田野笔记 / Fieldnote



神山之下 / Beneath the Sacred Mountain


 陈嘉诚  /  CHEN Jiacheng
 中国云南德钦  /   Déqên, Yunnan, China




09-09-2023

当天中午抵达丽江,回到了阔别八年的云南大地。

对于来自东部平原地区的人而言,丽江是迈上滇西北藏区的理想入口。其海拔高度为2400多米,对于驻地雾浓顶村3600多米的海拔高度而言,会是一个合理的高原反应缓冲地带。同时,丽江具备一种生了根的多民族性,可以让一个汉人在这里先开始文化心理上的“去中心化”。

当然,在丽江古城还有一项工作任务,就是购买东巴纸。东巴纸虽为纳西族的文化遗产,但其植物原材料(荛花树皮)和接近 欧洲造纸法的制作思维都与中原地区有很大不同。这种“少数派”“非主流”的调性,颇合这次驻地创作的心态,于是想把它用作绘画的纸本。

Arriving in Lijiang at noon that day, I returned to the land of Yunnan after eight long years since the last visit.

For someone from the eastern plains, Lijiang is an ideal gateway to the Tibetan region of northwestern Yunnan. At an altitude of over 2,400 meters, it serves as a reasonable buffer zone for acclimatization to the higher elevation of the village where I would stay—Wunongding, which sits above 3,600 meters. Moreover, Lijiang possesses a deeply rooted multi-ethnic character, offering a Han Chinese like me an opportunity to begin a cultural and psychological process of "decentralization."

Of course, there was also a practical task in Lijiang’s ancient town: purchasing Dongba paper. Although Dongba paper is part of the cultural heritage of the Naxi people, its plant-based raw material (the bark of the Wikstroemia tree) and its production method, which resembles European papermaking, differ greatly from traditional techniques in the Zhongyuan Area (where I come from). This "minority" and "non-mainstream" quality resonated with the attitude of my residency project, and I planned to use it as the paper for my paintings.

东巴纸商店 The Store that Sells Dongba Paper

买到的纸制品 Acquired Paper Products

10-09-2023

早上9点的大巴车,奔赴德钦。一路上随着愈发频繁出现的羊群和青稞架,藏区也越来越近了。行前一直在读有关卡瓦格博山难的故事,车上也听到一众徒步客讲述自己曾经的冒险之旅,以及与藏民互动的故事。自从2000年后,梅里雪山已经禁止攀登,如今“征服卡瓦格博”的念头也许在户外探险者的脑海中已经无从冒起。

6个半小时后,到达德钦,迈入既下山酒店受到礼遇。来到酒店四楼观景,不出所料梅里雪山的山脊隐匿在一片白色中,远远望去已分不清云雾和冰雪的界限。晚上酒店放映惊悚纪录片《卡瓦格博》,介绍的就是1991年的山难和后续的搜寻故事。现场有穿着登山服的观众,一边看一边依偎在爱人的身旁默默流泪。

窗外的格桑花静静盛放。

At 9 AM, I boarded the coach heading for Déqên. Along the way, the increasingly frequent sightings of grazing sheep and barley-drying racks signaled that we were drawing nearer to the Tibetan region. Before the trip, I had been reading stories about the mountaineering disaster on Kawagarbo, and on the bus, I listened to a group of hikers sharing their own past adventures and interactions with the local Tibetans. Since 2000, climbing has been prohibited on the Meri Snow Mountain. Today, the idea of "conquering Kawagarbo" likely no longer arises in the minds of outdoor adventurers.

Six and a half hours later, I arrived in Déqên and was warmly received upon entering the Sunyata Hotel. Heading up to the fourth floor of the hotel for a view, as expected, the ridges of the Meri Snow Mountain were shrouded in a blanket of white clouds; from a distance, it was impossible to distinguish where the clouds ended and the ice and snow began. In the evening, the hotel screened the thrilling documentary Kawagarbo, which recounts the 1991 mountaineering tragedy and the subsequent search and recovery efforts. Among the audience were some dressed in climbing gear, who watched while nestled against their loved ones, silently shedding tears.

Outside the window, the gesang flowers were quietly in full bloom.


路上看到的羊群 Sheep Herd Seen on the Road


盛放的格桑花 Gesang Flowers in Full Bloom



11-09-2023
早餐后,去雾浓顶村观景台考察白塔,第一次看到了煨桑炉。下午和旅行管家彭措前往曲登阁,第一次知道藏地的建筑会在其外墙上浇筑石灰水,来给宗教建筑加上外衣,手一摸还是湿的,看来是早晨新鲜淋上的。

来到飞来寺,除了目睹诸位法师先贤,最难忘的还是纪念佛教大师的各种塔。说着看到不远处山上的白塔,彭措和我又驱车前往。听他说,白塔或佛塔又名曲丁,里面一般放家里旧物,内有香柏木矗立其中,要保持树木东南西北方向不变,所以是平移进来的。

经幡挂在树林间,在风中隐隐作响,而这种貌似凌乱的状态却不影响纪念的神圣感。可能这种缠绕和胶着本身即是常态,也许反映了藏地对于“圣洁”的理解与现代社会有很大不同。

After breakfast, I went to the viewing platform at Wunongding Village to see the white stupa and saw incense burning stoves for the first time. In the afternoon, I visited Qudeng Pavilion with my travel steward, Puncog, where I learned that Tibetan architecture often involves pouring limewater over the outer walls of religious structures, almost like dressing them in a fresh coat. Touching it, the wall was still damp—likely freshly poured that morning.

Arriving at Feilai Temple, aside from witnessing the statues of revered masters and sages, the most unforgettable sights were the various stupas commemorating Buddhist masters. Noticing a white stupa on a distant hillside, Puncog and I drove over to see it. He explained that a white stupa, or Buddhist pagoda, is also called a “chodten.” Inside, families often place old belongings, and a fragrant cedarwood pillar stands at the center. To maintain the tree’s original orientation—aligned with the four cardinal directions—it is carefully moved in without rotation.

Prayer flags hung among the trees, rustling faintly in the wind. Their seemingly untidy arrangement did nothing to diminish the sacredness of the memorial. Perhaps this kind of entanglement and interweaving is itself a natural state, reflecting how Tibetans understand “holiness” in ways that may differ greatly from modern society.

浇石灰水的藏族人 The Tibetan Pouring Limewater


向导彭措与白塔 The Guide Puncog by the White Stupa



12-09-2023
早晨小雨,临时改变行程,和我的新向导吉登穿行雾浓顶村。一路上牛羊在漫游,庄稼在生长。穿过挂满露水的野草小道,往侧一瞥,撞见曾经供奉佛像的石座。当年佛头沉没、神迹降临又飞走,只留浓雾依旧盘桓在这座山顶上:藏语和汉字的音与意,于此处此景各得其所。

雾浓顶下,风卷山岚,自己曾经作过的一幅山水画仿佛幻化为现实。

In the mild morning rain, the travel plans was changed for walking inside the Wunongding* Village with my new guide, Choten. Along the path, cattle and sheep roamed leisurely while crops grew in the fields. Walking along a narrow trail lined with dew-covered wild grass, I glanced to the side and caught sight of a stone pedestal that once held a Buddha statue. Long ago, the Buddha’s head had sunk into the earth, divine signs had descended and vanished, yet the thick mist still lingered over this mountaintop. Here, both the original Tibetan name and the transliterated Mandarin characters were well suited to the scene in sound and meaning.

Below Wunongding, the wind swept through the morning mist, bringing into reality a Shanshui painting that I made in the United States.

*Wunongding, the transliterated Mandarin words stands for “the mountaintop of heavy mist” in Chinese, which means “Buddha’s head” in Tibetan ( དབུ་ནག་སྟེང ).






13-09-2023
今日天气出乎意料地好,是远观梅里雪山各山峰的好机会。借用酒店四楼的望远镜,可以远眺缅茨姆峰(神女峰)和卡瓦格博峰。在手机和望远镜镜头的临时拼凑下,晃动的双手不可避免地使捕捉成像变得困难,导致花了很久时间瞄准。

借助望远镜机器所成的影像无疑显化了观看行为的意图感。在光学技术的加持下,这是一种具有现代感的凝视:身体不用靠近风景,自而可以借助仪器把远方收入瞳孔。

比较之下,转山的信徒们会是什么眼光呢?没有镜头带来的方便也没有镜头带来的遮蔽,唯有勤勤恳恳地以裸眼视之。而那些殁于雪崩的登山队员呢?恐怕是登顶之后,环顾四周一览众山小的快意吧。

The weather today is surprisingly clear, offering an excellent opportunity to view the distant peaks of the Meri Snow Mountain. Using the telescope on the fourth floor of the hotel, one can glimpse the Mianzimu Peak (Goddess Peak) and Kawagarbo Peak in the distance. With a makeshift setup of a smart phone and telescope lens, shaky hands inevitably made the process of capturing the image more difficult than ever, which took quite some time to aim the mountain peaks.

The images produced by the telescope undoubtedly highlight the deliberateness of the act of viewing. Enhanced by the optics technology, this is a modern form of gazing: the body need not approach the landscape, as the instrument brings the distant view into the pupil.

In contrast, what kind of gaze might pilgrims on the circumambulation journey hold? Without the convenience or obstruction of a lens, they rely diligently on the naked eye. And what of the climbers lost in the avalanche? Perhaps, upon reaching the summit, their eyes would be filled with the exhilarating sight of all peaks lying beneath their feet.





14-09-2023
今天正好是释迦牟尼加持日,和彭措、嘉措二位向导一早去飞来寺考察煨桑仪式。拍完一圈照片,嘉措递来一把香柏枝和一小袋谷子,让我也煨一煨。看着灰白色的桑烟从炉底弥漫、升腾、上天,与低空的云朵混合,这分明是藏人用自己的仪式行为和高原的云雾做一场饶有余韵的游戏。

离开飞来寺,前往明永冰川。据说几年前旅游热度超高的明永冰川景区近来被雨崩村替代了。三人小分队沿栈道爬山,但栈道不时被坠石砸断,所幸古道在旁可以切换。爬得再高,也会陡然发现寺庙早已在上等候。太子拉康和莲华拉康的金顶在雪山前熠熠发光,在蓝天的映衬下显得格外有“人工感”。墨色的冰也许不符合游客对冰川纯净的期待,但仔细观察,墨色的冰层下有透出亮青的本色,以及从冰川底部潺潺流出的融水。于是就在寺院经幡的包围中,静静聆听远处不时传来的冰暴声。

冰川在逐年的后退中呈现季节性的前后移动,这种景观演变的反复性之前在研究桂林的岩溶地貌时也有出现。91年山难的队员尸体在明永冰川被发现,根据登山家小林尚礼的推算,明永冰川的流速为每年200-500米之间,而每月的水平流速为32米/月。

作为一名艺术家,“人”作为景观时空的衡量者,一直是我的创作兴趣之一。万万没想到在山难的故事里,人的身体会以如此令人惊骇的方式成为估测气候变化影响的标尺。

Today happens to be Sakyamuni Buddha’s Blessing Day. Early in the morning, I went with my guides Puncog and Gyatso to Feilai Temple to observe the sang (incense) offering ritual. After taking a round of photos, Gyatso handed me a bundle of cedar branches and a small bag of grains, inviting me to join the offering. Watching the grayish-white smoke rising from the burner, drifting upward, and merging with the low-hanging clouds, it felt as if Tibetans were engaging in a poetic game—interweaving their ritual gestures with the mist and clouds of the high plateau.

Leaving Feilai Temple, we headed toward the Mingyong Glacier. It is said that Mingyong Glacier, once an extremely popular tourist site, has recently been overshadowed by the fame of Yubeng Village. Our small fellowship of three hiked along the boardwalk trail, though sections of which were occasionally broken by fallen rocks. Fortunately, an old path ran parallel, allowing us to switch routes when needed. No matter how high we climbed, we would suddenly notice that temples had long been waiting above us. The golden roofs of Taizi Lhakhang and Lotus Lhakhang shone brilliantly against the snowy peaks, standing out with an almost “artificial” glow under the blue sky.

The dark-colored ice may not align with tourists’ expectations of pristine glaciers, but upon closer inspection, the underlying layers revealed a translucent bluish-green hue, while meltwater trickled steadily from the glacier’s base. Surrounded by prayer flags near the temple, I listened quietly to the occasional rumble of ice collapsing in the distance.

Glaciers, while gradually receding over the years, still exhibit seasonal shifts in their forward and backward movements. This kind of cyclical landscape transformation is something I had previously encountered while studying the karst topography of Guilin. The remains of the climbers from the 1991 disaster were discovered on the Mingyong Glacier. According to mountaineer Shōri Kobayashi’s estimation, the Mingyong Glacier flows at a rate of 200–500 meters per year, with a monthly horizontal movement of about 32 meters.

As an artist, I have long been interested in how “human” acts as the measurer of time and space within landscapes. Yet it never occurred to me that, in the story of this mountaineering tragedy, human bodies would become such a startling measure for estimating the impacts of climate change.

纪录煨桑仪式 Recording the Incense Offering Ritual (credit: Gyatso)


砸坏栈道的石块 The Stone that Breaks the Boardwalk


抵达明永冰川前需要先经过一片干热河谷  Before reaching the Mingyong Glacier, one must first pass through a dry-hot river valley.


明永冰川 The Mingyong Glacier






与两位藏族向导在太子拉康前合影 The Group Photo with Two Tibetan Guides in front of the Taizi Lhakhang


15-09-2023
昨天还惊讶于这里云雾可以如此水平,与竦峙的山峰形状形成了神奇的呼应,今天又在早秋一天的光阴里,见证了云雾的多变:

早上,绒毯一样的云层将山峰锁在视线之上,腰线以下的部分倒能清晰地看到,想想看不到我们的山峰也会寂寞的吧;

中午,乌云或飘走或稀释,白云朵朵挺立于山与天之间,山顶露出全貌;

傍晚,乌云漫开、雷电交加,飘向梅里雪山的西侧,据说在附近的白马雪山引起了几起火灾。当地消防部门相信阵雨可以扑灭,不用过分担心。

Yesterday, I was still amazed by how the mist and clouds could spread so horizontally, creating a mystical interplay with the towering mountain peaks. Today, within the span of an early autumn day, I witnessed the ever-changing nature of the clouds and fog.

In the morning, a blanket-like layer of clouds concealed the mountaintops from view, though the slopes below remained clearly visible. It made me wonder if the hidden peaks might feel lonely, unseen by us.

By noon, the dark clouds had either drifted away or thinned out, replaced by white clouds standing distinctly between the mountains and the sky, fully revealing the summits.

In the evening, dark clouds spread across the sky, accompanied by thunder and lightning, drifting toward the western side of the Meri Snow Mountain. It is said that it has triggered several wildfires in the nearby Baima* Snow Mountain. Local fire departments believe passing showers will help extinguish them, so there is no need for excessive worry.

*Baima, stands for “white horse”.


两天里的云雾变化 The Cloud and Mist Changed Within Two Days



16-09-2023
带来的水笔,因为气压的原因悉数“爆管”。前两天下午去德钦的新华书店买墨水,准备在东巴纸上创作,寻觅这几天对于雾与烟的感受。在酒店的会议室翻阅资料,继续完善驻地结束前需要做的公共讲座:《寻山觅川》。
The pens that I brought all burst due to air pressure. In the afternoon two days ago, I went to the Xinhua Bookstore in Déqên for some ink, planning to use it for new works on Dongba paper. I wanted to capture the impressions of mist and smoke I’ve gathered over these past few days. In the hotel meeting room, I reviewed materials and continued refining the public lecture named Seeking for Mountains and Rivers.



17-09-2023
上午写完了PPT,于是趁着下午最后的机会和吉登去了白马雪山徒步,也亲眼看一下之前在明永冰川时没有留意到的丽江云杉。

徒步穿越的地带也是藏民的夏季牧场,沿途相伴左右的高山植物伫立在各自的位置上,棵棵分明,摇曳生姿,没有一般南方植物群落所常见的那种混融交错。这也许是高海拔所带来的分寸感吧。

之前阅读有关煨桑的研究文献,不得不感叹这实在是一个古老且神奇的仪式。云南优渥的地理条件让煨桑的材料和环节可以十分丰富,仪轨中所显露的观念也更加多样化。

I finished my PowerPoint in the morning and took advantage of the last opportunity in the afternoon to hike around Baima Snow Mountain with Choten, hoping to also spot the Lijiang spruce in person—something I hadn’t noticed during my earlier visit to the Mingyong Glacier.

The area I trekked through serves as a summer pasture for Tibetan herders. Along the way, alpine plants stood in their own distinct spaces, each clearly separate yet swaying gracefully, without the interweaving situation often seen in the plant communities of southern China. Perhaps this sense of  propriety and distance is a gift of high altitude.

Having read research literature on the incense offering ritual before, I couldn’t help but marvel at how ancient and mystical this practice truly is. Yunnan’s favorable geographical conditions allow for rich variety in both materials and steps of the ritual, and the underlying concepts revealed in its procedures are notably diverse.

丽江云杉 Lijiang Spruce


云杉年轮 The Tree Rings of Spruce


向导吉登 Trekking Guide Choten




18-09-2023
早晨10点坐大巴离开德钦,没有多余的不舍,总感觉还会回来。

作为驻地之旅的尾声,独克宗古城是当晚的参观点。天色已晚,走进一家唐卡画院,和里面的画师聊一聊艺术。画作不可拍照,似乎维持了一种神圣性。

在数码复制时代,实体绘画的物质性让图像保有“原作”的地位,使亲身观看的经验弥足珍贵。禁止摄影的规定,也让图像牢牢地属于它的画布和它所在的地点。可惜当年香格里拉的一场大火,湮灭了画院里原来存有的诸多画作。未被储存的很多图像,就在原地化为灰烬,碳化物上依稀可见原画的金箔残留。离开画院已将近11点,地平线早已消失在夜幕中。

不远处,大佛寺的巨形转经筒在射灯的照耀下愈发吃力地转动着,不知还有哪几个游客在推。

At 10 a.m., I took the bus and left Déqên without much feeling of reluctance—somehow, I felt I would return someday.

As the final stop of the residency journey, the ancient town of Dorkhar City was the destination for the evening. As dusk fell, I stepped into a Thangka painting studio and chatted with the artists inside about art. Photography was not allowed, a rule that seemed to maintain a sense of sacredness.

In this age of digital reproduction, the materiality of physical painting preserves the status of the image as an “original,” making the experience of seeing it in person truly precious. The prohibition on photography also ensures that the image remains firmly tied to its canvas and its location. Sadly, a great fire in Shangri-La years ago destroyed many of the paintings once housed in this studio. Countless images, never digitally preserved, turned to ashes on the spot, with traces of gold leaf from the original works faintly visible on the charred remains. By the time I left the studio, it was almost 11 p.m., and the horizon had long vanished into the night.

Not far away, the giant prayer wheel at the Great Buddha Temple rotated with increasing effort under the glow of spotlights—I wondered how many visitors were still pushing it at this hour.

大火后的画作灰烬 The Painting Ashes after the Great Fire


右侧为古城内的巨型转经筒 On the Right Stands the Giant Prayer Wheel




尾 声  /Epilogue
在香格里拉的独克宗古城,我登上城北的公园,望着山间环抱的如牦牛群一样的楼房。连绵的屋脊在暗示它2014年大火之前的样子,和周围的山地一起绵延,与初来时丽江时看到的情景颇为相似。

这挤凑的屋顶,形成绝非一朝一夕,而是人类在此聚居繁衍、内部微调的结果。它们好像四周山脉在的平原的延伸,人流攒动,形成了自己独特的地貌。

当太阳一点点沉下去,城里的灯火就会一点点亮起来。

In the ancient Dorkhar City in Shangri-La, I climbed up to the park on the northern side of the town. Looking out at the cluster of rooftops nestled among the mountains—like a herd of yaks. The continuous rooftops hinted at its appearance before the great fire in 2014, stretching along with the surrounding mountains in a manner quite reminiscent of what I saw when I first arrived in Lijiang.

These densely packed rooftops were not shaped overnight. They are the outcome of long-term human settlement, growth, and subtle, internal adaptations over time. Like an extension of the surrounding mountains onto the plain, the constant flow of people has shaped this place into its own distinctive topography.

As the sun dipped bit by bit below the horizon, the lights of the town would gradually be glowing up.

独克宗古城与丽江古城的屋顶地貌 The Roof Topography of Dorkhar City and Lijiang City







在地文化发现 Local Discoveries




洗手台

在进入丽江古城时即可见到,随后贯穿了在藏地的一路旅程,在各个煨桑台或者寺院门口都有。洗手台的存在既是政策鼓励的结果,也会促发当地文化中关于“清洁”的观念,在云南形成一种跨民族、跨地区的文化现象。

Handwashing Station

These can be seen upon entering Lijiang’s ancient town and continue to appear throughout journeys across Tibetan regions, often found near incense offering platforms or at the entrances of monasteries. The presence of handwashing stations is both a result of policy encouragement and an element that resonates with local concepts of “cleanliness,” forming a cross-ethnic, cross-regional cultural phenomenon in Yunnan.





寄魂柱


曲登阁旁一丛丛的“寄魂柱”,据说寄托的是家中长辈对孩辈的祝福。这种累积生长的石灰体也可能依附于宗教建筑上,在与人的互动中不断生长。这不仅反映了一种与汉地颇为不同的建筑表皮观,也和现代审美理念中对于“简约”的追求相去甚远。

Soul-Hosting Pillars

Clustered beside Qudeng Pavilion are rows of "soul-hosting pillars," said to carry the blessings of elders for their children. These accumulated, growing lime structures can also attach themselves to religious buildings, expanding through human interaction. This not only reflects a view of architectural surfaces quite different from that of Han Chinese regions but also stands far removed from the modern aesthetic pursuit of "simplicity."




顺时针

藏地对宗教场所的转行方向有明确的规定,而转行的对象可谓丰富,小到转经筒,大到神山,以及处于其间的玛尼堆、煨桑炉、白塔、寺院等,都须遵守顺时针的行走方向。在学者郭净看来,藏民转山就代表一种水平运动,与当年雄心勃勃的登山队所追求的向上运动观念迥异。这种在空间上回到原点,在时间上迈向轮回的运动观,已逐渐沉淀为一种集体心理上的在地文化。

Clockwise Direction

In Tibetan regions, there is a clear rule regarding the direction of circumambulation at religious sites, and the objects of such practice are diverse—ranging from small prayer wheels to sacred mountains, as well as intermediate structures like mani stone piles, incense offering burners, white stupas, and monasteries. All must be walked around in clockwise direction. In the view of scholar Guo Jing, Tibetans' practice of circumambulating mountains represents a form of horizontal movement, which stands in stark contrast to the upward-striving mindset of ambitious mountaineering teams in the past. This perspective of movement—spatially returning to the starting point while progressing toward samsara in time—has gradually solidified into a form of local culture rooted in collective psychology.





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