去文学化是否当代艺术的必由之路?去文学化是一个大浪，它几乎击沉了美术这 条船。美术似乎脱离文学很久了，有一段时间似乎艺术界都以作品中携带文学气 息为耻。
去象征、去隐喻与去内核。这个问题似乎是伴随去文学化开始的，象征和隐喻通 常是以某种符号的形式呈现的，无论象征、隐喻还是(甚至是)中心思想，都被 认为是装饰、矫情和“耍手段”，直来直去的一语中的才是王道。
中国当代艺术的去政治化。在中国第一代波普、玩世现实主义和艳俗之后，政治 符号开始退场，如今，政治符号更被认为是不入流的货色，但是，艺术一直以来 也是政治，艺术如何继续挂钩政治呢?
肯特里奇的动画电影是素描的运动，丁世伟的动画电影是水墨的活动;前者将一 个现实的故事讲得像一个旁观者的叙述，后者将一个想象中的印象说得跟真的似 的;前者编造了两个“真人”，后者在刨历史的坟;前者使用我们最熟悉的手段—— 比如出版、印刷、就地取材等等“一般常识”的“共知”，后者把素材圈定在集体记 忆中的“自知”范围内;前者关心的是长期的种族隔离，后者则描述过去和暂时的 利益集团......
丁世伟的作品还让我想到一个词:“轮回”。似乎这世界上就没有不轮回的事情， 其实轮回并非重复，轮回甚至是一种反动，你刚刚看到的恍如昨天的场景，其实 早已改朝换代，朝阳不似朝阳而更像夕阳。所以，轮回又好似一个悖论，后浪顶 着前浪的腰肢。
丁世伟其实没有什么政治企图，他企图用政治掩盖一颗观念的心。他将自己目前 的作品定调在黑白，貌似阶级斗争，其实形式主义。他作品中那些生动的 “动物” 和“非动物”，在一派庄严的气氛中，僵硬地重复整齐划一的动作。纪律和自觉， 意志和意愿，手段和目的，集体和个体，镰刀和镰刀，斧头和斧头，现世和往生， 地狱和天堂......在一个被黑白调和了的暧昧世界里，再没有一种颜色可以压倒一 切。丁世伟一直企图减少或降低政治元素在他作品中的数量和位置，但他同时又 需要它们来完整自己的记忆体系和表达方式。用政治符号或者表达政治观点是危 险的，不仅在政治上危险，在学术上同样危险，所以丁世伟其实因此而成为了高 危人群中的一员，这勇气可嘉。
说“乌托邦”政治，不如说它哲学，它是人类企图摆脱困境的一种精神努力。“乌托 邦”是一个幻想，或者说是一种超能力，而丁世伟或许在企图一个“现实的乌托邦”。 艺术家无能改变现实环境，却可以通过改变人们的头脑认知去影响未来，这是一 条曲线，一段时间，丁世伟恰好在这条曲线的时间上。我觉得丁世伟的这条曲线 和这段时间是往前追溯了的，往前越过了后现代、概念艺术、波普和抽象，回到 了黄金般的现代主义时期，他的作品格律严谨，形象可以看出德国表现主义的影 响，内核貌似荒诞，向外弥漫着诗意的潮气，千头万绪不出自同一源流，犹如被 镜头固定住的一截并不存在的风景，充满神性。
Huang Liaoyuan 2016
As a video artist of the new generation, Ding Shiwei’s works Goodbye, Utopia and Double Act led me to rethink the following questions:
1. Is de-literarification necessary for contemporary art? Like a strong current, de- literari cation has almost sunk the ship of art. It seems that art has long been separated from literature. For a while, it seemed shameful for artistic works to have a whiff of literature.
2. The abandonment of symbols, metaphors, and core meanings. The issue began with de-literari cation. Symbols and metaphors usually appear in the form of certain signs. Symbols, metaphors and (or even) themes are all considered as decorative, pretentious or “tricksy”, while direct and straightforward methods are considered the right way.
3. The de-politicization of contemporary Chinese art. After Pop, Cynical Realism and the Gaudy Art of the rst generation, political symbols began withdrawing from the stage. Nowadays, political symbols are considered passé. However, art is always political. How can art continue to be connected with politics?
Ding Shiwei’s works have answered the above three questions.
I am suddenly reminded of William Kentridge.
Kentridge’s animation lm is about the movement of sketches, while Ding’s animation lm is about the movement of ink paintings. While the former relates a realistic story as a bystander, the latter describes an imaginary scene as if it were real. The former invents two “real people” and the latter digs up the grave of history. The rst adopts the most familiar methods—press, printing, on-the-spot materials—something shared by all people with common sense, while the latter chooses the materials from within the realm of collective memory. The former is concerned with long-term apartheid, while the latter describes past and temporary interest groups...
Ding’s works reminds me of another word—samsara or reincarnation. It seems that everything in the world will reincarnate again. Yet instead of a repetition, reincarnation is even a rebellion sometimes. What you have just seen might seem like a scene from the day before, but in actual fact, whole ages have past; a sunrise appears more like a sunset. Samsara therefore feels like a paradox.
Ding Shiwei has, in fact, no political motive, but he does attempt to conceal what is inside of him with politics. His black-and-white works are more about formalism rather than class struggles. The vivid “animals” and “non-animals” in his works stiffly repeat neat and uniform movements in a serious manner. Discipline and self-discipline, will and willingness, means and ends, the group and individuals, sickles and sickles, axes and axes, the present and the past, heaven and hell...In a world dimmed in black and white, no color alone can any more be overwhelming. Ding Shiwei has been trying to downplay the quantity and position of political factors in his works, but he also needs them to ll in the gaps in his memory and expressions. It is dangerous to use political symbols or express political opinions, not only in politics but also in academia. So Ding in fact puts himself alongside highly risky people, and he is admirable for his courage.
“Utopia” is more philosophical than political. It represents the efforts of people trying to rid themselves of a predicament. Utopia is an imagination, or perhaps better a super-power; yet Ding is probably making a “realistic utopia”. Artists cannot change reality, but they can affect the future by changing people’s minds and cognition. This is a curve, a slice of time, and Ding happens to be positioned right on this curve. I think Ding’s curves and slices of time go backward, jumping past post-modernism, Pop, and abstract art to arrive at the golden period of modernism. His works are serious and strict, with seemingly ridiculous content and imagery influenced by German expressionism. With a poetic avor on the outside, a diverse array of in uences, his work is akin to a slice of non-existent scenery caught by the camera, full of spirit.