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范邦宇: 混乱中的指挥
Fan Bangyu: Conductor in the Chaos
Fan Bangyu: Conductor in the Chaos
Interviewer: Hanhan
Date: 12/18/2024
Keywords: readymade / narrative / materiality / body / class
Date: 12/18/2024
Keywords: readymade / narrative / materiality / body / class
穿梭在旧钢琴、马蹄铁和锣鼓之间，你发现自己步入了一个迷阵，注意力被一个又一个新角色叫嚣着转移。房梁上悬下的电缆呼地划开琴弦，“呲啦——”，你又回头重蹈覆辙，兜兜转转仍深陷迷阵之中。这是范邦宇在伦敦Slade展览上的作品，视觉与听觉上的强烈控制欲展现着艺术家精心包装之下的野心。
范邦宇的作品中有现成品，有声音，是装置，也是雕塑。一件作品往往需要驻足观察甚久，从头品评到脚，才能厘清其中像弗兰肯斯坦的造物一样的反差、混乱与生涩。在这片混乱中，艺术家扮演了“暴力指挥家”的角色，一边破坏，一边调度。
范邦宇称自己愚笨、后知后觉，但面对关于创作的讨论却异常敏感。在文字和作品中，范邦宇不避讳自己对理论的着迷，以晦涩和抽象拉扯出思考的空间，而面对无解的问题，也真诚地回应“没有答案”。与艺术家的对话正如同其创作，是一场表面平和的博弈。
Navigating between old pianos, horseshoes, and gongs, you find yourself stepping into a labyrinth, your attention repeatedly diverted by one new character after another. The cables hanging from the rafters cut through the strings of a piano with a whoosh, "screech—", and you turn back, retracing your steps, still trapped in the maze. This is the work of Fan Bangyu at their exhibition at Slade in London, where a strong desire for control over both visuals and sound reveals the ambition meticulously wrapped by the artist.
Fan Bangyu’s work involves ready-made objects, sound, installations, and sculptures. A single piece often requires prolonged observation, from head to toe, to unravel the contrasts, chaos, and rawness within it, much like Frankenstein’s creations. In this chaos, the artist plays the role of a "violent conductor," simultaneously destroying and coordinating.
Fan describes themselves as clumsy and slow to catch on, yet they are highly sensitive when it comes to discussions about their work. In both writing and art, they do not shy away from a fascination with theory, using obscure and abstract language to carve out space for thought. When confronted with unsolvable questions, they sincerely responds with "no answer." Conversations with the artist are much like their creations—a surface-level calm belies an underlying game of strategy.
范邦宇的作品中有现成品，有声音，是装置，也是雕塑。一件作品往往需要驻足观察甚久，从头品评到脚，才能厘清其中像弗兰肯斯坦的造物一样的反差、混乱与生涩。在这片混乱中，艺术家扮演了“暴力指挥家”的角色，一边破坏，一边调度。
范邦宇称自己愚笨、后知后觉，但面对关于创作的讨论却异常敏感。在文字和作品中，范邦宇不避讳自己对理论的着迷，以晦涩和抽象拉扯出思考的空间，而面对无解的问题，也真诚地回应“没有答案”。与艺术家的对话正如同其创作，是一场表面平和的博弈。
Navigating between old pianos, horseshoes, and gongs, you find yourself stepping into a labyrinth, your attention repeatedly diverted by one new character after another. The cables hanging from the rafters cut through the strings of a piano with a whoosh, "screech—", and you turn back, retracing your steps, still trapped in the maze. This is the work of Fan Bangyu at their exhibition at Slade in London, where a strong desire for control over both visuals and sound reveals the ambition meticulously wrapped by the artist.
Fan Bangyu’s work involves ready-made objects, sound, installations, and sculptures. A single piece often requires prolonged observation, from head to toe, to unravel the contrasts, chaos, and rawness within it, much like Frankenstein’s creations. In this chaos, the artist plays the role of a "violent conductor," simultaneously destroying and coordinating.
Fan describes themselves as clumsy and slow to catch on, yet they are highly sensitive when it comes to discussions about their work. In both writing and art, they do not shy away from a fascination with theory, using obscure and abstract language to carve out space for thought. When confronted with unsolvable questions, they sincerely responds with "no answer." Conversations with the artist are much like their creations—a surface-level calm belies an underlying game of strategy.
Han: The first time I saw your work in person was at the Slade degree show, where your pieces created a strong sense of visual cohesion and auditory interplay within the exhibition space. Was this intentional? Do you aim for visual recognizability in your work?
Fan: 确实会有意去思考作品位置和观看顺序，感觉上来说这种观看的引入作为作品的一部分于我而言相当重要，像一个小说里的楔子，来引出正文。因为比较迷恋卡尔维诺的作品，在读他的东西时，体感上有种他正在用语句把我反复抛进水里又适时打捞出来的感觉，玩得非常尽兴，但每次都把我安全送回岸边。我多次感觉到他在搭建“回形”结构时精心又“聪明”地设计了一些注脚用以提示或者递进。这种设计恰当又自然。于是我也变得喜欢用多件系列作品来试图搭建这种结构。这是一个野心。
感觉作品视觉辨识度这个话题在现在来谈感到有些无力，或者说多少有点创作压抑，它在某种程度上跟视觉创新有点关系是吗？我觉得艺术作品太多了，或者轻易称之为艺术的东西太多了，甚至觉得像一场会身心俱疲的竞赛。长时间观察过自己，确认我是一个愚笨的人。对新出现的东西总持有一种钝挫的状态，对我的后知后觉属性常常感到懊恼。我不知道怎样算是具有辨识度或者个人风格，相比这个东西，更着重看一段时期作品的体量、使用材料和可以持续关注什么。经过一番倒腾之后，通过一定体量或系列产出如果确实出现了所谓的视觉辨识度，或许是一个挺棒的感觉。
Fan: I do intentionally consider the placement of works and the sequence of viewing. For me, this process of introducing the audience to the work is quite significant, almost like a prelude in a novel that leads into the main narrative. I’m particularly drawn to Calvino’s writing—when reading his work, I often feel as though he’s repeatedly throwing me into the water and then pulling me back out at just the right moment. It’s thrilling, playful, but ultimately safe. His meticulous yet “clever” use of footnotes to build or advance a “circular” structure often feels so seamless and natural. Inspired by this, I’ve come to enjoy constructing similar structures through multiple series of works. It’s a kind of ambition.
As for visual recognizability, discussing it now feels a bit exhausting—or maybe even creatively stifling. It seems to relate somewhat to visual innovation, doesn’t it? I feel there’s just too much art out there—or too many things that are easily labeled as art. It sometimes feels like an overwhelming competition that leaves one both physically and mentally drained. I’ve spent a long time observing myself and have come to terms with the fact that I’m a rather slow and clumsy person. I tend to have a dull, delayed response to new things, which often frustrates me.
I’m not sure what defines visual recognizability or a personal style. Instead, I focus more on the scale of work over a period, the materials I use, and the themes I can consistently explore. After much trial and error, if a certain sense of visual recognizability emerges through the scale or series of outputs, I suppose that would be a pretty great feeling.
Han: Your work involves ready-made objects, installations, sound, and more. How do you define your practice? Are you constructing narratives through your pieces? If so, what are they telling?
Fan: 我把对现成品和雕塑语言的热情和好奇结合在一起，试图呈现一种混合、甚至混乱的质感。材料给我带来无比真实的感受，触摸它们或盯着它们看，能感觉到一种变化着的温度。
现成品往往带有强烈的完成感、它自带叙述、符号，比较具有挑战性的事情是，怎么不让这些混乱变成无厘头或不负责任的调度。这些物体都自己想要抢着发出声音，我的角色有点儿像指挥家，给出指示告诉谁需要降低音高，谁需要休止，或谁需要适时发出一个颤抖的绵音。
Fan: I combine my passion and curiosity for the language of ready-made objects and sculpture, aiming to present a texture that feels blended—sometimes even chaotic. Materials give me a profoundly tangible experience; touching them or simply staring at them conveys a sense of shifting warmth.
Ready-made objects often carry a strong sense of completion—they come with their own narratives and symbols. The challenge lies in preventing this chaos from devolving into nonsensical or irresponsible arrangements. These objects all seem to clamor to make their own sounds, and my role is a bit like that of a conductor: giving cues, deciding who needs to lower their pitch, who should take a pause, or who should emit a soft, trembling note at just the right moment.
If I Can't Hold You to Sleep, The Long Night Is a Waste 2024，exhibition view
Han: The conductor metaphor is quite fascinating.
Fan: 我习惯通过重新给这些物体一个情景，让它们在呈现自我怀旧和想象的同时，发展出新的叙事元素，诸如包含了对爱情、欲望、沉迷、恋物、对称性和仪式的关系等叙事元素的探讨。这些叙事有意无意地都在对回应和肯定那些被主体和结构排斥的部分，但这些被斥主体和结构却又依赖于这些边缘化身体的存在和定义来反过来定义自身。
很多时候我一想到这些我使用的材料：金属、陶泥、皮料甚至塑料等等。这些起码比我的肉身还要坚固的物质，一想到它们注定比我不朽和长寿，我就很欣慰。
Fan: I tend to create new contexts for these objects, allowing them to evoke both nostalgia and imagination while developing new narrative elements. These narratives often explore themes like love, desire, obsession, fetishism, symmetry, and ritualistic relationships. Whether intentional or not, they frequently respond to and affirm aspects excluded by dominant subjects and structures—those marginal entities that, paradoxically, are essential for defining the very systems that reject them.
When I think about the materials I work with—metal, clay, leather, even plastic—I often find comfort in their resilience. These substances, far more enduring than my own body, carry a promise of immortality and longevity that I find reassuring.
Han：所以你希望作品比你存活更久？但这些物质的长存和作品的长存是不同的。
Han: So, you hope your works outlive you? But the longevity of materials and the longevity of the works themselves are quite different.
Fan:（当然希望作品得以长存，哈哈），但更多的我想说的是材料，就是材料们（物体）作为一种宇宙里的元素它本身非常有魅力，不管是天然还是化学合成物，它们本身具备一种带入情景的魔力，还有它们本身去除任何指向性的状态——一种存在的状态或者不同状态的存在，这个让人着迷。这些坚固的物体让我想起小时候看过探索与发现频道的一集节目，关于大爆炸假说。在这里稍微设想一下宇宙爆炸，宇宙持续的膨胀最终会发生坍缩，它一直发生下去但总有一天它不能够再坍缩（永恒的终点），这个时候宇宙中所有质量都集中到一个很小的原子上，然后时间空间和物质从里面产生了——结晶（永恒的起点）。觉得很神奇的是，在宇宙总体嬗变流淌的奇观里竟然还是会有相对所谓永恒的东西存在，这个假说给了我很大安慰——说到底这还是一种肉体对抗终极的恐惧吧。所以作品长不长久无所谓，得知这些物体们用任何存在状态得以长存就够了。
Fan: (Of course, I hope my works would last.) But more importantly, I’m talking about the materials—their inherent charm as elements of the universe. Whether natural or chemically synthesized, they possess an innate magic to evoke scenarios and, at the same time, exist in a state devoid of any specific connotation—a pure state of being, or different states of existence. That’s what fascinates me. These resilient objects remind me of an episode from Discovery Channel I watched as a kid, about the Big Bang theory. Imagine the universe expanding continuously until it inevitably collapses in on itself. Eventually, it reaches a point where it can no longer collapse—an eternal endpoint. At that moment, all mass in the universe condenses into a tiny atom, and from it, time, space, and matter emerge—a crystallization, an eternal beginning. What’s astonishing is that amidst the universe’s grand spectacle of constant flux and transformation, there can still be something relatively eternal. This hypothesis brings me great comfort—though, at its core, it’s probably just a way of confronting the ultimate fear of mortality. So, whether or not the works themselves last isn’t crucial. Knowing that the materials, in any state of existence, will endure is enough for me.
Mr. Antique Piano. antique second-hand piano, whip, automatic motion device, nails, black tubes, chewing gum, plaster, graphite
Han: Where do you source the ready-mades and other materials you use in your works? Do they have specific origins or backgrounds?
Fan: 我所使用的现成品基本上通过以下渠道获得：街边捡拾、废弃场所捡拾、二手平台购入。我在Gumtree（英国闲鱼）上购置了一架古董钢琴，非常沉旧，搬运它花了我很多英镑，搬到工作室里我就迫不及待开始暴力拆解它，用各种工具，电锯、榔头、锤子，能上的都上了。它太过于沉重以至于在搞破坏的时候都需要小心被这些木板和内部结构砸到。
这种钢琴的意义对我而言很直白，它就是一种阶级和身份的象征。我的朋友和我一起去抬钢琴的人家，是在英国哈克尼区（London Borough of Hackney）住着一整栋楼别墅的家庭，英国房市很疯狂，租房更疯狂。我们这种无产阶级英伦新穷人完全拜倒在人家通往客厅的瓷砖小走廊上（开玩笑）。这家女主人人很好，周到地招待了我们喝咖啡、茶，还提供了一些不同口味的甜甜圈。她的女儿有着很好的教育，同时是一个颇有成绩的说唱音乐人。
说回钢琴，我回来就拆解它，用力砸，好像把我所有莫名的愤懑，和难以轻松拆离而越来越不耐烦的情绪都灌到那把电锯里。通过拆解，我知道了它主要由琴键、琴槌和打击系统组成。手指对应键盘的动作所出现的反应是钢琴内部一串复杂的连动效果，其重力和内部摩擦力、惯性、旋转部件与重力中心的距离、以及旋转的轴线的角度共同作业的结果。费了很大劳力和钱财把它请来工作室，边思考着这样一套“奢侈”的演奏触发机制，边伴随着我痛苦的徒手拆解，我对它最终完全失去耐心。
从头到脚，所有条件摆明，无产阶级想要学习和弹奏这个玩意是缺少机会的事情。所以我把钢琴的内部结构全部拆出来，用它们去服务小号或鼓或其他廉价的“无产阶级乐器”，最后我把它们做成了装置，你在现场可以看到有一个自动皮鞭装置绑着一根从琴身上拆下来的巨大的螺丝，我设法让它们垂下来到琴弦位置，然后几乎无休止地来回折磨这架钢琴。
Fan: Most of the ready-mades I use come from the following sources: street, abandoned sites, or second-hand platforms. For instance, I bought an antique piano on Gumtree (the UK’s version of Xianyu). It was incredibly old and heavy, and just moving it cost me a lot of pounds. Once it arrived at my studio, I couldn’t wait to start dismantling it with whatever tools I had—electric saws, hammers, mallets—you name it. Its sheer weight made the process precarious; I had to be careful not to get hurt by falling wood panels or internal structures.
For me, the meaning of this piano is quite straightforward—it’s a symbol of class and identity. The family I picked it up from lived in a whole townhouse in Hackney (London Borough of Hackney). The UK housing market is insane, and renting is even crazier. As members of the proletariat and the so-called "new poor" in Britain, my friend and I couldn’t help but be awestruck by their polished tiled hallway leading to the living room (joking). The lady of the house was very kind, warmly serving us coffee, tea, and even offering us a selection of donuts in different flavors. Her daughter had received an excellent education and was also a successful rapper.
Speaking of the piano, I began dismantling it as soon as I got back—smashing it apart with all my might. It felt like I was channeling every bit of inexplicable frustration and the growing impatience that came from dealing with something so cumbersome into that electric saw. Through the process of taking it apart, I came to understand its construction: primarily consisting of keys, hammers, and a striking system. The reactions triggered by fingers on the keyboard are the result of an intricate internal mechanism—a combination of gravity, friction, inertia, the distance of rotating components from the center of gravity, and the angles of the axes of rotation, all working in tandem. After investing so much labor and money to bring it into my studio, I found myself reflecting on the "luxury" of such an elaborate mechanism for producing sound. Yet, with every painful, hands-on moment of dismantling it, I grew increasingly impatient until I eventually lost all tolerance for it.
From start to finish, the conditions surrounding this instrument made it glaringly clear: for the working class, learning and playing such an object was often out of reach. So I removed its internal structure entirely, repurposing the parts to serve instruments like a trumpet or drums—cheaper "working-class instruments." Eventually, I turned these pieces into an installation. At the exhibition, you can see an automated whip mechanism tied to a massive screw I had pulled from the piano’s body. I arranged it to hang near the strings, endlessly lashing and tormenting the piano, subjecting it to relentless punishment.
Practice Love Series 2024，snare drum, syrup, lure, hair, clock（left）
Mr. Antique Piano.antique second-hand piano, whip, automatic motion device, nails, black tubes,
chewing gum, plaster, graphite（right）
Mr. Antique Piano.antique second-hand piano, whip, automatic motion device, nails, black tubes,
chewing gum, plaster, graphite（right）
Han: How did your understanding of class issues develop?
Fan：这是一个好问题。 浅读了一点点《历史与阶级问题》，因为后来实在读不下去。卢卡奇·格奥尔格（Lukács György ）在阶级意识那一章节开篇就说“就在马克思要规定什么是阶级的时候，他的主要工作被中断了，这对无产阶级的理论和实践来讲都是一种灾难。”后来他又谈到马克思主义认为社会划分为阶级是由人们在生产过程中的地位决定的。
以上这些说法都是大拿们通过现象总结出来的叫法，我最早的阶级意识确实来自于马克思，来自高三觉得枯燥无用便在桌底下翻漫画的政治课，后来长大一点儿后所有生活里出现的事件不过是一一印证了马克思总结出来的理论罢了。
Fan: That's a great question. I’ve skimmed History and Class Consciousness a little, but I couldn’t push myself to finish it. In the chapter on class consciousness, Lukács opens by stating: “At the very moment when Marx was about to define what class is, his main work was interrupted. This was a tragedy for both the theory and practice of the proletariat.” He then goes on to discuss how Marxism views class division as being determined by people's positions within the production process.
These are, of course, the labels and observations distilled by scholars over time. My earliest awareness of class issues undeniably came from Marx, specifically from high school political science classes. Back then, I found those classes dry and pointless, so I’d hide under the desk reading comics instead. But as I grew older, all the events I encountered in life seemed to only reaffirm Marx’s theories.
Han：你的作品语言相对复杂多元，使用的现成品材料多样且具有多种反差感。你如何把控这些材料，从而避免元素堆砌？
Han: Your artistic language is relatively complex and diverse, with a wide variety of ready-made materials that often feature strong contrasts. How do you control these materials to avoid creating a mere assemblage of elements?
Fan：我是否可以理解当一件作品被指“沦为元素的堆砌”，就意味着内容的空乏？当“元素的堆砌”成为评价一个作品最终呈现的结果，我可能认为这一次艺术性的身体劳动只是指向了一种无法自洽的艺术生产，作者可能不太清楚自己想要什么。如果知道自己的需求，坚定对材料的选择，坚定认为选择这样的材料可以准确地传达，或者拒绝对结构表达上的趋炎附势，也不用依附既定审美经验范式告知什么是应该存在和发生的，哪怕它在视觉的呈现上是繁复甚至是混乱的，也不会导向诸如“元素堆叠”的讨论。我相信有一种先验的美，是肉身参与的经验直接暴力瓦解理性的知识。
我也在思考，真诚面对需求和感觉是不是可以对抗和抵消这个话题。
Fan: Could I interpret the critique of a work as being a "mere assemblage of elements" as implying a lack of substance? When such a description is used to assess a piece, I might see it as a sign that the artistic labor behind it failed to produce coherent meaning. It suggests that the artist may not have been entirely clear about their intentions. If one knows their purpose, is resolute in their choice of materials, and firmly believes that these materials can accurately convey their ideas—rejecting the temptation to conform to a structuralized expression or aesthetic norms that inform one what is supposed to be—then even if the work appears visually intricate or chaotic, it can transcend the notion of "mere assemblage." I believe in a kind of pre-existing beauty, one that emerges from embodied experiences and directly dismantles rational knowledge with a certain force.
I’ve also been reflecting on whether honestly confronting one's needs and feelings might serve as a counterbalance to this concern.
Han：这种“对材料选择的坚定”从何而来？
Han: Where does this “firmly belief in material selection” come from?
Fan：首先是直觉，对材料的坚定就是对直觉的坚定，材料是不是足够接近你的意思，是不是可以承载你的顽固和任性。在直觉和对物料的喜好之外，就是选择性妥协。现实来讲，大多数时候，尤其在英国做东西，光靠直觉可能行不通因为物料造假太昂贵，一个无产阶级艺术家在没有任何funding的情况下是没法任性的。
Fan: First and foremost, it comes from intuition—being firm in material selection is about trusting your intuition. It’s about asking whether the material is close enough to your intent, and whether it can bear your stubbornness and whims. Beyond intuition and a personal affinity for certain materials, it often involves selective compromise. In practical terms, especially when creating in the UK, relying solely on intuition isn’t always feasible because materials can be prohibitively expensive. For an artist without any funding, particularly one from a working-class background, willfulness isn’t much of an option.
The Private Garden—Of Other Places Series，clay, ceramic, marbles, rosin, ready-made, beeswax, syrup,
white spray, mirror acrylic, carpet（left）
The Private Garden—Of Other Places Series（details）（right）
white spray, mirror acrylic, carpet（left）
The Private Garden—Of Other Places Series（details）（right）
Han: The Private Garden — Of Other Places Series establishes a unique atmosphere throughout the exhibition, evoking a sense of ethnographic undertone and traditional elements. What were your thoughts during its creation?
Fan: 这大概是观众还没进入空间就可以远远看到的一幅场景，但观众仍然需要路过其他三个作品才可以走进观看到它的细节。经过淡淡的糖浆味道的指引后走到这里可能会有一种感官上的错觉，墙上插出来一盆死去的盆栽，盆栽正下方是一个小台面，上面放置着一块对称图案的波斯地毯，这里是对花园（异空间）的模拟，上面有一个小喷泉从里面冒着新鲜的糖浆，围绕着喷泉周围放置着松香、玻璃弹珠、一根金属釉骨头、一些为了塑形雕塑本体物而后被废弃的泥土部分，还有一些蜡质横笛/竖笛。在台面底下，放置了几片根据盆栽叶子制作的陶瓷叶子。根据重力的科学现象，这些叶子不会穿过台面而落在其下方。
我想构建一个异于平常的错觉，一个不按照寻常世界运转的机制，物与物的会面，该相遇的、不该相遇的。有一些观众会提问说，感觉这些台面上放置的素陶是随随便便捡来摆放的，但这可能多少是我的目的，来邀请观众询问和探讨身体主体和被弃物之间的关系。为什么被放在具有神圣对称的台面上的东西，一定要是一个够得上精心被制作的东西。
Fan: This piece is likely one of the first things viewers see from afar before entering the space, yet they must pass by three other works to observe its details up close. Guided by the faint aroma of syrup, viewers might experience a sensory distortion upon arriving here. On the wall protrudes a dead potted plant, and directly beneath it is a small platform holding a Persian rug with a symmetrical pattern. This setup simulates a garden—an “other space.” On the rug sits a small fountain that flows with fresh syrup, surrounded by rosin, glass marbles, a metallic glazed bone, discarded fragments of clay from sculpture shaping, and some wax flutes/recorders. Beneath the platform, ceramic leaves modeled after the plant’s foliage are placed. Following the laws of gravity, these leaves remain suspended and do not fall beneath the surface of the platform.
I wanted to construct a space of illusion—something that defies the mechanisms of our familiar world, bringing together encounters between objects, whether they “should” meet or not. Some viewers have commented that the terracotta objects on the platform feel as though they were randomly placed or casually picked up. This is, in part, intentional—to prompt reflection on the relationship between the embodied subject and discarded materials. Why is it that objects placed on a sacredly symmetrical platform are expected to be meticulously crafted or deemed worthy?
Absent，leather, clay, lard（left）
1kg lard，lard, plaster, graphite, reel-to-reel recorder（right）
1kg lard，lard, plaster, graphite, reel-to-reel recorder（right）
Han: Your works often incorporate materials with sexual undertones, inevitably leading to associations with LGBTQ+ identities. Are you addressing this theme explicitly? And have you considered ways to move beyond the existing symbolization of such objects when expressing it?
Fan: 很多的作品从始自终都在围绕着主要-次要、主体-剩余的辩证关系展开的，这多少呈现了我作为性别酷儿的一些思考、体验以及产出。现场出现了一些被暴力插入乐器的酷儿情色物品，也出现了竖笛的负形，它象征了过去某种渴望的缺席，后来演变成对自己向往过拥有男性身体的唾弃和最终走向流动自由的解放。诸如此类的变化都跟我过往作为trans的体感息息相关。这些细节是关键的脚注，它们出现在角落，所表达的政治强烈暗示了我的性别身份。观众会慢慢发现自己所在的空间承载着一种酷儿的政治视角，不断促使大家识别出空间里的文化代码和等级属性。
对于如何从现有物的符号中跳脱，我认为或是应该思考我是否需要一个全然的陌生感或者建立一种新的符号，用新语汇取代旧语汇，到底有没有这个必要？如果有必要需要“取代”到什么程度？是完全疏离还是仅仅悬置一种观看的距离？目前还在思考，我还没有答案。
Fan: Much of my work revolves around the dialectic between primary and secondary, subject and residual, reflecting my thoughts, experiences, and outputs as a genderqueer individual. In my installations, there are often queer-erotic objects violently inserted into instruments, alongside negative forms of recorders. These objects symbolize the absence of a past longing, which eventually evolved into a rejection of my former desire to have a cisgender body and, finally, a liberation towards fluid freedom. Such shifts are deeply tied to my bodily experiences as someone who has navigated being trans. These details act as key annotations, tucked into corners, with their political implications strongly signaling my gender identity. Gradually, viewers might recognize that the space they inhabit carries a queer political lens, continually prompting them to discern the cultural codes and hierarchies embedded within.
As for breaking away from existing symbols, I find myself questioning whether there is a necessity to create an entirely unfamiliar or new symbolic systems that replace the old. If such a replacement is warranted, to what extent should it go? Should it strive for complete alienation, or merely establish a suspended sense of distance in viewing? I’m still contemplating these questions and haven’t yet arrived at an answer.
The previous exhibition “One Must Imagine Us Happy.”
Han: Your art education spans an unusually long period. What do you think art school education brings to artistic creation, and why did you return to art school five years later?
Fan：接受艺术教育不等于获得做艺术的能力，但如果是稍微好一些的院校确实是可以提供更多可能性，关于人文社科的、跨学科的交流、批判性思考的环境，也提供制作一个物件基本的技术指导、车间、工作坊。除此之外，对于作品而言，除了上述的条件，关注生活本身，可能会给创作带来更好的成分。活着更重要。把自己放进一些平日里的陌生和多维度的身体力行之中。
我重返艺术学院为了可以来欧陆生活一段很长很长很长的时间。
Fan: Receiving an art education doesn’t necessarily equate to gaining the ability to create art. However, at relatively good institutions, it can provide valuable possibilities—interdisciplinary exchanges rooted in the humanities and social sciences, an environment for critical thinking, and fundamental technical guidance in workshops and studios for making objects. Beyond these conditions, though, I believe paying attention to life itself might bring even more meaningful components to the process of creation. Living is more important. Immersing oneself in unfamiliar, multi-dimensional, and embodied experiences can be transformative.
I returned to art school to spend a very, very, very long period living in Europe.
韩晗是一名写作者、研究者和设计师，现居伦敦和北京。她的研究和实践致力于从日常生活的附近出发，用带有温度的艺术和设计介入社会议题。她曾供职于南伦敦美术馆和UCCA当代艺术中心等艺术机构，并任《时尚芭莎》中文版“艺术先锋”专栏作者。
Han Han is a writer, researcher, and designer based in London and Beijing. Her research and practice are committed to engaging society with art and design starting from the nearby of daily life. Han has gained extensive experience at art institutions including the South London Gallery and UCCA Center for Contemporary Art, and was the columnist for the Art Pioneer Column of Harper's Bazaar China.