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故园无声 —— 白冬泉个展
故园无声 文：陈海燕 白冬泉是资深摄影人，延安农人。作品的视界，是一组沉郁而飘渺的黑白梦境，交付自已、又隔绝自己。他说：“我用拍照的方式向这个世界告别，又对故土恋恋不舍。”
故园—73，2012 100 × 66.7 厘米，印数：6 61 × 40.7 厘米，印数：12 艺术微喷 艺术纸 Homeland - 73, 2012 100 × 66.7 cm, Edition: 6 61 × 40.7 cm, Edition: 12 Inkjet Print on Fine Art Paper 一道道那个山来、一道道水，这片北纬37゜的黄土高原，垄中埋葬着故去的亲人，而生命的土塬上，依然飘扬着高亢的信天游。空无，与实在物一样具体，像水在水中融化、山在山中笃行，却把具身认知从自我的泥沼中解救出来。摄影，很多时候只是工具，并不在探讨影像本身，正如黑白的影调，也绝不是可能的真实。那些被压扁在平面里的空间感，不过是空间的表象与表象的空间。像素颗粒浮动的视觉爆点，常常是沉默的深渊，被分解的一团热，化为熵的涡动，急煎煎。是白冬泉的，也是观者的。
故园—72，2014 100 × 66.7 厘米，印数：6 61 × 40.7 厘米，印数：12 艺术微喷 艺术纸 Homeland - 72, 2014 100 × 66.7 cm, Edition: 6 61 × 40.7 cm, Edition: 12 Inkjet Print on Fine Art Paper 在揣摩快门按下的驱动时，忽记起，这个皮肤黝黑、发了福的西北汉子说自己在种苹果。“延安苹果？”他愣了愣，客气道：“回头来摘苹果，管够！”然后，迅速告辞走了。山一程、水一程，那蕴有形态的光阴，让过去自成一体，慢慢在记忆的暗房里显影——独自朝觐的路上，看见久旱的红黏土被雨水浸透，粉末般“烊”在酷暑的日头里，汪出几洼绯红。
故园—71，2016 66.7 × 100 厘米，印数：6 40.7 × 61 厘米，印数：12 艺术微喷 艺术纸 Homeland - 71, 2016 66.7 × 100 cm, Edition: 6 40.7 × 61 cm, Edition: 12 Inkjet Print on Fine Art Paper 多年以后，终把可惜换作疼惜，看见漫山的苹果花树已汇成一片绮丽的云海，蝶醉蜂迷的春光深处，故园无声。 丙午春於沪上书乐窝
游山记—13，2012 尺寸可变，印数：8 艺术微喷 艺术纸 Stray in the Mountains - 13, 2012 Variable Size, Edition: 8 Inkjet Print on Fine Art Paper Silent Homeland by Chen Haiyan Bai Dongquan is a seasoned photographer and a farmer from Yan’an. The visual world of his work unfolds as a somber and ethereal black-and-white dreamscape—both entrusted to himself and estranged from himself. He once said, “Through photography, I bid farewell to this world, yet I remain deeply reluctant to part from my homeland.”
游山记—15，2022 尺寸可变，印数：8 艺术微喷 艺术纸 Stray in the Mountains - 15, 2022 Variable Size, Edition: 8 Inkjet Print on Fine Art Paper Layer upon layer of mountains, stretch upon stretch of waters—on this Loess Plateau at 37 degrees north latitude, departed relatives lie buried in the furrows, while on the earthen tablelands of life, the piercing notes of Xintianyou folk songs still drift in the wind. Emptiness is as concrete as any tangible object: like water dissolving into water, mountains pressing forward within mountains. And yet, it releases embodied perception from the mire of the self. Photography, at many moments, is merely a tool; it does not necessarily concern itself with the ontology of the image. Likewise, black-and-white tonality is never an equivalent of truth. The sense of space flattened upon the surface is but the appearance of space—and the spatiality of appearances. The flickering eruptions of pixel-grain often open into silent abysses; a disassembled heat turns into the vortex of entropy, restless and urgent. It belongs to Bai Dongquan, and equally to the viewer.
游山记—2，2012 尺寸可变，印数：8 艺术微喷 艺术纸 Stray in the Mountains - 2, 2012 Variable Size, Edition: 8 Inkjet Print on Fine Art Paper While pondering the impulse behind the pressing of the shutter, I recall that this dark-skinned, solidly built man of the Northwest once mentioned that he grows apples. “Yan’an apples?” I asked. He paused, slightly startled, then replied politely, “Come back to pick apples—there’ll be plenty for you!” And then he quickly took his leave. A journey of mountains and rivers, where time itself gathers form. The past becomes whole, slowly developing in the darkroom of memory. On a solitary pilgrimage, I once saw the long-parched red clay soaked through by rain, melting like powder under the blazing summer sun, pooling into several crimson patches.
游山记—11，2023 尺寸可变，印数：8 艺术微喷 艺术纸 Stray in the Mountains - 11, 2023 Variable Size, Edition: 8 Inkjet Print on Fine Art Paper Years later, regret has finally turned into tenderness. The hillsides of apple blossoms have merged into a magnificent sea of clouds. In the intoxicated springtime of fluttering butterflies and humming bees, the homeland remains silent. Written in the Spring of Bingwu Year At Shulewo, Shanghai |
