廢棄蚵殼、頌缽與小滿——台灣地方創生開始製造感官記憶

廢棄蚵殼、頌缽與小滿——台灣地方創生開始製造感官記憶

2026年5月23日,成龍濕地的水面上有一座漂浮的小島。那不是景觀裝置,是義大利駐村藝術家 Elena Redaelli 用廢棄蚵殼堆砌出來的——殼骨附著在學校淘汰的木桌椅骨架上,浮在雲林口湖鄉的潮間帶濕地裡,作品名字叫《蚵嶼生態 Cheng Long Oyster Village》。

這裡的蚵殼不是從藝術材料行買來的。台灣西海岸是全台最集中的蚵仔養殖帶,每年產出大量廢棄蚵殼,如何在地處理本來就是真實的環境課題。成龍濕地給出的答案是:把它們做成劇場。

一片劣地的時間線

成龍濕地今天的樣貌,是災難堆出來的。1986年韋恩颱風潰堤,海水倒灌,農田從稻米和甘蔗消失。1996年賀伯颱風再度淹沒,土地逐漸演替為內陸鹹水濕地。2010年,觀樹教育基金會啟動「成龍濕地國際環境藝術計畫」,邀請國際藝術家駐村。2019年,這片56公頃的土地正式登錄為「國家重要濕地」。從颱風到國際藝術節,這個轉型花了將近四十年。

2020年首屆「流動藝術饗宴」開始,到2025年為止,成龍濕地藝術計畫已獲得七座國際獎項,包括德國紅點、日本 Good Design Award、義大利 A’ Design Award、荷蘭 Indigo Design Award、美國 IAA MUSE Creative Awards 藝術活動類金獎。外媒稱它是「台灣唯一可比擬日本瀨戶內國際藝術節的案例」。這個評語發生在一個不在任何觀光熱區地圖上的地方。

2026年的展覽以「走進濕地」為策展核心。除了 Elena Redaelli 的《蚵嶼生態》,現場還有藝術家蔡慧盈以麻繩、蚵殼與在地植物編織而成的《棲地四號—搖籃》——新月形狀的鳥巢,放在濕地中供鳥類棲息,人不能進去。舞工廠踢踏舞團在水上移動演出,腳踏的不是舞台地板,是潮間帶。

茶道的五感升格

同一週,南投竹山辦了「2026竹山國際茶道節」,但這次跳脫了茶葉展銷會的框架。活動首度推出深度遊程,把茶產業體驗結合頌缽音療、製茶導覽與在地觀光工廠,打造五感沉浸旅程。視覺、嗅覺、觸覺、聽覺、味覺同時被設計進去。

竹山鄰近鹿谷,那是凍頂烏龍茶的發源地。1855年,林鳳池自福建武夷山引進36株青心烏龍茶苗,種植於凍頂山(海拔600至1,200公尺),奠定「南凍頂、北包種」的台灣茶格局。這個起點距今一百七十年,但茶道一直以來的展示方式,不脫靜態品飲。今年竹山把頌缽放進茶席,讓聲音成為品茶的前置動作,這是一個設計決策,不是儀式感的堆疊。

小滿的策展邏輯

同週在台北華山,「散步遊者市集 小滿清風」以二十四節氣中的「小滿」作為策展主軸。小滿約落在5月20至21日前後,農作趨於豐滿、尚未完熟——一種接近了,但還沒到的狀態。市集把這個農曆時間哲學轉化為選物邏輯:匯集獨立手作、選物與輕飲食,讓消費體驗內嵌一套傳統時間感。

「小滿」作為策展框架的有趣之處,在於它天生帶有張力。完熟是結束,未熟是失敗,「接近完熟」是台灣地方創生現在的準確狀態:方法論已經成形,但從感官事件到真正的地方經濟,這段距離還沒走完。

被繞路的地方,不需要被看見也在進化

我注意到這三個場域有一個共同點:它們都不在觀光的主幹道上。成龍濕地在雲林口湖,竹山不是台北,華山的市集也不在IG熱門打卡榜的第一頁。

台灣地方創生過去的語言是「保存與展示」——把傳統文化像標本一樣定格。這一週發生的三件事,邏輯完全不同:廢棄蚵殼是材料,不是文物;頌缽是感官設計,不是文化包裝;小滿是策展框架,不是懷舊符號。廢棄物、時間哲學、地方環境課題,全部被轉譯成感官語言,讓人用身體記憶,而不是用說明牌理解。

那些被丟棄的蚵殼,正在以另一種形狀重新進入當代文化視野。下一個問題是:當感官記憶製造完畢,有沒有足夠的地方基礎設施,把一次性的體驗轉成持續的地方經濟?成龍濕地從颱風到國際獎項花了四十年。竹山茶道節今年才第一次推五感遊程。

— 廖昀婷

延伸閱讀


Oyster Shells, Sound Bowls, and Grain Buds

On May 23, 2026, a small floating island appeared on the water at Cheng Long Wetlands. It was built by Italian resident artist Elena Redaelli from discarded oyster shells, fixed onto the frames of retired school desks and chairs, sitting in the intertidal zone of Kouhu Township, Yunlin. The work is titled Cheng Long Oyster Village.

The oyster shells weren’t sourced from an art supply store. Taiwan’s western coast is the country’s core oyster aquaculture belt, generating enormous volumes of waste shells annually. How to process them locally has always been a genuine environmental problem. Cheng Long Wetlands decided to build a theater out of them.

A Disaster Zone’s Long Arc

Cheng Long Wetlands as it exists today was built by catastrophe. Typhoon Wayne in 1986 breached the sea wall and flooded farmland that had grown rice, sugarcane, and sweet potatoes. Typhoon Herb in 1996 flooded it again. The land slowly transitioned into an inland saltwater wetland. In 2010, the Kuan-Shu Educational Foundation launched the Cheng Long Wetlands International Environmental Art Project, inviting international artists to reside and create on site. By 2019, the 56-hectare site was officially registered as a National Important Wetland.

From the first edition of the “Fluid Art Feast” in 2020 through 2025, the program has accumulated seven international awards — including the German Red Dot, Japan’s Good Design Award, Italy’s A’ Design Award, the Dutch Indigo Design Award, and the Gold Prize at the US IAA MUSE Creative Awards. It has been described as the only Taiwanese case comparable to Japan’s Setouchi Triennale. This happened in a place that doesn’t appear on any major tourism map.

The 2026 edition centered on the theme “Walk Into the Wetland.” Alongside Elena Redaelli’s oyster shell island, artist Tsai Hui-Ying’s Habitat No.4 — Cradle — a crescent-shaped bird nest woven from hemp rope, oyster shells, and local plants — sits in the wetland for actual birds to inhabit. The Tap Factory tap dance company performed on the water’s surface, not a stage floor.

Tea Ceremony Gets a Sensory Redesign

That same week, Zhushan in Nantou County hosted the 2026 Zhushan International Tea Ceremony Festival — but this time, it broke from the traditional trade-fair format. For the first time, the event launched an immersive tour program combining tea industry experiences with singing bowl sound therapy, tea-making guided tours, and local workshop visits, engaging all five senses simultaneously.

Zhushan sits adjacent to Lugu Township, the birthplace of Dongding Oolong tea. In 1855, Lin Fengchi brought 36 seedlings of Qingxin Oolong from Wuyi Mountain in Fujian province, planting them on Dongding Mountain at elevations between 600 and 1,200 meters — establishing what became known as the “South Dongding, North Baozhong” structure of Taiwanese tea culture. That origin is 170 years old. For most of that time, tea ceremony remained a static tasting exercise. Adding singing bowls to the tea table this year — letting sound function as a preparation for taste — is a design decision, not a decorative gesture.

Grain Buds as a Curatorial Logic

Also that week, the “Wanderer’s Market — Grain Buds Breeze” opened at Huashan in Taipei, using the solar term Xiaoman (Grain Buds, around May 20–21) as its curatorial spine. Xiaoman marks the point when crops have grown full but not yet ripened — close, but not there. The market built its selection logic around that tension: independent craft, curated goods, and light food, each carrying a traditional sense of seasonal time.

What makes Xiaoman an interesting curatorial frame is that it holds natural tension. Full ripeness is an ending; under-ripeness is a failure. “Almost ripe” is also an accurate description of where Taiwan’s local revitalization movement stands: the methodology is established, but the distance from sensory event to functioning local economy hasn’t been fully walked.

The Places Nobody Routes Through

All three of these sites share one structural trait: none of them sit on the main tourist corridor. Cheng Long is in Yunlin’s Kouhu Township. Zhushan is not Taipei. The Wanderer’s Market doesn’t top any Instagram location lists.

Taiwan’s place-making discourse used to speak in the language of preservation and display — culture fixed like a specimen under glass. What happened this week operates on a different premise entirely. Discarded oyster shells are building material, not artifacts. A singing bowl is a sensory design tool, not cultural packaging. A solar term is a curatorial argument, not nostalgia. Environmental problems, traditional time philosophy, and local industrial waste are all being translated into sensory language — knowledge you carry in your body, not information you read off a label.

The next question is whether the infrastructure exists to convert one-time sensory events into sustained local economies. Cheng Long took roughly four decades to get from typhoon damage to international recognition. Zhushan ran its first five-sense tea tour this year.

— 廖昀婷

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