Intervening in Morality Means Distancing Oneself from It: The Art of Community Distance Learning (Part Two)
Art has become a necessity. In a mature cultural ecosystem, art is not only worshipped in ivory towers but also simply for the entertainment of residents. Community art is responsible for distributing art equally to everyone in society, breaking down class limitations and economic conditions. However, moral boundaries are also ubiquitous in the community. A sound art ecosystem must also be prepared to discuss issues. There are many paths to morality, but most directions in Macau still lack consensus. Everyone treats morality as a taboo in the dark, making it difficult for art to uncover the many painful faces.
Whether it's the city facing limitations in subject matter or other unseen conditions at play, urban art in Macau tends to favor humanitarian concerns. However, its level of enlightenment is far from keeping up. Whenever issues concerning vulnerable groups, environmental concerns, or labor rights are touched upon, only the surface can be lightly described, making it difficult to truly delve into the darker aspects. When it comes to more controversial moral propositions, such as religion, suicide, same-sex marriage, or national events, let alone whether city dwellers want to engage in dialogue, even the thought itself has yet to take shape. Everyone is afraid to speak out, exhibiting conservatism and feudalism, and the propositions often fail to be documented or categorized.
The emergence of art in the community at this moment becomes crucial because it can serve as a guide. Through cultural experiences—even if it's just consumption—it can help people discern the truth when they are lost. When the education system fails, art can temporarily act as a teacher, caring for the community in ways no one had thought of, much like how the invention of the automobile changed urban distances by introducing new modes of transportation. To make people understand, the unit of speed was named "horsepower" – the concept of a horse pulling a carriage – using old concepts familiar to the public to understand new things.

Macau, with its high population density, has seen a continuous rise in suicide rates in recent years, projected to hit new highs annually, reaching a "very serious" level compared to the global average.
When art groups deal with controversial issues, there's often a gap in understanding with society, which can lead to conflict. An performance in Macau in early 2024, centered on the theme of suicide, unexpectedly found itself at the heart of a storm of controversy. It had nothing to do with the plot; merely revealing in its promotion that the story was based on a real case caused the public to fall into a moral "uncanny valley," swiftly provoking immense backlash and forcing its cancellation a few days later. Everything could only be inferred from the limited information available at the time; the performance never happened, and the full picture remained unseen. It's worth noting: are Macanese people too selfish and conservative, overly trusting that the system will protect them, unwilling to care about and discuss morality, or is it attributable to the art group being too avant-garde, wishfully thinking they were defending universal values? Clearly, the common culture that everyone deeply believed in, once a gap emerged, betrayed everyone.
In recent years, a sense of unease has quietly permeated every corner of the city. Those who consider themselves neutral are not indifferent to society, but when it comes to life, they have been educated to see it merely as a statistic in newspapers. Suicide cases, though deafening, are chosen to be forgotten immediately. Now, a bloody story has suddenly been beached before their eyes, instantly filling them with unease and shattering their hesitant excuses. They, too, suddenly became victims. On the other hand, art, as a medium, should carefully probe and help people out of certain moral dilemmas, but I don't think there is enough wisdom at present to effectively enter the community and actively understand these people, just as these people will never understand me. And they are not from the lowest strata of society; some are even middle-class. Therefore, when faced with moral issues, Macanese art has also failed, and creators have gone crazy, ignoring the public's inherent discomfort with sensitive topics, just as they once hated their tastes wishfully, believing only that they themselves are fine, doing what they consider righteous in the wrong time and space, reflecting a deeper conflict of values.

The monthly magazine "All About Macau" once used "red lines" to describe the official funding standards, whose low acceptance appalled the art community. Performances on topics such as suicide and transgender issues were all cut short after complaints were received.
If local art is destined to become education or therapy, it clearly diverges from the ancient concept that art is "disinterested." Deleuze, in "Nietzsche and Philosophy," besides citing many of Nietzsche's views to explore the contradictions of life, also points out that as long as art is linked to life, it will manifest a false but affirmed will to power. This means that artistic creation is full of stimuli, including initiative, elevating the practice of art to a higher level of power. Is it local or detached? This often leads to the paradox that frequently arises in community art.
Exploring morality through art, while championing the understanding of victims, can sometimes distort the discussion. Therefore, maintaining a distance from a specific moral incident becomes crucial. Faced with the ultimate issue of suicide, many philosophers remain silent. Simone de Beauvoir, absorbing the inclusivity of existentialism, provides an unambiguous answer in "The Ethics of Ambiguity," breaking the "inaction" inherent in original existentialism. She argues that the meaning of life is never fixed, and as life continuously enriches itself, the depth of free choice is what conquers existence. This differs from Sartre's "Being and Nothingness," which leaves morality unresolved. Adopting this stance makes discussing "existence" more effective. In the context of performance, existentialist dramas typically explore the absurdity of life, arranging the tension of struggling amidst meaninglessness, "Yes, I am talking about you," but attempting to distance the audience from reality. It's possible that while discussing a suicide case, the audience remains unaware. Simone de Beauvoir fills this gap of futile existence: "His existence is a flawed existence, but there is a way to exist in this flawed manner, and that is precisely existence."

Philosophical books can sometimes help one understand the root causes of intertwined problems.
In Foucault's "Madness and Civilization," he mentions a straitjacket designed for the insane—a vest that obstructs more the more one moves, transforming the concrete form of justice and society's alienation of freedom into an individual's regressive self-restraint. The "straitjacket" leads us to a one-sided understanding of the madman's experience, ignoring whether the underlying system is punishing righteous individuals, and who defines such strict constraints. When morality is increasingly extolled, it inexplicably ascends to a position of power, and the unsettling feeling of the "horror effect" spreads to both those present and absent who are called upon.
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