恐怖文法的例句演練與跨域振幅:2020綠島人權藝術季的邊境藝術
文/龔卓軍
Sentence Drills for Grammar of Terror and Cross-Disciplinary Amplitude: Fringe Art at the 2020 Green Island Human Rights Art Festival
Written by GONG Jow-Jiun

If I had a car, I should be very happy.

If I were a bird, I could fly.

What would you do if you were in my place?

If I could go abroad, I would go to Japan.           ──柯旗化,《新英文法》例句

 

秋田公立藝術大學在2017年出版了《邊境藝術最前線:生存所需的藝術經營》一書,書中呈現了秋田公立藝術大學、地方媒體、郡治旅遊部門與隸屬中央的文化廳支持合作,在秋田地區與公眾共創的文化藝術實踐活動成果。這個關於「邊境藝術」(Fringe Art)的文化藝術計畫就特定地域中的特定議題,如位於日本東北邊境的秋田男鹿半島、南秋田郡、五城目町,由秋田公立藝大學內部的相關研究與實踐者推動,從2015年開始,發展了各式各樣的文化藝術計畫。當我踏上綠島,這個國境東南的重要「邊境」,心念著要去參訪綠島人權藝術季的同時,卻被身邊各式各樣的潛水、海邊溫泉等旅遊訊息圍繞時,我不禁產生了一些關於「策展」的疑問,但與其用「策展」來說明我的疑問,不如用「藝術經營」(Art Management)來得準確,因為,我想綠島人權藝術季的策展人與團隊,或許最費心的問題,就是相較於海島觀光的傳統項目,究竟如何吸引「黑暗觀光」的特定客群、地方民眾與不同的藝術團隊,來到這個屬於偏遠邊境的監獄遺址,參與藝術欣賞、人權教育推廣,進而投入相關黑暗複雜歷史的研究計畫?

參與設計二二八紀念館與綠島人權紀念園區規畫與展示設計的曹欽榮,《流麻溝十五號:綠島女生隊及其他》的作者,曾經在公共電視的訪問中指出,展示內容的獨特訊息、人的深度聯結與互動品質,才是博物館空間的藝術經營核心考驗。而日本哲學家鶴見俊輔也曾經主張美術館與學院中生產的「純粹藝術」(Pure-art)、趨向實用消費與空間構造和大眾媒體中生產的「大眾藝術」(Popular-art)、以及在藝術與庶民生活邊界上生產出來的「限界藝術」(Marginal-art)三者之間的基源與互滲關係,可能是當代策展與藝術經營──諸如位於日本豪雪地帶的越後妻有大地藝術祭──的地域思考中,最具有挑戰性的複雜議題。

因此,本文的目的,就是從「邊境藝術」與「限界藝術」這兩個概念的藝術實踐與策展經營出發,思考與評論綠島做為重要的現代國家「邊境」與現代藝術「限界」的戰爭交錯之地,如何面對「2020綠島人權藝術季:如果,在邊緣,畫一個座標」這樣一個策展的命題鋪陳。

賤斥:邊緣處境的例句練習

首先,這是一個藝術大學與民眾參與的邊緣處境例句練習計畫。從王寶萱透過一年的課程帶領、踏訪而生產出來的〈記憶.邊緣〉北藝大特展,我們可以看到張羽儀基於獄中家書/遺書而形構出來的〈被〉,將所有的動詞句法前加上被動式介詞的「被」,並加以語音化,置入獨居房角落的洗浴空間中,以鐵網層疊包覆成一朵觀眾必須將頭部小心伸入的雲中。在語音唸白形成的反覆音韻中,結合了王亨愉、徐紹恩、黃心慈的〈白色訓導〉和〈複耗的公轉〉,以光暗交替的慢速旋轉、撞擊和機械性磨蝕,締造出整區空間的特有韻律,例句、震動、聲音、韻律,破碎的頭顱與磨蝕後四散於地的白色粉末,將被侮辱者與被賤斥者的邊緣處境和極限存在感,投射在猶如身處火宅的酷熱展示環境中,重新聆聽、重新複習政治犯家書與遺書中的那些歷史「例句」。

然而,新生訓導處和綠洲山莊的場所經驗中,依據《簡明台灣史》的作者楊碧川口述,其實也是一個共學的、和民眾互動的場所。曾被關押在新生訓導處和綠洲山莊(八卦樓)二樓第六區的柯旗化,可以說是政治受難者在極限處境中進行「例句書寫」的典型。洪瑋伶和辛佩宜的〈K的房間──關於世界的創造與毀滅〉,充分地展現了這個展覽引導觀眾參與邊緣處境中的例句練習的動機。同為創傷例句的發出聲音,與〈被〉不一樣的是,〈K的房間〉中所唸誦的例句,是政治受難者柯旗化在全國銷售兩百萬本以上的《新英文法》中的英文文法例句。這些例句,是更為破碎、更為壓抑、更接近賤斥為無物的外國文字的存在。

If I had a car, I should be very happy.這個例句的壓抑腔調,在沒有特定語音、韻律與唸白者臉孔出現之前,甚至是連它內蘊的壓抑腔調,都無法為任何人所發現。它是某種長期潛在的、受賤斥的文學。我們甚至無法承認它可以稱為「文學」。或許,任何熟讀卡夫卡那冷淡而極限低調的讀者,都無法想像如何將《新英文法》的寫作視為任何一種可辨識的「監獄文學」。然而,我們在黃崇凱2017年發表於《文藝春秋》的小說〈狄克生片語〉中,讀到了這些破碎的條件句例句第一次的解壓縮、超展開。賤斥的文學,在被代理、被解壓縮的過程中,才得以出現。這些文法例句陳述的是「表示跟現在(或未來)的事實相反地假設和想像」。小說家說:「當初他重新修訂至這個章節,發覺要不是能以這個形式寫作,自己可能活不下來。每個草擬的例句,都在幫他界定時空處境。正因為如此,他可以想像買了車,到處遊覽(If I had a car, I should be very happy.);想像自己是一隻鳥,可以自由飛翔(If I were a bird, I could fly.)。對那些壓制他人的人丟出問句,假如現在你處在我這個地位,你將怎麼辦呢?(What would you do if you were in my place?)藉著句型練習,深深地隱藏心底的願望。」(註1)對於「受賤斥」的限界藝術來說,或許連小說敘事中的這些詮釋,都屬多餘,然而對不明白色恐怖究裡的民眾而言,這些言詮又屬不得不然。

*註1:黃崇凱,〈狄克生片語〉,收錄於胡叔雯、童偉格主編,《讓過去成為此刻:臺灣白色恐怖小說選卷二,眾聲歸來》,臺北市:春山出版,2020年,頁336。

影音與臉孔:跨域的振幅

如果能夠把多餘的詮釋加以消減至最低限,在表現形式給出邊緣處境的極限存在感,文學似乎仍有其限度。這便是〈K的房間〉幾乎可以說是位於「如果,在邊緣,畫一個座標」這個展覽的「展覽之眼」的重要理由。洪瑋伶和辛佩宜兩位導演在第六區的牢房裡,選擇了影音、臉孔的唸白演出、美國人訪綠島的紀錄影像蒙太奇剪接和200字限制內家書投影的跨域裝置。小說中的詮釋被消減了,機械性的聲音和具體的臉孔出現了,但我們卻沒辦法辨識出英語教師臉孔上微細變化的表情,只剩下聲音強度和韻律變化中的聲音表情,和房間對側、觀眾身後冷不防傳來的馬桶沖水聲。文法練習錄音機、搖椅、小小閉路電視中的海水模糊影像,K在房間中無止盡的文法修訂與家書寫作情境,這些投影與環境物件的交互震盪,如此地破碎不堪,如此地沒有希望,突顯了這些文法句型練習中隱藏的情動力。

雙格切割畫面與單格畫面投影,交互呈現著每個例句反覆唸兩次的韻律,第一次以英文字幕呈現句子,第二次以中文字幕呈現翻譯。但是,影像內容卻依次剪接了表演者唸著書上文法上的例句。影片的開始,由第一人稱的無聲回憶文字導入,綠島的美國駐台官員參訪歷史影像、新聞紙報檔案影像,然後才由語言學習機引入似有所指的連串名詞、介系詞、動詞,綠島感訓監獄的環境影像,以及家書往返的檔案影像,投映疊映在唸誦者的臉孔上,海水淘洗的影像,以及在書法書寫的墨汁中,例句暗示柯旗化阿茲海默症造成的遺化與創傷歷史的遺忘。在15分鐘的影音作品中,Bird can fly. Flowers bloom. I am teaching English now. This is where I work. I have lived here for ten years. They made me a prisoner.與這些看來不相連貫的例句練習相搭配的雙格畫面,顯示的是監獄牢房房間中的唸白者與自由飛翔的鳥、盛開的植物和單調空白牢房的依次對比,在家書影像的左右向、類對話的會話練習之後,最後,做為被賤斥處境中的祈使命令句型和極端不可能的願望句型對比出現,在非事實的現在與非事實的未來句法中,整個氛圍被推向令人難忍、造成情緒激動卻又壓抑至極的If I were a bird, I could fly.與突如其來的Can I go now?和再一次透過克漏字反覆被強調的We are still learning English grammar. 直至「遺忘」的主題出現He forgot what (way) to go。

至此,不論是「邊境藝術」的地誌拓樸學,或是「限界藝術」的生活與藝術互滲之處的探索,似乎都不足以突顯綠島感訓監獄的場所特異性,綠島「邊緣藝術」的意旨,於是在跨越地域、跨越藝術介面的領域化、跨越藝術與生活的界限,落在柯旗化做為文法教育者、文學書寫者和政治受難者的邊緣內蘊生命處境中。換句話說,唯有往返參照柯旗化的生命綿延與其強度,觀眾才能夠理解與感受〈K的房間〉的內蘊強度;反過來說,也唯有在受到〈K的房間〉影音現地裝置的強度衝擊中,觀眾也才有可能挖掘出《新英文法》例句練習背後的作者生命內蘊。這種跨域的強度振幅,橫越過現代國家與世界的破碎分段,在班雅明所謂的歷史殘破廢墟中,重新揀拾拼湊起看似無意義的碎片,而感受到那些漂流於無望而巨大符號洋流中的微弱求救訊號。

洋流:邊緣即是另類的通道

事實上,〈K的房間:關於世界的創造與毀滅〉很巧妙地為整個展覽創造出一個連通了許多重要作品的通道。譬如:關於鳥的自由飛翔的例句練習,與阿許米娜.蘭吉特(Ashmina Ranjit)的〈迷陷〉中的鳥籠形成的共振;王鼎曄透過霓虹燈與震動裝置構造出來的〈親愛的,親吻我,然後,再會〉台語祈使句,與柯旗化的英文祈使句型形成的共振;林子寧〈不能說的是___〉錄像行為藝術中關於民眾參與「告別動作」的動作句法創作和守門人角色的「紀錄」監視句法書寫,以及〈我是台灣人〉的「禁聲」聲音句法的民眾參與創作;蔡佳葳錄像投影裝置〈數字〉中流淌消溶於冰塊上的墨寫數字和冷調的數字唸誦,〈我們牽掛的歌〉的聲音錄像投影中,關於密碼式、壓縮式的情動陳述與聲音表情;張恩滿〈眺島〉中錄像行為表演搬運石頭的勞動,與原民島嶼相關地域的紀錄片檔案中,原民青年的臉孔、個體性、表現性和願望主張的被抹除處境。〈K的房間〉成了一個歷史創傷的通道,If I were a bird, I could fly.這樣的句法練習,猶如將被賤斥者、受辱者的邏輯,做成一個凝縮的、蜂巢式的表現團塊,從觀者體內打開了整個展覽的隱密聯結網絡。而林羿綺的〈迴聲者群像〉,更透過五頻道的回應政治受難者與遺址中的歌唱演出影音,開展出遺址場所本身自我更新、反覆吟唱的慰靈迴旋返復曲。簡單地說,以〈K的房間〉為代表的聲音、重演、再演繹的影音行動,構成了「如果,在邊緣,畫一個座標」的嶄新座標與創傷療癒的可能通道,一個「展覽之眼」。

最後,在這些通道之外,我們當然不能忽略由版畫介面所延伸出來的傅聖雅的〈南國之霓〉,和安魂工作隊的〈版畫室與標本室──的確是存在於二十世紀〉,這兩個版畫系列既朝向過去、也朝向未來。特別是安魂工作隊持續性的「群」集創作演繹,已經明顯超過了做為這個展覽單一作品的計畫範圍,而形成複多式的、迴響式的、連動式的集群式生產主體,指向單一作者藝術模式的界限。這是鶴見俊輔「限界藝術」的本格意涵所在。換句話說,我們已經快分不清安魂工作隊是把這些生產當做生活,還是當做藝術,但正因為如此,這個行動計畫最接近「限界藝術」的藝術生產理念,它是生活脈絡中的「生育」,而不是工業製造中的「生產」。

然而,許家維的〈兩個考古場景〉帶著我們回到綠島與考古學的兩個交會點,藉由3D列印的模型裝置,一艘沉船和1953年遭到白色恐怖槍決命運的業餘考古學家王鴻博所做的陶皿,讓我們發現了一個更為禁聲的歷史黯啞場所:考古學觀點下的綠島洋流海域。也就是說,在「邊境藝術」的觀點下,或許做為國境邊緣的綠島,還有與白色恐怖與島上的政治受難者交會的另一個綠島,在我們身處的主流論述場域之外,還有另一個座標下的綠島。

就像顏世鴻在《青島東路三號:我的百年之憶及台灣的荒謬年代》一書中,關於火燒島的回憶敘事裡,其實有不少人類學、民俗學與考古學線索。譬如:顏世鴻在第拾參章〈一九五一年,火燒島記憶〉的敘述文字(柯旗化就是在這一年被送到火燒島新生訓導處感訓的),花了不少篇幅描述的是一位老島民的回憶。這位老島民描述了俄國波羅的海艦隊在1905年五月日俄戰爭期間,大批通過火燒島的壯觀場面;1944年十月美國58機動艦隊大舉轟炸台灣時,在綠島附近駐留的景象;當然,他也沒有錯過1945年參與沖繩戰役的一千多艘艦艇通過綠島到東海參戰的大場面。有趣的是,這個東亞戰爭的脈絡在二戰後並沒有停止。冷戰格局下的美國第七艦隊航母群,不斷由北向南航經綠島至少有五次,透過在島上目睹第七艦隊的航行,顏世鴻把自己親眼所見的洋流艦隊風景與這位老人的記憶聯結了起來。這樣的綠島,已經是以太平洋流和戰爭機器為座標的另一個歷史與未來的通道了。同時朝向過去與未來的戰船航行之域,許家維的〈兩個考古場景〉,意味著人權季展覽所謂的「畫一個座標」,其實是向藝術家與觀眾提出了一個祈使句的例句練習題:「請在邊緣,畫出某一個尚未被看見過的座標」。

If I had a car, I should be very happy.

If I were a bird, I could fly.

What would you do if you were in my place?

If I could go abroad, I would go to Japan.           -- Ko Chi-Hua, Sentence Examples, New English Grammar

The Akita University of Art published the book On the front line of fringe art: art management for survival in 2017, which presents the final results of the public-engaged art and cultural events in Akita in collaboration with the Akita University of Art, local media, the  Tourism Bureau of County Town, and the Agency of Cultural Affairs, which is affiliated with the central government. Researchers and practitioners of the Akita University of Art facilitated the art and cultural project, “Fringe Art,” in response to specific issues in specific regions, such as the Oga peninsula, Akita, Minamiakita District, and Gojome. Since 2015, they have developed a variety of arts and cultural programs. When I step on Green Island, an important “fringe” in the southeastern part of the country, I was thinking about visiting the Green Island Human Rights Art Festival; however, I was surrounded by all sorts of tourist information about diving and seaside hot springs. I couldn’t help but think of several questions of “curation.” Yet, rather than using the word “curation” to elaborate my questions, the term “Art Management” would be more accurate. Insofar as, in my opinion, as opposed to the traditional island tourism, the challenges for the curator and curatorial team of the Green Island Human Rights Art Festival is how to attract a specific audience of “dark tourism,” local residents, and various art collectives to participate in this remote prison site for art viewing, human rights education and research project about the dark and complex local history.

Cao Qin-Rong, who participated in the planning and design of the Taipei 228 Memorial Museum and the Green Island White Terror Memorial Park, and the author of The Riptide 15: Green Island Girl Team and Beyond, once pointed out in a Public Television Service interview that the unique messages within the exhibitions, the deep human connection, and the quality of interaction are the core challenges of museum’s art management. The Japanese philosopher Shunsuke Tsurumi has also argued that the origin and interpenetrating relationship among “pure-art” produced in museums and academies, “popular-art” formed in practical consuming and spatial structure and mass media, and “marginal-art” created on the borderline between art and everyday life is perhaps the most challenging and complex issues in the regional thinking of contemporary curation and art management, such as the Echigo-Tsumari Art Field Festival in Japan’s Gosetsu Chitai (heavy snow area). 

Therefore, this article aims to consider and criticize how Green Island, as the intersection of the “border” of a modern nation-state and the “margin” of modern art, confronts the curatorial theme of “If on the margin, draw a coordinate— 2020 Green Island Human Rights Art Festival” from the artistic practices and curatorial operation of the two concepts of “border art” and “marginal art.”

 

Abjection: Sentence Drill for the Marginal Situation

First of all, this is a public-engaged sentence drill project run by the art university. The special exhibition “Remembrance and Marginalization” of the Taipei National University of the Arts presents the results of field research and interview done in Wang Pao-Hsuan’s one-year course. Here, the audience can see Chang Yu-Yi’s “-ed,” based on the home letter/ death note written in prison. By attached the affix “-ed” to all the verbs found in the letters, Chang turns them into passive voice and voice records those documents, place the sound device in a cloud-like wire mesh installation at the corner of the bathing area at the corner of the single room. The audience should carefully put their head in the installation to hear the voice-recording. The repetitive chanting connects “White Discipline” and the subsidiary work “Repeated Revolution” by Wang Heng-Yu, Hsu Soul-N, and Huang Hsin-Tze. The slow rotation, clash, and mechanical abrasion of alternating light and darkness create the unique rhythm, sentence drills, vibrations, and sound of the entire space. The shattered skulls and the white powder scattered on the ground reflect the marginal situation and extreme existence of the humiliated and the abject in a burning hot exhibition space as a fired house. The audience is allowed to re-listen to and review those historical “sentence drills” in the home letters and death note of those political prisoners.

However, according to Yang Bi-Chuan, the author of A Brief History of Taiwan, the New Life Correction Center and the Oasis Villa were also spaces for co-learning and communication with the public. Ko Chih-Hua, who was once detained in the New Life Correction Center and the 6th section on the second floor in the Oasis Villa, Bagua Building, was a typical political prisoner who did “sentence drill exercise” under extreme conditions. In “K’s Room- the Creation and Destruction of the World,” the artists Hung Wei-Ling and Hsin Pei-Yi fully demonstrate the exhibition’s motivation to engage the audience in the sentence drill exercise in the marginal situation. In contrast to “-ed,” the artists recite sentence examples found in Ko Chih-Hua’s New English Grammar, which has been sold for more than two million copies in Taiwan. These sentence examples are more fragmented, more depressed, and closer to the abject foreign texts.

"If I had a car, I should be very happy." This sentence's depressing tone cannot be found and remain silent until there is a specific voice, rhythm, or narrator to presenting it. It is a specific genre of long-term hidden, potential, and repudiated abject literature. We cannot even acknowledge that it can be considered as "literature." Perhaps readers familiar with the cold and minimalist tone in Kafka's works cannot imagine the New English Grammar as any recognizable "prison literature." However, in "Essential Idioms in English by Dixson" by Huang Chong-Kai in his novel The Contents of the Times, we read the first decompressed, plot-twisted fragmented sentences. The literature of abjection emerges only in the process of being represented and decompressed. These grammatical sentence examples stand for the conditional tense, "indicating that the speaker regards the antecedent as impossible or unlikely." The novelist says, "when Dixson revised the chapter, he realized that he might not have survived if he hadn't written in this form. Every drafted sentence examples helped him to identify his situation. In this way, he imagined that if he had bought a car, he could travel around (If I had a car, I should be very happy), imagining if he were a bird, then he could fly (If I were a bird, I could fly). He even tried to ask those who oppress others in the question, 'What would you do if you were in my place?' With the sentence drills, he hid his deepest wished." To the "abject" marginal art, these interpretations for the novel may be superfluous; however, these explanations are inevitable for those unaware of the White Terror.

Audiovisuality and Faces: the Cross-Discipline Amplitude

If we reduce the redundant interpretations to a minimal level, and the extreme presence expresses its marginal situation, literature seems to have its limits. This is the significant reason why "K's Room" can almost be regarded as the "core of the exhibition" of If on the Margin, Draw a Coordinate. In the cell in the 6th section, two directors Hung Wei-Ling and Hsin Pei-Yi choose to present the audiovisual face reading performance, a montage of images of Americans visiting Green Island, and a cross-disciplinary installation projecting home letters within 200 characters. Interpretations in the novel were eliminated; thus, it appears the mechanical voices and figurative face images. However, we cannot recognize the nuanced expressions on the faces of those English teachers. All that remains are the sound intensity and the sound expressions within the changing rhythm, the unexpecting toilet-flushing sound from across the room, and behind the audience. The player for grammar drills, the rocking chair, and the blurred images of seawater on the closed-circuit television are what the audience sees at K's room. The scenario of K's keeping revising grammar drills and writing home letters resonates to the projection and objects in the space. However, the interplay among these elements is fragile and hopeless, highlighting the hidden emotional agent within these grammar drills.

The split-screen and single projection screen interactively show each sentence's rhythm repeated twice, the first time with English subtitles, and the second time with Chinese subtitles. However, the directors arrange the footage of performers reading sentence examples from the grammar book. The video begins with first-person silent narrative text recalling the memory, including historical images of the American diplomat in Taiwan visiting Green Island, archival images from newspapers. It then switches to the language learning machine, which introduces a series of nouns, prepositions, verbs, images of the environment in Green Island correction center, and archival images of the home letter correspondence. The projection overlaps on the performer's face. With images of the ocean waves and the inky calligraphy-writing strokes, the sentence examples suggest Ko's loss of Alzheimer's disease and the forgetting of traumatic history.  The split-screen images pair with these disconnected sentences in the 15-minute video work, such as "Bird can fly. Flowers bloom. I am teaching English now. This is where I work. I have lived here for ten years. They made me a prisoner." It shows the reader in a prison cell, flying birds, blooming plants, and an empty prison cell in chronicle order. After the conversation practices and the images of home letters, the imperative sentences and the hope/wish-sentences for the unlikely future are made in an abject situation. In the sentence patterns of unlikely present and unlikely future, the whole plot comes to a climax of the unbearably emotional but extremely oppressive "If I were a bird, I could fly" and the unexpected "Can I go now?" The sentence, "We are still learning English grammar," repeatedly appears it doesn't end until "He forgot what (way) to go" appears.

So far, neither the geographical topology of "border art" nor the exploration of the intersections between everyday life and arts of "marginal art" seems sufficient to highlight the Green Island prison's specificity. The significance of Green Island's "marginal art" surpasses geography, the territorialization of art interfaces, and the boundary between art and everyday life, lying on Ko Chi-Hua's marginal life situation as an English grammar educator, a literary writer, and a political victim. In other words, only be referring to Ko Chi-Hua's life span and intensity, the audience would realize the power of "K's Room." On the other hand, only with the strong impact of "K's Room," the site-specific audiovisual installation, the audience can discover the significances of the author's life experiences behind the New English Grammar. Such amplitude of cross-disciplinary intensity transcends the fragment of modern nations and the world, putting together the seemingly insignificant fragments of the historical ruins in Benjamin's words, and feeling those faint signals drifting in the tremendous hopeless symbolic currents. 

"K's Room-- the Creation and Destruction of the World" cleverly creates a gateway to other important works in the exhibition. For instance, the sentence example of the flying bird resonates with the birdcage in Ashmina Ranjit's "Caught Up." The imperative sentences in Ko Chi-Hua's English grammar book directly connect to the Taiwanese imperative sentences shaped in Wang Ding-Yeh's neon light and vibrating installation "My Dear, Kiss Me, and Goodbye." "K's Room" also links to the public-engaged "farewell gesture" sentence drill and the guard's surveillance "record" writing in Lin Tzu-Ning's video performance artwork, "_______What We Cannot Say," as well as the participatory "muting" practice in "I Am Taiwanese." The numbers flowing on the melting ice cube and the cold-toned recitation of numbers in Tsai Char-Wei's video projection installation, as well as the coded and compressed emotional narration and vocal expression in Tsai's "Songs We Carry." In Chang En-Man's "Milky Way," she presents the labor with the video performance of transporting stones. The eliminated situation of aboriginal youths' faces, personalities, expressions, and aspirations is then embodied in the indigenous islands' documentary. "K's Room" becomes a channel of historical trauma. "If I were a bird, I could fly." Such a sentence example is like condensing the logic of the abject and the humiliated into a beehive-like mass, opening up the hidden network of the exhibition from the inside of the audience. Lin Yi-Chi develops a self-renewing and repeatedly reciting strophic elegy in her "Group Portrait of the Echoers" through the five-channel video work presenting song performance in response to the political victims. To put it briefly, the audiovisual action of sound, representation, and reinterpretation builds new coordinates and possible channels for healing in If on the Margin, Draw a Coordinate, and forms the "core of the exhibition."

In the ends, beyond these channels, we should also pay attention to Fu Sheng-Ya’s “The Secondary Rainbow in the South” and “The Print Studio and Specimen Room—Did Exist in 20th Century” by the Libera Work-Gang; these two works are derived from the printmaking practices, directing to both the past and the future. Remarkably, the “collective” group practices and interpretation of the Libera Work-Gang have apparently exceeded the scope of artwork within an exhibition, forming a complex, reverberating, and interlocking entity of collective production the border of the artistic practice of a single artist. This is the original meaning of Shunsuke Tsurumi’s “marginal art.” In other words, it’s hard to tell whether the Libera Work-Gang takes the production as everyday life practices or art-making. However, for this reason, this project stays the closest to the concept of art production in “marginal art.” It is the “birth” in the context of ordinary life instead of the “production” in industrial manufacture.

However, Hsu Chia-Wei's "Two Archaeological Scenes" takes us back to the intersection of Green Island and archaeology. Through a 3D printed installation of a Western-style ancient ship and ceramicware made by amateur archaeologist Wang Hong-Bo, who was executed in the White Terror in 1953, we find an even more silent historical site obscurity: the archaeological perspective of Green Island currents. This is, under the view of "fringe art," perhaps there would be another Green Island situated at an alternative coordinate, beyond the mainstream discursive field. Perhaps there would be another Green Island where the White Terror and political prisoners met as the nation's fringe.

Just as in Yen Shih-Hung's No. 3 Chingtao East Road: My Centennial Memories and Taiwan's Absurd Era, there is a wide range of anthropological, folklore, and archaeological clues in his memories of Green Island. For instance, in Chapter 13, "1951, the Memories of Bonfire Island (Green Island)," Yen described an old islander's recollection. (This was the year when Ko Chi-Hua was sent to the Green Island New Life Correction Center.) This old islander described the spectacular war scenes when the Russian Baltic fleet passing by Green Island during the Russo-Japanese War in May 1905, as well as the scenes when the U.S. 58th Infantry Regiment parked around Green Island during the massive bombing of Taiwan in October 1944. Of course, he didn't miss the splendor scene when over a thousand warships passing by Green Island to join the war in the East China Sea in the Battle of Okinawa in 1945. Interestingly, the East Asian warfare did not cease after World War II. During the Cold War, the U.S. Seventh Fleet sailed from north to south and passed by Green Island at least five times. Yen has witnessed the voyages of the Seventh Fleet on the Island, and he tried to connect the scene of the fleet to the old man's memories. Green Island, in this respect, has already been a gateway to alternative history and the future, with the Pacific Current and the war machine as its coordinates. As the site directing to warship trajectory of the past and future, Hsu Chia-Wei's "Two Archaeological Scenes" implies that the so-called "draw a coordinate" in this year's human rights art festival is an imperative sentence drill given to the audience by participating artists: "Please draw a coordinate that has not been seen at the fringe."