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  • 索拉里斯星的海 | VR线上展厅


    2019索拉里斯星的海 .pdf


    展评链接——索拉里斯+记忆或引擎模拟并渲染的全景世界_20201224050939.pdf


    索拉里斯星的海洋,是波兰作家斯坦尼斯拉夫·莱姆笔下覆盖于索拉里斯星球表面的神秘之海。它拥有复制、重塑人类内心世界之神力,却又如婴孩般兴之所至、肆意而为。作者在书中的结尾向读者透露出一种绝望:试图解读这片无尽幻灭的海洋是徒然的,其存在即其所有的意义,也是人类记忆的绝妙隐喻。


    艺术家以个人记忆作为一个工作界面持续进行了4年的研究计划,他将这段工作中,不断从思路分支出现的作品,其理解为迷宫中的侦探行动,一次溯源而上的,针对个人记忆的冒险。整个展览由彼得伯鲁盖尔的一幅《冬狩》引出并展开,以虚构小说和个人日记作为DNA双螺旋型结构的隐藏线索,触及了关于全景画视角、空间中的多重时间并置等问题。大大小小的3D数字模拟影像装置在通道形态的展厅中镶嵌,并行其间,互为背景。

    散落展厅一路的Gif动图,被命名为《西西弗斯》:它们是一些微妙变着的暂停场景,如果仔细的话,会发现它们和那些完整的影像,其实都是截取于同一个引擎模拟并渲染的数字球体(Sphère)世界。但这些无人的角落好像是某个突然暂停带来的间隙或Bug,被整体所抛弃,存在在更大的不可见场景之中。

    通道中有一个窗口,里面展示着《活在昨天的人》这件作品,作者的脸被扫描成3D数字图像,脸出现在房间里的桌子上、草丛中、石头上、高楼上,一镜到底的3D数字模拟影像中,这些脸把散碎的梦话编织成了一段寓言故事……

    通道尽头被一堵蓝色的墙挡住,上面是计算机出现问题时的蓝屏画面:一个错误的窗,损毁的窗。是windows视窗的提示,或者也可以称作一种和通道中的窗口相呼应的“窗”。视窗中计算机引擎模拟并渲染的影像世界是如何处理背景和前景的区分?在数字虚拟的尺度里, 观察世界似乎不是一种用人的透视法来看的,那是一个更加整体的,同时又更加细节的世界,远与近一般清晰,就像勃鲁盖尔绘画的几个景深之间 的间隙。“窗”是这个展览的重心,不仅有那些能够看到虚拟世界的屏幕,在空间里也充满了被切割成方形的实体窗口。我们通过“屏幕的窗”看到某种幻象;又通过实体的窗,意识到 它们是被彻头彻尾创造出来的。窗的形象 是关于呈现(presentation)而非再现(re-presentation),即“窗”的动词化,在边界线 的走向(le trace des bords),在边缘飘忽的踪迹中“不断地看到”。这个作品像是一个停顿,引出观众走出windows系统的蓝色通道。

    走出蓝色通道,观众来到一块被两个巨大的铁网包围的一个中空之地,铁网的背后是三屏3D数字模拟影像装置《忧郁的北温带》,地上铺满了塑料假草,而在网格的遮挡里,视频内部也播放着数据的假草和铁网的影像。《忧郁的北温带》模拟了回访和循环的梦,作者通过梦境记录以及家人的描述,慢慢将有关自己初始记忆时的那个家的所有,用3D软件拼装了出来。那个空间也是后来不同时期梦里片段反复发生的地方,一个把不同年龄阶段的人生折叠进去的高维度房间。那里尚存在着很多上个世纪的典型物的模型,中国经济迅速发展的30年里迅速失去的地方性图像。

    即将走入展厅的最后一个空间,墙上写着一行字: 有一个故事,故事里充满了局部,却没有整体。

    转弯就进入了作品《公园一角|序》的空间,既是序,也是最后的作品。多个视角的3D数字渲染世界时而成为一个整体,时而成为分离的角落。念白的内容关于一个真实发生的巧合,作者在自己的小学日记里发现的一个无名之人,关于对这个人的回忆和寻找。多屏装置由计算机软件渲染生成,从头至尾一镜到底,如同一个梦境中的漫游者,在记忆中的废墟中穿梭,梦境和回忆在偏离和虚构中交织。记忆的幕间,藏着幕后那些卸妆的“演员”们,那些潜意识中被压抑的现场。而作品一开始连成地平线的那片雪地,也与伯鲁盖尔的《冬狩》相呼应。

    Cao Shu embarked on a four-year research project using personal memory as a working interface. He interprets the works emerging from this project as detective actions in a labyrinth, an adventure into personal memory. The entire exhibition is introduced and unfolded by Peter Bruegel's painting "The Hunters in the Snow," with fictional novels and personal diaries serving as hidden clues in the DNA double helix structure, touching upon issues such as panoramic perspectives in painting and the juxtaposition of multiple times in space. Various sizes of 3D digital simulation video installations are embedded in the gallery space in the form of corridors, serving as backgrounds and foregrounds.

    Scattered throughout the gallery are GIF animations named "Sisyphus": subtle variations of paused scenes, which, upon closer examination, reveal that they and the complete images are extracted from the same digitally simulated and rendered world of a spherical entity called the Sphere. However, these unmanned corners seem like gaps or bugs brought about by a sudden pause, abandoned by the whole, existing within a larger unseen scene.

    In one of the corridors, there is a window showcasing the work "Living in Yesterday." The artist's face is scanned into a 3D digital image, appearing on tables, in bushes, on rocks, on high buildings, in continuous 3D digital simulation videos, weaving these fragmented dream talks into a fable...

    At the end of the corridor, a blue wall blocks the way, displaying a blue screen when a computer encounters a problem: an erroneous window, a damaged window. It's a prompt from the Windows system, or it could also be called a "window" corresponding to the window in the corridor. How does the image world simulated and rendered by computer engines in the window distinguish between background and foreground? In the scale of digital virtuality, observing the world seems not to be through human perspective, but through a more holistic and detailed world, where far and near are equally clear, like the gaps between several depths in Bruegel's paintings. The "window" is the focus of this exhibition, not only are there screens that can see the virtual world, but the space is also filled with square-cut physical windows. Through the "window of the screen," we see a kind of illusion; and through the physical window, we realize that they are created through and through. The image of the window is about presentation rather than representation, that is, the verbalization of "window," in the direction of the boundary line, "constantly seen" in the floating traces of the edge. This work is like a pause, leading the audience out of the blue channel of the Windows system.

    Exiting the blue channel, the audience enters a hollow space surrounded by two giant iron nets, behind which is a three-screen 3D digital simulation video installation titled "Melancholic Temperate Zone." The ground is covered with plastic grass, and within the grid's concealment, the video also plays images of data grass and iron nets. "Melancholic Temperate Zone" simulates revisiting and cyclic dreams. The author slowly assembled all the information about his childhood home from dream records and descriptions by family members using 3D software. That space is also where fragments of dreams from different periods occur repeatedly, a high-dimensional room folding in different stages of life. There are still many models of typical objects from the last century, images of localities lost rapidly during China's rapid economic development over 30 years.

    Entering the last space before the gallery, a line of words is written on the wall: There is a story, a story filled with parts, but without a whole.

    Turning a corner leads to the space of the work "A Corner of the Park | Prologue," both a prologue and the final piece. The 3D digital rendering world from multiple perspectives sometimes forms a whole and sometimes becomes separate corners. The narration revolves around a true coincidence the author discovered about an unnamed person in his elementary school diary, about memories and searching for this person. The multi-screen installation is generated by computer software, a continuous shot from start to finish, like a wanderer in a dream, shuttling through the ruins of memory, where dreams and memories intertwine in deviation and fabrication. In the intermission of memory, there are those "actors" behind the scenes, those scenes suppressed in the subconscious. And the snowy ground that initially formed the horizon line in the work, also echoes with Bruegel's "The Hunters in the Snow".




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