文：刘成瑞
最近睡前会读一会儿《西藏禁地》，这本书写于1897年，是亨利·萨维奇·兰道尔从印度进入西藏的非法探险记录。书中不仅描述了这次探险旅程的细节，还配有摄影和实景素描，有助于对一百多年前的藏区展开想象。但我在阅读中会经常生气，有明显被冒犯的感觉，尤其是作者在描述当地牧民的那种所谓人类学笔调，以及溢满字里行间的得意和傲慢。有文化的人并不一定文明，尽管这个人代表着当时的文明世界。
回望我们在这几十年看到的关于藏地的视觉艺术，尤其摄影，依然没挣脱兰道尔的魔咒，还是一类人对另一类人的猎奇记录，甚至缺乏善意，只为了生产出区别于另一种文明的图像，特殊，苦难或煽情。要知道真正的人类站在前二者之间，有时劳作，有时凝望，有时只是晃晃悠悠的拖着一只袖子漫步在荒原……而不只有“巴扎嗨”和“扎西德勒”。人与人也不是靠特殊性寻求共鸣，而是人普遍共有的情感来建立联结。
当然，现在的藏地早已不是兰道尔那时的样子，也不是十年或者五年前的面貌，早在2014年三江源头杂多县成的菜铺里我就听到单曲循环的埃米纳姆；向导藏袍下贴身的衬衣不是七匹狼就是皮尔卡丹；年轻人体恤的logo也不只是阿迪达斯和耐克，还有LV和巴黎世家。而且在藏区小卖店我经常见到标价100元的杰克丹尼，问老板是真是假，老板说，比真的好。在那里，重要的不是真假，而是能否与国际接轨，哪怕只是表面上的。
影像作为与世界建立联系的中介，必然要关注到类似日常中的轻盈、幽默，以及泛着淡淡悲伤的苍白。每当这时，我会用纯碱的作品来填充这部分空缺，那些游离在仪式、猎奇和同情之外的图像，告诉我们人是怎么找到日常之光，并借此生存下来的，而不是将某种符号强制曝光在我们视网膜，好像反复强调某种确定的刻板印象，刻板印象会成为刻在嘛尼石上的六字真言。
纯碱成长于黄南同仁，在藏区的概念中是安多地区。我记得小时候经常看到西宁开往同仁的班车路过我们村开往另一片起起伏伏的淡蓝色光笼罩着的群山之中。要不是他们的班车比开往我们县城的班车大还豪华，我会坚信那是个很偏僻的地方。
同仁藏语为“热贡”，是藏传佛教热贡艺术的发源地。从古代羌族、吐谷浑到吐蕃、元明清，再到近现代的行政建制。在这漫长时间长河的洗礼中，斗争在所难免，但生活在这片土地的人配得上这高海拔莽原巨川的开阔才能与地理本具有的残酷性抗衡。这就需要妥协，融合。藏区的妥协并不是因为软弱，而是因为谦卑和敬畏。这在《西藏禁区》中也有原文，出自一藏族军官之口。妥协，融合后就不会大惊小怪；有谦卑和敬畏，能免于妄自菲薄。这可能是在同仁出生长大的纯碱能很淡然的面对自己创作的原因。他不会因为一个作品方案深入藏区进行艰苦的创作实践，而是想去这个区域时顺便以抓取打动自己或自认为有价值的画面的理由前往，通常不是站在风景中，而是藏在人群里。也许，在他看来，人才是那片大地真实面貌。挂满经幡的苦修洞中被人膜拜的修行者的手印远远不及发现一位相谈甚欢的僧人在自己的袈裟后肩手绘的耐克图案，俗世深邃的幽默更具有与世界沟通的淡然和诗性。
纯碱所记录的每一个人，包括小镇青年、艺术家朋友，卖藏饰的摊主、僧人……都是漫步中的自己，像是一位拥有时间主权的少年，不在意时间的流逝，也不执着于能否登上某个高峰或站在某个垭口，他看似漫不经心的扎根在自己看到的真实当中。因此，表达只是他呼吸的另一种方式，他不会在记录或拍摄时目的先行，有目的就无法漫步了，成了跋涉，而他所记录的土地和人们只是以漫步的方式路过了自己的一生，顺便路过了风景和悲喜。纯碱本就是一位漫步者，像每一个在高原生活的人一样，被诵经声和风声塑造，也被绿松石和时尚吸引，不仅反复漫步到童年所见所构筑的意象中，而且缓慢出入于办公桌和美术馆，城市和荒原，永恒和破碎之间。
在我问及纯碱自己的作品是纪实摄影还是观念类作品时，他说，观念多一点。在我看来，这“多一点”也不是后现代主义衍生出的观念先行，而是基于特有的生命观，将自己坚持的真实定格，存档。因这种真实中的“我”如此重要，我将其“多一点”理解为“我”多一点。至少，我们能从他的影像中找到我们自己的记忆，不论你生在高原还是海边；而且你不会认为被记录者是特殊的个体或少数族裔，而是“我”或者我的普遍存在。当我在记录并创造我，你和他就隐遁了，剩下关于“我”的真实。
纯碱习惯以系列的方式为自己的摄影作品命名，但他所有的作品集又有着相似的时间性和真实度。无论是《牙什尕》《多弥乌苏》，还是《羌羌木》。如果将纯碱所有的摄影集或系列作品打散，并集合在一起。任何一个观众或读者都可以根据自己的理解重组出新的叙事，但依然在纯碱所创造的意象结构中，这必然得益于纯碱的不迫切和没有目的。作为“个体”的作品因此获得了最大限度的自由，作品的真实度也更接近普遍存在的事实，而不是对一民族或地域的刻板记录。所有的刻板印象不是源自傲慢就是无知，是对真实性的远离。
纵观关于藏地摄影史，从探险者的殖民视角，到二十世纪四十年代的庄学本，从政治宣传为主的吕厚民等到改革开放后的人文视角，比如吕楠和王征，再到自媒体时代碎片般的图像堆砌。纯碱是个独特的存在，也是孤例。他所记录的真实，是那片大地本来的样子。他所呈现的日常，是我们每个人的日常。
我和纯碱有着相似的经历，在藏地长大，以求学之名离开后在城市生活，我们尊重有信仰的每一个个体和群体，但我们却没有具体的信仰，我们进教堂划十字，去佛堂磕头。我们穿衬衣或短袖，胸前必然挂着一块或几块绿松石……而且，我们都被认为有一种幽默感，以克尔凯郭尔人的理解，幽默源自某种忧郁，那我们的忧郁源自失去的过去，还是或许可以遥想的未来。
阅读《西藏禁地》生气劲儿已经过了，现在我看到的藏地，跟纯碱记录的一样，不只是高原和少数民族，还是一个国际诺亚大方舟：缓慢，平静，也不乏时尚。
2025年3月3日，于北京

刘成瑞，1983年生于青海，成长于半游牧家庭。2005年毕业于青海师范大学美术系，现生活、工作于北京。作品涉及行为、绘画和文字。2006年青海湖畔发起的“十年计划”是其创作的人文基石，与众多的参与者以“约定”为纽带，重塑彼此的生命图景和社会人格。他的作品力图接近普通人的决绝和诗性，并以神话、寓言、消费等意象呈现出强烈的个人意志和复杂的精神现实。诗歌是他的想象力之源，他主理日更诗歌订阅号“惩罚骄傲”，独立出版个人诗集《悲伤》（2017）、《于是河》（2013）、《何路向东》（2004）。

Chunjian: Rambler

by LiuChengrui
I recently read Forbidden Places in Tibet, an 1897 account of Henry Savage Randall’s illegal expedition into Tibet from India. The book describes not only the details of the expedition, but also photographs and live sketches that help to visualize Tibetan areas more than a century ago. But I often get angry and feel distinctly offended as I read, especially in the supposedly anthropological way the author describes the local herders, and the complacency and arrogance that permeates the lines. A literate person is not necessarily civilized, although this person represents the civilized world at the time.
Looking back at what we have seen in the past few decades about the visual arts of Tibet, especially photography, is still not free from the spell of Randauer, is still a record of one kind of people to another kind of people in search of novelty, even lack of goodwill, only to produce images that distinguish another civilization, special, suffering or sensational. To know that real human beings stand in between the first two, sometimes working, sometimes staring, sometimes just strolling through the moors with one sleeve behind them… And not just “Bazahi” and “Tashi Delek.” People do not rely on particularity to seek resonance, but the common emotions of people to establish a connection.
Of course, Tibet today is no longer what Landauer was then, nor what it was ten or five years ago. As early as 2014, I heard Eminem singing in a vegetable shop in Zadoo County, the source of the Three Rivers. The shirt under the guide’s Tibetan robe is either the Septwolves or Pierre Cardin; Young people’s logos are not only Adidas and Nike, but also LV and Balenciaga. And in the Tibetan area of the store I often see the price of 100 yuan Jack Danny, ask the boss is true or false, the boss said, better than really. There, what matters is not authenticity, but international conformity, even if only on the surface.
As a medium for connecting with the world, images must be concerned with the lightness, humor, and pale sadness of everyday life. At these times, I fill in the gaps with Chunjian’s work, images that wander beyond ritual, curiosity, and compassion to show us how people find the light of everyday life and survive it, rather than forcibly exposing certain symbols to our retinas as if to reiterate certain stereotypes. Stereotypes become six-word truths carved into the stone.
Tongren Tibetan language is “Regong”, is the birthplace of Tibetan Buddhism Regong art. From the ancient Qiang nationality, Tuyuhun to Tubo, Yuan, Ming and Qing dynasties, and then to the modern administrative system. In the baptism of this long river of time, the struggle is inevitable, but the people living in this land deserve the openness of this high altitude wilderness giant river to contend with the cruelty of the geography. This requires compromise, integration. Tibetan compromise is not because of weakness, but because of humility and awe. This is also in the original text of the Tibet Forbidden Zone, from the mouth of a Tibetan officer. Compromise, fusion, no fuss; There is humility and awe, and freedom from self-deprecation. This may be the reason why Chunjian, who was born and raised in Tongren, can face her own creation calmly. He will not go deep into the Tibetan areas for a work project to carry out arduous creative practice, but when he wants to go to this area, he will go there for the reason of capturing images that impress him or that he thinks is valuable, usually not standing in the scenery, but hiding in the crowd. Perhaps, in his eyes, talent is the real face of the land. The handprints of the worshiped practitioners in the prayer flower-covered caves are far less than the nikes painted by a convivial monk on the back shoulder of his robes, and the profound humor of the world is more of a calm and poetic communication with the world.
Everyone Chunjian records, including small town youth, artist friends, vendors selling Tibetan jewelry, monks… All of them are walking themselves, like a teenager who has the sovereignty of time, does not care about the passage of time, nor does he cling to whether he can climb a certain peak or stand in a certain pass, he seems to be casually rooted in the reality he sees. Therefore, expression is just another way for him to breathe, he will not record or shoot the purpose first, there is a purpose can not walk, become a trek, and the land and people he records just walk through their own life, passing by the scenery and sorrow and happiness. Chunjian is originally a rammer, shaped like everyone who lives in the highlands by the sounds of scripture and wind, drawn by turquoise and fashion, wandering repeatedly not only into the imagery constructed by the sights and sounds of childhood, but also slowly between desk and gallery, city and wasteland, eternal and broken.
When I ask Chunjian whether his work is documentary or conceptual, he says it’s more conceptual. In my opinion, this “a little more” is not the concept first derived from postmodernism, but based on a unique view of life, the reality that they adhere to is fixed and archived. Because this true “me” is so important, I take “a little more” to mean “a little more of me.” At the very least, we can find in his images our own memories, whether you were born in the highlands or by the sea; And you don’t think of the person being recorded as a particular individual or a minority, but as “me” or my universal existence. When I am recording and creating me, you and he are hidden, and the truth about “me” remains.
Chunjian has a habit of naming his photographs as a series, but all his collections have a similar timeliness and realism. Whether it is Yashigat, Domi Wusu, or Qiang Qiang Mu. If you break up all of Chunjian’s photo albums or series and gather them together. Any audience or reader can reconstruct a new narrative according to their own understanding, but still remain in the image structure created by Chunjian, which is bound to benefit from Chunjian’s lack of urgency and purposeless. Works as “individuals” thus gain the maximum freedom, and the authenticity of the works is closer to the universal reality, rather than the stereotypical record of a nation or region. All stereotypes are born of either arrogance or ignorance, a distance from reality.
Throughout the history of Tibetan photography, from the colonial perspective of explorers to the Zhuang Xueben in the 1940s, from the political propaganda oriented Lu Houmin to the humanistic perspective after the reform and opening up, such as Lu Nan and Wang Zheng, to the fragmented image accumulation in the era of “We media”. Chunjian is a unique presence and an isolated case. What he recorded was true, the land as it was. The everyday he presents is the everyday of each of us.
Chunjian and I had a similar experience, growing up in Tibet and living in the city after leaving in the name of study. We respected every individual and group who had faith, but we had no specific faith. We entered the church to make the cross and kowtowed to the Buddhist hall. When we wear shirts or short sleeves, we must have a piece or pieces of turquoise on our chest… And we are all supposed to have a sense of humor, which, in the Kierkegaard sense, comes from a certain melancholy, whether our melancholy comes from a lost past or perhaps a distant future.
The anger of reading “Tibet Forbidden Land” has passed, and now I see Tibet, like Chunjian’s record, not only plateau and ethnic minorities, but also an international Noah’s ark: slow, calm, and no lack of fashion.
March 3 2025 inBeijing

Liu Chengrui, born in Qinghai in 1983, grew up in a semi-nomadic family. He graduated from the Fine Arts Department of Qinghai Normal University in 2005 and now lives and works in Beijing. The work involves behavior, drawing and writing. The “Ten-year Plan” initiated by Qinghai Lakeside in 2006 is the humanistic cornerstone of its creation, and many participants use “engagement” as a bond to reshape each other’s life picture and social personality. His works try to approach the determination and poetic nature of ordinary people, and present strong personal will and complex spiritual reality with images such as myth, fable and consumption. Poetry is the source of his imagination, and he is the director of the Daily poetry subscription “Punish Pride”, and has independently published his own collections of poems “Sorrow” (2017), “So the River” (2013), and “Where to the East” (2004).