CHAT Discussion Forum 2018 Claudia Pestana, Chief Editor
Gabriela Sánchez y Sánchez de la Barquera Antonia Syme Sharon Tsang-de Lyster Yee I-Lann
文 集
紡 織 傳 六承 廠： 研現 討在 會與 未 來
2018
Ade Darmawan Johanna Engman Koike Kazuko Kobayashi Fumie Li Cheuk Yin Bruce
歌 地 亞 ． 匹 斯 坦 娜 主 編
CHAT
A Reader Textile Legacies: Now and Future
紡織傳承：現在與未來
Gabriela Sánchez y Sánchez de la Barquera Antonia Syme Sharon Tsang-de Lyster Yee I-Lann
2018
Ade Darmawan Johanna Engman Koike Kazuko Kobayashi Fumie Li Cheuk Yin Bruce
六廠研討會 CHAT
Claudia Pestana, Chief Editor
文集
CHAT Discussion Forum 2018
歌地亞．匹斯坦娜主編
A Reader Textile Legacies: Now and Future
Co-Directors’ Foreword The December 2018 Discussion Forum, Textile Legacies: Now and Future, was the third iteration of these yearly gatherings organised by CHAT (Centre for Heritage, Arts and Textile) and the first one to be held at our final venue, The Mills, a project that converted the original cotton-spinning factory building of Nan Fung Textiles in Tsuen Wan into a vibrant mixed-use centre that houses CHAT, The Mills Fabrica and The Mills Shopfloor. Providing context for the programme, the yearly discussion forum is a crucial tool in conveying CHAT’s mission as an art centre that weaves creative experiences for all. Firmly rooted in textiles and the many social, material and artistic definitions evoked, CHAT aims to become an experimental, experiential and thought-provoking art centre where unexpected approaches to contemporary art, making and labour are explored through the lens of textiles. The topic of the 2018 Discussion Forum was textile legacies and invited a varied group of contemporary art and design practitioners and academics to speak about how their work with creative communities, makers and the language of textiles and fashion asks questions about the future of textile craft, its commodification and the communities around it. The approaches came from very diverse contexts but they shared in commonality a careful bond with the past while looking for ways to use the lessons learned to plot the future. At CHAT we are constantly asking what many inheritors of historical crafts, architecture and cultures around the world grapple with. How do we find the balance between old and new? How does obsolete technology impart modern day wisdom? How do traditional crafts re-energise themselves and their creations? How do we best communicate these composite and complex narratives to our audience? How do we motivate people to reconsider the past without using only nostalgia as a tool? Each of the speakers answered these questions in unique ways and the conversations started that weekend have rippled into areas of exploration for CHAT, future programming and a strengthened network of thinkers and creatives that help us build an institution that is open and committed to asking questions and finding creative and responsible solutions in a changing world. With CHAT’s opening in 2019, CHAT’s mission to build a creative space for Hong Kong’s public is fostered and amplified by these exchanges and discussions with visionary practitioners from various international entities who share their wisdom on how they face similar thematic challenges in their respective home countries. With this publication, we wish to collect and convey some of the crucial ideas discussed during the forum but also as part of the body of knowledge that CHAT wants to share around the topic of textiles and the evolution of making. We invite you to
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discover the different projects and points of view and hope to see you in future forums. We want to acknowledge the generous support from our founding donor, The D. H. Chen Foundation, and our main donor, Nan Fung Group. Without their deep understanding of our mission to reactivate Hong Kong’s textile industrial legacy with contemporary art and design to communicate with present-day audiences, this could not have been possible. The discussion forum was an accredited event of BODW City Programme 2018 and was made possible by the tremendous support received from the Kingdom of the Netherlands. In addition, we want to further acknowledge ShowTex, KLM Royal Dutch Airlines and L’hotel Group, who have provided us with significant support for hosting the overseas speakers. Takahashi Mizuki and Teoh Chin Chin Co-Directors, CHAT (Centre for Heritage, Arts and Textile)
Co-Directors’ Foreword
聯席總監前言
透過這本刊物，我們希望收集和闡述論壇中討論到
2018 年 12 月「 紡 織 傳 承： 現 在 與 未 來 」是 CHAT 六 廠
的重要議題，同時就紡織品及其工業演進積累知識，並
首次於 CHAT 六廠的永久場地舉行，南豐紗廠乃位於荃
待以後在論壇中見到您。
（ 六廠紡織文化藝術館）舉辦的第三場年度研討會，亦 灣的南豐紡織廠房舊址改裝成的一棟多用途中心，容納
予以分享。我們誠邀您從中發掘不同項目與觀點，並期 我們藉此感謝創始捐助機構陳廷驊基金會及主要
了 CHAT 六廠、南豐作坊和南豐店堂。
捐助機構南豐集團。他們確切了解我們的使命並使之
的理念同出一轍：成為一間為大眾編織創作體驗的藝術
元素，跟當今的觀眾對話。這個論壇也是設計營商周
週年研討會作為展覽項目的藍圖，故與 CHAT 六廠
實現：活化香港紡織傳奇，為之注入當代藝術與設計
中心。CHAT 六廠致力營造實驗性、體驗主導和啟發思
（BODW）城市項目的正式活動，並得到荷蘭政府的大
術性的多重定義，運用出人意表及另類的角度，透過紡
家航空公司及如心酒店集團的支持，在接待海外講者方
考的項目，紮根於紡織及其衍生之社會性、物料性和藝 織探索當代藝術、創造力和勞動。
2018 年研討會的題目為「 紡織傳承」，邀請了一眾
當代藝術及設計工作者和學者分享他們就與創意社群、 創作者、紡織及時裝語言合作時，詰問紡織工藝的未 來、它的商品化以及圍繞它的社區。這些議題雖然涉獵
力支持。我們也希望藉此感謝 ShowTex、KLM 荷蘭皇 面提供支援。
高橋瑞木及張晶晶
CHAT 六廠（ 六廠紡織文化藝術館）聯席總監
不同範疇，卻都刻意保留與過去的聯繫，設法讓未來借
鑒。CHAT 六廠經常向許多傳統工藝、藝術和文化的繼 承人了解，他們在世界大勢所產生的衝突為何？我們怎
樣找到新舊之間的平衡？不合時的科技怎樣啟發新一代 的智慧？傳統工藝怎樣活化自身？我們怎樣才能有效向
觀眾傳遞這些既多義又複雜的論述？我們如何不打著懷 舊的旗號，做到鼓勵人們反思過去？
每 位 講 者 對 這 些 問 題 均 有 獨 特 見 解， 那 個 週
末 的 研 討 對 話 慢 慢 發 酵， 領 著 我 們 作 多 方 面 的 發 展， 包 括 計 畫 未 來 的 項 目， 以 及 建 立 並 鞏 固 我 們 的 網 絡， 與 有 想 法 和 創 意 的 人 共 構 一 個 開 放 且 勇 於 發 問 的 機 構， 在 轉 變 不 息 的 社 會 中 努 力 尋 找 具 創 意 和 負 責 任 的 答 案。 隨 著 CHAT 六 廠 於 2019 年 正 式 開 幕，藉著此等交流與討論作為催化劑，不同國際機構具
前瞻性的業內人士都毫不吝惜地分享面對類似問題的解 決手法，有助我們逐步實踐為香港大眾建構創意空間的 使命。
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聯席總監前言
When you are born, what is the first material that touches your skin? Most probably it will be a very soft natural cotton. I believe this to be almost globally true. Textiles are the first materials that we encounter when we come into this world. As our consciousness grows and our lives go on, we encounter countless other materials. I often think of my favourite cloth, textiles, and of course, my dresses and blankets from my childhood. Once, I had a tenugui, a traditional Japanese washcloth. I treasured it so much that I used it until the white parts were almost brown. This was during the war and there were extreme shortages of fabric and almost every other material. When the war ended, everyday life in Japan gradually recovered. In the 1950s, I remember my father going abroad on a trip and bringing back the most beautiful handkerchiefs from Switzerland. They were embroidered with flowers and a maid wearing a folk dress. These images were quite touristy, but, for me, at the time, they were something I had never seen or touched before. They became my treasures and were possibly what opened my eyes to foreign textile products. Everyone has these stories related to their memories of family, friends and some particular episode involving a textile. For many, kimonos are a way to enjoy Japanese textiles, from elegant silk kimonos, to handspun, handwoven, hand-dyed, and sometimes to ones using techniques such as shibori and embroidery. All these bring together a highly treasured degree of craftsmanship that is mostly found in kimonos made for festive occasions. Throughout history, the kimonos used for daily wear are mostly made of cotton. In my late teens, I chanced upon a craft shop in Ginza founded by Masako Shirasu. This great lady is a writer who is knowledgeable in Japanese Art from historical paintings and Buddhist sculptures, to performance art such as Noh and Bunraku. Her research and interests developed from the tools for tea ceremonies to the objects of daily life including textiles and other cloth-related objects. Her collection of textiles had many handwoven cotton swatches showing the most beautiful but fundamental stripes, plaids, geometric ikat patterns, as well as deepcoloured plain dyed cloth. Since my mother was a professional dressmaker, I asked her to make a one-piece dress using Madam Shirasu’s cotton stripe cloth, which I wore repeatedly. After this, I started to trace the history of traditional Japanese woven stripes and found the most beautiful archive materials. There is a type of sample notebook that each craftsperson makes through the collecting of their own weavings. Recently I found a tiny handmade book with a family’s samples. Whenever I open the pages, I can’t help but become sentimental
thinking of their committed thoughts and handiwork that produced these new but familiar and beautiful textiles. In the most anonymous, authentic, essential and fundamental sense, cloth-making is located here. We can inherit a craftsperson’s unconscious text in these sample weavings. Issey Miyake, in his first book East Meets West, which I edited with Ikko Tanaka, the great art director of our era, shows the contemporary clothing designs he created for the urban citizens of Japan and the world. He recreated Japanese cotton stripes and suggested where contemporary society should be headed. It has been 40 years, but this concept is still vivid and alive. Issey Miyake’s fabulous series of daily clothes was shown to the public in SAGACHO Exhibit Space, an alternative space I will elaborate on later. My interest in textile-related clothing culture has continued to grow and I now find myself as a design and art curator who enjoys the experience of dealing with textile and textile related artworks. This led me to found and open an alternative space for art and design, SAGACHO Exhibit Space, where I experimented with new horizons for creation. For textile design, I chose Arai Junichi, who in the 80s was very busy developing new ideas for fashion designers such as Comme des Garçons, Issey Miyake, and many others. Each collection season, designers would seek out Arai and he would do his best to propose a new expression in textile. When I think back on those days, I like to call those times ‘the days of TACTILE sense’. When I proposed a solo exhibition to this preeminent figure of textile-making, he agreed to take part; and for the opening, he presented a performance of human textile weaving. In the exhibition, people stood at each side of the space carrying the edge of the fabric in a row, vertically and horizontally. Then, at Arai’s command, they moved as if they were warp and woof. Through the performance, the audience, students and staff all took part in weaving an enormous textile piece together. Although a fairly simple idea, it made all the participants happy. I often think that without textiles or the idea of them, we cannot realise certain concepts in art or even certain artworks. For her exhibition at SAGACHO Exhibit Space, Naito Rei needed a particular type of huge tent. Her concept of art is that the universe is composed of the tiniest pieces of things such as the seeds of plants, small pieces of gauze, toothpicks, grains, etc. Oval-shaped and with an area of 240 m2, the tent was made possible by our architect friend Hasegawa Itsuko and the Taiyo Tent Company. Naito Rei requested a textile so delicate that its surface had to be brushed and shaved, until it became soft as flannel. The right texture was only achieved after several trials. Inside the tent, the atmosphere was like a meditation area and only one person was allowed in at a time, as the artist hoped each individual would encounter the artwork alone. Once inside, you could
18
Koike Kazuko
出生之後，第一種與我們肌膚接觸的物料是甚麼？很可
能是一種非常柔軟的天然棉。我相信這幾乎放諸四海 皆準。紡織品是我們來到這世界時最先遇見的物料。隨 著我們的意識漸長且生命尚存，我們會遇見無數的其他 物料。
我常常憶起我最喜歡的布料、紡織品，還有我孩提
時的衫裙和毯子。我曾經擁有一條「 手拭」，亦即一種傳 統的日式毛巾。我極之鍾愛它，甚至將它白色的部分用
得幾乎變成啡色。那是戰爭的時候，布料和其他物資都 處於極度短缺的狀態。當戰爭結束後，日本的日常生活
逐漸回復。在 1950 年代，我記得我父親出外公幹，並
從瑞士帶回來了最美麗的手帕。它們有花朵和穿著民俗 裙的侍女刺繡。這些圖案相當俗氣，但對當時的我來說
卻是我從來沒有看過或觸摸過的東西。它們成為我的寶 藏，而且為我打開了欣賞國外紡織品的大門。所有人都 有類似的故事，與家人或朋友的記憶，以及與某件紡織 品相關的事情。
對很多人來說，和服是欣賞日本紡織品的一個途
徑，不論是高雅的絲質和服，或是手工紡線、編織、染 色，甚至由絞染和刺繡技術製成的和服。這些為人重視
的工藝通常在為喜慶場合製作的和服中找到。在歷史 上，日常穿著的和服多數是由棉製成的。
在我快成年時，我在銀座偶然發現一家由白洲正
子創辦的手工藝店。這位令人敬佩的女士是一名作家， 她通曉日本藝術，從歷史繪畫和佛教雕塑，至表演藝術
如能劇和文樂。她的研究和興趣從茶道用具發展至日用 品，包括紡織品和其他布製物件。她的紡織品收藏中有 很多手工紡織的棉布樣本，展示美麗而基本的條紋、格
紋、幾何的印尼綁染圖案、以及色彩濃厚的淨色染布。 因為我的母親是專業裁縫，我便請她用白洲女士的條紋 棉布造了一件連身裙子，當時的我不斷重複穿著。自此 之後，我開始追查日本傳統紡織條紋的歷史，並找到最 美麗的檔案資料。
有一種樣辦筆記，是每一位工匠收集自己的紡織品
製作而成的。最近我找到一本，記載著家族樣辦的小本
子。每當我打開它，並想到嶄新而熟悉的美麗紡織品背 後，是他們投入的巧思和手工，我就無法抑制自己的感
動。在最隱姓埋名、真摯、必要和基本的層面，這是製 衣的本質。從這些紡織樣辦中，我們可以閱讀工匠潛藏 在織物樣辦中的文本。
三宅一生的第一本著作《East Meets West》，即我
和當今具代表性的美術總監田中一光共同編輯的書中， 展示了他為日本和世界城市人設計的當代衣物。他重新 打造日式棉質條紋，並提出當代社會應該走的方向。至
今已過了 40 年，但這個概念仍然鮮活眼前。三宅一生出
色的日常服系列在佐賀町展覽空間展出，我稍後會再詳 述這另類空間。
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小池一子
London, 19 February, 2019 My mission at the British Museum’s storage is to find out whether there is any documentation on how people from a Miao group in Guizhou in southwest China learn to make their folk embroidery. Helen, the Collection Manager, kindly prepared a table covered with embroidered garments from the Gina Corrigan collection, acquired in the 1990s, alongside her original photo slides and notes, boxes of workin-process items, and tools that Helen herself had purchased during a study trip there. ‘It was really to keep a record of this amazing needlework, such a legacy of the minority groups there,’ she said, remembering the beautiful time she had spent in those villages while slightly discouraged by the disappearance of the craft. The lavishly embellished costumes, as well as the silk threads, needles, paper patterns and braiding tools, laid out before me, all testified to a masterful making process. Years of empirical research into these embroideries have resulted in highly detailed and instructive publications dedicated to these impressive materials. Appreciating and evaluating embroidery solely at their finished stage, as they would be displayed in an exhibition, has, however, been described by Nicolas Argenti (Argenti 2013, p. 72) as a bias of the Western ‘matter-form model’ where matter entails only the technological processes. Perhaps, by approaching these crafts from a less material-driven perspective, they could be seen as physical products to be examined across cultures? As material evidence of practices, might they propose paradigm shifts into how mind and body, process and product, or subject and object are understood? Given that any thematic and coordinated embroidering involves planning, it is also complex mind work that requires full control of body techniques to produce precision in intricate work that can only be achieved by repeated practice. Like problem-solving, such craft demands constant negotiating and coordinating of the mind and physical body (Marchand 2016), deep concentration and skilled bodily movements, especially — but not exclusively — by the fingers. Anthropologist Thomas Csordas states ‘the body is simultaneously both the original object upon which the work of culture is carried out, and the original tool with which that work is achieved.’ This embodiment of the maker’s mind, body and social life in textile, like in many crafts, motivated my interest in investigating how artisans learn, design and interpret the legacy of their craft at the British Museum’s storage. The fact that there were no embroidery samplers found in the museum collection left my questions unanswered and I was called back to the field…
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Yang Miu Zi’s ‘Hundred Bird’ Costume, Miao Group, Guizhou: A Point of Departure After driving and trekking up some curvy roads to Guizhou, I met Yang Miu Zi, master of the Hundred Bird costume. Her craft, known for its intricate embroidered bird motifs, is both rare and highly priced. With a fine silk-felt as their base cloth, these embroideries carry important Miao folklore such as the worship of birds. To make the ‘Hundred Bird’ costume, silkworms have to be farmed, silk-felt sheets made, and then dyed, before even beginning the heavy embroidery of the numerous motifs with silk threads on approximately 40 panels. These are then all sewn together with batik fabric added onto cuffs and at the joints between the front and back panels. To complete the costume, 12 hanging panels make up the lower part with Job’s tears and feathers for embellishment. In all, the process can take six months to a year to complete. Perfecting the skills to create such complex work entails unrelenting commitment to learning and practicing each step of the process. Yang learned her craft from her Miao mother, the traditional way, and has passed this on to her daughter-in-law, whom she sees as her successor.
Yang designs her own bird motifs as she directly shapes the fine paper patterns through her scissors’ magic Photo courtesy: The Textile Atlas Photo: Stephanie Teng 楊秀芝徒手剪出自己設計的鳥類圖案紙樣 圖片提供：The Textile Atlas 攝影：Stephanie Teng
Sharon Tsang-de Lyster
倫敦，2019 年 2 月 19 日
其是不僅限於手指。人類學家 Thomas Csordas 表示：
我走進大英博物館的藏品庫是為了尋找關於貴州苗族人
「 身 體 既 是 體 現 文 化 本 身 的 對 象，也 是 實 現 成 品 的 工
調動出於 1990 年代所收購，並以學者 Gina Corrigan 所
起了我去調查工匠如何學習、設計和理解他們在大英博
用以學習民間刺繡的教授記錄。藏品管理人 Helen 為此
命名的一系列刺繡服裝。此外，Helen 亦有準備幻燈片、 筆記甚至自己往貴州學習時所購買的工具。憶述在當地 度過的美好時光，Helen 慨嘆： 「 這種針線活，是苗族這
個少數群族遺留下來的優秀文化遺產，絕對需要被記錄
下來。」眼前的物品包括華麗的服裝、絲線、針、紙樣
具。」工匠的思想、身體及紡織的社交生活的實踐，激
物館藏品庫留下的文化遺產。然而，由於在博物館藏品
中沒有發現刺繡的樣本，讓我的疑問仍未解開就被召回 到當地現場……
楊秀芝的貴州苗族「 百鳥衣」 ：一個出發點
和編織工具，每一樣都見證著一個精湛的製作過程。經
我在開往貴州迂迴曲折的道路上，遇到了「 百鳥衣」的
為出色的刺繡工藝致敬。
名，既稀有而且價格高昂。這些刺繡以精美的絲綢氈為
過多年研究，博物館已經著有詳細且具教育性的刊物， 然 而，Nicolas Argenti（Argenti 2013，72 頁 ）認
為只在完成階段猶如在展覽中鑑賞及評估刺繡作品是來
自西方「 形質模」的偏見，當中物質只著重技術過程。 或許我們不從物料為先的角度去切入觀看這些刺繡，它 們可否被看作是跨文化的產物？這些產物又可否作為刺 繡文化的憑證，改變人們對於民間刺繡相關的思想和身 體、過程和成品或主體和客體上的既有理解？
鑑於任何主題的刺繡都需要規劃，製作者亦需掌
控複雜的思維及技術從而良好控制身體，以產生精確 的複雜工作，並只有通過反覆練習才能實現。就像解決
問題一樣，該工藝需要不斷地談判及協調思想與身體
大師楊秀芝。她的工藝以其錯中複雜的刺繡鳥圖案而聞 基布，帶有重要的苗族民間傳說，如對鳥類的崇拜等。 在製作「 百鳥衣」前，必須先養蠶，製作絲綢氈，然後 染色，更要在大約 40 塊氈上用絲線重複刺繡無數圖案。
繼而將它們全部縫合在一起，並於袖口和前後幅之間以 蠟染織物接縫。下半部由 12 組掛布組成，並用薏仁和羽 毛點綴。整個過程需要六個月到一年才能完成。
要完美掌握這種複雜的工藝必需堅持不懈地去學
習和重複練習每一個工序。楊秀芝的手藝是由她的苗族 母親根據傳統傳授給她，她再將其傳授給她的媳婦，並 視她為繼承人。
（Marchand，2016），深度專注和熟練的身體動作，尤
Yang, proudly introducing her daughter-in-law as her successor, who will continue writing the story of the ‘Hundred Bird’ costume Photo courtesy: The Textile Atlas Photo: Stephanie Teng
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楊秀芝自豪地介紹她的媳婦為她的繼承人，她將會繼續編織「 百鳥 衣」的故事 圖片提供：The Textile Atlas 攝影：Stephanie Teng 曾思朗
Tikar is a traditional, utilitarian object found across the Nusantara region. Tikar is the common Malay lingua for a woven mat. As an object it is often dismissed for being a commonplace household item. The tikar is not a sacred object in itself, but it can become thus when signified through ritual and assigned meaning. I see the woven tikar mat as architectural, providing performative space. When laid out on the ground, it invites a gathering of some sort, provides a platform or stage, a demarcated space for communal interaction. The tikar can be activated as a kind of cultural portal when used in ritual performance or festivities. The tikar is also used to wrap a body for burial, the most intimate of roles. Tikar is primarily communally made, used and sold by women. The tikar is associated with domesticity as well as domestic economy; it involves intimacy, comfort, familiarity, as well as utility related to chores or work, such as fish and chilli-drying. It is also slept on, when and where it provides a dream time-space. The tikar is an heirloom replete with local knowledge: in its preparation, patterns are passed down through generations of women; as storytelling, it contains narratives, holds memory; as capital, it is an object of income, often made for barter and trade; as cultural significance, it may act as a billboard of cultural heritage and pride; it can be 'read' as a map that is both geographical and cultural, describing a place, the geographic vegetation of its making, the peoples from its community of origin, as well as its relationship to landscape. Through its familiarity and a general understanding, we can know tikar without conscious learning, reflecting a ‘genetic memory’ operating on multiple spatio-temporal registers, perspectives and aesthetics. It is an impressive mnemonic trigger that is also a portal and an interstitial weave between cultural interchange, modernism, historiographies. I have recently moved back home to Sabah. I need to find my tikar, my platform, my community to commune with again. After living and working in Kuala Lumpur for more than 20 years, this body of work on tikar is also about finding ways to assert resistance to the homogenisation and assimilation into the dictated and state-sanctioned Malaysian cultural and personal identity. This body of work claims and celebrates communities and their geographies, often at the peripheries, that give shape to the centre. But we all know tikar. Tikar A-Gagah: Introduction Tikar A-Gagah is a giant two-sided tikar mat.1 The monochromatic split bamboo weave of the Dusun/Murut land peoples of inland Keningau district forms the base of the giant mat. When hung lengthways from the ceiling, this faces inwards
towards an intimate space encouraging close proximity to detail. The colourful pandanus weave of the Bajau Laut/Sama DiLaut sea peoples of the Sulu Sea and Semporna coastal district is woven into the outward facing side of the mat, towards the National Gallery Singapore foyer void space, forcing viewing from a distance. The two (geographic) sides remain distinct but are intrinsically woven together into a single twosided mat. Although indigenous communities are incredibly diverse and distinct, in generalised ways, there has been animosity between the land indigenous and the sea indigenous across Southeast Asia for centuries, but this is especially prevalent in Sabah. Exacerbated through the colonial period, this animosity carries through to modern day and encompasses geopolitical issues and identity politics. In the Malay language, tanah means land or earth and air means water or sea. When these two words are conjoined as a compound word tanahair, the meaning changes to become the word for homeland. TanahAir however was a term invented by Dewan Bahasa Pustaka (Malaysia’s Institute of Language and Literature est. 1956) after the English word ‘homeland’, soon after Malaysia's independence from the British to accommodate notions of nation-state modernity under the climate of decolonisation and the rise of nationalism (Leow 2016). This constructed TanahAir homeland was essentially linguistic manipulation not dissimilar to manipulative use of the census, map, mass media and museum, as described in Benedict Anderson’s Imagined Communities, to make diverse people feel like they cared for one another and belonged to each other (Anderson 1983). Notwithstanding sweeping nation-building statecraft, I am zooming in to a very local reality, countering these national frameworks to find alter(-) native relationships in our ‘Zomia’ (Scott 2009). Sabah has always had a somewhat uneasy relationship as a state under the Federation of Malaysia, feeling forced subservience to a dominant centre. This is also personal. I know Sabah will only find peace when the land indigenous and the sea indigenous come together. Accusations of alleged Federal Malaysia social demographic manipulations in Sabah (see Projek IC) and massive undocumented stateless populations have made this issue highly contentious, political and current. Alongside those concerns, in the age of climate change and the Anthropocene, community and sustainable community-driven solutions are everything. These weavings, to be made entirely by women, will stimulate local and household economies. The project hopes to empower communities and encourage the celebration of Sabah’s indigenous crafts and craft makers, whilst inspiring innovation and artistry. I hope to contribute to sustainable revival within the rural and urban crafts as a means to support art-making in Sabah at large.
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Yee I-Lann
Tikar 是馬來群島區域一種傳統的用品。Tikar 在通俗馬
來語解作織墊。它雖然本身是一個不具神聖意義的家居 用品 , 其意義卻可透過儀式昇華。
我從建築的角度去閱讀織墊，它帶來了表演空間。
把它攤放在地面，便會成為一個平台或舞台，邀請大家
我們沒有刻意學習織墊，就自然產生熟悉和建立一
般理解。它寄存了多元時空、觀點和美學操作的「 遺傳 記憶」。這是一個精彩的記憶輔助器，也是通往交織文 化、現代主義、歷史學的一扇門。
我近來搬回了沙巴，皆因需要與我的織墊、平台和
在空間裡聚首互動。當織墊用於儀式表演或節日時，它
群體再次交流。在吉隆坡生活了 20 多年之後，這一系列
的屍體。
人身份的同化所作出的抵抗。這作品宣告並歌頌社群及
便象徵了一扇文化窗口。織墊最貼身的用途是包裹下葬 通常織墊由女性集體製作、使用和銷售。織墊與
家居和家庭經濟息息相關。它是親密的、舒適的、熟悉
的，亦是家務或工作的用品，如晾曬魚乾和辣椒。我們 可以在織墊上睡覺，發個好夢。
織墊是一個裝滿在地智慧的傳家寶。各種圖案透過
編製織墊而在一代代婦女間承傳。它包含敘事、保存記
織墊作品是對應正被國家機器灌輸的馬來西亞文化和個 其地區，要知道中心其實是由這些周邊地區所塑造。 但我們都知道織墊。
Tikar A-Gagah：簡介
《Tikar A-Gagah》是一張大型雙面織墊。
1
根地咬內陸地區杜順／姆律的村民製作的純色竹
憶、述說故事，也是資本，透過以物易物或買賣月帶來
織物是這大型織墊的主軸。從天花板橫向懸掛時，這一
示牌。它是一幅記載了地理和文化的地圖，我們可以了
本那沿海地區的薩馬 - 巴瑤族民的露兜樹彩色織物加入
收入。它有文化意義，可視為文化遺產和引以自豪的展 解其來源地及當地植物、社區的人文風景，以及它與山 水之間的關係。
面朝向一個私密的空間，讓細節一覽無遺。蘇祿海和仙
墊子的外面，朝向美術館大堂空間，觀眾只可遠觀。兩 種截然不同的（ 地理）平面，被編織在一起形成一張雙 面墊。
雖然每個原住民社區各具特色，但在過去幾百年，
東南亞陸地和海島原住民之間存著敵意，在沙巴尤為普
遍。在殖民時期情況加劇，這種爭執持續到現代，形成 地緣和身份政治問題。
馬來語「tanah」意思是陸地或土壤， 「air」意思是
水或海洋。 當這兩個字複合成「tanahair」時，就會變 成家鄉的意思。然而，Dewan Bahasa Pustaka（ 馬來 西亞語言文學研究所，1956 年成立）在馬來西亞獨立
於 英 國 以 後，為 了 取 代 英 語 單 詞「homeland」而 發 明 了 tanahair 一 詞，以 配 合 去 殖 民 化 和 民 族 主 義 的 興 起
（Leow 2016）。
新 造 詞 彙 tanahair 對 照 家 園 一 意 實 際 是 語 言 操
縱，與本尼迪克特 · 安德森的「 想像的共同體」中，人 類利用人口普查、地圖、大眾媒體和博物館的模式大致
相同，以使不同的人相信大家彼此關心並且屬於彼此
（Anderson 1983）。
儘管國家有徹底的治國方針，我反而微觀本土現
狀以抗衡國家定下的框架，在我們的「 贊米亞」 （ 原意是 指坐落東南亞的一個山區地域）中尋找另類原意（Scott
2009）。沙巴作為馬來西亞聯邦的一個州，總有被迫服 Homemade plain tikar bundusan or tikar bemban seen in these snapshots are like the ones my grandmother used to weave. These mats demarcated space for the Kadazan (land indigenous) Kaamatan Harvest Festival Magavau ritual performed by Bobohizan high priestesses. Family snapshot taken by my father in 1981 從這些照片中看到的自家製 tikar bundusan 或葛藤織墊，就像我祖母 以前造的那些。這些墊子劃定了由卡達山（ 陸地原住民）杜順族高級 女祭司主持的豐收節馬嘎哇儀式的範圍。照片由家父於 1981 年拍攝
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從中央的感覺。
這也是個人情意。我知道除非陸地和海島原住民能
和平共處，否則沙巴難有寧日。馬來西亞聯邦政府被指 控操縱沙巴社會人口統計（ 參見 Projek IC） ，加上大量 無證件無國籍人口湧現，使這個當下的政治問題極具爭 議性。
除了以上問題，在氣候變化和人類世，社區及其可
于一蘭