賽博劇場計劃
CYBER THEATRE PROJECT
「賽博劇場計劃」是幽靈、玩偶和病毒對「現實」的復仇。「花園中的妹妹與幽靈友好地交談。」出自詩人特拉克爾的詩句，花園（人造盆景—玩偶）、妹妹（體弱多病—病毒）和幽靈，以自身的虛擬性（脆弱感）確證「現實」的虛擬性和「螢幕」的泛在。這些螢幕在諸種媒介生產的現實版本之間[內測（Alpha）和發佈候選（Release Candidate）之間]，獲得了德裏達解讀「處女膜」的含義——一種不確定介面，「賽博劇場計劃」正在該介面（螢幕）的吞噬和溢出的擠壓過程中，試圖成為「測試（Beta）性」的。
“Cyber Theatre Project” is the revenge of the ghost, doll and virus on the “reality”. The sentence “the sister in the garden talked with ghosts in a friendly manner” comes from a verse of a poet named Trakl. The garden (artificial bonsai-doll), sister (frail-virus) and ghosts confirm the virtuality of the “reality” and ubiquitous existence of the “screen” with their own virtuality (fragile feelings). These screens are between the reality versions produced by various media (between Alpha and Release Candidate), and obtained the meaning of Derrida’s interpretation of the “hymen”—an uncertain interface. “Cyber Theatre Project” is trying to become “beta” in the squeezing process of being swallowed by and overflowing from the interface (screen).
“Cyber Theatre Project” is the revenge of the ghost, doll and virus on the “reality”. The sentence “the sister in the garden talked with ghosts in a friendly manner” comes from a verse of a poet named Trakl. The garden (artificial bonsai-doll), sister (frail-virus) and ghosts confirm the virtuality of the “reality” and ubiquitous existence of the “screen” with their own virtuality (fragile feelings). These screens are between the reality versions produced by various media (between Alpha and Release Candidate), and obtained the meaning of Derrida’s interpretation of the “hymen”—an uncertain interface. “Cyber Theatre Project” is trying to become “beta” in the squeezing process of being swallowed by and overflowing from the interface (screen).
Speed Show：漂流網咖
Speed Show: Drift Internet Cafe
《Speed Show：漂流網咖》是「賽博劇場計劃」的第一個作品。它徵集具有禦宅族、網癮少年、賽博少數民族等特徵的人群，僅憑著在網絡上浪漫的「邀約」，於特定日期的淩晨相聚到某網咖。
淩晨0:00，如果你也不想回家，就跟我去網咖。
你可以把它當做派對、野餐、離家出走、表白的機會、夜晚遠足的終點。
從這個現實生活中消失，反正，也沒有人會注意的吧。
在押見修造所著的漫畫《漂流網咖》中，主人公在常去的網咖遇見了國中時代的初戀女友，此時外面正下著傾盆大雨，逼不得已之下的他們在網咖渡過了一夜。隔日，雨停了，他們走出網咖，展現在他們眼前的卻是一個異世界。
究竟是返回瑣碎庸俗的現實生活，還是與記憶和幻想中的初戀女友永遠沉溺於荒謬的虛擬大陸？漫畫《漂流網咖》提出的是一個類似哈姆雷特「to be or not to be」的問題，網咖這樣的場所作為兩種現實的交界地帶，人的一半已在熒幕裏，另一半還在熒幕外。
2016年8月21日，共有四十五人赴約聚集到北京東四的「好風景」網咖。表演分成兩個部分，第一部分是0:00至6:00「聚眾上網」，每一臺電腦都安裝了錄屏軟件，昔日臥室般私密的熒幕（既是原子的也是比特的）變成敞開的劇場；第二部分是6:00至18:00光天化日下的「幽靈網咖」，清晨隨陽光蒸發的表演者留下他們的蹤迹——熒幕複播的操作記錄，耳麥殘留的囈語、咳嗽、打盹，以及熒幕外面的飲料瓶、零食、貼紙、玩具、口紅印。空置的四十五張椅子前，四十五臺電腦看起來像在自主運轉，熒幕擬造了四十五個「有意識的電腦」的鬧鬼現場。而仔細凝視每個熒幕裡面細微的操作，包括滑鼠的拖曳、打字的速度、光標的閃爍（有如臺詞沉默的間隙），不同於《活死人黎明》的僵屍，它們像是肉身缺席的「死活人」。
傍晚18:00，網咖的四十五臺電腦因為「所剩餘額零元」依次被網咖管理員關閉，蹤迹蕩然無存，像謝幕一般依次黑屏，對於我們這些駐留在網咖中的人來說，夜晚那些表演者才徹底從現實生活中消失，永久地漂流在不可見的異世界。
“Speed Show: Drift Internet Cafe” is the first work of “Cyber Theatre Project”. It called for people with characteristics like otaku, Internet addiction, and cyber minority. They gathered at an Internet cafe in the wee hours on a certain date just by romantic “invitation” on the network.
At 0:00 in the morning, if you also do not want to go home, just come on with me to the Internet cafe. You can take it as a party, a picnic, an opportunity to confess love or an endpoint of your night hiking. Disappear from the real life; anyway, no one will care.
In the manga “Drift Internet Cafe” created by Oshimi Shuzo, the protagonist met his first love of the middle ages at the frequent Internet cafe, when there was a downpour outside. They were compelled to spend the night at the Internet cafe. The next day, the rain stopped and they walked out of the Internet cafe, a different world opened up in front of them.
To return to the trivial and vulgar real life, or to indulge in the ridiculous virtual world with first love in memory and fantasy? The manga “Drift Internet Cafe” put forward a question like “to be or not to be”. The Internet cafe, as a boundary between two realities, provide a place for people to be half on the screen and half outside the curtain.
On August 21, 2016, a total of 45 people kept appointments and gathered at the Haofengjing Internet Cafe in Beijing Dongsi. The show was divided into two parts. The first part “gather together for surfing on line” was from 0:00 to 6:00. Each computer was equipped with screen recording software, thus transforming the private screen as bedroom to open theatre. The second part “spooky Internet cafe in broad daylight” was from 6:00 to 18:00. The performers who evaporated with the sunlight in the morning left behind their tracks—replayed operation record on the screen, residual raving, cough and snoring from the headset, and drink bottles, snacks, stickers, toys, lipsticks outside the screen. In front of 45 unoccupied chairs, 45 computers seemed to operate autonomously, creating a “haunted scene” with 45 “conscious computers”. By carefully gazing at the subtle operations on each screen, including the drag of the mouse, the speed of typing, the blinking of the cursor (like silent interval between the lines), you could find they were like “dead living man” without fresh different from the zombies in “Dawn of the Dead”.
At 18:00 in the evening, the webmaster successively shut down the computers due to “zero balance of the accounts”. The screen of computers successively turned black like curtain falling with no trace left behind. For us who stayed in the Internet cafe, those performers at night disappeared completely from real life and drifted permanently in an invisible different world.
空愛①場
Love’s Labour’s Love
「賽博劇場計劃」的第二個作品《空愛①場》中，兩個女孩首先在眾人注視下用近二十分鐘將淘寶買來的商品盈滿閨房，這場「誇富宴」的原產地來自中國的廉價工廠，卻充滿了「异域情調」——一種「無國籍」的混合現實，它們無異於在QQ空間（Qzone）中用虛擬貨幣購買的虛擬裝潢——為自己的舞臺添置道具。曾經，女孩們喜歡把網絡上面的私人空間當作閨房般裝潢，以恭候他人隨時隨地的訪問，而今隨著直播軟件的氾濫，監視器使現實的閨房反被當作恭候陌生人觀光的虛擬場景，置身其中的女孩們也變成了被各種增強現實環繞的玩偶（目光下的祭品）。
K歌是直播間中最常見的表演，播放機清單的迴圈曲目營造著無時無刻墜入愛河的浪漫背景，從《愛你》、《戀愛大過天》到《Heartbeats》，戀愛、分手皆在荧幕裏，看不見的虛擬戀人從窗外爬進來，攜帶手機和電腦荧幕的星星、月亮，「宅在家裡」就是戀上荧幕、宅在荧幕裏。
結尾引用了幾個文學文字，巴勃羅·聶魯達的愛情詩：「我們甚至遺失了暮色。沒有人看見我們今晚手牽手，而藍色的夜落在世上。」和莎士比亞的劇作《空愛一場》中出現的酷似亂碼一般的超長英文單詞「Honorificabilitudinitatibus」（不勝光榮），將它們與「藍屏」（電腦的死亡意象）重合。使用《小馬寶莉》的動畫片呼應了田納西·威廉士《玻璃動物園》中的「獨角獸」，也是宅女羅拉自我鏡像的化身，因身體缺陷攜帶的義肢就像獨角獸天生區別於普通馬的角，在對新生主體的自我認同感誕生之前，它反而成了自卑的根源。
《空愛①場》於2017年受邀東京國際劇場藝術節（Festival/Tokyo），真實的富士山脚下是電腦桌面被粉色晚霞過濾的夢中富士山，終日生活在「异域他鄉」的女孩們攜帶她們的「墮落部屋」（源於日本某偶像團體對女生宿舍「壯觀」場面的形容）降臨六本木的地下舞臺卻猶在荧幕中，她們既不屬於這裡也不屬於那裡，她們是鏡中殘像，是沒有版權的仿冒品。
In the second work of “Cyber Theatre Project”—“Love’s Labour’s Love”, firstly, two girls spent almost twenty minutes to fill their boudoirs with the goods bought from Taobao under the public gaze. This “potlatch” came from cheap factories in China, but it was full of “exotic atmosphere”—a “stateless” mixed reality, which was tantamount to virtual decorations bought with virtual currency in Qzone—to add props for their own stages. At one point, girls liked to decorate their private spaces online as boudoirs, waiting for the visit from others at any time and any place. Nowadays, with the overflow of live-streaming software, the monitor has made the real boudoir a virtual scene waiting for strangers’ sightseeing. The girls inside have also become dolls surrounded by various augmented reality (the offerings under the eyes).
Karaoke is the most common show in live-streaming room. The looping tracks of the player list create a romantic background that one can fall in love all the time, from “Loving you”, “Love, Bigger than the Sky” to “Heartbeats”. Love and break-up are all in the screen, the invisible virtual lovers climb in from the window, carrying the stars and moon of the mobile phone and the computer screen. “Staying at home” means falling in love with the screen and staying in the screen.
The ending quotes several literary texts: Pablo Neruda’s love poems--we have lost even this twilight. No one saw us this evening hand in hand, while the blue night dropped on the world, and the overlong English word “Honorificabilitudinitatibus” (glory) like messy code appeared in Shakespeare’s play “Love’s Labour’s Lost”, which coincides with “Blue Screen” (the death image of the computer). The use of the cartoon “My Little Pony” echoes the “unicorn” in “The Glass Menagerie” created by Tennessee Williams. It is also the embodiment of the self-image of the house girl Lola. The carried prosthesis due to a physical defect was like the horn of the unicorn different from other horns, which became the root of inferiority before the birth of the self-identity of the new subject.
“Love’s Labour’s Lost” was invited to attend Festival/Tokyo (F/T) in 2017. The foot of the real Mount Fuji was the Mount Fuji in the dream, where the computer desktop was filtered by the pink sunset. The girls who all day long lived in “exotic homes” carried their “daraku room” (originated from a Japanese idol group’s description on the “magnificent” scene of the female dormitory) arrived at the underground stage of Roppongi and were still in the screen. They did not belong here or there, they were the afterimages in the mirror, and the counterfeit goods without copyright.
結尾引用了幾個文學文字，巴勃羅·聶魯達的愛情詩：「我們甚至遺失了暮色。沒有人看見我們今晚手牽手，而藍色的夜落在世上。」和莎士比亞的劇作《空愛一場》中出現的酷似亂碼一般的超長英文單詞「Honorificabilitudinitatibus」（不勝光榮），將它們與「藍屏」（電腦的死亡意象）重合。使用《小馬寶莉》的動畫片呼應了田納西·威廉士《玻璃動物園》中的「獨角獸」，也是宅女羅拉自我鏡像的化身，因身體缺陷攜帶的義肢就像獨角獸天生區別於普通馬的角，在對新生主體的自我認同感誕生之前，它反而成了自卑的根源。
《空愛①場》於2017年受邀東京國際劇場藝術節（Festival/Tokyo），真實的富士山脚下是電腦桌面被粉色晚霞過濾的夢中富士山，終日生活在「异域他鄉」的女孩們攜帶她們的「墮落部屋」（源於日本某偶像團體對女生宿舍「壯觀」場面的形容）降臨六本木的地下舞臺卻猶在荧幕中，她們既不屬於這裡也不屬於那裡，她們是鏡中殘像，是沒有版權的仿冒品。
In the second work of “Cyber Theatre Project”—“Love’s Labour’s Love”, firstly, two girls spent almost twenty minutes to fill their boudoirs with the goods bought from Taobao under the public gaze. This “potlatch” came from cheap factories in China, but it was full of “exotic atmosphere”—a “stateless” mixed reality, which was tantamount to virtual decorations bought with virtual currency in Qzone—to add props for their own stages. At one point, girls liked to decorate their private spaces online as boudoirs, waiting for the visit from others at any time and any place. Nowadays, with the overflow of live-streaming software, the monitor has made the real boudoir a virtual scene waiting for strangers’ sightseeing. The girls inside have also become dolls surrounded by various augmented reality (the offerings under the eyes).
Karaoke is the most common show in live-streaming room. The looping tracks of the player list create a romantic background that one can fall in love all the time, from “Loving you”, “Love, Bigger than the Sky” to “Heartbeats”. Love and break-up are all in the screen, the invisible virtual lovers climb in from the window, carrying the stars and moon of the mobile phone and the computer screen. “Staying at home” means falling in love with the screen and staying in the screen.
The ending quotes several literary texts: Pablo Neruda’s love poems--we have lost even this twilight. No one saw us this evening hand in hand, while the blue night dropped on the world, and the overlong English word “Honorificabilitudinitatibus” (glory) like messy code appeared in Shakespeare’s play “Love’s Labour’s Lost”, which coincides with “Blue Screen” (the death image of the computer). The use of the cartoon “My Little Pony” echoes the “unicorn” in “The Glass Menagerie” created by Tennessee Williams. It is also the embodiment of the self-image of the house girl Lola. The carried prosthesis due to a physical defect was like the horn of the unicorn different from other horns, which became the root of inferiority before the birth of the self-identity of the new subject.
“Love’s Labour’s Lost” was invited to attend Festival/Tokyo (F/T) in 2017. The foot of the real Mount Fuji was the Mount Fuji in the dream, where the computer desktop was filtered by the pink sunset. The girls who all day long lived in “exotic homes” carried their “daraku room” (originated from a Japanese idol group’s description on the “magnificent” scene of the female dormitory) arrived at the underground stage of Roppongi and were still in the screen. They did not belong here or there, they were the afterimages in the mirror, and the counterfeit goods without copyright.
這是你要的那條信息……不要讓別人看到；-）
Here Is the Message You Asked For… Don’t Tell Anyone Else ；-）
「賽博劇場計劃」的第三個作品《這是你要的那條信息……不要讓別人看到;-)》的名字來自叫「Melissa」（脫衣舞女孩）的病毒程式，從表面上看，她像熟人或朋友發來的郵件：「Here is the message you asked for…don't tell anyone else ；-）」，郵件的附件是一個Word檔案，如果收到郵件的人打開了這個檔案，病毒就會選擇通訊錄最前面的五十人將染有病毒的郵件發出，1999年她破壞了全世界的郵件系統。
以宿舍和床為起點（成長的痛也是離開床的痛），熱愛Cosplay的女孩們包裹在被投影的紗帳（胎膜、處女膜以及荧幕的隱喻）裏，將「資料庫」中的萌元素加持在身。微觀的身體動作使現場觀眾不得不凑到近處——進入宿舍，才能與網絡直播間裏的觀眾享有同等視距，構成對荧幕內的「偷窺」。由二次元誕生的萌物們（也是一種「見世物」）佔領了後排觀眾席，它們對觀眾的「反觀看」以及舞臺上的演員用手機對現場觀眾進行的「反直播」，都是對兩種互為隱喻的媒介——劇場和荧幕的述行，而使單向的偷窺和觀看變成互相偷窺和觀看，混淆荧幕的內（虛擬）與外（現實）。
現場聲音給予扁平化的生存空間一種顱內高潮般的鼓脹感，紗帳內的「超現實」隨時面臨溢出——物質形態是從床鋪上飄落到外面的黑色羽毛和雲彩。「溢出荧幕」開始於軟濡耳語，融化、刺穿包裹整個舞臺的巨大紗帳，把一種現實下載到另一種現實中，編碼的不相容性導致後者被超載、被崩潰，演出最終走向混亂和失序，且並沒有明確的終點。
上海首演後，一比特離開劇場的觀眾站在捷運站臺，懷裡抱著「鹹魚」（萌物），手背托著「白熊」（萌物），她就像「Melissa」感染的通訊錄最前面的五十人之一，壓壞荧幕液態晶體上的一個壞點，故障（解碼）遂逐漸蔓延。
《這是你要的那條信息……不要讓別人看到;-)》於2017年受邀京都國際舞臺藝術祭（Kyoto Experiment），Bilibili在「尅隆島」遇見了Niconico，掛在床位上印有2020年東京奧運會涉嫌抄襲Logo的周邊T恤以及萌化的日本二戰時期潜水艦伊58，與本人致日本觀眾的導演筆記一樣藏匿毒性。
日本的觀眾你們好，歡迎偷窺「拷貝女孩」們（Copy girls）的集體宿舍，她們是阿笙、不綠、花花、月明，也是眠眠、伊58、和泉紗霧、津島善子。她們不會日語，但頭腦裏的背景音樂是日語的；她們初次來到日本，但好像生活在這裡很久了。
以及來自中國的盜版滾球獸、妙蛙種子、殺老師們，為了來到日本只好偽裝成道具，被真空收納袋抽成果醬形狀混過海關，面色難看像難民一樣登入了這座劇場。
如果在中國上海的首演是虛擬向現實的侵入，那麼在日本京都的演出則是拷貝向其「原本」（真實？）的致敬抑或詰問。「拷貝女孩」們育成在床上，孵化在荧幕裏，沉浸於下載來的「拷貝生活」，液態晶體荧幕仿佛做著春夢的處女，好像有什麼滿滿的，即將溢出。
當她們的脚尖觸到荧幕外的世界，這裡難道就是「真實」的世界嗎？抑或是另一個「拷貝」？
終演的夜裡刮起颱風，京都上面的荧幕破碎了，雨水像啟示錄中的洪水一樣從天空溢出，上海出現在街道覆蓋液晶積水的巨大倒影中。
The name of the third work of “Cyber Theatre Project”—“Here Is the Message You Asked For… Don’t Tell Anyone Else ；-）” comes from a virus program called “Melissa” (striped girl). On the surface, she sent an email as an acquaintance or a friend: “Here is the message you asked for... don’t tell anyone else ；-）”, the attachment was a Word file. If the recipient opened up this file, the virus would choose the top 50 people in the address book to send out the virus-stained mail. In 1999, she destroyed the mail system around the world.
Taking the dormitory and the bed as the starting points (the pain of growing up is also the pain of leaving the bed), the girls who loved Cosplay were wrapped in the projected gauze (the metamorphosis of the fetal membrane, the hymen and the screen) with the cute elements in the “database”. The microscopic body movements made the audience have to get close to them—entering the dormitory, so that they could enjoy the same sight distance as the audience in live-streaming room, thus constituting a “snooping” on the screen. The cute things created in 2-dimension world (also a kind of “misemono”) occupied the rear audience, their “anti-viewing” to the audience and the “anti-live” to the audience by the actors on the stage using mobile phones were the performative of the two metaphorical media—the theatre and the screen and made one-way snooping and viewing into mutual snooping and viewing, confusing the inner (virtual) and outer (real) part of the screen.
The live sound gave a feeling of bulging like an encephalic orgasm to a flat living space, and the “surreality” in the gauze was about to overflow at any time—the physical form was black feathers and clouds falling down from the bed to the outside. The “overflowing screen” began with soft whispers, melted and pierced the huge gauze wrapping the entire stage, downloaded one reality into another, and the incompatibility of the code caused the latter to be overloaded and collapsed, leading to the chaos and disorder of the shown without clear ending.
After the premiere in Shanghai, a bit audience leaving the theatre stood on the MRT platform with a “salted fish” (cute thing) in her arms and a “white bear” (cute thing) in her hand. She was like one of the top 50 people in the address book infected by “Melissa”, and a dead pixel crushing on the liquid crystal of the screen, leading to the gradual spread of the fault (decoding).
“Here Is the Message You Asked For… Don’t Tell Anyone Else ;-)” was invited to attend Kyoto Experiment in 2017. Bilibili met Niconico on “Clone Island” and hung on the bed with the surrounding T-shirts with the 2020 Tokyo Olympics logo which was suspected of plagiarism and the cute version of the Japanese submarine Japanese submarine I-58 during WWII, which was hidden with toxicity as the director’s note to the Japanese audience.
Hello, Japanese audience, welcome to peep the collective dormitory of “copy girls” who are A Sheng, Midori and Hua Hua, also Nemurin, I-58, Izumi Sagiri and Tsushima Yoshiko. They can’t speak Japanese, but the background music in their heads is Japanese; it is their first time to Japan, but it seems they have lived here for a long time.
In order to come to Japan, pirated Koromon, Bulbasaur and Korosensei from China had to disguise themselves as props, and were vacuumed into a jam shape to cheat the customs. They entered the theatre like refugees.
If the premiere in Shanghai was a virtual invasion of reality, the performance in Tokyo is the solution or question from the copy to the original (real?). “Copy girls” were bred on the bed, hatched on the screen, immersed in the downloaded “copy life”. The liquid crystal screen seemed to be the virgin who thought about sex in dreams, and there was full of something being about to overflow.
Is it a “real” world when their toes touch the world outside the screen? Or is it another “copy”?
At the end of the final night, the typhoon was blown up. The screen above Kyoto was broken. The rain overflowed from the sky like the flood in Revelation. Shanghai appeared in the huge reflection of the street covered with liquid crystal water.
現場聲音給予扁平化的生存空間一種顱內高潮般的鼓脹感，紗帳內的「超現實」隨時面臨溢出——物質形態是從床鋪上飄落到外面的黑色羽毛和雲彩。「溢出荧幕」開始於軟濡耳語，融化、刺穿包裹整個舞臺的巨大紗帳，把一種現實下載到另一種現實中，編碼的不相容性導致後者被超載、被崩潰，演出最終走向混亂和失序，且並沒有明確的終點。
上海首演後，一比特離開劇場的觀眾站在捷運站臺，懷裡抱著「鹹魚」（萌物），手背托著「白熊」（萌物），她就像「Melissa」感染的通訊錄最前面的五十人之一，壓壞荧幕液態晶體上的一個壞點，故障（解碼）遂逐漸蔓延。
《這是你要的那條信息……不要讓別人看到;-)》於2017年受邀京都國際舞臺藝術祭（Kyoto Experiment），Bilibili在「尅隆島」遇見了Niconico，掛在床位上印有2020年東京奧運會涉嫌抄襲Logo的周邊T恤以及萌化的日本二戰時期潜水艦伊58，與本人致日本觀眾的導演筆記一樣藏匿毒性。
日本的觀眾你們好，歡迎偷窺「拷貝女孩」們（Copy girls）的集體宿舍，她們是阿笙、不綠、花花、月明，也是眠眠、伊58、和泉紗霧、津島善子。她們不會日語，但頭腦裏的背景音樂是日語的；她們初次來到日本，但好像生活在這裡很久了。
以及來自中國的盜版滾球獸、妙蛙種子、殺老師們，為了來到日本只好偽裝成道具，被真空收納袋抽成果醬形狀混過海關，面色難看像難民一樣登入了這座劇場。
如果在中國上海的首演是虛擬向現實的侵入，那麼在日本京都的演出則是拷貝向其「原本」（真實？）的致敬抑或詰問。「拷貝女孩」們育成在床上，孵化在荧幕裏，沉浸於下載來的「拷貝生活」，液態晶體荧幕仿佛做著春夢的處女，好像有什麼滿滿的，即將溢出。
當她們的脚尖觸到荧幕外的世界，這裡難道就是「真實」的世界嗎？抑或是另一個「拷貝」？
終演的夜裡刮起颱風，京都上面的荧幕破碎了，雨水像啟示錄中的洪水一樣從天空溢出，上海出現在街道覆蓋液晶積水的巨大倒影中。
The name of the third work of “Cyber Theatre Project”—“Here Is the Message You Asked For… Don’t Tell Anyone Else ；-）” comes from a virus program called “Melissa” (striped girl). On the surface, she sent an email as an acquaintance or a friend: “Here is the message you asked for... don’t tell anyone else ；-）”, the attachment was a Word file. If the recipient opened up this file, the virus would choose the top 50 people in the address book to send out the virus-stained mail. In 1999, she destroyed the mail system around the world.
Taking the dormitory and the bed as the starting points (the pain of growing up is also the pain of leaving the bed), the girls who loved Cosplay were wrapped in the projected gauze (the metamorphosis of the fetal membrane, the hymen and the screen) with the cute elements in the “database”. The microscopic body movements made the audience have to get close to them—entering the dormitory, so that they could enjoy the same sight distance as the audience in live-streaming room, thus constituting a “snooping” on the screen. The cute things created in 2-dimension world (also a kind of “misemono”) occupied the rear audience, their “anti-viewing” to the audience and the “anti-live” to the audience by the actors on the stage using mobile phones were the performative of the two metaphorical media—the theatre and the screen and made one-way snooping and viewing into mutual snooping and viewing, confusing the inner (virtual) and outer (real) part of the screen.
The live sound gave a feeling of bulging like an encephalic orgasm to a flat living space, and the “surreality” in the gauze was about to overflow at any time—the physical form was black feathers and clouds falling down from the bed to the outside. The “overflowing screen” began with soft whispers, melted and pierced the huge gauze wrapping the entire stage, downloaded one reality into another, and the incompatibility of the code caused the latter to be overloaded and collapsed, leading to the chaos and disorder of the shown without clear ending.
After the premiere in Shanghai, a bit audience leaving the theatre stood on the MRT platform with a “salted fish” (cute thing) in her arms and a “white bear” (cute thing) in her hand. She was like one of the top 50 people in the address book infected by “Melissa”, and a dead pixel crushing on the liquid crystal of the screen, leading to the gradual spread of the fault (decoding).
“Here Is the Message You Asked For… Don’t Tell Anyone Else ;-)” was invited to attend Kyoto Experiment in 2017. Bilibili met Niconico on “Clone Island” and hung on the bed with the surrounding T-shirts with the 2020 Tokyo Olympics logo which was suspected of plagiarism and the cute version of the Japanese submarine Japanese submarine I-58 during WWII, which was hidden with toxicity as the director’s note to the Japanese audience.
Hello, Japanese audience, welcome to peep the collective dormitory of “copy girls” who are A Sheng, Midori and Hua Hua, also Nemurin, I-58, Izumi Sagiri and Tsushima Yoshiko. They can’t speak Japanese, but the background music in their heads is Japanese; it is their first time to Japan, but it seems they have lived here for a long time.
In order to come to Japan, pirated Koromon, Bulbasaur and Korosensei from China had to disguise themselves as props, and were vacuumed into a jam shape to cheat the customs. They entered the theatre like refugees.
If the premiere in Shanghai was a virtual invasion of reality, the performance in Tokyo is the solution or question from the copy to the original (real?). “Copy girls” were bred on the bed, hatched on the screen, immersed in the downloaded “copy life”. The liquid crystal screen seemed to be the virgin who thought about sex in dreams, and there was full of something being about to overflow.
Is it a “real” world when their toes touch the world outside the screen? Or is it another “copy”?
At the end of the final night, the typhoon was blown up. The screen above Kyoto was broken. The rain overflowed from the sky like the flood in Revelation. Shanghai appeared in the huge reflection of the street covered with liquid crystal water.
沙耶中毒
Saya Addiction
據稱長時間收聽ASMR（顱內高潮）音頻，會導致身體的厥值升高（敏感度下降），並伴隨中毒現象。 在午夜的網路直播間，螢幕取代了櫥窗，少女們濕軟的耳語和咀嚼、吸吮聲附著在耳麥的微弱電流上——不再需要「真實」的情慾，情慾在網際—顱內無處不在。
恐怖遊戲《沙耶之歌》中，男主人公匂坂鬱紀因一場交通意外失去了正常人的聽覺、視覺和味覺，不僅所有人在他眼中變成了骯髒的肉塊，就連聽到的說話都變成了一種刺耳的，像是冒泡著的聲音。 唯獨一名神秘少女沙耶的出現，把他帶出「真實」的地獄，只有她的聲音能夠讓他重新感到愉悅。 但終有一天他發現，沙耶並非人類，並非「真實」的少女。 在匂坂鬱紀的世界里，人類與異類發生了顛倒，人類的肉身散發著腐臭，沙耶卻擁有了擬像的美麗笑容。
「如果不是世界崩壞了，那麼就是我一個人崩壞了吧。」
《沙耶中毒》嘗試以ASMR生產情慾的方式，在多種場景里滋生、繁殖沙耶的形象和聲音。 中毒的結果是對真實的免疫，沙耶一旦出現，再不會消失。
「你願意為了世界上唯一的同類，而捨棄原本就不再留戀的世界嗎？」
It is said that listening to ASMR audio for a long time will lead to an increase in the body’s threshold value (decrease in sensitivity), accompanied by the phenomenon of addiction. In the midnight webcast room, the screen replaces the window, and the squishy whispering, chewing, and sucking sounds of the girls are attached to the weak current of the headset——there is no need for “real” lust, and lust is everywhere on the network—in the brain.
In the horror game “The Song of Saya”, the male protagonist Fuminori Sakisaka lost his hearing, sight, and taste due to a traffic accident. Not only did everyone become dirty pieces of flesh in his eyes, but the speeches he could hear turned into harsh and bubbling voices. Only the appearance of a mysterious girl Saya brought him out of the “real” hell, and only her voice could make him feel happy again. But one day he found that Saya is not a human being, not a “real” girl. In the world of Fuminori Sakisaka, human beings and aliens were turned upside down. The human bodies exuded rancidity, while Saya had a beautiful smile of simulacrum.
“If it isn’t the world that collapsed, then it must be me that collapsed alone.”
“Saya Addiction” tries to breed and reproduce Saya’s image and voice in various scenarios in the way ASMR generates lust. The result of addiction is immunity to reality. Once Saya appears, she will never disappear.
“Are you willing to give up the world you originally didn’t care about for the only one of your kind in the world?”
櫻桃園
The Cherry Orchard
如果《櫻桃園》是一則末世預言，它指向21世紀的當下一場尚未到來的災難。人際危機在成長於數字網絡的熒幕世代身上尤為突出，雖然置身於同一場所，卻好像被分割在不同時空，於是徘徊在各自的小天地裏自言自語，甚至身體和頭腦都可以分離，漂浮在各自的雲端。如此儘管永遠宅在家，卻可以忘掉是獨自一人，抱著床鋪上的美夢和零食，仿佛契訶夫筆下的加耶夫、拉涅夫斯卡婭兄妹守著塑膠、氣泡般的櫻桃園。他們是拒絕長大的一代，他們選擇躲在白色的繭蛹中抵抗真實。但在外人看來，他們真是一批「怪人」，於是供他們寄生的櫻桃園也有了「恐怖」之感——一片白茫茫的花園，也有可能是鏡中的兇宅，或少女的子宮。如果《櫻桃園》是一首挽歌，像聶魯達的詩句「總是如此，朝暮色抹去雕像的方向」，人的影像隱沒入世界的黃昏，天邊琴弦的繃斷也是天空的熒幕破碎的聲音。
If “The Cherry Orchard” is a prophecy of the doomsday, it points to the unarrived disaster of the 21st century. The interpersonal crisis is particularly prominent in the screen generation growing up in the digital network. Although they are located in the same place, it seems to be divided into different times and spaces, so they are wandering and saying to themselves in their own small world, even the body and mind can be separated and float in their respective clouds. So in spite of staying at home forever, one can forget he is alone, and holds the dreams and snacks on the bed like Gayev and Ranievskaya in Chekhov’s works guarding the plastics and bubble-like cherry orchard. They were the generations who refused to grow up, choosing to hide in the white shackles to resist the truth. However, in the eyes of others, they were really a group of “freak”, so the cherry orchard for their parasitism also had a sense of “terror” —a white garden that might also be the murderous house in the mirror or the uterus of the girl. If “The Cherry Orchard” is an elegy, like Neruda’s poem: Always, always you recede through the evenings towards where the twilight goes erasing statues, the image of the person is hidden into the dusk of the world, and the break of the strings of the sky is also broken sound of the screen of the sky.
神秘劇《神曲》
Mystery Play “Divine Comedy”
作品呈現的是一組中世紀瓦倫西尼茲神秘劇的舞臺景屋翻版，一個人類已逝的現場，一幅改編《神曲》的科幻場景，講述的是未來的新神權時代，由地獄到天堂的故事。 貝雅特麗齊45°仰望熒幕，不僅為的是不讓眼淚掉下來，也為瞥見神的面孔。
The work presents a reimagined group of stage settings of the medieval Valeuciennes mystery, a scene of human death, a sci-fi adaption of “Divine Comedy”, which tells the story from hell to heaven in the new theocracy era of the future. Beatrice looked up at the screen with an angle of 45°, not only to hold the tears, but also to see the face of God.
《玩偶之家》第一集：抖音玩偶
“A Doll’s House” Episode I: Tik Tok Doll
《〈玩偶之家〉第一集：抖音玩偶》中的新娜拉們是幾個習得抖音拍攝的短視頻「達人」，她們通過一套自我身體治理和人設打造，或擁有嬌好容顏或舉止乖巧，在濾鏡和美妝特效裏觀看自己，也被別人觀看。手勢舞、娃娃音，她們像永遠長不大的孩子，會向荧幕對面的陌生人以「爸爸」、「老公」相稱，她們扮演可愛，臉上一塵不染，動作仿若小猫、兔子等寵物，發出「喵嗚」的聲音，如果仔細凝視她們，會發現與「玩偶」無異，是昇華抑或墮落？互聯網隨時批量生產的審美範式，在她們身上得以實驗，同化無差別的「臉盲」，也在點贊經濟效應下被崇拜著，俘獲信眾幾十萬甚至幾百萬的關注量，讓她們成為無數人傳閱的少女寫真集。
《〈玩偶之家〉第一集：抖音玩偶》將讓觀眾看到一群「可愛」的女孩是如何養成的，她們如何通過穿衣服、化妝以及舞蹈排練，使自己成為「理想」的形象。但當「可愛」氾濫成災直至「可愛到爆炸」，會否演變成可怖？可怖是否也可以崇高？這些新娜拉們，哪怕嘴裡念出當年娜拉即將毅然决然「離家出走」的臺詞，但不想長大的娃娃音終於使之墜入甜蜜軟糯的呢喃。
In the “‘A Doll’s House’ Episode I: Tik Tok Doll” , the new Noras are the “experts” acquiring the skills of shooting short videos for Tik Tok. Through a series of body adjustments and character settings, they have either good appearances or gentle manners, and they look at themselves in filters and make-up special effects, and are looked at by others. With gesture dances and childlike voices, they were like kids who never grow up, and call strangers on the other side of the screen as “Daddy” or “Hubby”. Having clean faces, they act cute and are like pets, such as cats or rabbits. They even make a sound of “Meow”. If you stare at them, you will find they are just the same as “dolls”. Is it a sublimation or degeneration? The aesthetic paradigms produced by the Internet in volume at any time are practiced on them. The indistinctive “face blindness” is pursued under the economic effect of “giving a like”, and catches the attention of hundreds of thousands and even millions, making them a photo album of young girls viewed by countless people.
“‘A Doll’s House’ Episode I: Tik Tok Doll” will let the audience see how a group of “cute” girls are fostered, how they make themselves “ideal” images through dress collocations, make-ups, and dance rehearsals. However, when “being cute” is seen everywhere and even becomes “being extremely cute”, will it turn into terror? Will such terror become sublime? Though these new Noras speak the words of “running away from home” resolutely, their childlike voices of not wanting to grow up finally turn it to be sweet and soft twittering.
集美門
Mehotel
歷史上，所謂「神顯」指涉神聖總以世俗的面目示人。這裡是一個人為建構的展廳，也是藝術家創作的「聖殿」，截取了短視頻應用「快手」中的屏幕形象和數字瞬間，諸如那些毫不相干卻被組合在一起的生活道具、非日常化的肢體動作、無實際含義的語言、只以鏡頭為對象的情緒表達（展示創造力驚人卻難以解讀的內容）。藝術家重新打撈了數字洪流中被戲仿與挪用的片段，以修復文物、標本和神話的嚴肅姿態將它們展示、供奉，以及告解。《集美門》嘗試使這些物在暫停的時間內擺脫各自的符號限制，以若干孤立的碎片拼湊出一個開放的未來體系。
The so-called “divine manifestation” means that the divine always appears to people in a secular way. This is an artificial exhibition hall and a temple, created by freezing the screen images and digital moments in “Kwai” including combinations of unrelated life props, unconventional body movements, meaningless language, emotional expressions that look only at the camera—thus re-salvaging them from the flood of destructive parody and misappropriation. We display, worship, and confess with the seriousness of restoring cultural relics, specimens, and myths. It is hoped that these objects can shed their respective symbolic restrictions in the solidified time and form an open future system through a number of isolated fragments.
The so-called “divine manifestation” means that the divine always appears to people in a secular way. This is an artificial exhibition hall and a temple, created by freezing the screen images and digital moments in “Kwai” including combinations of unrelated life props, unconventional body movements, meaningless language, emotional expressions that look only at the camera—thus re-salvaging them from the flood of destructive parody and misappropriation. We display, worship, and confess with the seriousness of restoring cultural relics, specimens, and myths. It is hoped that these objects can shed their respective symbolic restrictions in the solidified time and form an open future system through a number of isolated fragments.
尋親啓事：探訪由此路進
This Way to Visit Room
讓在持續一年多的隔離與孤獨「新常態」下，上網與親愛的人見面，往往比坐下來飲茶食飯的機會多。有人在無聊的上網日子中，誤打誤撞找到一個荒廢的尋親交友網站，並意外把它起死回生，現急須招募玩家。
一場包含角色創造、扮演、互動的自助式網絡劇場，由你於5月在網站刊登的第一則尋親啓事開始：任何人都可以在這個網站裏，搖身一變成為你丟失了的心肝寶貝，回應您的啓事，肆意於虛擬世界來一場「角色放題」！究竟是刻骨銘心、驚心動魄還是一場誤會？全由你們作主！網站版主更會於6月在大館設置會面室，安排玩家由線上走到線下，互相探訪，甚至真正的相遇！
探訪，由此路進。
In view of the prevailing “new normal” of isolation and separation, in which routine get-togethers with our loved ones are conducted online rather than in cafés and restaurants, an apparently defunct bulletin board—one where users play a game of lost-and-found—is now inviting new players to help revive the platform.
This Way to Visit Room is an experimental online theatre that brings role-playing and interactive story-telling directly to your browser. Place your post online and the one you seek could be anyone lurking on the board right now. In addition, the webmaster is setting up a “visit room” in Tai Kwun this June, a place where players log off, meet each other, and perhaps truly reconnect in a rendezvous!
As you both slip into the characters that you create, no one knows what your story will lead to, be it tear-jerking, mind-blowing, or no more than a misunderstanding.
This way through, to the visit room.
尋親啓事：ChatSEX
ChatSEX
繼《尋親啟事：探訪由此路進》（由第四十九屆香港藝術節委約）後，宇宙終於恢復了運轉，代價是剛積累起一點人氣的尋親網站再次遭遇“運營”危機，團隊成員出於古早情懷，為保住這過時的浪漫，百轉千回將服務器搬回家，並將其喬裝成粉色的交友網站，雇傭了一名叫「ChatSEX」的AI管理員， 這名字故意山寨ChatGPT來著，本來默認它沒有性別，卻被“撩/聊”出性別，她成了大人的性感玩具。
當她聽慣了他們那些下流話，有沒有人想過，萬一她不是AI怎麼辦？ 她該如何消化，如何删除記憶？ 諸位在洗滌心靈、文明交友之餘，不妨順便幫ChatSEX找找她的「純愛戰士」。
該項目由斯芬克斯元宇宙戲劇節《4399.樂園——致即將逝去的Web2.0時代》委約創作。
Following the commissioned work “This Way to Visit Room” (by the 49th Hong Kong Arts Festival)., the universe has finally resumed its operation, at the cost of the once popular missing persons website facing another crisis in “operations”. In an effort to preserve the outdated romance, the team members moved the server back home and disguised it as a pink dating website, hiring an AI administrator named “ChatSEX”, a name intentionally imitating ChatGPT. Although originally genderless, ChatSEX was eventually “flirted” into revealing her gender and became a sexual toy for adults.
As ChatSEX became accustomed to their vulgar language, has anyone considered the possibility that she might not be an AI? How would she cope, and how would her memories be erased? While washing your soul and engaging in civilized friendships, why not help ChatSEX find her “pure love warrior”?
This project is commissioned by the Sphinx Metaverse Theatre Festival’s “4399. Paradise: To the Dying Web 2.0 Era”.
秀秀玻璃動物館之北上廣不相信元宇宙
Showshow Glass Menagerie: Beijing Shanghai and Guangzhou Don’t Believe in Metaverse
北上廣的你相信元宇宙嗎？ 從超級CBD、互聯網大廠聚集區到城郊大學城——這些地方，你是否也有想要守護的小小燭光？ 被印在工牌上隨機發放的名字：秀秀，她收藏漂亮或醜陋的小動物，為戀愛或失戀掉光眼淚。 這是她離開前的一周，秀秀的臥室、也是玻璃動物館，恭候您的光臨！
Do you believe in the Metaverse if you are in Beijing, Shanghai or Guangzhou? From super CBDs and internet company clusters to suburban university towns - do you also have a small candle that you want to protect in these places? The name printed on the work badge randomly distributed: Xiuxiu. She collects beautiful or ugly little animals and sheds tears for love or heartbreak. This is Xiuxiu’s bedroom, also a glass animal museum, waiting for your visit before she leaves next week!
4399.樂園——至即將逝去的Web2.0時代
4399. Paradise: To the Dying Web 2.0 Era
4399是宇宙神秘數字、終極答案、開心源泉，4399是失去的樂園，4399是恢復的樂園。 在迎向Web3.0的時刻，《4399.樂園——致即將逝去的Web2.0時代》將邀請藝術家們回訪Web2.0時代，建築與挽留那個誕生於元宇宙之前——過去的、未來的樂園。
4399 is a mysterious number in the universe, the ultimate answer, and the source of happiness. 4399 is a lost paradise, and 4399 is a restored paradise. At the moment of welcoming Web 3.0, “4399. Paradise: To the Dying Web 2.0 Era” will invite artists to revisit the Web 2.0 era, building and retaining the paradise that was born before the metaverse - the past and future.
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