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      [藝術動態] 聚焦“金熊貓”主論壇:陳凱歌提醒警惕技術過度“遮故事”,單霁翔揭秘文化遺産新打開

      2 已有 27 次阅读   2025-09-14 15:29
      聚焦“金熊貓”主論壇:陳凱歌提醒警惕技術過度“遮故事”,單霁翔揭秘文化遺産新打開方式 

      希臘前總理喬治·帕潘德裏歐、中國導演陳凱歌、瑞士演員文森特·佩雷斯、英國影視制作人尚塔爾·裏卡茲、故宮博物院學術委員會主任單霁翔、歌唱家廖昌永⋯⋯9月13日,來自全球多國的政要、影視名人、文化大家等齊聚“2025金熊貓國際文化論壇”。

      该论坛为第二届金熊猫奖的主体活动之一。《每日經濟新聞》记者在活动现场感受到,不同肤色与语言的交流,让“文明共聚 开创未来”的论坛主题愈发鲜活,嘉宾们对文明传承、影像交流与文化创新的探讨,是金熊猫奖背后跨越国界的文化凝聚力。

      “2025金熊猫国际文化论坛”现场 图片来源:每经记者 杜蔚 摄

      在這場國際文化對話中,中國文化界人士的發言尤爲引人關注。從影四十余年的導演陳凱歌,如何從三星堆、杜甫草堂的蜀地文脈中汲取創作靈感,又爲何強調“技術是工具,人文是靈魂”?曾守護故宮的單霁翔,又以怎樣的案例闡釋“讓文化遺産活起來”?

      陳凱歌:技術應是思想的羽翼,而非創作的枷鎖

      “文明因交流而多彩,文明因互鑒而豐富。”在“2025金熊貓國際文化論壇”現場,陳凱歌以一句平實而深刻的話,爲這場跨越國界的影像對話定下基調。

      “2025金熊猫国际文化论坛”现场 图片来源:每经记者 杜蔚 摄

      深耕影壇40余年,陳凱歌對創作有深刻體悟:“一切的藝術創作都是在不忘本來,吸收外來與面向未來中展開的。”

      “向内观,在传统根脉中照见精神的源头。”陈凯歌强调,中华文明源远流长,是艺术创作的深厚根基。从《黄土地》探寻孕育蠠崴的水土,到《霸王别姬》借京剧展现时代与人的命运,再到《长安三万里》《哪吒之魔童闹海》等作品,陈凯歌认为它们都是扎根传统、汲取中华文明营养,才得以沉淀出的优秀作品。

      圖片來源:豆瓣電影

      在陳凱歌看來,藝術需向下紮根,吸取營養,才能向上生長。“向外看,需以影像爲橋梁開啓文明的對話。”陳凱歌認爲,現代文明始于對話,文化自信源于開放胸襟與對話勇氣。他拍攝《妖貓傳》時,邀請國內外藝術家共同描摹盛唐夢境,這種合作超越了技術層面,找到了精神文化共鳴。

      “金熊猫奖像一座桥梁,让世界各地的影像故事在这里相遇,在这个过程中彼此看似相似,但也能看到差异。”陈凯歌表示,正如《乔乔的异想世界》《大熊猫 小奇迹》等影片所展现的。当创作者打破认知壁垒,通过镜头走进另一种文化、生活,理解另一种价值观时,“我们才真正让文明的活水开始流动,让世界在更深远处彼此相连,成为一个息息相关、休戚与共的人类命运共同体。”

      陳凱歌坦言,非常喜歡蓉城。“錦繡天府,安逸四川,我深愛這片曆史人文傳統深厚(的土地)。”他說,三星堆、杜甫草堂、金沙太陽神鳥等文化符號,讓四川本身成爲一部偉大的史詩。而各國人士共赴“金熊貓”之約,正是爲了“超越地域、語言、文化的障礙,以文明互鑒的方式,在人類共同的光影長河中彙聚在一起”。

      “傳承是根基,交流是事業,而創新則是我們走向未來的唯一路徑。”陳凱歌表示,今天所有人都處于一個技術爆炸的時代,數字特效、虛擬制片、人工智能正以前所未有的力量席卷而來,重塑影視藝術的制作方式。“我認爲技術只是工具,人文方是靈魂。當技術爲我們插上想象翅膀的時候,也需警惕技術過于耀眼的光芒是否會遮蔽故事本身。我始終認爲,技術應是思想的羽翼,而非創作的枷鎖。”

      陳凱歌認爲,真正的創新不是對技術的盲目崇拜,而是思索如何運用新工具去講述古老而永恒的、今天的人類故事。

      單霁翔:文化遺産不僅屬于一個國家,更屬于整個人類

      文化遺産不是標本,而是“活在當下”的生命體。這是單霁翔在“2025金熊貓國際文化論壇”上給出的判斷。

      “文化遺産不能僅僅躺在庫房裏,或只出現在展會中,而應該真正活起來,成爲面向今天引領未來的精神力量。”單霁翔以故宮爲例,進一步講述打破高牆紅門,把更多文物請出庫房,通過展覽、文創、數字影像等方式,才能讓六百歲的宮殿“可親、可感、可傳播”。

      在單霁翔看來,這些做法並非“炫技”,而是讓遺産回歸公共生活的必經之路。

      单霁翔 图片来源:每经记者 杜蔚 摄

      公衆參與是文化遺産創新活力的來源。單霁翔認爲,“文化遺産的命運最終決定于人,它跟我們每一個人都有密切關系”。

      良渚古城遺址開放後,人們可以走進古城,了解古人的生活方式,參與水稻收割等活動;年輕人在景德鎮古窯鑽研陶藝,居民守護古井、老牆,這些都是公衆參與文化遺産保護的生動體現。單霁翔表示,目前來自希臘31家博物館的1172件文物正在三星堆博物館舉行展覽,與古蜀面具對視。“今天,不同國家、不同語言、不同信仰的來賓歡聚一堂,正是這一主張的生動見證。”

      “金熊貓獎”以多元的包容性展現國際影響力。據悉,本屆金熊貓獎共征集到來自全球126個國家和地區的5343部作品參評,其中海外作品占比73.2%。

      “交流互鑒是消弭隔閡的橋梁。”單霁翔認爲,“我們的文化遺産不僅屬于一個國家,更屬于整個人類。”

      也許,當金熊貓獎的舞台燈光熄滅後,觀衆散場,但那些被手機電筒照亮的青銅面具、被短視頻轉發的川劇變臉,仍會持續發酵。因爲,文化遺産一旦活起來,就再也不會回到庫房。

      每日經濟新聞

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      He held out his hand. ‘I shall be very pleased to show you anything I’ve got,’ said Keeling. ‘We will have a cup of{274} tea in my library unless Lady Inverbroom is waiting in your motor.’ The morning after their return from Enoshima was mostly spent at the hotel, as all three of the excursionists were somewhat fatigued with their journey. The boys embraced the opportunity to ask the Doctor the meaning of certain things they had observed in Japan, and which had not been brought up in conversation. Till we look on the world from above." "Would I not tell my dream, as nice young men in the Bible always did?" "No," he said, "my last name is Durand." He gave it the French pronunciation. "She air!" He was pleased. "Yass, we all good frien's togetheh." "Gholson, s'e, 'I done as I done, sir, from my highest sense o' duty. This ain't Lieutenant Helm's own little private war, Lieutenant Quinn, nor mine, nor yours.'" "I am Charlotte Oliver." "I'm afraid your explanation won't hold water," he rejoined. "I can't bring myself not to believe in what I saw. You see, all my life I have been trying to believe in miracles, in manifestations. I have always said that if only we could bring ourselves to accept what is not obvious. My best sermons have been upon[Pg 129] that subject: of the desirability of getting ourselves into the receptive state. Sometimes the Vicar has objected. He seemed to think I was piling it on deliberately. But I assure you, Doctor Allingham, that I have always wanted to believe—and, in this case, it was only my infirmity and my unfortunate nervousness that led me to lose such an opportunity." "It sounds incredible," the Countess said. There was a faint moaning cry in the doorway, a tiny white figure stood there. Mamie had been awakened by the ringing of the bell, she had missed Hetty, and had come down in her childish way to see what was the matter. For compasses, the lead points should be cylindrical, and fit into a metal sheath without paper packing or other contrivance to hold them; and if a draughtsman has instruments not arranged in this manner, he should have them changed at once, both for convenience and economy. Chuck-boring is employed in three cases; for holes of shallow depth, taper holes, and holes that are screw-threaded. As pieces are overhung in lathe-boring there is not sufficient rigidity neither of the lathe spindle nor of the tools to admit of deep boring. The tools being guided in a straight line, and capable of acting at any angle to the axis of rotation, the facilities for making tapered holes are complete; and as the tools are stationary, and may be instantly adjusted, the same conditions answer for cutting internal screw-threads; an operation corresponding to cutting external screws, except that the cross motions of the tool slide are reversed. "Sister," I said, "I am a cousin of S?ur Eulalie, and should like to see her, to know how she is and take her greetings to her family in The Netherlands." 102 As I went a patrol marched out—reinforcements had again come from Tongres—whose task was to clear the district of the enemy. The patrol consisted of six Death-head hussars, about forty bicyclists, and the rest infantry, altogether about four hundred men, who were able to keep together, because the hussars and the cyclists proceeded very slowly and cautiously in the direction of Lanaeken. I went with them, chatting with one of the officers. As soon as they had got to the road, the greatest caution188 was observed. The hussars went in front, followed by some of the infantry, all in loose formation, continually looking about in all directions, with the finger at the cock of the rifle. Nor is it only the personality of Socrates that has been so variously conceived; his philosophy, so far as it can be separated from his life, has equally given occasion to conflicting interpretations, and it has even been denied that he had, properly speaking, any philosophy at all. These divergent presentations of his teaching, if teaching it can be called, begin with the two disciples to whom our knowledge of it is almost entirely due. There is, curiously enough, much the same inner discrepancy between Xenophon’s Memorabilia and those111 Platonic dialogues where Socrates is the principal spokesman, as that which distinguishes the Synoptic from the Johannine Gospels. The one gives us a report certainly authentic, but probably incomplete; the other account is, beyond all doubt, a highly idealised portraiture, but seems to contain some traits directly copied from the original, which may well have escaped a less philosophical observer than Plato. Aristotle also furnishes us with some scanty notices which are of use in deciding between the two rival versions, although we cannot be sure that he had access to any better sources of information than are open to ourselves. By variously combining and reasoning from these data modern critics have produced a third Socrates, who is often little more than the embodiment of their own favourite opinions. the summer when I wasn't teaching Latin to my two stupid children. And so on, in an endless file, come the bodies of the faithful dead, some from long distances, so that their souls may rise at once to paradise from their ashes burnt on the Manumenka. “Looks bad, this-here, don’t it?” He grinned. Turning with a confidential air and addressing Dick, for whom he seemed to have the greater liking, Mr. “Everdail” spoke. “All ready!” called Larry, bending the end of the line so its flow went into the central tank of the amphibian. As soon as the yacht came in sight, they stared toward the stern. “We can prove it—come on!” He held up a hand, and pointed ahead, then opened the throttle, came onto a straightaway course over the hydroplane, rapidly overhauled it and got well ahead. Then, cutting the gun and gliding, as it came up under them, he signaled, and Dick, waiting, ignited a second flare. “What about Tommy Larsen?” He failed in his purpose. “Tommy’s a good pilot,” Jeff admitted. “Well—I’ll be on my way. See you at the next air Derby!” Jeff grinned at his joke and walked on. Countless times his nerves had been pulled by sounds which turned out on second thought to be only the contracting of the hot metal, subjected to the sun all day, as the evening breeze robbed it of its warmth. “He could start his motor and taxi while it warmed up, and be half across the Sound before he took off if he wanted to, in that ‘phib,’” the pilot said. Turning, he called that he would get going, and returned beyond their view beyond the trees. "Some Sierra Blanca, sir," said the soldier. It was respectful enough, and yet there was somewhere in the man's whole manner an air of equality, even superiority, that exasperated the lieutenant. It was contrary to good order and military discipline that a private should speak without hesitation, or without offence to the English tongue. A long sunset shadow fell across his path, and he looked up. Felipa was walking beside a little white burro, and holding Mrs. Campbell's golden-curled baby upon its back. She carried her head superbly erect, and her step, because of the moccasins, was quite noiseless. The glow of the sunset shone in her unflinching eyes, and lost itself in the dull black mass of her hair. She studied his face calmly, with a perfectly impersonal approval. There were also magazines and a few books in more than one language, wild flowers arranged in many sorts[Pg 36] of strange jars, and in the corner, by an improvised couch, a table stacked with cups and plates of Chelsea-Derby, which were very beautiful and very much out of place. "Over here to Tucson" was a three days' ride under the most favorable circumstances; but with the enthusiastic botanist dismounting at short intervals to make notes and press and descant upon specimens, it was five days before they reached, towards nightfall, the metropolis of the plains. At the instant a cloud floated over the sun, and soon a black bank began to fill up the sky above the ca?on. As they ate their breakfast in the tent, the morning darkened forebodingly. Felipa finished the big quart cup of weak coffee hurriedly, and stood up, pushing[Pg 99] back her camp-stool. Her horse and four others were waiting. Kirby was without fear, but he was also without redress. He turned from them, his face contracted with the pain of his impotence, and walked back to the house. "I could order them off the ranch to-night," he told his wife, as he dropped on a chair, and taking up the hearth brush made a feint of sweeping two or three cinders from the floor; "but it's ten to one they wouldn't go and it would weaken my authority—not that I have any, to be sure—and besides," he flung down the brush desperately and turned to her, "I didn't want to tell you before, but there is a pretty straight rumor that Victorio's band, or a part of it, is in these hills. We may need the men at any time." Neither spoke of the two who should have been back hours ago. The night closed slowly down. [Pg 209] "Now you get up and walk in front of me, and don't you try to bolt. I can run faster than you can, and, anyway, I'll shoot you if you try it." The probable outcome of things at the rate they were going was perfectly apparent. Landor would advance in age, respectability, and rank, and would be retired and settle down on three-fourths pay. He himself would end up in some cow-boy row, degraded and worthless, a tough character very probably, a fine example of nothing save atavism. And Felipa would grow old. That splendid triumphant youth of hers would pass, and she would be a commonplace, subdued, middle-aged woman, in whom a relapse to her nature would be a mere vulgarity. She gave a dry little sob of unutterable glad relief and tried to raise her voice and call to him, the call they used for one another when they rode about the ranch. But the sound was only a weak, low wail. Eugene, during these affairs, had been actively prosecuting the fortunes of the Allies with his remnant of an army. He pushed on the siege of Quesnoy, and took it. He sent a flying detachment of one thousand five hundred cavalry, under Major-General Grovestein, to make an incursion into France. This force made a rapid raid in Champagne, passed the Noire, the Meuse, the Moselle, and the Saar, ravaged the country, reduced a great number of villages and towns to[7] ashes, rode up to the very gate of Metz, and then retired to Traerbach with a load of rich booty. This was a proof of what might have been done in France at this period with the whole army united under a commander like Marlborough, in place of miserably giving up everything to that country in the moment of power. As it was, it created the utmost consternation in Paris, the people of which already saw the English at their gate; whilst Louis did not think himself safe at Versailles, but gathered all the troops in the neighbourhood of the capital around his palace, leaving the city to take care of itself. WELFEN CASTLE, HANOVER. Colonel Gardiner endeavoured to charge the advancing enemy with his dragoons; but it was in vain that he attempted to animate their craven souls by word and example—at the first volley of the Highlanders they wheeled and fled. The same disgraceful scene took place on the left, at nearly the same moment. Hamilton's regiment of horse dispersed at the first charge of the Macdonalds, leaving the centre exposed on both its flanks. The infantry made a better stand than the cavalry; it discharged a steady and well-directed volley on the advancing Highlanders, and killed some of their best men, amongst others, a son of the famous Rob Roy. But the Highlanders did not give them time for a second volley; they were up with them, dashed aside their bayonets with their targets, burst through their ranks in numerous places, so that the whole, not being able to give way on account of the park wall of Preston, were thrown into confusion, and at the mercy of the foe. Never was a battle so instantly decided—it is said not to have lasted more than five or six minutes; never was a defeat more absolute. Sir John Cope, or Johnnie Cope, as he will be styled in Scotland to the end of time, by the assistance of the Earls of Loudon and Home, collected about four hundred and fifty of the recreant dragoons, and fled to Coldstream that night. There not feeling secure, they continued their flight till they reached Berwick, where Sir Mark Kerr received Cope with the[97] sarcastic but cruelly true remark that he believed that he was the first general on record who had carried the news of his own defeat. "The same idea has occurred to me," said the Lieutenant; "though I've felt all along that we should not be diverted by anything from making our way as fast as possible up to the main line. What do you think, Shorty?" "I cannot get you out of the army too quickly. Sign this, and leave my office, and take off your person every sign of your connection with the army. I shall give orders that if you appear on the street with so much as a military button on, it shall be torn off you." "I'd probably hit him a welt and he'd go off bawlin' like a calf," he communed with himself. "No; Billings is too tame, now, until he finds out whether we've got anything on him to send him to the penitentiary, where he orter go." "But you ain't nigh 18," said Si, looking him over, pleased with the boy's spirit. Si and Shorty ran down in the direction indicated. They found the boys, stern-eyed and resolute, surrounding two weak-eyed, trembling "crackers," who had apparently come to the train with baskets of leathery-crusted dried-apple pies for sale. The men were specimens of the weak-minded, weak-bodied, lank-haired "po' white trash," but the boys had sized them up on sight as dangerous spies and guerrillas, had laid hands on them and dragged them down into the brush, where Gid Mackall and Harry Joslyn were doing a fair reproduction of Williams, Paulding and Van Wert searching Maj. Andre's clothes for incriminating documents. They had the prisoners' hands tied behind them and their ankles bound. So far they had discovered a clumsy brass-barreled pistol and an ugly-looking spring dirk, which were sufficient to confirm the dangerous character of the men. Two of the boys had secured ropes from the train, which they were trying to fashion into hangman's nooses. Gid and Harry finished a painstaking examination of the men's ragged jeans vests, with a look of disappointment at finding nothing more inculpating that some fishhooks, chunks of twist tobacco and cob-pipes. "Do you say that Sherman has extra tunnels, too, to put in whenever one is needed?" asked Harry, with opening eyes. "You bob-tailed brevet West Pointer," said Shorty savagely, raising his fist, "I've a notion to break you in two for tryin' to beat me out o' what's mine. Git out o' here, or I'll—" Fruyling's World The song was necessary, and his voice, carrying over the sounds that filtered through to him, was clear and strong. The Quarter Sessions were held early in December, and Robert's case came wedged between the too hopeful finances of a journeyman butcher and the woes of a farmer from Guldeford who had tried to drown himself and his little boy off the Midrips. Robert was sentenced to three years' imprisonment. "Of course it is—and the very best silk too. I'll put it on. Please undo my dress." Her look of surprise and adoration was his reward. Pete fetched some soup from the larder and heated it up to a tepid condition; he also produced bread and cold bacon, which the prodigal could not touch. Albert sat hunched up by the fire, coughing and shivering. He had not altered much since he left Odiam; he was thin and hectic, and had an unshaved look about him, also there were a few grey streaks in his hair—otherwise he was the same. His manner was the same too, though his voice had changed completely, and he had lost his Sussex accent. "If I could only see a parson," sobbed Albert at last. "Sacrilege!" shouted he—"sacrilege! Take them, dead or alive!" It was to little purpose that Richard expostulated; the fair Joan was resolved to share in whatever perils might befal her son. As they approached Mile-end, the princess started at the deafening clamour which arose from the multitude; some shouting for Richard as they saw him advance, and others vociferating as loudly that all should hold their peace until they knew what the king would grant. When the tumult had in some degree subsided, Sir Aubrey de Vere and Sir Robert Knowles rode forward in advance of the king, and approaching Jack Straw, who was also on horseback:—
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      ENTER NUMBET 0012