It's like a dream. Imagine, in the empty desert, you come upon a huge wheel ringed in skeletons, and someone invites you to come pull a series of heavy ropes at its base, so you walk to one side, where a team is waiting, and you all throw your backs into it, and you pull in turn, and eventually, the wheel roars to life, lights begin to flicker, and the audience cheers, and you've just activated Peter Hudson's "Charon," one of the world's largest zoetropes. This is the farthest thing from marketable art.
就像作夢一樣。 想像一下,在空蕩蕩的沙漠, 你發現了一個巨大的輪子, 周圍都是骨骸, 有人邀請你去拉在它 基部的一串粗重繩子, 所以你走到一邊, 有一個團隊在那裡等著, 你們所有人都使出吃奶的力氣, 你們輪流拉, 最終,輪子發出轟鳴,動了起來, 光開始閃爍,觀眾在歡呼, 你們剛剛啟動了彼得哈德森的 「卡戎(冥河渡神)」, 它是世界上最大的 西洋鏡(幻影箱)之一。 這是距離可行銷藝術最遙遠的東西。
(Laughter)
(笑聲)
It's huge, it's dangerous, it takes a dozen people to run, and it doesn't go with the sofa.
它很巨大,它很危險, 要花十多個人才能運作, 且還沒有附沙發。
(Laughter)
(笑聲)
It's beautifully crafted and completely useless, and it's wonderful.
它的工藝非常美麗, 且它完全沒有用途, 它很美好。
You're unlikely to see works like "Charon" in the art-world headlines. These days, the buying and selling of artwork often gets more attention than the works themselves. In the last year, a Jean-Michel Basquiat sold for 110 million dollars, the highest price ever achieved for the work of an American artist, and a painting by Leonardo da Vinci sold for 450 million, setting a new auction record. Still, these are big, important artists, but still, when you look at these works and you look at the headlines, you have to ask yourself, "Do I care about these because they move me, or do I care about them because they're expensive and I think they're supposed to?" In our contemporary world, it can be hard to separate those two things. But what if we tried? What if we redefined art's value -- not by its price tag, but by the emotional connection it creates between the artist and the audience, or the benefits it gives our society, or the fulfillment it gives the artists themselves?
你不太可能在藝術世界的標題 看到像「卡戎」這樣的作品。 藝術作品現今的買與賣 通常比作品本身更受到矚目。 去年,一件尚米榭巴斯奇亞的作品 就賣到一億一千萬美元, 這是美國藝術家的作品 所達到的最高售價, 還有一幅達文西的畫, 賣了四億五千萬美元, 打破了拍賣的記錄。 然而,這些都是重要的大藝術家, 儘管如此,當你看這些作品 和新聞頭條時, 你得要問問自己: 「我在乎這些作品 是因為它們感動了我? 或是我在乎它們是因為它們很貴, 且我認為它們應該要很貴?」 在我們現代的世界, 很難區分這兩件事。 但如果我們嘗試呢? 如果我們重新定義藝術的價值, 不是用標價, 而是用它在藝術家和觀眾之間 創造出的情緒連結, 或是它給予我們社會的益處, 或是它給予藝術家自己的滿足感?
This is Nevada's Black Rock Desert, about as far as you can get from the galleries of New York and London and Hong Kong. And here, for just about 30 years, at Burning Man, a movement has been forming that does exactly that. Since its early anarchist years, Burning Man has grown up. Today, it's more of an experiment in collective dreaming. It's a year-round community, and every August, for a single week, 70,000 people power down their technology and pilgrimage out into the desert to build an anti-consumerist society outside the bounds of their everyday lives. The conditions are brutal. Strangers will hug you, and every year, you will swear it was better the last, but it's still ridiculous and freeing and alive, and the art is one thing that thrives here.
這是內華達的黑石沙漠, 從紐約、倫敦,以及香港的畫廊, 你所能到的最遠的地方就是這裡。 在燃燒人節慶這裡, 大約有三十年的時間, 有一個運動,就是 為了這個目的而形成。 一開始像無政府般混亂的 燃燒人節慶已經成長了。 現今,它更像是 一個集體作夢的體驗。 它是個全年無休的社區, 每年八月,有一週的時間, 七萬人會離開他們的科技, 進入沙漠朝聖, 來打造一個反消費主義的社會, 超越他們日常生活的範圍。 條件很嚴酷。 陌生人會擁抱你, 每年,你都會發誓, 最好這是最後一次, 但它仍然很荒唐、很解放, 也很有生命力, 而在這裡,藝術能夠有一片天。
So this is me on the desert playa last year with my brother, obviously hard at work.
這是我,去年在沙漠乾鹽湖拍的, 旁邊是我兄弟, 很顯然他努力地在工作。
(Laughter)
(笑聲)
I'd been studying the art of Burning Man for several years, for an exhibition I curated at the Smithsonian's Renwick Gallery, and what fascinates me the most isn't the quality of the work here, which is actually rather high, it's why people come out here into the desert again and again to get their hands dirty and make in our increasingly digital age. Because it seems like this gets to something that's essentially human. Really, the entire encampment of Burning Man could be thought of as one giant interactive art installation driven by the participation of everyone in it.
我研究燃燒人節慶的藝術 已經有很多年了, 為的是我幫史密森尼學會的 倫威克美術館所策畫的一項展覽, 讓我覺得最炫的, 並不是這裡的作品品質, 不過品質是真的很高, 最炫的是為什麼大家會 一而再再而三地來到這個沙漠, 在這個越來越數位的時代, 親自動手製作東西。 因為似乎這樣做就能夠 找到一些人類的本質。 說真的,整個燃燒人節慶的營地 可以被視為是一個巨大的 互動式藝術裝置, 由參與節慶的每一個人所驅動。
One thing that sets this work aside from the commercial art world is that anyone who makes work can show it. These days, around 300 art installations and countless artistic gestures go to the playa. None of them are sold there. At the end of the week, if the works aren't burned, artists have to cart them back out and store them. It's a tremendous labor of love.
讓這個節慶與商業藝術世界 有所區別的其中一點, 就是任何創作人 都可以呈現自己的作品。 現今大約有三百件 藝術裝置和無數的藝術象徵 被送到乾鹽湖。 全是非賣品。 在一週的尾聲, 如果作品沒有被燒掉, 藝術家就得要把它們 運送回去儲存起來。 那是非常大的工程, 出於愛的工程。
Though there is certainly a Burning Man aesthetic, pioneered by artists like Kate Raudenbush and Michael Christian, much of the distinctive character of the work here comes from the desert itself. For a work to succeed, it has to be portable enough to make the journey, rugged enough to withstand the wind and weather and participants, stimulating in daylight and darkness, and engaging without interpretation. Encounters with monumental and intimate works here feel surreal. Scale has a tendency to fool the eyes. What looked enormous in an artist's studio could get lost on the playa, but there are virtually no spatial limits, so artists can dream as big as they can build. Some pieces bowl you over by their grace and others by the sheer audacity it took to bring them here.
雖然肯定有著燃燒人節慶的美感, 由像凱特勞登布許 和麥可克里斯汀這些藝術家領頭, 但這裡的作品的獨特特色大部分 來自沙漠本身。 一件作品若要能成功, 它必須要可攜帶, 至少要能走這段旅途, 它必須要夠粗壯,能承受風、 天氣,和參與者的影響。 在光線下和黑暗中 都要有刺激的效果, 且不用詮釋就能和人連結。 在這裡,與紀念性和親密的 作品接觸,感覺很超現實。 比例可以愚弄眼睛。 在藝術家的工作室中看來很巨大的 作品,在乾鹽湖中卻難以看見, 但那裡真的沒有空間的限制, 所以,藝術家可以夢想 任何能做得出來的尺寸。 有些作品會讓你感到驚奇 是因為它們的優雅, 有些則是因為將它們帶到這裡 所需要的十足膽量。
Burning Man's irreverent humor comes out in pieces like Rebekah Waites' "Church Trap," a tiny country chapel set precariously on a wooden beam, like a mousetrap, that lured participants in to find religion -- it was built and burned in 2013 ... while other works, like Christopher Schardt's "Firmament," aim for the sublime. Here, under a canopy of dancing lights set to classical music, participants could escape the thumping rave beats and chaos all around.
燃燒人節慶中一些作品 會有著無關緊要的幽默, 像是蕾貝卡魏特茲的 「教堂陷阱」, 一個小型鄉下禮拜堂,很不穩固地 放在木樑上,就像是捕鼠陷阱, 引誘參與者進入尋找宗教—— 它是在 2013 年建造並被燒毀的, 而其他作品,像是 克里斯多夫夏茲的「蒼天」, 把目標放在呈現壯觀。 在這裡,上頭是有著 舞廳燈光的頂篷,搭配古典音樂, 讓參與者能夠逃離周圍的 吵鬧重擊節拍和混亂。
At night, the city swarms with mutant vehicles, the only cars allowed to roam the playa. And if necessity is the mother of invention, here, absurdity is its father.
晚上,城市裡滿是變種的車輛, 乾鹽湖只容許這種車遊盪。 如果需求是發明之母, 在這裡,荒謬就是發明之父。
(Laughter)
(笑聲)
They zigzag from artwork to artwork like some bizarre, random public transportation system, pulsing with light and sound. When artists stop worrying about critics and collectors and start making work for themselves, these are the kinds of marvelous toys they create.
從一件藝術作品到另一件 之間的曲折變化, 就像怪誕、隨機的大眾運輸系統, 帶著光線與聲音在脈動著。 當藝術家不再擔心評論家和收藏家, 開始為自己創造作品時, 這些就是他們 創造出來的絕妙玩具。
And what's amazing is that, by and large, when people first come to Burning Man, they don't know how to make this stuff. It's the active collaborative maker community there that makes this possible. Collectives like Five Ton Crane come together to share skills and take on complex projects a single artist would never even attempt, from a Gothic rocket ship that appears ready to take off at any moment to a fairytale home inside a giant boot complete with shelves full of artist-made books, a blackbird pie in the oven and a climbable beanstalk.
很棒的是,一般來說, 當大家初次來到燃燒人節慶時, 他們不知道要如何做這些東西。 是這裡的個積極合作式自造者社區 讓這一切成為可能。 像「 Five Ton Crane」這樣的 集體企業會團結起來分享技能, 挑戰單一位藝術家永遠 不可能嘗試的複雜計畫, 從看起來隨時準備好 要起飛的哥德式火箭, 到如童話般位在巨大靴子中的家, 附帶有放滿藝術家 製作之書籍的書架、 一個放在爐中的黑鳥派餅, 以及可以攀爬的豆莖。
Skilled or unskilled, all are welcome. In fact, part of the charm and the innovation of the work here is that so many makers aren't artists at all, but scientists or engineers or welders or garbage collectors, and their works cross disciplinary boundaries, from a grove of origami mushrooms that developed out of the design for a yurt to a tree that responds to the voices and biorhythms of all those around it through 175,000 LEDs embedded in its leaves.
不論是否要用到技能,通通都歡迎。 事實上,這裡的作品之所以 有魅力和創新,部分原因 是因為許多自造者根本不是藝術家, 而是科學家或工程師, 或是焊工或垃圾收集者, 他們的作品跨越了學科領域的界線, 從根據蒙古包設計 發展出來的褶紙香菇叢, 到會回應所有周圍聲音 和生物節律的樹木, 靠其樹葉中內建的 17 萬 5 千個 LED 燈來回應。
In museums, a typical visitor spends less than 30 seconds with a work of art, and I often watch people wander from label to label, searching for information, as though the entire story of a work of art could be contained in that one 80-word text. But in the desert, there are no gatekeepers and no placards explaining the art, just natural curiosity. You see a work on the horizon, and you ride towards it. When you arrive, you walk all around it, you touch it, you test it. Is it sturdy enough to climb on? Will I be impaled by it?
在博物館,典型的訪客會花在一件 藝術作品上的時間不到 30 秒, 我常常看著大家 在各標籤之間徘徊, 尋找資訊, 好像藝術作品的整個故事 都能夠被包含在 80 個字的文字說明中。 但在沙漠中,沒有守門人, 沒有小牌子來解釋藝術, 只有自然的好奇心。 你看到地平線上有一件作品, 你就朝它前進。 抵達後,你繞著它的周圍走著, 你觸碰它,你測試它。 它夠堅固可以爬上去嗎? 我會不會被它刺穿?
(Laughter)
(笑聲)
Art becomes a place for extended interaction, and although the display might be short-lived, the experience stays with you.
藝術變成了延伸互動的地方, 雖然展示的時間很短暫, 但這經驗會與你同在。
Nowhere is that truer at Burning Man than at the Temple. In 2000, David Best and Jack Haye built the first Temple, and after a member of their team was killed tragically in an accident shortly before the event, the building became a makeshift memorial. By itself, it's a magnificent piece of architecture, but the structure is only a shell until it disappears under a thick blanket of messages. "I miss you." "Please forgive me." "Even a broken crayon still colors." Intimate testaments to the most universal of human experiences, the experience of loss. The collective emotion in this place is overpowering and indescribable, before it's set afire on the last night of the event.
在燃燒人節慶中,最真實的 地方就是「寺廟」了。 2000 年,大衛貝斯特和傑克海耶 建造了第一座「寺廟」, 在活動即將開始之前, 他們的團隊中有一位成員 因為意外而喪命,這之後, 這建物就變成了湊合使用的紀念館。 它本身是很了不起的建築, 但建築物只是個外殼, 直到它被滿滿的想法訊息給覆蓋。 「我想你。」 「請原諒我。」 「即使是斷掉的蠟筆 也仍然能上色。」 這親密治療針對最普遍的人類經歷: 「失去」的經歷。 在這個地方的集體情緒 真的是過強到無法形容, 直到活動的最後一夜, 它被放火燒盡為止。
Every year, something compels people from all different walks of life, from all over the world, to go out into the desert and make art when there is no money in it. The work's not always refined, it's not always viable, it's not even always good, but it's authentic and optimistic in a way we rarely see anywhere else. In these cynical times, it's comforting to know that we're still capable of great feats of imagination, and that when we search for connection, we come together and build cathedrals in the dust.
每年,總有什麼會驅使各行各業的人 從世界各個角落 來到沙漠中並創作藝術, 而且這還是沒有錢賺的。 作品不見得一定都很精製, 不見得一定都很可行, 甚至不見得一定都很好, 但它們都是真實的、樂觀的, 這點在其他地方是很罕見的。 在這憤世嫉俗的時代, 很讓人欣慰的是知道我們 仍然有非凡的想像能力, 且當我們在尋找連結時, 我們能團結在一起, 從塵土中建起大教堂。
Forget the price tags. Forget the big names. What is art for in our contemporary world if not this?
把價格標籤忘掉。 把名人的名字忘掉。 在我們現代的世界裡, 若這不是藝術,什麼才是藝術?
Thank you.
謝謝。
(Applause)
(掌聲)