廣東話•谷雨行動 •Cantonese•
GUYU ACTION 2025
[行動時空筆記]在藝術村旁的廢墟，三層建築，沒有門也沒有窗，中庭有天井，房間很多迴音很大，第一次勘察場地時便直覺選二樓的位置。前置21個白色線球在裙擺內，靜默良久，一𣊬間全部拋到樓下，如像黑暗中的蜘蛛絲，一邊講廣東話，一邊把線回收，越喊越大聲，聲線迴盪在空氣中，俯身雙手撐地，聲嘶力竭地作最一聲長的呼喊，起來後把香港製造的鼓油打破在纏繞的白線上，香氣四溢。觀眾問：「你在喊的是什麼意思呀？」對話在終結時打開。
[行動物料]21個白線球，廣東話，豉油，卡其色露背百褶裙
[谷雨行為藝術節歷史]谷雨行動（Guyu Action）始於2007年4月的西安，最初是作為「中國當代行為藝術城市聯合展演」和「國際行為藝術節」的結合。 該藝術節已在西安、北京、上海、南昌、臨汾、魁北克等地成功舉辦了多屆，並有近千位國內外藝術家參與，是中國最具活力的國際行為藝術和現場藝術平台之一。
[西安日常觀察]古城，每晚聚餐，大排筵席，如像喜宴，食物酒水源源不絕；那晚臨時加入的噪音即興演出，謝謝阿科，很好玩；想不到的話題浮現，關於生命、生活、創作、物料、文字、困局、喜悅、連結、共嗚、擁抱、文化差異等等，新知舊雨相聚很有趣，很開心再次見到凌飛、艾筱、小龍、秋歌、彥超、毅哲、孝齊；感謝谷雨行動籌辦的所有人，行為節不容易，讓我思考很多的八天。P.S.感謝與溫柔又細心的暢同行
[谷雨文字節錄] (謝謝你們的文字)
黃彥超撰文
「卦山力藝術季」-美少女集合 認識彭靖，在金瓜石場我們選擇的場地就在旁邊，這一回我們重疊西安谷雨行動的廢墟場域，她做了一個命題-廣東話的行為。對比金瓜石的行為，像是跳針到不同場域與文化空間，採取-不同 但是卻又有某種雷同之處，且付諸-行動的姿態，兩次重疊之俯視著與凝望者的互視，別有一種登高一呼的權利姿態。彭靖很會選曲一個場域的中央，彷彿是空間的心臟，是一個停留、卻又似空間的靈媒立於一尊，然後採取一個似可-呼風喚雨的召喚術。（巫性）彷彿要把整個空間扭曲分離且攪動在一起，像是有閃爍的光不停的照射。且拿著一把無形的大刀..空間彷彿被碎裂化了（像是破碎的鏡面）一片又一片的貼黏想要貼黏回去，卻又無法還原，彷彿進入一個蟲洞。持續不停的翻攪、翻攪、再翻攪著…試圖挖掘著一點什麼？那個空缺除了她做為一個操縱著看不見的偶，有一個看不到的巨大虛空的魂魄。讓我們可以在那些晃動著的線被鬆綁的狀態進入對位，彷彿沒有人是真正的局外人。她這一次的行為來自於一個廣東話口音偏誤的「諧音梗」，像是很認真的運作一個急需掉入其中的陷阱，也像是夾娃娃機台的爪子。一種反客體化為主體主宰及試圖-吞噬..，連續在不同地方看她很直觀的運作，從上回像是在綠樹叢中硬是來了紅色的濾鏡遮蔽、到這次的降臨此處感，都形成強烈的視觸經驗，也表明暗示了更多不在場的空間，進入且縫補。這個偏誤的諧音廣東話就留給現場。
白村撰文(節錄)紅的發火焰般燃燒，紅的澎湃、紅的激情，紅紅的主人也定當烈焰如火、激情澎湃。一滴紅落在天地間，天地生色奪目。人群裡，紅的鮮明，紅的熱烈，如枝頭懸立的蜻蜓，總讓人側目以待，青睞有加。廣袤的沙漠、無垠的草原，甚至洶湧的人潮，鮮豔的紅讓平淡不再平凡，突兀而起，精神振奮。紅的髮辮、紅的妝容、紅的長衣，翩然而至，猶如仙女臨塵。她吶喊著—南中國的廣東話—清亮激越，鏗鏗鏘鏗鏘。三秦土地上長著怒吼的秦腔、厚重低沉的關中音，清凌凌的廣東話聽著像天籟之音，雖不懂，卻優美。她依然如故，張開雙臂，雙手盤旋，婦人紡紗織布般一起一伏，白白的長長的柔軟的絲線一層層裹住手，裹著鳥翼樣的雙臂，她拉扯著，吶喊著，掙脫千年，掙扎不屈。白白的絲線逆流而上，漸漸的纏繞上她的臂、腰、腿，乃至全身。白繭化蝶，破繭奮飛，追光自由，這是我的想像，她卻在我的想像之外，盤絲洞裡最美的紅髮姑娘盤繞許久，漸漸的結絲成團，置團眼前。去了絲線，沒了束縛，手舞足蹈，自由自在。然後畢恭畢敬的、一點一滴倒上液體，灰黑色的液體蟲兒吃草般啃食著滲透進白雪般的絲線。雙膝跪地，俯仰天地，滿目虔誠，張開雙臂，俯拜久久。廢墟之上，升騰起凝固的寧靜。她在飛，飛翔在灰色的村落、紅色的髮辮，雲端之巔，眾人頭頂。眾人仰望，痴迷而迷茫，茫然卻堅毅。
Photo & Video Credit:石頭 相西石 Xiang Xishi（西安 Xi'an）竹田聖一Ken-ichi Takeda（日本 Japan荒井真一ARAI Shin-ichi（日本 Japan）橋本近Takumi-chan（日本 Japan）湯暢盈Tavin（香港 Hong Kong）陳孝齊Chen Xiaoqi（台灣 Taiwan）彥超Jonathan Huang（台灣 Taiwan）蒼鑫 Cang Xin（北京 Beijing）孫海東 Sun Haidong（北京 Beijing）李艾筱 Li Aixiao（成都 Chengdu）阿科 Ake（北京 Beijing）尹小龍 Yin Xiaolong（深圳 Shenzhen）聽話 Ting Hua（西安 Xi'an）李凌飛 Li Lingfei（西安 Xi'an）何理 He Li（西安 Xi'an）蘇佰威 Su Baiwei（西安 Xi'an）張喜斌 Zhang Xibin（西安 Xi'an）王盼&劉夢文&火樂 Wang Pan&Liu Mengwen&Huo Le（西安 Xi'an）武軍龍&陳秋歌 Wu Junlong&Chen Qiuge（西安Xi'an）劉一然 Liu Yiran（西安 Xi'an）Danial
[P.S. 如有人未被credit，請DM我，謝]
Cantonese • GUYU ACTION • 2025
[Action Space-Time Notes]At the ruins beside the art village, a three-story building with no doors or windows, a courtyard open to the sky, many rooms echo loudly. Upon first scouting the site, I instinctively chose a spot on the second floor. Twenty-one white balls of thread were placed inside the skirt hem, silently resting for a long time, then suddenly all thrown down to the floor below, like spider silk in the dark. Speaking Cantonese, while retrieving the threads, the voice grew louder and louder, the tone reverberated in the air. Bent over with both hands on the ground, she gave a hoarse, exhausted, long final shout. Rising up, she broke a bottle of soy sauce made in Hong Kong over the entwined white threads, releasing a fragrant aroma. An audience member asked, “What are you shouting about?” The dialogue opened at the end.
[Action Materials]21 white balls of thread, Cantonese, soy sauce, khaki-colored backless pleated skirt
[History of the Guyu Performance Art Festival] Guyu Action began in Xi’an in April 2007, initially merging the "China Contemporary Performance Art City Joint Show" and the "International Performance Art Festival." The festival has been successfully held multiple times in cities including Xi’an, Beijing, Shanghai, Nanchang, Linfen, and Quebec, with nearly a thousand domestic and international artists participating. It is one of China’s most dynamic international platforms for performance and live art.
[Xi’an Daily Observations]In the ancient city, nightly gatherings with large banquets like wedding feasts, food and drinks flowing endlessly; that night’s impromptu noise performance was thanks to Ake—very fun. Unexpected topics emerged: life, living, creation, materials, words, dilemmas, joy, connection, resonance, embrace, cultural differences, and so on. Meeting old and new friends was interesting and joyful; happy to see Ling Fei, Ai Xiao, Xiao Long, Qiu Ge, Yan Chao, Yi Zhe, and Xiao Qi again. Thanks to everyone organizing Guyu Action. Performance festivals are not easy, making me contemplate a lot over these eight days. P.S. Thanks to my gentle and attentive companion.
[Excerpt from Guyu Texts] (Thanks for your writings)
By Huang Yanchao
“Guashanli Art Season” — Beautiful Girls Assemble Meeting Peng Jing, our chosen site in Jinguashi was right beside us. This time, we overlapped the ruins site of Xi’an’s Guyu Action. She created a theme—performance in Cantonese. Compared to the performances in Jinguashi, it felt like a skipping needle jumping between different spaces and cultural realms, adopting different yet somehow similar gestures of action. The dual overlapping perspectives of looking down and gazing create a unique posture of authority like a call from a height.Peng Jing is skilled at selecting the center of a space, as if it is the heart of the place, a pause, yet also a spiritual medium standing like a statue, then performing a kind of summoning that seems able to call the wind and rain. (A shamanistic quality)It’s as if the entire space is being twisted, separated, and stirred together, like flickering light constantly shining. Holding an invisible big knife... the space seems shattered—like broken mirror shards—pieces pasted back together but unable to restore, as if entering a wormhole.Continuously stirring, stirring, and stirring again... Trying to excavate something? That void, besides her being a puppeteer manipulating the unseen, contains an invisible, vast empty soul. It allows us to enter a dialogue in the state of the loosening, swaying threads, as if no one is truly an outsider.Her performance this time stems from a “homophonic pun” born of a Cantonese accent slip, like seriously operating a trap one urgently needs to fall into, also like the claw of a claw machine. A kind of inversion where the object becomes subject, dominating and trying to devour... Watching her operate so intuitively in different places—from last time’s red filter forced onto green foliage, to this arrival—forms a strong visual and tactile experience, implying more absent spaces to penetrate and mend.This misheard homophonic Cantonese is left for the現場 (the現場 means "on-site" or "live audience").
Written by Bai CunRed burns like a flame—red surging, red passion. The owner of this red must surely be ablaze with fiery passion. A single drop of red falls between heaven and earth, and the world instantly becomes dazzlingly vibrant. Among the crowd, red stands out vividly, passionately—like a dragonfly perched on a branch, always drawing admiring glances and favor. The vast desert, the endless grassland, even the surging crowds—vivid red turns the ordinary into the extraordinary, suddenly rising and invigorating the spirit. Red braids, red makeup, red robes flutter gracefully, like a fairy descending to the mortal world.She shouts—in Cantonese of South China—clear, intense, resonant. On the land of Sanqin grow the roaring Qin opera and the deep Guanzhong dialect, but the pure, clear Cantonese sounds like heavenly music—beautiful even if not understood. She remains as ever, opening her arms, her hands swirling like a woman spinning yarn and weaving cloth, the long, soft white silk thread wrapping layer upon layer around her hands and bird-wing-like arms. She pulls and shouts, breaking free from a thousand years, struggling unyieldingly. The white silk threads flow upward, gradually winding around her arms, waist, legs, and entire body. White cocoon turns butterfly, breaking free and flying, chasing light and freedom—this is my imagination, yet she is beyond it. The most beautiful red-haired girl in the silk web cave coils for a long time, gradually forming a ball of thread, placing it before her eyes. Without the threads, no restraints remain, she dances freely. Then, reverently, drops of liquid are poured—gray-black liquid, with worm-like creatures nibbling and permeating the snow-white threads. Kneeling on both knees, bowing to heaven and earth, eyes full of reverence, arms open wide, bowing deeply for a long time.Above the ruins, a frozen silence rises. She flies, soaring over gray villages and red braids, on the cloud summit above everyone’s heads. The crowd looks up, fascinated and confused, bewildered yet resolute.