UCCA Beijing

New Directions: Li Ming

2015.10.30 - 2016.1.3

Location:  Long Gallery
 

liming

The Appearance and Disappearance of a Group of People

One Person

There is a loneliness like no other: eating alone in public. This is the world's saddest scenario, sadder than poverty and homelessness. Animals always take great pride in sharing food or fighting for food. "He who eats alone is dead." (But not he who drinks a lone. Why is that?) This person needs to "prove" his existence. Thus he tries to do things with no plan: running, writing, creating, conquering. This person's final stop would be a narrow single bed. From that moment on, his back is tightly attached to the board of the bed, his most firm support where his world unfolds itself: his bedroom, the apartment, the apartment building, streets, neighborhoods, cities, countries, the world. It is only when he is alone that the patterns of the world are unveiled.

Two People

These two might be a couple—a man and a woman, two men, or two women. They can be friends, too—a man and a woman, two men, or two women. (It is not hard to see that the occasions where two men spend time together are relatively rare. The things two men can do together are quite limited. Two men going out together seems to deplete their individual masculinity, and this is exactly something most men would try to advoid. Have you seen two men shopping, strolling, having afternoon tea, or doing other functionally ambiguous activities together? These possibilities are believed to be feminine or can only happen on the premise of a romantic relationship or for a sexual encounter.) Or, it may simply be a random encounter in which two complete strangers exchange meaningless words, their genders having little relevance. The two people, if they use "I" and "you", would converse in these ways: "Could you pass me that pen?" "I need you to listen carefully to what I’m saying." "I love you." "You don't understand me." "I forgive you for all the pain you've caused me." "You have no way of imagining how much I hate you." "I beg you to witness my plight." "Please! How could I ever know what the Hell are you thinking about all damn day?!"

"You" and "I" are virtually meaningless, like the words “here” and “there”. Only when uttered by a specific speaker do they come to delineate a space or functionally construct a relationship. To start a conversation, one must begin with the most direct means to catch the attention of the listener, and this is the hailing function of language. "You" and "I" demarcate the subject and the object, and they are also the most intimate and direct means of communication, with no obstacles inbetween. "You" and "I" are an invitation sent to the other: "I invite you...", "Do you see what I mean?" And this invitation compresses space, shortens the gap, even creates an illusion of "I in you and you in I", the illusion that fills all empty spaces in this interwoven world. Nonetheless, however much space is filled or gap shortened, there will never be a moment when two completely become one. It is only imagined, experienced in extreme situations or through metaphor. As a matter of fact, we have all experienced it: two bodies merge into one, but eventually, the two still diverge due to different rhythms and modes of pleasure.

Three People

Yet another person is added. This might be a good thing, breaking up the depressing and stale relationship of the previous two, but more often than not it is a disaster. In human relationships, the triangle is perhaps the most unstable structure, being entirely against the rules of nature, a structure intrinsically artificial and culturally complicated.

Three people can only have a temporary relationship, in which one of the three will always leave in the end. If we examine the relationship, we always wonder: who is the third-wheel? We imagine, hypothesize, even place a gamble on the outcome, just to entertain ourselves—"You guess...", "I bet it's..." Of course, for a certain time period, each one in the three is necessary and carries an urgency—otherwise this relationship would never have been established. The person who joins the stable two is often an external factor, but he/she might not be the one who is cast out in the end. This alteration is utterly random, but drastic changes may happen due to perhaps only one look or one word. During the process, each of the three would inevitably turn into hyper-sensitive, fragile, and awkward infants. Their willpower, patience, and intelligence are tested in the course of this "competition." We can see that the shade of the triangle continuously changes, with its area bigger or smaller, its character more flimsy or sturdy. Sometimes, the triangle becomes sharp like a weapon and it is ultimately destructive (mostly seen in love relationships, and it has become the common basis for dramatic plots), making its final shape a discursive trace, without bounds or boundaries. After that, no interest will ever be paid on that past or what is left anymore.

This third person could also play the role of a mediator when communication between the two breaks down. He could offer translation or interpretation, transferring meanings between two communicative agencies and ensuring that the message is conveyed. At times, the translator faces one party, and then the other, bringing things a step closer, shortening the distance in-between, striving to balance the rhythm, tone and emotional layers. In this process the translator inevitably makes mistakes, and as these mistakes accumulate, it becomes increasingly obvious that his role is crucial because he is the only one that is able to perceive the mistakes and reexamine any consequences. If he is honest and responsible, then there is no way for him to escape guilt. He would ask himself: "at which moment did I disconnect the two?" Or "have I become an obstacle between them?" His clumsy apologies may fetch more severe damages—his guilt would grow into a swollen and self-tangling ball of yarn. Meanwhile, his self-reflections reveal another question: what is his mother tongue? "Do I have my own identity and subjectivity?" And as he begins to contemplate this dilemma, his findings become indexical because obviously, this search is both deadly serious and dubiously self-replicating. We begin to wonder: could we absolve the need for his existence and return to the simpler order at the beginning? Here, "the beginning" which is fermented by eye contact and good intentions is only a myth, a commonly viewed ideal situation that can no longer be traced back. "The beginning" is somehow more inaccessible than the future.

Four People

Four people is enough for a game. It is a formation that is playful and full of possibilities in terms of permutation. You can play the games of addition, subtraction, and even multiplication. With each new arrangement, new narratives emerge. It is a labyrinth of stories that can be overlaid or reducible, symmetrical or unbalanced, concrete or purely conceptual. It never causes irreversible damage because being both strategic and interesting is its primary standard.

The relationship of four people sometimes creates a precise, harmonious square, as in the quartette, a relay race, games of bridge or mahjong. But more often, it forms an irregular quadrilateral, with any two points at varied distances. It is this variation between the points that results in different shapes. Four points also give rise to the possibility of three-dimensionality. A math teacher asks: how can three matchsticks be used to create four triangles? We have thought over this question thoroughly and slowly discovered that it contains a deep logic—the importance of the dotted line, the auxiliary line. The auxiliary line is something purely imaginary and virtual; however, it often plays a vital, concrete role, creating channels for thinking and uninhibited beauty.

Two on two, what does this formation remind us of? Doubles tennis, the two sides of the defendant and plaintiff, double date, and the meeting and negotiation of the two sets of parents before a marriage. Let's keep on the game, take it easy, and talk about the double date, the popular yet eccentric urban phenomenon that may actually be unpopular already. It fulfills an exhibitionist need made possible by a tacit agreement, which subtly embodies the social contract and contradiction of the human condition. Here, "I" am a part of a "we"—the former satisfied and willing to give up subjectivity in order to form a new, integrated subject. The centrifugal force of the quickly spinning city life already makes the bonding of two people seemingly impossible—to participate in someone else's life is simply unimaginable, although this does not interrupt the continuance of conventional marriage, which in turn support a chain of related industries. Sex is no longer obtained through marriage, and conversely, sex seems to become a problem of marriage. So then what is the impulse that brings a couple together? This new subject seeks a partner who, in a nutshell, appears merely as mirror reflection. Its form both betrays and conforms to a narcissistic desire that results in a self-circulation system that is half open and half private.

If three of the four people come into alliance, then we might be dealing with a conspiracy. Having been deceived, this person does not know that he is alone. Perhaps, just while he brags or exaggerates, the three have formed a firm straight line, from which the first person is excluded. This is a dangerous position, one that is abandoned or calculated. He might be an inventor, and as a result of a contrived fraud, he loses the rights to his patent. His idea would be produced under a different label or marketed beyond his expectations by the terrible group that swindled him, his product purchased by people he detests, with no control of his own creation, which ends up being manipulated and used by others. He has no say over its "final" implementation. He is blocked from knowing how much profit it makes or his cut of the deal. We may laugh at his shortsightedness while sympathizing with his position, but the possibility of this situation cannot be avoided (no matter how hard we try, we have no approach to others' thoughts and can only improve our skills in espionage and wisdom, evidence collecting, experience, and speculation. It is impossible that we appeal to higher legal authorities to resolve the problem because that would be against the spirit of the game). He must gain the price difference between fake innocence and cruel reality. His tenacity has surpassed the perverse trajectory of the three-dotted line, which creates a split space, both sides his playground. Caught in the situation, he seems to have achieved freedom and elasticity. But what makes one feel shameful is that this vast space also resembles a desert. The only thing he can orient himself according to is that line on the horizon, which also represents constant surveillance. No matter how many times he detours, no matter how many enemies he confronts and conquers, his destiny has been programmed and predetermined by the virtual game.

Five Poeple

The most common scene (as you can imagine, this is an entirely public scene): when five people have lunch, someone would always have to sit on the side of the table. In this position, he/she can never look straight in the eyes of any of his companions. The unique and titled perspective gives him a panoramic view but also excludes him from everyone else. In this scene, he might be a figure of little importance, but it's equally possible that he is the key figure; he might keep his head down and eat or, in the other case,dominate the conversation such that he is not able to eat at all. In short, he is a peculiar figure, and in some cases embodying double identity, a weird combination of advantage and disadvantage. He might already be suffering from schizophrenia. How should we evaluate his place? Can he evaluate his own place?

He might be invited to join the other four, as the latter are bored of their current arrangement probably because they have discovered that none of any formal variations makes any difference, no matter how hard they try, like a prolonged game of mahjong, an endless repetition of the same scenario. It suddenly comes to them: why not call him over? He is just sitting over there quietly eating, occasionally glancing over with curiosity. They assume that this lonely person looks forward to joining a conversation. All his suspended energy seeks an outlet, and their invitation will fulfill his desire. For them, this would hardly cause any loss—they have known each other for long enough that the games they play among themselves have turned into a binding force with its own warmth, ready to thaw any ice. Now, they yearn for the redemption of an "other". But it seems that they have failed in learning from the lesson of their own history, that is, their pattern has never complied with a singular volition and aggression causes more than defense, but also the reshuffling of the current order. They, together with him, will have to re-plan a shared future.

The four inspect this fifth person closely from their individual perspectives. His profile seems ever-changing, never entirely visible, with one piece always blocked, which lends him an aura of mystery, an exotic charm. However, it also creates anxiety—one is never able to know what is under the shadow: a pleasant surprise or a hidden scar. After warm greetings, they pity his misfortune, loathe his vulgarity, envy his vigor, and fear his secrets. One of them turns around to whisper to another, but what are they saying? They are probably trying to decipher his origin, growth, education, achievements, personality, income, social status, marriage status, fashion taste, so as to easily predict how he would react to situations, what role he would play, what function he would fulfill... In order to fully "read" him, they must create an entirely new language, whose linguistic signs are to define his existence and significance. But this cannot resolve all the problems. First, everything they know of him has to be supported by his own explanation, and how could they be sure he does not lie? Second, because people are different from objects, if they feel uncomfortable, they move. But he just would not stop moving: he stands up, he sits down, he stands up again, destroying the carefully prepared image given to him by them. In addition, occasionally they would wonder: do they really care?

Now, let us try to look in his eye and reproduce his inner world. This method is certainly "politically incorrect," but still considered "scientific" if you're familiar with the idea of recovering a criminal scene ("If I were the murderer...I would walk through the corridor, break the camera...first subdue the male character, and the woman would be too afraid to move...then the baby's room..." The motive is psychological, and perverse behavior often results from a twisted psychology). He feels delighted by the shock and turmoil he has caused—this is human nature. Yet simultaneously he senses embarrassment and rejection and suffers from them due to his inability to fully integrate into the conversation—this also stems from human nature. He accepts every label they give him, and he struggles to adopt the unfamiliar language and attitude, in order to soothe inevitable mistakes in his pronunciation ("Did I say something wrong?" "Do they understand me?" "I must look childish." "They must be talking about my shameful past.") Sometimes his life and thoughts become the central focus of the conversation, but he still cannot get over the thoughts: is my presence only a subject of the discussion? Are there other meanings in my presence? In this process he slowly comes to understand that there are cracks that can never be filled and gaps never bridged. He will never fully grasp their world view.

However, the structure formed by five people may not always be this messy or unpredictable. They could also form a perfectly shaped star, a magnificent pyramid, or the state symbol of power and authority.

A Group of People

The relationship of six people is similar to that of four, and seven is similar to five, and so on and so forth. Then we have arrived at a "group" of people. This macroscopic perspective erases the differences in detail and the complexities of specific relationships, finally revealing a slick surface, perhaps a circle or a variation of a circle, with curves substituting straights lines and angles. It is highly mobile, elastic, just like the awe-inspiring body of a gymnast, or the membrane of a righteous white blood cell, crossing boundaries with ease, fearless of twisting or hurting. A group of people have staged themselves in history with various faces, in public squares or next to the fireplace of a village house, at war or on the negotiation table. We call them a "class", an "organization", an "ethnicity", or a "community". There might be antagonism between groups, or juxtaposition. These relations form the most complex structure, from one angle perpendicular, from another horizontal, and currently so woven together. With the help of science, they become the most complicated form, just like contemporary architecture. Nature has disappeared. What is left are only human signs. They have evolved to the point where they no longer need any guiding principles, ideology, mutual benefits, belief, or freely crossing borders of space and time. Brutal yet kind, stable but tumultuous, nothing but at the same time everything. We live in the midst of this large structure, which never can we grasp a piece of. In order to get over the dizziness, we are forced to land, bypass the protesters, the soldiers and parades, carrying out orders and propaganda, and enter the room:

(SOUND)

All of a sudden, we find out that in an overly complicated world, the most effective glue for forming a group is one's privacy—it is only when the individual is at his/her weakest moment that a group of people shows its humanity. We can even make this assertion that the most stable way to form and retain a group is with the goals of quitting drugs, conquering fear, or sharing struggles (as in support groups). Here, the most introverted subject has the most extroverted attention, and now the group comes to the public and confronts he who eats alone. The most astonishing thing is that his eyes are full of sympathy, exactly the same expression your eyes are filled looking at him. This gaze continues and constantly becomes each other's mirror reflection, dynamic, twinkling, endless. Meanwhile, this movement which numbs us becomes a static tête-à-tête, a commonsensical sign.