There is a common cultural trope that in order to be a great artist one must struggle, undergo hardships and/or suffer from heartbreak. For artist Danh Võ, this is “fucking romanticised bourgeois bullshit. It’s coming from a privileged perspective.”
Võ is here to shift established perspectives and ask what it means to make great art – a question that he and his classmates found themselves constantly asking while at art school in Denmark. “I was lumped into a fixed idea of what art could be,” says the Vietnamese-born Danish artist, who is now based in Berlin. “Denmark is so privileged: you get money when you study; you have all the resources. The art academy was great, as were the people you met there. But we were all trying to think differently and figure out: how do we make good art?”
After making what he describes as “horrible paintings” as a student, Võ took a break and, in unconsciously trying to erase everything learned about what art could be, he found “a liberty, to work in completely different way” – a way that equates art with architecture. “For me, it’s specifically about testing a space through an object. That’s what you do as an artist, no? Whether it’s a palazzo, a park or a found space.”
© Danh Vo, Photo: Lok Cheng, Courtesy M+, Hong Kong.
He’s tested various spaces, from punctuating the iconic ocular hall of Paris’s Bourse de Commerce building with large tree trunks to exhibiting his works alongside those of modernist icons such as Isamu Noguchi and Park Seo-bo at Querini Stampalia in Venice, where various art-historical periods – from rococo to baroque to contemporary – were reflected through the resulting convergence of history and architecture. “When you put these works alongside portraits of popes and nobility in a palazzo, it entirely reshapes how you consider each object and your experience of the space.”
Most recently, he’s asking viewers to reconsider their relationship with and perception of M+’s Found Space – the institution’s unique foundational feature and default basement – with his new installation, Danh Võ In Situ: Akari by Noguchi. A series of plywood frames, often used in Võ’s sculptural installations, form vertical, gridded intersections of space, in between which Noguchi’s iconic Akari lamps are embedded. Adjacent to this, sandwiched between two of Haegue Yang’s vertically suspended Sonic Rescue Ropes (2022), is a similar structure configured into a bleacher-like form, interspersed with plants, functioning somewhere between an amphitheatre and living room.
The structure mimics the intersecting lines of the museum itself, whether one is looking bottom up or top down. For Võ, Found Space is reminiscent of a highway intersection in Los Angeles. “The vast infrastructure and the big columns holding up the building; it helps me visualise how to use the space.”
Given that the entire West Kowloon cultural complex is built on reclaimed land, it was a literal blank canvas for new institutional models to emerge. Found Space was accidentally discovered during M+’s construction process, when the team found Airport Express and Tung Chung Line rail tunnels cut across that area diagonally. The tunnels were excavated and then covered with concrete to cement a new foundational feature, overcoming what was initially a design challenge. The idea of revealing something which always existed but was hidden is thematically carried through Võ’s practice.
“I curate other artists’ work but focus on bodies of works which are less exposed – like Noguchi’s playscape.” That’s not a facet of his work that people focus on. It’s not the first time Võ has shown his work in Found Space, let alone Noguchi’s at M+. The artist’s We the People (2011-16) was exhibited here earlier, and he installed an iteration of Noguchi’s playscape, Noguchi for Danh Võ: Counterpoint, outdoors in 2018. “Another thing that was lesser known is Akari lamps. What I find troubling is that they’re not so visible in the design field.”
Akari are functional. They are sculptures but also lamps, reflecting Noguchi’s design- and architecture-driven practice. They also signify Võ’s interest in equating art with architecture in the way they’re exhibited in the artist’s modular installation. The structure is adaptable, parts of it are interchangeable and items within it can be swapped with other objects such as the artist’s own works throughout the duration of the exhibition.
© Danh Vo, Photo: Lok Cheng, Courtesy M+, Hong Kong.
Noguchi created more than 100 sculptural lighting designs between 1951 and 1986; the name “akari” means “light” or “illumination” in Japanese. After the Second World War, in an attempt to rebuild the nation, a government programme took designers, architects and artists around the country to see if they could revive traditional craft practices. Akari were paper lanterns which traditionally had candles inside, and were bought to cemeteries to worship ancestors. The practice had died down significantly after the war. Noguchi took this craft and created his own version from mulberry bark paper and bamboo. Heavily inspired by Brâncuși, the Japanese artist created forms reminiscent of the modernist sculptor’s work, and then added a light bulb to them. “What you see in these beautiful structures is the fusion of two giant modernist thinkers [and] artists,” says Võ.
His interpretation adds a third, contemporary dimension to this modernist melange. “This comes back to highlighting other artists’ work within my own practice, whether it’s Noguchi or my father. If things already exist, then it’s good, because I can just be the observer. But if things are under the lid, then I think it’s worth the time and energy to reveal another perspective that I feel has been neglected or under-prioritised.”
The need to revitalise practices, customs and even spaces rendered defunct comes from a personal place and inspired one of the works Võ is most proud of – his father’s writing. Growing up in Vietnam, Võ’s father learned how to write Vietnamese in Latin script. He knew the form well but couldn’t read any western language. When the family migrated to Europe, his skill, ironically, was rendered useless, except when it came to creating signage and menus for the family-run food business.
© Danh Vo, Photo: Lok Cheng, Courtesy M+, Hong Kong.
This prompted a simple question for Võ: “What is it that handicaps or produces a skill and when does it get expressed for its quality? And then, how do you make it into a qualification or skill or something productive?” In his quest to find an answer, Võ included his father’s handwriting in his own work. 2.2.1861 (2009) was an artwork in which Võ’s father hand-copies a letter written by a French missionary, Jean-Théophane Vénard, to his father, before he was beheaded in Vietnam. Here, Võ’s father’s skill is being celebrated as art rather than relegated to being the labour behind a menial task. This outlook can also be applied to spaces, as the random discovery of Found Space led to it becoming part of an art institution, a new status with a new value.
It’s fitting that an artist who’s witnessed the evolution of M+ during its construction process was tasked with developing a three-year project that is supposed to prompt the institution to reimagine ways of exhibition-making and continuously evolve the space, while rendering it multifunctional. One condition is consistent, says Võ: “People have to engage. It should be fun.”
人們常以為在文化的世界，掙扎拼搏、歷經艱苦和/或撕心裂肺都是成為偉大藝術家的必經之路。然而對於藝術家傅丹來說，此說只是「資產階級浪漫化的胡說八道，源自特權視角」。
傅丹要做的正是改變既有視角，探問創造偉大藝術意義何在。早於他在丹麥藝術學院修讀時，傅丹已常與同窗討論這個問題。這位生於越南的丹麥藝術家現居於柏林，他表示：「當時我執著於藝術的可能性。丹麥是片福地：你唸書時有收入，還享有所有資源。藝術學院很是美好，那邊遇到的人也很好。但我們努力嘗試以不同角度思考，希望找出如何做好藝術。」
傅丹在學生時代完成了他認為「糟透的畫作」，其後選擇暫停創作，在不知不覺間試圖抹掉所有藝術可能性的認知，從中找到了「以截然不同方式工作的自由」。這種方式讓藝術與建築對等。「對我來說，那關乎如何透過物件測試某個空間。那不就是藝術家要做的事情嗎？不論場域是奢華宅邸、公園，還是無意中發現的空間。」
他在各種空間進行測試，曾以大型樹幹點綴巴黎證券交易所大樓內的標誌式圓形大廳，也試過在威尼斯的奎利尼·斯坦帕里亞基金會博物館，把自己與野口勇和朴栖甫等現代主義大師的作品同場展出；在這場展覽中，傅丹讓歷史和建築融為一體，反映洛可可、巴洛克以至當代的各個藝術歷史時期。他表示：「把這些作品與奢華宅邸內的教宗和貴族肖像放在一起，可以徹底重塑你對每件物件的看法和空間體驗。」
最近，他在傅丹創意現場：野口勇的「光」展出最新裝置藝術作品，請觀眾重新反思自身與M+潛空間的關係和感受。潛空間位於M+地庫，是該博物館獨有的地基特色。傅氏的雕塑裝置經常採用組合夾板框架，這種結構在空間中交織成垂直網格，交匯處放著野口勇的標誌式Akari燈。兩旁是梁慧圭的聲之通天繩（2022），這組懸垂裝置呈現類近而貌似看台座椅的型態，中間散落著不同植物，在功能上介乎圓形劇場與客廳。
無論是自下而上還是自上而下地觀賞，裝置的結構都仿效著M+本身的交叉線條。傅氏認為潛空間讓人聯想到洛杉磯高速公路的十字路口。他說：「大樓由大型基建和巨柱支撐，幫助我想像怎樣善用空間。」
由於整個西九文化區都是建於填海而來的土地，儼如一幅空白畫布，讓全新的機構式模型演進成型。潛空間是在興建M+過程中的意外發現，團隊在機場快綫和東涌綫兩條鐵路隧道沿對角線穿過之處找到了這個空間，於是把隧道挖空和鋪上混凝土，再建成全新的地基展場，從而克服了原有的設計挑戰。傅氏藝術實踐所表達的主題，與展現一直存在但難以發掘的事物不謀而合。
「我策展時會挑選其他藝術家的創作，但會聚焦於較少曝光的作品，例如是野口勇的玩味意境。」那不是人們欣賞傅丹作品時所聚焦的一面。傅氏已非第一次在潛空間展出作品，野口勇的作品也不是首度現身M+。傅丹的我們人民（2011-16）早前已在此展出，而他也曾於2018年在室外展出對位變奏：野口勇之於傅丹。「Akari燈較鮮為人知。令我不安的，是這些燈在設計界不太顯眼。」
Akari有其功能，既是雕塑也是燈具，反映了野口勇的實踐由設計和建築推動。而傅氏以模組裝置形式展示作品，則標誌著他認為藝術與建築具備同等地位的看法。這種結構可以引入不同變化，在整個展期中，部份元素可以互換，結構內的物件也可以由其他物件替代，例如是藝術家本身的創作。
野口勇於1951至1986年間創作了過百組雕塑燈光設計：akari在日語中代表「光」與「亮」。二次世界大戰後，政府為了重建國家而試行了一項計劃，邀請全國各地的設計師、建築師和藝術家攜手活化傳統工藝。Akari傳統上是以燃點蠟燭照明的紙燈籠，掃墓時會帶同祭祖，但習俗在戰後已式微。野口勇選擇了這種工藝，利用桑樹皮和紙和竹創作出個人風格的akari。這位日本藝術家深受現代主義雕塑家布朗庫西影響，在作品中呈現後者的形態，然後加上燈膽。傅丹說：「你看到這些美麗的結構，融合了兩位現代主義思想家和藝術家的意念。」
傅氏的演繹為融合現代主義的作品增添了第三個當代維度。「我的實踐初心是突顯其他藝術家的作品，無論是野口勇還是家父。物件早已存在當然很好，因為我可以安然擔演觀察者。但是如果未被發掘，我便覺得值得花時間和精力來展現另一個我認為被忽視或未被重視的觀點。」
對於傅丹而言，追求活化藝術實踐、傳統習俗甚至廢棄空間都是很個人的事情，而且啟發了他創作了其中一件最引以為傲的作品：他父親的書畫。傅丹的父親在越南長大，自小學會以拉丁字母寫越南語。他很熟悉這種書寫形態，但卻不諳任何西方語言。最諷刺的是，當傅家移居歐洲時，傅爸爸的技能變得一無所用，只可以在家族經營的食店寫招牌和菜單。
這令傅丹想到簡單的問題：「是什麼令技能變得無用武之地？又是什麼令人產生技能？技能的質量在什麼時候才呈現出來？接下來，如何將它變成資格、技能或可供生產用的事物？」為了尋找答案，傅氏在作品中引用了父親的筆跡。在2.2.1861 （2009），傅爸手抄了法國傳教士 Jean-Théophane Vénard 在越南被斬首前寫給父親的家書，傅爸的技能成為作品歌讚的藝術，他也不再是執行卑微任務的勞動者。這種觀點也可以應用到空間，因為潛空間被無意發現，令其成為了藝術機構的一部分，被賦予了新的身份和價值。
傅氏在M+的建設過程中見證了它的演變，由這位藝術家肩負重任，策劃為期三年的專案最適合不過；這項專案旨在令M+重新構想展覽製作方式，並不斷把空間改良演進，令它的功能更趨多樣化。傅丹指出一項不變的條件：「人們必須參與，事情一定要有趣。」
