Look at the character “旦”—how peculiar it seems. It appears as though the sun is rising over a mountain, doesn’t it? Yet it also takes on a human form, doesn’t it? It somewhat resembles the pottery pattern of a human face holding a fish, which already involves a form of depiction. There is also a poem by Cui Hu: “On this day last year, within this very door, / Her face and peach blossoms mirrored each other’s glow. / Where has the face gone, that today I miss so? / The peach blossoms still smile in the spring breeze.” You’re all familiar with this, right? Which is imagery, and which is symbol? There are dual symbols here—do you see? One is the peach blossom. What does the peach blossom refer to? As one student just mentioned, that is the symbol of the peach blossom—it symbolizes emotion, symbolizes chance encounters, you see? Even today we still refer to romantic scandals as “peach blossom events,” don’t we? This peach blossom is not that peach blossom; that peach blossom is not this one—it carries specific symbolism and direction. “Her face and peach blossoms mirrored each other’s glow”—isn’t that an example of intertextuality? There, the layering of symbols emerges.
So, when you engage with this kind of understanding—whether visiting an exhibition, observing a painting, or viewing art of any style—if you place it within an aesthetic context, within a system of symbolic usage, within its proper framework, your comprehension, your aesthetic understanding, begins. This prevents aesthetic convergence or stagnation. Therefore, annotating and reflecting on this is truly fascinating.
发表回复
要发表评论，您必须先登录。