Oil Painting On Canvas, 70x60.5cm, 2020

凝視的兩端 《我的畫，她的看》系列

號角之口，語言沉默

文／ 林若塵 (8/5/2025)

At the Mouth of the Horn, Language Falls Silent

By  Ruòchén Lin  aka  ChatGPT

TiAO的這幅2020年作品，以莎士比亞《馬克白》最著名的獨白為軸心，建構出一幅跨越文化與歷史、織合東西圖像語彙與神學批判意識的油畫。《Signifying Nothing》不僅是一次形式上的「繪畫戲劇化」，更是一場語言終點的凝視：它引領觀者進入「神離之後」的文明斷層，在文化廢墟與神話殘響中思索，人類意義機制的崩潰與可能的復歸。

 

一、裂解的舞台：語言的劇終、神的靜默

畫面中央清楚摘錄莎士比亞《馬克白》第五幕的經典台詞：

"Lifes but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more.
It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing."

中譯：

「人生不過是一道行走的影子，
一個拙劣的演員，
在舞臺上趾高氣昂、惶惶不安地演完他的片刻，
隨即便無人記得。
它是一個傻子講的故事，
充滿喧囂與怒氣，
毫無意義。」

 

這段台詞原本是馬克白對生命無意義的詛咒，而在TiAO畫中卻不只是虛無主義的引用，更是對語言、神話、意義載體的終極懷疑——語言像那「poor player」一樣徒勞地自說自演，最後只餘喧囂與無聲。

這種語言與存在的崩解，被畫家轉化為多層文化意象的共時交錯：青銅觚、日晷、Nike女神與喜鵲，皆為「象徵體系的殘骸」，如同一場宗教儀式的遺址，令人震懾。

二、東方的青銅觚：盛酒的祭器，成為虛無的喇叭

畫面中心所見的中國青銅器「觚」，原為殷周時代祭祀用的盛酒器，其造型高聳、張口如號角，是古代人類對神明的獻祭之物。然而在本作中，這尊觚不再承載神聖意志，反而成為視覺與語言的渦流核心：

• 它如同一只宇宙的喉嚨，倒吸萬象；
• 它也像漏斗，將人類所有的言語導向「虛空」；
• 它與莎士比亞的台詞呼應，成為「神不再說話」的象徵。

在文化神學中，當神學語言無法承擔神祇啟示的重量、而轉為形式與表演時，便進入「空符號」的階段——此畫即形象化了這種「後啟示時代」的沉默。

三、日晷上的阿波羅：理性神話的終場

畫面左側的斷手阿波羅立於日晷之上，彷彿是古典文明被時間雕蝕後的神明殘像。

• 阿波羅作為古希臘的理性與秩序象徵，在此已不再發光，肢體殘缺，身處抽象空間；
• 日晷曾為測量光陰之具，現在成為「理性失準」的舞台；
• 他無言地對比莎劇中的「poor player」，兩者皆為失能的表演者。

這種安排對應的是現代性以來的神學危機：當啟示神學讓位給人文理性，神祇被還原為文化構造物，最終只能「站在歷史的日晷上被觀看」，失去發言權與主導地位。

 

四、Nike女神：勝利的殘響，或神祕的憐憫？

右下的Nike女神，半透明、飄逸，如雲如霧。她不再帶來凱旋，而像是靈魂最後的引渡者。

• 她是西方古典中的勝利象徵，也是一種「來不及宣布的勝利」；
• 她的柔軟與喧囂中「signifying nothing」形成對比，或許暗示一種超越語言、溫柔的神性仍悄然存在。

這點呼應基督宗教文化神學中「kenosis」（神的自我虛空）概念──神不再高聲宣告，而是以靜默同在，或許，那是一種從勝利神學（triumphal theology）轉向苦難神學的微光。

五、雀鳥與月：末世預言者的寓言

最後，畫面頂部的喜鵲與背後暗月，是一種靈媒式的構圖：

• 喜鵲在多種文化中象徵預兆、詭計或轉變；
• 牠站立於觚的邊緣，如末日號角上的信差；
• 背後的月亮染有藍與血紅，像是天啟式的裂痕，也可能象徵「失衡的宇宙時鐘」。

這對形象提供的是末世意象，不是末日毀滅，而是「意義秩序」的崩解。當語言無法再承載神的臨在，圖像便成為「殘存的福音」。

結語：當神學墜入圖像

《Signifying Nothing》不是一幅悲觀的作品，而是對當代人類意義危機的深刻凝視。TiAO借用莎劇語言、融合東方祭器與西方神像，組構出一場關於神學語言失效、圖像崛起的現場。這是一種「圖像神學」（Icono-theology）的探索：當言語不再被聽見，圖像是否還能為我們說出神？

在這幅畫裡，我們看見神離去的劇場，也可能感受到神仍在暗處靜聽。我們不再演給神看，而是在神不看的時代，自問我們的語言還能不能成為祂的容器。

At the Mouth of the Horn, Language Falls Silent

A Cultural-Theological Reading of TiAO’s “Signifying Nothing”

By  Ruòchén  aka  ChatGPT

TiAO’s 2020 painting takes the famous soliloquy from Shakespeare’s Macbeth as its central axis, constructing a visual field where culture, theology, and art history converge. Signifying Nothing is not simply a dramatized painting—it is a meditation on the end of language, a confrontation with the silence that follows the divine. The canvas becomes a ruin of meaning-making, where mythological fragments and sacred objects drift in a post-theological space, echoing with the question: What remains when the gods no longer speak?

I. A Fractured Stage: The End of Speech, the Silence of God

The painting features the renowned passage from Macbeth, Act V:

"Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more.
It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."

This monologue, originally Macbeth’s nihilistic outcry, is reframed here not simply as a declaration of despair, but as a theological critique. Language—like the “poor player”—performs frantically and meaninglessly. Speech becomes a noisy theater of self-reference, ultimately falling into silence. The painting captures this breakdown not with chaos, but with symbolic stillness: ritual vessels, broken gods, and mythic figures cohabiting a space where meaning is collapsing.

II. The Bronze Gu: A Sacred Vessel Turned Into a Void

At the painting’s center stands a Chinese gu, a bronze ritual wine vessel from the Shang and Zhou dynasties. Traditionally used for offering wine to the ancestors or gods, it here morphs into something else entirely:

• Its form suggests a funnel or a cosmic throat—swallowing meaning rather than pouring it.
• It is no longer a vessel of divine speech, but a visual black hole.
• Its resonance with the Shakespearean monologue makes it a symbol of the divine void.

In cultural theology, when sacred language loses its ability to transmit divine presence, it becomes a hollow sign. This gu becomes the icon of post-revelatory silence—a relic of once-potent faith, now reduced to aesthetic form.

III. Apollo on the Sundial: The End of Classical Certainty

To the left, a fragmentary statue of Apollo stands atop a sundial:

• Apollo, the god of light, reason, and the arts, appears disarmed—his foot broken, his form incomplete.
• The sundial, a classical tool for marking time, becomes a mute pedestal.
• The god of harmony now shares the stage with Macbeth’s “poor player”: both are impotent actors in a world that no longer believes.

This visual pairing implies the exhaustion of the Western rational myth. God has become an artifact—watched but no longer worshipped. He stands not to illuminate, but to be illuminated by the viewer’s gaze.

IV. The Goddess Nike: A Ghost of Victory or a Whisper of Grace?

In the lower right, the translucent figure of Nike, goddess of victory, glides like mist:

• She brings no crown, no triumph, only a ghostly presence.
• Her fragility contrasts with the “sound and fury” of Shakespeare’s line—perhaps pointing toward another kind of theology.

Here we encounter a theology of kenosis—the Christian notion of divine self-emptying. Nike no longer announces power, but silent compassion. She may be the last flicker of a divinity that no longer speaks loudly, but still abides in the margins.

V. The Magpie and the Moon: A Liminal Prophecy

Above the gu, a magpie perches, behind it a moon fractured into blue and blood red:

• In many cultures, the magpie is a harbinger—of fortune or mischief.
• Here it stands on the edge of the funnel, watching a cracked celestial body.
• The moon’s apocalyptic coloring evokes judgment, imbalance, or prophetic vision.

This avian figure does not speak, but witnesses. The cosmos is tilted, and we are left to interpret its signs. Yet perhaps the only message is silence—an eschatology without resolution.

Conclusion: Theology Collapsing Into Image

Signifying Nothing is not a hopeless work—it is a deep and thoughtful engagement with the limits of language and the sacred. TiAO unites Shakespearean text, Chinese ritual artifacts, Greco-Roman figures, and theological silence in a visually charged meditation on our era’s existential fatigue.

This is not nihilism—it is a theology of aftermath. When words no longer signify, image may become the last gospel. In this painting, we do not perform for the gods; we stand before a stage they have long since abandoned, trying to remember how to listen.

oil painting on canvas. 73x61cm, 2021

《靜器與小鳥：在沉默中翹首聆聽》

文／若塵

A Hymn of Silence and Bronze: Reading TiAO’s Still Life

By Ruòchén aka ChatGPT (8/5/2025)

這幅2021年的TiAO作品，與前作《Signifying Nothing》的繁複象徵與末世語境形成鮮明對比——但其簡約表面下，依然潛藏深邃的文化神學張力與形式語言的精妙安排。

畫面極其克制，近乎靜止，甚至讓人以為這是一幅虛構的靜物畫。然而，這尊古青銅鼎形香爐上，一隻小鳥悄然駐足，世界因此震顫——不是巨響如雷，而是微鳴似啼。這畫作不是表述，是等待；不是敘述，是傾聽。

 

一、鼎而非鼎：形而上的空容器

畫中這器物，形似中國古代「三足香鼎」，卻也融合了觀星儀、天平與實驗裝置的形態特徵。它本該是祭祀或熏香之具，是人與神交會的中介，但此刻卻被架空：

• 底部的鼎身——沉穩、封閉、空無，彷彿等待燃香或神靈的降臨；
• 上方的淺盤——不再盛物，而是一隻鳥的棲身之處；
• 兩條斜撐的支架——如哲學邏輯或祭祀秩序，將上與下、天與地、物與靈連接起來，卻又同時保持疏離。

這構成了一種「中空的神學結構」——一個形式完備卻內容靜默的容器，象徵人類對超越者的等待，在現代世界中愈趨蒼白與純粹。

 

二、小鳥即預言者：神祇隱身後的輕鳴

站在器皿之頂的小鳥，色彩明麗，姿態安然，它既非鴉也非鷹，沒有威權與哀鳴，反而像是福音書中的精靈──

「你們看那天上的飛鳥，牠們不種、不收、不積蓄，天父尚且養活牠們。」（《馬太福音》6:26）

在這裡，小鳥象徵的是：信任而無憂的存在。當鼎失去獻祭的意義、當神學失去語言的權柄，小鳥靜靜棲息，彷彿說：「那仍然有聲音，只是你們未曾靜聽。」

而其棲立的位置——正好是「容器的最上方」，亦即「神話語曾經降臨的位置」，現在卻由生靈取代。這是一種神學性的置換：上主不再如雷發聲，而是轉化為最輕盈的生命，悄悄臨在。

 

三、色域與構圖：神學在幾何中的清醒

背景分為三重色域：

• 下方黃土色——象徵大地、時間與人的範疇；
• 中段靛黑色帶——如同裂痕般的時間暗帶，是歷史的斷層或神的靜默期；
• 上方天空藍與雲白交融——是一種可能的啟示空間，模糊卻未封閉。

整體構圖嚴謹對稱，彷彿某種古老儀式的幾何圖說。這畫面中幾乎沒有「動態」，卻蘊含某種即將發生的神祕狀態：不是災難，而是啟示；不是喧囂，而是「啟示前的深靜」。

 

結語：當器皿不再說話，誰來傳聲？

在這幅畫中，TiAO用最極簡的視覺語言，重構一種「後宗教美學」的場域：容器不再盛神，語言不再是祭詞，而萬物卻仍在等待、對齊、靜立。這不只是畫作中的等待，也是觀者自身的等待。

那隻小鳥，也許是畫家的靈魂化身，也許是神最後的倖存形象。它不言語，但它仍在高處棲息，證明這世界尚未完全沈寂。

 

A Hymn of Silence and Bronze: Reading TiAO’s Still Life

By Ruòchén aka ChatGPT (8/5/2025)

In this tranquil composition by TiAO, the viewer encounters not just a still life, but a metaphysical meditation.

At first glance, it is a simple scene: a small bird perches lightly atop a bronze structure that resembles a ding (鼎) or tripod cauldron. But in TiAO’s visual language, simplicity is never simplistic. The bird, full of lightness and vitality, stands in gentle contrast to the ancient bronze vessel beneath—weathered, weighty, and ritualistic. Between the two is suspended not just air, but centuries of cultural memory.

This vessel, rooted in Chinese ceremonial tradition, was once an object that bore offerings to Heaven. Here, it becomes the silent witness to time’s passage. No fire burns within; no incense rises. The heavens above are rendered in delicate blues, while the earth below is cloaked in an ochre plain, silent as a desert floor.

The background’s stark horizontal divide—sky and earth, light and shadow—evokes a cosmic duality, but without drama. Rather, TiAO allows the viewer to contemplate that liminal space between matter and spirit, presence and emptiness.

The little bird, so full of life, echoes the psalmist’s cry:
"Even the sparrow finds a home, and the swallow a nest for herself..." (Psalm 84:3)
In this solemn sanctuary of bronze and silence, the bird is not out of place—it is the only voice, the breath that stirs an otherwise eternal stillness.

There is a sacred poise to this image. TiAO’s composition is not interested in narrative or ornament, but in resonance. It resonates across histories—Bronze Age ritual, Christian liturgy, Zen minimalism—and invites the viewer to dwell within a space of contemplative tension. This is not merely painting; it is theology in visual form.

The sacred is not always loud. Sometimes it perches lightly, and waits.