Chen Zhe has been documenting her self-harm process with a camera from 2007 to the present, a span of four years. These photographs are titled "Bearable."
One of these photographs depicts an arm bathed in warm light amidst surrounding darkness, stretching out at the center of the frame. The close-up self-portrait creates a sense of distortion, making the arm appear elongated, reaching towards an unknowable distance. Countless fresh cuts cover the arm, clearly made with an extremely sharp and thin blade, still oozing blood that glistens under the light. This is her birthday commemoration.
When my eyes met this photograph, my heart ached. It was as if a thorn grew from the picture, piercing through my eyes and into my heart. Initially, it seemed "unbearable," and I almost wanted to look away and escape. Yet, I soon found myself gripped by this "unbearable" experience, unable to turn away, even drawn to it. In that moment of "unbearableness," my heart was entangled in tension, anxiety, frustration, and pain. It felt as though the wounds were carved into my own arm. Once the initial pain subsided, the photograph became "bearable." And in this transition from "unbearable" to "bearable," I seemed to experience a sense of release and relief. In the days that followed, the image would occasionally resurface in my mind, even though it was no longer in my sight. It transformed into an internal image, hanging in the corridor of my inner space. Due to the profound initial impression, it was preserved in my memory with remarkable clarity, down to the smallest detail. My memory often brings me back to this photograph, compelling me to revisit it repeatedly.
These viewing experiences prompted me to ponder: What constitutes the "power of an image"?
一. The Reality of the Image
In my view, reality is a crucial element in creating a powerful image. The reality I speak of here is not the conventional notion of objective recording, nor is it merely a demonstration of photography's basic function. It is about how an image can reveal what is concealed beneath the so-called normal social order.
According to Foucault, the production of truth and the exercise of power go hand in hand. The techniques for producing discourse are also the techniques for supervising it. The combined effect of these two on society is to prevent the dangers posed by discourse by screening what can be said and filtering what has been said. Without such supervision, genuine knowledge would enter discourse, become truth, and threaten the existence of the existing society. Therefore, unwelcome truths cannot reveal their true faces; because pure "human knowledge" is always suppressed, the power structure refuses to grant truth legitimate permission to exist. Power successfully eliminates dangerous elements from discourse, allowing only "correct" things to remain. Basic statements that express doubt about power have no place in the realm of truth. The distinction between right and wrong, madness and reason, arbitrarily divides the internal and external aspects of discourse. (1) Quoted from: Foucault's Labyrinth, edited by Marvin Klarada and Gerd Denbowski, translated by Zhu Yi, The Commercial Press, 2005, pages 31-32.
Chen Zhe's photography presents a mode of behavior obscured by our everyday experience - self-harm, which is labeled as "self-abuse" in our knowledge system and culture. "Self-abuse" clearly carries negative connotations and is considered "wrong" within our prevailing "correct" behaviors. The body, as a marker of human existence and the dwelling place of life, is especially cherished in Chinese culture. The myriad of health preservation methods and the pursuit of immortality are the conceptual guidance provided by this cultural system - a yearning for life and a fear of death. This makes our nation excessively treasure the physical body. The ultimate manifestation is the prevalence of secular pleasure-seeking realism and the gradual decline of spirit and will.
Jesus sacrificed his physical body to save the souls of all beings, and experiencing physical pain often becomes a way for many believers to approach Jesus. The Buddha also attained enlightenment through asceticism, minimizing dependence on material things, staying away from worldly desires and pleasures, and embracing hunger, cold, and hardship. The true meaning of the world is revealed there. The practice of monks is no different from self-abuse: seclusion, fasting, facing the wall. Many times, only by reaching the edge of life can the truth of life be revealed, as it is so close to death. Crossing over leads to an unobstructed world.
Pain, trauma, melancholy, and death are considered the opposites of pleasure, perfection, optimism, and life in our cognitive realm. Our classical culture divides things into "auspicious" and "inauspicious." Anything related to positive experiences is collectively called "auspicious," while the opposite is "inauspicious." The pursuit of benefit and avoidance of harm becomes people's philosophy of survival. In a socialist society, life, pleasure, and beauty are further used as discourse to rule over this world of lies. Authoritarian cultures share a common characteristic: the absolute glorification of a perfect life. This manifests in art as a unidimensionality of aesthetics - a universal recognition and pursuit of visually positive and glamorous beauty.
"Bearable" disrupts the existing cultural order and visual habits. It exposes this act of self-abuse to the public. These photographs appear so aggressive; they are not like comfortable sofas for people to rest on, but rather like cushions woven from thorns, forcing people to think. Thus, they lose their function of providing visual pleasure and become an uncomfortable presence, defying easy categorization or description. The significance of this work lies precisely in interrupting people's habitual thinking, compelling them to reconsider: What is the reality of the world?
二. Anti-Viewing
"Anti-viewing" is another crucial element that constitutes the power of an image. As we all know, images are meant to be viewed.
Maintaining a certain distance during shooting is one condition for achieving visual comfort, especially when the camera faces the body, particularly a female body. The female body has always existed as an object to be viewed. As an object of desire, women in a male-dominated culture are often associated with elegance and beauty. Fair and delicate skin, a healthy complexion, a serene or charming expression, and the curves created by body movements have all become publicly recognized conventions of beauty. Women are often seen as the embodiment of beauty. A representative example is the image of women in the media that fills every corner of our lives - flawless standard beauties. These images shape our vision and thinking, internalizing society's expectations for female appearance.
The female body captured by the camera is often an object of voyeurism. Only when viewers maintain a certain distance from the viewed body can they feel a sense of security. Close-up viewing can lead to discomfort due to seeing excessive details and deviating from the normal visual experience. Most people live within this normal perspective and often cannot accept alternative viewing methods. This is inertia. A good photographer's fundamental quality is the ability to view the subject from a different angle.
Chen Zhe uses self-portraits to create "Bearable." Her photographs feature only parts of the body, focusing on the injured areas and magnifying the wounds through close-ups. The texture of the skin and scars is revealed in full detail. Between the two breasts is a burn-like bruise, its purplish-black color spreading outward. This jarring bruise completely shatters any fantasies about female breasts. It becomes a site of trauma, an untouchable skin. In another photograph, a thorn pierces the skin of her chest. This tiny thorn generates immense power, completely subverting our understanding of the body. Our senses are overwhelmed by the sensation of the sting, leaving no room for desire.
Therefore, these images resist viewing. When our gaze falls upon these photographs, they instantly shatter our viewing experience. The thorn scorches and destroys our eyes that attempt to touch the photograph. What remains is a void of viewing.
Many people may experience a sense of frustration from these photographs because the wounds and thorns alter the state of the body. The body as a symbol and concept momentarily disintegrates, and the body as an object of desire shatters in an instant. Through these photographs, we see the essence of the body - pain. And only through this pain do we first encounter our spirit. Human existence is laid bare in the wounds of others.
三. Image and Mirror
In Lacan's theory of the mirror stage, an infant initially lacks a sense of "self," existing in a state of undifferentiated consciousness. However, once the infant experiences recognizing themselves in the mirror, they come to perceive the reflection as their "self," causing the true "self" to vanish at that moment. Only when the "self" becomes an object can it enter the symbolic order.
A person cannot see their own self directly; they can only vaguely perceive the "self" through others’ eyes or reflections in water. A person can only recognize their appearance and form when fully presented in a mirror. What is reflected in the mirror is the "self," but not the real "self"; it is merely the illusion of the "self." Yet, people believe that the mirror’s reflection is the true "self." Through the mirror, people can form a sense of self, enter the realm of knowledge, and use the concept of "subject" and "object" to understand things and affirm their existence. A person confirms their existence through the other; the mirror’s reflection is, in fact, the "other" of the "self."
In transcendental terms, such as in religious views, this way of understanding oneself might seem laughable. However, on a human level, confirming the self is indispensable. In the transcendental space, art is unnecessary because there, so-called vision is merely illusion. For humans, art is essential because it is through art that we come to understand ourselves. Art is human art.
The camera is another mirror invented by humanity.
Standing in front of a mirror, when I leave, I also disappear from the mirror; my image and I exist simultaneously. But a camera is different; it fixes my image, creating a static representation of my presence. The camera captures the spatiotemporal form of the "self" at that moment, and after that moment, the photograph becomes a mark of memory. While the "self" continuously changes, the photograph remains static. From that point, the photograph begins its own life cycle, yellowing and deteriorating over time. We have no means to preserve the "self" and memory, but photographs can safeguard these and provide evidence of our existence.
Chen Zhe turns the camera toward her body and records the moment of self-harm—the harmed body. Without the camera, the self-harm would remain a complex sensation of pain in her memory, driven by a thought leading to an action, and the result of this action would be accompanied by pain-related experiences. Before the camera's intervention, self-harm was unrelated to vision, but when the camera captures the wound, and she faces her injury, the harmed "self" has been objectified. At the moment Chen Zhe presses the shutter, the act of self-harm has already ended; her pain is taken by the photograph. Once the photograph is created, it acquires its own life—as a photograph’s life—while the wound becomes the content of the photo. When the author revisits the photograph, she is actually viewing her harm as an other. Only in front of this replicated image does she truly begin to understand herself.
In Chen Zhe's work, she assumes multiple roles: the creator of self-harm, the experiencer of self-harm, the photographer of self-harm, and the observer of self-harm. She indeed lives, as described in Virgil's "Bee," "within the wounds she has made."
Between the work and the viewer, there is another layer of mirroring. An image itself acts as a mirror. Each person facing the image tries to find themselves within it, even though the image depicts someone else. Due to synesthetic effects, people project themselves onto the "other" in the image. When viewers notice similarities between the "other" in the image and their own "self," their inner experiences are summoned to participate in the viewing process. The more these connections are found, the stronger the fascination with the image becomes.
When I view "Bearable," those intense and cruel images actually wound me. As I look at the wounds on her body, I feel as if the harm is inflicted on my own body. Perhaps the mirroring effect is at play here; I recognize myself as the "other" in the mirror. Everything about my bodily memory and experience is recalled at the moment I face the image. I immerse myself in my own experience—discovering that self-harm is also my experience, as I understand the process from my own encounters. Thus, the impact of these images on me is profound. The hidden internal pain is fully activated, and within her wounds, I find a reference point that seems to clarify my true self. I once said, "Expose my body, let others see their own pain." In Chen Zhe's work, within her exposed body, I see my own pain.
Resonance often occurs among those with shared experiences, and art is a presentation of individual experiences. Therefore, when we encounter a work, we are also engaging with a person, encompassing all their spirit.
四. Her Wounds
I do not believe in a completely objective perspective. Among all media, perhaps only photography is considered to have a function of truly reflecting the world. This underpins the documentary function of photography. However, while the camera does possess a mechanical and objective reproducing function, it is operated by a person. Behind the camera lens are human eyes, meaning that the so-called "objectivity" of the camera is influenced by "subjectivity." Thus, images ultimately reflect the subjective values and epistemology of individuals, shaped by their experiences and psychology. Therefore, images are essentially representations of individual spirits. When we face an image, we often first focus on the subject of the photograph and build a cognitive structure around these objects. This viewing typically remains at the level of the objectified photograph itself, isolating the photograph from its creator. However, the process of how these images are produced is crucial as it links the image to its creator. Our interpretation of images often stops at analyzing the results, while I aim to trace back to the creator’s mental world through the image. This approach is reflected in the contemporary psychoanalytic schools of image analysis.
Chen Zhe photographs her self-harm process. We need to address two questions: First, why self-harm? Second, why photograph self-harm?
Self-harm, also known as self-torture, is understood in psychoanalysis as a behavior of the weak. When a person, especially after experiencing significant repression and trauma in their early years, accumulates immense resistance internally, an aggressive person will manifest this as harm to others, while those who are weaker can only turn the harm inward, engaging in "self-torture." However, I disagree with this notion. Self-torture is not an act of weakness; it requires immense courage and endurance to turn the blade upon oneself. Thus, self-torture is not a sign of weakness but rather an expression of a determined will. However, I do agree that individuals who engage in self-harm have likely experienced various deviations in their development, with early traumatic experiences being a crucial factor leading to self-harm, which may later be triggered by subsequent setbacks. The ultimate form of this behavior can be suicide.
Physical pain is bearable, but deeper pain stems from the mind. When mental pain reaches an unbearable level, physical pain becomes a way to alleviate it. Those who self-harm are often more psychologically driven, and early traumatic experiences shift their focus, revealing the world as a manifestation of suffering. Their pain leads them to delve deeper into their inner world, delaying their integration into normal social life. They live within this world, listening to other voices, becoming artists, poets, sensitive individuals, and the mentally disturbed.
Chen Zhe also endured physical harm in her early years, inflicted by her family, which harmed both her body and psyche. Her later self-harm behaviors are closely linked to her developmental experiences. Her perception of the world is different from the conventional societal understanding. She says, "The darker the place, the clearer the vision." This phrase is a key to her soul; I can see it as pure, bright, and illuminated, because such clarity is visible only in the depths of darkness.
She continually inflicts pain on herself, living within her wounds. A person with no retreat might conceal and bury this self-harm deeply in memory, whereas an artist’s approach can be quite different. An artist may surrender to their art. When Chen Zhe picks up the camera to photograph her self-harm process, she takes a different path to face herself—opening up to allow others to see her wounds. An artist lives a dual life: one is their life, and the other is their artistic life. The artist simultaneously exists in both the everyday world and the art world, often unable to distinguish what is art and what is life. The beginning of life is also the beginning of art. Artists perform, but this performance is often a genuine representation of their lived experience. When Chen Zhe self-harms, she is immersed in life, and when she photographs the process, she is actually dissolving the act of self-harm. It is akin to confirming the self in the mirror when the real self disappears. When her self-harm appears in the image, the real act of self-harm has already vanished. The self-harm is objectified, becoming another’s self-harm. When she views the photograph, she is likely to see herself and her actions more clearly, and only then does the interpretation and understanding of the self begin.
She continually immerses herself in the harm she inflicts, validating the injuries once imposed on her body. She projects this self-harm onto the image, repeatedly examining the "other" self in the image. Eventually, she will pause at some point because she vaguely begins to see herself—traversing through the traumatic real self.
五. Their Bodies
I am amazed to find that those living with self-inflicted wounds are mostly women. They are young, fragile, beautiful, and cruel. Why are they mostly girls? In a societal model built on competition, filled with possession, war, and plunder, human desires make people greedily hope to conquer everything. This is a world controlled by reason yet driven by madness, dominated by Phallos. In such a social structure, women are oppressed and vulnerable. Girls are more sensitive and often see clearly in the darkness, standing in stark contrast to the increasingly alienated world of light. They might even choose to confine themselves in a mental world close to the edge of reason because the rational world is so insane. In this tightly structured, personified world, only madness might preserve the essence of humanity. They live too cleanly to engage with this world and are too intelligent to tolerate a world filled with ignorance.
These are their bodies, bodies marked by wounds, like bees stinging themselves to protect themselves. This is Chen Zhe's extension of her work "Bearable" into another piece titled "Bee." She extends her experience of self-harm and begins to focus on others who have also experienced self-harm—a group of young people, mostly young girls. They hide deep within this society, silently enduring the pain they have inflicted upon themselves. In this rapidly changing society, with repressive social systems, distorted family and school education, and a crisis of faith, people are increasingly objectified. This constitutes our pathological society where everyone is shaped into a social machine, and those who refuse to be alienated, who refuse to become machines, become the "madmen" of this society. Self-directed harm becomes a form of resistance against such materialistic myths, using destruction of the physical body to uphold the existence of the spirit.