深秋霜降時分，有幸見著悔之兄的一批新作。掛在暖光均質照明灑落的百合白牆上，茶染之畫因著茶種之不同，顯色從熟黃赭紅到墨灰，呈現的色調不一而足，一致的是一派雅逸情調。

初見時，心中呀然一驚，從沒曾想，許悔之竟然會撇下熟稔的繪畫風貌，棄長年熟稔的筆墨功夫，來就植物染這樣變幻莫測的全新嘗試。待回頭再見，仔仔細細端詳過後，這才恍然了然，他之所以會以茶代墨入畫，懷揣的端的是「了無塵事來染」的另一番心境，幡然異於過去揮毫所持的心氣。

許悔之_岩漿化為寶鈴_茶、紙本_210 × 97.5 cm_2023。圖／日升月鴻畫廊提供
Hsu Hui-Chih_Lava Transforms Into Precious Bells_Tea on Paper_210 × 97.5 cm_2023

之於許悔之發表過的一系列水墨作品，之前大抵是由「墨分五色」來構成各式單色調繪畫。在大塊寫意和填字抒情之間，層次顯得明白清醒，運筆渲染曉暢淋漓。如今付諸茶染的嶄新創作，相對上雖採自天然色澤但設色穠妙，在縱容自然生發中，卻又不失凝鍊的嫻雅熟精。

據傳南宋有善畫之祤氏禪客，其繪製的山水畫龜峰圖，讓當朝進士王洋百看不厭，愛不釋手。觀圖煞是有感，初題詩於畫幅，王公尚不足以盡興，遂又另賦詩一首。詩中盛讚其工於染，「疏煙分染碧雲端」妙不可言，感嘆如此一來再也「不用丹青染素翰」，從而給禪客畫禪的清新脫俗，予以「人間此是清涼藥，時向塵中為展看」的高度評價。不免想，飽讀詩書的悔之兄，難道是讀到這首七言律詩大受啟發，決定不如暫別水墨，改以茶入畫另闢蹊徑？

許悔之_苔痕滿園_茶、紙本_216 × 95 cm_2023。圖／日升月鴻畫廊提供
Hsu Hui-Chih_Moss Marks Fill the Entire Garden_Tea on Paper_216 × 95 cm_2023

許悔之_心的苔痕本來一色_茶、紙本_153 × 72.5 cm_2023。圖／日升月鴻畫廊提供
Hsu Hui-Chih_The Traces of the Heart Were Originally of One Color_Tea on Paper_153 × 72.5 cm_2023

於是，推杯換盞品茗之後，尚存的茶湯，涵蘊了各式顏色，等待有心人醞釀成色，於是乎許悔之便欣欣然開起了染坊。於是，這無染的素布，經過浸潤鞣和，便給上色成了有感的畫紙，著天然色代替墨色。放膽一任五體放肆，縱情五感來寄情，昔時在生宣上遺下的墨香轉為茶香，煎焙的火候遂取代了皴染，茶底香化成了漬滿華光的餘韻。

無需像大唐詩人白居易那樣，非得屢屢藉辛苦齋戒來斷却葷腥，為蒙塵的肉身拂塵除垢，方能獲得「漸覺塵勞染愛輕」的體悟。許悔之透過茶染成象的反覆勞作，一樣能夠戴髮修行得道。猶如茶農頂天立地餐風飲露，依序從栽植、採菁、走水、浪青、發酵、殺青、揉團、乾燥、揀枝、焙火等講究工法，才能製出上等好茶，許悔之也必須經歷綿密工序，才能夠沉澱出別出心裁的茶染。

但凡植物不論微小巨大、孤枝或者群聚，皆蘊藏了取之於天地的神奇能量，足以造化時空與人。以自然之道，隨緣自在，沒有妄念，那清淨自我自然顯現。畢竟功在自然之中，意在自然之中。

不敢造次僭越雷池，湊近畫幅嗅聞茶香，以免叨擾微物之神，要不，作品肯定飄逸著淡淡幽香。似有若無的暗香浮動，讓清晨素手採集的一心二葉，在經過揉製逸香、浸潤發色，實行泡茶品茗的儀軌，暖胃暖心沁人心脾之後，便全都姍姍錯落，禪定為暮靄霞光，無異可以視同回甘的餘韻。

唐代禪宗盛行，茶是禪院的流行飲品，特別有助於午後不食的僧人寧心靜氣默坐參禪。詩僧皎然在《飲茶歌誚崔石使君》一詩中，分享茶以助禪的奧妙：「一飲滌昏寐，情思爽朗滿天地；再飲清我神，忽如飛雨灑輕塵；三飲便得道，何須苦心破煩惱。」茶的作用，小則清心寡慾，大能盡去煩憂。都說禪茶一味，參禪得以參透人生。品茶若如坐禪，以茶入畫便如奉茶，品畫自當能收異曲同工之妙。

許悔之_每一個波紋的光影便是一世了_茶、紙本_141 × 74 cm_2023。圖／日升月鴻畫廊提供
Hsu Hui-Chih_One Ripple, One Lifetime_Tea on Paper_141 × 74 cm_2023

許悔之_染_⽔墨、紙本_35.2 × 36.8 cm_2021。圖／日升月鴻畫廊提供
Hsu Hui-Chih_Dye_Ink on Paper_35.2 × 36.8 cm_2021

時值晚秋，想起唐代鬼才詩人李賀（790-816），寫的一首《河陽歌》的前半段：

「人稱染羅衣，秋藍難著色。不是無心人，爲作臺邛客。花燒中潬城，顏郎身已老。惜許兩少年，抽心似春草。」李賀用「染」為起手式，記與儒生知交久別重聚，饒有奇趣。心老人不老的李賀，以衰老的藍草再難染好青衫為喻，笑看對方鬢如染霜，一如自己的少年白，自嘲彼此再不復當年青澀張揚。

年少輕狂，難免自詡是大吉祥降生，生作大智慧化身，唯有經歷人事倥傯，才有自知之明，而人人都可以是大覺悟者。艷色少年襲身的青青子衿，即便已隨著年華老去褪色，詩心悠悠依然如故。但為君故摩挲沉吟至今的心緒，言念君子無比溫柔婉曲，一起向陽而生與子俱老的盟約，彌足堅定。

許悔之_煉石補天(一)_茶、紙本_176.5 × 134.5 cm_2023。圖／日升月鴻畫廊提供
Hsu Hui-Chih_Smelted Stones to Mend the Sky, No. 1_Tea on Paper_176.5 × 134.5 cm_2023

許悔之_煉石補天(七)_茶、紙本_219 × 101.5 cm_2023。圖／日升月鴻畫廊提供
Hsu Hui-Chih_Smelted Stones to Mend the Sky, No.7_Tea on Paper_219 × 101.5 cm_2023

時至人生晚秋，一手好字，一首好詩，一盅好酒，茶葉在水浪中載浮載沉，翻騰出的茶湯五味雜陳，跌宕出的況味底色，品味的無異是人生羈旅幾度秋涼。李賀早夭，以詩參透未可竟的熟年韶華，許悔之則是以墨池與茶海度出的字畫茶染，體證了走到耳順之年的階段性天命。

許悔之作為創作者，當真是個有心人。層層有染的是底蘊，纖纖無染的是初心，在有染無染交疊之間，沁潤出的無非是文人本色與儒生的正色。

許悔之_煉石補天(八)_茶、紙本_136.5 × 70 cm_2023。圖／日升月鴻畫廊提供
Hsu Hui-Chih_Smelted Stones to Mend the Sky, No.8_Tea on Paper_136.5 × 70 cm_2023

許悔之_詩和祝福_2021_水墨、紙本_137×34cm ×5_1。圖／日升月鴻畫廊提供
Hsu Hui-Chih_Poem and Blessing_Ink on Paper_148 × 37.6 × 1.5 cm × 5_2021

許悔之_觀自在_水墨、紙本_207 × 50.2 cm_2022。圖／日升月鴻畫廊提供
Hsu Hui-Chih_Guanyin_Ink on Paper_207 × 50.2 cm_2022

▌沁於一色：許悔之的茶染與墨跡
展    期｜ 2024.12.14 (六) - 2025.01.11 (六)
藝術家｜許悔之
地    點｜ 日升月鴻畫廊（台北市大安區仁愛路四段 115 號 1 樓）
時    間｜ 11:00 -19:00 （每週日、一休館）
電    話｜ 02-2752-2353

Stained Yet Unstained:

On Hsu Hui-Chih’s Tea-Dyed Work
By Peini Beatrice Hsieh

In the crisp season of late autumn, I had the privilege of viewing a new body of work by Hsu Hui-Chih. Displayed against pristine white walls illuminated by a gentle, warm light, these tea-dyed artwork showcased a remarkable range of hues—from rich amber and ochre to deep charcoal gray. Despite their diverse tonalities, each piece radiated a consistent elegance and tranquility.

At first glance, I was stunned. It never occurred to me that Hsu, with his mastery of ink and brush for many years, would abandon an artistic approach that he was familiar with to embrace the unpredictable medium of natural dyes. Took a closer look, however, it became evident that this shift to using tea as both pigment and metaphor stemmed from a profound shift in his mindset—a serene detachment from the burdens of the past, embracing a newfound sense of purpose. 

Hsu’s earlier ink work was characterized by the traditional Chinese concept of “five shades of black,” crafting compositions of stark monochromatic beauty. His brushstrokes were dynamic yet harmonious, creating layers that were both vivid and deliberate. In contrast, his new tea-dyed pieces, though were made of natural pigments, exude a sophisticated subtlety. They strike a balance between allowing organic processes to unfold and maintaining the refined precision of an accomplished hand.

The art of tea-dyeing is steeped in history. During the Southern Song dynasty, a Zen monk known for his paintings inspired a government official to compose a poem praising the painter’s use of natural stains: “Wisps of mist stain azure clouds, dispensing with bold pigments to transform the canvas.” This sentiment resonates with Hsu’s approach, where tea replaces ink to achieve a similarly ethereal quality. Perhaps it was this tradition that inspired Hsu to explore tea as a medium, steering art into uncharted waters.

The residual tea from a shared cup becomes the foundation of a new artistic journey. Through soaking, brewing, and dyeing, the once unmarked canvas is imbued with layers of meaning. Where ink once left its distinctive aroma, now a delicate tea fragrance lingers. The techniques of steeping and oxidizing replace traditional ink shading, giving rise to works that are as fragrant and ephemeral as they are visually compelling.

Unlike Tang dynasty poet Bai Juyi, who sought spiritual clarity through rigorous ascetic practices, Hsu’s creative process is meditative in its own right. Like a tea farmer tending to his craft with dedication—from harvesting leaves to roasting and fermenting—Hsu’s meticulous methods yield works of quiet profundity. Each step of tea-dyeing mirrors the patient labor of brewing the perfect cup of tea, where every infusion unveils a new depth of flavor.

Plants, regardless of their size or form, hold an inherent energy drawn from the cosmos. Hsu’s work taps into this vitality, allowing nature to dictate its course without interference. In this, his art captures the harmony in the natural world, where simplicity and authenticity emerge from a state of non-attachment.

To stand before Hsu’s tea-dyed paintings is to resist the temptation to draw too close, lest the delicate fragrance and quiet essence be disrupted. Like the subtle taste of tea that lingers long after the last sip, his work invites viewers to reflect and savor their understated beauty.

In Tang dynasty China, Zen monks famously used tea to aid their meditation. As poet-monk Jiao Ran wrote, tea clears the mind, refreshes the spirit, and leads to enlightenment. Hsu’s work, similarly, invites contemplation and a moment of stillness, offering viewers an experience akin to sipping a fine brew: calming, profound, and transformative.

As I ponder Hsu’s journey, I recall the Tang poet Li He, who, in his poem Song of Heyang, wrote of the act of dyeing as a metaphor for life’s fleeting beauty. Li lamented the difficulty of achieving vibrant colors with aging dye plants, drawing a parallel to the passing of youth. Yet, even as the vibrancy of youth fades, wisdom and artistry endure—a sentiment that resonates deeply with Hsu’s evolution as an artist.

Through his tea-dyed work, Hsu Hui-Chih reveals himself as a consummate craftsman. With every layer of stain, he imbues his work with depth and meaning; with every unmarked space, he preserves the purity of his intention. In the interplay of the stained and unstained, Hsu achieves a harmonious balance that is at once an homage to tradition and a bold stride into the future.