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【文本之外:歷史之殤,仍在滲流 】
The Unwritten Seeps Through
年份|Year: 2026
行為藝術、參與式裝置、錄像、甜菜根、土壤、歷史課本、地圖、水、透明水袋、玻璃器皿、白色手套、銀色筆、雕刻刀、繩索與管線
Performance / Participatory Installation / Video / Beetroot / Soil / History Textbook / Maps / Water / Transparent Water Bag / Glass Vessel / White Gloves / Silver Marker / Carving Knife / Rope and Tubing

當歷史被寫進課本,哪些人的生命仍然留在文本之外?
When history is written into textbooks, whose lives remain outside the written record?
《文本之外》從歷史課本與地圖出發,探問歷史如何被選擇、編排與命名,以及個人、家庭與群體的生命經驗,如何在官方敘事中被省略、切割或重新書寫。
行為過程中,我從土裡將甜菜根連根拔起,戴上白色手套,以銀色筆在表面分別寫下「歷」與「史」兩個字,舉起來讓觀眾觀看。接著,我用雕刻刀沿著字跡刻入甜菜根的表皮與果肉,將割下的皮與肉放進盛水的透明玻璃器皿。紅色汁液緩慢釋出,使原本透明的水逐漸染紅。
甜菜根被拔除、命名與切割的過程,映照權力如何將生命從原有的土地與關係中分離,再納入特定的歷史秩序。白色手套與銀色筆,使這些動作帶著潔淨、理性與制度化的外觀。當「歷史」被直接雕刻進植物的身體,書寫也成為一道傷口。
將刻有「歷」與「史」的甜菜根夾入歷史課本與地圖,以書頁包覆、擠壓植物的身體,再一同放入透明水袋。水袋上書寫著觀眾對自身歷史的回應:
「關於你的歷史:____」「如果以水衡量,你覺得它有多少重量?」「___瓢水的重量。」我依照每段歷史所標記的瓢數,逐次從水桶舀水注入袋中,再將水袋以繩索吊掛於空間中央。難以被客觀衡量的生命經驗,因此轉化為可以被看見、提起與承受的實際重量。
透明的水逐漸進入書頁與地圖,擠壓其中的甜菜根。紅色汁液從植物的傷口滲出,穿過文字與紙張,使原本透明的水緩慢染紅。官方文本、個人記憶與植物的身體在同一個容器中交疊,逐漸無法被清楚分開。
最後,我以針刺穿水袋,讓染紅的水一滴一滴落在我的身體上。躺在吊掛的水袋下方,承接從文字、地圖、植物與眾人記憶之間滲出的歷史。我的身體同時處於書寫者與被書寫者的位置,既重演拔除、命名與切割的過程,也承接這些行動留下的重量與傷口。
當作品以裝置形式展出時,紅色液體將滴入下方的水桶,再透過管線被輸送回上方的水袋,形成持續循環的水路。歷史在循環中反覆流經書本、地圖與植物,逐漸混合、沉積並改變。它無法恢復透明,也沒有真正結束,而是不斷回到我們的身體與當下。
《文本之外》將歷史從固定的文字轉化為可以被承載、滲透與改變的物質。染色的書本、地圖、水袋、植物殘留物、循環水路與行為錄像,可依不同場域重新構成裝置,讓歷史持續流動、變形並留下痕跡。
The Unwritten Seeps Through begins with a history textbook and maps, examining how history is selected, organized, and named, and how personal, familial, and collective experiences may be omitted, divided, or rewritten within official narratives.
During the performance, I pull beetroot plants from the soil with their roots intact. Wearing white gloves, I use a silver marker to write the two Chinese characters for “history,” 歷 and 史, on their surfaces and hold them up for the audience to see. I then carve along the written lines. The removed skin and flesh are placed in a transparent glass vessel filled with water. Red pigment gradually spreads from the plant matter, slowly staining the clear liquid.
The process of uprooting, naming, and cutting reflects how power separates lives from their lands and relationships before placing them within a particular historical order. The white gloves and silver marker give these actions a clean, rational, and institutional appearance. When “history” is carved directly into the plant body, writing itself becomes a wound.
I place the beetroot carved with the characters 歷 and 史 between the pages of a history textbook and a map. The pages wrap around and press against the plant before they are placed together inside a transparent water bag. On the bag, audience members respond to the following prompts:
“Your history: ____”
“If measured in water, how much do you think it weighs?”
“The weight of ___ ladlefuls of water.”
Following the number of ladlefuls assigned to each history, I gradually pour water from a bucket into the bag and suspend it with rope at the center of the space. Experiences that are difficult to measure objectively are transformed into a physical weight that can be seen, lifted, and carried.
The clear water gradually enters the textbook and map, pressing against the beetroot inside. Red liquid seeps from the plant’s wounds and passes through printed words and paper, slowly staining the water. Official texts, personal memories, and the plant body overlap within the same container until they can no longer be clearly separated.
Finally, I pierce the water bag with a needle, allowing the red liquid to fall drop by drop onto my body. Lying beneath the suspended bag, I receive the histories seeping through words, maps, plants, and collective memory. My body occupies the positions of both the writer and the written. I reenact the acts of uprooting, naming, and cutting while receiving the weight and wounds they leave behind.
When presented as an installation, the red liquid drips into a bucket below and is carried through a tube back into the suspended water bag, forming a continuous circulation. Within this cycle, history repeatedly passes through the book, maps, and plant matter, gradually mixing, accumulating, and changing. It cannot become transparent again, nor does it truly end. It continually returns to our bodies and the present.
The Unwritten Seeps Through transforms history from fixed language into matter that can be carried, permeated, and changed. The stained book, maps, water bag, plant remains, circulating water system, and performance video can be reconfigured in response to different exhibition sites, allowing history to continue flowing, transforming, and leaving traces.
首次展演|Premiere
2026|太平洋左岸藝術季《Kahemekan 2026:療癒・自在》,花蓮大同戲院
2026|Kahemekan 2026, Datong Theater, Hualien, Taiwan
攝影師|林彥劭








