Sicheng Wang​

​Projects 

_ Spring to Summer in NYC 2020

paintings

_Memory Device2020

video, 3D animation, VR interactive

_Take the skies to travel, 2019

multichannel videos

_East Lake, 2019-2018

paintings

_Time is a river with no banks, 2018

installation, video

_Sunset of Baltimore, 2018-2017

paintings, installation, digital paintings, video

_Breaking down space, 2017-2016

paintings, installations

​Spring to Summer in NYC 2020

Diary 2: The starry sky in the stagnant water is a projection of cosmic debris

 

Rent a room to store my body every night like a book

Needs a bookshelf

But the body requires constant motion and is not satisfied in storage

 

Rent another studio to store ideas

The moonlight is as far away as galaxies; imagine

In an instant – 12,000 kilometers – the world turns half away

I need a storage room to ease the farewell of my leaving.

 

Rent a fragment of dusk with a river,

Temporarily store recent thoughts

Take a ferry for $2.75

Secretly enjoy the shadow of stars falling on the river

In front of this river I miss another: I miss this moment in front of another splash

 

Sleepless at midnight, a hand avoids my touch

The bay is shallow as the ocean is deep

Summer waves swept away my sunglasses and hat

Early in the morning, the moonlight was shattered

The sunlight, rampant and dominating

 

Spring does not belong to us this year, but belongs to the sky, flowers and rain. I had a long dream. In it I was falling downwards from the clouds; falling into infinitely similar rainy nights. Flanked by boredom and doubt, I was searching for love in the virtual world, choosing a numb confrontation: a confrontation nothing more than an indulging in the illusion of nothingness. In this fruitless time, my heart twisted into pieces. One was thrown on the bed haphazardly. The other forcibly placed on the desk, and the rest spin leisurely in the twilight.

 

Different moments render different doses. Desires are not distributed evenly. Time is flatly divided under the stirring of moon and stars. Yesterday became the present. In this next revolution, as desires fade away, I reconcile with life. The body is covered in unconscious pain.

 

Seeing myself gradually slide into the distorted chaos of early spring, I couldn't stop my thinking from falling and floundering. I lost track of the time in my body. In the early summer of May, New York was still paralyzed; I couldn't operate my own mind. The setting sun hovered in the gap between the buildings, waiting for cars; a chaotic city penetrated by silence.

 

For many people, historical events are distant and blurry images in the mind, close to us with a strong sense of alienation. With the passing of years, we can’t tell where these remembrances come from. All remaining images defined vague memories. When we retell stories, we mistakenly think that we are participants. Participants and readers finally condense these events into pictures: a series of story-telling words in a gradually blurred memory. Memories are never continuous, like a broken mirror reflecting countless broken images, the starry sky in the stagnant water is a projection of cosmic debris. The depiction of time in my works is no longer a coherent space-time, but a dotted, diffuse, and romantic expression.

 

In July, New York was still under the cloud of the pandemic, and life was agitated by unexpected events. We are struggling people who, like dust, are easily cast off by sunlight. I tried to reflect the objective world in subjectivity.

纽约的春到夏2020日记2:积水里的星空是宇宙碎片的投影

 

租一个房间,每晚存放身体

像一本书,需要一个书架

而身体需要不断运动,不适合被储藏

 

再租一个工作室,存放一些想法

这次,月光和星河一样遥远,想象

顷刻,1.2万公里,世界旋转半周

或许某天还需一个储藏室,在离去时缓解告别

 

租一片黄昏,再配上一片河水,

暂时存放最近的思绪,

用2.75美元坐一次轮渡,

偷偷欣赏河水上恒星降落的影子

在一条河上想念另一条河,或者在另一片水花上想念此刻

 

午夜不眠, 渡口处尝试牵一个人的手

此刻水湾清浅如旧,而海洋自顾自深

夏日海浪卷走我的墨镜和帽子

清晨,月光被击碎,太阳横行日光霸道

 

春天不属于今年的我们,属于天空,花朵和雨水。我做了许久的梦垂直坠落云端,在无数个相似的雨夜里坠落。除了厌倦和怀疑,我还在虚拟的世界里寻找爱情。索性选择一种麻木的对抗。这种对抗也许不过是在虚无的假象里兀自沉迷。一想到这个无所事事的季节,内心就扭曲成了几段,一段被随意扔在床上,一段强行摆上书桌,还有几段在黄昏的光线里悠悠的打转。

 

生命在不同的时刻有着不同的剂量,欲望分配的并不平整。在月光和恒星的搅拌下时光被均匀分割。昨日搅动成今时,在下一个公转周期里,欲望以消退的的方式与生活达成了和解,身体以无知无觉的方式套上疼痛。

 

看着自己在初春开始滑向荒诞不明的混沌中,却无法阻止思维滑落的方向,身体里残留着春秋冬夏却不知时日。五月初夏的纽约还在瘫痪中,连带着我的思维也动弹不得。落日悬停在大楼缝隙间等车,哄乱的城市被沉默击穿。

 

对于许多人来说,历史事件更多的是脑海里一张张疏远的图像,明明离我们的生活很近,但是确带有强烈的疏离感。当多年过后我们已记不清楚我们是在报道里看到,还是当时在场,而所有留存的图像定义了模糊不清的回忆。可能我们都是转述人,误以为自己是参与者,而众多参与者在逐渐模糊的记忆里最后将事件凝练成一个个画面或者一串讲故事的话语。记忆从来都不是连续的,如同破碎的镜子折射出无数断裂的画面,好似积水里的星空是宇宙碎片的投影。我的作品中时间的细节不再是连贯的时空,而是一个个点状的弥散的浪漫表达。

 

普鲁斯特在书中写过:“时间看起来好象完全消逝,其实不然,它正与我们自身融为一体。 日积月累保存在记忆中的,是所有这一系列并不准确的表述,其中唯独没有我们的真实感受,对我们而言,这些表述就是我们的思想,我们的生活,就是现实;正是从这些有违真实的表述中,产生了一种所谓“真实”的艺术。“

 

七月的纽约还在疫情的阴云之下,生命因意想不到的事件躁动。我们不过是挣扎着的庸碌之人,是被阳光轻轻弹掉的灰尘。而我试图在“主观意念”中反映“客观世界”。

 

七月,于纽约

 

王偲丞

_ 2020 Fall, Threat 2020

video, music