CUI YUXUAN
Documentary Photography, Place, Journey
Space, Narrative, Installation
Info/Bio
Instagram©2024 Cui Yuxuan
2020-2021
Archival Inkjet Print, photographic film
My hometown, Changchun, was once the capital of "Manchukuo". In early 2020, I accidentally discovered the site of the "Kwantung Army Underground Command Center" near my home, which took me back to that period of colonial history. I began to wonder how many relics of Manchukuo were hidden, and in what status or form they continued to exist in our daily lives.
我的故乡长春，曾经是伪满洲国的国都。2020年年初，我在居住地附近偶然发现了“关东军地下指挥部”的遗址，这让我的思绪重返那段殖民历史。我开始好奇伪满遗迹究竟以多么庞大的体量隐匿在我们的日常生活中，又以何种身份、何种形态继续存在。
At the beginning of my work, I conducted field research using the methods of Modernology, combining official documents, folk images, and other materials. The state of the sites continuously reshaped my understanding. This modern city, systematically planned and constructed during the colonial period, has undergone a long process of decolonization — government buildings and commercial centers alternately repurposed by power and capital, ruins hidden behind fences, temples transformed by ideology, sculptures shattered by the public, and steles that have completely disappeared. These elements, like containers, are constantly filled, grafted, and reshaped by collective memories. This cyclical process of overlaying and accumulating history creates what Aleida Assmann calls the "simultaneity of the non-simultaneous."
创作初期，我以考现学的方式，结合官方文献、民间图像等素材进行田野调查，而现场的状态不断重塑着我的认知。这座在殖民期间被系统规划和建设的现代化都市，经历了漫长的去殖民化实践——被权力机关和资本交替利用的政府大楼和商厦，被围栏遮掩的废墟和被意识形态改造的庙宇，被群众砸烂的雕塑和彻底销声匿迹的石碑……它们如同容器一般，不断被集体记忆填充、嫁接、重塑。记忆循环往复地覆盖、沉积，使历史本身层层相叠，形成了一种阿莱达·阿斯曼所说的“非共时的共时性”。
“I started near my home,
where there's a meticulously landscaped small park.
When I first moved there,
it was a desolate ditch, overgrown with weeds
and scattered with many concrete blocks.
The land was fenced off by long blue corrugated iron sheets,
with a gap in the middle.
Through the gap, you could starkly see
a large marble monument with the inscription
"Site of the Japan's Kwantung Army's Nanling Underground Command Center".
This area used to be a storage facility for chemical weapons of the Japanese Kwantung Army,
and many underground structures were built here by “Manchuria Exploit Group”.
It is said that after the Liberation Army took over,
they found many bottles and cans containing dark or black substances underground,
some even emitting poisonous gas.
Later, this place was temporarily used as a military arsenal.
Six or seven years after I moved in,
the wasteland was developed into a park,
and the earthworks emerged from the weeds and wild grass.
On the day of filming, it had just rained,
and dirty water was flowing out of the earthworks.
I felt like the city had been torn open,
with history slowly revealing its interior to me.”
where there's a meticulously landscaped small park.
When I first moved there,
it was a desolate ditch, overgrown with weeds
and scattered with many concrete blocks.
The land was fenced off by long blue corrugated iron sheets,
with a gap in the middle.
Through the gap, you could starkly see
a large marble monument with the inscription
"Site of the Japan's Kwantung Army's Nanling Underground Command Center".
This area used to be a storage facility for chemical weapons of the Japanese Kwantung Army,
and many underground structures were built here by “Manchuria Exploit Group”.
It is said that after the Liberation Army took over,
they found many bottles and cans containing dark or black substances underground,
some even emitting poisonous gas.
Later, this place was temporarily used as a military arsenal.
Six or seven years after I moved in,
the wasteland was developed into a park,
and the earthworks emerged from the weeds and wild grass.
On the day of filming, it had just rained,
and dirty water was flowing out of the earthworks.
I felt like the city had been torn open,
with history slowly revealing its interior to me.”
“我从家附近开始，
那里有一个被精心修整过的小公园。
当我第一次搬到那儿的时候，
它还是一个荒凉的地沟，
杂草丛生，横陈着许多水泥混凝土块。
这块土地被长长的蓝色铁皮围挡着，铁皮中间有一个豁口，
从豁口穿过去，会赫然看到一块大理石碑，
上面写着“日军南岭地下司令所遗址”。
这里曾经是日本关东军存储化学武器的仓库，
当年日本开拓团在这里修建了许多地下工事。
据说解放军分区在接管之后，
发现地下还有很多装着深色、黑色物质的瓶瓶罐罐，
有的甚至冒出了毒气，再后来这里就临时充作了军械库。
我搬过来六七年后，荒地被开发成了公园，
土方从蒿子和野草中显露出来。
拍摄的那天刚刚下过雨，土方中流出了汩汩的污水。
我感到城市被撕开了口子，
历史慢慢向我袒露出它的内部。”
那里有一个被精心修整过的小公园。
当我第一次搬到那儿的时候，
它还是一个荒凉的地沟，
杂草丛生，横陈着许多水泥混凝土块。
这块土地被长长的蓝色铁皮围挡着，铁皮中间有一个豁口，
从豁口穿过去，会赫然看到一块大理石碑，
上面写着“日军南岭地下司令所遗址”。
这里曾经是日本关东军存储化学武器的仓库，
当年日本开拓团在这里修建了许多地下工事。
据说解放军分区在接管之后，
发现地下还有很多装着深色、黑色物质的瓶瓶罐罐，
有的甚至冒出了毒气，再后来这里就临时充作了军械库。
我搬过来六七年后，荒地被开发成了公园，
土方从蒿子和野草中显露出来。
拍摄的那天刚刚下过雨，土方中流出了汩汩的污水。
我感到城市被撕开了口子，
历史慢慢向我袒露出它的内部。”
Based on the research, I attempted to perceive the current situation of Changchun, a post-colonial city, from the perspective of private emotion and aesthetics. Some relics of Manchukuo have long been integrated into the daily lives of city residents. The desolate “State foundation martyrs shrine” is a place where the old and young from the nearby military family community play during their leisure time. In the open, weed-covered area outside the East Hongwanji Temple, my father and I reconnect with our youth. The Bushido training ground in Jimmu Temple has been transformed into a stage and cinema, surrounded by noisy but pleasant bands of elderly people, while the pine trees and weeds growing freely in the ruins, along with the building's fading traces, form poetic aesthetics. These ordinary situations are intricately intertwined with colonial history and ideology. I aim to trace and capture the hybridity that has not yet been publicly acknowledged and accepted. In my view, these relics are not only cultural repositories of collective memory but also distinct landmarks that I can trace back to my personal and family life experience.
在调研基础上，我尝试从私人情感和美学角度感知长春这一后殖民城市当下的处境。部分伪满遗迹早已和城市居民的日常生活融为一体。萧索的建国忠灵庙外是军属小区老幼闲暇时的游玩之地；东本愿寺外空旷的杂草地上，我与父辈在此地与少年时代重逢；神武殿的武士道训练场被改建成舞台和影院，周围的老年乐队喧闹而怡然，遗迹中自在生长的松枝野草和建筑自身不断褪淡的痕迹形成了一种诗意美学。这些日常情境与殖民历史和意识形态复杂交织，我想要追索和捕捉的，恰是一种尚未（且难以）被公开承认和接纳的混杂性。在我眼中，这些遗迹并不只是储存集体记忆的文化仓库，也是可供我个人和家庭回溯生命体验的鲜明地标。
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Installation View