上海外滩美术馆 Rockbund Art Museum
洁宜黄:BANK-A-OKE Kit Yi Wong: BANK-A-OKE
31 October 2026 – 21 February 2027
“BANK-A-OKE”是常驻纽约与香港两地的艺术家洁宜黄的首场机构个展。为此,美术馆正门已变身为一家虚构的“卡拉OK银行”运营点。在这家虚构的银行里,金钱、“气”(生命能量)与声音被视为三种不同的资产类别。展览的另一部分“黄洁宜:TEM-PLE-OKE”可从美术馆历史建筑的虎丘路原大门进入。
在正门迎接你的是《气凝结出纳柜台》(2026),玻璃幕板因充盈的“气”而凝起水雾。雾气中,你看不清楚玻璃后面坐着谁,但能看到自己将要存入银行的那种物质:“气”。朦胧的柜台两侧设有两台ATM,同时也是卡拉OK点唱机——这是互动影像装置《借-我-你-的-声-音》(2026)的一部分。
这件装置源自艺术家的一个设想:卡拉OK是一种借贷。移除主唱声轨后,歌曲也就失去了其最珍贵的形而上资产:“气”。在主唱的空缺中献唱,便可暂时弥补缺失之物,向歌曲出借你的气息和声音。在ATM前,这笔借贷关系被正式确立。你选择账户、输入个人信息,并接受合约条款,随后通过唱歌完成一笔“声音存款”。声音入账后,机器将生成一份占卜文字作为凭证。然而,人声与金钱不同——即便离身,它也无法完全与其根源断开。对洁宜黄来说,声音即便几经易手,仍承载演唱者的“气”。你所存入的声音,始终无法与你完全分离。那么,将某种始终无法与自身分离的东西存入银行,究竟意味着什么?
美术馆地处上海历史上的金融区——外滩,为这家虚构的银行提供了一个特殊的历史语境。艺术家将信贷与利息的历史叠加于供奉、功德和业报等更为古老的经济体系之上。在这些体系中,当下的行为可能在未来产生义务或回报。在这些交叉重叠的体系里,贷方与借方的界线逐渐模糊。
办理声音存款之前,你大概想要排练一番。美术馆二楼东厅用作银行的练歌房。两块屏幕播放《借我你的声音》(2026),ATM中的卡拉OK曲目即由这件影像作品改编而来。旋律采用五声音阶,专为反复演唱而作,每遍咏唱都会积聚力量。另一块屏幕则播放《内在声音移植》(2022—2024),一件较早的卡拉OK表演讲座作品,探讨人声、健康与灵性之间的关系。这两件作品共同将此次新委任创作置于洁宜黄持续展开的探索实践之中:声音既是身体的表达,也是承载着超越个体自身之能量的媒介。
银行系统已全面开启,欢迎开户。如其他合约一样,敬请仔细阅读条款内容。
BANK-A-OKE is the first institutional solo presentation by Hong Kong and New York-based artist Kit Yi Wong. For this exhibition, the museum’s main entrance has become a branch of the Bank of Karaoke, a fictional institution in which money, qi (vital energy), and voice are held as distinct asset classes. Visitors can enter its counterpart, Wong Kit Yi: TEM-PLE-OKE, through the museum’s historical entrance on Huqiu Road.
The exhibition opens with Qi-condensed Teller Counter (2026), a bank counter whose glass partition is clouded with condensation from qi-rich air. While you cannot quite make out who sits behind the glass, you can see in the fog the very substance you are about to deposit. Beyond the foggy counter stand two ATMs that double as karaoke machines, part of Lend-Me-Your-Voice (2026). The installation grew out of Wong’s proposition that karaoke is a kind of loan. When a song’s lead vocal is removed, it loses its qi, its most precious metaphysical asset. Singing into that absence temporarily restores what is missing, lending the song your own breath and voice.
At the ATMs, that loan is formalized. You choose an account, enter your details, and accept a contract before making a “voice deposit” by singing. Your voice is credited to that account, and the machine issues a divinatory text in return. For Wong, a voice continues to carry its singer’s qi even as it changes hands, and your deposit is never entirely severed from you. What, then, does it mean to deposit something that remains inseparable from oneself?
The museum’s location on the Bund, Shanghai’s historic financial district, provides a conceptual context for this fictional bank. Here, Wong layers enduring structures of credit and interest over even older economies of offering, merit, and karma, in which acts performed in the present may generate obligations or returns in the future. Within these overlapping systems, the boundaries between lender and borrower become uncertain.
Before making a deposit, you may wish to rehearse. The east lobby on the second floor serves as the Bank’s practice room. Two screens play Lend Me Your Voice (2026), the video that was adapted into the ATMs’ karaoke track. Its pentatonic melody is made to be repeated, gathering potency each time it is sung. Nearby is Inner Voice Transplant (2022–2024), an earlier karaoke lecture-performance exploring relationships between vocality, health, and spirituality. Together, these works situate the new commission within Wong’s ongoing investigation of the voice as both a bodily expression and a carrier of energies that exceed the individual.
Accounts are now open. As with any contract, please read the terms carefully.