展期：2018.01.07 - 2018.02.10
Wong Wing Sang: The Slowest Wind
Duration: 2018.01.07 - 2018.02.10
Address: Yile Road No.51, Jinle Building Fl.3rd, Rm307, Haizhu District, Guangzhou
文 / 黃永生
I imagine it as a process of placing a stone. If a right stone is placed under the wall, will passerby step on it, climb over the wall and have a look of another side?
Sometimes its size would be so fit that only needed to be pointed out. Sometimes it doesn’t suit no matter from how far it was dragged. Sometimes nothing can be done and just resting and waiting. Stone is usually an invitation, a temptation, or just a personal wish to climb over as always.
If the people who read this text is the one finding the stone in various fields, this exhibition would be a slight work report from associates: please feel free to read.
This report, meanwhile, may be related to powerlessness. We always want to see more than what has been seen, yet keeping our distance from the world by seeing alone. We unavoidably watch the past, death, self and others, with folded arms. There is no choice.
When seeing and knowing interweave, one will spontaneously ask “un-seeing and seeing, which one is wider and able to cover ‘more’?”
— Wong Wing Sang
最慢的风 The Slowest Wind
风扇，发光二极管，尺寸可变 Fan, light-emitting diode, dimension variable 2017
一天的长度 The Length Of A Day
单频录像，彩色，有声，86400” Single channel video, color, sound 86400" 2017
我知道，世界假如存在着一双全知的眼，它会有多困惑： 家庭聚餐常常被无关痛痒的支节打断，夹带马路和青蛙; 专心自然风光的镜头前面，不时走过火车、着火的房间、漫长而无谓的会议。 我知道在我们中间永远隔着一条无法被跨越的深河。当一个人在这边准备放弃世界，不远处的另一头，一个人好奇地打量着地上的积水。又或者，当镜头那边的人兴奋地记录着自身的历险，荧幕另一面的我（或你）打着呵欠。
我们在 Yan前面沉默， 她在自已的相片里笑得过火。她咀角上扬，洋洋得意，像个做了坏事又不告诉你的孩子。而我转身又回到我的生活，继续迷路，找门匙，解开手上扭作一团的耳机线。
Length Of A Day /
As any day goes on, the date of 4th September, 2017 also has 86,400 seconds. It is on this day that Yan chose to kill herself.
As I put flowers beside her, I remembered I got up very late on that very day, watching a show at a very faraway place, and varnished a painting. Hato, Pakhar and Mawar swept across Hong Kong one by one in that week, leaving shattered branches on the way home.
I know a few people have saved a record for this day, which can be proved by more than 800,000 pictures on Flicker. I am also aware that more pictures have been buried beneath the memory cards which may never been opened again.
I know at the point of 12’o clock a man is throwing the iron ball in a sport meeting. At the same time, five women are constantly taking photos together at the pavilion of a park, repetitively. The blonde lady is standing next to her own X-ray film. At the direction of 3…5’o clock, someone is taking photos of every western house and path he has passed by, whose scenes have been taken twice.
I know that how confused it will be if there was a pair of almighty eyes in the world---- the family dinner is often suspended by trivial fragments mixed with frogs and roads; focusing upon the shot of scenery, while walking through the train, the flaming room, the endless and senseless meeting. I understand there is a deep river between us forever that can not be crossed. When someone is ready to give up the world here, there is another person gazing at the puddle of water curiously not faraway from. Furthermore, you or me is yawning before the opposite screen when someone else is recording his adventure excitedly on the other side.
We choose to keep silent before Yan who is laughing forcefully in her own photo. She is smiling complacently, like a child who has done a bad thing but refuses to tell you. And I, turn back into my life again, keeping lost and finding my key, and unravel the twisting earphone wires on my hand.
无人之痛 The Pain Of Nobody
单频录像装置，彩色，有声，尺寸可变 Single channel video installation, color, sound, dimension variable 14" 2013
近况 Those Days
无酸纸艺术微喷，尺寸可变 Acid-free giclee print, dimension variable 2017
Those Days /
She looks especially sad that day.
Or that is the depression spreading over the whole harbour. Anyway I start to notice this lady, an anchor, who turns up on TV punctually at 6:30 every night. I don’t quite understand this girl I meet every day, just as I can’t make sure to say I understand Hong Kong where I have been living for over 20 years. Being curious, I begin to record their facial expression after they have finished the report. I record it every day, a bit like watching birds. If we apply a word more technical, it would be ‘modernology’ of some kind.
When the memory is unfolded step by step on the wall, I could see a harbour.
She can be defined as a professional actor as she read out the paper flashing by her on camera. The word ‘anchor’ is defined as a heavy metal used to fix the boat to prevent it from being swayed away by waves. The anchor of host is to give us steady and safe illusion in the high wind and waves of social events. The steadiness and prosperity is the deep-rooted collectivism of this city, but I’m afraid there could not be a calm and tranquil harbour in the world.
The expression of ‘knowing half second earlier than others’ is a complex historical carrier that links with the day’s events and conveys some feeling of the city in a serendipitous way. Nevertheless, expressions can be influenced by personal experiences that necessarily makes it into a record which cannot be distinguished what’s private and what’s public. It is this dilemma that attracts me deeply not only because historical record itself has never been so-called objective but also this ‘neutrality’ is close to some texture of life.
I think the misfortune not only exists in the stormy society but also carved on every brow and forehead in everyone’s daily life. In 2017 many different stories will happen in this harbour as it has gone through in her past years. Standing far enough, the changeable scenes, negotiations and joy may look like repetitive programmes in history. Change and invariability always appear at the same time in one sea.
I pay attention to the fight between the anchor and the wave and record this place, just like the sun can only be seen by the inverted image in the ink. It may be the emotion of a city between the sunrise and sunset, or forward and backward movements, but possibly be the time itself.
房间里的东西从来没有整齐过，他对它们的看法每时每刻在改变﹕ 昨天还是一件“虽然设计有点过时但还算舒适的衣服”，今天却成了“某人的存在与一段关系的遗物”，明天搞不好会变成“资本社会过度消费的副产品”或者“生火取暖的绝佳用料”。这半包烟，应该要跟硬币还是土司在一起? 重量等同的尺，是不是具有相同的地位或价值? 他总是按捺不住要去移动它们，把它们从一种秩序，移送到另一种。结果可想而知﹕物件永远处于旅途当中，永远无家可归。
魔术道具 Magic Props
四频录像装置，彩色，有声，尺寸可变 Quadruple channel video, color, sound, dimension variable 8'49" 2016
The Magic Props /
On 2nd January, 2015, Lam Pou Chuen, the senior dubbed actor of Hong Kong passed away. The latest dubbing of the Doraemon sounds childish and harsh, which upset me who was sitting in the tea restaurant. They say that the purpose of this dubbing is to imitate the Japanese ‘original’ version. Life always changes gradually at the unexpected tiny place like the cooling tea in my sight. I was having noodles while imagining that I woke up one day and walked into the street, only to find out there wasn’t a familiar face in my sight. Is it a death of some kind?
Since our memory is only the ‘old dubbing’ in reality, I want to see how fuzzy it would be.
一枚没有成为钉子的螺丝 A Screw Try To Be A Nail
螺丝，尺寸可变 Screw, dimension variable 2017
Wong Wing Sang, born in 1990 in Dongguan, Guangdong, China, he moved to Hong Kong with father at the age of 4 and graduated from Ng Wo Kindergarten. He got the Cheung's Fine Arts Award in 2013, while he was studying Fine Arts in CUHK. His artworks were exhibited in Hong Kong, Taiwan and Mainland China. His artistic creation focuses on the composition of contemporary society, as well as the unspoken rules and the personal subsistence state in it. He currently tries to use ready-made objects and images to build metaphors, exploring the subtle emotions and gray zone beyond everyday language. Recent exhibitions include group exhibition "Photo booth" (ParaSite, Art Basel HK, Hong Kong, 2017), "Hazy Winter" (Canton Gallery, Guangzhou, 2015), "Our 1989-1999" (TNUA, Taipei, 2014).