Neighbours
近年来，摄影家傅文俊一直在对社会和历史进行思考。如果说《退场》系列是他对大工业时代转型的反思，那么其新作《街坊邻居》则是大工业转型后，他对地方人文生态的关怀和重构。
对熟悉中国近几十年发展变迁的人来讲，中国可谓成功地完成了经济结构的转型，在这一过程中经济和文化发展不平衡的问题是非常突出的。重庆可以说是成功的从旧工业基地向新型工业基地转型的代表之一，在这一过程中重庆的人文生态遭遇了历史性的变迁，尤其以重庆原生态吊脚楼为特征的民居逐渐被现代化城市规划所替代。曾以为，成功的经济转型可以直接带来崭新的人文生态，可以有更多的资本培植人文生态的发展，然而事实并非如此。大多数情况是经济转型破坏了原有的人文生态，同时盲目的经济发展忽略了新的人文生态的建构，因此傅文俊从一个艺术家的角度出发，以重庆民居为对象思考地方人文生态的可能性是有现实意义和积极意义的。
在城市化进程之前，各个地方的建筑以民居为特征，然而，在城市化进程中具有民居特色的建筑逐渐消失在单一化和标准化的建筑格局里。这些民居建筑的消失意味着一种传统生活方式的寿终正寝，取而代之的是逐渐形成的新的生活方式，传统意义上的邻里关系变成了现代建筑中人与人的互不相识和毫不信任。新的关系的形成不能有效的解决人们在日常生活中遇到的问题，城市化进程摧毁了本土的人文生态，人们越来越怀念传统的生活方式对个人精神生活的关怀。然而现代化建筑已经规范了人们的生活空间，城市以标志性建筑和雕塑的替代了民居风格的建筑的功能，城市和地区之间越来越趋向于雷同。除了自然生态和自然气候在不同地区之间存在天然差异之外，其他方面的差异显得越来越模糊。傅文俊耗费几年的时间，走街串巷收集散落在城市边缘的那些濒临拆迁的吊脚楼，用镜头记录了它们风韵犹存的倩影。与其他拍摄人文风情的摄影家不同的是，他根据史料对这些零散的建筑进行了重新规划和复原，将那些支离破碎的记忆修复成了《街坊邻居—人文生态的文献》这幅历史画面。
对于民居复原来讲，它本身就是一个文化课题，同时作者以自己的意图去行动又涉及到一个文化想象的问题，虽然这个问题很多时候可能是用到非本土文化经验的人的身上。然而，对今天的我们来讲，我们不但需要文化想象力，还需要熟悉我们自身的文化脉络。人文生态的恢复绝不是复原一个古镇一条古街就能生效的，简单的复原古镇古街的行为只是一个简单而初级的文化想象，通过不断的猎奇满足文化好奇心，以为这就是人文生态，以为这就是特色，以为这就是传统，殊不知所有的这一切统统被消费了，消费行为本身恰恰成了文化。傅文俊从那个时代走来，对那个时代充满了感情，走马观花式的文化消费并不能让他满足。他试图建立地方人文生态样本，此样本并非等同于遗留的民居样本，而是从梳理自身的文化经验出发,基于自己对地方人文生态的理解和感受“编写”了他理想中的山城民居文献。
在这张照片的中间是一尊大佛，大佛所居的位置和在画面中的大小都是至关重要的。当我们开始阅读这张照片的时候我们首先看到了佛，这就像我们去到一个新的地方首先被标志性建筑或是雕塑所吸引，并因此而记住。现代城市雕塑只在形式上创新，只在审美上给人愉悦，它虽反映出人的状态，反映出时代的气息，但它更多时候仅仅是一个装饰。然而，若是一尊大佛立于城市，或是立于街角，它可以立刻引起人的敬畏，它可以让人有所“反应”。佛代表的无论是信仰上回归还是身心上的释然，对当代经济社会人的麻木无论如何都是一剂良药。从这个意义上讲，传统文化的地位被彰显出来。
佛像周围的民居主要以吊脚楼为主，层层叠叠布满画面，如果这是一个村落，这应当是一个充满生机，生生不息的村落。这种长卷式的构图给人一种宏大的历史感和时间感，作者试图将这样一种零散的图像收集变成一种具有史诗般意义的图像。只是作者在运用图像技术的时候刻意偏离了工具的客观性。首先所有这些被采集的图像都具有客观真实性，它们本身并不能代表什么意义，就像古瓷修复一样，一个单独的瓷片价值并不大，只有当修复完成的时候古瓷才显露出它的面目和价值。第二，当客观真实性被局部抽离的时候，真实性就显得不那么真实了。傅文俊从采集的图像素材中通过自己对文化的理解和想象，拼接出了这幅《街坊邻居——人文生态的文献》，因此局部只有在整体中才能发挥作用，表面的非真实性，恰恰显得格外真实。
大多数人都会质疑，这是摄影吗?其实这是不是摄影并不那么重要了，重要的是作者借助了相机，借助了摄影的手段。这恰恰是个体在面对历史当下所作出的反应，不论是一次反驳还是沉默都显得意犹未尽。照片呈现出的是工笔淡彩的效果，其中没有特别喧嚣的场景，却充满了生活的情趣盎然，画面中溢出恬静和诗意。诗意化的艺术处理反映出作者对理想生活的诉求。
从傅文俊对这件作品的命名出发，就已经挑起了“街坊邻居”这个概念。街坊邻居这个概念和作品的内涵是匹配的，然而我们所理解的现实的街坊邻居和图像内容显然有些错位，我们哪里还有街坊邻居?我们都成了业主。从这个概念不能被通约的情况开始，就已经引申出关于时代和生活变迁的事实，也许我们并不需要马上在权威词典上查找关于这个概念的准确定义，我们将这个概念悬置，从我们自身的理解出发，把我们的理解陈述出来，发现最后没有一个相似概念陈述，这种不能被通约的内容预示着有街坊邻居的时代已经一去无返了。蓝灰色的色调既强调了纵深感又显得特别冷静，人们在阅读这份长卷的时候好似举着火把阅读洞穴壁画的情形，历史的切片被慢慢的扫描，从中可以看到整个社会生活的缩影和人文气息。
In recent years, photographer Fu Wenjun has been continually reflecting on society and history. If the Leaving the Stage series can be seen as his meditation on the transformation of the era of large-scale industry, then his new work Neighbours represents, in the aftermath of that transformation, a renewed concern for—and reconstruction of—the local humanistic ecology.
For those familiar with China’s development and transformations over the past several decades, the country can be said to have successfully completed a restructuring of its economic framework. Throughout this process, however, the imbalance between economic growth and cultural development has been particularly pronounced. Chongqing stands as one of the representative cases of a successful transition from an old industrial base to a new industrial hub. Yet during this transformation, the city’s humanistic ecology underwent historic change—most notably, the gradual replacement of traditional stilted houses (diaojiaolou), emblematic of Chongqing’s original urban fabric, by modern urban planning. It was once assumed that successful economic transformation would naturally give rise to a renewed humanistic ecology, providing greater resources to nurture cultural development. Reality has proved otherwise. In most cases, economic restructuring has damaged the existing humanistic ecology, while blind economic expansion has neglected the construction of a new one. Against this backdrop, Fu Wenjun’s artistic engagement with Chongqing’s residential architecture—approaching it as a means to reflect on the possibilities of a local humanistic ecology—carries both practical relevance and positive significance.
Before the process of urbanization, local architecture in different regions was largely defined by residential dwellings. With urbanization, however, buildings characterized by vernacular housing have gradually disappeared into a homogenized and standardized architectural landscape. The disappearance of these residential structures signals the end of a traditional way of life, replaced by newly emerging modes of living. Traditional neighborhood relationships have given way to anonymity and mutual distrust among people within modern architectural environments. The formation of these new relationships has failed to effectively address the problems people encounter in everyday life. Urbanization has eroded indigenous humanistic ecologies, leading to a growing nostalgia for traditional ways of living and their care for individual spiritual life. Yet modern architecture has already regulated and confined living spaces, while cities have replaced the functional role of vernacular dwellings with iconic buildings and sculptures. As a result, cities and regions increasingly resemble one another. Apart from the natural differences in ecology and climate across regions, other distinctions have become ever more blurred. Over the course of several years, Fu Wenjun wandered through streets and alleys, documenting stilted houses on the urban fringe that were on the verge of demolition, capturing their lingering grace through his lens. Unlike other photographers who focus on documenting local customs and social life, he re-planned and reconstructed these scattered architectural remnants based on historical records. In doing so, he repaired fragmented memories and reassembled them into a historical tableau: Neighbours — A Documentary of Humanistic Ecology.
When it comes to the restoration of vernacular dwellings, the issue itself constitutes a cultural question. Moreover, when the artist acts according to his own intentions, it inevitably involves the problem of cultural imagination—an issue often associated with those who lack direct, local cultural experience. Yet for us today, what we need is not only cultural imagination, but also a deep familiarity with our own cultural lineage. The restoration of a humanistic ecology can never be achieved simply by reconstructing an ancient town or a single historic street. Such acts are merely rudimentary and superficial forms of cultural imagination. They rely on continual novelty to satisfy cultural curiosity, mistaking this for humanistic ecology, for distinctiveness, for tradition—without realizing that all of it has already been consumed, and that consumption itself has become the culture. Fu Wenjun emerged from that era and carries a profound emotional attachment to it; a fleeting, touristic mode of cultural consumption cannot satisfy him. What he seeks instead is to establish a model of local humanistic ecology. This model is not equivalent to a mere sample of surviving vernacular architecture. Rather, beginning with a careful examination of his own cultural experience, and grounded in his understanding and sensibility toward local humanistic ecology, he “composes” a documentary of the mountain city’s residential life as he envisions it.
At the center of this photograph stands a Great Buddha. Both its placement and its scale within the composition are crucial. When we begin to read the image, the Buddha is the first thing we see—much like arriving in a new place and being drawn first to a landmark building or sculpture, by which the place is remembered. Modern urban sculpture innovates primarily in form and offers aesthetic pleasure; it may reflect human conditions and the spirit of the times, yet more often than not it functions merely as decoration. A Great Buddha, however—whether standing within a city or at a street corner—immediately evokes a sense of reverence and prompts a response. Whether the Buddha signifies a return to faith or a release of body and mind, it is, in any case, a potent remedy for the numbness of individuals in today’s economic society. In this sense, the significance of traditional culture is brought forcefully to the fore.
The residential buildings surrounding the Buddha are predominantly stilted houses (diaojiaolou), layered densely across the picture plane. If this were a village, it would be one full of vitality—thriving and enduring. This scroll-like composition conveys a grand sense of history and time, as the artist seeks to transform a collection of scattered images into one bearing epic significance. Yet in employing imaging techniques, the artist deliberately departs from the supposed objectivity of the medium. First, all the collected images possess an objective factuality; taken individually, they signify little in themselves. This is much like the restoration of ancient porcelain: a single shard has limited value, and only when the restoration is complete does the vessel reveal its form and worth. Second, when objective factuality is partially extracted from its context, reality begins to appear less “real.” Drawing on his own cultural understanding and imagination, Fu Wenjun assembles these collected visual fragments into Neighbours — A Documentary of Humanistic Ecology. Here, each part functions only within the whole; the apparent non-authenticity on the surface paradoxically achieves a heightened sense of truth. Many viewers may question: is this still photography? In fact, whether it is photography or not is no longer the central issue. What matters is that the artist makes use of the camera and photographic means. This, in itself, is an individual’s response to the historical present—whether as a rebuttal or as silence, it remains resonant and unresolved. The image presents an effect reminiscent of meticulous brushwork with light colors: there is no overtly noisy scene, yet it is filled with the pleasures of everyday life, suffused with calm and poetic atmosphere. This poetic mode of artistic treatment reflects the artist’s yearning for an ideal way of living.
Beginning with Fu Wenjun’s choice of title, the concept of “Neighbours” is already brought into question. The notion of neighbours corresponds closely with the work’s underlying meaning, yet there is a clear dislocation between what we understand as neighbours in lived reality and what is presented in the image. Where, after all, are our neighbours today? We have all become property owners instead. From the moment this concept can no longer be mutually translated into contemporary experience, facts about the transformations of our era and of everyday life are already revealed. Perhaps there is no need to immediately consult authoritative dictionaries for a precise definition of the term. Instead, we may suspend the concept and proceed from our own understanding, articulating what it means to us—only to discover, in the end, that no shared or comparable definition remains. This very incommensurability signals that the era in which “neighbours” truly existed has irreversibly passed. The blue-gray tonality both accentuates depth and conveys a striking sense of calm. As one reads this long, scroll-like image, it feels as though one were holding a torch while deciphering cave paintings: slices of history are slowly scanned, within which the microcosm of social life and its humanistic atmosphere gradually comes into view.