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都說親愛的,親愛永遠。

 
 
 

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WITHOUT ME IN HIS JOURNEY  

2009-06-23 08:00:00|  分类: 未分类 |  标签: |举报 |字号 订阅

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感謝我們的BENNY師兄。在此之前,我不敢想象將我那篇充斥著自言自囈,充斥著暗號和切口的極度私人的文章,被翻譯成英文會是怎么樣的奇形怪狀,言不由衷。不過,似乎一切都未能難倒我們了不起的BENNY師兄,盡管他不得不在“喬峰”后面括號加上令人微笑的注解。盡管,他居然說我是BILLIE HOLIDAY。抑或是SADE。

WITHOUT ME IN HIS JOURNEY
By Justine Woo

Not long ago, when I watched these “private landscape” on a huge projection screen for the first time, those photos that seen on computer screen many times before have never made me feel great like this time. If one’s character of photographing is various from each other, just like different personalities, those photos are no doubt taken with a grand vision, shared by the photographer himself.

Farn always says his dream is to travel around the world. For years, he’s been walking and carrying that dream in a heavy manner. Each time every new place he arrived brought him new recognition to this world. I may realize, the formation of his value must have tight connection with those walking. Of course, there are also many people went through all the continents and oceans, but with their hearts trapped in a small village. On the contrast, Farn always make himself a little bit ahead his journey. His journeys are filled with hurry work, lonely walking, soar admiring, yet without me.

Dec. 2006, he tripped to eastern China with pack by his own. The West Lake of that winter was ambiguous, sorts of erotic and lost. That wasn’t him.

2007, he passed me by many times, into Hong Kong that quite near my place, with all kinds of ladies. His camera was therefore naughty and full of affections.

Nov. 2007, by the night sea of Boracay Island of Philippine, on the soft and tender beach under white moonlight, for the first time he hope joining hands with a woman together, standing in the warm tropical water. For the first time he flied over my head, however I still don’t know who that woman he hoped is.

Dec. 2007, he spent the New Year’s Eve in a city of no plain roads, taking a shoot of Jialing River in mist with probably wonderful yet uncertain fantasy. He said he loved that city and the city jungle it constructs.

Jan. 2008, he came through the city where I grew up, dragging suitcase from the fringe of a city to that of another in an exhausted manner. Hiking alongside the seashore, he said the city was a ruined beauty. Perhaps it’s mainly because the female model that time blossomed like a decadent opium poppy in his camera.

In the same month he found another “Gangnam Dae Ro” (same name in Chinese as “Jiangnan Avenue” in Canton) in Seoul but without “silver knife” (same name as one traditional Korean ornament).Both side of the avenue is weaved with hard lines and withered twigs covered that busy avenue with lonesome winter feeling.

Apr. 2008, the last snowfall of Europe in that quarter brought him high fever alone in Germany and turned him in love with aspirin. “An aspirin a day, while she’s away.” By the road side of Heidelberg, he recorded that day’s change in appearance with Ultrawide-angle lens. The hue was so outstanding that he used black and white to slice a moment of solemn. After half a month, I also walked through that old corner and stayed with my same humble Canon 17-40L. On that April, Notre Dame was also the one we “both” passed by.

July 2008, we went to Hong Kong for emergency visa to Canada. The week that we spent in Kowloon City, though was just ordinary earthly life, can be regarded as the only “journey” by us. The he headed for Canada to enjoy waves of glacier and immense lake. The cities in North America, in his words, are too modern, boring and nevertheless gifted with abundant gorgeous mountains and tender rivers.

Apr. 2009, he was located in Chiang Mai, hometown of Thaksin Shinawatra when Red-shirt Protesters were producing chaos in Bangkok. It was at the moment a peaceful place, with modest folk culture, golden rice field and a young lady on top of Land Rover looking pretty with tender eyes and typical good-wife look. He wrote me an article about Red-shirt Protesters, insisting to use the pen name “Qiao Feng” (Male character in Jin Yong’s "The Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils", a female character of which is A Zhu, also the pen name of the author of this foreword).

In the past, I’m not particularly fond of the photos taken in his journey because there is nobody there at all. Fluid sands’ texture like silk in black and white; red car is so eye-catching that it make the snow mountain above fade; Champs-Elysees at night is twinkling, while Triumphal Arch is out of brightness and all the lights keep silence like being frizzed in the mystery age of silent film. Such kind of silence is probably because the loss of words of photographer – it is not really loss but not enough words for him to express the feeling towards the magnificent view in front of him. What remains is the no-man picture recorded by the camera. The photographer firmly believes the reality of such kind and re-visualizes that reality he has seen. Maybe it reflects the objective appearance; however every one photo stands with dozens of backups behind it.

From the clear color photos, to the on-purpose coarse grain black and white, even in the rich joyful moment of his works, I can still perceive the solid loneness. Perhaps feelings differ depending on various people’s context with each others. Until I saw those photos on the big projection screen, those cities he have measured, somehow took my breath away in a sudden. That kind of grand vision of silence and solemn can be taken only with an enormous sense of rites.

At the end, it’s a pity that not many texts written by Farn are shown in this book. He is quite a wonderful man for that his photo, text, mind and personality are extraordinarily unified – his text is written with grand vision too. I wish to present all the sincere greeting, though that vision is without me.

June 12, 2009. Canton

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