无题，128×100cm，艺术微喷，2013
文/邵光华
作为对近年来工作成果的集中呈现，卜云军最新个展《大象》是艺术家首次以摄影、绢上水墨、纸本油画棒等多种媒介串联起自身的整体创作脉络，将其个体性、私密性的创作美学予以阶段性的梳理。绘画专业出身的卜云军，毕业后一度以摄影作为主要的创作媒介。摄影之于他最大的魅力便在于能够将光影之间的微妙关系，以一种直接的方式展现出来。从一开始拿起相机，他便有意识地回避掉某些主题性的拍摄对象，他的摄影作品带有一种对日常的关注，认为最日常的事物中也富含精神性，其中最常出现的场景便是他的工作室。在《大象》的现场，卜云军选择三张摄影作品来呈现过往的工作方式与创作理念。其中最早的一幅拍摄于2014年的黑桥工作室，彼时他偏爱在光线昏暗的情况下进行拍摄，日常的场景在他的镜头下呈现出一种似曾相识的陌生状态。当光线与事物共同纠缠于某个"可见/不可见"的临界点时，事物在他看来就抵达了某种最真实的状态。无题，100x123cm，艺术微喷，2010
无题，150×186cm，艺术微喷，2017
拍摄时，卜云军基本上是只用自然光线。因为在他看来，摄影就是由拍摄对象和此时此刻的光线所组成的，所有的关系都是浑然天成的，严谨如数学公式，又微妙得令人着迷。此时事物走出了完全的遮蔽（黑），虽然能够被看见，但又不至于一览无余（白）， 而是处在两者之间，也是光与事物交互关系最为丰富的时刻。
《2018》，125×120cm，艺术微喷，20182018年的时候，卜云军曾用整年时间来做一件摄影作品，就是在每天日出的时刻，在黑夜与白昼的临界点，拍摄同一张可以映照出艺术家自身光影的黑色纸张，最终拍摄了三百多张，直到上面落满了浮尘。看似无意义的重复把时间性引入到作品，于是，在他的世界里，时间的流动不靠墙上的指针来标明，而是经由光线与事物的交互，以及他注入其中的个体感知来体现。
正式拍摄前，卜云军会有一个和光线、拍摄对象的"对话"过程。这个过程是沉默的，也是漫长的。就像从窗户外投射进来的光线与工作室桌子上的一张黑纸之间，会天然形成一种微妙的关系，他每次都会像发现新大陆般对其久久凝视。而在漫长的对话、凝视的过程中，一些私人的感受或潜意识中的不安，都会如光线般让事物的形象"显现"，并成为事物本身的一部分。
无题，150x111cm，艺术微喷，2019
那些光与物象之间细微的反光、虚影、折痕、凹陷、凸起，比起形象本身更能够吸引他，并顺理成章成为作品的主角。尽管光线与事物之间的丰富关系，是所有摄影作品的共同关注，但具体到某张摄影作品，它在某个特定时间点会被关注到，自然与艺术家的自身经验有关。无题，100x200cm，艺术微喷，2013
当一团莫名的黑影侵入画面，仿佛幽灵般游走在客观的物理世界和内在心理世界间，令人不安。我们可以认为它就是那个瞬间的影像真实，或者是艺术家个体深处某种潜意识的意象。更重要的是，这种不安让观者和艺术家建立起一种隐秘的亲近，两者的内在世界藉由一团黑影、一堆医院里换下的床单或其他最简单的物象而相互贯通。
无题-3，100×113cm，艺术微喷，2017
无题，100×113cm×3，艺术微喷，2017
因为摄影天然的写实性，图像自诞生起就像机器般精准，并抗拒着艺术家将主观感知注入其中的企图。围绕着图像展开的创作或多或少都会受到写实性的限制，我们天然倾向于从中分辨并解读出某些确定的物象。因此在卜云军的创作中，具体形象只是起点，艺术家所做的便是以各种方式在具体形象中打开裂缝，并将自己的东西悄悄藏匿其中，其媒介可以是摄影、绘画或其他形式，这并不重要，因为藏匿在图像裂隙中的观念与感受才是它们存在的理由（raison d'etre）。
其实将墨运用到自身的创作中，此前已有伏笔。卜云军对墨并不陌生，甚至还有一些亲切感。毕业之后，他曾在水墨艺术家李华生的工作室工作过两年，帮助其整理资料，因此对墨的物理特性有所认知。作为材料，墨干涸后形成的黑色反光让他想起摄影中那些令人着迷的光斑，墨的黑色则可以把图像中许多无关的信息去除，这为他提供了继续推进的可能。无题-花 No.4, 200x200cm, 绢上水墨，2022，（局部）
无题-花 No.4, 200x200cm, 绢上水墨，2022
作为"无题-花"系列的起点，卜云军选择的图像来源是用手机随意拍摄的路边花草。图像本身并不重要，他的意图在于从写实性的图像出发，探索出具体形象所蕴含的可能性，或者用他自己的话来说——“抵抗形象”。“......我的工作最终变成了如何撕开这些具体形象，在这些裂缝中放入一些其它的东西。抵抗形象成了工作的重点，最终有了这些绘画作品。”因此，卜云军无意与其他画家比拼技术或意境，而是机械地、重复地用浓墨勾勒或填补出物象的基本轮廓，在"遮蔽/显现"的模糊地带，将个体表达植入形象的裂隙之中。毛笔在绢上直接作画会遗留下许多残缺和不精准，却也让卜云军可以在具体形象之外拉扯出一个空间，在破坏掉作品与图片素材关联后，在漫长的工作过程中，让时间性与个体感受一道，决定作品最终呈现的样态。无题-花，展览现场
很多时候他所做的就是一层层地覆盖，先确定物象的基本形态，然后第二遍、第三遍......直到最后将整个背景也上满墨色。在"无题-花"系列之初，物象尚没有完全填满整个画面，画面仍有留白以及写意性的成分，在探索期的卜云军，彼时并没有完全跳脱出累积千年的水墨传统。但一些个人性的处理已经初见端倪，比如在早期的《无题-花》作品中，他有时会将一些并无连贯意义的文字加入进去，既在具体图像与文字符号之间撕扯出更多的自由空间，同样也是对"诗书入画"传统的戏谑与调侃。随着创作的推进，在最新的"无题-花"系列的创作上中，卜云军开始对画面加以调整：将基于单张图像展开的创作变为多个图像的拼贴，直到让缠连的枝叶花朵填满整个画面；加大画面的尺幅，好让物象不至于被"尽收眼底"，以展现光线对物象的介入与干扰，并显示观看本身的动态性；最后，卜云军会让一滩墨汁在近乎完成的画面中突兀地停留、干涸，仿佛是制作出一个把手，将形象从二维平面牢牢地锚定在我们身处的三维世界；如疤痕如黑洞，把观者深深地向内部吸引过去。
这一对图像的主动遮蔽，在他以前的摄影作品中已经有所显现，彼时他往往把二维的图像当成是物本身，或是进行激进的裁剪、或是让它们以物的方式存在。在他看来，也许只有破坏了观众所熟知的形象之后，那些属于他自己的独特东西才会真正地显现出来。从摄影过渡到绘画，卜云军不再被动等待光线与物象之间微妙时刻的到来；而是主动切入图像之中，以写实性为起点，通过长时间的工作逐渐消磨掉物象本身的写实性，同时也将时间本身的痕迹记录在作品中，最终让绘画作品变成某种糅合了客观与主观的感知/织体。无题No.2，纸上油画棒，150x250cm，2021
和"无题-花"系列一样，用油画棒创作的"无题"系列的图像同样来自手机随拍。《大象》现场所展示的两件作品，便是以工作室布帘的照片为素材。就这些素材本身而言，基本没有什么特殊指向，重点在于卜云军发现了油画棒在纸本上划过后，在笔触内部会留下一些虚线般的缺口。对于卜云军来说，这一发现意味着他在"抵抗形象"方向上的推进有了新的可能性——也就是在不破坏具体形象本身结构性的同时，让它自然地出现裂痕。
"万物皆有裂隙，那正是光透进来的地方"（“There is a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in”），这些空缺的出现，对卜云军来说就像发现了一片新大陆，用油画棒创作的作品不会像摄影一样忠实的再现，意味着他从写实性的出走获得了新的自由。如此一来，虽然卜云军是"再现"了这些形象素材，但形象本身已经有了无数“裂隙 ” ，而通过这些裂隙，时间会自动将其内在感受引入。在绘画的二维平面上，图像本身处在游移不定的漂浮状态：时而作为具体的物象而整体地浮现，时而沉入其中，只留下一些微小的细节，展现光线、物象之间丰富的关系。观者的目光也随着笔触的推移，在黑色及其裂隙之间来回穿行，布帘本身仿佛被无限放大，光线被分解成无数细微的粒子，进而成为某种实体，在目光的注视下，形象的细节与观者的目光彼此纠缠，犹如量子力学描述的纠缠现象一般：光线、目光、物象、心绪......在极其微观的维度上彼此相互作用，进而被综合成一种整体的性质，内容与观念之间的暧昧且丰富的关系由此生发。无题2023.5.12-1，150x120cm，布上水墨，2023
无题2023.5.12-1,2,3，150x120cm x3，布上水墨，2023
从摄影到如今的绘画，卜云军的工作方式就是不断对形象进行减法练习。正是在减法之中，我们得以窥见艺术家在创作上所深入的程度有几许。先是在摄影中减去了主题和叙事，将图像本身置于"可见与不可见"之间的临界状态，感受所附着的对象与其说是具体的物象，不如说是形象周遭的边角料：一点反光、折痕、暗影或抖动。在转入绘画创作后，卜云军对墨、油画棒等传统绘画材质的使用，同样也无视它们一贯的造型法则，减去了"墨分五色"的水墨传统与油画棒的写实性，但仍然依照材质本身的特点去挑战具体形象本身的合法性。直到布上水墨作品《无题》，最基本的形象都已经不复存在了。在该系列中，卜云军将博物馆里的画作当成是肖像画的模特，但他所关注的并非某个具体形象，而是画作给予他的感受， 最后保留古典画框作为作品来源的提示。于是，卜云军利用墨的反光来重现古典油画之于他的观感，先是在木板布面上一层层地刷墨，然后打磨掉表面粗糙的颗粒，直到作品呈现出一种半镜面的效果。当立足于作品之前，观者自身的形象会映照于作品中，这也仿佛是一种无言的交流。无题No.3，局部
无题No.3，纸上油画棒，150x270cm，2023
在具体的形象被彻底减去之后，画面中那些"无关紧要"的细节此时成了舞台上唯一的演员：那些模糊的反光、打磨留下的擦痕、纤维与纤维之间的缝隙或者一道莫名的反光...... 于是，作为"面孔"的形象主体消失了，取而代之的是含混的细节，供漂浮的感觉暂时停留其上，作品便成为某些基于隐秘体验的"莫名之物"。卜云军的工作便是从形象破碎的虚空中，以个体的瞬间感觉、长期的思考与探索将这些某名之物再次捕捉。因此，只有当我们透过作品的视觉表象，忘记那些经过理论背书的观看机制，让感觉真正走向微观、成为粒子进入形象的裂隙中并与之共振、纠缠，就能够在卜云军这些"暧昧模糊"的作品中，看到一种绝对的清晰。As a concentrated presentation of his recent work, Bu Yunjun's latest solo exhibition "The Elephant in The Room" is the first time he has connected various media such as photography, ink on silk, and oil pastels on paper to showcase his overall creative trajectory.
Coming from a background in painting, Bu Yunjun initially focused on photography as his primary medium after graduating. The allure of photography for him lies in its ability to directly depict the marvelous relationship between light and shadow. From the moment he picked up the camera, he consciously avoided certain thematic subjects, and his photography reflects an attention to everyday life, with his studio being the most frequently depicted setting.
During the exhibition, Bu Yunjun chose three photographic works to showcase his past working methods and creative philosophy. The earliest piece, Untitled, was taken in 2014 at the Heiqiao studio, where he preferred shooting in dim lighting conditions. Everyday scenes appeared blurry through his lens, accentuating subtle changes in the imagery. When light and objects reach a critical point of "visible/invisible," that is the most authentic state of things.
When we choose to embrace a "ontology of the lens," everything captured by the lens, whether underexposure or overexposure, lens movement, or film noise, represents a certain reality existing in the dimensions of time and space. In the development of photography to this day, technology is not the decisive factor; conveying ideas effectively is sufficient.In the process of creating photographic works, Bu Yunjun undergoes a relatively long preparatory phase: determining the subject, deciding on the shooting time, contemplating the conceptual expression behind the creation, and then taking a small sample with a mobile phone. When shooting, Bu Yunjun generally doesn't use artificial lighting, relying only on natural light. In his view, photography is composed of the subject being photographed and the light present at that very moment. All the relationships are naturally occurring, as precise as mathematical formulas yet delicately captivating.At this point, the subject emerges from complete concealment (black). Although it can be seen, it's not revealed in its entirety (white). Instead, it exists in between, representing the most enriching interaction between light and the subject.In 2018, Bu Yunjun spent an entire year creating a photography piece. He captured the same black paper that could reflect light and shadows every sunrise until it was covered with floating dust. Seemingly meaningless repetition introduced a temporal aspect into the artwork. In his world, the flow of time is not indicated by the hands on a clock but is manifested through the interaction of light and objects, infused with his individual perception.Before the actual shoot, Bu Yunjun engages in a silent and lengthy dialogue with the light and the subject. This process is contemplative and enduring. Just like the subtle relationship naturally formed between the light coming in from outside the window and a black paper on the studio table, he would gaze at it as if discovering a new continent every time. During the prolonged dialogue and gaze, some personal feelings or subconscious anxieties would "manifest" like light and even become a part of the subject.The subtle reflections, shadows, creases, depressions, and protrusions between light and objects captivate him more than the image itself, becoming the protagonists of the artwork in a logical sequence. Although the rich relationship between light and objects is a common focus in all photography works, the specific attention a particular photograph receives at a specific moment is naturally related to the artist's personal experiences.For instance, in Untitled, an inexplicable dark shadow invaded Bu Yunjun's Heiqiao studio, where his life and work were integrated. Once released, the dark shadow began to possess a liberated life, resembling a ghost wandering between the objective physical world and the inner psychological world, causing discomfort. We can consider it as the momentary image of reality or an unconscious image from the artist's depths. More importantly, this unease establishes a hidden closeness between the viewer and the artist, allowing their inner worlds to connect through a dark shadow, a pile of hospital sheets, or other simplest objects.Because of the inherent realism of the photographic medium, the image is precise, almost machine-like from its inception, resisting the artist's infusion of subjective perception. In the creative process revolving around the image, there are inevitably constraints imposed by its realism. We naturally tend to discern and interpret certain definite objects from it.Therefore, in Bu Yunjun's creative process, specific images are just the starting point. What he does is open cracks in these concrete images in various ways and stealthily hide his own elements within them. The medium could be photography, painting, or other forms, but that's not important because the concepts and feelings hidden within the cracks of the image are the reasons for their existence.Incorporating ink into his creative work had been foreshadowed. Bu Yunjun is familiar with ink and even feels a certain affinity for it. After graduating, he worked in the studio of ink artist Li Huasheng for two years, helping to organize materials and gaining an understanding of the physical properties of ink. As a material, the black reflection formed by ink when dried reminded him of the captivating light spots in photography. The black color of ink could also eliminate many irrelevant details in the image, providing him with the potential to progress further.As the starting point of the "Untitled-Flower" series, Bu Yunjun chose images taken randomly with a mobile phone of roadside flowers and plants. The images themselves are not crucial; his intent is to start from realistic images and explore the possibilities inherent in these concrete forms, or in his own words - to "resist the image.""... My work ultimately became about how to tear apart these concrete images and insert something else into these cracks. Resisting the image became the focus of my work, and eventually led to these paintings."Therefore, Bu Yunjun has no intention of competing with other ink painters in terms of technique or artistic conception. Instead, he mechanically and repetitively uses thick ink to outline or fill in the basic contours of the object. In the ambiguous zone of "concealment/manifestation," he embeds individual expressions into the cracks of the image. Directly painting with a brush on silk leaves many flaws and imprecisions, yet it also allows Bu Yunjun to stretch out a space beyond the concrete image. By disrupting the association between the work and the source image, in the lengthy process, time and individual perception work together to determine the final presentation of the artwork.Many times, what Bu Yunjun does is layer by layer covering—first establishing the basic form of the object, then the second pass, the third pass, and so on until the entire background is brushed into ink. At the beginning of the "Untitled-Flower" series, the image had not completely filled the entire canvas; there were still empty spaces and elements of freehand style. During this exploratory phase, Bu Yunjun had not completely broken free from the accumulated thousand-year tradition of Chinese ink painting. However, some personal approaches were already evident. For instance, in the early "Untitled-Flower," he would sometimes incorporate meaningless words, tearing open more free space between specific images and written symbols, while also mocking and ridiculing the traditional notion of "poetry and painting."As his creative approach gradually clarified, in the latest "Untitled-Flower" creations, Bu Yunjun began to adjust the compositions. For example, he shifted from working based on a single image to creating collages from multiple images, gradually filling the canvas with intertwined branches and blossoms. He increased the size of the canvas, ensuring the object was not entirely "within view," allowing the intervention and disturbance of light on the object to be showcased, displaying the dynamism of observation itself. Finally, Bu Yunjun would let a pool of ink linger abruptly and dry within the nearly completed painting, as if creating an anchor to firmly fix the image from the two-dimensional plane into our three-dimensional world; like a scar or a black hole, deeply pulling the viewer inward.In fact, this deliberate concealment of images had already appeared in his earlier photography works, where he often treated two-dimensional images as the objects themselves, either radically cropping them or allowing them to exist in a tangible manner. In his view, perhaps only by disrupting the familiar images in the viewer's mind would his unique elements truly emerge. Transitioning from photography to painting, Bu Yunjun no longer passively waited for the subtle moments between light and objects. Instead, he actively immersed himself in the image, starting from realism. Through extensive work over time, he gradually wore away the realism of the object itself, while also documenting the traces of time in the artwork, ultimately transforming the painting into a fusion of objective and subjective perception/fabric.Similar to the "Untitled-Flower" series, the images in the "Untitled" series created with oil pastels also come from casual snapshots with a mobile phone. The two works showcased in the "Elephant" exhibition are based on photographs of the studio's cloth curtains. Regarding these materials themselves, there is nothing particularly distinctive. The focus lies in Bu Yunjun's discovery that when using oil pastels on paper, the strokes would leave some dashed-like gaps within the brushstrokes. For Bu Yunjun, this discovery signifies a new possibility in the direction of "resisting the image"—allowing natural cracks to appear without destructuring the structural integrity of the specific image itself.Just as a line from Cohen's song goes, "There is a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in." For Bu Yunjun, the appearance of these voids is like discovering a new continent. The works created with oil pastels won't faithfully replicate like photography, meaning he has gained new freedom departing from realism. Consequently, although Bu Yunjun "recreates" these image materials, the images themselves have countless "cracks", and through these cracks, time automatically introduces its inner perception.Thus, on the two-dimensional plane of painting, the image itself exists in a shifting and floating state: sometimes emerging as a concrete object as a whole, at times sinking within it, leaving only minute details, showcasing the rich relationship between light and objects. The viewer's gaze moves with the strokes, traversing between the black and its cracks. The cloth curtain seems to be infinitely magnified, light disintegrates into countless tiny particles, and eventually becomes a kind of entity. Under the viewer's gaze, the details of the image entangle with the viewer's gaze, akin to the entanglement described by quantum mechanics: light, gaze, object, emotions... interact with each other on an extremely microscopic dimension, ultimately synthesized into an overall property. This gives rise to the ambiguous and rich relationship between content and concept.From his photography series to his current paintings, Bu Yunjun's work is a continual exercise in subtraction of forms. It's within this subtraction that we glimpse the depth of the artist's exploration in his creations. First, in photography, he subtracted the theme and narrative, placing the image itself at the critical threshold of "visible and invisible." The objects his perceptions attach to are not so much concrete objects as the marginal elements around the image: a reflection, a crease, a shadow, or a tremor. When transitioning to painting, Bu Yunjun's use of traditional painting materials like ink and oil pastels similarly disregards their consistent forms. He subtracted the traditional ink divisions and the realism of oil pastels, challenging the legitimacy of the specific image based on the characteristics of the material itself.Until the creation of "Untitled" on wooden canvas, the most fundamental forms no longer exist. In the "Untitled" series, Bu Yunjun treats artworks in museums as models for portrait paintings. However, he is not concerned with a specific image, but rather the impression the artwork gives him, retaining the classical frame as a hint of the artwork's origin. Bu Yunjun then uses the reflection of ink to recreate the impression classical oil paintings have on him. He applies layers of ink on the wooden canvas, then polishes away the surface roughness until the artwork exhibits a semi-mirrored effect.Once the specific image is completely subtracted, the "irrelevant" details in the picture become the sole actors on the stage: the blurred reflections, marks left by polishing, gaps between fibers, or an inexplicable reflection... The image's subject as a "face" disappears, replaced by ambiguous details that temporarily linger in the suspension. The artwork becomes an "unknown entity" based on hidden experiences. Bu Yunjun's work is about capturing these "unknown entities" again from the shattered void of the image through momentary sensations, prolonged contemplation, and exploration. Therefore, only when we look beyond the theoretical endorsed mechanisms of perception, allowing feelings to truly delve into the microscopic, becoming particles entering the cracks of the image and resonating with it, can we see absolute clarity in Bu Yunjun's "ambiguous and vague" works.关于艺术家
卜云军
1982出生于四川
毕业于西南交通大学艺术学院
现工作生活于北京