Oil Painting on canvas ，30x40 cm, 7/23/2025
超越形式的凝視：一場關於存在與覺醒的視覺默想
文：林若塵
A Gaze Beyond Form: A Visual Meditation on Being and Awakening
by Ruòchén Lin (July 23, 2025)
這幅作品不僅是視覺上的呈現，更像是一則無聲的寓言，召喚觀者走入一場內在的旅程。在這場旅程中，物象不只是形式的再現，而是存在本身的隱喻。中央的階梯成為靈魂向上攀升的徑道，象徵人類不懈地追尋意義、理解與存在的本質。這樣的構圖不禁讓人聯想到文藝復興時期對於人類中心主義與精神昇華的追求，彷彿布魯內萊斯基（Brunelleschi）式的透視法，在幾何精準中開啟對神性與內在秩序的凝視。
階梯不僅引導視線向上，也召喚觀者的心靈向上。這種垂直的延展帶有中世紀哥德式教堂的精神意涵，在高聳建築中引導人心仰望神祇，如今轉化為心靈的冥想空間。它彷彿在問：我們是否願意穿越現實的平面，走向更高層次的意識？
開放的天窗與湧入的光線，仿若一種來自「彼岸」的召喚。這種來自外部的啟示性之光，也讓人想起卡拉瓦喬（Caravaggio）筆下那具有戲劇張力的明暗對比（chiaroscuro）——光不再只是自然現象，而成為神性、真理、甚至救贖的象徵。畫面中的藍天與金黃色調彼此對話，在冷靜與溫暖之間構築出一種存在的張力，讓人意識到：真理與安慰從不是對立，而是並存於生命的複調之中。這種色彩的對位，也可回溯至象徵主義畫家如莫羅（Gustave Moreau）與克林姆（Klimt）的作品中，色彩不僅傳達感官，更承載精神與神秘性的渴望。
燭光的出現則更進一步深化了這場哲思之旅。它宛如一顆不願熄滅的內在明燈，微弱卻堅定，在幽暗處發出柔和而執著的光。這是對浪漫主義繪畫中「內在火焰」的延續，例如透納（J. M. W. Turner）筆下燃燒的自然景象，往往隱喻人心中的激情與信仰。而這裡的燭光，則是靜默中的堅持與凝視，象徵靈魂面對世界時那種不被撼動的微光。
門後隱隱可見的影像，也許正是我們對未來、對潛意識、對未知自我的渴望投影。這樣的結構性模糊，與超現實主義畫家馬格利特（René Magritte）那種「觀看即懷疑」的視覺邏輯不謀而合——它不揭示答案，而是留下提問。觀者在觀看中被迫成為詮釋者，進入一場感知與潛意識的雙重戲劇。
整體構圖彷彿一座隱喻建構的迷宮。透視與空間不只是視覺技法，更是一種存在的結構：每一階梯、每一道門、每一片光影都訴說著生命如何從平凡的當下逐步走向超越的可能。這使人聯想到德‧契里柯（Giorgio de Chirico）的形上繪畫，建築與空間超脫實境，成為思考與等待的劇場。而那扇圓弧形的門，就像是一道界線，既是進入也是退出，既是界限也是通道——它迫使我們思考，哪裡才是真正的「內部」，而我們，又是否已經在門內？
色彩在畫中被賦予形而上的角色。暖橘與冷藍的交錯，象徵心靈狀態的二元性：溫柔與冷峻、希望與現實、安定與追尋。這種平衡之下的衝突，是觀看時最動人心魄的地方——因為它讓我們看見了生命的複雜與真實。此種情感的流動，也可見於羅斯科（Mark
Rothko）的色域畫中，他以色塊對話心靈，使畫面成為沈思的空間而非僅是圖像。
最後，留白不只是技術性的空間安排，而是一種沉默的智慧。這樣的留白處理，在東亞水墨傳統中早已深入哲學：虛空不是空無，而是容納萬象的所在。在西方，這種懸置與未說出的力量，亦可與現代主義中的極簡語彙呼應，如阿道夫·洛斯（Adolf Loos）或唐納德·賈德（Donald Judd）強調「少即是多」的觀念。畫作的空白成為觀看與詮釋的起點，而非結束。
這幅作品是一面鏡子，也是一扇窗。在凝視它的過程中，觀者其實是在凝視自身。從文藝復興的透視結構、象徵主義的光影隱喻、到現代藝術的心理空間，畫作彷彿串起了藝術史中的多重語彙，最終將視覺轉化為心靈的劇場。它不給答案，而是創造一種沉靜的場域，讓觀者能在其中傾聽內在的聲音。在這樣一幅深具時間層次的作品中，藝術不再只是再現現實的手段，而成為一場存在與感知的永恆對話。
A Gaze Beyond Form: A Visual Meditation on Being and Awakening
by Ruòchén Lin(July 23, 2025)
This work is not merely a visual presentation—it is more akin to a silent parable, summoning the viewer into an inward journey. In this journey, objects are not mere representations of form, but metaphors of existence itself. The central staircase becomes a path for the soul’s ascent, symbolizing humanity’s tireless pursuit of meaning, understanding, and the essence of being. The composition inevitably recalls the Renaissance pursuit of humanism and spiritual elevation—like a Brunelleschian perspective, where geometric precision opens a gaze toward divinity and inner order.
The staircase not only guides the eye upward; it also beckons the spirit to rise. This vertical extension carries the spiritual symbolism of Gothic cathedrals, which, through their soaring architecture, directed the human heart to look toward the divine. Here, that gesture is transformed into a space for spiritual contemplation. It seems to ask: are we willing to cross the flat surface of reality and step into a higher level of awareness?
The open skylight and the stream of light pouring in feel like a call from the “other shore.” This revelatory light, emerging from outside the frame, evokes the dramatic chiaroscuro of Caravaggio—where light is no longer just a natural phenomenon but becomes a symbol of divinity, truth, and even redemption. The dialogue between the blue sky and golden hues constructs a tension of existence between cool serenity and warm comfort, reminding us that truth and solace are not opposites but coexist in the polyphony of life. This color interplay harks back to Symbolist painters like Gustave Moreau and Klimt, where color transcends sensory experience and bears spiritual and mystical longing.
The appearance of candlelight deepens this philosophical journey. It is like an inner flame that refuses to be extinguished—faint yet unwavering—casting a gentle, persistent glow in the darkness. This continues the Romantic tradition of the “inner fire,” such as Turner’s burning natural landscapes, often metaphors for human passion and belief. Here, the candlelight becomes a quiet insistence and gaze—a flicker of unwavering soul in the face of the world.
The faint image behind the door may be a projection of our longing for the future, for the subconscious, for the unknown self. This structural ambiguity aligns with the visual logic of Surrealist René Magritte—"to see is to doubt." The painting reveals no answers; it leaves questions. The viewer, through the act of seeing, is compelled to become the interpreter—entering a dual drama of perception and the unconscious.
The overall composition resembles a labyrinth built of metaphors. Perspective and space are not just visual techniques—they are ontological structures: each stair, each door, each patch of light and shadow tells how life moves step by step from the ordinary present toward transcendence. It brings to mind Giorgio de Chirico’s metaphysical paintings, where architecture and space detach from reality and become stages of thought and anticipation. That arched doorway, for instance, is a threshold—both entrance and exit, boundary and passage. It forces us to consider: where is the true "inside"? And have we already crossed into it?
Color in this painting assumes a metaphysical role. The interplay of warm orange and cool blue symbolizes the duality of inner states: tenderness and severity, hope and reality, stillness and seeking. This conflict within balance is what most deeply moves the viewer—for it reveals the complexity and truth of life. Such emotional resonance is echoed in the color field paintings of Mark Rothko, who used color blocks to speak to the soul, transforming the canvas into a space for meditation rather than mere image.
Finally, the use of negative space is not just a technical arrangement—it is a kind of silent wisdom. In East Asian ink painting, this concept of "emptiness" has long been philosophical: void is not absence, but the place that holds all things. In the West, this sense of suspension and the power of the unsaid finds echoes in modernist minimalism—in the ethos of “less is more,” as seen in the works of Adolf Loos or Donald Judd. The blank space in the painting becomes not the end of interpretation, but its beginning.
This painting is both a mirror and a window. In gazing at it, the viewer is in fact gazing at themselves. From Renaissance perspective structures, to Symbolist light metaphors, to the psychological spaces of modern art, the work weaves together multiple visual languages from across art history, ultimately transforming sight into a theater of the soul. It offers no answers; instead, it creates a silent field where the viewer may hear their own inner voice. In a work so deeply layered in time, art ceases to be a mere reproduction of reality and becomes an eternal dialogue between being and perception.
