Hanart TZ Gallery

Previous Exhibition

Diorama: Painting and Mixed-media by Lam Tung-pang
情．景：繪畫與現成物－－林東鵬作品展

Lam Tung Pang 林東鵬
25th Feb - 23rd Mar, 2010
Hanart T Z Gallery, Hong Kong

The diorama allows one to simultaneously create an imagined scene and depict a realistic landscape within a restricted space. One can choose to be immersed in details, or step back for a panoramic view. It is an object of endless fascination.

In my youth, apart from drawing I was fond of assembling Japanese-made models of domestic scenes, robots, or monsters. Later, for various reasons, I was compelled to abandon this hobby.

One day, observing my baby daughter at play, I recognised familiar motions and gestures that made me reflect how, as we grow older, we are forced to change or let go of aspects of ourselves. This personal experience echoes what I have observed in societal development. But after all, the past is no longer with us. I cannot find the same joy in building models according to instructions, just as animals in the zoo can no longer survive in the wild.

I have used my reclaimed hobby as a starting point for creative art, based on personal observations of the world. Largely, these are depictions of nature. This is partly because of the significant impact of nature on human existence in this century, and importantly also because our perspective on nature is a fundamental facet of our own culture. Whether in retrospect or looking forward, a sustainable and culturally-significant path to development requires us to understand nature from our own cultural viewpoint.

Decorated with both real and artificial plants, the diorama in this booklet reflects my changing perspectives on the world, and as such it will continue to evolve.

Lam Tung-pang

場景模型製作，可以讓人在一個較小的空間裡同時實現幻想及現實中的景況，你可以選擇代入其中，或者遠距離審視全盤景緻，是一件繞有趣味的玩意。我小時候除了畫畫以外，便是組合日本出品的場景小屋，機械人或怪獸，但在往後的日子，卻因為各種因素而被迫放棄。一次在觀察年幼女兒的時候，在她身上發現了一些熟悉的動作與姿態，不禁令我懷疑在成長的過程中有多少東西是被迫改變或者喪失，這個人的經驗彷彿呼應著我所觀察的社會發展。但畢竟現在不是過去，我己沒法從按照說明書去組合模型當中找到樂趣，就正如被放在動物園裡的動物已不能在野外生活一樣。於是我將這個重新拾回的興趣結合當下對世界的觀察作為創作起點，而且很大部份是關於自然的描述，這除了因為自然對人類的生存在這個世紀有著重大的影響之外，也因為自然觀是了解自身文化最基本的一個面向，不論向後看還是往前望，一個持續及有文化內涵的發展路向，必然要處理自身文化裡自然觀這一問題。這本冊子裡的場景模型，真假植物並置，在我對世界觀察的改變之下中將會持續演變。

林東鵬

呼吸的海市

張頌仁

「我第一幅動物畫是浮冰上的北極熊，之前對動物並沒有特別留意。圖像大抵都從圖片庫下載，或來自紀錄片和雜誌。零六年那幅北極熊是根據倫敦衛報注釋全球升溫的照片。」話雖如此，林東鵬這兩年的繪畫基本以動物為題材。他從大眾傳媒間接了解到動物的生態和長相，而這個不太好解釋的沉迷更被發展為幾年的工作。可是除了寵物之外，他跟動物沒有甚麼接觸；他不騎馬，不釣魚，也沒去過幾趟動物園。

最初的動物畫多直接白描動物形貌，配點簡略的生態。林東鵬不介意借用媒體的照片，他要表述只有以繪畫才看到的神態。畫面的虛實乾濕，筆法敷色的靈動幻變，都能轉換圖像的藝術趣味。但一個離感官遙遠而間接的圖像資源豐富的主題竟會導致強烈的創作慾乃畫家始料不及。他於是開始審視自己前此不曾留心的觸覺和題旨。他發現了生活與自然界中新的關係，而被媒體化的生物界為他打開了反省文化定位的頻道。

英國作家約翰伯格在三十年前一篇〈為何凝視動物〉的文章中說人類從回應動物（非寵物）看人的眼神中而體認到自身的存在。他繼而悼念這種人與動物互相凝視的體驗被體制化的現代生活扭曲而致忘懷，最終把人類從生物世界隔絕，成為被孤立起來的另一類物種。在今天的視覺世界裏，我們又假以紀錄片的眼，延長了肉眼的近距面對，走進動物的生態環境中。但那只不過等同動物園和博物館導賞的單向審視。熒幕上不可能與動物互相凝視，不能體會到兩種生物在互相忖度時出現的震盪，也因而無法直接感受人類作為動物界一份子而平等地貼近文明以外的動物智慧。

圖像化的媒體對被切斷的動物生物線的姿態往往是感傷和懷舊。國家地理的野生世界節目使我們以為文明邊界外的動物天地還在為我們不斷上演未被看見的大戲，慶幸它們為我們受污染的工業文明保留了一線希望，在洪荒的遠處秘守著天地的原始真如。可是另一方面，香港新聞不時會報導新界耕牛還野後被地產發展驅逐的邊沿狀態。這個被圖像化的動物界在今天的都市視角下所呈現的角色無異於域外異文化，或社會上的弱勢群體。它們代表了在感知另一端的生命方式，既被屏隔於我們的言語以外，但又因為動物的生物共通性而補充了我們遺忘的記憶。與我們生產作息共同進退了多少千年的耕牛和馱馬被現代生活驅入屠宰場和賭場後，只餘諺語中豐富的比喻隨我們每日的作息還不甘退役。

林東鵬的〈情．景〉因動物的流離失所觸動了對現代文明境況的反省。他把動物穿插在都市的景象中，平靜而不著聲色，像夢遊中的偶遇，不使人訝異，但異常地融入建築和山岡。讓人詫異的反而是都市人。或超大或超小，在風景裏的人好像誤入野外，被動物的生態震攝。這個權力倒置的世界或許是小人國裏的正常透視，因此不覺張惶失措。不正常的大概是觀眾的透視，因為被賦予過大過遼闊的眼界，過早預知危機的躡然掩至。

在放大鏡下觀察的世界，每刻能見的是某一細部。在放大鏡下的生活，是此刻的營營役役，而每刻都知道規範的約束。生活的規範以外本應是無盡的天地，可惜不在視野之內。林東鵬新的工作方法有點放大鏡的作用，他拿著鏡到處張望，把片斷的情境組合成不停擴展的模型世界。生活世界的元素被自由地組合，於是視野線外的危機與生機，生活經驗以外的感知亦於此找到安置之所。林東鵬的想法是在‘自然’這個觀念裏找到屬於自己的歷史文化的定位，以便從現代世界抽脫出來。這是他從動物世界得到的提示。在他的模型世界裏，闖入規範生活大門引起騷動的是動物的另類生命，我們對此既熟悉又陌生。熟悉是由於諺語的沉澱，科學知識的定位，圖像的廣泛傳播。陌生因為我們很難得接觸動物，我們只熟悉意象。林東鵬發現把動物的意象安排到生活世界的視線內竟然會騷亂所有的秩序。在放大鏡下林東鵬發現人類對動物的感知竟會讓原來熟悉的規範變得無效，錯置的生活亦可以對世界重新心生驚訝和神奇。

模型桌是林東鵬用以思想和做夢的實驗間，是繪畫的立體思維。如果奇峰仙壑是書畫家的心靈歸宿，模型桌就是市居的林東鵬的林泉。還有，模型桌重新讓林東鵬尋返中學時期的歡樂；他說最後為了應付升學大考才不得不收歛這嗜好。在林東鵬而言，模型這種小中見大的神遊樂趣，是相對於香港現實的促狹生活環境的。因此〈情．景〉所反映的自由狂想無不帶著體制生活的陰影。被豢養的禽畜與被圖像規範化的野獸反映了現代文明的有效管治，而遮掩著的是現代體制的無名暴力。從規範的暴力到掠奪的暴力，皆行之有法和言之成理，並且滲入到每人的日常生活。模型桌上的山岡是用士兵的殘骸堆成輪廓的，而散佈各角落的專業人亦隨時面對危機。另一個場景中，龐大動物的出現已觸發小軍隊進入緊急狀態，引發文明生活進一步為自保而加強管治。

林東鵬選用的英文展覽題目是 Diorama，那是歐洲十九世紀初作為科學陳列或歷史教育而設計的展示方式。這種展示採取單點透視以強調敍述觀點，有強烈的公民教化意味；以‘觀看制度’來看，被審視對象是被動被主宰的。自然科學館，美術館和動物園都是同時代的產物，藝術品與珍獸同樣作為被審視對象和權勢象徵看待，同樣被知識和權勢豢養起來，成為被馴服的對象。林東鵬的模型場景固然也帶著主宰式的透視，但角度是全方位的，更像一個烏托邦的自足的世界。場景主要是他創作的參照物，就像我們與生俱來的現代（西化）生活方式，可是回到繪畫架前他還是落實到具體情景，回到人世的、被約束的視角審視周遭。Diorama讓畫家更明確地表達他對審視主宰的自覺，因此這批畫中帶有超然獨立於情景外的自畫像，也有切入畫境中靜觀的旁觀者；他是審視者，也是被觀察的平民。林東鵬形容自己作品的氣氛為‘呼吸’。繪畫的呼吸可說是對‘氣韻’的了解，是人體生命與情景和諧融合的表現。他把畫中環境看作一篇文章，有起承轉合。為了讓都市煩噪的環境可以安靜呼吸，動物與植物被定為文章中的節奏標點，它們在林東鵬的市景中默默地守候，像文明抑制不住的動物本源記憶，在空氣濃濁的夜晚突然綻開滿天的螢火。

人民共和六十一年正月

A Breathing City

Chang Tsong-zung

“My first animal painting was the one of polar bears on drift ice, before that I hardly took notice of animals. I get my images from public media; the picture of polar bears, for example, comes from an article about climate change in the Guardian.” That said, Lam Tung-pang has devoted the past two, three years to painting animals, most of them based on images from the internet and mass media. This new turn of interest is curious as Lam has little chance for coming into contact with animals except for domestic pets; he doesn’t ride, doesn’t go fishing, and has hardly visited the zoo.

His early animal paintings resemble portraits, animal portraits supported by scanty background. Not painting directly from observation does not handicap Lam, as his interest is in expressions particular to the painted surface: tonality, brushwork, transparency and emptiness. But he was himself taken aback by his own fascination with the subject. The idea of animals sets him on a fresh course of enquiry, and has stimulated new sensibilities in his art. The natural world as a mediated experience has also got him to rethink cultural identity and the relation between heritage and historical views of nature.

Three decades ago John Berger published an essay about gazing at animals, in which he argues that human beings come to recognize their own existence from the gaze of animals (not pets). He goes on to lament the severance of the link between man and animal in the process of institutionalization in modern life, which cuts man apart, making him an isolated specie. In contemporary visual experience we now have the luxury of observing wild life up close, through the extension of human vision under camera lens. But the documentary film is different from physical contact; this is merely a sophisticated version of the commanding gaze in the natural history museum. We remain cut off from confrontation, and are insulated from the surprise coming from gazing across species. We have forsaken opportunities to sense the animal wisdom that only comes from positioning ourselves as an equal member of the animal kingdom.

Animal imageries visualized through modern media are often designed to stir nostalgia for the lost innocence in breaking our animal link. The natural life programme of National Geographic gives the impression that endless untold dramas are to be had in the world beyond the porous borders of civilization. We are warned of the dangers of species extinction, but we are also shown how a glimmer of hope for natural innocence and secrets of the universe are being kept beyond the pollution of civilization. In the meantime, occasional news on Hong Kong television tell us about the plight of farm buffaloes released into the wild, about their threatened existence as property development encroaches on their habitat. The role of the natural world as it is visualized through modern media is not unlike that of the alien cultural Other, or of disadvantaged social groups. They represent sensibilities from the far end of life that we cannot properly comprehend; they speak a foreign tongue (or none at all), and yet through the common bond of mortal living beings, remind us of the loss of memory about the essentials of life. Having lived with humans for millennia, the farming buffalo and the transporting horse are now being driven into butcher houses or racecourses; the only shadows of these animals that refuse to retire from our daily lives are their rich metaphors preserved in everyday speech.

The Diorama series by Lam is inspired by reflections about modern life as the artist contemplates the plight of animals. He inserts animals into urban sceneries without fuss, not stirring the flow of life. Like encounters in dreams, these animals do not surprise even as they are totally incongruous with the surroundings. What does cause surprise in his paintings are the humans; they are either too small or too big, and sometimes appear to have wandered into uncharted territories that expose them to unsuspected threats by animals. This reversal of roles of power would be the natural order of things in Lilliputan land, and is perhaps the reason for the appearance of calm normalcy here. The audience is not fully assured though, as we are given a panoramic view of Lam’s world in his diorama, and are forewarned of the creeping dangers beyond the horizon.

Under the microscope only one detail is seen at any moment. Life under the microscope, on the other hand, is anchored to labours at hand, and one is constantly aware of the rules that mark boundaries. Beyond the bounds of human life should spread the world’s openness, but unfortunately this usually lies beyond the line of vision. Lam’s new working method resembles studying the world with a microscope. He looks around, inspects, and continually pieces together aspects of the world in an ever-expanding model. Elements are assembled freely and creatively, so that dangers and possibilities lying beyond normal vision may also find their place in the world. Lam’s idea is to explore the idea of ‘nature’ as a way to define his own place in cultural history, thereby extricating himself from the powerful currents of modernity. This is the inspiration of animals for Lam. He finds that, in his model world, what immediately disrupts normal life is simply the living presence of animals, even though we are both familiar and unfamiliar with it. We are familiar with the metaphors, the scientific classification and media interpreted imageries of animals; but we are unfamiliar with them intuitively. We mainly live with the ‘idea’ of animals. Lam has discovered that animals not only disrupt the order of urban life, even our mediated understanding of them would develop sensibilities that make familiar ways strange, so that the displaced order of things brings fresh eyes and a renewed sense of wonder.

The modeling table is Lam’s laboratory for thinking and dreaming. It is his painting’s three-dimensional mind. While magic mountains and haloed groves form the imaginary realm that has inspired China’s historical literati artists, the modeling table is Lam’s secret garden. Modeling also reconnects Lam with a lost adolescent passion, a pleasure he was once forced to give up for the sake of preparing for higher exams. In making models, the fascination with living in a wider world through its miniature is, for Lam, tied to escaping the exploited living conditions of the average Hong Kong family. Therefore the wild fantasies of Diorama carry within them long shadows of institutionalized modern living. While domesticated animals and media imageries of wild life reflect the efficiency of modern control, what also shows through the cover is the nameless violence that makes this efficiency possible. The central mountain range of the Diorama, when observed up close, is made of soil-clad corpses of toy soldiers; and scattered in every corner are professional people exposed to imminent danger. In another model, the arrival of a vast animal has already alerted an army into a state of emergency, which also means legitimizing further social control in the name of human safety.

The English title Lam uses for this project is ‘diorama’, which refers to a form of display developed in early 19th Europe for explaining science and history to the new civic public. The classical diorama’s single vanishing point perspective and didactic narrative are both educational and controlling. It is useful to remember that the natural history museum, art museum and the zoo were all institutions created around the same time, pointing to the implication that both animal species and fine art were being put under the scrutiny of society and symbolize exploits of the new power elites. Lam’s model also adopts a bird’s-eye view, although multi-perspective, and it suggests the self-sufficiency of a utopian enclosure. But the model is just the reference Lam begins with, just as the modern world (westernized) is what we are born into and where we begin, and from here he proceeds to paint.

Lam’s paintings zoom-in on the model, and invariably adopt a ground perspective and a human angle. He studies the surroundings in the context of its limitations and restrictions, self-consciously remembering the dominating gaze above, and therefore occasionally includes himself in the picture as a looming giant. He is both the critical eye and the subject being distantly watched. The word he uses to characterize his art is 'breathing'. The breathing of a picture describes the rhythm that brings the human body into harmony with his environment, and may be taken as Lam's interpretation of the literati 'qi-yun' ('breath-rhythm'). The environment in the painting is for Lam an essay that needs editing. It has a narrative with beginning and end. Where quiet breathing spaces are needed, as respite from urban havoc, animals and plants are inserted "like punctuation marks" (Lam). These creatures take their stand silently in the urban landscape and, under an occasional overcast evening, as though unable to suppress their primordial memory, would suddenly burst into a sky of shimmering fireflies.

First month, 61st Year of the People's Republic