【記者于郁金/連凱斐/台南報導】「沿河」指向人沿著河建造聚落、亦是殖民者前進的路線，也是這次
是誰、從哪裡來、往何處去，答非所問往往自取其辱。關於身體與自
近代的下水道工程始於工業革命後，為了改善衛生環境以及避免河川
回想過去生活與水流動的關係，作者自己曾誤以為城市的水都在水管和自
在展場中，作者試圖劃出一條線、類似路徑，沿著河走，辯證當代用水
【劉紀彤簡介】
1993 生於高雄市
2015 國立台南藝術大學 材質創作與設計系 學士
現就讀台北藝術大學藝術跨域研究所
展覽日期｜ 2019 / 9/1 Sun.- 10/6 Sun.
Dwelling in the invisibility - Liu Chi Tung Solo Exhibition
Date｜1 September - 6 October 2019
Opening｜Sun. 1 September 3:00pm
Forum｜Sun. 1 September 3:30pm
Forum Guest｜Kao Jun Hunn, Chien I Ming
Walking ｜ Tracing the Hou-Po River ｜28 Sep. & 6 Oct.
【Exhibition Statement】
Civilizations have flourished along rivers, and colonizers have also pushed forward following the same routes. This exhibition ponders on this and applies it to form a physical path. The “invisibility” in “Dwelling in the Invisibility” suggests a place that exists but can’t be perceived visually, and “dwelling” is associated with place of residence; thus, the two components point at an existence that is two-fold by nature and one that transcends beyond visual experiences. Not reaching for the distant other, the everyday reality that is actually a simulacrum is highlighted, with memories depended on for guidance in pushing through. The sun sets a little earlier in the east side of this island because of the mountains that separate it from the west, and the cities in the west then follows the rhythms of the east, with the sun also setting earlier due to high-rise buildings and river embankments. The modern urban structure of the island is derived from repeated replications of desires executed by several imperial colonizers, and as local people succumbed to and became depended on civilization, they slowly lost their navigation skills for nature, with their memories for history disoriented and their sense of identity fragmented.
Who? Where from? Where to? Questions like these often result in irrelevant answers that bring contempt upon oneself. A punctum, which saw the body breaking away from nature, manifested before me on one afternoon in a small alley. As we walked by a row of old houses, the Chingshui Temple, some old banyan trees, a water well, a pump, and a gutter, my boy friend then pointed towards under my feet and said, “This is the Fang Creek!” I was puzzled by the idea of a river running inside a gutter, a river stream inside a city, in a place that I pass by everyday. Although a mysterious structure has been placed over it, with inscriptions that have faded through time, I began to sense a divine presence because of this invisible river meandering through the alleyways, passing through the city’s up-and-down topography, and also the industry and location names associated with it.
Constructions for modern underground waterways began after the Industrial Revolution, with the objective of improving hygienic conditions and preventing rivers and streams from being polluted. Modern water management and infrastructure in Taiwan began during its Japanese colonial era. Large-scale underground water system was implemented in the 60s to accommodate the growing population and urbanization. However, most of the everyday wastewater is still now being discharged into rivers via various pipes and ditches, and people have grown accustomed to rivers becoming large gutters.
Reflecting on the relationship between life in the past and moving water, I recalled that I once misunderstood the water that we get in cities all came from water pipes and the water bureau, and I would never forget the time when a water pipe got clogged and my balcony was swamped. I lived near the Wushantou Reservoir when I was in college and thought the place was heaven on earth. One day I was stuck in the mud at the bottom of the reservoir during a dry spell, and as I fought hard to pull up my sinking body, I was reminded that the reservoir was built along the Guantian River.
A line is drawn out in the exhibition space. This line resembles a route that follows a river, and it is an attempt at attesting the relationship between the cycle of how water is used in today’s time and myself, showing that the reservoir is at the upstream of water usage; human behavior is at the middle reach, and rivers running through the city have become the invisible downstream. As memories from my childhood crumble and my youth collapses, I escape from a single-sided view that only shows the good, shattering the filter that evokes bliss and wonder. Leaving behind the rules and regulations on hygiene and safety that I was taught, I push through the concrete jungle and venture out into the ocean, an ocean that is embedded in my memory; an ocean that my tour-guide father once took me to — the world’s largest artificial ocean on the island of Kyushu in Miyazaki, Japan. With the blue-sky façade cracked open, an exit is discovered on the other side of the sky blue concrete. However, once on the outside, the same world seems to await; at the same time, the world is also no longer the same.
是誰、從哪裡來、往何處去，答非所問往往自取其辱。關於身體與自
近代的下水道工程始於工業革命後，為了改善衛生環境以及避免河川
回想過去生活與水流動的關係，作者自己曾誤以為城市的水都在水管和自
在展場中，作者試圖劃出一條線、類似路徑，沿著河走，辯證當代用水
【劉紀彤簡介】
1993 生於高雄市
2015 國立台南藝術大學 材質創作與設計系 學士
現就讀台北藝術大學藝術跨域研究所
展覽日期｜ 2019 / 9/1 Sun.- 10/6 Sun.
開幕茶會｜ 2019 / 9/1 Sun. 15:00
座談活動｜ 2019 / 9/1 Sun. 15:30-17:30
與談人｜ 高俊宏、簡義明
行走活動｜「琥珀川在哪？」9/28 Sat. 、10/6 Sun. （報名請內洽）
座談活動｜ 2019 / 9/1 Sun. 15:30-17:30
與談人｜ 高俊宏、簡義明
行走活動｜「琥珀川在哪？」9/28 Sat. 、10/6 Sun. （報名請內洽）
Dwelling in the invisibility - Liu Chi Tung Solo Exhibition
Date｜1 September - 6 October 2019
Opening｜Sun. 1 September 3:00pm
Forum｜Sun. 1 September 3:30pm
Forum Guest｜Kao Jun Hunn, Chien I Ming
Walking ｜ Tracing the Hou-Po River ｜28 Sep. & 6 Oct.
【Exhibition Statement】
Civilizations have flourished along rivers, and colonizers have also pushed forward following the same routes. This exhibition ponders on this and applies it to form a physical path. The “invisibility” in “Dwelling in the Invisibility” suggests a place that exists but can’t be perceived visually, and “dwelling” is associated with place of residence; thus, the two components point at an existence that is two-fold by nature and one that transcends beyond visual experiences. Not reaching for the distant other, the everyday reality that is actually a simulacrum is highlighted, with memories depended on for guidance in pushing through. The sun sets a little earlier in the east side of this island because of the mountains that separate it from the west, and the cities in the west then follows the rhythms of the east, with the sun also setting earlier due to high-rise buildings and river embankments. The modern urban structure of the island is derived from repeated replications of desires executed by several imperial colonizers, and as local people succumbed to and became depended on civilization, they slowly lost their navigation skills for nature, with their memories for history disoriented and their sense of identity fragmented.
Who? Where from? Where to? Questions like these often result in irrelevant answers that bring contempt upon oneself. A punctum, which saw the body breaking away from nature, manifested before me on one afternoon in a small alley. As we walked by a row of old houses, the Chingshui Temple, some old banyan trees, a water well, a pump, and a gutter, my boy friend then pointed towards under my feet and said, “This is the Fang Creek!” I was puzzled by the idea of a river running inside a gutter, a river stream inside a city, in a place that I pass by everyday. Although a mysterious structure has been placed over it, with inscriptions that have faded through time, I began to sense a divine presence because of this invisible river meandering through the alleyways, passing through the city’s up-and-down topography, and also the industry and location names associated with it.
Constructions for modern underground waterways began after the Industrial Revolution, with the objective of improving hygienic conditions and preventing rivers and streams from being polluted. Modern water management and infrastructure in Taiwan began during its Japanese colonial era. Large-scale underground water system was implemented in the 60s to accommodate the growing population and urbanization. However, most of the everyday wastewater is still now being discharged into rivers via various pipes and ditches, and people have grown accustomed to rivers becoming large gutters.
Reflecting on the relationship between life in the past and moving water, I recalled that I once misunderstood the water that we get in cities all came from water pipes and the water bureau, and I would never forget the time when a water pipe got clogged and my balcony was swamped. I lived near the Wushantou Reservoir when I was in college and thought the place was heaven on earth. One day I was stuck in the mud at the bottom of the reservoir during a dry spell, and as I fought hard to pull up my sinking body, I was reminded that the reservoir was built along the Guantian River.
A line is drawn out in the exhibition space. This line resembles a route that follows a river, and it is an attempt at attesting the relationship between the cycle of how water is used in today’s time and myself, showing that the reservoir is at the upstream of water usage; human behavior is at the middle reach, and rivers running through the city have become the invisible downstream. As memories from my childhood crumble and my youth collapses, I escape from a single-sided view that only shows the good, shattering the filter that evokes bliss and wonder. Leaving behind the rules and regulations on hygiene and safety that I was taught, I push through the concrete jungle and venture out into the ocean, an ocean that is embedded in my memory; an ocean that my tour-guide father once took me to — the world’s largest artificial ocean on the island of Kyushu in Miyazaki, Japan. With the blue-sky façade cracked open, an exit is discovered on the other side of the sky blue concrete. However, once on the outside, the same world seems to await; at the same time, the world is also no longer the same.
【About Liu Chi Tung】
1993 born in Kaohsiung
2015 B.F.A, Department of Material Art and Design, TNNUA, Taiwan
Now studying at M.F.A, Institute of Trans-disciplinary Arts, TNUA, Taiwan.
2015 B.F.A, Department of Material Art and Design, TNNUA, Taiwan
Now studying at M.F.A, Institute of Trans-disciplinary Arts, TNUA, Taiwan.
TEL 06 223 3508
公休 週一 Mon.
預約制 週二 Tue.
OPEN 12:00-20:00 週三至週五 Wed.-Fri.
14:00-20:00 週六至週日 Sat.-Sun.
您好，我是藝術家劉紀彤，感謝您的協助宣傳，但對於將展覽論述中的「我」改成「作者」，直接改成一篇新聞稿並撰上記者姓名，杜撰成一篇新聞稿，我想是非常不妥，還麻煩尊重。
回覆刪除