符號的動物
文／黃荷雅
如果說宇宙混屯之後，晝與夜之神孕育了大地，草木欣然，萬物化生，靈思降於人類，而人類創造符號，學會語言。
德國人類學家卡西勒（Ernst Alfred Cassirer，1874—1945）曾在《人論》（An Essay On Man）中道：「人類是符號的動物。」人類是「創造」符號的動物，並且只又在「創造符號」的過程中人才能獲得自由，才能成為真正意義上的「人」。那麼，進一步說明，何謂「符號」？「符號」包含「形式」及「意義」，而「形式」便是人類的感官可感知的，像是「信號燈」；而「意義」則是使用符號者約定而成之意義，像是「紅色的」信號燈代表現在「不可通行」。常有評論家用「特殊語境」又或是「藝術語言」這一類的詞去書寫藝評，以語言學的角度來解釋便是：藝術家為這些符號的「形式」賦予「意義」，變成「符號」，而觀者徜徉於這些符號中，感受藝術家「獲得自由」之過程，近一步「獲得自由」。
觀看洪永欣的作品，質地特殊的礦物顏料及重複刷洗繪成的「斑駁感」，給予畫中動、植物一種似「土壤」的環境，牠們靜置於畫布上，卻使觀者有種「動感」的錯覺，彷彿牠們都在山林臯壤中活靈活現；有趣的是，在這樣看似「粗糙」的顏料和刷洗下，仍不抹「細膩」的色彩及線條處理，甚至可說更為彰顯，在作品〈動物農莊〉中，各個異種動物相疊，深色的皮囊下卻亦各俱獨特性，我想起歐威爾（George Orwell，1903—1950）的小說《動物農莊》（Animal Farm），故事中動物們開始思考，建立屬於動物的自治世界，而此作品中彷彿也可見獸皮下隱含著滂礡的力量，像是要衝破人類加諸於牠們的梏桎。除此之外，洪永欣筆下的動物，可分為「獸」與「寵」，前者如〈山之脊〉、〈草原大長腿〉和〈松雞〉等，後者如〈齁齁好眠〉和〈黑睛睛〉等，兩者的氛圍截然不同；〈山之脊〉一作中金黃的光環圍繞在牛隻身上，披在其上的布匹，更是如波斯帝國的細密畫，營造一種神聖又華麗之感，而〈齁齁好眠〉中，沒有華麗的線條及用色，以插圖般的「光芒」圖案圍繞在主體貓間，形成一種可愛而放鬆的氛圍。撇除上述技巧性的討論，當我第一眼見到這些畫作，我想到的是，藝術家正在賦予這些動物之「形」上的「義」，她正嘗試著告訴觀者，這些動物的語言。必須再說明的是，若認為人類高於動物是因為我們有「語言符號系統」，乃一種謬誤，動物也有自己的「語言符號系統」，如奧地利動物行為學家弗里希（Karl Ritter von Frisch，1886—1982）提出的「蜜蜂的語言」是圓圈舞及搖擺舞。洪永欣觀察動物的同時，不期然地成為解語人，為我們開創一種獨特的動物符號系統。
延續上述以「形式」及「意義」說明。柏巧玲的「形式」十分特殊，以自製的擬古宣紙為基底，墨色渲染，朱紅印章為畫面製造層次感。而我認為「意義」在於，她將「詩」之「溫柔敦厚」結合書法技巧，呈現一種至柔而至剛的書寫。我認為「詩」之柔可用陳世驤先生提出的「中國抒情傳統」解釋，他強調中國的文學作品是在書寫「時間流逝下」所遺留下的美好或遺憾，並以一種強烈的手段呈現瞬間的情感，而「詩」正好是中國根文學，這一特點被後來的文學如「詞」所繼承；而陸機「詩緣情」一說，更是說明了，詩人以「經驗」出發，表現出內心所思。再往下看，柏巧玲則展現出「柔」的背後「剛」的一面，在作品〈離多最是〉中，改自晏幾道的詞《少年遊・離多最是》，「東西流水」的「水」字以較淡的墨色勾勒，似乎在象徵似水之情的結束，而後半段柏巧玲也更改了原詩中「斷腸」這樣極致的悲哀情緒，改以「細想從來不與同」收尾，少了為情所困的綿纏憂愁，多了幾分灑脫之氣。〈金涼天望〉中，擷自魯迅先生《述香港恭祝聖誕》的「金風送爽，涼露驚秋。」以四字詞莊嚴地凝聚，我想特別提出「爽」一字，此字之本義為「天氣明朗、青」，而後又衍生出「心情舒服」這層意義，此處柏巧玲以連續的筆鋒詮釋，全幅字用重墨與連筆展現豪邁之情。我認為最特別的是〈尺牘—致五柳〉這一幅字，沈裕昌老師曾論文中道：「當『書法』因為『藝術化』而逐漸失去其『藝術性』時，『尺牘』 扮演了某種協助『書法』通過『真誠』尋回其『藝術性』的關鍵角色。」因此，也可以說，這一幅字俱強大的「真誠」，是對於陶淵明一生及其人最大的致敬。柏巧玲在襲承千古的中國字上，
注入自己的「意義」，進而形成她獨有的古今共通的特殊符號系統。
俄國形式主義者什克洛夫斯基（Victor Shklovskij，1893—1984）在《作為技巧的藝術》（Art as Technique）中主張：「藝術之所以存在，就是為使人恢復對生活的感覺，就是為使人感受事物，使石頭顯出石頭的質感。」因此藝術技巧在於將形式變得困難，增加感覺的難度，因此達到「陌生化」（Defamiliarization）效果，就像洪永欣以獨有的動物符號讓我們重新感知到「動物」之神聖與可愛，柏巧玲則以承襲與創新的書法符號使觀者重新感知到「書法字」背後蘊含的情感。這樣的觀看經驗使我想起吳明益在《苦雨之地》道：「太古之初，人與萬物說同樣的語言，鳥鳴、遠方的星光、風掠過草根海浪的聲音，與嬰兒的哭聲彼此啟發⋯⋯。」其實，我們都是一次次地觀看形式中尋覓意義，解析「符號」，重新「感知到生活」，然後學會我們的語言，學會這樣是愛的表達，學會怎麼表達愛，畢竟到頭來，人類都是──符號的動物。
The Animal of Symbols
By Huang Heya
If we say that after the universe’s chaotic beginning, the gods of day and night gave birth to the earth, where plants joyously grew and all things came into being, and creative thought descended upon humanity, then it was humanity that created symbols and learned language.
The German anthropologist Ernst Alfred Cassirer (1874—1945) once stated in “An Essay On Man”: “Man is an animal of symbols.” Humans are the animals that “create” symbols, and it is only through the process of “creating symbols” that humans can gain freedom and truly become “human.” Further explaining, what are “symbols”? Symbols comprise “form” and “meaning,” where “form” is perceivable by human senses, like a “traffic light”; and “meaning” is the agreed-upon significance by the users of the symbol, like how a “red” light signals “do not pass.” Critics often use terms like “specific contexts” or “artistic language” in their reviews, which from a linguistic perspective means: artists endow these symbols’ “forms” with “meaning,” transforming them into “symbols,” while viewers wander among these symbols, experiencing the artist’s process of “gaining freedom,” and further “gaining freedom” themselves.
Looking at Hong Yongxin‘s works, the unique mineral pigments and the repeated washing brushwork create a “mottled feel” that gives the animals and plants in the paintings an environment akin to “soil.” They sit still on the canvas, yet give viewers an illusion of “motion,” as if they are vividly alive in the forest and soil. Interestingly, despite the seemingly “rough” pigments and brushwork, the delicate colors and line handling are still emphasized. In the work “Animal Farm,” different animals overlap, and beneath the dark hides, each exhibits its uniqueness. It reminds me of George Orwell’s (1903—1950) novel “Animal Farm,” where the animals begin to think and establish a world of animal self-governance. This artwork seems to also hint at a powerful force hidden beneath the animal hides, as if to break free from the shackles imposed by humans. Moreover, in Hong Yongxin‘s depictions, animals can be divided into “beasts” and “pets,” with a markedly different atmosphere between works like “Ridge of the Mountain,” “Great Long Legs of the Prairie,” and “Grouse,” and others like “Snore Sleep” and “Dark Eyes.” “Ridge of the Mountain” features a golden halo around a bovine, draped with cloth reminiscent of Persian Empire’s detailed paintings, creating a sense of sanctity and magnificence, while “Snore Sleep,” without elaborate lines and colors, surrounds the central cat with a charming and relaxing “glow” pattern. Beyond these technical discussions, upon first seeing these paintings, I think of the artist endowing these animals with “form” and “meaning,” attempting to communicate their language to viewers. It must be noted that considering humans superior to animals because we have a “language symbol system” is a misconception. Animals also have their own “language symbol systems,” as Austrian ethologist Karl Ritter von Frisch (1886—1982) demonstrated with “the language of bees,” consisting of the round dance and the waggle dance. As Hong Yongxin observes animals, she inadvertently becomes an interpreter, creating a unique system of animal symbols for us.
Continuing with the explanation of “form” and “meaning.” Bai Qiaoling’s “form” is quite special, using homemade antique Xuan paper as a base, with ink rendering and red seals adding depth to the painting. I believe the “meaning” lies in her combination of the “gentle and solid” nature of “poetry” with calligraphic skills, presenting a writing that is both soft and strong. The softness of “poetry” can be explained by Mr. Chen Shixiang‘s “Chinese lyrical tradition,” emphasizing that Chinese literature writes about the beauty or regret left under the passage of time, presenting emotions of the moment in a vivid way, and “poetry” is exactly the root of Chinese literature, a characteristic carried on by later literary forms like “Ci” poetry; and Lu Ji‘s concept of “emotional connection with poetry” further illustrates that poets start with “experience” to express inner thoughts. Looking further, Bai Qiaoling shows the “strong” behind the “soft” in her work “As Distance Shows,” adapted from Yan Jidao‘s Ci poem “Youthful Travel—As Distance Shows,” where the character for “water” in “east-west flowing water” is outlined in lighter ink, symbolizing the ending of water-like emotions, and the latter half also alters the original poem’s extreme sorrow of “heartbreak,” ending with “never had such thoughts before,” reducing the lingering sadness for romance, adding a bit of unencumbered spirit. In “Golden Cool Sky Gaze,” extracted from Mr. Lu Xun‘s “Congratulating Christmas in Hong Kong,” the phrase “golden wind brings refreshment, cool dew shocks autumn” is solemnly encapsulated in four characters, especially highlighting the character “refreshing,” which originally means “clear weather, blue” and later developed the meaning “comfortable mood,” where Bai Qiaoling interprets with continuous brushstrokes, using heavy ink and connected strokes to display a bold emotion. I find particularly special the piece “Correspondence—To Wuliwu,” where Professor Shen Yuchang argued in a paper: “When ‘calligraphy’ loses its ‘artistic nature’ due to ‘artification,’ ‘correspondence’ plays a crucial role in helping ‘calligraphy’ regain its ‘artistic nature’ through ‘sincerity.'” Therefore, this piece also possesses a strong ‘sincerity,’ serving as the greatest homage to Tao Yuanming‘s life and character. Bai Qiaoling, inheriting the tradition of Chinese characters, infuses her own “meaning,” thus forming her unique system of special symbols that spans ancient and modern times.
Russian formalist Victor Shklovsky (1893—1984) advocated in “Art as Technique” that “art exists to restore people’s sensation of life, to make people feel things, to reveal the texture of stone.” Thus, the technique in art makes the form difficult, increasing the difficulty of sensation, thereby achieving a “defamiliarization” effect, just as Hong Yongxin’s unique animal symbols let us reperceive the sanctity and adorableness of “animals,” and Bai Qiaoling’s inherited and innovative calligraphic symbols allow viewers to rediscover the emotions behind “calligraphic characters.” Such viewing experiences remind me of Wu Mingyi in “The Land of Bitter Rain,” who said: “In the beginning of ancient times, humans and all things spoke the same language; the song of birds, the light of distant stars, the sound of wind sweeping over the roots of the grass and the waves, and the cries of infants inspired each other…”. Indeed, we are all repeatedly looking at forms to find meaning, deciphering “symbols,” reperceiving “life,” and then learning our language, learning that this is an expression of love, learning how to express love, because in the end, humans are—animals of symbols.
