段江华画出了城市的物质感，画出了城市的肌理。城市，被抽象化为几个巨大的建筑物。城市的其他部分好像被建筑物吞没了，被建筑物的高度和庄严吞没了，它们只剩下隐隐绰绰的身影，一些矮小建筑和街区的身影。就此，城市的细节和丰富性浓缩成一团。这些城市(在稍早些的时候，段江华画的是单纯的建筑)，空旷无人，建筑物是它的全部主角，这些建筑密密麻麻，相互挤压。建筑物的挤压通过颜料的堆积越发显得挤压。颜料反复地堆积反复地涂抹，城市就越发显得挤压，越发显示出它巨大而拥挤的物质性，越发显示出物质本身的厚度和强度。这些城市和建筑物，像是置身于一片荒漠中，被一片阴霾的天空所包围，墓气息沉沉。城市，就是这样一个巨大的物的怪兽。在此，建筑和物质本身既构成了现代城市的风景，也成为绘画的风景。在这个意义上，风景，不再来源于高山，森林，树木，河流，和大地，而是来自于现代的水泥和钢筋编织而成的高楼，这些高楼成为新的风景，新的“自然”。似乎，这些建筑物已经脱离了人工之手，而变成了自在之物;似乎，它是自然生长的，是自然界的遗物;似乎，它与人并没有关联，沉浸在自己的孤独之中。在现代城市中，确实，只有物质和高楼，只有物质和高楼萌发的奇观，激情，伟岸，重新激发了我们一度丢失的崇高。在这些绘画中，城市替代了自然，重新激活了崇高。在这样的城市和建筑面前，人们有时候会发出惊叹，就如同我们曾经习惯性地在高山和大海面前发出惊叹一样。人工的世界，成为一个新的自然世界。

    也不再是日常起居的城市，不再是有生活气息的城市，不再是有人流，有车马，有欢笑和这种崇高和惊叹，正好是由静穆激发的。段江华抹去了城市的喧嚣，抹去了噪音，激情和运动，这个城市，没有人，只有建筑;没有细节，只有轮廓;没有色彩，只有晦暗;没有叫嚣，只有肃穆;城市，处在一种奇特的安静状态，一种闭锁的状态。它们似乎脱离了人间气息，脱离了世俗气息。而变成了一种顽固的墓碑。这些建筑物，好像是来自千百年前的历史深处，一直矗立在那里;也好像来自未来的某个时刻，作为未来的一个构思，一个幻象存在在哪里。它们如此地厚重，如此地晦暗，如此地静穆，好像被时间所长久地风化一般;建筑物似乎穿越了时间的隧道，在风雨的颠簸摇晃中艰辛地存活下来。但是，我们一眼就能看出，这些建筑物，既非昨天的，也不是未来的，它们恰恰是今天的，它们是对今天的铭写，是对这个时代的记录;但是，这些建筑物，失去了它们的功能性，在此，它们不再是实用性的空间，它们不是一个运动场所，不是一个信息空间，甚至不单纯是一个政治单位;而城市，哭泣的城市。这些城市和建筑物，在此，是作为一种象征出现的，它们恰好是这个时代的权力，荣耀，财富和光芒之所在。它汇聚了今天的抱负，囊括了时代的总能量，它们是今天的欲望和意志的大爆发。城市和建筑，表达了人类在今日的能力巅峰。这是今日的奇观。这些画，一方面将城市的某一个瞬间，某一个空间，某一个场所，某一个片断，某一个建筑物具体化(我们能清晰地辨认出这是哪一个建筑，这是城市的哪一个片断)，它们正是能力巅峰的具体化;另一方面，又将城市的其余部分省略掉了(我们无法辨认那些细节，那些日常城市的细节，那些城市的日常生活的细节)，或者说，这些被画出来的建筑物如此地突出，以至于它将别的建筑，将城市的其余部分压制住了;只有这些宏大建筑物，尽管它们构成城市的微小片断，但它们才变成了城市的象征：它们的高度，庞大和野心，构成了城市的形象，构成了城市本身。城市似乎只有在巨大的体量和高度那里才获得自己的形象。这些突出的建筑物所凝聚的光芒，就是现代城市的内在光芒。但是，在这些画中，这所有的光芒都奇怪地收敛了――段江华将它们画得越来越厚重和灰暗。那些能量，权力和荣耀变得寂静无声，好像被历史的河流冲刷得干干净净。就此，这些绘画上的建筑物，与其说是今天对今天的辉煌记载，不如说是今天对今天的纪念;它们好像是在千百年后绘制而成，是在千百年后对今天的观看。透过这些绘画，这些今天的建筑物，反而变成了肃穆的遗址。一种关注今天的绘画，一种将现时代作为对象的绘画，就这样直接将今天送进了墓碑之中，直接让今天成为遥远的过去。今天，居然是在今天就成为凭吊的对象。

    这是一种特殊的历史观：事实上，所有的辉煌，所有的荣耀和光芒，都会变成碑文，都会成为历史。在这个意义上，与其说我们在创造历史，毋宁说，我们都在创造废墟;或者更恰当地说，所有的野心勃勃的历史，所有历史的辉煌，最后都会以废墟的形式留存下来。今天的雄心勃勃，今天的欲望和气魄，总是被镌刻进物质性的丰碑之中。事实上，历史中的那些欲望和抱负，不都是寄存在物质性的丰碑中，然后逐渐变成了废墟?或许，意志总是要通过物化的形式出现;或许，人们意图通过物质性的丰碑建立自己的不朽;或许，人类总是通过厚度、高度和宽度将自己安插进文明之中。但是，历史无一例外要将这些厚度、高度和宽度吞噬，无一例外地要将这些意志的丰碑和建筑的丰碑谱写成晦暗――至少要将它谱写成黄昏。

 

The Monuments and Ruins of the Will

Wang Min’an

 

Duan Jianghua’s paintings reveal the sense of material and the texture of city. The city is abstracted into a few gigantic buildings. The other parts of the city seem to be devoured by the buildings, devoured by the height and solemnness of the buildings, only left with vague shadows, some shadows of low buildings and street blocks. Thus, the details and richness of the city are condensed. These cities (Duan’s paintings were purely architectural in the early period), empty, the architecture is their only lead, these buildings are numerous and dense, one presses against another. The squeezing of the buildings seems even more pressed through the piling on of paint. By the repetitive piling of pigments and the repetitive smearing, the city seems more pressed, showing even more its gigantic and crowded material property, revealing morethe depth and strength of the material itself—these cities and their architecture as if they are located in a desert, surrounded by a gloomy sky and a solemn atmosphere. The city is like an enormous monster. Here, the architecture and the materials themselves not only compose the modern city landscapes, but also become the landscapes of paintings. In this sense, landscapes no longer originate from mountains, forests, trees, rivers and the earth, but rather come from high rises constructed from modern concrete and steel.  These high rises become the new landscape, the new “nature,” as if these buildings have already left the realm of artificiality, and have transformed into a creature on its own; as if they grew in nature, and they are the nature’s remains; as if they have nothing to do with humanity, immersing themselves in their own lonesomeness. In modern cities, only materials and high-rises, only spectacles created by the materials and high-rises, passion, greatness, again inspiring the nobility that we have lost once. In these paintings, the city replaces nature, again reviving nobility. In front of such cities and architecture, people sometimes express their surprise, just like we used to in front of high mountains and oceans. An artificial world becomes a new natural world.

 

No longer a city of ordinary daily lives, no longer a city filled with life atmosphere, no long has streams of people, vehicles, laughs, nobility and amazement, it is triggered by the quietness. Duan has removed the uproar of the city, removed the noise, passion and movement, this city, no mankind, only architecture; no detail, only outline; no color, only gloominess; no clamor, only solemnness; the city is in a peculiar state of quietness, a state of closedown. They seem to be divorced from the atmosphere of the mortal, and away from the worldly sense. Rather turn into an obstinate tombstone. These architectures, as if come from the deep pocket of thousands of years of history, have always been standing there; also as if they are from a certain moment of the future, as a conception of the future and as illusion being here. They are so heavy, so gloomy, and so solemn, as they are effloresced by time in eternity; the edifices seemly travel through time, hardly surviving in the wind and rain. However, we can spot this with just a glance—these edifices, neither from yesterday, nor from the future— they are exactly from today, they are the inscriptions of present, records of this era. Although, these buildings have lost their functions; here, they are no longer spaces of practical use, they are not an arena, not a space of information, not even a political unit; but rather the embodied city, the sobbing city. Here, these cities and edifices are presented as symbols; they are exactly where the power, glories, fortunes and radiances of this era lie. It converges the ambitions of today, includes the total energy of the era, it is a massive outburst of today’s desires and wills. The city and architecture convey the peak of human capability right now. This is the spectacle of today. These paintings, on one hand specify a certain moment, a certain space, a certain location, a certain fragment, a certain building (we can clearly recognize which building it is, which fragment of the city it is), they are the concrete representation of the peak of our capability. On the other hand, they omit the other parts of the city (we cannot recognize these details, those details of the everyday city, those details of the city’s daily life); in other words, the edifices depicted in the paintings are so outstanding that they suppress other buildings and the rest of the city; only these magnificent edifices, despite the fact that they are only small fragments of the city, become symbols of the city: their altitudes, massiveness and ambitions constitute the image of the city, constitute the city itself. Seemingly the city can only obtain its image through enormous physicality and altitude. The radiance that is amassed by these outstanding edifices is the inner radiance of the modern city. However, in these paintings, all the radiance is oddly restrained—Duan paints them ever more heavy and dark. These energy, potency and glory become silent, as if it is eroded clean by the river of history. Thus, these edifices in the paintings, if to say that they are the present resplendent record of today, rather to say that they are today’s memorials of the present. They are as if painted hundreds of years later as observations of today from then. Through these paintings, these present buildings rather become solemn ruins. The type of painting that focuses on today, the type of painting employs the present moment as its subject simply sends the present directly into the graveyard. Today actually becomes the subject of condolence of today.

 

This is a special conception of history: in fact, all the splendor, all the glory and radiance, will all become an epigraph, will all turn into history. In this sense, to say that we are creating history, rather than saying that we are creating ruins, or even more appropriately, all the ambitious history, all the resplendence of the history, in the end will all be preserved in the form of ruins. Today’s ambitions, today’s desires and courage aren’t they all engraved in materialized monuments and gradually turn into ruins? Or, the volition always appears in the form of materialization; perhaps, people intend to establish their immortality through materialization; perhaps, human beings always plant themselves into the civilization through thickness, height and width. Nevertheless, history will devour these thicknesses, heights and widths without exception, and without fail it will compose these monuments of volitions and edifices into darkness and gloominess—at least into dusk.

作者：汪民安