which he inscribes the English word “MINE” and the suggestion “PRESS THE BUTTON,” rendered in both Chinese and English through the technique of seal cutting: by pressing the coin with a finger, the audience can activate a fan located within the space, which blows wind into the cover of an English copy of China Pictorial that bears a photograph of a mine worker. As the wind lifts the picture, it reveals a video of the sky, projected on the wall, which the artist captured on his journey from Lo Wu Control Point to the People’s Hospital. Once the participant releases his or her finger, the fan immediately stops, and the magazine cover falls back down, covering the projection: the searchlight on the miner’s head in the picture can now be seen to overlap precisely with the light emitted from the projector, illuminating the searchlight as if it were still working. On the white podium upon which the projector is installed, the artist places a Jiangxi elementary school arts textbook published in 1973, set on a wooden ramp so that the wind can blow into the cover. In this work, Leung Chi Wo makes use of verbal puns and objects that are subtle references, as if playing a game of picture matching. In only a few brief gestures, he manages to map the particular context of a historical era, and builds several small channels that allow the audience to enter. Leung is adept at translating his own stories into mediums through which changes in a place, a community, or even an ideology are told; meanwhile, any interpretation or imagination of geography, politics, and history he undertakes to express is always reincarnated in the form of the individual in his work.

During my three years of traveling back and forth between home and Shenzhen, working in the latter, my attitude towards the relationship between Shenzhen and Hong Kong went through several stages of transformation: from expecting their geographical proximity to manifest as some kind of

innate affinity in the art world, to being shocked by the absence of such an affinity, and finally to feeling that I had to do something to fill this lack. Even though a number of checkpoints have opened up between Shenzhen and Hong Kong, the number of people crossing at each of these checkpoints has not decreased in result, nor has the amount of time it takes to pass through them. In the field of art, exchange and dialogue between Hong Kong and Shenzhen have not become more frequent and familiar because of their geographical proximity, simplified administrative procedures, and easier means of transportation. Meanwhile, the historical origin and meaning of this difference is even more profound. For many Chinese, their decisions regarding whether to move to Hong Kong or to stay in the mainland around the year of 1949 determined the differences in their fates and the later trajectories of their thought. Hong Kong’s border is not just a physical obstacle—it is also a kind of cultural, ideological, and psychological barrier, and one of identity. For decades, the economic ties between Hong Kong and Shenzhen have never waned, yet there has been little exchange and communication in the cultural, artistic, or ideological fields, and neither of the two is really interested in the other. Economic activities have seized most of their citizens’ attention, for these certainly fulfill some of the needs of each side, and people seem happy to avoid any interaction beyond this level.

As a result of Mainland’s economic development and the growing confidence of mainlanders over the past decade, Hong Kong is no longer a mere destination to be revered or desired, but one that mainlanders are able to occupy through consumption. In this new context, Hong Kong’s history and unique texture seem more dispensable than ever. While mainlanders’ consumption of a variety of goods in Hong Kong—from daily products and

luxury goods to real estate and service—is in a sense transforming the genes of the city by providing income and thereby producing a certain dependence, it has also bred various forms of exclusion. More importantly, even if it was once the case that mainlanders were interested in Hong Kong’s distinct system and culture, one way or another, this interest and curiosity has grown terribly weak as a result of their bloating ego. Recently, the escalating political conflict between the mainland and Hong Kong has uncovered their long-hidden mutual distrust, rendering it both transparent and inescapable.

Admittedly, our understanding of the artists and art scene of Hong Kong is no deeper than our understanding of the European or American art worlds, nor did our shared cultural lineage generate any mutual approval. In large part, Hong Kong remains a “foreign land,” while Hongkong artists are still considered “foreign artists” in the eyes of the mainland art world. Bolstered by today’s rampant apathy, this alienation only keeps growing. Recently, Hong Kong has been marginalized even further, as conflict with the mainland continues to escalate. The contrast between the aggressiveness of the political discourse in Mainland, and the sheer rudeness of its people, on the one hand—and the weakness of Hong Kong’s bureaucrats, on the other—have generated tremendous pressures and a sense of loss that permeates Hong Kong’s society.

In recent years, prompted by frequent iterations of international art fairs, a large amount of Chinese and foreign capital has been flowing into Hong Kong to set up satellite offices and spaces, which seem to be gradually transforming Hong Kong into one of the art-hubs on which the entire world sets its focus. However, these changes only allow for more and more mainland artists and

international artist-celebrities to exhibit in Hong Kong, and this influx of international art-tourists and industry professionals is mostly due to mainland artists. Meanwhile, the reality that local Hongkong artists and practitioners are already working in extremely narrow spaces has not changed because of these new arrivals. In this new historical situation, it seems the work of Hongkong artists has become even more invisible, and we are thus no longer in a position to investigate the state and history of artistic practices in Hong Kong, let alone to learn from the sources and methodologies behind its thinking.

Although I had never met Leung Chi Wo prior to this collaboration, his work is not entirely unfamiliar to me, for he is presumably one of the few Hongkong artists whose works have been shown in the mainland rather frequently, and he has previously participated in major exhibitions including the Shanghai Biennale and the Guangzhou Triennial. The work he is best known for among mainland audiences must be “Domestica Invisible” Series (2004-2007), comprised of images he captured of not-for-storage spaces—underneath furniture items, in the corners of a room, etc.—being filled with miscellaneous objects in common Hong Kong households that subtly portrays the real living conditions of Hong Kong citizens. These images come in 120 x 150 cm— almost the same size as the real scenes they document—and were shot from eye-level. Of the more than 80 households Leung visited, some were those of his close friends, including art practitioners, while others were strangers to him. Conducting interviews with them (these interviews were not disclosed to the public along with the images) allowed the artist to form more concrete connections with the subjects he was investigating and photographing. While the series is indeed a visual archival record of the use of household spaces, what Leung really values is their human presence—the artist considers human

figures to be the key component of these photographs, though they are not literally depicted in the photos. The effort that went into the making of these images, though not presented as part of the work, still imbues them with an anthropological perspective and interest: it places the individual within a framework of interacting regional, social, cultural and political contexts, instead of postulating the individual as a category that is entirely formed by external environment and material conditions.

At our first meeting, Leung Chi Wo explained each of his works to me with the same great patience that he applies to their creation, and which prompts us to reconsider the aesthetic potentially embedded in his works through the investment of time. If we interpret “crouching” ( 蹲点 ) as the act of paying lengthy concern to a subject of investigation, then “crouching” must be considered as one of the fundamental methods underlying Leung’s creative practice—more precisely, it involves personally entering the situation of a topic or subject of investigation and organically working out suitable ways to depict it through meticulous observation and reflection. Meanwhile, Leung’s work effuses subtle emotion, wordplay, and multilayered imagination, depiction, and elaboration of the subjects he describes. Through in-depth contact with his work, I have discovered a vivid picture composed of the various interwoven angles, connections, and aspects of his last twenty years of practice.

This survey exhibition, held at OCAT Shenzhen, is not only Leung’s first mainland solo exhibition, but also the first survey exhibition in his career as an artist. I reached an agreement with Leung to attempt an exhibition that, instead of merely displaying his artworks, would showcase his multilayered and interlaced working methods. Under such a premise, neither time nor

medium can be the basis for the exhibition’s curation. After many rounds of discussion, we decided to weave together the criss-crossing references of his body of work with 31 sets of works, divided into five themes: “City and its myth”, “Subjective memory”, “Text and language of uncertainty”, “My small art world”, and “Perceptive space.” These themes were not explicitly labeled in any form throughout the exhibition, but flow beneath the surface of his works like an undercurrent, with each of the works often simultaneously touching on several of the themes. We soon realized that any attempt to sort out the artist’s works by medium of production or discrete category was futile. Instead, the most appropriate method involves nothing more than understanding the origin of these works and the process of their creation, including the personal experiences of their creator, with the same patience he put into making them.

During the installation process, I had a conversation in Cantonese with Leung Chi Wo in front of his piece Asia’s World City. This public art project, which Leung created in 2008, was re-enacted on a wall papered in blue, on which an eyeful of slogans were printed. Leung solicited people’s ideas and imaginings about the future of “Asia’s world city” online—this title was a product of Hong Kong government initiative to launch promotional slogans for the city in 2003; however, the ambiguity of this expression left the title’s specific reference to Hong Kong invalid. Of the wishes Leung collected, some referred to specific needs for Hong Kong, while others were abstract musings about “Asia.” The artist handpicked twelve unaccomplished wishes from the several hundred responses he collected, rewrote them in a negative tone, and hung them as Asia’s World City banners along Hollywood Road in Central. According to Hong Kong law, any “banner” must be approved by the government before it is

placed in a public space. As a result, all twelve “banners” that Leung hung in public were confiscated, except for one, which was displayed outside the hall during the exhibition.

Soon after graduating from the Fine Arts Department of the Chinese University of Hong Kong, Leung Chi Wo spent a short time with Asia Television and Joint Publishing (HK). Regarding this period, Leung says: “From 1992 to 1995, in the two and a half years of the job, just before Hong Kong’s return to China, there was a very strong desire to get to know Hong Kong again – especially its history and culture. Growing up, I had received a colonial education and we never studied Hong Kong’s history in our primary and secondary school curriculum; neither did we know much about its culture. So my two and a half years at Joint Publishing provided me with an opportunity for re-education. All my colleagues were highly qualified – Joint Publishing editors were very smart, they all had doctorates. I learnt a lot about Hong Kong working with them and I was very happy with my job. Had I not left, I would probably still be working there.” 2

It is apparent that during his twenty years of practice, Hong Kong has repeatedly returned as the main subject of the artist’s portrayal, and its history and current state are sources wherein the artist discovers endless threads to weave together his myriad practice. In the early 90s, Leung Chi Wo returned to Hong Kong after studying photography in Italy under the tutelage of Italian pinhole photographer Paolo Gioli; imitating the creative

“The Obscure Language: Leung Chi Wo in Conversation with Carol Yinghua Lu,” yet to be published, 2015.

methods of 19th century travelling photographers, he began to record the cityscape of Hong Kong with pinhole photographs taken from the point of view of a tourist, focusing on Hong Kong architecture. Today, twenty years later, many of the places recorded in these photographs no longer exist. The camera Leung used to shoot these photos is “Leung’s pinhole camera”—a photographic device whose exposure time ranges from twenty minutes to two hours. Since this camera has no lens or frame, the artist can neither estimate the result of a shot with accuracy, nor carry out any intervention; however, during the lengthy period of waiting for the exposure process to end, the photographer has the opportunity to face and watch the photographed subject for a long while.

In 2006, Leung Chi Wo visited Hong Kong’s Victoria Prison, which was decommissioned in 2005, and shot photographs inside the building. The uncanny atmosphere of the empty prison, together with the various facilities inside (a prison kindergarten, where you can see images of the cartoon character Mickey Mouse; the open smoking space and bathroom inside the cafeteria, etc.), evoke an indescribable sense of absurdity. By naming this series Prison of Victoria, rather than using the institution’s actual name, Victoria Prison, Leung uses a conversion of language to make reference to Hong Kong’s colonial history. Built in 1841, Victoria Prison was allegedly the first Western building erected in Hong Kong—the first thing the colonists built, upon arriving in a strange land: a prison.

In Hong Kong, the intimate relationship between the use of language and the awareness of identity is particularly prominent against the backdrop of the city’s colonial past, and this intimacy also constitutes one of the points

of departure in Leung’s artistic practice. Many of his works point directly to language, and especially to the origins and motives underlying the ideologies behind cultures of naming, depicting their complexity in indirect and subtle ways. In 2000, when Leung was invited to participate in several group exhibitions in the mainland, he discovered that his name was often written as “Liang Zhihe” in accordance with the rules of pinyin, instead of as his English name, “Leung Chi Wo,” which is spelled according to its pronunciation in Cantonese. In 2007, on the tenth anniversary of the return of Hong Kong, the artist looked up into the sky from the rooftop of his studio and took six photos (Sky by Liang Zhihe), signing his name with a pen on each of the photos in pinyin, as “Liang Zhihe” rather than “Leung Chi Wo.” Outside the mainland, most people did not realize that “Liang Zhihe” was actually the same person as Leung Chi Wo; it seemed to them the name of another artist. Since differences in the spelling of a single name, resulting from the translation of linguistic and cultural contexts, can actually indicate steep cognitive disparities, does the translation of cultural and political contexts on a greater scale lead to even greater shock and oblivion? Leung must have had some foresight of these concerns.

In his work, Leung Chi Wo reflects on the oversimplification of historical records and the perceptual deviations it produces. Created in 2010, Only time can tell is a light installation work. The photos included in this piece are close-up shots of the bullet holes on the former Hong Kong Legislative Council (LEGCO) Building, while the English text etched on the plexiglass is a quote from Zbigniew Brzezinski, national security adviser to President Jimmy Carter at the time, who commented upon the One Country Two Systems policy, "Only time can tell”, minuted from a meeting at the Legislative Council of Hong Kong

in 1984. This work is included in “We Must Construct as Well as Destroy,” a series that consists of photography installations, lightboxes, publications, and sculpture. It takes the repaired bullet holes on the former LEGCO building as the starting point of its investigation. These bullet holes are known as products of World War II, whose flames seeped into Hong Kong; during the Japanese Occupation, the entire building became a base for Hong Kong’s gendarmerie. However, no record clearly indicates what party was responsible for these hundreds of bullet holes. Historically, they were simply ascribed to “enemy fire.” In this instance—a site of shifting power and conflict—the “enemy” remains anonymous and indefinite.

Leung’s practice is deeply rooted in Hong Kong’s art community, art politics, and art history. He is both a witness to the people and affairs in this community and a member thereof, who personally experienced its transformations while recording and commenting on them through his creations at different times. In early summer of 2005, Leung was informally invited to be one of the jurors for the Hong Kong Art Biennial Exhibition; however, he did not accept the offer. Instead, prompted by the occasion, he reflected upon the power relation between rules and artistic creation, producing the work HKABE2005. He reproduced the English text of the Biennial’s Terms and Conditions in reverse, with rearranged paragraphs, sentences, and punctuation, converting it into an opaque text with pronunciation and morphology reminiscent of some obscure European language, or a Romanized Asian or Pacific language. This work was first presented as a performance, and was also inscribed on sixteen pieces of wood. The text constituted Leung’s address and remarks in his capacity as a “juror.” In his more recent work, Untitled (Words about Memory but Not Exactly), Leung spent six months with students at an art academy, compiling

the names of all the artists who have been written into the art history of Hong Kong, filtering out all but those who havenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t left any visible trace in the past ten years, with the help of online search engines. He then invited seven artists and curators who lived through that era to recall the artists on the list.

In the early 90s, Leung co-founded the Para/Site Art Space with his wife, landscape designer and artist Sara Wong, together with a few other artists. Besides co-founding the space, they also collaborated on a variety of other projects, producing works such as CC Bureau, City Cookie, etc. In the last few years, they have committed themselves to the project, Museum of The Lost: taking newspaper photos as their points of departure, like archaeologists, they consult various documents and archives, appeal to personal imagination, and tirelessly retrace the history of the persons and events in the photos until all leads have been exhausted, eventually capturing the backs of the human figures involved in the events they investigate in the form of snapshots.

These works that Leung has created in recent years are driven by a heightened distrust of the documentation of history and our general perceptions, and by a sense of crisis. Due to some objective yet essentially arbitrary causes, some of the exhibits were not delivered to the exhibition space prior to the opening, and remained absent throughout the exhibition. To some extent, the event of these absences is almost a realistic portrait of the challenges involved in crossing the thin border between Shenzhen and Hong Kong. Throughout the process of our collaboration on the exhibition, Leung Chi Wo tried to communicate with our team in faltering Mandarin as best he could; meanwhile, I also tried to converse with him in my stammering Cantonese, hoping that in his mother tongue he could share more thoroughly his experiences and the

thoughts behind his works. Although it was impossible to communicate as effectively as either of us would have liked, we each managed to enter the otherâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s situation with an open mind, holding the most expansive and potential promise in our visions, in a state of indefinability.

暧昧的语言：梁志和对话卢迎华

卢迎华（以下简称卢）：梁志和先生，我很荣幸与你一起为这个展览工作，通过邀请你来举办这个个人事业中期的回顾性展览来了解并让更多人看到你的工作。我们之前为了筹备该展览进行过多次的对话和交流，你与我们一起工作时大都使用普通话，并非你的母语。但鉴于你的创作中很多思考和探索与语言、语言文化和文化的身份有关，我想借此机会请你用广东话表述你的想法、工作方法以及在这个展览中所涉及的一些概念，我会通过几个问题与你展开下午的对话。首先，我想请你介绍你的背景，你是香港人？梁志和（以下简称梁）：是。

卢：出生、成长都在香港？梁：对。

卢：能否介绍一下你自己成长的经历？梁：我在香港出生，但我父母来自广东恩平。 1950 年代，乡下的经济情况很差，当时他们有一些亲戚已定居香港，为了生活，他们就决定来香港。我有三个兄弟姐妹，我们全部都在香港出生。

卢：你是第二代的移民？梁：可以这样说。但我想这有特别的含意，近年我们比较少自称为第几代移民，因为香港已出现很多土生土长的人。

卢：你如何开始进入艺术的领域？梁：也有一点点机缘巧合，我从小就喜欢画画，但在我成长的年代，香港很少人会想到当艺术家，因为在社会里是没有“ 艺术家 ” 这个岗位的，不仅仅是经济岗位，甚至连社会岗位都是没有的。因此在我快要考大学的时候，其实也没有想过要读艺术。在香港，如果年轻人、学生对美术有兴趣，他们可能会选择读设计，好一点的专业就是建筑。我自己也有相同考虑，最初是想读建筑。但我有一个很特别的成长经验，我从小是一个游泳运动员，如果你问我，在社会上有什么工作是我最想做的？（当时）我最想当的是一个成功的运动员，当然，运动员在香港的社会里也没有什么重要性。我成长于 1980 年代，在我十几岁的时候，游泳训练占据我大部分时间。香港教育竞争很激烈，要考上大学需经过两次公开考试，一般小朋友都会花很多时间去温习和准备考试。那时我想如果可以考上大学，但又不需要妨碍我的游泳训练就太好了。刚好香港中文大学推出新的录取计划，只要以中五的会考成绩就可报考，不用我们再考艰难的高等程度会考，我想这是很好的机会，但中大当时还没有建筑系，我就报了艺术系，结果学校真的录取了我。大学第一年我花了很多时间在游泳训练上 — 可是有点停滞不前。我其实没有什么天赋，即使很努力，表现都很一般，我开始怀疑自己在运动上的发展。艺术系第一年的课程，比较类似基础通识教育，我们什么都学一点，会画水墨画、写书法，当然一些西方媒介的训练主要就是画素描、画油画，也可说比较传统，自己没有太大兴趣，也没有怎样用功，当时真的想过转系，但事实上我无心向学，因此第一年大学成绩太差，也就不能转系。我在想，我需要完成大学的课程，这是社会期望，或者是父母期望；既然转不了系，我不如让自己在当中找一些兴趣点。原来当我愿意花多一点时间在艺术

学习上面时，可以有很大的分别 — 我的世界扩大了。就这样开始逐渐发现艺术里面有很多有趣的东西。但补充一点，中大的课程相对比较保守，种类也比较单调，我喜欢做一些学校不教的东西。当时学校没有摄影课，我却很喜欢摄影；学校里面没有教授装置，我也很喜欢去做。那个时候也看了很多艺术杂志。

卢：是香港的艺术杂志？梁：香港当时是没有专业艺术杂志的，所以主要都是些欧美的艺术杂志。

卢：英文的？梁：对。此外，在大学第二年的暑假，我有机会去美国做一些暑期工，花几个月在美国旅行，就看了很多画廊、美术馆。我发现里面很多东西都很有趣，在这个时期之后我就真的开始想，其实有什么很有趣的东西可以做？不过即使大学毕业，我还没有想过当艺术家，只是想做自己喜欢的东西，或者去看一下跟艺术有关的东西。我是很幸运的人，在大学毕业之前知道有一个意大利政府的奖学金，或许是年轻时想多看看这个世界，我就尝试申请，而且也成功了，就这样在毕业后去了意大利。现在看来，在意大利和之后在比利时的一年半对我的影响很大。我最初到意大利的时候只学意大利文，后来就读摄影课程。摄影课程对我的影响很大，可以说是对我有一些启蒙作用。我认识的在欧洲的朋友对于艺术的看法也让我产生很大的改观。因为在欧洲社会里，大家都觉得这是生活的一部分，我记得有一次跟同学聊天，他告诉我他平时跟妈妈一起的时候都会谈及艺术，我当时就想：在我人生里面从来没有试过这样。读完摄影课程之后，我就去了比利时一家美术馆进行实习。

卢：哪一个美术馆？梁：现在就叫做 SMAK （根特市立现代美术馆）。

卢：在根特？梁：在根特。那个时候还没有叫 SMAK ，当时还是 Jan Hoet 作馆长。他的影响是很大，因为那是 1992 年，刚好由 Jan Hoet 去策划卡塞尔文献展

(Documenta) ，我正好是在文献展之前的这几个月时间在该美术馆实习，于是美术馆里面很多工作都跟文献展有关系，其实坦白说我去之前都没有听说过文献展。很幸运在美术馆里面我接触了一些艺术家 — 算是很成功的艺术家，是那些以前读书的时候只会在书本里面见到的艺术家，通常印象里面他们应该都死掉了。所以在美术馆里面第一次有机会接触活生生的知名艺术家，感觉很特别。当时脑海里面还出现过这个问题：其实我是不是可以尝试做个艺术家？在美术馆实习结束的时候，整个美术馆的同事一起去参加文献展的开幕式。在这个情况下，我有一种很强烈的感受，觉得应该是时候回来香港，去找一些可能性，试一下自己是不是真的可以做个艺术家，不过当时的现实是香港还没有什么条件让我成为艺术家。

卢：在经历卡塞尔文献展之后，你就产生了当艺术家的想法？梁：对，开幕之后就回到香港。因为已看过很多东西，回到香港就很想创作。但因为现实中也需要在经济上找一个可能，所以我就去打工。我的第一份工作就是在亚洲电视台里做节目，那个角色我可以简单说一下。我在打工的三个月里每天看八个小时的电视，主要就是看节目制作出来之后会不会有什么问题，比如说儿童节目里面会不会有不适合儿童的成份之类的。因为香港的电视节目基本上是没有政府预先审查的，但播放后如果发现有问题，还是会被政府处罚，所以电视台本身需要先查实节目无误才播出。我的工作就是这样，也挺有趣，因为我过去颇喜欢看电视 — 不过每天看八个小时还是有点多。我在三个月试用期满之前找到另外一份工作，就是在香港的三联书店做助理编辑，我觉得这份工作对我现在还有不少的影响。那是 1992 年到 1995 年，总共是两年半，正好在香港回归之前，在出版界或整个文化界里面，都有很大的期

望去重新认识香港，包括香港文化和香港历史。我的成长是接受殖民地教育的，在我们中小学课程里面，我们没有学习过香港的历史，也不认识香港文化艺术。所以在三联这两年半好像是一个再教育的机会，我的同事里面全部都有很高的水平，三联的编辑很厉害的，每个人都是博士，我在他们身上学了很多关于香港的东西 — 工作得很开心，真的很喜欢这份工作。我在想如果我没有离开的话，可能我现在还在三联里工作。刚刚也说了，回到香港之后很想做创作，我也一路继续在做，当然这是非常业余的性质，因为每天都要上班。我记得当时要做展览，继续创作的唯一方法就是少睡一点，休息的时间很短。但我当时还是挺愉快的，因为无论是在三联的工作，还是在创作上面都得到了机会。但到了一个阶段我就发现，如果我还想有更多的发展，在如此有限的时间下是很困难的。刚好当时中文大学开了新的硕士课程不久，我想可让我有更多时间投入进去创作，可能是去读一个全日制的课程，我就这样考进去了。当时中大的课程规模很小，同一年包括我自己只有四个同学，但学习气氛很亲切，我们有很多讨论。

卢：那个课程叫什么？梁：一个 MFA 的课程， Master of Fine Art （艺术硕士），一个创作的课程。

卢：正式学习如何成为艺术家？梁：理论上是的，这是一个专业的课程 — 至少在学术层面而言。但是在这两年里面对于我来说很重要的，这是我第一次去认识那种日常和持续的创作方式

(studio practice) ，可以说是一个全职创作的生活方式。经济当然是一个问题，但很幸运在读时也可以当大学助教。 1997 年，香港正值回归，我也完成了

MFA 的课程，创作的路就一直这样走下去了。

卢：在 1993 年的时候，你刚刚从欧洲回来时，你创作的都是什么作品？梁：我做了很多摄影，在此次展览里面可以看到一些黑白针孔摄影，其实就是

那个时候做的。可以说回到香港后的创作，跟在三联工作的经验有关系，想重新认识香港，通过摄影其实是个很好的方法。因为通过香港不同的地方可以重新看这个地方 — 特别是关于香港历史，甚至是关于香港殖民地的历史。我在中学阶段是没有接触过这些的，所以对于我作为香港人来说这也是很新鲜的经验。大部分的作品都同香港的地方、建筑物有关，重新观看在一个特殊文化、历史环境之下，香港是一个什么样的地方。我在中大读 MFA 的时候创作的主题很多时候也是这方面的。摄影是一个很重要的元素，虽然在意大利读摄影的时候时间比较短，只有几个月，但对我的影响挺大，其实这不是摄影的技术课程，课程本身叫做“摄影文化”，课程的设计和创办人其实是很重要的意大利摄影史家 Italo Zannier ，课程很紧凑，每天都有很多时间让一群年轻人在讨论，接触很多关于摄影的东西，但重点是让我们认识摄影是一个什么东西，里面有很多理论课程，实践只佔很少部分。回到香港，我想如何可以通过对于摄影的认知去重新认识香港，摄影这个媒介本身跟历史的关系很密切，历史某种程度好像跟摄影是孪生兄弟一样。当时比较流行一些摄影理论，譬如傅拉瑟 (Vilém Flusser) 、罗兰 · 巴特 (Roland

Barthes) 的影响都很大。所以刚才说到这些作品，摄影不单只是一个创作的媒介，也是一个创作主题，甚至很多时候摄影好像是一个隐喻 (metaphor) ，当时做的一些作品是用以摄影机作为雕塑的方式去处理的。在这次展览里面可以看到 16 × 16 吋的木质针孔相机 — 这是我当时创作的工具，但对于我来说，它本身也是一个作品。

卢：除了这些摄影，还有其他跟这个想法相关的作品吗？梁：会思考一个地方的根源是什么，或者一个地方的过去是什么样。譬如在展览里面有另外两个作品，一个叫做《李宝龙梦》、另外一个叫做《无题（城西梦续）》，在那里有两个黑色的箱、有两个灯泡、一个有五拼的墨印的拓版，这个其实是在 Para/Site 展出的第一个装置作品，这个作品很直接地尝试思考当时

Para/Site 这个空间的前身，你看到的这个拓版是一个很地道的粉面小店的餐

单，因为 Para/Site 的第一个空间位于一个很普通的民居区内，里面没有什麽商业，也没有艺术文化活动。然而这样一个面店反而让我觉得很适合这个社区环境，所以创作的时候我就在想：这个原本是一个面店遗留空间，如果把它看成历史的一个部分，我相信一个这么普通、甚至低微的生活部分，为什么不能成为历史元素呢？特别是通过艺术手法，大家都知道拓印在中国历史里面是非常重要的历史文献，所以有一个这样的想法，将一些很容易被忽略的东西重新提出来。

卢：你刚才谈到 Para/Site ，我知道你很深入参与创立 Para/Site ，这是在什么时间段，为什么会开始这项事情，渊源是什么？梁：这是我读硕士第一年就已经发生的事情，因为在我上研究院之前，在香港的艺术社群里已认识一些朋友了。当时就有两个朋友，一个叫做曾德平、另外一个叫做李志芳，大家的创作取向都有一点接近，大家都喜欢去思考摄影和历史的关系，我们就说不如一起做一个展览。现实是香港缺少这样的空间给我们做展览，我们就想是不是可以去搞一个给自己展览的地方。当时也没有想过要实践什么艺术空间，只不过很单纯从展览的角度出发，但遇到很多技术上的问题，比如说当时在香港的展览大多数只有一、两个星期长，如果只是做一个这么短时间的展览，在香港这个房地产这么夸张的地方，你很难租到一个短期的空间，我们就多找了几个好朋友，一起可以连续组织几个展览，就可以租三、四个月，这样地方就容易找多了。我们就是这样开始去做这个 Para/Site 的，当时是一个很短期的项目，不过挺有趣，我们一共做了三个展览。有一点补充，当时我们大多数没有工作室，香港空间这么短缺，所以在 90 年代很多艺术家做的创作很可能是製作一些很零碎的部分，然后再去展览的地方将它们组装出来，这样才能完成作品。所以我们在那个时候就开始想，既然大家都没有工作室，我们是不是应该把这个空间同时变成我们的工作室，所以我们所做的创作都跟空间有很密切的关系，很特定的（ specific ），这样就变成我们直接在这里创作，直接在这里展览。

当时香港的艺术界很少讨论作品，所以我们就想应该借这个时间做一些讨论，我们虽然只做了三个展览，却进行了六次讨论会。这几个月我们得到很大的鼓励，香港艺术圈反应也很正面，大家发现原来香港很缺乏这样的空间。那次之后我们才认真地想：其实是不是在香港可以成立一个地方让我们有更多、更持续的发展。而真正产生所谓 Para/Site 的空间的概念，是在 1997 年，也就是一年之后我们搬到上环时 — 才真正实践出来。

卢：所以将它定位为一个艺术家自营空间，能否说 Para/Site 是香港当代艺术语境里第一个艺术家自发组织的空间，即第一个独立的空间吗？同时期有没有其他类似性质和方式的机构？梁：我对历史很敏感，所以我会马上告诉你其实不是的。在 Para/Site 之前有很多艺术家都尝试去寻找、开拓这些空间。对于我来说影响比较重要的，就是

1990 年在香港上环开设的一个空间，只有英文名称，叫做 Quart Society ， Quart 就是容量单位夸脱。成员有很多当时很活跃的艺术家，包括我学生时代已很敬重的艺术家，像黄仁逵、杨东龙、韩伟康等。如果你问我，假若没有接触过这些艺术家，没有去过这个地方，我还会做出 Para/Site 吗？真的很难说，但我觉得很多时候过往的经验日后都对我有很多影响。

Para/Site 开的时候 Quart Society 已经结束了好几年，因为它的时间很短，只是 90 年至 92 年。在 Para/Site 之前且至今还继续的艺术家空间有录影太奇（ Videotage ），艺穗会其实是 80 年代初期已经开始了的，严格来说它也算是艺术家空间。但是像 Para/Site 这样专门尝试实践所谓视觉艺术和空间关系的，在我认知里面在当时可能是比较少有的。

卢：你刚才说那时以三个人为主，还找了其他艺术家一起做这个空间，你们做了多久？之后你们都退出了吗？这个经过是怎么样的？梁：最初的时候我们有 7 个艺术家， 1997 年 Para/Site 搬去上环的时候，就变成 6 个，因为当时其中一位成员张思敏决定去英国读书。最初的时候大家都

亲力亲为，每个人都可以多花一点时间，但到了一个时期就产生了一定的困难，因为大家都开始有各自的发展。我记得大概在一年之后，即 1998 、 1999 年的时候，不少成员亦相继出国，梁美萍、文晶莹就去了美国读书。我当时也去了纽约一个叫 ISCP 的艺术家驻地项目，半年之后我现在的太太黄志恒，她也是 Para/Site 的始创成员，亦来到纽约参加 PS1 的驻留项目，我们一共有一年半的时间都不在香港。在 1999 至

2000 年的时候，虽有新成员黄国才、梁宝山等，但 Para/Site 主要是由曾德平来支撑。 2001 年初，我回香港不久并没有什么特别事务，就投身营运 Para/

Site ，包括组织活动和处理日常事务。那时候 Para/Site 的架构也重组了，有一些比较规范化的发展， Para/Site 注册成为非营利机构，有一个正式董事会，好让我们筹募经费。

卢：Para/Site 有多大？梁：很小，那时候是在上环普仁街，现在 Para/Site 已经搬到北角了。虽然包括办公室只有 100 平米左右，但日常工作只靠我（半职）和一位全职的助理，所以还是非常吃力的，如此维持了一年半左右，因为我也有自己的创作和展览，也要参加海外的驻场艺术家活动。我可以放在 Para/Site 的时间越来越少，到

2002 年中我便决定从前线退下来，刚巧梁宝山从英国留学回来，便由她接手来搞。但她干了一年，却心灰意冷而要请辞，她指出 Para/Site 当时的问题，很多董事或者其他成员站得太后，对前缐支持不足，作为一个艺术家的组织已失去活力，如果大家都不能好像以前那样花很多精神、时间在这里的话，其实不如不搞好了。那大概就是 2003 年年中的非典之后，我们因此有一个很严肃的讨论。我当时并没有把 Para/Site 的去留看得那么重要，我觉得不同的机构在其发展过程中，遇到不同的可能性的时候都会有不同的改变。我也回看外国一些艺术家营运的组织，总有一些会解散，一些会转型为艺术中心，一些会变成商业画廊 — 都有这些可能性，我觉得只需要找到合适自己的出路就可以了。经过很

多讨论，大家最后都发现 Para/Site 有很特殊的条件和可能性，作为一个有机的组织，对不同的社会和文化议题可以反应很快，对不同地方的艺术社群有也联系，这样的组织在香港当时实在很少。我们也发现其实搞 Para/Site 对我们自己个人的事业发展都很有帮助，如果这个平台就此结束，好像它带来的良好条件也会同时消失，后来的年轻艺术家可能又要重新发展一个，感觉是有用的建设不能延续。这样我们就会想，如果我们不能亲力亲为，可否让有能力、也愿意花时间的人继续在这个平台发挥。如果 Para/Site 不能像以前那样以艺术家营运的方式下去，我们又能否找专业的策展人营运这个空间？我们大概在 2004 年的时候就有第一个策展人来做 Para/

Site 的工作，但有一个历史的盲点大家可能不知道，因为他上任的时间很短，不过大家对他可能都熟悉，他是陈浩扬。

卢：有，他曾经过去美国巴德学院（ Bard College ）读书。梁：他回来之后很想在香港做一些事情，大家有见面与沟通，那个时候就问他是否有兴趣来 Para/Site 帮忙。

卢：他是香港人？梁：对，但他开始在 Para/Site 工作不久，就遇上其他工作机会，后来便离开迁到上海去。我们就得重新找策展人，之后的故事大家都应该知道了。

卢：对，你在做 Para/Site 这一段时间，你觉得你对这个机构管理的想法，和创作上面的一些思路，有没有平衡的地方或者有重合的地方？梁：有，对于我来说艺术的实践不仅仅是创作，艺术实践有很多不同的范畴。大家都知道里面会包括评论、创作、组织，甚至学习、教学都是。当创作成为你生活一部分的时候，当然你也不容易把创作跟日常的关注分开，因此在我创作里面很多时候我所牵涉到的主题都是身边发生的事情，所以艺术活动、艺术组织和艺术机构也很自然成为我的经验的一部分。在此次展览里，你也可以看到我的作品

不单只是很纯粹的创作，里面的主题都牵涉到对艺术或者文化生态的思考。

卢：此次你在这个展览里有一个主题叫“我的小小艺术世界”，你能否讲讲此次展览里不同时期的作品。梁：刚才讲的在 Para/Site 做的第一个装置作品，“李保龙梦”还有后来的“城西梦续”，当年这个作品不是直接指向艺术世界，但当我们差不多 20 年之后回看这个作品时，我觉得某种程度上它已经变成艺术世界的文献，后来几个作品都是我在预备展览或者做一些特别项目的过程中从艺术环境里感悟到的一些点滴，最后放在作品里。比如说那 16 块木板的雕刻“ HKABE2005 ”里面关于香港艺术双年展的策划方式，或者有一张大台叫做“ CC 办公桌”，其实是关于在香港文化中心里做展览时所遇到的一些官僚问题。后面也有一个作品叫做“降落伞与村岸系列”，里面是讲关于两个我在艺术圈遇到的人。这些题材其实都是在我工作和生活里不能分割的元素。

卢：我想请你讲一讲你的工作方法，虽然你的创作涉及很多不同的方向，但是不是在你创作的时候都有一定的方法？梁：我喜欢去看事物之间的关系里一些容易被忽略的部分。因为这个缘故，可能需要一些额外资料的搜集，这些都成为我近年创作很重要的过程。尝试去想事物之间的关系，很多时候并非必然，有很多看法可以跟其他东西产生联系，现实生活里面我们很多时候很倾向将人与人、人与事之间的关系简化，其实这只是代表我们所看的角度。这个世界不同的人都是在平衡中发展和生存，我很喜欢看事情会不会在平衡之下有另外的可能性出现，这就成为我的角度。近年大家知道互联网的发展让调查的工作容易很多，也让你对于很遥远的资料都能够容易接触到，这给我工作上提供了不少方便。

卢：你作品里面经常出现历史这个想法，思考什么是我们的历史？为什么你会对历史如此感兴趣？你觉得是不是因为你生活在香港这个特殊的语境里？梁：我自身对历史很有兴趣，中学的时候，历史是我成绩最好的一科，升到高中的时候我都很想读历史的，但因为我读理科这方面，后来我就没机会再读历史，喜欢故事，很喜欢去理解所谓事情发展的因果关系。当然另外一方面通过在三联里面的工作经验，我发现原来香港历史是如此有趣的，后来的发展刚才也提过，摄影元素的出现让历史被塑造出新的可能性，所以很自然就成为我会思考的问题。此外，我想历史的论述很多时候都会因为各种的权力关系和条件让其有不同的面貌出现。如果从历史教育上来说，香港素来都处于弱势，其主体性常被忽略，因为我们过去没有机会学习香港历史，甚至没有机会去认识或者去讲香港历史。所以我会很有兴趣重拾一些已经被遗忘了的故事，看是不是可以让我重新发现什麽。这在我另一件作品《无题（不尽及记忆的描述）》中有所涉及。在这件作品当中，我访问了 7 位资深的香港艺术工作者。之前我在图书馆、文献库里面发现了很多我们很少听过的艺术家的名字，甚至很多人都不知道他们是谁。我就集合了这些艺术家名单去访问这 7 位前辈，我问他们是否记得这些艺术家是什么人，做过什么创作。对于我来说，其实这是一个很好的例子 — 他们是不是香港历史的一部分？虽然大家都不知道他们在哪里。

卢：语言呢？我觉得你创作里有很多的元素都涉及语言、文字，包括不同的语言：英语、中文、普通话、广东话。我也知道在过去很多年里，你的创作中有一部分作品是在大陆实现的，通过展览的邀请。请你讲讲你怎么样使用语言这个元素来进行创作？梁：语言跟历史分不开，当我们讲历史的时候，就涉及到历史的书写，历史的书写是需要语言作为工具的。但问题是你以什么语言作为工具，会影响到你写出怎么样的历史。欠缺认可的语言，这历史是可以视为不存在的。我觉得从这个角度看很有趣，一直以来广东话似乎是在狭缝中的语言；由于香港殖民地历

史的缘故，直到 1970 年代中文才成为英文以外的法定语言，但官方书写还是以英文为主，所以长久以来香港历史里单靠中文描述的东西都好像不太实在的。但当我们去到其他地方，又会发现自己的母语可能成为一种不能被理解的语言，正如国内多数人不理解广东话。如果将其单纯看为缺陷，我觉得会失去很多创作可能性或者理解事物本身的机会。反而我有兴趣研究，弱势的语言对我有什么帮助？举一个例子，大家都知道小朋友喜欢有一些秘密不告诉父母，他们就有很多自己的暗语，父母是不会听得明白的，但就能够使他们表达自己。我觉得这也是一个所谓充权 (empowerment) 的表现，去掌握发声的机会。在我创作里面 , 我也很喜欢去想什麽语言表面上为人所熟悉，但同时可以包含一种密码，甚至成为另外一种语言，所以你可以看到我在作品里面对一些文字做出一些解构，重新拼合成另外一种意思，这对于我来说是一种很特别的经验。最直接的例子就是在展览里面有 6 张蓝天白云的照片，大家会以为这只不过是摄影作品，对于我来说，它是否是好的摄影作品并不重要，但必须有一个很像艺术品的面貌让我顺理成章地签上我的名字。而作品上面所签的名是 Liang Zhihe — 梁志和的汉语拼音写法，用普通话发音。因为我的名字正式的英文写法是 Leung Chi Wo — 殖民地官员以英文拼音粤语而成，跟 Liang Zhihe 这个写法完全不一样。我以往在国内展览，遇到过最后写在画册里的艺术家名字是 Liang Zhihe 的情况 — 因此朋友完全不知道我参加过这个展览。而且很多时候展览可能长达几个月，展览的画册就成为历史的文献，那么我在历史里面是否出现过？我觉得很有趣，它好像给我机会同时拥有两个身份，或者在有如虚拟身份下隐着另一个人。

卢：我想问一下关于此次你在 OCAT 这个展览组织方式的想法。此次是对你过去 30 多年创作的一次回望，但因为空间的关系，我们实际上只是选取了其中

30 多套作品，而在此之外你还有很多的其他创作，在我们之前的讨论之中，我们确定了这个展览将专注几个方向，但在展览里面我们又不是严格按照这些题

目来组织作品的，你能否谈谈在这个展览里，你是如何展开叙事的？梁：我刚才也提到我在创作上有不同的兴趣和涉猎不同的范畴，不过一件 20 年前的作品所牵涉的题材，也可能在 20 年之后被重新审视而再做创作。单纯时间的线性表现就不能呈现出整体作品的面貌，反而作品之间很多时候都有很复杂的联系，不同时间的作品，在不同地方或者在不同展览里面所做的作品可能都有一些很遥远的关系，到最后我就用比较技术性的方式来组织展览中的作品，作品先要有空间上的对话，同时我会反复想每一个个作品跟旁边的作品有什么语境上的关系？就此每个展品得到了一个空间位置，联系两旁作品，但不表示它跟远处的作品只有间接关系或没有关系。进一步我就会想，如果可以对展品以 5 种线索平行地串连阅读，形成观众在展场中的路径，就会成为作品之间的复杂网络。一方面我希望视觉上可以给观众一个可观的效果，但同时观众也可以多方面理解作品之间的关系和整个展览的脉络。

卢：我们现在谈谈展览的构成方式，这个展览里面其实出现了很多作品是同空间有关系的，有很多是互换空间的，有一些是城市、天空、城市里面的空间，有一些是有特殊历史意义的空间，也有很多是个人办公的空间、私人的空间。空间在你的创作里面是什么位置？是你一个很长时间内在关注的内容和主旨吗？梁：对于我来说，空间是所有人或者物件可以出现和存在的必然条件。正如我和你都没有空间的话，我们就不能生存，这是最基本的。但是我觉得空间其实有很多种类，正如你刚才所说的，它可能是一个物理的空间，但由物理的空间必然也会发展出一个历史的空间，甚至乎一个文化的空间。所以我觉得这一种延伸很清楚，可以维系到展览不同作品之间的联系。此外，我不知道跟在香港成长会不会有关系？我听很多人会这样说，因为香港人素来空间生活上都是很狭小的，所以对于空间的诉求就很自然，某种程度上我也是同意的。此外，刚才我也说过中学时已想过将来学建筑，我对建筑的空间一向都很有兴趣。

卢：很多人都想知道为什么这个展览的题目是“请按钮”。梁：有两个原因，第一、最近两年我的几个新的装置作品都有用到“ 按钮 ” 的元素，观众可以通过按钮引发一连串的动作，所以是很直接的。另外一个原因是，我很记得的在意大利读摄影的时候，老师曾经引述一句广告的宣传语句。当时是 1888 年，柯达公司（ Kodak ）发明了第一部很小巧的相机，因为之前只有很专业的摄影师用很复杂的器材才能照相，所以摄影只是很少数人才能做到的事情。但柯达的新发明叫 Brownie ，是一个咖啡色的小相机，它宣传语句英文叫做“ you press the button, we do the rest ” （“您只负责按钮，其它的交给我们 ”），也就是说作为摄影者你不需要兼顾那么多，你只需要按钮就可以制作出一个影象。对于我来说这是一个很有趣的思考，因为工业社会以来机械化真的对社会影响很大，而“ 按钮 ” 这个装置是使大家不再去问事情的究竟，总之你觉得按一下按钮有东西发生是合理的。这就是我自己创作上很喜欢问的问题，其实事情之间的关系如何？当你按下这个按钮，作品中就会出现一个可以是看来不相关的效果，但中间这个关联是需要思考的所在。

卢：在这个展览里面你创作了一件最新的作品，就是你在小时候过来深圳看病的经历，我想过去 30 年大陆和香港的关系也一直在发生不同的情况，请问那么多年过来你觉得同中国、大陆艺术界的互动是怎么样的？在想法上面是互不相关，还是能否在创作里面产生一些互动关系？梁：像刚才所说的一件作品，就用汉语拼音签名的方法，某种程度也表现了我对一种陌生系统的反映。跟大陆艺术界的互动应该是有的，但可能是因为分隔而非相融，坦白说我不觉得我曾经有过很深入的互动，因为始终我少有在国内展出的机会，认识的艺术家也不多。当然我的了解可能正如很多不是居住在国内的人一样，通过不同的媒体而可能有一些偏差或者偏见。就我仅有的经验，我发现在国内艺术家世代的转变很大，我记得第一次跟国内艺术家展览，是在 2000 年上海双年展，印象很深刻，那次我见很多国内艺术家都很兴奋，大家都觉得终于有一个开放的平台可以让当

代艺术在国内发展，这是很好的。不久又参加另一次在海外的当代中国艺术展览，我记得当时参展的艺术界有很强的阳刚气，好像没有女性艺术家。但近年来我认识一些年轻的中国艺术家，类型多了，我觉得发展是多元化了。另一方面，我也会觉得不同地方的年轻艺术家差异愈来愈少，因为互联网媒体不断将大家所关心的东西进行分享，所以看到两地年轻艺术家的创作语言和兴趣某种程度比我们那一代是接近了一点的。

卢：好的，谢谢你！今天的讨论非常充分地帮助我们理解你的创作的渊源和经历，以及所处的语境。非常期待通过展览更立体地认识你的思考和实践。

梁：谢谢。

The Obscure Language: Leung Chi Wo in conversation with Carol Yinghua Lu

Carol Yinghua Lu (‘Lu’): Mr. Leung Chi Wo, I feel honoured to work with you on this show, inviting you to have this mid-career retrospective to bring your work to a wider audience. We have spoken several times while preparing the show and you normally speak with us in Putonghua (Mandarin) instead of your native Cantonese. But the themes of language, linguistic culture and linguistic identity feature heavily in your work, so I’d like to take the opportunity to invite you to share your thoughts, your working processes as well as the concept for the show in Cantonese. To start with, I have some questions for you. First of all, I’d like you to tell us your background – are you a Hong Konger? Leung Chi Wo (‘Leung’): Yes.

Lu: Born and bred in Hong Kong? Leung: Yes.

Lu: Can you tell us about your experience growing up? Leung: I was born in Hong Kong but my parents came from Enping in Guangdong Province. Rural economic conditions were dire in the 1950s

and they already had some relatives who had settled in Hong Kong, so they decided to make the move for a better life. I have three siblings and we were all born in Hong Kong.

Lu: So you are a second generation immigrant? Leung: You could say that. But I think it’s a term with other implications – in recent times, we have stopped referring to ourselves as immigrants of whatever generation because more and more people are born and bred in Hong Kong these days.

Lu: How did you become an artist? Leung: There was an element of chance. I’ve always loved drawing, but in the years I was growing up, very few people in Hong Kong would think of becoming artists. There was no such role then – not just in the economic sense but also socially. So when I was about to enter university, it did not cross my mind at all to study art. In Hong Kong, if young people or students were interested in art, they would perhaps choose to go into design or better still, architecture. I thought the same way, and had initially wanted to study architecture. But my childhood was perhaps more unusual because I was a swimmer. Back then, if you had asked me what job I most wanted, my answer would have been, a successful athlete. Of course, an athlete also had very low social standing in Hong Kong. I grew up in the 1980s. When I was a teenager, swimming practice took up most of my time. Hong Kong’s education system is extremely competitive and students had to go through two public examinations to gain a place in university, children spent a lot of time revising and preparing for exams. At the time, I thought it would be ideal if I could both get into

university and continue with my normal swimming schedule. Around the same time, coincidentally, the Chinese University of Hong Kong launched a new admission scheme allowing candidates to apply for admission directly with their secondary education examination results, without having to sit the very difficult Advanced Level Exam. I thought it was a wonderful opportunity; but at the time the Chinese University of Hong Kong did not offer architecture, so I applied to the Department of Fine Arts and was admitted. In the first year, I spent a lot of time on swimming practice but was not making much progress. I wasn’t actually very talented so my performance was at best average despite the effort I put in. I started to have doubts about my sporting potential. The first year of the course had a more general focus on the rudiments, we learnt a bit of everything: Chinese ink painting and calligraphy; and for Western art, there was drawing and oil painting – it could be described as a more traditional training and I wasn’t very interested so I didn’t put in too much effort. I had considered changing my major at the time, but in fact, I was simply not interested in studying. My first year results were really bad, so I wasn’t able to get transferred. My thinking then was that I needed to complete my university studies and graduate – this was what society and my parents expected of me. Since I wasn’t able to transfer, I might as well try to make the best of my situation and find some areas of interest. As it turned out my willingness to put in more effort made a huge difference – my universe expanded. This was how I started discovering the many interesting aspects of art. Here I must add: the course at CUHK was relatively traditional and monotonous, and I was more interested in subjects not taught on the course. At the time, the school did not offer photography, which I liked a lot; installation wasn’t in the curriculum either

and this again was something in which I was very interested. I also read art magazines voraciously during this period.

Lu: Were they magazines from Hong Kong? Leung: There were no dedicated art magazines published in Hong Kong at the time, so the magazines were mainly from Europe and America.

Lu: Were the magazines in English? Leung: Yes. On top of that, during the summer break of my second year in university, I had the chance to get a summer job in the United States and spent a few months travelling in there. I visited many galleries and museums. There was so much I found interesting, and it was after this period that I really started thinking about the interesting things I could do. Even then, after graduation, I did not think about becoming an artist â&#x20AC;&#x201C; I thought only of doing things I enjoyed or looking at art-related stuff. I was very lucky: before I graduated, I found out about a scholarship given by the Italian government. I decided to apply, perhaps due to my youthful desire to see the world â&#x20AC;&#x201C; and I succeeded. So I found myself heading to Italy on graduation. Looking back, the one and a half years I spent in Italy and then Belgium actually had a great influence on me. When I first arrived in Italy, I was only studying Italian, but after that I enrolled in a photography course. This actually had a huge impact on me â&#x20AC;&#x201C; you could say that it inspired me. I was also influenced by the artistic views of the friends I made in Europe. In European society, art is considered a part of life; I remember talking with a classmate who mentioned that he and his mother would frequently discuss art in their chats. I thought to myself then, this is something I have never encountered.

After completing the photography course, I embarked on an internship in an art museum in Belgium.

Lu: Which museum was that? Leung: It’s now called S.M.A.K (the Municipal Museum of Contemporary Art - Ghent).

Lu: In Ghent? Leung: Yes. Back then it wasn’t known as S.M.A.K yet, and the director was Jan Hoet. He’s a very influential figure – it was 1992 and Jan Hoet was the curator of Documenta Kassel. I was doing my internship at the museum during the months just before Documenta, so the museum was handling a lot of work related to the event. To be honest, I had never even heard of Documenta before. I was very lucky to get the chance to come into contact with some very successful artists. They were artists I had read about in books as a student and I had imagined that they were no longer around. So being able to meet these famous artists - living and breathing - at the art museum was a very special experience indeed. A question popped up in my head then: could I actually try to become an artist? At the end of my internship, all my colleagues at the art museum went to the opening of Documenta together. I felt very intensely then that it was time for me to return to Hong Kong and explore the possibility of becoming an artist myself. But in reality, the conditions for me to become an artist did not yet exist in Hong Kong at that point.

Lu: So the idea of becoming an artist came to you after your experience at Documenta Kassel? Leung: Right, I returned to Hong Kong after the opening. Because I had seen

so much, I wanted to start creating on my return. But because of economic realities, I started looking for a job instead. My first job was with Asia Television, here I can give you a brief description. I watched eight hours of TV daily in the three months I worked there, and my job was to spot potential problems in programmes that had been produced. For example, did the children’s programmes contain any content unsuitable for young viewers? In Hong Kong, TV programmes generally did not have to go through government approval before being broadcast, but if any problems were discovered after they aired, the broadcaster would be penalised. That’s why TV stations needed to vet the programmes before they went on air. So, that was my job, and it was quite interesting, because I used to like watching TV. But eight hours a day was still excessive. I found another job before my three-month probation was up, as assistant editor at Joint Publishing Hong Kong. I think the job still holds influence over me today. From 1992 to 1995, in the two and a half years of the job, just before Hong Kong’s return to China, there was a very strong desire to get to know Hong Kong again – especially its history and culture. Growing up, I had received a colonial education and we never studied Hong Kong’s history in our primary and secondary school curriculum; neither did we know much about its culture. So my two and a half years at Joint Publishing provided me with an opportunity for re-education. All my colleagues were highly qualified – Joint Publishing editors were very smart, they all had doctorates. I learnt a lot about Hong Kong working with them and I was very happy with my job. Had I not left, I would probably still be working there. As mentioned, after returning to Hong Kong, I wanted very much to get into the creative realm – I did pursue my creative interest but I did it more as a hobbyist, because I still had a job to go to every day. I remember the time

I wanted to hold my first exhibition: the only way I could continue with my creative work was by sacrificing sleep. So I became sleep deprived, but still quite happy, because I enjoyed the opportunities I had both at Joint Publishing and in my creative endeavours. But it got to a stage where I realised that it would be too hard to achieve any breakthrough with the limited time I had. Around the same period, the Chinese University of Hong Kong launched a new Masters degree course and I thought going back into full-time study might afford me more time to make art. So I enrolled. The class was relatively small, there were only four students in my cohort, including myself, but the group was a very close-knit one and we had a lot of discussions among ourselves.

Lu: What was the name of the course? Leung: It was an MFA â&#x20AC;&#x201C; Master of Fine Art, a studio art course.

Lu: Formal training for an artistic career? Leung: Yes, in theory, this was a professional course â&#x20AC;&#x201C; at least on the academic level. But the two years were extremely significant for me; it was when I first learnt about studio practice - a daily, continuous way of making art, what you could call a full-time creative lifestyle. Finances were a problem of course, but fortunately, I was able to work as a teaching assistant while studying. In 1997, just as Hong Kong returned to China, I completed my MFA. I have continued on this creative path since then.

Lu: In 1993, when you had just returned from Europe, what kind of work did you produce? Leung: I did a lot of photography. The black and white pinhole images shown at the exhibition were made during this period. The art works I made after

returning to Hong Kong were closely related to my experience working at Joint Publishing. Photography was actually a great way to get to know Hong Kong anew, because the exploration of different locations in Hong Kong offered a fresh perspective on the place, especially on Hong Kong’s history, and its colonial history. I never learnt this history in school so it was actually a very new experience for me as a Hong Konger. Most of the work is related to Hong Kong as a place, and its architecture; it is a fresh look at the kind of place that Hong Kong has become under the unique cultural and historical conditions. Many of the creative themes of my work during my time doing the MFA at Chinese University were also related to this. Photography was a crucial element of my work, although the photography course I had taken in Italy was a relatively short one – it lasted only a few months. It did, however, leave a huge impact. It wasn’t a technical course; the title of the course was “Culture of Photography” and it was created and planned by a very important photography historian, Italo Zannier. The course was very intense; we spent a lot of time in discussion each day and were exposed to many different aspects of photography. The focus was on giving us an understanding of what photography was. A large part of the curriculum was theoretical, only a small part was practical. On my return to Hong Kong, I thought about how I could use photography to get to know Hong Kong afresh. Photography is a medium that is closely intertwined with history – history is almost like photography’s twin. Some theories on photography – such as those of Vilém Flusser and Roland Barthes - that had currency at the time also influenced me. In the work mentioned earlier, photography served not merely a creative medium but also a theme. In fact, quite often, photography was like a metaphor. In a lot of the work, the camera was a sculpture. One of the exhibits

in my show is a 16 x 16 wooden pinhole camera I used back then. To me, it is a work in itself.

Lu: Besides these photographic works, were there other pieces with a similar concept? Leung: There are meditations on the roots of places or what these places were like in the past. For instance, there are two works in the exhibition called Dream of a Path and Untitled (After Dream of a Path) which feature two black boxes and two light bulbs that had actually been used in the first installation piece at a Para/Site show, and a five-panel rubbing respectively. This work is a direct attempt at reflecting on the predecessor of the Para/Site space. The rubbing represented the menu of a very traditional noodle stall—Para/Site’s first space was located within a very ordinary residential neighbourhood. There were no businesses there and neither were there cultural events of any sort. But the noodle shop made me feel very comfortable in the community, so while working on the piece, I thought: this space could be previously a noodle shop – if we could consider it a part of history, why couldn’t it become a historical element – in spite of its ordinariness and or even lowliness, especially through an artistic treatment? We all know that stone rubbing holds great significance in Chinese history – and so, with this concept in mind, I wanted to bring out easily overlooked elements.

Lu: You mentioned Para/Site, and I know that you were deeply involved with its founding. When was this and why did you embark on the venture – how did it come about? Leung: It started during my first year in the MFA programme. Before I began my studies, I had already made some friends within the artist community

of Hong Kong. Among them were Tsang Tak Ping and Patrick Lee. Our creative direction was somewhat similar and we all enjoyed delving into the relationship between photography and history, so we thought we should do a show together. In reality Hong Kong lacked exhibition space back then, so we thought of creating our own space. At the time, we had not really given much thought to the type of art space we were trying to realise, and we were considering matters purely in terms of organising an exhibition. We ran into a lot of technical problems, such as the fact that most exhibitions in Hong Kong at the time lasted only one to two weeks. Hong Kong’s real estate market was crazy and it was very hard to lease a space for such a short duration, so we got a few other friends together to organise a series of exhibitions, which meant we could get a three to four month rental - much easier to find. This was how we got started on Para/Site – it was short-term project at the time, but very interesting. We held three exhibitions in all. I should also add that most of us did not have our own studio then, there’s such a shortage of space in Hong Kong that many artists in the 1990s could only work on fragments of their pieces before assembling the different parts and completing their work in the exhibition venue. Since none of us had work spaces, we thought the venue could double up as our studio. This was why our work was so closely tied to the space, and was so site-specific – we were creating and exhibiting in the same space. There was very little discussion about art within the art world of Hong Kong at the time, and we thought of taking the opportunity to set off some discussion. We had only three shows under our belt, but held six seminars. Over the short period of a few months, we received a lot of encouragement and the response from the art world was also very positive. Everyone realised how much Hong Kong needed such a space. Thereafter we began

to seriously consider establishing a space which would facilitate further and more sustainable development. The concept for Para/Site was really realised in 1997, a year after we moved to the Sheung Wan area.

Lu: Could we define it as an artist-run space, and could we then say that Para/Site was the first venture of its kind, initiated and established by artists, in Hong Kong’s contemporary art scene – in other words, the first independent artist-run space? Were there any similar groups or organisations then? Leung: I’m highly attuned to history, so I can tell you off the cuff that was not the case. Before Para/Site, there were already many artists who tried to find and develop the same kind of space. One such venture that had a more important influence on me was a space in the Sheung Wan area of Hong Kong was set up in 1990. Its name was in English only, Quart Society. Its members were very active artists, a few of whom I held in very high regard as a student: Yank Wong, Yeung Tong Lung, Josh Hon, among them. If you asked: would I still have set up Para/Site had I not known of these artists and been to the space they created? I wouldn’t know how to answer, but I do feel that I am profoundly shaped by my past experiences. By the time Para/Site started, Quart Society had already ended for several years. It existed for a very short period of time, from 1990 to 1992. The other artist-run spaces that existed before Para/Site which are still running include Videotage, and The Fringe Club, which started in the early 1980s – strictly speaking, it counted as an artist-run space too. But Para/Site is probably one of the very few I know of dedicated to the exploration of the relationship between visual art and physical space.

Lu: You said there were three principal members then, and other artists were

roped in to establish the space – for how long did it last? Did you all quit in the end? Can you tell us what happened? Leung: There were seven of us in the beginning. In 1997 when Para/Site moved to Sheung Wan, there were six of us left, because the seventh member Lisa Cheung had decided to further her studies in England. We all did what we could in the beginning, no one minded putting in more time, but after we got to a certain stage, difficulties developed – because of the development of our individual careers. I recall that after about a year – in 1998 or 1999, several members headed abroad one after the other. Leung Mee Ping and Phoebe Man Ching Ying went to study in the US. I also left for an ISCP art residency in New York. Half a year later, another founding member of Para/Site, Sara Wong, who is now my wife, also went to New York for a PS1 residency. So we were not in Hong Kong for one and a half years. Between 1999 and 2000, there were new members such as Kacey Wong and Anthony Leung Po Shan; but it was primarily Tsang Tak Ping who was running the show. In early 2001, shortly after I returned to Hong Kong, I was not particularly busy and had more time to devote to running Para/ Site, organising activities and events as well as running its daily operations. Para/Site had also restructured and had in place a framework for development; it was registered as a non-profit organisation and had an official board. The changes facilitated fund-raising.

Lu: How big is Para/Site? Leung: Very small. At the time, Para/Site was on Po Yan Street in Sheung Wan – it has now moved to North Point. The space we had – including an office, was only around 100 square metres, and it was run by myself (working parttime) and a full-time assistant, so the going was pretty tough. We lasted about

a year and a half. I was busy with my own creative work and shows, and was taking part in foreign residency activities, so I had less and less time to devote to Para/Site. By 2002, I decided to step down from the front line. Around the same time, Anthony Leung Po Shan had returned from her studies in England and so she took over. But after a year, she felt very dejected and wanted to quit. She pointed out the problems with Para/Site at the time: many of the board members and other members were too distant, providing inadequate support for the front line; it had lost its vitality as an art co-op and if we were not able to devote as much time and energy as before, we might as well quit. So after the SARS outbreak in mid-2003, we held a very serious discussion about Para/Site’s future. At the time, I wasn’t overly concerned about of Para/Site’s continued existence – I felt different organisations had different developmental paths and there existed different possibilities that would lead to different directions. I had also observed the development of artist-run organisations abroad: some disband, some become art centres, and others evolve into commercial galleries. These are all possible paths – and any path that is suitable for the organisation and artists concerned is the right path. After a lot of discussion, we found that Para/Site had unique characteristics that meant unique opportunities: as an organic organisation, it is able to react promptly to social and cultural issues of the day and it is also highly connected to different art communities – such an organisation was a rarity in Hong Kong at the time. We also realised that Para/Site had been a great help to our individual careers and leaving it to end just like that meant the favourable conditions it had brought about would disappear. Young artists coming onto the scene would have to set up a comparable organisation of their own and the general feeling was that the constructive environment would no

longer exist. It made us think: even if we couldn’t run the organisation ourselves, could we leave it to others who might have the ability and the time to continue developing this platform? Even if we were no longer able to maintain the original artist-run format of Para/Site, would getting professional curators to run the space be a good alternative? Around 2004, Para/Site saw its first curator take the helm; but because he was only there for a very short time, his tenure might have escaped notice. His name, however, is well-known– David Chan Ho Yeung.

Lu: Yes, I’ve heard of him, he studied at Bard College in the US. Leung: He wanted very much to do something in Hong Kong on his return; we were in touch with him and asked if he would like to help out at Para/Site.

Lu: He is from Hong Kong? Leung: Yes. But not long after he started at Para/Site, other opportunities came along and he left for Shanghai. So we had to look for another curator, and I think everyone knows what happened after that.

Lu: In your time at Para/Site, did you find any balance or overlap in your thinking with regards to managing the organisation and your creative work? Leung: Yes. For me, the practice of art lies not only in creation – there are many other aspects. As we all know, critique, creation, organisation, and even learning and teaching are all forms of artistic practice. When artistic creation becomes a part of your life, it becomes difficult to isolate it from the day-today focus of your life. This is why I often incorporate themes that come from the things happening around me in my art work. So art events, organisations and institutions have also very naturally become a part of my life experience.

You will see that many of the works in this current show are not purely artistic creations - the underlying themes incorporate reflections on the artistic or cultural ecosystem.

Lu: One of the themes of this current exhibition is “My Small Art World”, could you give us a brief introduction of the works from different periods in this show. Leung: The first installation pieces at Para/Site I mentioned earlier, Dream of a Path and Untitled (After Dream of a Path) , were not – at the time of their creation – directly aimed at the art world; but looking back on it 20 years after, I realised on some level it has become a documentation of the art world. The subsequent pieces are all inspired by reflections brought about by the artistic environment during preparations for shows or other projects that had been incorporated into my work. One example is the 16 wooden-panel HKABE2005 which comes from the planning of the Hong Kong Art Biennale, or a large desk titled CC Bureau , which comes from the bureaucratic problems I encountered in preparing for a show at the Hong Kong Cultural Centre. There follows another piece title Jonathan & Muragishi which is about two people I have come across in the art world. These subjects are inseparable from my work and life.

Lu: I’d like to invite you to tell us about how you work – there are many different factors at work during your creative process, but do you have a set modus operandi? Leung: I like to examine the often-neglected facets of the relationship between things. Because of this, I might need to look through a lot of other material – it has become a very important part of my creative work in recent years. Quite often, I try not to take the relationship between things for granted. We can

develop new views into those usual relationships between things – in real life we tend to simplify the relationship between people or between people and incidents, but this is actually merely a representation of our own perspective. In our world, many people’s living and development are made in parallel, and I like to look at what other possibilities exist between them –this is the angle I adopt. With the internet, research has become much easier. We’re now able to look up material at remote locations very easily and this has brought more convenience to my work.

Lu: Is history and reflection on what constitutes history a recurring theme in your work? Why are you so interested by history? Do you think it’s because of the fact that you live in Hong Kong – which offers a unique context? Leung: I do have a deep interest in history. In secondary school, it was my best subject and when I was in senior high I wanted to major in history, but because I was doing science subjects, I wasn’t able to continue studying history. I like story-telling and enjoy trying to understand the cause and effect and relationship between events. On the other hand, my work experience at Joint Publishing also gave me a taste of just how interesting the history of Hong Kong is. What happened from there, I already mentioned earlier – the introduction of photography allowed new possibilities for moulding history and naturally it became something I thought about. I also think historical narrative is often affected by the powers engaged and the different conditions which bring out different sides of the story. In the teaching of history, Hong Kong has always been relegated to a position of weakness – its subjectivity is often disregarded. In the past we didn’t have many opportunities to learn about the history of Hong Kong; we didn’t even get the chance to understand or discuss Hong Kong’s past. That’s

why I am so interested in piecing together narratives that have been forgotten, to see if I might make new discoveries. Here, another of my work Untitled (Words about Memories but Not Exactly) features this theme; I interviewed seven veteran Hong Kong artists. Before the interviews, I discovered the names of many artists rarely or never heard of through research in the library and trawling through archives. I made a list of their names and tracked down seven veteran artists to ask if they knew of these artists and their work. For me, this is actually a good illustration: can they be considered part of Hong Kong’s history if no one knows about them?

Lu: What about language? I find that there are many linguistic elements in your work, including different languages: English, Chinese, Putonghua, and Cantonese. Over the years, because you have also been invited to participate in shows in mainland China, a lot of your work was completed here. Can you talk us through how you use the elements of language in your creative work? Leung: Language and history are profoundly connected – when we speak of history, we speak of the writing of history, of which language is a necessary tool. But the question here is the language of choice, as it affects your rendition of history. Without a recognised language, the history recorded can be viewed as non-existent. I think this is a very interesting angle; Cantonese has always been a vernacular that appeared to have been sidelined; because of Hong Kong’s past as a colony, it was only in the 1970s when Chinese joined English as the official language. But official documents were still in English. So for a long time, aspects of Hong Kong’s history that were described solely in Chinese seemed unreal. Yet when we go to other places, we find that our mother tongue may not be understood – just as most people in mainland China don’t understand

Cantonese. If we see it purely as a shortcoming, it becomes a missed opportunity – we lose a lot not just in terms of creativity but also in the understanding of matters. I am interested in studying how a subjugated language can help me. Take for example: as we all know children like to keep secrets from their parents, so they develop their own secret code that will not be understood by their parents, but can let them express themselves freely. I feel this is a form of empowerment – to seize the chance to voice out. In my work, I like to think about the aspect of language that is at once familiar and yet holds a secret code, which might even become another language. That’s why you can see in some of my work, how words are deconstructed and then recombined to produce new meaning. This is a very special experience for me. But a more obvious example is the six photos of blue sky with white clouds. Viewers might think of it merely as a photographic work but for me, it doesn’t matter if it’s a good or bad photograph – what matters is that it looks like an art piece that I can put my name to. The work is signed with ‘Liang Zhihe’ which is the hanyu pinyin rendition of Leung Chi Wo. The official English version of my name is Leung Chi Wo – this is the anglicised version of my name from its Cantonese pronunciation, and looks completely different from Liang Zhihe. In the past when I participated in shows in mainland China, I’ve seen my name spelt as Liang Zhihe in the list of artists published in the catalogue. So my friends had no idea of my involvement in these exhibitions. Sometimes the shows last a few months and the catalogues then become historical documentation – it brings us to the question of whether or not I have appeared in history. I find it intriguing: it almost seems like an opportunity for having two identities or to hide behind a virtual identity.

Lu: Could you also share your thoughts with regards to the organisation of this OCAT show. It’s a retrospective of your work over the past 30 plus years, but because of space constraint we could select only 30 sets out of a far bigger body of work. In previous discussions, we ascertained the main themes of the show, yet we did not adhere strictly to these themes in the arrangement of the pieces. Can you tell us how the narrative is laid out in this exhibition? Leung: As I mentioned earlier, my work covers a broad range of themes and interests, and a theme that appeared in a work created 20 years earlier may be revisited two decades later. A chronological categorisation would therefore be inadequate for presenting the show. On the other hand, the different pieces sometimes have very complex connections to one another – different pieces or works created at different times, locations or shows may have remote links. In the end I decided on a more technical approach in organisation: first the work must feature a dialogue with the space; at the same time, I also took into consideration the contextual relationship the works have with one another. So each piece has its own spatial position and is also linked to the works next to it. This, however, does not mean that it bears only an indirect or remote link to pieces that are placed further away. Then I thought, if we could link all the exhibits through five main threads in a parallel way, and form a pathway through the exhibition venue for the visitors, this would create a complex network. I would like to offer viewers a tangible visual spectacle and at the same time, show them different aspects of the relationship between the different pieces, as well as the general thread of the show.

Lu: On the topic of the organisation of the works in the show – there are many pieces in this show that are connected to spaces, plenty of them referring to gestalt the visual perception. Some feature cities, the sky, or spaces within

cities, while others feature spaces with historical significance. There are also pieces that feature work and private spaces. What is the role of space in your creative work? Is it a subject you have long focused on, a recurring theme? Leung: To me, space is essential for the existence and appearance of all man and matter - just as we wouldn’t even exist if we didn’t have space – so it is fundamental. But there are many different types of spaces, just as you mentioned, it could be a physical space, but out of a physical space a historical space might develop, or even a cultural space. I feel this extension is clear and it can also be extrapolated to the relationship between the different exhibits in the show. On top of that, I don’t know if it might also have something to do with Hong Kong’s development: it’s often said that Hong Kongers have always had very cramped living spaces creating a natural demand for space. To a certain degree, I agree with this saying. Furthermore, as I mentioned, I had once thought of studying architecture – I’ve always been very interested in architectural space.

Lu: A lot of people want to know why the exhibition has been titled “Press the Button”. Leung: There are two reasons: first, the recent installations I made in the last couple of years all feature a push button; viewers can push buttons to set off a series of actions – so that’s a very obvious reason. The second reason comes from my memory of studying photography in Italy. The instructor once quoted a line from an advertisement. In 1888, Kodak invented the first compact camera. Prior to that, only professional photographers using complicated equipment could take photos and that’s why photography was limited to very few. But Kodak’s invention, a coffee coloured camera called Brownie, came about and changed things. The slogan

used to sell it was, “You press the button, we do the rest.” It meant that as a photographer, you no longer had to bother with too much – all you had to do was push a button to create an image. This was a very interesting thought to me: since the age of industrialisation, automation has had a very profound impact on society. And the push button is an invention that has actually stopped people from investigating a situation – they have started to feel that it’s natural for something to happen when you press a button. It’s an issue that I like to examine in my creative work – what is the actual relationship between things? When you press a button, something inconsequential might happen, but the connection is worth a thought.

Lu: This show also features your latest work, which involves your experiences going to Shenzhen to seek medical help as a child. Over the past 30 years, the relationship between Hong Kong and mainland China has kept changing – how do you feel about your interaction with the art world in mainland China? Is the thinking completely different or is there some interactivity in creative work? Leung: I mentioned a work earlier where I had signed off using hanyu pinyin – to some degree it reflects my thoughts on an alien system. There is some interaction between the art worlds of Hong Kong and mainland China, but they are separate rather than fused. To be honest, I don’t feel like I have experienced a lot of in-depth interaction, because I haven’t had a lot of opportunities to hold exhibitions on the mainland and don’t know many artists here. Of course my understanding of things might be similar to that of people who don’t actually live in mainland China – there might be some biases or misunderstanding formed through the perspectives of different media. In my limited experience, the different generations of artists in mainland China are very different; I recall the first time I had a show with Chinese artists from the

mainland, at the Shanghai Biennale in 2000. It left a very deep impression: so many artists I saw were excited, they all felt there was finally a platform for contemporary art to develop in China and this was a good thing. Not long after, I participated in a Chinese contemporary art show overseas and remember a very strong masculinity emanating from the art circle, as though there were no female artists. But in recent years, I have met young Chinese artists that seem to hail from more different backgrounds so I feel that development has also become more diverse. On the other hand, I find that young artists from different places are becoming less different from one another. The internet has enabled issues and common concerns of our day to be shared around the world so the themes and motifs in the works of artists from Hong Kong and China have become more similar than that of artists from my generation.

Lu: Thanks very much for your time today! Todayâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s rich discussion has helped us to understand your creative inspiration and experience, as well as the context of your work. We look forward to further insight to your thoughts and artistic practice through the exhibition. Leung: Thank you.

翻译的剩余 ─ 短评梁志和深圳

OCAT 个展“请按钮 ……瞻前顾后”

梁宝山

九十年代出道、创办 Para/Site 艺术空间、 2001 年参与威尼斯双年展、现于城市大学创意媒体学院任教 …… 梁志和正是香港当代艺坛一棵长青树。九七前一同深受后殖民理论影响、探索香港文化身份的七位 Para/Site 创办人，一半已淡出艺坛。中生代艺术家，如转化初衷？要是能由旁观者来帮忙“ 清 ” 理，就最好不过。香港的商业画廊既欠缺足以举办大型回顾展的空间，而公营美术馆的公平原则，又常常左右为难，连许多有划时代意义的前辈 ( 像仍正展出的雕塑家唐景森 ) ，也来不及在有生之年完成有系统的调查展 (survey exhibition) ，更遑论这些仍然活生生的中青辈了。

展览包括梁氏最早期的针孔摄影香港地景；把摄影图象及工具“ 立体化 ” 成装置及能下肚的曲奇；一方面深入家居，另一方面又走出城市的空间探索；还有从早年到如今不曾放弃，从历史再出发，跨越公共与私密的对话 ...... 等等由

1993 年至今共 31 组作品。作为从小就看着梁氏作品长大的香港观众，他的创作思路如何步步走来，一向高度理性，算当清晰。例如从仰望十字街角利用摄影变成的负空间，加入黄志恒的参与，便变成了正空间的曲奇，而且更随着艺

术家的事业而迁徒，就地取“ 裁 ” 成威尼斯、纽约和上海的天空。而这些负空间探索到了传统老屋，又倒过来变成以传统格窗形状重新化成立体形状而排列成的虚构城市。梁氏早期的后殖民关注，更是一直持之以恒，从维多利亚城到维多利亚名，以众裡寻她的方式，搜索旧城居民的私密回忆，把脑海裡的空间化成言语、覆述、翻译。但经过这种反覆洗炼，与陈界仁影象声境的身体性背道而驰，梁氏镜头与覆述下的常民书写，情绪和私密性被高度浓缩，以非常抽离的声音和影像重现，与所叙述内容形成强烈对比甚至撕裂。梁氏作品的政治性，亦是因此而被掩藏，甚至与当下香港的本土政治的情绪性，划出一个更能容纳批判思考的历史深度。

这趟梁志和的中期回顾过江北上，由大陆实力派策展人卢迎华主持，如何以另一角度予以诠释？展览没有取按序分期方式布置展品，而是按照梁氏 5 个互为相关、但又各有则重的主题分作有机排列，分别是：城市与神话；主观记忆；不确定性的文字和语言；我的小小艺术界；空间的视觉。每一组作品，在牆面与空间分布上，都被给予充分的独立性。而梁志和亦把握机会，结合深圳与历史的一向的关注，在展览入口即设置了唯一的新作《我的深圳矿藏》(Shenzhen

Mine 1973) 。梁氏一向虽然关注历史，却少有从自身出发。这个需要观众以停在作品前以按钮方式参与的作品，少有地渗入自传内容，更利用历史图片的偶然性 ( 重演老照片中人物，正是梁氏与黄志恒近年的另一个创作主题 ) 。作品以该年《人民画报》的矿工封面出发，以“ Mine ”的一语双关 ( 我的 / 矿藏 ) ，把偶拾图片、儿时上深圳医院求医的路线、及今日的深圳风景时空并置。那具连接按钮的旧风扇。影随风动，掩盖在政治宣传底下的个人、使这么近那么远的中港边界，一时间灵动起来。幽默与诗意，是梁氏少有的神来之笔。

梁氏作品虽然充满香港注脚，当中的政治讯息，也多是迂迴的，并仅止于在文化政治之上。但群众参与，夹带的敏感词未能过江， 2008 年旧作〈亚洲国际都会〉，由群众提供的若干字句，被硬生生地从墙壁上剪掉。决定之后翌日，

梁氏灵机一触，废物利用，从蓝底白字的胶贴中剪出“ Fine sky with white

clouds ！”一句短语，贴在作品背面的另一堵墙上。馀下的蓝白胶贴，更被揉成一团贴在旁边。删禁在大陆是家常便饭。要做英雄，考的是勇气与成本。但怎么才能退一步海阔天空，考的却是艺术家与策展人的机智！

从中文到英文、从口语到手语、从繁体到简体、从图象到文字，梁氏的惯技，是把字面子底的文化翻来覆去，发掘差异与歧异，在不 / 可翻译性的灰色地带插科打诨。 ( 成功过关的反倒是中英简繁的作品说明 ) 这次入境问 / 犯禁，竟在有意无意之间，从语言翻译，变成 Latour “ 能动网络理论”式的转化 ( 英文均称为 translation) 。虽然转化不能成功，但无意中产生的剩馀物 (residue) ，正如矿藏 / 我一样成为铜板的两面。梁志和作为智性 (intellectual) 路线的艺术家，从理论到艺术，这些剩馀物，正抺出云端之外的蓝天。

The Residue of Translation – a review of Press the Button – Leung Chi Wo: a survey exhibition at Shenzhen OCAT

Anthony Leung Po-shan

Having made his debut in the 1990s, co-founding the artistic platform Para/ Site, participating in the 2001 Venice Biennale and now teaching at the School of Creative Media of the City University of Hong Kong, Leung Chi Wo has indeed been aperennial presence in Hong Kong’s contemporary art scene.

The founders of Para/Site had been deeply influenced by post-colonial studies and carried out in-depth exploration of cultural identity in Hong Kong prior to its return to China in 1997, but of the seven co-founders, three have already faded out of the art scene. So, what can a mid-career artist make of his initial drive? Getting an objective observer to help put an order to things offers the best option for arriving at an answer to the question. Commercial galleries in Hong Kong lack space for a large-scale retrospective while public art museums often have their hands tied because of the principle of fairness they are held to. As a result, even more senior artists who have made significant

contribution to the art world have not had the privilege of holding a systematic survey exhibition during their lifetime, what more their junior counterparts who are still living and breathing.

The show includes Leung’s earlier pinhole images of Hong Kong; both the images and his tools have been made three-dimensional, turning them into bite-size digestible installations. While providing an insight to the living spaces of Hong Kong, they also serve as an exploration of spaces beyond the city. Researches started in his early years as an artist that continue to this day are also featured; the exchanges take history as a starting point and transcend the boundaries of public and private. The works, dating back to 1993, are categorised into 31 groups. For viewers from Hong Kong who have grown up with Leung’s works, his creative direction and its evolution – which has always been highly orderly – would be clear. For example, the transformation of an overhead view from a crossroad into negative space through photography, turned into positive space as a cookie with the participation of Sara Wong. The changes that happen as Leung’s career develops are also apparent: the skies of Venice, New York and Shanghai have all become local material for him where his path takes him. The negative spaces in these works are explorations of traditional houses; at the same time, the perspective has also been altered putting the focus on the dimension of the traditional lattice window to create an illusory city. Leung’s early focus on post-colonial studies has remained a recurring theme in his work. From the City of Victoria to the women named Victoria whom he searched everywhere, he explores the private memories of the Old City’s residents, turning the spaces of his imagination into language, narrative, and interpretation. But through this repeated processing, the results are completely different from the physicality of the visual soundscapes of

the artist Chen Chieh-jen. Under Leung’s lens and narrative, the portrayal of ordinary citizens, their emotions and privacy are highly condensed and represented with highly abstract images and sound, forming a strong contrast with the content that is being represented. The political nature of Leung’s work is disguised through this means – in fact, there is a marked departure from the emotional nature of Hong Kong’s nativism, allowing a more rational and critical dimension to exist within such wider historical depth.

This mid-career retrospective of Leung Chi Wo’s work has made the northern crossing into Mainland China and is organised by the acclaimed curator Carol Lu – what changes will be brought about by the modification in perspective? Instead of following a chronological order, the exhibits are grouped according to five separate but related themes with their own focus: “City and its myth”, “Subjective memory”, “Text and language of uncertainty”, “My small art world”, and “Perceptive space.” Each group is afforded adequate independence through their arrangement on the wall and in the exhibition space. Leung Chi Wo seized the opportunity to combine his interest in Shenzhen and history in his latest installation Shenzhen Mine 1973, found at the entrance of the exhibition. Leung has always been interested in history but rarely from an individual perspective. This new work, which requires audience participation in the form of pushing a button, embodies just that and also makes use of the randomness of historical images (Leung and Sara Wong’s recent collaborationalso features the re-enactment of poses found in old photographs). The work takes the cover image of a miner from China Pictorial as a starting point and plays on the different definitions of the word (belonging to me, and mineral deposits). Random images, route maps of childhood visits to hospitals in Shenzhen and scenes of Shenzhen today are juxtaposed. A fan

is connected to the push button. Its shadow moves with the breeze, casting shadows over the individuals under the weight of political propaganda, and giving life to the border dividing Hong Kong from mainland China - so near, yet so far. Humour and poetics are the strokes of brilliance that are not often seen in Leung’s work.

Despite the clear references to Hong Kong in Leung’s body of work, the political messages it contains are indirect and are limited to the cultural. But the elements of mass audience participation and other taboo phrases have not made it across the border. His 2008 work Asia’s World City which featured crowd-sourced phrases saw some words and phrases cut out. The day after the censorship decision was taken, Leung came up with the idea to recycle the deleted white letters out of the blue background into “Fine sky with white clouds!” and stuck it on another wall behind where the work was installed. The rest of the sticker from which the phrase was cut was balled up and fixedon the side. Censorship is the norm in mainland China. It takes courage and there is a price to be paid to be a hero. But for artists and curators, it takes wits to toe the line just so.

From Chinese to English, from the spoken word to sign language, from traditional to simplified Chinese characters, from images to text, Leung’s stock-in-trade is to pick and turnover the cultural significance of words, uncovering their different definitions and double entendres, running circles in the grey areas of the translatable/untranslatable. (In this endeavour, it would appear that the only true success was the lengthy English and traditional and simplified Chinese description of the works.) In the show, cross-cultural inquiries and conflicts were either intentionally or unintentionally, put through

translation that appeared to be of Latour’s Actor-Network theory. Despite the unsuccessful translation, residue is produced unintentionally, forming the two sides of a coin just like the double entendre of ‘Mine’. From theory to art, Leung Chi Wo, as an intellectual artist, is creating blue skies beyond the clouds out of this residue.

作者简介 CONTRIBUTORS

梁志和

1990 年毕业于香港中文大学艺术系，获文学士学位。毕业后到欧洲深造，在意大利修读摄影研究及在比利时博物馆实习。回港后到电视台工作，之后担任出版社编辑。 1995 年起在中大研究院深造， 1996 年共同友人在港创办 Para/Site 艺术空间。 1997 年获艺术硕士学位后，取得亚洲文化协会奖助金 1999 至 2000 年前往纽约留驻创作。 2001 年代表香港首次出展威尼斯艺术双年展。梁志和近年展览包括：英国曼彻斯特亚洲艺术三年展（ 2014 ）、德国杜塞尔多夫北威州论坛美术馆的“ China8 ” 展览（ 2015 ）、中国 OCAT 深圳馆的个人作品展（ 2015 ）及香港刺点画廊的个人作品展（ 2015 ）。梁志和现任教于香港城市大学创意媒体学院。

Leung Chi Wo Graduated with a BA in Fine Arts from the Chinese University of Hong Kong in 1990. After taking part in a short photography study program in Italy and a museum internship in Belgium, he returned to Hong Kong and worked briefly in a television station before joining a publishing house as an editor. In 1995, he decided to further his graduate studies at the Chinese University. In 1996, he cofounded the Para/Site art space in Hong Kong. Having earned his MFA in 1997, he was granted a fellowship from the Asian Cultural Council to reside in New York from 1999 to 2000. In 2001, he exhibited in Hong Kong’s first participation in the Venice Biennale. Leung’s recent exhibitions include Asia Triennial Manchester, UK (2014), “China 8” at NRW-Forum, Düsseldorf, Germany (2015), a solo exhibition at OCAT, Shenzhen, China (2015) and a solo exhibition at Blindspot Gallery, Hong Kong (2015). Leung now teaches in the School of Creative Media, City University of Hong Kong.

梁宝山殖民地最后一代大学生。读艺术，却以记者身份见证回归。浮游在艺术与政治之间。会教书、写作、研究、做饭、坐禅和上街。曾为“ Para/Site 艺术空间”、“独立媒体（香港）” 及“ 文化监察 ” 等成员。现为香港中文大学文化研究博士候选人。研究范围包括艺术劳动、城市空间及文化政治等。评论文章见于《信报》、《独立媒体》、《号外》、《艺术界》、《今艺术》等；编著有《殖民地的现代艺术 ─ 韩志勲千喜自述》、《七一孖你游香港》（白双全作品集）、《 Q[ 跷 ]K[ 蹊 ]

─ 陈育强标本集成》及《杨秀卓红色二十年》等。

Anthony Leung Po-shan Belonging to the last generation of university students under the colonial regime, Leung studied Fine Arts at the Chinese University of Hong Kong and yet witnessed the Handover as a reporter. Flâneuring through art and politics, she teaches, writes, researches, cooks, meditates and takes action to the streets. She was member of Para/ Site Art Space, Hong Kong In-Media and Hong Kong Culture Monitor. Currently, she is a PhD candidate in Cultural Studies at the Chinese University of Hong Kong. Her research interests include, among others, artistic labour, urban studies and cultural politics. Her essays and commentaries have been published in the Hong Kong Economic Journal, Hong Kong In-Media, City Magazine, LEAP, Artco and etc. Publications edited by her include Modern Art in a Colony: Narrated by Hon Chi-fun at the Millennium, Odd One In: Hong Kong Diary (by Pak Sheung-chuen), QK – Specimen Collection of Chan Yuk Keung, The Red Twenty-years of Ricky Yeung Sau-churk and etc.

卢迎华卢迎华毕业于瑞典伦德大学马尔默艺术学院的批评研究课程。她是《 Frieze 》艺术杂志特邀编辑，也是《展览主义者》编委会成员之一。她是德国 ZKM 艺术中心夏季研究基金的获得者和 2009 年“ 全球论坛 ” 的演讲者之一。 2013 年，她担任意大利 Museion 美术馆客座策展人，并获得泰特美术馆研究中心亚太计划的首个特邀研究学者奖金。

她曾受邀担任 2011 年威尼斯双年展金狮奖的评委，担任 2012 年第九届光州双年展的艺术总监之一，以及第七届深圳雕塑双年展的联合策展人。她是光洲亚洲文化基金会展览历史研究员，同时担任“亚洲：嘈杂的谐音”巡回展的联合策展人。目前，她与艺术家刘鼎正在开展一个题为“从艺术的问题到立场的问题：社会主义现实主义的回响”的研究，对叙述中国当代艺术的视角和方法论进行重新评估。

Carol Yinghua Lu Carol Yinghua Lu is a researcher, writer and curator. She is the contributing editor for Frieze since 2007, and is on the advisory board for The Exhibitionist: A Journal on Exhibition Making. She was the China researcher for Asia Art Archive (2005-2007). She was a fellow of the ZKM Summer Seminar 2009: Contemporary Art and the Global Age led by Hans Belting. In 2013, she was invited as the first visiting fellow of the Asia-Pacific department at Tate Research Centre.

Lu was on the jury for the Golden Lion Award in 2011 Venice Biennale and the coartistic director of 2012 Gwangju Biennale and co-curator of the 7th Shenzhen Sculpture Biennale in 2012. Lu co-directed the 5th Gwangju Biennale International Curator Course in 2014. She was the visiting professor for the 4th Gwangju Biennale International Curator Course in 2012. She is a researcher on Exhibition History for the Asian Cultural Complex in Gwangju. She is currently a co-curator of Discordant Harmony, a touring exhibition on the potential, challenges, problematics and impossibilities of imagining Asia. In collaboration with artist Liu Ding, she is in the process of researching into the legacy of socialist realism in the practice and discourse of contemporary art in China.

瞿畅研究生毕业于巴黎文化艺术管理学院（ IESA ）艺术文化管理专业。任“ 新作展 1 ：从艺术的问题到立场的问题：社会主义现实主义的回响”、“新视觉 2014| 多型演变：一次近距离观察”、“新作展 2 ：新刻度与钱喂康”策展助理，参与“万物有灵”、“ OCT 当代艺术中心藏品展 ” 等展览及其出版物的翻译和写作工作，并长期为《艺术当代》杂志、 99 艺术网撰稿，曾于 OCAT 深圳馆展览部工作，现任香港 Para Site 艺术空间副策展人。

Qu Chang Graduated with a MA from La grande écloe des métiers de la culture et du marché de l’art (IESA) in Paris, Qu Chang is the curatorial assistant of the exhibition New Works #1: From the Issue of Art to the Issue of Position: Echoes of Socialist Realism, New Vision 2014 | Polytypic Evolution: A Close-up Observation and New Works #2: Xin Kedu and Qian Weikang. She writes and translates for exhibitions including Animism and Art OCT. Qu is also a long-term contributing writer for Art China Magazine and 99 Art. She has worked in the exhibition department of OCAT Shenzhen and now is Associate Curator of Para Site in Hong Kong.

作品

WORKS

Untitled ( Traveler ’s Series )

城市与神话 City and its myth

新界火炭明胶银版冲印一套 4 张、每张 40.5 x 40.5 厘米

1993-1996

Fo Tan, New Territories Gelatin silver print Set of 4, each 40.5 x 40.5cm 1993-1996

90 年代初期，梁志和从意大利回到香港，尝试模仿 19 世纪旅行摄影家的方式，以游览者的角度，用针孔摄影的方式记录香港的城市景观。这些摄影作品将目光投向香港的建筑，有趣的是， 20 余年后的现在，这些摄影中的许多地方已不复存在。在意大利学习摄影期间，梁志和的老师，保罗 · 吉奥利（ Paolo Gioli ） — 意大利重要的实验电影导演及针孔摄影家 — 为他对针孔摄影的思考提供了决定性的背景。作为一个没有镜头的摄影装置，针孔摄影机对光源的直接收集不同于常用相机镜头对光的变形处理，因此它所拍摄的图像在梁志和看来构成了“誠实”的记录，然而，其夸张的透视效果在视觉上的“不真实”所形成的吊诡，促使艺术家在摄影及其它媒介的创作中触碰这种充满矛盾与冲突的主题。

Untitled (Traveler ’s Series) This is the first body of work developed by Leung Chi Wo after his study of photography in Italy in 1991. Fascinated by 19th Century photographers who traveled with heavy equipment, he tried to adopt a visitor’s view at buildings and places in Hong Kong. What is interesting is that more than 20 years later, many of the places in these photographs no longer exist. Inspired by Italian artist and filmmaker Paolo Gioli’s experimentation on pinhole camera, Leung contemplated the photographic representation of pinhole cameras, which created exaggerated or distorted images however without lens that distorts light ray. He considers the images captured by a pinhole camera to be an “honest” record while its effect of exaggerated perspective visually creates a paradox of the “unreal”, prompting the artist to touch on the themes of contradiction and conflict in his photography and other artistic works.

Untitled ( Traveler ’s Series )

城市与神话 City and its myth

新界大围明胶银版冲印

40.5 x 40.5 厘米 1994

Tai Wai, New Territories Gelatin silver print 40.5 x 40.5cm 1994

Those no longer in reality, did not look real.

Untitled ( Traveler ’s Series )

城市与神话 City and its myth

新界和合石公众坟场明胶银版冲印

40.5 x 40.5 厘米 1994

Wo Hop Shek Public Cemetery, New Territories Gelatin silver print 40.5 x 40.5cm 1994

这是我上一趟到访这个坟场。之前，特别是在我童年，扫墓是家族每年最大型的聚会，我可以见很多跟我年纪差不多的堂亲。而这一次只有我跟我父母，以往同行的亲戚都移民到北美了。我没有想过这拍出来的针孔照片会看似废墟，但它的确让我想起费利斯 · 比特。

主观记忆 Subjective memory

不确定性的文字和语言 Text and language of uncertainty

梁氏针孔相机（16 x 16 制式）木料、磁铁、钢、铜

50 x 47 x 13 厘米 1995

Leung’s Pinhole Camera (16 x 16 Format) Wood, magnet, steel & brass 50 x 47 x 13 cm 1995

That time I brought it to Warren Street in Tai Hang for exposure for around 45 min. I laid it on the floor pointing to the sky and then I was just busy watching around. In 15 min. someone dared to grab it. When I noticed. It was already 10 m away. Fortunately I got it back.

《梁氏针孔相机》是一台需要 20 分钟至两小时曝光时间的摄像装置，这台既没有镜头也没有取景框的“相机”一定程度上

绝了艺术家的参与 — 他既不能准确预测拍摄效果，也无法进行任何干

预 — 然而在等待曝光的漫长时间中，拍摄者有机会对拍摄空间进行更为真实的观看。相机外壳刻着意大利文“ Invisibile ”（不可见）与“ Visibile ”（可见），暗示着可见的拍摄景观，与不可见的时间流逝，以及拍摄者与空间的故事。同时，相机内部篆刻着的艺术家的名字，同样默默诉说着这种不受人为控制的摄影方式中满溢的个人化表达。

Leung’s Pinhole Camera produced images with long exposure varying from 20 minutes to 2 hours. Without viewfinder, the artist was not able to anticipate the exact result. The camera in a way functioned independently from the artist who could nevertheless concentrate on his substantial observation of the place. What is visible in the picture only represented a small fraction of the artist experience of the production that is largely invisible. The case of the camera is inscribed with the Italian words “invisibile” and “visibile”, implying the visible image being shot and the invisible passage of time and the story of the photographer and the space. The name of the artist, engraved inside the camera and invisible to the audience here, subtly echoes the very personal engagement of photography, which could be only imagined but not seen.

主观记忆 Subjective memory

不确定性的文字和语言 Text and language of uncertainty

李宝龙梦照片，钢质框架，木刻，电线，灯泡尺寸可变

1996 年

Dream of a Path Photos, steel frame, wood engraving, electric cable, light bulbs Dimensions variable 1996

为什么一个老面店的菜单会令你怀旧？是有光还是没有光令你感到满意？

這是 Para/Site 第一次展览的装置作品，当时是位於一条小小的楼梯街上的一个空置店铺，指涉對该空间过去的想象，艺术家以摄影作为诗意的连结，他认为摄影是可以与历史产生关联的媒介。两个面對面的黑箱挂着拍于店外的影像。在此文字帶有双重涵义 — 关于摄影和地道食肆 — 艺术家初次到访这个商店空间时所想象的功能。由黑箱伸出的灯泡让艺术家对盒子里帮助犮光的电流投以好奇幻想。一张放大了的面店菜单直接刻凿在两个暗箱中间的地上，并于展览结束时被毁掉。

The first installation made at Para/Site in a derelict storefront space in a small ladder street, it refers to a fictional past of the site, superimposed with the poetic association with photography, a medium that the artist sees its link with history. Two dark boxes allude to the camera and on their front are the images of the space outside Para/Site. Words signifying the double meaning of photography and a local eatery—the function of the store space that the artist once imagined when he first visited it. With the light bulbs lined out from the boxes, it was the artist’s curiosity to envisage the activity inside the box of the electric current that fuelled the light. There was also an enlarged noodle shop menu directly engraved on the concrete floor between these two boxes and was destroyed when the exhibition ended.

主观记忆 Subjective memory

不确定性的文字和语言 Text and language of uncertainty

无题（城西梦续）油墨

本

5 张，各 52 x 232 厘米 1996 年

Untitled (After Dream of a Path) Oil rubbing on paper Set of five, each 52 x 232 cm 1996

这是《李宝龙梦》（ 1996 ）中面档餐牌石刻的

本。因为空间的迁徙，对艺术家来说，这不单是作

品的文献，也是艺术空间的文献。

Referring to the destroyed engraving of a noodle shop menu of Dream of a Path (1996), this rubbing also serves as a document of a displaced art space.

Untitled ( Traveler ’s Series )

城市与神话 City and its myth

铜锣湾莲花街明胶银版冲印

40.5 x 40.5 厘米 1997

Lily Street, Causeway Bay Gelatin silver print 40.5 x 40.5cm 1997

Untitled ( Traveler ’s Series )

城市与神话 City and its myth

九龙土瓜湾明胶银版冲印

40.5 x 40.5 厘米 1997

To Kwa Wan, Kowloon Gelatin silver print 40.5 x 40.5cm 1997

城市与神话 City and its myth

不确定性的文字和语言 Text and language of uncertainty

空间的视角 Perceptive space

域多利之顛木、钢、塑胶玻璃和照片

100 x 100 x 130 厘米 1997

Peak of Victoria Wood, steel, plexiglas & photographs 100 x 100 x 130 cm 1997

The first time I heard of the Pyramid Power, however it was unbelievable; I found it not a bad idea to be able to adjust the length of a life only depending on the form of objects. I have made four pyramids. The first one was a pinhole camera in form of a pyramid but I have never loaded any film in it. The second one was an open pyramid in which photos of Sheung Wan and my home were set. The third one was a combination of two pyramidal pinhole cameras connected at their bases. No photos were taken but images captured from both cameras were superimposed inside. The last one was Peak Victoria. Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s difficult to prove the myth but if we simply maintain death as dead, we donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t bother to prove anyway.

在香港太平山頂的凌霄阁外面分别从五个角度（四个方向和天空）所拍摄的五张针孔照片，根据曝光方向排列构成一个金字塔型装置，上方有开口，观众可以借助一个手电筒看到里面的图片。

Five pinhole photographs were taken at 5 views (4 directions and the sky) outside the Peak Tower on Victoria Peak of Hong Kong and were installed according to their exposing directions as a pyramid with a small opening. Audience could see the pictures inside with an electric torch provided.

城市与神话 City and its myth

不确定性的文字和语言 Text and language of uncertainty

域多利木刻

198 x 137 厘米 1997

Wik Dor Lei (Land of Profits) Wood engraving 198 x 137 cm 1997

这个木刻以传统香港商业大厦的水牌（楼层索引牌）形式罗列了全香港以利字为名的商业大厦，但其英文却并非翻译，所包含意思广阔，由历史人物到大众幸福都有，反映命名者的兴趣和不同语言文化的取向。

This bilingual listing of names of commercial buildings in Hong Kong, in form of traditional directory in the foyer of commercial buildings, contains no translation. Names in different languages serve the interest of different user. The meaning of the Chinese names here refers to profit-making in general where the English ones cover more diversity from history to happiness.

Untitled ( Traveler ’s Series )

城市与神话 City and its myth

中环下亚里毕道明胶银版冲印

40.5 x 40.5 厘米 1998

Lower Albert Road, Central Gelatin silver print 40.5 x 40.5cm 1998

（△艺术家□行政）艺术—娱乐（枢纽）一处想当艺术家的学生见艺术家的地方幻想之地！

Untitled ( Traveler ’s Series )

城市与神话 City and its myth

九龙牛池湾明胶银版冲印

40.5 x 40.5 厘米 1998

Ngau Chi Wan, Kowloon Gelatin silver print 40.5 x 40.5cm 1998

Colour Photo Series

城市与神话 City and its myth

空间的视角 Perceptive space

钱伯斯彩色沖印

152.5 x 101.5 厘米 1999

Chambers C-print 152.5 x 101.5 cm 1999

“ 彩色照片系列 ” 是梁志和开始于 1999 年的一个项目：他使用彩色沖印技术对黑白摄影胶片进行亦或传统亦或数码的图像处理，并通过彩色滤镜完成图片的最终效果。在拍摄过程中，他亦或平移镜头、亦或改变摄影角度以完成对视角的转换。通过对黑白相片的色彩处理，梁志和将介于物与物之间的“ 负空间 ”，即相片中的天空，处理为构图中的主体，进而颠覆我们感受城市空间的惯式。作为这个系列的作品之一，《钱伯斯》取材自纽约曼哈顿下城的街道钱伯斯。

Colour Photo Series is a body of work developed since 1999 to print colour photographs with black & white negative. During the printing process (both analogue and digital), colour filters were employed to achieve the final colours. Multiple shots were made by panning the camera or changing the position of the tripod for a shift of perception. As one from this series, Chambers was photographed in Chambers Street of Manhattan. By playing with color filters on black and white images, Leung Chi Wo converted the negative space that lies between objects, i.e. the sky, into the subject of the photo, overturning the paradigm of our perception of city space.

城市与神话 City and its myth

空间的视角 Perceptive space

钱伯斯积木纸板

177 x 52 x 25 厘米 1999

Chambers Blocks Cardboard 177 x 52 x 25 cm 1999

The beginning of a city was totally unexpected. Rotterdam looks like a city for a population of 3 million. Chance has become anticipated, perhaps for designers, perhaps for users.

《钱伯斯积木》是“彩色照片系列”作品《钱伯斯》之后梁志和创作的雕塑，象征着一个混沌的城市模型。

Produced after Chambers the colour photograph, Chambers Blocks is a sculpture resembling a chaotic city model.

Photo Collage Series

城市与神话 City and its myth

空间的视角 Perceptive space

华伦向东明胶银版冲印、耳环

50 x 50 厘米 1999

Warren to East Gelatin silver prints & earring 50 x 50 cm 1999

我年约十岁，是一个幼童军，我姐给我一个别名 Warren 。逢周日我都参与童军活动，不过跟我这英文名字没有关系，即使童军团属基督教。或许就是感觉良好吧！名字通常是父母给的，不能改，但为了小小年纪要自己有一点掌控，我就让姐姐给我多一个。 It was my first time to hear from the Scout Oath the word “my country”, or “local” as it was translated in Chinese that I learnt.

“ 照片拼贴系列 ” 是一组大部分完成于 1999 年的作品，梁志和将摄影作品进行裁剪，仅留下以建筑屋顶为边框的城市天空轮廓。他亦使用多张照片记录多个道路交叉口的天际线，并在裁剪后将这些天际轮廓拼贴起来。作品中，他通过题目说明天空轮廓所在的具体街道，同时也通过街道名称在拼贴过程中产生的意外巧合进一步暗示着个人、地方以及历史的关联。

Photo Collage Series is a body of work made mainly in 1999. Leung Chi Wo cropped a number of photographs, leaving only the roofs of the buildings to form a city skyline. Many shots are used to document consecutive road intersections and after cropping these skylines are made into a collage. The titles are made to explain the specific streets that form the skyline; meanwhile he uses the naming of the street as part of the coincidence of making the collage to further imply a connection between the individual, the place and history.

Photo Collage Series

城市与神话 City and its myth

空间的视角 Perceptive space

华伦向西明胶银版冲印、耳环

49 x 48.5 厘米 1999

Warren to West Gelatin silver prints & earring 49 x 48.5 cm 1999

兔穴

City Cookie Series

城市与神话 City and its myth

空间的视角 Perceptive space

创造城市曲奇（与黄志恒合作）中密度纤维板包裹人工皮革，IRIS 彩印，铝合金饼干模具

15 x 15 x 95 厘米 2000

Making City Cookie ( in collaboration with Sara Wong ) MDF finished with artificial leather, Iris print, aluminium cookie cutters 15 x 15 x 95 cm 2000

“ 城市曲奇 ” 是梁志和与香港艺术家黄志恒自 1999 年起共同创作的一个项目，持续多年。作品基于一个简单的概念：将曲奇饼干制作成都市的天空轮廓。在不同的阶段，作品会与不同的地域、观众及文化发生关系。“ 城市曲奇 ” 曾在包括纽约、多伦多、上海、威尼斯和香港在内的多个城市取材并展出。《创造城市曲奇》是“城市曲奇”项目的首个作品，以纽约乜街（ Mott Street ）道上八个交叉路口上空轮廓为原型制作了饼干模具。

“City Cookie” is a series in collaboration with Hong Kong artist Sara Wong. Based on a simple idea of making biscuits in the shape of urban skylines, the development of the project is more often responses to different audiences and cultures. This project has been widely exhibited in different cities including New York, Toronto, Tokyo, Shanghai, Oslo, Venice and Hong Kong. Making City Cookie is the first work from the series, containing eight cookie cutters referring all the intersections along Mott Street in New York.

City Cookie Series

城市与神话 City and its myth

空间的视角 Perceptive space

上海城市曲奇（与黄志恒合作）无声循环录像

13 分 16 秒 2000

City Cookie of Shanghai ( in collaboration with Sara Wong )

Looped silent video 13 min 16 sec 2000

Sara 的路线等等

《上海城市曲奇》则呈现一种莫名其妙的処境，观众可以从中看到城市天空轮廓转化为曲奇的过程，以及艺术家黄志恒在不断咀嚼饼干的图像。

City Cookie Series of Shanghai shows the graphical transformation of the skyline into the biscuit referring four specific locations of Shanghai and the tedious consumption of the biscuit by the artist.

城市与神话 City and its myth

空间的视角 Perceptive space

谈天照片貼有机玻璃、木质桌子、钢及有机玻璃吊灯尺寸可変

2000

Talking Sky Plexiglas-mounted photos, wooden tables, steel and plexiglas chandeliers Dimensions variable 2000

《谈天》是为上海双年展创作的一件供观众“谈天”（在英文中有“说话天空”的意义，在中文中则意为“ 聊天 ”）的休息空间。这件装置作品以一个红酒吧的形式出现，空间内的四个圆桌上以亚克力板压着四张艺术家拍摄的上海城市景观，桌子上方的四盏吊灯与桌面上天际线的轮廓一致，观众可以在桌面上观察到和图像相重叠的天景轮廓。空间一角播放的视屏是《上海城市曲奇》。梁志和对天空的拍摄与关注开始于 1999 年旅居纽约期间，在陌生的环境中，人们倾向于将建筑作为地标以判断方位的习惯，促使他思考感知城市空间的其它可能。作为“ 负空间 ”（ negative

space ）的天空成为他跳出惯式的出口，并催生出一系列试图变“负”为“正”的创作尝试。

Talking Sky, specially created for Shanghai Biennale 2000, is a resting place for visitors to “talk about sky” which means chatting literally in Chinese. As a wine bar installation, the artist served wine in the opening. People could socialize around the urbanscapes of Shanghai laminated on the tabletop. Four chandeliers above each table were made in the same shape of the skyline below. Audience can see its reflection overlaying its skyline. The video playing at the corner is City Cookie of Shanghai which complements the lively situation. Leung Chi Wo’s interest in the sky started in 1999 while living in New York City. In an unfamiliar environment, the habit that people tend to locate themselves through architecture makes him ponder alternative possibilities of city space. Thus, the sky becomes a “negative space”—an exit that allows Leung to jump out of rituals, and to create a series of artworks that transforms negatives into positives.

Photo Collage Series

城市与神话 City and its myth

空间的视角 Perceptive space

南京遇山西明膠銀版沖印

62 x 59 厘米 2000

Nanjing meets Shanxi Gelatin silver prints 62 x 59 cm 2000

In Shanghai, Nanjing is next to Shanxi, only a locality in a locality. In one place, one who walks from one place to another place still remains in one place.

Photo Collage Series

城市与神话 City and its myth

空间的视角 Perceptive space

皇后水坑口明胶银版冲印

55 x 60 厘米 2002

Queen’s Possession Gelatin silver prints 55 x 60 cm 2002

不同景观— 1993 年我造了第一个金字塔照片

城市与神话 City and its myth

空间的视角 Perceptive space

袋鼠岛大开发录像

7 分钟 2003

The Great Development of Smythe Kangaroo Island Video 7min 2003

梁志和以在墨尔本中国城的史密斯道上所拍摄的天际线为蓝本，使用袋鼠皮、海绵等材料按照照片中天空的轮廓而创作了一个想象中的城市“ 袋鼠岛 ”，并将为时六小时的制作过程记录成录像，编辑为时长六分钟的影像。艺术家曾经这样描述过这件作品背后的想法，“ 我不知道史密斯是谁，只猜想其貌不扬的小路上有多少代香港移民走过，他们在这里落户，下一代总往外边跑，越迁越远。从市中心的老旧区跑到城郊，是新盖的花园洋房，把旧城的狭窄空间无限扩大，好像要弥补几辈子人的缺失，或许是要远离前人的价值，又或许是建构上一代无法想象的空间。”

Leung Chi Wo developed this project based on a photo of the skyline taken at Smythe Lane in the Chinatown of Melbourne. He used materials such as kangaroo skin and sponge to build an imaginary city “Kangaroo Island” with a contour modeled after the sky in the original photo. In addition, he made a video recording of the six-hour production process, and edited it into a six-minute clip. The artist once described the thoughts behind this work: “I had no idea who Smythe was but only wondered how many immigrants from Hong Kong had been here. It is an old neighborhood in the city and you would imagine only the older generations lived here. The very cramped home could be only transient. The suburbia might be the destination for better life and more space, or simply a disconnection from the past.”

不确定性的文字和语言 Text and language of uncertainty

我的小小艺术界 My small art world

空间的视角 Perceptive space

CC 办公桌特制木桌子、椅子、闭路电视、玻璃杯 ( 含水 )、书本尺寸可変

2004

CC Bureau Wooden table of aluminum & formica-finish, chairs, closed-circuit cameras & monitors, glasses of water, books Dimensions variable 2004

一位 — 被看守 — 一位 — 被看守

《 CC 办公室》取材于梁志和在香港文化中心拍摄的天际线。作为对政府官僚制度这片另类空间的隐喻，梁志和将天际线轮廓制作成一张办公桌，在桌面两端安装闭路电视，并将监视器藏于玻璃水杯下，供办公人员在喝水时暗自相互监视。桌面上放有两本对《香港文化中心租用条款》文字的重新分解：所有标点符号都被删除，词句被重新断开，一本为英文，一本为中文。随作品一同出现的还将有一次现场表演，两位“办公人员”将对解构后的条款进行 20 分钟的朗读。作品源自梁志和 2004 年 8 月受教统局邀请参与的一个为中小学美术教师而设的展览，在香港文化中心展览厅举行。艺术家在这一经历中所体验的各种障碍促使他将僵化的官僚制度与戏剧化的艺术呈现进行荒诞的结合。在 2015 年 5 月 23 日下午 3 点， OCAT 深圳馆的 A 展厅里，两名表演者来再次诠释这件作品。

CC Bureau is based on the vertical skyline taken from the Hong Kong Cultural Centre. As an alternative metaphor of bureaucracy, the contour of the skyline has been transformed into a large desk (bureau), big enough for two people. People working there can see each other through the monitors fitted underneath the glass right next to them. On the table, The Terms and Conditions of Hire of the Hong Kong Cultural Centre was “deconstructed” by moving away all punctuations and randomly splitting the original words and sentences. It was redesigned in verse, and was read in a live performance by the “officers”. This piece comes from an exhibition for primary and middle school’s art teachers that took place at the Hong Kong Cultural Centre. Leung was invited by the Education Bureau. The obstacles the artist went through in the process inspired him to combine the rigidity of the bureaucracy with dramatized artistic expression and a hint of absurdity. On the May 23th, 2015 at 3pm at Hall A of the OCAT Shenzhen, two performers staged this work for another time.

Domestica Invisibile Series

空间的视角 Perceptive space

家居隐事 #1, #2, #3, #5, #6, #7, #9, #10 彩色沖印各 120 x 150 厘米

2005

Domestica Invisibile #1, #2, #3, #5, #6, #7, #9, #10 C-print 120 x 150 cm each 2005

固定结构—不可见的—视野—不可见的我们不见我们不想见

“家居隐事”系列开始于 2004 年，是一項持续数年的计划，它的英文题目暗示對情色艺术的联想。梁志和拜访了 80 多个家庭，大部分都是他完全陌生的。随着对每个居住空间的拍摄以及对生活者访问的展开，作品从研究家居的物理空间为起始，逐渐发展为对生活在建筑空间中的人的考察。空间的拍摄因此在某种意义上转变为人的肖像反映，对家居空间的摄影也逐渐产生出一丝“窥私”的意味。

Titled after erotica, the Domestica Invisibile series started in 2004 and had continued for a few years. The artist visited over 80 households that were mostly complete strangers to him. Besides taking photos of their homes, dwellers were interviewed for their ideas of home. Gradually the project has shifted from a study of physical space to the observation of human activities there. Thus the photography of space in some senses has become a reflection or even a portrait of each person who lived there. And such a close-up viewing of private domestic spaces also unavoidably implied a sense of voyeurism.

我的小小艺术界 My small art world

空间的视角 Perceptive space

后宜家陈列品现成物品，中纖板制白色聚酯家具

200 x 230 x 150 厘米 2005

Post-Ikea Display Various ready-made objects, MDF with high-gloss white foil finish 200 x 230 x 150 cm 2005

借正为负，反之亦然。

《后宜家陈列品》将着眼点投向了“ 家居隐事系列 ” 中各种不得已而为之的储物空间：桌椅下、角落的柜子上…局促的家居空间与非常规的储物方式促使梁志和反思社会从商品生产角度解决问题的取向。套用对普遍消费品生产目标“为您设计需求”（ We Design Your Need ）的观察，梁志和将来自“家居隐事系列”中的 8 个非常规储物空间进行测量，并以宜家家具的制作方式生产出八个相应的木制白色聚酯储物单元，对这些权宜的储物空间进行“合法化”处理。这件作品原是梁志和受广州三年展委约的创作，原作品中储物盒里的物品以广东美术馆办公室的杂物来填满。本次展览中，八件储物家具中填满的是 OCAT 深圳馆办公室中收集回来的。

Post-Ikea Display turns its attention to those storage spaces of last resort seen in the Domestica Invisibile series—under tables and chairs, on corner cupboards... Cramped homes and unconventional ways of storage prompted Leung Chi Wo to rethink about the trend in our society—solving problems by means of commodity production in which the spirit “We Design Your Need” is not uncommon to boost more consumption. Leung measured out those spaces stuffed with various things found in his Domestica Invisibile photo series. Appropriating the assembly style of Ikea furniture, he produced eight corresponding storage units, “legitimizing” the use of spaces that were certainly not designed for storage. This work was originally commissioned by the Guangzhou Triennial and was filled with various objects from the office of the Guangdong Museum of Art. For this exhibition, all the objects are from the office of the OCAT Shenzhen.

?LDK Series

我的小小艺术界 My small art world

空间的视角 Perceptive space

?LDK #20 彩色冲印

150 x 120 厘米 2005

?LDK #20 C-print 150 x 120 cm 2005

风笛

“ ?LDK 系列 ” 是“ 家居隱事系列 ” 的延伸，是梁志和於日本札晃留駐期間的創作，探索當地的居住情況，而當中有不少是從日本其他地方單身移居到札晃的人。“ ?LDK ”其實是當地物業代理對公基本設計的描述， ? 是房間數目， L 是起居室， D 是用歺室， K 是廚房。此照片攝於村岸宏昭的臥室，他是“降落伞与村岸系列”的主角。

?LDK is an extension of the Domestica Invisibile Series taken in Sapporo by Leung Chi Wo as his artist-in-residence project. It looks into the living situation of the people there who mostly however moved from other parts of Japan. ?LDK stands for the description of an apartment by property agents in Sapporo (? for no. of rooms, L for living, D for dinning and K for kitchen.) This photo features the bedroom of Hiroaki Muraghishi who has become an inspiration for the Jonathan & Muragishi Series.

Domestica Invisibile Series

我的小小艺术界 My small art world

空间的视角 Perceptive space

家居隐事 #20 彩色冲印

150 x 120 厘米 2006

Domestica Invisibile #20 C-print 150 x 120 cm 2006

此照片摄于美籍作家降落伞于香港的家居，是“降落伞与村岸系列”的切入点。

This photo was taken at American writer Jonathan Napack’s home in Hong Kong and has become a point of entry for the Jonathan & Muragishi Series.

城市与神话 City and its myth

空间的视角 Perceptive space

积木游戏录像

3 分钟 2006

Block Game Video 3min 2006

《积木游戏》中，梁志和使用了一批积木将屋内传统的中式窗框完全的填补起来，其后，他又慢慢将窗框上的积木一块块取下，在室内桌面上搭建一个想象中的城市景观 —城市景观的逐渐成型与变化伴随着窗景的扩展和日夜交替下的光线更迭，构成了一组相互作用且彼此制约的景观角力。《积木游戏》为梁志和受邀在上海青浦创作的作品，在作品进行期间，梁志和始终开启着安装在室内的摄像机，因而也捕捉下了当地工人经过、围观、介入创作空间的情景。

The frame of the classical Chinese window was filled up with wooden blocks which were then made use for building a pseudio-architectural model. The making of this “townscape” is out of the changing light/darkness of the “windowscape”. A video covering the whole process including the interaction between the artist and those who run into the scene is projected underneath the wooden model.

不确定性的文字和语言 Text and language of uncertainty

我的小小艺术界 My small art world

HKABE2005 木板雕刻、录像表演尺寸可变（ 1 6 塊木板，每塊 5 0 x 7 0 厘米；录像長 6 分钟）

2006

HKABE2005 Wood engraving, video performance Dimensions variable (16 panels, each 50 x 70cm; video, 6 min) 2006

2005 年的夏天梁志和被非正式邀请为香港双年展评审之一，不过他没有接受这一邀请，他继而对规则与艺术之间的关系进行思考：在强调游戏规则的竞赛里，公平公开跟艺术价值和品位到底是什么关系？如果评审员可以代替策展人，参展规则是否可以替代艺术品？梁志和将双年展的《参赛细则》英文版进行倒序重写，更新了分段、分句和标点，将之转换为难以读懂的文本，其发音与形态类似某种欧洲语言，或是被拉丁化了的亚洲、太平洋方言。这一文本成为梁志和作为“评审员“的致辞和评语，同时也是他作为“艺术家”的作品。

Early in the summer of 2005, Leung Chi Wo was informally invited to be one of the jurors for the Hong Kong Art Biennial Exhibition; an invitation he relinquished. As a result of this, he contemplated the relationship between openness, fairness, taste and artistic value in a competition in which game rules are implemented. Whereas curators are taken over by jurors, can rules substitute art? Leung transformed The Terms and Conditions of the Biennial into a reversely spelt reproduction with a new arrangement of paragraphs, sentences and punctuations, whose format and pronunciations are similar to an unfamiliar European, Romanized Asian or Pacific language. His contribution was not only as the artist who produced artworks, but also as the “juror” with his foreword to the exhibition.

城市与神话 City and its myth

不确定性的文字和语言 Text and language of uncertainty

维多利亚的囹圄 #1, #2, #3, #4 彩色冲印每张 110 x 90 厘米

2006

Prison of Victoria #1, #2, #3, #4 C-print Each 110 x 90 cm 2006

梁志和参观于 2005 年关闭的香港域多利监狱，并在监狱内进行了拍摄。空无一人的监狱所呈现的怪异氛围，与监狱中的种种设置（有米奇老鼠卡通形象的监狱幼儿园、监狱餐厅中的开放式吸烟空间及厕所等等）共同构成了一种不可名状的荒谬感。梁志和将作品命名为“维多利亚的囹圄” （ Prison

of Victoria ）而非监狱的本名“域多利监狱”（ Victoria Prison ）同样以文字游戏的方式创造着对监狱的多重解读。建造于 1841 年的维多利亚监狱据称是第一座在香港建成的西方建筑，来到一块陌生的土地的殖民者们首先盖起的是一座监狱这一事实本身，同样呈现出梁志和一直试图在作品中描述的荒谬性。

Leung Chi Wo once visited the Victoria Prison which was decommissioned in 2005 and took photographs inside the prison. The eerie atmosphere in the empty prison and its various facilities (kindergarten with images of Mickey Mouse, the open smoking areas and restrooms located in the prison canteen, etc.) created an absurdity almost unintelligible. Leung named this series “Prison of Victoria” instead of using the actual name “Victoria Prison”, trying to suggest multiple interpretations of prison with the play on words. It is said that the Victoria Prison, built in 1841, is the first western style building in Hong Kong. The fact that this first building by colonial settlers is a prison shows exactly the absurdity that Leung has been attempting to present in his work.

不确定性的文字和语言 Text and language of uncertainty

我不喜欢我的名字（谷歌搜索 / 百度搜索）文件夹、A4 彩色喷墨打印各 32 x 29 x 7.5 厘米

2007 / 2015

I Don’t Like My Name (Google Search / Baidu Search) Ring binder, A4-size ink-jet print 32 x 29 x 7.5cm each 2007 / 2015

命名的自由

《我不喜欢我的名字（百度搜索）》是梁志和 2007 年作品《我不喜欢我的名字（谷歌搜索）》的延续。他在谷歌搜索引擎上以关键字“我不喜欢我的名字”进行搜索，并将搜索到的文本进行挑选、整理与展示。本次展览中，梁志和将在部分地区被限制使用的谷歌换为中国常用的百度，以相同的方式调查“姓名”在不同区域及文化中与个人的关系。 “名字”是梁志和创作中的另一个关键词，这一存在、沿袭于普通人的“政治”，通过家庭权力向每一个人进行分配。《我不喜欢我的名字》可以被看做梁志和对命名系统进行的一次日常考察。在《我的名字叫维多利亚》中，梁志和继续通过“名字”考察家庭以及家庭之外的历史与政治。

I Don’t Like My Name (Baidu Search) is a new Chinese version of Leung Chi Wo’s I Don’t Like My Name (Google Search) from 2007. He made searches for the phrase “I don’t like my name” on Google, and then selected, organized and displayed some of the results. For this new version, Leung used China’s popular Baidu search engine instead of Google, which is blocked in some regions, to investigate the relationship between the individual and the “name” in different cultures and regions. “Name”, another keyword in Leung’s research, is given to each one of us in form of politics of common people implying our familial hierarchy. I Don’t Like My Name can be seen as an everyday study of the system of naming. In My Name is Victoria, Leung Chi Wo continues to address the notion of “name” with respect to the politics and history inside/outside of the family.

不确定性的文字和语言 Text and language of uncertainty

我的小小艺术界 My small art world

梁志和的天空彩色沖印一套 6 张，每张 40 x 50cm

2007

Sky by Liang Zhihe C-print Set of 6, each 40 x 50cm 2007

在中国内地的展览中，梁志和的英文名字常被按照拼音规则写作“ Liang Zhihe ”，而非他原有按照广东话发音的“ Leung Chi Wo ”。《梁志和的天空》创作于香港回归十周年，是梁志和在工作室屋顶拍摄的 6 张仰视天空的照片。他在每张照片上用钢笔签上名字“ Liang Zhihe ”，而非“ Leung

Chi Wo ”，仿佛为自己创造了一个既是本人又非本人的身份。

In exhibitions held in Mainland China, the artist’s name has been often written as “Liang Zhihe” in Chinese Pinyin spelling, completely different from his “Leung Chi Wo” that is based on Cantonese pronunciation. Sky of Liang Zhihe, created in the 10th anniversary of the return of Hong Kong to China, is a set of 6 photographs taken at the rooftop of Leung Chi Wo’s studio of the sky. Leung signs his name as “Liang Zhihe” on every photo, as if he created an identity that is him, but not exactly.

不确定性的文字和语言 Text and language of uncertainty

符语高清录像

13 分钟，部分旡声，英语字幕 2008 年

Sign HD video 13 min, partially silent, English subtitle 2008

在我的预期、感知和理解之间的一点点

《符语》继续探索的是梁志和对语言的实验，涉及非主流的沟通形式以及传媒泛滥所催生的现实意义。作品的第一部分呈现了一位手语教师讨论并教授在澳洲手语中与父母与婴儿手语沟通的方法，在作品的第二部分中，一位母亲通过澳洲手语在慈爱安详的氛围中与她的孩子沟通，她所表达的词汇从惯常的母婴表达到艺术家在澳洲当地保守派报纸中选择的具有现实意义甚至暴力涵义的名词，创造出一种存在冲突的、精神分裂式的情景。词汇的选择来自于《堪培拉时报》。

Sign is a 2-part video work by Leung Chi Wo exploring the idea of non-mainstream communication and the meaning of human reality overloaded by mass media. Part I is an educational video featuring deaf teacher Laisarn(Laisarn Leong) and her shadow(Belle Reily) about the idea of baby signs in Auslan(Australian Sign Language) and the demonstration of basic signs with which parents can actually learn to communicate with their children whoever deaf or hearing. Part II is a fictional video showing a young mother in communication with her baby in Auslan. In spite of a peaceful and pleasant atmosphere, the mother tries to convey the words that she comes across every day, which can be harsh or discomforting. The juxtaposition of loving expression and hostile meaning depicts a surrealistic scene of our schizophrenic world. The vocabulary here is chosen from The Canberra Times.

Work Space Series

我的小小艺术界 My small art world

空间的视角 Perceptive space

继梁志和于 2004-2007 年创作的“家居隐事”系列，“工作空间”系列以类似的手法调查艺术机构的办公空间，以及在当代亚洲艺术机构的发展中个人与集体之间充满意趣的关系。与“ 家居隐事 ” 相似，这组摄影作品同样关注着人与空间、现实与象征，看与被看，记录与窥视、主与客、观者与拍摄者、公共与私人等一系列复杂的关联。

Work Space Series Following Leung Chi Wo’s Domestica Invisibile series (2004-2007), Work Space series adopts a similar investigative method to focus on the office space of art institutions and the curious relationship between the individual and the collective in the development of contemporary art organizations in Asia. Similarly, as in Domestica Invisibile, this group of photographs examines the complex relationships between man and space, reality and symbolism, to see and to be seen, documentary and voyeurism, host and guest, audience and photographer, and public and private.

Work Space Series

我的小小艺术界 My small art world

空间的视角 Perceptive space

东京 AIT 艺术空間彩色沖印

120 x 150 厘米 2008

Arts Initiative Tokyo C-print 120 x 150 cm 2008

Work Space Series

我的小小艺术界 My small art world

空间的视角 Perceptive space

西贡 ALBB 艺术空间彩色沖印

120 x 150 厘米 2008

a little blah blah, Saigon C-print 120 x 150 cm 2008

一个艺术家一个艺术空间

Work Space Series

我的小小艺术界 My small art world

空间的视角 Perceptive space

上海比翼艺术中心彩色沖印

120 x 150 厘米 2008

BizArt, Shanghai C-print 120 x 150 cm 2008

地方性区域性国际性全球性中国＋－ ( 中国 ) 生产—流通—消费—传播—铨释—欣赏—持有—收藏—购买—估值—贬值—通胀—建设—毁坏

Work Space Series

我的小小艺术界 My small art world

空间的视角 Perceptive space

日惹 Cemeti 艺术之家彩色沖印

120 x 150 厘米 2008

Cemeti Art House, Yogyakarta C-print 120 x 150 cm 2008

Work Space Series

我的小小艺术界 My small art world

空间的视角 Perceptive space

首尔 Loop 另类空间彩色沖印

120 x 150 厘米 2008

Alternative Space Loop, Seoul C-print 120 x 150 cm 2008

Work Space Series

我的小小艺术界 My small art world

空间的视角 Perceptive space

香港 Para/Site 艺术空间彩色沖印

120 x 150 厘米 2008

Para/Site Art Space, Hong Kong C-print 120 x 150 cm 2008

这只是关于和围绕现场，因为它本身没有场地，所以它在这里出现却不完全。我记不起这名字是我还是 Kith 的提议，但肯定有 Patrick 身为医生的认同 — 寄生虫也有好的。

Work Space Series

我的小小艺术界 My small art world

空间的视角 Perceptive space

雅加达 ruangrupa 艺术家空间彩色沖印

120 x 150 厘米 2008

ruangrupa, Jakarta C-print 120 x 150 cm 2008

Work Space Series

我的小小艺术界 My small art world

空间的视角 Perceptive space

首尔 Ssamzie 艺术空间彩色沖印

120x150 厘米 2008

Ssamzie Art Space, Seoul C-print 120x150 cm 2008

消失空间

城市与神话 City and its myth

主观记忆 Subjective memory

不确定性的文字和语言 Text and language of uncertainty

我的名字叫维多利亚高清录像

21 分 30 秒 2008

My Name is Victoria HD Video 21min 30sec 2008

I am Jewish and it is a tradition to name a child after a relative who deceased. Not the entire name, but the first letter, so I was named after my grandfather Vladimir who died shortly before I was born. There were other names that start with V that my parents were considering, but my brother proposed to name me Victoria and everyone agreed that it was the best option. I have no idea why he did that as he was 2 at the time.... so it was very surprising...

《我的名字叫维多利亚》收集了 40 位名叫维多利亚的女性对自己名字的叙述。这些不同女性的故事被整理为一段段独白，卻以相同的声音来配上梁志和沿著域多利道 ( 维多利亚的另一译名 ) 由坚尼地城走到香港仔一路拍摄的影像。

My Name is Victoria is a collection of stories about their names from 40 women named Victoria. Their various stories are presented as one single monologue however; accompanying the voice are images of Victoria Road all the way from Kennedy Town to Aberdeen taken by Leung Chi Wo.

城市与神话 City and its myth

不确定性的文字和语言 Text and language of uncertainty

亚洲国际都会文字墙装置、公共空间橫幅、摄影一套 12 张，喷墨打印，每张 50 x 40 厘米尺寸可変

2008

Asia’s World City Wall text installation, banner in public space, set of 12 photos, inkjet print, each 50 x 40 cm Dimensions variable 2008

2005 年我在新加坡电力站艺术之家策划了一个五位香港艺术家的展览，名为“关于亚洲国际都会但不尽然”。或许“亚洲国际都会”吸引我的地方是因为新加坡以推广艺术和文化发展为目标的“文艺复兴之城”规划；对我来说，既不是亚洲国际都会，亦非文艺复兴之城的部分的趣味有过之而无不及。

2008 年，香港画廊 ArtWalk （艺术漫步）活动邀请梁志和创作一件公共作品，艺术家提议以“横幅”这需要政府许可才能悬挂的公共空间展示方式。香港特区政府自 2003 年起以“亚洲国际都会” 作为香港之城市品牌宣传，然而这一表达的模糊性使得“ 亚洲国际都会 ” 毋需指涉现实中的香港。梁志和在网上向人们征集对标语背后的愿景与想象，然后从征集到的几百个回应中挑选出 12 个远离香港现实的愿望，将它们转述为否定式，并与“亚洲国际都会”的标语一起列印在横幅上，一共

12 条横幅都挂在中上环荷里活。这些愿望有时是具体的、针对香港城市的需求，有的则是抽象的、关于“亚洲”的想象。本次展览中梁志和呈现一面铺满对“亚洲国际都会”愿望的展墙，并在墙上同时展示横幅于荷李活道的现场摄影记录。于 2008 年的项目中唯一幅没有被没收的横幅则挂在展场外面的公共空间。

In 2008, Hong Kong’s annual gallery hopping event ArtWalk invited Leung Chi Wo to create a public artwork. He proposed to just hang the kinds of street side banners that prerequired government permissions. Leung first invited people online to submit their wishes and imaginations for “Asia’s World City”–the city branding for Hong Kong campaigned by the Hong Kong government since 2003–nevertheless ambiguous enough to turn “Asia’s World City” somehow an uncertain representation of Hong Kong. Out of the several hundreds responses he got, he chose 12 as yet unrealized aspirations, and printed them together with the slogan “Asia’s World City” on banners that he hanged along Hollywood Road from Sheung Wan to Central. In this exhibition, Leung showed a wall covered with various aspirations for “Asia’s World City” and documentary images of the 12 banners in Hollywood Road. The only one banner not confiscated from the 2008 project was presented in the public space outside the exhibition hall.

城市与神话 City and its myth

主观记忆 Subjective memory

不确定性的文字和语言 Text and language of uncertainty

看你看什么是至爱 8 屏录像装置（木，玻璃，钢，LCD 屏）尺寸可变

2009

Inter (Viewing) Possession 8 channel-video installation (viewing stations made of wood, glass, steel, LCD screens, etc,.) Dimensions variable 2009

在作品《看你看什么是至爱》中，梁志和招募志愿采访者对香港水坑口街（ Possession Street ）附近的居民进行采访，请他们介绍自己最珍视的所有物（ possession ） — 水坑口街的英文名反映殖民地的历史（ possession 同時包含“ 占领 ” 和“ 拥有 ” 的意思）。而后，他以同样的方式请这些采访者回忆早前采访的内容和自己的感受，并将两次采访的内容整理为文字，最终将访谈文本整理为八组。梁志和与他的长期合作者黄志恒分别阅读两次访谈的文字，并将这八组声音灌入八个缓慢拍摄的水坑口街附近建筑窗户的录像中。观看录像的装置被设计为望远镜的形态，当观众走近装置观看录像时，仿佛在窥探他人的隐私。

A group of volunteer interviewers were recruited to interview people from the neighbourhood of Possession Street about their treasurable possession. The artist listened to these audio recordings and transcribed/rewrote them into a series of monologues. Then the artist also interviewed the interviewers and has written another set of monologues about their experience and memory of the previous interviews. All the monologues were compiled and edited into eight pairs. Finally, the artist read them together with his long time collaborator, Sara Wong, as the voice-over of the videos, which are close-up images of the windows from the buildings around in slow panning motions. All eight video-viewing stations were designed in the shape of telescopes. When viewers watch the video through the videoviewing stations, it seems as if they are poking into other people’s privacy.

We must construct as well as destroy

城市与神话 City and its myth

不确定性的文字和语言 Text and language of uncertainty

只有时间可以证明 LED 灯，塑胶玻璃蚀刻，彩色沖印尺寸可变（每件物品 30x40 厘米）

2010 年

Only time can tell LED light, etched plexiglas, C-print Dimensions variable (each element 30x40cm) 2010

The etched text in English is a quote by Zbigniew Brzezinski former National Security Advisor to Jimmy Carter, commenting upon the One Country Two Systems policy and quoted in the Hong Kong Legislative Council (LEGCO) meeting in 1984. This work is from the series “We must construct as well as destroy” which consists of photographic installations, light boxes, print and sculpture. It takes as its starting point, repaired bullet holes found in the former Legislative Council Building. The bullet holes in the former LEGCO building are often thought to date to World War II during the battle for Hong Kong; when Japan occupied the island the building became the headquarters of the Gendarmerie. There is no official account of who was responsible for the hundreds of bullet holes. Historically they have simply been put down to ‘enemy fire’. In this instance – a site of shifting power and conflict – the ‘enemy’ remains anonymous and indefinite. Leung continues his interest in the relativity of perception; how certain histories – and memories – shape our understanding of the world around us; how history is represented and interpreted.

城市与神话 City and its myth

不确定性的文字和语言 Text and language of uncertainty

强光就如冰雪一般

＊

文字、灯箱、文物原本、冷却系统尺寸可变

2012 年

Bright light has much the same effect as ice* Text, light boxes, original artifacts and refrigerating system Dimensions variable 2012

我看到你看到他看到的（眼睛反射出的光线）

援引自 1 8 9 3 年 1 月 1 9 日的《徳臣西报》： “严

连日袭港。摄影大师缤纶先生拍得太平山美景多处。照片趣味盎然。现公开发售。买得者可

凭照永记

流。盛暑之时重访留影之地。华氏六十度高温之时。该别有凉快之感。图景均精挑细选。

尽显鲜见之雪下庐峰草木。而缤纶先生之大名实为卓越工艺之保证。”

Quoted from The China Mail, 19 Jan 1893: “Mr Pun Lun, the well-known photographer, took a number of views in the Peak district during the two days that ‘Jack Frost’ was reigning supreme there, and he is now offering for sale the results of his enterprise in the form of a series of very interesting pictures, w h ich w i l l s erv e as m e m e n t o e s o f t h e p h e n o m e n a l ‘c o ld sn a p ’ w h i c h th e c o l o n y h a s j u st experienced and ought to be very refreshing to look at when the hot weather comes in and the thermometer gets away up about sixty degrees above the point at which it stood when these photographs were taken . The views are very well chosen to illustrate the unwonted aspect of the vegetation of the Peak under its coating of ice, and Mr Pun Lun’s name is a sufficient guarantee for the excellence of the workmanship in the production of the pictures.”

＊作品标题直接援引自一封由香港植物公园植物和林木部总监督查尔斯 · 福特所写的书信。该信被纳入香港天文台台长 W. 都伯尔克的报告，刊登于 1893 年第 1223 期、第 47 卷的《自然》的第 536 页。原段文字为：（23）随本报告附有六张拍摄于 1 月 16 日的景观摄影，显示了山顶区若干地点的冰雪。由于强光就如冰雪一般，其白色的外观来自于光的反射，在照片中表现冰雪是有些困难的，但人们将会理解照片中的白色是由冰雪所造成。＊T h e t i t l e i s a c t u a l l y a n d i r e c t q u o t e f r o m a l e t t e r d a t e d F e b 4 , 1 8 9 3 f r o m C h a r l e s Ford, Superintendent Botanical and Afforestation Department of Hong Kong Botanic Gardens, which was included in a report by W. Doberck, Director of Hong Kong Observatory published in Nature, Volume 47, Issue 1223, pp. 536 (1893). The original paragraph is: (23) Accompanying this report are six photographic views which were taken on January 16 showing the ice at various places in the Peak district. It is somewhat difficult to represent ice in photographs, as bright light has much the same effect as ice which owes its white appearance merely to reflected light, but it will be understood that the white in these views is produced by ice.

璸纶照相—皇后大道中 56 号 (1870 年代 )—砵甸乍街—皇后大道中 76 号 (1890 年代 )—兵头花园—山顶

这件作品由 2012 年广州三年展委约，以知名香港影楼瑸纶于 1893 年拍得匪夷所思、今天未为世人所见的香港雪景為題材。配合 1893 年的文字记载，一枚在同年铸造的香港银币与瑸纶的摄影作品并置，让观众以触觉和视觉的感知来参与这一诗意的介入。当按下银币时，对面的灯箱变暗，而灯箱表面刻字就显现出来。灯箱上的刻字引自英文《德臣西报》 1893 年 1 月 16 及 17 日，译文如下： “面临内陆群山白色之颠。与及种种

冬景象。竟有身处热带之荒谬。实为一众居民崭新经历。”

“路上飘霙处处及半寸之深。途人跋涉而嘎吱有声。想是踏雪。” “松竹百木负冰之重而下垂。树有鲜见之冬装而可爱。” “万千枝叶无不冰封。天工精致。只待冬日闪耀。顿成碧玉彩钻。”

Commissioned for the Guangzhou Triennial 2012, it is a project to explore the mythical fact of renowned Hong Kong photographer Pun Lun capturing the snowy scenes of Hong Kong in 1893 that nobody today have ever seen. Based on the texts from 1893, a freezing silver coin of Hong Kong minted in the same year juxtaposed with original photographic productions by Pun Lun to prompt tactile and visual perception for a poetic intervention. While the silver coin-button was pressed, the light boxes in the opposite would be turned off and the engraved text on top would be apparent. Engravings on light boxes from The China Mail on Jan 16 & 17, 1893: “It was a novel experience to the majority of the residents to be confronted by the whitecapped hills on the mainland, to find the thermometer registering a low reading, and to find all around a wintry aspect which suggested sarcastic thoughts of a tropical clime.” “The sleet which has been drifted up at various points on the roads to a depth of over half an inch, and as the pedestrian tramps along he produces the crunching noise which reminds him of snow.” “The bamboos and firs are weighted down under their increasing load of ice and some of the trees look lovely in their unwonted wintry garb.” “Each leaf, each twig, each branch is most exquisitely enclosed in the ice, which only wants the sunlight to sparkle into diamonds, rubies and emeralds.”

主观记忆 Subjective memory

不确定性的文字和语言 Text and language of uncertainty

我的小小艺术界 My small art world

无题（不尽及记忆的描述）七頻录像装置尺寸可变

2012

Untitled (Words about Memories but Not Exactly ) 7-channel video installation Dimensions variable 2012

在作品《无题（不尽及记忆的描述）》中，梁志和与学生助理在 6 个月的时间里找出数以百计曾经出现在香港艺术史中的艺术家名字，并通过网络搜索的形式过滤出过去十年里没有任何创作痕迹的名字组成了一个艺术家名单。他邀请 7 位经历过那个时代的艺术家、策展人来回忆名单上的艺术家，以及他们自己印象深刻的人。在作品的 7 个访谈录像中，每当一位艺术家为访谈对象被提及时，其他被访者对这位艺术家的描述也会出现在视频中，构成与被访谈者相重合或甚至相冲突的叙述。被访者：李慧娴（艺术家 / 艺术教育者），王禾壁（艺术家 / 艺术行政），陈育强（艺术家），吕振光（艺术家），曾德平（艺术家），张颂仁（策展人 / 画廊家）

In Untitled (Words about Memories but Not Exactly), Leung Chi Wo made a research project for 6 months with a group of students for names of Hong Kong artists whom we are not familiar with. They randomly browsed through exhibition catalogues and invitation cards in the Hong Kong Arts Centre, libraries and art archives. Then they drafted a list of names in hundreds and filtered it with Internet search for those who were rarely heard in the last decade. Leung brought this shortlist to several senior artists and curators for their memories of names in it and those who remain in their heart. In the 7 interviews, when an artist is mentioned by the interviewee, descriptions of the artist by the other interviewees are shown in the videos at the same time, creating an overlap or even contradicted narration to the main interviewee’s. Interviewees: Rosanna Li (artist/art educator), Wong Wo Bik (artist/art administrator), Chan Yuk Keung (artist), Lui Chun Kwong (artist), Tsang Tak-Ping (artist), Chang Tsong-zung (curator/gallerist)

Jonathan & Muragishi Series

主观记忆 Subjective memory

不确定性的文字和语言 Text and language of uncertainty

“ 降落伞与村岸系列 ” 是“ 家居隐事系列 ” 的延续，作品回忆了梁志和在“ 家居隐事系列 ” 中拜访并拍摄的两位艺术工作者：美国艺评家降落伞（ Jonathan Napack ）和日本多媒体艺术家村岸宏昭（ Hiroaki Muragishi ）。在得知两位被访者分别于 2006 和 2007 年不幸相继离世的消息之后，梁志和整理并翻译了他们当时的访谈文字：降落伞的英文访谈被翻译为普通话，并由带有美语口音的中文朗读者阅读；村岸的日文访谈被翻译为英文，并由带有日语口音的英文朗读者阅读。 2013 年，两个音频被安置在梁志和根据对两人家居相片的印象所分别搭造的装置之中，音频的电线穿过装置中的每一件物品，发出微弱且私密的声音。通过语言、摄影与现成品装置，这組作品在日常的语境中探索着“过去”与“离逝”的概念。

Jonathan & Muragishi Series The Jonathan & Muragishi Series is developed from the Domestica Invisibile Series. It recalls two art professionals who were interviewed by Leung Chi Wo in his earlier project: Jonathan Napack (1967 - 2007), a mid-career American arts writer, and Hiroaki Muragishi (1984 - 2006), a Japanese multimedia artist. Aware of Napack and Muragishi’s death, Leung transcribed and translated their words in those interviews—Napack’s interview in English was translated and dubbed in Mandarin by someone with an American accent, so as Muragishi’s Japanese one turned into English with a Japanese accent. Based on the reading of two photographs shot at home of Napack and Muragishi, two sound sculptures were created as interpretations in 2013. The speakers installed in the two works and its cables penetrate all the furnishings and reference materials, making intimate yet feeble noises. Through language, photography and readymade installations, this group of works explores the concepts of the past and elapsed time in a daily context.

Jonathan & Muragishi Series

主观记忆 Subjective memory

不确定性的文字和语言 Text and language of uncertainty

我的小小艺术界 My small art world

Liatorp-Gosig Golden-Gosig Kanin-Gosig Vovven-KlapparVandring Hare- 村岸单频声轨，扩音器，Grand Prix Collection DVD，宜家家具

95 x 37 x 137 厘米 2013

Liatorp-Gosig Golden-Gosig Kanin-Gosig Vovven-KlapparVandring Hare-Muragishi Single channel-audio track, speakers, Grand Prix Collection DVD, IKEA furnishings 95 x 37 x 137 cm 2013

扬声器 — 时间容器（证物—物质生命） — 扬声器

《 Grand Prix Collection 》 DVD 是新加坡独立电影专辑，其中收录了陈子谦作品《猴子的爱》（ Monkey Love ），由村岸宏昭担任主角及音乐创作。

Grand Prix Collection DVD features short films by Singaporean filmmakers including Royston Tan’s Monkey Love in which Hiroaki Muragishi was the lead actor and also composed music.

Jonathan & Muragishi Series

主观记忆 Subjective memory

不确定性的文字和语言 Text and language of uncertainty

我的小小艺术界 My small art world

Bestå Tofta-Idyllisk-Pokal- 降落伞单频声轨，扩音器，Tin House 杂志，宜家家具

80 x 65 x 17 厘米 2013

Bestå Tofta-Idyllisk-Pokal-Jonathan Single channel-audio track, speaker, Tin House magazine, IKEA furnishings 80 x 65 x 17 cm 2013

他迁到香港后不久，写过关于那上海作家，是一把声音 — 似是对话 — 自言自语。

降落伞的文章《残酷城市：访问棉棉》载于美国《 Tin House 》杂志，1999 年第 3 期，第 15-25 頁。

Jonathan Napack’s “Cruel Cities: Interview with Mian Mian” was published in Tin House, Vol. 1, No. 3, Winter, 1999, pp. 15-25.

主观记忆 Subjective memory

城市与神话 City and its myth

不确定性的文字和语言 Text and language of uncertainty

我的深圳矿藏 1973 摄影，激光篆刻有机玻璃，录像投影，电风扇，旧杂志封面，旧硬币尺寸可变

2015

Shenzhen Mine 1973 Photos covered with laser engraving on plexiglas, video projection, electric fan, old magazine cover, old coin as press button Dimensions variable 2015

在新作品《我的深圳矿藏 1973 》中，梁志和回忆他在 1973 年随母亲往返于香港与宝安县人民医院（深圳人民医院前身）之间的看病经历。艺术家当时的病历被放大呈现在作品中，覆盖病历的有机玻璃上篆刻着从罗湖关口至人民医院的路线地图。作品另外呈现了刻有 1973 年年份的一分钱硬币，硬币周围刻着“请按钮”和“ MINE ”（意为“我的”或“矿藏”）的提示：观众按下硬币，空间中的风扇将吹起覆盖在投影机上的矿工照片（ 1973 年 9 月《人民画报》英文版封面），艺术家拍摄的从罗湖关口至人民医院沿途天空的录像则投影在墙面上，当风扇停止运行时，矿工照片落下覆盖住投影，仅有些许光线透过矿工头顶的探照灯照射出来。

In his new work Shenzhen Mine 1973, Leung Chi Wo recalls his experience of travelling back and forth between Hong Kong and Shenzhen People’s Hospital with his mother in 1973. Images of the artist’s clinical report are enlarged in this work, and the route from the Luohu Border to the People’s Hospital is carved onto the glass on top of them. In addition, there is also a one-cent coin showing the year 1973, with carved words “press the button” and “MINE” around it. When the viewer presses the button, a photo of a miner covering the projector (cover photo of the September 1973 issue of China Pictorial) will be lifted by a electric fan, and a video of the sky along the way from the Luohu Border to People’s Hospital will be projected onto a wall. When the fan stops, the photo of the miner falls and covers the projector again; only few light shafts shine through from the light on the miner’s head.

不确定性的文字和语言 Text and language of uncertainty

我的小小艺术界 My small art world

蓝天白云割字胶贴尺寸可变

2015

Fine sky with white clouds! Vinyl text stickers Dimensions variable 2015

蓝天白云！活禽跃于青葱之神！坏鸡在广阔的……鱼的身份……谁的！……好的寡妇是……

因为《亚洲国际都会》（ 2008 ）的愿望清单中有两句并不适合于今次展出，艺术家决定以这些文字来重塑一个新的作品。他用原来的其中一些字母重新併写成 Fine sky with white clouds! （蓝天白云），其如剩下的蓝地白字则黏成两胶球，一蓝一白。

As two from the wish list of Asia’s World City (2008) are considered inappropriate to be displayed in this exhibition. The artist decided to recycle this text into a new work. A new line “Fine sky with white clouds!” was reconfigured from some of the erased text in white vinyl and the rest of them were turned into two balls, one blue and one white.

请按钮：瞻前顾后……梁志和个展

Push the Button … Leung Chi Wo: a survey exhibition

由 OCAT 深圳馆、梁志和工作室联合出版

支持：华侨城股份有限公司

Supported by Shenzhen Overseas Chinese Town Co., Ltd.

编辑：卢迎华，梁志和执行编辑：瞿畅作者：梁宝山，梁志和，卢迎华，瞿畅翻译：李佳桓，林慧心书籍设计：陆智昌

Editors: Carol Yinghua Lu, Leung Chi Wo Executive Editor: Qu Chang Contributors: Anthony Leung Po-shan, Leung Chi Wo, Carol Yinghua Lu, Qu Chang Translators: Alvin Li, Lim Hui Sin Book design: Luk Chi Cheong

ISBN 978-988-77062-0-5