笑

黄小鹏艺术与教育研究会第三届展览

展期

2025. 12.27 - 2026. 4.17

开幕时间

2025. 12.27  15:30

行为表演

16:00 

陈轴 《形同虚设 VI》

杨美艳  《塑料情歌》 

艺术家

陈李虹、陈轴、戴贤达、韩倩、hana、胡向前、黄成、黄小鹏、蒋志、童义欣、文皆俊杰、辛云鹏、徐灿阳、杨健、杨美艳、耶苏、张东辉、郑源、朱伊宁

策展人 胡丁予

Laughter

The 3rd Exhibition of the Huang Xiaopeng Art & Education Society

Exhibition Dates

2025. 12.27 - 2026. 4.17

Opening

2025. 12.27  15:30

Performance

16:00

Chen Zhou, Form as Emptiness VI

Yang Meiyan, Plastic Love Song

Artists

Chen Lihong, Chen Zhou, Dai Xianda, Han Qian, hana, Hu Xiangqian, Huang Cheng, Huang Xiaopeng, Jiang Zhi, Tong Yixin, Wen Jie Junjie, Xin Yunpeng, Xu Canyang, Yang Jian, Yang Meiyan, Ye Su, Zhang Donghui, Zheng Yuan, Zhu Yining

Curator

Hu Dingyu

如是小鹏笑。为什么探寻小鹏的笑？如果把小鹏的学生视作他的教育成果，他们呈现出一个珍惜而突出的气质：好笑。这种好笑，区别于幽默，不来自认知和对它精微的操弄，而更常与天真混为一谈。敞开地处于生活之中，亦即每一套语言与系统之外，对生活的复杂性自然地产生反应而形成笑的能量，经最通俗的中介让它可达，进而生成可感染的、公共的情绪。笑，也就是天真之气的流动。

小鹏的艺术、教育与他的社会生活是同构的，几乎可以说，是一种笑的实践。小鹏一生游历，在每一处都不合时宜。80年代在广州美术学院，是第一个留长发、穿喇叭裤的“烂仔”，被老师喝止即剃了光头，又成了第一个光头，像劳改犯，是更大的冒犯。90年代到英国求学、生活，再次经历文化和语言的断层。千禧年初回到广州，商品与信息高速流通，美术学院依然僵直，小鹏成立油画系第五工作室（2004-2012），在此进行本土第一代当代艺术教育实践。同时期另两个生动教学实验为，张培力、耿建翌主持的中国美术学院新媒体系（2003-2010）和中央美术学院雕塑系第三工作室（2003至今）。如今看来，几个教学实验同时的生成与退场，又错位地居身于油画、雕塑或新的媒介之中，时代气候的转变和微环境的偶然都彰显，不失为一种好笑。

“三个哭”和“三个笑”，灯箱，每件190cm*190cm*8cm, 2025

Three Cries & Three Laughs, Light Box， 190cm*190cm*8cm（each）,2025

小鹏这样理解艺术，他引用鲍曼，“一个既非私人也非公共而同时恰恰又是更私人更公共的空间。在这空间里私人问题以一种有意义的方式相遇”，而找寻这样一种语言，它不属于世界上任何一种文化，一种世界主义的语言恰恰更接近每一种文化。那么笑不是笑话，而是笑事。有意识地来到不被任何知识与权力绑架的生动之地，在骆驼和狮子之后，像孩童一般自由地——也就是危险地——开口。笑，这样才能肯定生命。

小鹏的代表作，翁子健称之为“误译主义”，正是这样一种间离之声。小鹏在“卡拉OK”系列作品中，用金山词霸或Google翻译将歌词、标语在语言之间往复翻译。异托邦之声，与今日网络文化“空耳大师”、“谷歌翻译20次”、“Google Translate Sings”形成回声，而小鹏原作亦受后舍男生启发，不妨将其视为笑的空间。又有另一件作品，《总是以塑料的热情吸吮了无限》（2011），在以名为“开放的学院意识”的广州美术学院油画系作品展中，小鹏将五颜六色的马桶搋子（厕所泵，广东话）吸附于大堂上空的玻璃上，远看像玻璃糖纸包裹的丘比特群箭。这样小鹏就不再属于杜尚，也不属于学院，不属于广东制造业的日常，而从五工吸吮了它们所有，以塑料的热情。耶苏最近梦到了这件作品，他自答，估计是小鹏提醒要做今年的展览了。

再来看小鹏的教学，不如先看称呼。小鹏出生于1960年，他最大的学生大约1983年出生。他让学生们叫他小鹏，没有“老师”，抹去姓，还是一个“小”，年龄看不清，师生来不及反应就模糊成朋友。作为对比，中国美术学院新媒体系也将耿建翌面对面称呼为老耿，那当然是一位智慧的长者。老耿，小鹏，怪好笑的。笑是社会性的，指涉一种同在的时间，天真之气可以相互感染吗？小鹏说，“being an artist, I always tell them, is kind of you choose your life.”小鹏的教学，不在于知识的传递，而是提供如此多的教堂之外，另一种可能。这是对理性和人性的局限的觉察。在此之上，还有能重新创造价值的勇气，它出自对生命、对艺术与对社会的承诺。小鹏认为，艺术家应当关心生活，就像社会中任何一个人一样。那么笑是对紧张的释放，回返本真，还要发出笑的声音。小鹏的朋友即学生在他离世后，以如此多的怀念、不舍、不甘与愤怒，而承诺每年以基于研究的展览活动纪念他，持续地以创作与他对话。我想，笑是爱的谜团，它的形状有时是生命。

黄小鹏艺术与教育研究会第三届展览在泥鳅美术馆举行，以“笑”为主题，向艺术家发出邀请，以新作回应，加入这爱的谜团，天真之气的流动。“当我成为你，我才更是我自己”，再一次，在“没有艺术的地方”，一起发笑。

文 / 胡丁予

Thus spoke Xiaopeng’s laughter. Why search for Xiaopeng’s laughter? If we regard his students as the outcomes of his pedagogy, they reveal a rare and precious disposition: a quality of being laughable. This laughability is distinct from humor; it does not arise from cognition or the subtle manipulation of wit, but is more often entwined with innocence. It is an openness to life itself—outside all systems of language and order—responding naturally to life’s complexity and generating an energy of laughter that travels through the most ordinary mediators, becoming accessible, contagious, and public. Laughter, then, is the circulation of innocence.

Xiaopeng’s art, teaching, and social life were structurally homologous; one could almost say they constituted a practice of laughter. He spent his life in motion, perpetually out of place. In the 1980s at the Guangzhou Academy of Fine Arts, he was the first to wear long hair and flared trousers—the delinquent of the school. When reprimanded by faculty, he shaved his head immediately, becoming the first bald student as well, resembling a reformed prisoner, an even greater provocation. In the 1990s, he moved to the UK to study and live, encountering once again a rupture of culture and language. At the turn of the millennium, he returned to Guangzhou: commodities and information circulated at high speed, while the academy remained rigid. There, he founded the Fifth Studio of the Oil Painting Department (2004–2012), initiating one of the first local experiments in contemporary art education. Two other vital pedagogical experiments of the same period were the New Media Department at the China Academy of Art, led by Zhang Peili and Geng Jianyi (2003–2010), and the Third Studio of the Sculpture Department at the Central Academy of Fine Arts (2003–present). In retrospect, the simultaneous emergence and withdrawal of these experiments—misaligned yet embedded within oil painting, sculpture, or new media—bear witness to shifts in the spirit of the times and the contingencies of micro-environments, a condition not without its own laughability.

“三个哭”和“三个笑”，灯箱，每件190cm*190cm*8cm, 2025

Three Cries & Three Laughs, Light Box， 190cm*190cm*8cm（each）,2025

This was how Xiaopeng understood art. Quoting Zygmunt Bauman, he spoke of “the space neither private nor public, but more exactly private and public at the same time. In this space, private problems meet in a meaningful way.” He sought a language that belonged to no single culture, a cosmopolitan language that might, paradoxically, come closer to every culture. In this sense, laughter is not a joke but an event. It is the conscious arrival at a vital terrain unbound by knowledge or power, where, after the camel and the lion, one speaks freely—like a child—and therefore dangerously. Only through laughter, he believed, can life be affirmed.

Xiaopeng’s representative works, which Anthony Yung described as “mistranslationism,” embody precisely such voices of estrangement. In the Karaoke series, he repeatedly translated song lyrics and slogans back and forth between languages using tools such as Kingsoft Dictionary and Google Translate. These heterotopic sounds resonate with contemporary internet cultures—“soramimi master,” “Google Translate twenty times,” “Google Translate Sings”—while Xiaopeng’s originals, inspired in part by Hou She Nan Sheng, can themselves be understood as spaces of laughter. Another work, Always Sucking Limitless with Enthusiasm Plastic (2011), presented in the Oil Painting Department exhibition titled “Open Academic Consciousness” at the Guangzhou Academy of Fine Arts, featured multicolored toilet plungers suctioned onto the glass ceiling of the main hall. From a distance, they resembled clusters of Cupid’s arrows wrapped in translucent candy paper. In this gesture, Xiaopeng no longer belonged to Duchamp, nor to the academy, nor to the everyday of Guangdong manufacturing; instead, he absorbed all of them through the Fifth Studio, with the fervor of plastic. Ye Su recently dreamt of this work and concluded that it must have been Xiaopeng reminding him to organize this year’s exhibition.

To consider Xiaopeng’s pedagogy, it is best to begin with how he was addressed. Born in 1960, his oldest students were born around 1983. He asked them to call him “Xiaopeng”—no “teacher,” no surname, only the diminutive “Xiao, meaning little or junior in Chinese.” Age became indistinct; before anyone could react, teacher and student blurred into friends. By contrast, at the China Academy of Art’s New Media Department, Geng Jianyi was addressed face-to-face as “Lao (meaning old in Chinese) Geng,” a title befitting a wise elder. Lao Geng, Xiaopeng—how laughable that is. Laughter is social; it presupposes a shared temporality. Can the breath of innocence be mutually contagious? Xiaopeng once said, “Being an artist, I always tell them, is kind of you choose your life.” His teaching was not about transmitting knowledge, but about offering another possibility beyond the church—an awareness of the limits of reason and human nature, and, beyond that, the courage to recreate values, born of a commitment to life, art, and society. He believed artists should care about life as any person in society does. Laughter, then, becomes a release of tension, a return to the authentic, and a sound that must be voiced.

After his passing, Xiaopeng’s friends—who were also his students—responded with such abundance of remembrance, reluctance, resentment, and anger that they pledged to commemorate him annually through research-based exhibitions, continuing to converse with him through creation. I believe laughter is a riddle of love; sometimes, its very shape is life.

The third exhibition of the Huang Xiaopeng Art & Education Society will be held at the Art Museum of Pond Loach, under the theme “Laughter.” Artists are invited to respond with new works and to join this riddle of love, this circulation of innocence. “I am you, when I am I”—once again, in “a place without art,” let us laugh together.

Text by Hu Dingyu