從邊緣推進核心的記憶工程_如果,在邊緣,畫一個座標

文.圖/吳介祥

Pushing Toward The Center—A Memorial Programming

Written by WU Chieh-Hsiang

今年第二屆在綠島的人權藝術季策展人一樣是羅秀芝,作品量較去年大,因而能把厚重的策展論述的量撐起來。所有台灣藝術家的作品都是針對策展主題新作,國外藝術家則有相關議題的舊作。策展人從邊緣和他者的理論,啟動藝術家的創作構思,我認為首先回應了邊緣性的作品便是許家維的《兩個考古場景》,以綠島做為航海圖誌上的一個點出發,而將我們一般人對綠島的印象-潛水,連結到打撈歷史遺物的實蹟,也就是中研院的水下沈船考古任務。而出土/水的則是虛構的考古物件,是許家維訪查了同樣是考古學家的受難者王鴻博的手工陶藝品。水下考古讓人有沉冤/真相出土的聯想,而一艘在太小的展示櫃,破玻璃而出的船,似乎也是對史實的可保存性、可展示性的質疑。

3D複製的物件突顯了藝術的虛構性的能動性,持續的將歷史從文獻和史料的存記模式拖引到眼前,翻攪被疊壓而消失的記憶。插破玻璃櫃的船,讓我聯想到印卡修尼巴爾(Yinka Shonibare)在倫敦大英藝廊前的特拉法加廣場(Trafalgar Square)上的第四柱(因為沒有經費而空著的柱子,每年徵選藝術家作品)上的瓶子中的納爾遜海軍中將旗艦(Nelson’s Ship in a Bottle),利用瓶子和戰役接近的發音,呈現皇家海軍勝利號戰艦,這艘英國皇家海軍的一級風帆戰艦在1778年美國獨立戰爭爆發時參與阿申特島戰役(Battle of Ushant) ,並於1797年法國大革命時,參與聖文生角之役(Battle of Cape St Vincent),大勝西班牙海軍。此後又在1805年參與特拉法加之役(Battle of Trafalgar)大破法國與西班牙聯合艦隊而聞名。勝利號戰艦現在停放於英國樸次茅斯海軍基地(Her Majesty's Naval Base, Portsmouth)。

印卡修尼巴爾做為從非洲移民到英國的藝術家,將這艘船的帆換成非洲的花布(印卡修尼巴爾的特色),並放進傳統收藏船模型的瓶子裡,檢視英國東征西討而成為殖民強國的歷程,也同時反思了「展示」歷史和「收藏」戰利品,總是勝利方的特權。許家維擅長從傳說、口述史或物件史,以及人所不及的視角(例如吊高攝影、空拍機或潛水攝影)重構歷史,引發非常強大的改寫記憶的潛力。《兩個考古場景》從一個受難史發展到一個島的地理史,翻轉個人生命磨難在檔案裡的幽微性,也讓受難者記憶不僅只以單一論述存在,同時又破櫃而出的船模型,也意在突破人權園區「博物館化」的疑慮。

突破綠島地理邊緣性,還有張恩滿的《眺島》,藝術家從受難者歐陽文在綠島上對袒胸的原住民婦女產生的純淨之慕出發,而將赫拉克斯(Heracles)欲或從希拉(Hera)身上獲得神性的希臘銀河系神話作連結。希臘神話和地理學有很大的關係,在希臘多類型的地形上,山丘、地震、洋流和火山(奧林帕斯山,地理上是火山,神話上是眾神的所在)既有威脅,也是孕育多重生命的自然資源,遷移和航海需要星象的辨識和導航,是人們對自然界循環的大智慧的運用,也以天文地理環境塑造神祉來描寫各種神/人性的對照。綠島應該也曾承載過達悟族、太魯閣族或卑南族的神話,卻儘管風景絕佳,卻因為地處邊緣而成為政權的監禁之島。張恩滿利用與自然連結的兩支敘事,一是綠島做為孵化孕育生命的

大自然代表,和純然的施予的原住民生命態度;二是以地理上的特色和資源來對照人的作為。有史以來,人類總是在區劃邊陲,做為懲處、監視和囚禁的所在,特別是製造各種形式的消失、邊陲便是製造牲人(Homer Sacer) 的一種模式。政治犯必須自己撿拾和打磨咕咾石構築自己的監禁,和去年高俊宏在這裡的作品《須彌:挖洞即造山》和施昀佑北美獎入圍《築牆練習》同調,也都以不同的方式表達政治剝削權的虛妄和荒謬。張恩滿的《眺島》除了對於政治力的評論,也點出了權力導向對自然的輕蔑。而捲起的大浪和捲入的人形,和夕陽下變換斑斕的彩色玻璃,形成極大的對比。原住民被迫在這裡築牆的屈辱,和像教堂花窗的對照,是藝術在大自然裡尋找洗滌和救贖的建議吧。

一樣是一片大浪,安聖惠(Eleng Luluan)的大幅《被遺忘的消失》,手工編織和使用材質細微的魚線,竟能將大浪席捲的樣貌和威脅感呈現無疑,它是一張風景圖像,也同時是地圖,純淨的白色巨浪有極大的吸引力,趁在旁邊的黑色巨岩卻同時向巫術在魅惑觀眾。畫面像從綠島眺望海岸沿線,卻同時像兩張依偎的哀傷之臉,或是無語問天的絕望身影和沉陷入夜色的紛亂頭髮。也用到編纏的陳宣誠的《存在的座標》所用的紅色,一瞬間讓人有包紮傷口的聯想。而因交錯而隱約相連的紅色,是從海上看綠島的輪廓。《存在的座標》似有若無的暗示牆的存在,但通透的視野可以是阻擋也可以是對自由的窺望、可以是靠近與可能是離開的一瞥。這件作品的位置也是陳孟和沖洗照片的照相部原址,陳孟和曾在這裡工作,他從船上拍攝的綠島作品是另一個展場『大浪襲來—綠島新生訓導處「再叛亂」案的真相與平反』特展的入口圖版。同一個視野的兩相對照,提醒觀眾在絕美豐盛的綠島上,曾經有過多荒蕪的生命消磨,同時見證了驚人的毅力和創造力所撐起的人性尊嚴。

和綠島地理緊密聯繫的作品還有林羿綺的《回聲者群像》。這件五屏幕的作品從綠島上邀集了演出者,分別在不同的位置扮演導覽員、燈塔警衛、博物館蠟像館的清潔員、園區油漆師傅、年輕的男女新生,他們唱了中文、日文、台語、英文的初看像情歌的《不等》(林羿綺、斯馬里奧共同作詞作曲)。演出(演唱)就在作品所在的空間製作,螢幕裡的窗外和觀眾能同時望見的「勿忘在莒」,讓園區的白色恐怖時期、監獄成為博物館的時期、藝術家錄製作品的時候和觀眾面對螢幕的當下形成了共時性。林羿綺提到「以被歷史附聲的姿態,跨越動態影像對於

時間以及空間的界線」,但演員清新的「演」的美學,更讓我覺得是當代對過去詮釋的主動性,也是年輕世代對受難前輩記憶傳述的迎拒,他們不做複誦,而用自己的世代、身體視角來表達(記述)語言的多樣性,他們以自身影像疊上園區的空間記憶、製造聲響讓歷史回音,是世代對白色恐怖和不義遺址詮釋的自我賦權。

這幾件作品回應策展的邊緣標題,一方面突顯綠島因地理孤立而成為對知識界監禁之地,也突顯它至今成為交通和價位皆可及的觀光、生態、考古和博物館園區之際,所謂邊緣性的意義。它或許可以做為檢視政治操作出來的邊陲、被消費生活稀釋的白色恐怖記憶,還是被有意保留的標本,或是被封聖而阻卻了再論述的受難史?

白色恐怖的受難史如何不被標本化、聖壇化,成為貫穿世代的語言,前輩的記憶如何能內化為我們的事、成為可承傳的生命史?安魂工作隊對於國家標本有一套作法,以囚房裝置的《版畫室與標本室-的確是存在於二十世紀》分別代表國家機制的展示懲處的權力,以及人們持續轉述不義的策略。「標本室」裡有(搜人)地圖、關係圖等檔案,有象徵被處決者和象徵遺像的鏡框內稻草人和書信碎片。綑綁的稻草人帶著一點王權時代極刑的「斬首示眾」的威嚇感,也令人想到人命如草芥的比喻。在白色恐怖時代,儘管所有判決都有司法程序,但總統卻擁有直接改判死刑的獨斷全力,不但生命如草芥,法治也如灰燼。「版畫室」是安魂工作隊帶著眾人根據白色恐怖事實的視覺化,而形成一大片的版畫牆。在這個房間裡還有象徵台灣民主史「始創版畫」,黃榮燦的《恐怖的檢查》,意味所有獻給台灣的民主和人權歷程的版畫作品,皆從此開始。木刻版畫因為製作迅速,在有印刷術發明後迅速成為宗教戰爭和政治宣傳的利器,歐洲在民主革命的風潮中,木刻和蝕版畫隨著新聞報業可以大量且隨時刊行,而造就了宗教改革、啟蒙和民主革命。二十世紀木版畫的效應也隨著革命浪潮傳到了中國,卻因為是社會主義觀念的絕佳宣傳美學,在二十世紀後半期隨〈台灣新生報〉、〈中華日報〉、〈公論報〉廣為流傳,而在台灣成為極權統治者的眼中釘,版畫裡同情弱勢和社會評論的議題被壓抑,木刻版畫家也逐漸在歷年的省展(1946~)中消失。(陳樹升,魯迅˙中國新興版畫˙臺灣四○年代左翼版畫,2001,台灣美術學刊) 安魂工作隊利用「版畫室」重新開發雕刻木刻版畫的粗獷刀力、印製成品的渲染力和號召力,也啟動了眾人聆聽、轉述和再現故事的能量,不避諱地回返版畫的政治身分。

洪瑋伶和辛佩宜的《K的房間—關於世界的創造與毀滅》的K是撰寫英文字典嘉惠無數學子的柯旗化。「創造與毀滅」大約是「從A到Z」的意味,是字典的架構,也是「從始至終」的概念。在柯旗化的囚房裡,英文老師深入淺出,逐步進階地示範各種句型,而觀眾也能從切換的園區畫面和句型文法說明,體會柯旗化對飛翔的想望、對留學他鄉的想像,對家人的思念…這件作品的冷靜是最令人心碎的美學。柯旗化入罪坐監十七年,曾經自殺未遂,《K的房間》將他曾有過的絕望,透過造出標準例句的方式隱晦地表達出來。這件作品

讓我想起德裔在羅馬尼亞長大的諾貝爾文學獎主赫塔米勒(Herta Müller)的作品。赫塔米勒在羅馬尼亞的壓制政權下,同時又因為德裔而被視為納粹的遺族,在共產陣營裡遭受歧視,而無法名正言順地用自己的語言。她的文學出自必須不斷地打破語言的規則,毀棄再重組文字來表達自己被血統和身分雙重啃噬的敗壞狀態。成名作《呼吸鞦韆》(Atemschaukel)標題便是一個不存在的字,藉由抽打鞭笞文字,把身體也承受不了的疼痛挖掘出來。《K的房間》讓每個學過英文文法的人感受到深沉的憂傷,也讓觀眾看到最生命真實的,竟是假設語氣。

動員文字(無)力的作品還有王鼎曄的《親愛的,親吻我,然後,再會》。以霓虹燈拼出的台語,像相愛者親密的道別語,也像盡力以最溫暖的語氣,留下遺言。王鼎曄做為史料不完整、只能透過家族成員蒐集記憶的白色恐怖第三代,一系列的作品呈現更多的,其實是無法言說的狀態。因為事證被隱藏而模糊,或是因為埋得太深而斷掉的記憶路徑,藝術家只剩「輕微」的素材來觸碰家族的隱痛,在2017年的《勇為》的媒材是灰塵;在綠島的八卦樓入口的懸空白光霓虹燈,閩南語羅馬拼音和手寫式的字體,是為眾多與親人告別

者所做的留言。《親愛的,親吻我,然後,再會》「語氣輕微」,且字會不時顫動,讓人想像著想怕洩漏行跡,不得不簡省告別文辭的逃亡者,顫慄的身心狀態。

林子寧的《我是台灣人》把身體放進政治認同。藝術家朗誦台灣簡史的文字,卻讓「台灣」兩字被雜訊覆蓋。《我是台灣人》以集體創作的方式要參與者遮蓋台灣的聲音,並以自己的身體扮演創傷的成形,用微細的方式分配壓迫者和被壓抑者、加害人和受害人的角色。創傷被形/具體化,從藝術家的身上剪下來的紗布,隨著每次的演出疊在展場上,越疊越厚。林子寧用縫線把台灣簡史的台灣兩個字槓掉,和幾筆縫在白衣服上的紅線象徵創傷。紅線像刺進皮膚而汨血,每個傷口都不大不深,但卻都在堆疊著傷害。林子寧似乎有意讓「台灣人」在國族、政治體制、文化或地理上的曖昧繼續懸置,台灣是一個地方、國家或是有別於中國的政治體?「我是台灣人」的宣示為什麼一定會引發「不是XX人」的對立詮釋?集體創作出壓抑的聲音,提示了加/受害的角色選擇和結構的形成,不是一眼就可以辨認的,也常常不是可以隨時可以脫身的。

訴諸身體感的,還有侯怡亭的《沾黏的影像》,雇用幾位女性工作者用注射針將雞蛋的蛋白和蛋黃分開來,影像無塵實驗室感覺的白色調,毫無表情的工作者已經喚起科學實驗的冷漠感,而刺進雞蛋的長針頭和流出的蛋白,似乎就是生命的暗示。脆弱的蛋殼和被針筒吸出來的蛋白,以及侯怡亭用的「沾黏」的概念,把對生命的折磨的意象帶進了我們身體的最內部,人還能怎樣抵抗從生命最核心,被抽出精粹而流溢出、被曬乾和被踩碎?蛋殼是年輕身體、精神和意志?人還能怎樣跟自己的身體如何分離?侯怡亭給觀眾很難克服的,發自身體內部對生命耗損和折磨的想像。

記憶文化不限於文獻的再現或再詮釋,策展力和藝術力引發的不是紀念式的、轉敘式、說明或教育式的作品。觀眾也許是意外地進入園區,但也可能意外的被作品所牽引,甚至感受到身理或心理的衝擊。這次的展覽留給觀眾許多的掛念,對講不清楚的歷史恩怨的掛念、對還在處在陰影中的人的掛念,對還有多少人的、痛的、癒合的故事等待被說出來的掛念。

The second year of Green Island Human Rights Art Festival was curated by Sandy Lou, the same curator of the first year. More projects were included this year, sufficiently supporting the very heavy curatorial discourse. All invited Taiwanese artists created new works for the Festival, and foreign artists presented their earlier projects echoing the themes. Setting out from theories regarding marginality and the Other, the curator engaged artists to derive their thoughts in art forms. The first artwork responding to marginality, I think, was the Two Archaeological Scenes by Hsu Chia-Wei. It made Green Island a starting point on a navigation map and connected our stereotypical impression of Green Island as a diving paradise with the salvage of historic relics conducted by the Academia Sinica. The pieces shown as excavated objects were Hsu’s replicas of archaeologist Wang Hung-Po’s handmade ceramic works. Representing the works of Wang Hung-Po, a White Terror victim, we couldn’t help but associate surfaced truth that had been underwater for a long time. The boat breaking the glass and stretching out from the display case suggested the questionable preservability and presentability of the history.

The 3-dimensional replicas outlined the dynamics of the fictionality of art and brought historical archives among other materials to our attention with different memorial forms, stirring the buried or fading memories again. The boat breaking the case reminded me of British-Nigerian artist Yinka Shonibare’s work presented on the Fourth Plinth on Trafalgar Square in front of the National Gallery in London (The Fourth Plinth had been bare due to insufficient funding and each year an artwork is selected to be displayed on it). Shonibare’s work was Nelson’s Ship In A Bottle, making use of the pronunciation of “bottle” sounding similar to “battle”. Nelson’s Ship was one of the ships named HMS Victory, a first-rate flagship that fought in the Battle of Ushant against French fleet  in 1778, during the American Revolutionary War. And in 1797, during the French Revolution, it defeated Spanish Navy in the Battle of Cape St Vincent. In 1805, Nelson’s Ship conquered the joint Franco-Spanish fleet in the Battle of Trafalgar. Currently Nelson’s Ship is harbored at Her Majesty’s Naval Base in Portsmouth.

Yinka Shonibare is an African-British artist, he replaced the sailcloth with African flower patterned fabric (the artist’s signature style) and put the ship into a bottle that was how ship models usually are presented. It was to look into the history of Britain becoming a powerful colonialist through battles all over the waters. At the same time, it reflected the invaried rule that the  “historical display” and “trophy collection” are the privilege of victors. Hsu Chia-Wei is very good at reconstructing history by making use of legends, oral history, discovered objects, and unusual visual angles (photography from above, by drone, or through diving) that surely would impact our memories. From a person’s wronged past to an island’s history, the Two Archaeological Scenes reversed the obscurity of the hardship one had endured in the historic archives, meanwhile, giving ideas regarding the victim’s memory more than just a single form. The model ship’s breaking out of the display case also questioned the musealization of the  White Terror Memorial Park.

Another project breaking through the marginality of Green Island was Chang En-Man’s Milky Way. One of the victims Ouyang Wen remembered he was amazed and awed when seeing indigenous women’s bare breasts in Green Island. Chang En-Man therefore adopted the Greek myth of Heracles getting divinity from Hera. Greek myths had much to do with geography, for the country had been under threats of earthquakes, ocean tides, and volcanic explosions (Mount Olympus, home of gods, is a volcano). On the other hand, it impregnated diverse beings with abundant natural resources because of its unusual geographical conditions. And relocating or sailing needed celestial navigation that human beings had learned from the cycles of nature before restyling them, according to astronomic and geographic knowledge, into stories of deities and humans. Green Island had been inhabited by Tao, Taroko and Puyuma peoples, although it had stunning landscapes, it was used to isolate prisoners by the regime. In her art project, Chang developed two narrative lines, one told the stories of rich lives nourished by Green Island and the indigenous peoples’ attitude toward life. Another was human’s intervention of Green Island’s geographic features and resources. Since the known history, marginalized places are used to incarcerate and punish people who are to be eradicated, or to be disqualified as humans. Political prisoners here were ordered to pick and carve rocks to construct walls to confine themselves. In the 2019 Festival, artist Kao Jun-Honn’s Sumeru: Caving Is Orogeny and Shih Yun-You’s Mending Wall, A Practice also accentuated the absurdity and groundlessness in political exploitation at that time. In 2020, the Milky Way criticised the politics and the power holders’ contempt for nature. In this work, the ideas regarding the human figures devoured by tides constituted a stark contrast to the brilliantly changing light of the stained glass. Isn’t it the artist’s suggestion that, in the church-like ambiance and art in nature, we might find redemption for the humiliation the victims had to endure when forced to build walls and the deprivation the indigenous people had to suffer when forced to relocate?

In Eleng Luluan’s The Forgotten Vanishing, big waves were represented by hand weaving of fine fishing threads, which lively expressed the threatening power of the sea. The weaving was a landscape as well as a map;  pure white waves have strong sucking forces, luring spectators by the gigantic black rocks with witchcraft. It’s a gaze of the Green Island from seashore, also resembling two saddened faces leaning against one another. Were they speechless and in despair, fading into their own unkempt hair and the blue night?

In Eric Chen’s Coordinate Being, sticks wrapped by red threads gave an impression of bandaged wounds. The vaguely visible red wraps constituted a profile of the Green Island from the sea. It could be a hurrued glance when approaching or leaving. This artwork obscurely implied the existence of walls that failed to block outward views and desire for freedom. The site was where Chen Meng-He, a prisoner decades ago, had developed films of the photos he took. Chen Meng-He’s later photographs of Green Island from a boat had been displayed at the gate of exhibition “Huge Waves Attack — Revealing the truths and redressing the case of ‘re-rebellion’ at the New Life Correction Center on Green Island”. The two works from the same angle remind us that in this gorgeous island, many lives had been consumed or wasted, but not their dignity, thanks to their admirable resistance and creativity.

Lin Yi-Chi’s Group Portrait of The Echoers also regarded the geographic features of Green Island. Five screens played the performance of a tour guide, a lighthouse guard, a cleaner of wax statues in the museum, a house painter of the memorial park, and the new coming young freshman and freshwoman. In the videos, they sang “Waiting for Nothing” (composed and written by Simario and Lin Yi-Chi) in Chinese, Japanese, Taiwanese and English, like singing a love song. It was on-site performance, spectators outside of the windows or through the screens could see the inscription of Chiang Kei-Shek’s word: “Forget Not The Days of Displacement From Our Motherland”. The period of White Terror, the time when the prison was transformed into a museum, and when the artist was recording her work were presented in synchrony. Lin Yi-Chi said it was “going across the boundary of time and space in animated images with a manner of being possessed by the ghosts of history”. From the artless performance, I see the aesthetics from the spontaneity of interpreting the past, although not without young generations’ ambivalent feelings to the stories of the victims. They decided not to repeat what they were told, but through their own angles and diverse narratives to cover the spatial memories with their own bodies and the images of the bodies to produce echoes of the history. It was the younger generations self-empowered interpretation of the past White Terror and the historical sites of injustice.

The aforementioned projects responded to the theme of marginality, not only its past role as a place confining rebellion intellectuals because of its geographic isolation, but also the new significance under the trends in tourism, ecological studies, archaeological discovery and museological development today. Might it suggest the marginality manipulated politically, memories of White Terror diluted by consumerism, or historical specimens carefully preserved, or consecrated stories that are no longer discussed?

How can we avoid the consecration or embalmment of the victimhood? How can we internalize the memories of the aging victims and pass on their life stories to coming generations? The Libera Work-Gang established a system to present national specimens. In the cells, The Print Studio and Specimen Room Did Exist in the 20th Century represented the punitive power of the state apparatus as well as the strategies of passing on stories of state injustice. In the Specimen Room, maps of victims being searched and charts of their relationship were presented with framed portraits of the executed, straw men, and fragments of letters, among other symbolizing objects. The straw men were reminiscent of those executed publicly during the monarchy, implying that human lives were treated no better than strawgrass. In the White Terror period, although all the trials were proceeded in the courts and decided by judges, President Chiang Kai-Shek still had the power to change the sentences to capital punishment. Human lives and the rule of law were completely disregarded. In the Print Studio were the visualized White Terror. The woodcut prints covering up the walls were made during the workshops of the Libera Work-Gang. The original woodcut inspiring the fights for freedom as well as this project was also found in this room—The Terrible Inspection by Huang Yung-Tsan, also a victim of White Terror. These woodcut prints are dedicated to Taiwan’s democratization and human rights restoration. The printable woodcuts or etching had been applied during the religious revolutions,  enlightenment, and democratization in Europe, for they were easy to print  in mass quantities at any place and any time. Woodcutting was passed to China in the 20th century, becoming perfect tools to spread ideals of socialism with its unique aesthetics. And during the later half of the 20th century, similar works were passed around through Taiwan Shing Sheng Daily News, China Daily News, and Taiwan Tribune, among other publications. They became the pain in the neck of the regime, thus social issues regarding minorities among other political comments were repressed. According to Chen Shu-Sheng’s “Lu Xun and Woodcut Art in the 1940s in China and the Rising Left-wing Art in Taiwan”, woodcut artists were excluded from art competitions in Taiwan since 1946 (Journal of National Museum of Fine Arts, 2001). With the print workshops, the Libera Work-Gang has rediscovered the magnetism of the wild style of woodcutting and the outreach effect of their prints. Through the participation of more and more people, these stories have regained their lives and are renarrated, and the political nature of woodcutting is no longer a taboo.

K’s Room—the Creation and Destruction of the World  by Hung Wei-Ling and Hsin Pei-Yi was about Ke Qi-Hua, a victim and an author of English dictionary and grammar books that helped numerous students. “From creation to destruction” was compared to “From A to Z”, an arrangement not unlike a dictionary that starts from the beginning to the last in alphabet order. In his cell, Mr. Ke demonstrated each vocabulary and sentence, from simple ones to more complicated examples. Through the switching scenes between the park and the teaching, the audience could feel Mr. Ke’s desires to fly away, to study overseas, and to be united with his family. The calmness contained in the extraordinary aesthetics of this art project was heartbreaking. Ke Qi-Hua had been incarcerated for 17 years and had attempted to take his own life. K’s Room subtly expressed his despair through the example sentences. I was reminded of the Nobel Literature Laureate Herta Müller, a German speaking Romanian and was oppressed by the Communist regime as the descendant of Nazi Germany. In Romania, she couldn’t speak her own language, thus her writing must endlessly break the rules of languages, like destroying them before rearranging them as a strategy to express the traumas of enduring double erosion of her parentage and identity.  Müller’s best known novel Atemschaukel used a word that did not really exist, it was her way of whipping the words in order to mirror the pain beyond one’s body could tolerate. Represented by subjunctive sentences, the most truthful life of Ke Qi-Hua in K’s Room saddened everyone who ever learned English from his books.

The powerfulness or powerlessness of words also could be seen in Wang Ting-Yeh’s My Dear, Kiss Me And Goodbye. The words in Taiwanese manufactured by neon light tubes were an intimate farewell, whose speaker gave out the last comfort he could offer with warmth. Wang Ting-Yeh is the third generation of a victim, but the materials he could find were fragmental, what he could only rely on were the incomplete memories of the other members of his family. So the artist was dealing with the speechlessness of the victimhood. Whether the obscurity was because the evidence had been hidden, or because the memories had been buried is unknown. The artist was left with very limited elements to investigate the invisible pain in his family. Compared to his Confronting Memories in 2017, an artwork made with ash, these hand-writing Taiwanese words spelled by Roman phonetics and hung at the entrance of the Bagua Building was a message the artist made for those who had needed to say goodbye to their beloved. “My dear, kiss me and goodbye”, tenderly, these words trembled slightly in the air, like fugitives afraid to reveal their traces had to save their words of farewell.

Lin Tzu-Ning’s _______What We Cannot Say included one’s body in identity politics. The artist read a brief history of Taiwan, but whenever Taiwan was pronounced, performance participants would make noises to disturb it. At the same time the artist used her own body to demonstrate the cause of harm whenever a declaration was made. The roles of the oppressors, the oppressed, perpetrators and victims were carefully assigned to demonstrate how traumas were formed physically. As the performance was repeated, the pieces of gauze cut from the wrap the artist was wearing piled up. And in the brief history of Taiwan, Lin Tzu-Ning crossed over the word Taiwan with red thread. Like the red lines over her white clothes, they were cuts still oozing blood. Each cut was shallow, but the damages added up. In her artwork, Lin Tzu-Ning kept Taiwan’s position ambiguous in terms of nation, political system, culture and geography. Is Taiwan a place, a country, or an entity other than China? Why would pledging “I am a Taiwanese” certainly would provoke the statement “I am not a XXX”? Collective actions of repression allowed us to see the history of persecution; it was not easy to tell, and it was not easy to break away, either.