在卡通的冷靜與熱情之間 ──新銳藝術家陳怡潔

:::

2011 / 11月

文‧林奇伯 圖‧陳怡潔提供


曾幾何時,卡漫已成為當代藝術的主流題材。

當多數藝術家急於將卡漫人物「神格化」時,新銳藝術家陳怡潔抒發她心中熱情的方式,卻是用冷靜的符號學原理來破解「卡漫時代神話」。這種「因為享受時代,所以要解構時代」的態度,讓她的作品有了深一層的哲學興味,也顯得獨樹一格。

陳怡潔31歲,已經舉辦過11次個展。她獨創「色彩同心圓」的符號語彙,還發展出「卡通解碼」與「網路介面」兩個創作脈絡,獲得好評。

「當玩偶的造型消失,剩下的色彩透露了什麼?色彩是否也帶有什麼樣的社會訊息?」陳怡潔如此提問,也專注地走在解答的路上。


來到位於台北捷運關渡站不遠處的「18房」園區,就能感受到台灣藝壇的暢旺活力。

這裡原是志仁家商校舍,幾年前受少子化波及,招生量銳減而廢校,遺留下來的三層樓教室吸引了一群藝術家承租下來;陳怡潔和好友吳詠潔共用的工作室就在3樓邊間。

教室內,散置著多幅進行到一半的畫布,唯獨屬於陳怡潔的角落異常整齊。一張大辦公桌上擺著兩部電腦,背後是色彩鮮豔的巨幅數位輸出畫作,每幅畫上都有一顆顆由多軌色彩所組成的同心圓,乍看之下有似曾相識的熟悉感,卻又說不出在哪裡見過。

色彩記憶,一團色的本質

陳怡潔剛從日本駐村回台,帶著旅行後的興奮感。我們的主題從各自喜愛的卡通切入,童年記憶裡的「玩伴」全從腦海中彈跳出來,米老鼠、超人、小美人魚好像也坐在旁邊一起開同學會。

「這個同心圓代表超人,紅藍為主的顏色繞著正中心的黃色圓圈旋轉,像不像記憶中穿紅藍制服、胸前一個黃色標誌S的超人印象?」觀者突然恍然大悟。

她的圖像具備抽象與符號化特質,理解作品的最佳方式是先探究其創作理論。

人類對於色彩的記憶常是一個模糊的團塊,當我們遙想某人,腦海中可能已經忘記他確切的樣子。但若努力回想,就會先有一個中心位置,可能是嘴巴,然後往外圍延伸,聯想到這個人的眼睛、手腳、頭髮;最後記憶變成是圍繞著眼睛顏色擴張出去的一團同心圓色塊形象。

「人」在記憶裡變成只有顏色和符號的抽象性存在了。這就是陳怡潔藝術語彙的基本概念。

她進一步思考,卡通人物造型色彩豔麗,存在記憶中的色彩團塊也較鮮明,若以卡通玩偶為媒介探討人類色彩記憶,會不會容易一點?同理,卡通人物代表每個時代的文化價值觀,若用理性的手法讓玩偶造型消失,變成像記憶一樣的一團色塊,剩下的色彩會不會透露出某些關鍵訊息?

於是,陳怡潔藉著卡通題材開闢出以理性符號學為基底的創作蹊徑,媒材大多為電腦繪圖輸出,再佐以壓克力雕塑。

真空抽吸玩偶,破解卡漫虛擬的特質

陳怡潔是典型的「圖像思考」世代。父母親都是老師,從小生活就被各種才藝班排滿,她上過鋼琴、繪畫、陶藝、書法等課程;不上課的時間則全在看卡通。

「我幼稚園時就會在清晨六點自動起床,只為了看迪士尼。放學回到家一定也是緊盯著電視,直到上床為止。」陳怡潔因此在眾多才藝中獨鍾繪畫,一路從師大附中美術班、新竹教育大學美勞教育系,到現在的台南藝術大學藝術創作理論博士班,「過程像卡通影片,一集一集,劇情銜接得流暢。」

對卡通與藝術的雙重熱愛,在陳怡潔就讀南藝大碩士班後,逐漸匯流。研究所一年級發表《非人稱》系列,為她奠定「色彩記憶」創作的基礎。

當時,她收集了近300隻絨毛玩具,個別裝進塑膠袋進行真空抽吸。突然間,這些玩偶全縮起來,失去形狀,只剩下一團團難以辨識的色塊。

玩偶之所以迷人,在於它們都有一個虛擬的故事背景,透過巧妙的造型和顏色設計,呈現孩子氣、浪漫感的特質;單單看著就讓人心生喜悅,一恍神就從現實世界的壓力中遁逃,進入夢幻國度。

但是經過真空抽吸後,設計者精心賦予玩偶的故事性居然輕易遭到瓦解。當陳怡潔把玩偶以攝影呈現,或堆在展場裝置展示時,300個難以辨識的顏色符號排山倒海而來,直接點破──那些我們鍾心愛過的卡通人物不過只是一團顏色和符號的虛擬記憶!

卡漫神話破滅!但是,望著成堆只剩顏色而不成形狀的玩偶,為什麼我們仍不禁泛起陣陣興奮感?答案就在於色彩已經和我們的記憶反射區緊密結合。

同心圓色彩編碼,解構卡漫英雄符號

陳怡潔抓到了創作方向,開始名為「函數色彩」理論的漫長實驗探索。首先是用「色彩編碼」的方式分析自己鍾愛的卡通人物,推出《初始化》系列。

她將卡通《小熊維尼》裡的維尼、跳跳虎、驢子等角色以科學方式進行色彩分析,再用矩陣型的圓點呈現。例如,小熊維尼是黃色圓滾身體穿著紅色背心,加上可愛的黑色小眼睛;在矩陣中,就變成是黃紅黑三種顏色小點不同比例的顏色編碼。

展出時,小朋友竟然看一眼就知道哪個矩陣是維尼,哪個是跳跳虎,證明卡通人物被單純用色點呈現時,仍舊能被辨識出來。

只是矩陣的方式太過理性,無法完全呈現卡漫人物帶給我們的興奮和認同感。陳怡潔和同學腦力激盪後,找出人類影像記憶的「轉陀螺」特質,研發出獨特的「同心圓」符號,打通了一個大關節。

2004年的《超人們》系列,陳怡潔選出超人、麵包超人、鹹蛋超人等「超人系」卡通人物,做出一個個由20軌色彩環繞的同心圓。

想像,如果我們把一個超人玩偶拿起來當陀螺一樣慢速度旋轉,就會呈現以胸前徽章為中心點的同心圓,顏色統統和原先一樣,但是漫畫家以顏色和三角褲等特殊符號虛構出來的超人形象卻被解構、抽象化了,反而更符合人類記憶的「一團色」特質。

展出時,陳怡潔將同心圓與卡漫人物併置,觀者對照兩個圖像,對同心圓產生認同。

2005年初,陳怡潔試著讓圖像更直觀,發表《超能救世祖》系列,把同心圓直接置入卡通具象背景中,對照出「虛」與「實」交錯的恍惚感;觀者在背景暗示下,努力搜索記憶裡顏色、角色、場景三者的對應關係,產生一種宛如「猜謎」的樂趣。

例如,「蜘蛛人」用手腕吐絲,在都會高樓裡側身擺盪移動,到處主持正義;陳怡潔就用廣角鏡頭,讓紅藍黑的同心圓斜切在高樓的縫隙裡,點出蜘蛛人總是在正義與邪惡對立價值間侷促搖擺、不斷自我懷疑的特質。

「閃電俠」則是由紅黃色同心圓現身在雷電交加的夜裡迅速滾動,呈現一種急切前往救人的速度感。

策展人陳永賢分析說,陳怡潔將虛擬人物「再虛擬化」,「瓦解了人們對於英雄式圖案的崇拜感;鮮豔且亮麗的圓狀色彩,也取代潛意識中的英雄記憶。」

21世紀卡漫英雄,曖昧而模稜兩可

陳怡潔說,卡通英雄反映時代價值,美系卡通的特色是極度類型化、符號化,每個角色的設定都被賦予接近「他」性格的顏色,而這些顏色也反過來變成特殊價值的象徵。

最經典的例子就是誕生於1930年代末期的「超人」。超人的主基調是「紅藍」兩色,長久以來,卡漫迷就被教育成這兩種顏色代表了神聖和正義感。而往後所有的「超人系家族」設計也都脫離不了以「紅色」為主基調。

2005年底,陳怡潔將卡通探討脈絡導向時代縱深,發現相對於冷戰時期卡漫英雄的黑白分明、攸關人類存亡的嚴肅使命,數位時代的卡通英雄特質開始變得模稜兩可,不只性別與年齡倒錯,顏色也趨向混淆的中間色。

《花毛泡的星期三》系列挪用卡通《飛天小女警》的故事,反映出網路眾聲喧嘩下,多元價值觀被快速傳播,每個人都急於分享生活瑣事的特質。

《飛天小女警》於1998年在美國推出,故事描述三個擁有特異功能的小女孩花花、毛毛、泡泡負責保衛美國小鎮,阻止怪獸入侵、進火場救人等,標榜「英雄不是絕對的善,壞蛋也不是絕對的惡;每個人本性裡都有善惡,端看如何選擇」的價值觀。

「她們幾乎都在做芝麻綠豆的小事,過程又常搞笑出錯,繪畫風格更簡化,顏色更輕盈曖昧;因此我開始想像,在最不起眼的『星期三』她們怎麼過生活?應該就是做些瑣碎而無關緊要的事吧。」於是,《花毛泡的星期三》畫面中三個曖昧色調的同心圓,只閒散地喝著牛奶、看電視、畫畫度過一天,「這就是21世紀的英雄!」

這個平淡卻反映時代氛圍的《花毛泡的星期三》系列讓陳怡潔獲得台北美術獎和世安美學獎,引起關注,市場開始熱賣,海外駐村邀約不斷;經濟收入大為改善,她開始不必擔心作品材料費和生活費。

多視角跳躍,英雄也變得神經質

2010年,陳怡潔發表同心圓概念的最成熟之作《關鍵影格》系列,取材被教育界批評為會導致幼兒「假性過動」的爭議性卡通《海綿寶寶》,充分發揮了該卡通情節誇張、場景跳動的特質;媒材也跳脫出平面輸出,開始出現立體雕塑。

在台北當代藝術館展出時,現場嗨翻天!一進門就看到黃黑白壓克力同心圓雕塑斜插在天花板,小朋友反射性地指著尖叫:「海綿寶寶!」

接著會發現,代表蟹老闆、派大星、章魚哥的同心圓雕塑藏在展場各個角落;牆上的畫作擺得很緊密,迅速在魚眼鏡頭、廣角鏡頭、長鏡頭、近聚焦之間擺盪;情節也是爆破、噴汁、蹦跳,誇張到了極點,每個圖像都直接給觀者視覺震撼,且因為形式不同,逛完一圈仍處於亢奮狀態,不現疲態。

「我常和小姪女一起看《海綿寶寶》,兩人爆笑不斷;這部卡通將生活中的每個情緒和情境都誇張到極大化,讓小朋友產生更強的記憶力,成人觀眾則因劇情的神經質而感到詼諧,」陳怡潔說,以〈最佳員工〉那集為例,卡通裡把「工作熱忱」放大到「不上班會死」的人格狀態,正是現實世界的綜藝式反諷。

電子介面,人類成為符號化的「趨光體」

如果說「同心圓色彩編碼」是陳怡潔對童年卡漫熱情的抒情致意,她的另一個脈絡「電子介面」則是對數位影像世界的深沉反省。

2007年的《訊息人》系列探討人類對電子媒體的依賴,電視、電腦、手機無處不在,到處都看到有人盯著發光的螢幕自得其樂;人彷彿變成昆蟲,對於「訊號光」產生趨光性。

她以既冷酷又詼諧的手法,將人們在KTV、公車廣告看板、電影院等環境盯著螢幕看的荒謬情境呈現在平面畫作中。以〈趨光體──KTV〉組圖為例,陳怡潔採用正視、側視、俯視3種角度進行「去感情化」的掃描;畫面中,每個人變成像符號一樣的「趨光體」,從不同位置面向同一個螢幕光源「自嗨」著。

展場上,她還裝置了24隻簡約的大圓頭〈訊息人〉珍珠烤漆雕塑,從不同角度打上光源,呈現趨光的立體效果。

「那顆頭沒有臉,而且會反光,不管是從哪個角度打燈,都像是在面對光源。」陳怡潔藉此暗喻在電子媒體的照射下,生命彷彿失去方向和自我,哪裡有訊息光線出現,就朝向哪裡。

2009年的《再造物語》系列,則諷刺網路讓人類出現生命得到無限擴充和延伸的幻覺,就像得到「數位義肢」,擺脫了生理侷限,無所不能;但真正的肢體感官卻被忽略和邊緣化。

她將男體、女體、水果進行立體外觀掃描,再攤開來變成平面畫作或以燈箱裝置;就像網路將生活的日常軌跡在臉書上化約為一個頁面就可一目了然的平面時間軸一樣。其中,〈再造物語—男〉和〈再造物語—女〉就是被電子介面化的人類,攤開來後就只剩下一張人皮,在燈箱表面隱隱發光,失去生命深度。

陳怡潔是台灣三十歲世代裡最被期待的新銳藝術家之一,擁有紮實的學院訓練,又善用時代語彙發展出個人風格,藝術市場也埋單,可說是因緣具足。

在這個人類史上創意飛快跳躍的年代,卡通讓想像力馳騁,網路把人脈往全球延伸;感官被電腦鍵盤制約了,人腦被浮光掠影塞滿了,多數人迷醉在變局中,亦步亦趨,生命因眼花撩亂的影像碎片而失去縱深。

若你願意偶而抬頭,像陳怡潔跳脫到一個高度,就會發現,自己正置身在快速轉動的享樂漩渦中,生活就像陀螺一樣窮打轉,變成如記憶般的一團色模糊了。

如是觀,陳怡潔作品反而更像當代世界的一則則懺世文。

相關文章

近期文章

EN

'Tooning Up: Artist Agi Chen Offers a Cool Take on Her Greatest Passion

Eric Lin /photos courtesy of courtesy of Agi Chen /tr. by Scott Williams

In recent years, cartoons and comics have moved into the mainstream of contemporary art. But at a time when many artists have been pushing to "deify" comic and cartoon characters, Agi Chen has chosen to express her passion by using the coldly analytical principles of semiotics to break down cartoons. This attitude of "deconstructing something precisely because you enjoy it" makes Chen's work unique and gives it philosophical depth.

Just 31 years old, Chen has already had 11 solo shows and garnered positive reviews for her symbolic "concentric color circle" vocabulary and her series on decoding cartoons and network interfaces.

"When you take away the doll-like shapes, what do the colors that remain reveal? Do colors convey social information?" Having posed such questions to herself, Chen set out to answer them.


When you visit Studio 18 near the Taipei Metro's Guandu Station, you can't help but feel the vibrancy of Taipei's art scene.

The building once belonged to the Guandu campus of Zhi-Ren School of General Education. When the school shuttered the Guandu site some years ago, a group of artists rented the three-story building. Agi Chen and her good friend Wu Yung-chieh now share a studio on the third floor.

Two computers sit atop Chen's large work table. Behind them are huge, brilliantly colored digital paintings, each featuring one or more multicolored concentric circles. Something about the circles seems vaguely familiar, but it's hard to put your finger on exactly what.

Color memory

As we begin by talking about the cartoons we loved as kids, our childhood "playmates" reemerge from the depths of memory. It almost feels as if Mickey Mouse, Superman, and the Little Mermaid have joined us at a class reunion.

"This concentric circle represents Superman," says Chen and suddenly it becomes clear. "Red and blue surround the yellow whorl in the center. Doesn't it remind you of Superman's red-and-blue uniform and the trademark yellow shield on his chest?"

Given how abstract and symbolic her images are, the best way to understand them may be to delve into the principles she uses to create them.

People often remember colors as little more than a hazy block of something. When we recall someone from our past, our recollection is very likely to be vague. But if we think back, we can often recall something such as a mouth from which we can work outwards to eyes, limbs, or hair. Ultimately, our memories are reduced to something like a group of concentric color circles with the person's eyes at their core.

From this, it's not much of a stretch to say that our memories of people exist only as abstractions of color and shape. This idea forms the basis of Chen's artistic vocabulary.

Chen extended her idea further, noting that cartoon characters are composed of brilliant colors and that the color groups associated with them in our memories are fairly distinctive. She wondered whether using cartoon characters as a medium would make it easier to explore human color memory. In the same vein, positing that cartoon characters represent the cultural values of their era, she wondered whether eliminating these characters' forms, turning them into slabs of color like those in memory, would reveal something important.

These ideas set Chen in motion along a creative path that takes analytical semiotics as its foundation and cartoons as its subject. Her work utilizes computer-generated images as its medium, occasionally supplemented by acrylic sculptures.

Vacuum packed

Chen is a classic visual thinker, and her parents, both of them teachers, enrolled her in numerous fine arts classes from an early age. Outside of class, she spent her time watching cartoons.

"When I was in kindergarten, I'd get up on my own at 6 a.m. just to watch Disney programs." She says painting classes have always been a favorite, from her days in the art programs of the Affiliated Senior High School of National Taiwan Normal University and the National Hsinchu University of Education to her current studies in the PhD program at the Tainan National University of the Arts.

After starting her graduate program, Chen began merging her twin passions: cartoons and art. She produced her Impersonal series in her first year of graduate school, laying the groundwork for her "color memory" work.

She collected nearly 300 stuffed toys and individually vacuum-packed them in plastic bags. The process caused them to shrink and lose their shape, turning them into blocks of color that were difficult to distinguish from one another.

Generally speaking, people are attracted to stuffed dolls by their backstories and the childish cartooniness of their colors and shapes. Just looking at them gives pleasure, sweeps away the pressures of the workaday world and propels the viewer into a fantasy land.

But once the air was sucked out of the bags, the stories that the designers had labored to incorporate into the figures were lost. When Chen exhibited photos of the figures or piled them up into an installation in galleries, the 300 nearly indistinguishable color symbols fell apart: the cartoon characters we had loved so much were revealed to be nothing but blurry memories of colors and symbols.

Color coded

Once Chen had gotten a handle on her direction, she began her long-term experimentation with what she calls "function color." Her first step was to analyze her beloved cartoon characters using "color codes," a process which led to her Initialization series.

She analyzed the colors used for the characters of Winnie the Pooh, Tigger, and Eeyore in the Winnie the Pooh cartoons, then displayed her results as matrices of colored dots. Thus, Winnie, a black-eyed yellow bear in a red shirt, was color coded as a matrix of yellow, red, and black dots in proportions corresponding to the character's cartoon image.

At the exhibition, children immediately knew which was Pooh and which was Tigger, proving that cartoon characters could still be recognized even when reduced to nothing more than colors.

But the matrices were too analytical, completely failing to suggest the excitement we feel and sense of identification we have with cartoon characters. Chen and a classmate racked their brains until they latched onto the gyroscopic nature of people's memories of images. Their big breakthrough was the development of an innovative concentric circle symbolism.

For her 2004 Supermen series, Chen produced concentric color circles for a series of superheroes that included Superman, Anpanman, and Ultraman.

Imagine taking a Superman figurine and spinning it slowly like a top. You'd have a series of concentric circles with the insignia on his chest forming the centermost circle. All of the colors would remain the same but his iconic blue tights and red briefs would be abstracted and deconstructed into a form that better accords with the "color blocks" of human memory.

In early 2005, Chen attempted to make the images more intuitive with her Heroic Color series, in which she inserted concentric color circles into cartoon backgrounds, highlighting the befuddlement that comes of intertwining the "abstract" with the "real." Working with hints from the backgrounds, viewers search for correspondences between the colors, characters and scenes in their memories, turning the act of viewing into a kind of guessing game.

For example, Spider-Man shoots spider silk from his wrists to swing between downtown highrises as he fights for justice. Chen used a wide-angle-lens effect to place concentric red, blue and black circles at an angle in a seam between highrises to suggest Spider-Man's waffling and chronic self doubt.

The Flash, meanwhile, is represented as red and yellow concentric circles speeding by as a bolt of lightening illuminates the night, creating the sense of the hero rushing to someone's rescue.

Ambiguous cartoon heroes

Chen says that cartoon heroes reflect the values of their times. US heroes are strongly typed and symbolic, each designed with colors that reflect his or her character. As a result, these colors have become symbols for particular values.

The Superman of the 1950s epitomizes this phenomenon. Superman's key colors are red and blue. Over the years, fans of comics and cartoon have been trained to understand that these colors represent truth and justice. Since then, the designs of the entire "Superman family" have remained firmly committed to this red-and-blue color scheme.

In late 2005, Chen began investigating different time periods. She soon noted that where the heroes of Cold-War cartoons had moral clarity and carried out missions to save the whole of the human race, those of the digital age have become more ambiguous. Age and gender stereotypes have been turned on their heads, and characters' colors have moved towards more neutral hues.

Her Powerpuff Girls' Wednesday series uses The Powerpuff Girls to mirror the Internet age's rapid dissemination of diverse values and its sharing of life's minutiae.

The Powerpuff Girls, which premiered in the US in 1998, centers on three little girls-Blossom, Buttercup, and Bubbles-with supernatural powers who protect a small town in the US. The show promotes the view that heroes are not unequivocally good and villains are not unequivocally evil. Each person has good and evil inside them.

"The girls are always involved with little things that often go hilariously wrong," says Chen. "So I began to wonder what the girls' life would be like on the most ordinary of Wednesdays. I imagined they'd probably be doing something completely normal and inconsequential." In Powerpuff Girls' Wednesday, three nondescriptly colored sets of concentric circles lazily sip milk, watch TV, and draw. "They're quintessential 21st-century heroes!" say Chen.

Chen's series isn't flashy, but captures the zeitgeist in two dimensions. It also won her a Taipei Arts Award and an SANCF Award, drawing attention to and heating up the market for her work and earning her a steady stream of invitations to take up residence in arts villages abroad. The resultant massive increase in her income also relieved her of worries about how to pay for her materials and living expenses.

Wacky heroes

In 2010, Chen introduced her Key Frames series, the most mature realization of her concentric circles concept to date. The series took as its subject the controversial cartoon Sponge Bob Squarepants, which educators have criticized for causing an ADD-like disorder, and fully captured the jittery, over-the-top nature of the show. In these works, Chen also moved beyond flat images to 3D sculptures.

Her exhibit at the Museum of Contemporary Art, Taipei, inverted sea and sky. Children seeing concentric color circle sculptures stuck to the ceiling when they entered the building pointed and exclaimed, "Sponge Bob!" They then discovered the concentric circle sculptures representing Mr. Krabs, Patrick, and Squidward in the corners of the exhibition space. The closely hung paintings on the walls alternated fish-eye, wide-angle, telephoto and macro views, and depicted explosions, squirts, and leaps in a completely over-the-top fashion.

"I often watch Sponge Bob with my niece, both of us roaring with laughter from start to finish," says Chen. "It exaggerates every little mood and situation to an extreme, which makes kids remember it better, while adults are amused by the absurdity of the story lines."

Electronic interfaces

If Chen's concentric color circles are a love-letter to the comics and cartoons of her childhood, her "electronic interfaces" are a profound reflection on the world of digital images.

Her 2007 Messenger series explored humanity's dependence on electronic media. In it, she arranged televisions, computers, and cell phones such that you saw people staring at screens everywhere you looked, gravitating to these "signal" lights like moths to a flame.

She offers a grimly humorous perspective on the phenomenon, showing people fixated on screens at KTVs, bus stops, and movie theaters. In the "Phototaxis KTV" set of images, she gives us deindividualized views from the front, side, and back, depicting the people in the scenes as symbolic phototactic objects "getting high by themselves" by staring at the same monitor from different locations.

For the exhibition, she also installed 24 sculptures of bobble-headed "messengers," arranging the lighting at different angles to show phototaxis in three dimensions. The work suggests that when life is lit by electronic media, it loses direction and people lose their sense of self: they simply move in the direction of whatever signal light happens to be flashing.

In 2009's The Reproduction series, she sent up the notion that the Internet has infinitely expanded and extended our imaginations, that it is a digital prosthetic moving us beyond our physical limitations and making us capable of anything. Instead, she suggests it has caused us to ignore and marginalize our physical bodies and senses.

For the series, Chen created 3D external scans of men, women, and fruit, then turned them into 2D images and lantern installations, in much the same way that the Internet turns the events of everyday life into Facebook pages on an easily grasped chronological axis. Reproduction: Man and Reproduction: Woman depict human forms mediated by electronics. Once unfolded, nothing remains of them but their skins. They are lampshades, surfaces emitting a faint light but lacking any of life's depth.

In our era of rapid innovation, cartoons encourage our imaginations to race forward and the Internet connects us to the whole world. But our senses are now constrained by computer keyboards and our brains filled with stolen images. Most of us are captivated by the current state of affairs and simply go with the flow. But these fragmented images vaguely glimpsed are robbing our lives of their depth of field.

Viewers willing to lift their gazes and join Chen in seeking a higher vantage will notice that they've been caught in a whirling vortex of stimuli in which life has been reduced to a toy top, wearily spinning and vague as a color memory.

From this perspective, Chen's works can be seen as laments on the state of the contemporary world.

X 使用【台灣光華雜誌】APP!
更快速更方便!