We Have Crossed the Lake

Ian Woo, 'We Have Crossed the Lake', image used with permission of the artist

Ian Woo, 'The Great Interior',  image used with permission of the artist

I loved the work by Abstract painter Ian Woo in his review show at the Institute of Contemporary Art, Lasalle College of Fine Arts, SIngapore. I included a review of the show in a piece about contemporary art in Singapore I recently had posted on 'The Art Life'  http://theartlife.com.au/?p=5698. 

Here are my thoughts about the exhibition:

 Lyrical and beautiful, without ever descending into empty gesture, or becoming formulaic, Woo’s body of work reveals a practice of unremitting commitment and a single-minded examination of the possibilities of colour, mark and surface. Owing a debt to Philip Guston and Susan Rothenberg, as well as to canonical abstract painters of the mid-20th century such as Kline or Motherwell, the works represent nevertheless a powerful and idiosyncratic visual language all his own. In works such as ‘We Have Crossed the Lake’, 2009, the figure-ground relationships demonstrate a confident knowledge that what is left out is just as important as what is shown. An energetic calligraphy of white and black lines scrawls with apparent abandon across the surface of the work, yet underlying the gestural mark-making is a sure, spare restraint which derives from his evident knowledge of Chinese ink-painting traditions.

Playing with hard edge shapes versus lyrical, smoky drifts of grey and ochre, an earlier work such as Before I give an answer I see a flower indicates more obviously the artist’s influence from New York painters such as Guston. The ethereal drawn lines of The Clearest Symbol, dating from 1997, tantalise with hints of mysterious half-seen objects or landscapes. The subtlety of the grey washes and stains and the spare restraint of the floating forms evoke a dream-like state. Large ink drawings in this show reinforced this sense of meditation – a surprising calm as many of the individual works are so filled with energy and crammed with disparate shapes, colours and forms. Woo has said he is interested in complication, confusion and connection, and this sense that the artist is working out difficult problems on the surface of each painting is a thread running through this show.

Ian Woo, Before I Give an Answer I See a Flower, image used with permission of the artist

These works were showing in the wonderful new buildings of the Lasalle College of Fine Arts,  making me fantasise about being an art student once more. Why did I not fully appreciate the wonderful luxury of those 4 years spent at art college, all those many years ago? Why on earth did I not spend every precious moment learning as much as I possibly could? Too much time dancing to rockabilly bands (it WAS the '70s!) and drinking cheap beer, and not enough time painting! Especially way too much time spent on nonsensical student politics. What can I say? "That was in another country, and besides, the wench is dead"....(to quote either Christopher Marlowe's 'The Jew of Malta', or the crime novelist PD James, depending on which Wikipedia entry you want to go with.) I was seized by the same sense of nostalgia and a degree of longing when I spent a day in the painting studios of the Central Academy of Fine Arts in Beijing in March this year. Such intent young people, so serious of purpose, so very unlike my memories of the early 70s! No good wishing for the past to return, I tell myself briskly as I vow to make the most of every minute and seize every opportunity that presents itself.


'We have crossed the lake', indeed. 

Lasalle College of Fine Arts Buildings, Singapore

Chinese Whispers / Singapore Stories

Life After Death, Justin Lee, at the Asian Civilisations Museum, Singapore

On the plane coming home from Singapore I began to read Jan Wong's 'Chinese Whispers', her excruciating, harrowing, sometimes funny and sometimes very moving account of her quest to track down a fellow student from Beijing University where she had studied in the years immediately following the dramatic upheavals of the Cultural Revolution. At the time Wong was the first foreign (Canadian of Chinese descent) student to be admitted to the university, and an ardent Maoist. A fellow student approached her and asked for her help to get to America. Wong made the momentous decision to denounce her to the university authorities. By her own account, in the intervening 30 years, working as a Beijing-based foreign correspondent and then back in North America, she forgot all about this incident. It was only when she re-read her old diaries that she began to realise the enormity of what she had done, and begin (somewhat belatedly, some might think) to feel a great weight of guilt and remorse. The book recounts her quest in 2006 to find out what happened to this student. 


Without revealing too much, it  goes without saying that the consequences of her action were catastrophic. Despite some reservations about books of this quest-like and somewhat confessional nature (it is too easy to imagine the conversations with her agent and publisher, negotiating a book deal and a trip back to China) I found that I couldn't put it down. I especially enjoyed her astonishment, amusement and dismay at the enormous changes in China and in Beijing since she had last lived there in the 1990s - the condos for the wealthy, the emphasis on flashy designer labels, the BMWs and Mercedes, the shiny new pre-Olympics architecture and shopping malls. And the wholesale destruction of ancient neighbourhoods and significant buildings. All this in contrast with the wages and conditions of the migrant construction workers and maids (once a Maoist.....)


 I recognised much in her descriptions from my own bemused wanderings in Beijing,  although I agree to some extent with those who suggest that the foreigners (and it is mostly foreigners) who are eager to save the old courtyard houses in the hutongs are engaging in a kind of orientalism, a nostalgic chinoiserie of blue jackets, cloth shoes and bicycles.

So, despite being in Singapore and immersing myself in the colonial architecture, the food (fabulous as always) and the chaos and colour of Little India, I found myself thinking about the Chinese diaspora and the ways that it has played out in the artworld internationally, most particularly of course since 1989.  Similarly to Hong Kong, many of the commercial galleries were showing works by Chinese painters from the mainland. However I enjoyed quirky works by Lu Yifei painted on the covers of old books - these have a somewhat Japanese 'kawaii' or cute aesthetic which is also found in much contemporary graphic design. Lu was born in Shandong Province but studied and now lives and works in Singapore. In contrast, I also enjoyed the strong review show at the Lasalle College of the Arts (where Lu Yifei also studied) of abstract painter Ian Woo. 

Ian Woo

Lyrical and beautiful without descending into empty gesture or ever becoming formulaic, this body of work represents a practice of unremitting commitment and a single-minded examination of the possibilities of colour, mark and surface. Owing a debt to Philip Guston or Susan Rothenberg, as well as to canonical abstract painters such as Kline and Motherwell, the resulting series reveals nevertheless a powerful and idiosyncratic visual language. 


And the other huge surprise was the campus building - an  extraordinary sculptural edifice of glass and tilting planes. Designed by RSP Architects and completed in 2007 the project represented Singapore in the architectural section of the Venice Biennale in 2004. 

Lasalle College of the Arts, Singapore

That a city of this size has three significant  art and design schools is interesting, although the quality of what was on show in the various gallery spaces was variable. A show running concurrently in the smaller gallery space at Lasalle, Ava Tan's "Woman, Body, Fetish" exploring the representation of the female body in a series of paintings offered little that is new, despite some energetic and expressive painterly surfaces.


At the Nanyang Academy of Fine Arts Gallery (NAFA)  "Sooner or Later this Happens to Everyone, Everyone" included conceptual works by Erica Lai, Joey Soh and Miguel Chew. These were perhaps more interesting in their conceptualisation by the artists than in the experience of the audience. The always interesting experimental Substation on Armenian Street showed an installation by Bruce Quek, "The Hall of Mirrors". So it would seem that the vital signs of the visual arts in Singapore are in good shape, despite all the usual problems faced by artists everywhere, and others which are unique to this small city of so many diverse cultural traditions and languages. One very strong thread seems to be the interest in design in all its forms, and the breaking down of barriers between artists, architects and graphic designers in particular. The Red Dot Design Museum had a steady stream of Singaporean visitors while I was there, and the works of Zxerokool (see previous post) and Justin Lee demonstrate the successful hybridisation of art and design.

Tupperware Display at the Red Dot Design Museum

Justin Lee installation at the Asian Civilisations Museum

a coffee with zxerokool in Singapore

Zxerokool 'fake comic book cover' advertising the exhibition at Art Labor, Shanghai
(image reproduced with permission of the artist)

Yesterday I met young Singaporean artist/designer/fantasy futurist Jonathan Leong, aka ‘Zxerokool’ to talk about his work and about the life of young emerging artists in Singapore, a city which has been trying to position itself as an international contemporary arts hub, with mixed results.

Leong in Singapore, September 2011, photograph: Luise Guest, reproduced with permission of the artist

Our conversation ranged from his work as a designer and art director, much known for his ability to bring Gen Y street cred and a strong distinct visual style to projects for brands such as New Balance, Feiyue, Tiger Beer, Nike and MTV; brands aiming to target younger consumers and swim in that desirable pool of social-media-savvy, international 'life-style' corporate identities. Self-described as ‘an intergalactic ninja and practitioner of visual kungfu, art and creative mayhem’, Jonathan tells me he is now able to see a synergy between his independent art practice and his commercial work as a designer/creative consultant. At 28 years old looking almost absurdly young (and making me feel oh, so very old) he talks enthusiastically about his digital media, graphic design, and sculptural projects, and especially about his first solo show next year in New York at the very, very groovy Reed Space on the Lower East Side, entitled 'When the World Ends, and Other Strange Tales'. This year he has shown with Martin Kemble’s Art Labor Gallery in Shanghai, as well as in a group show at Chan Hampe @ Tanjong Pagar here in Singapore. As we talk I can't help but imagine Jonathan as a young boy, immersed in the world of video games and sci-fi fantasy, in a computer-generated world of his own design.

Over coffee he tells me that coming as he does from a highly pragmatic Chinese family, romantic archetypes of the artist starving for his art would cut no ice at all, and that claims of ‘tension’ between the two aspects of his creative identity would be a luxury he cannot afford. In fact, he says, “I believe that art and commerce can coexist, sometimes very effectively. Everything is cross-over now”. Singapore is a city where cutting-edge design, architecture and marketing are everywhere visible and highly influential, so this new kind of artist identity is appropriate to this place, and this time. His artistic hero is, no prizes for guessing, the original cool inhabitant of that cross-over and unashamedly commercial realm, Andy Warhol. In the exhibition ‘100 friends’, Singaporean artists were invited to draw the artist who most influenced them, and Jonathan had no hesitation in selecting the ubiquitous Andy as his subject. In this show, 100 A4 framed artworks by 100 artists were priced at S$199 on a cash and carry basis with 100% of the proceeds going  to the TRANSMISSION: PROJECT, an annual experimental ‘incubatory platform’ for young artists and designers to come together in an artistic exchange and mentoring process.

The Master of Pop by Zxerokool (image reproduced with permission of the artist)

Leong identifies the significant Singaporean Phunk Design Studio as a major influence on his work (and, I would guess, on his artistic identity). They have been described as propagating a visual signature that blends and recontextualises influences as diverse as traditional Chinese art, craft, philosophy and culture, Hong Kong wuxia, Japanese manga and otaku subcultures, together with Western popular culture, art, and design movements. Highly influential in the Asian design world, they aim to challenge conventions of the separation of artist and designer by deliberately and playfully blurring the boundaries.

Jonathan Leong, Fake Comic Book Cover, image reproduced with permission of the artist

As a young artist, one of the first generation to experience the transition from slow to fast broadband internet access, and to seamlessly transition between all the various forms of social media, Leong describes the way that people now ‘curate’ their own identities. This suggests once more that previous ideas of the fixed role of ‘the artist’ are somewhat outmoded, and notions of the true artist being somehow sullied by a dalliance with commerce now appear so quaintly 20^th century that they might belong in the Madison Avenue offices of Mad Men. He says his work is inspired by science fiction, architecture, contemporary visual culture and ‘the moments in between dreams and reality.’ In exploring themes of urban utopia and fantasy he has created his popular and highly engaging series of ‘fake comic book covers’. Currently a little obsessed with the resurgence of zombies in popular culture; he is also planning to design some ‘info-graphix’ parodies for his show in New York next year, which will include a zombie-proof house. Why? Because, he tells me, the current popular culture zombie obsession indicates a deeper unease, a feeling that everyone is looking for a safe place. Of course the irony is, “One is never really safe in a time of chaos”.


In a city such as Singapore, with its increasingly 'futurist utopian' skyline dominated by what some see as the sinister submarine-like shape of the top of the Marina Bay Sands towers, this savvy combination of commerce with an individual art practice reflects the mercantile history of the Chinese and Peranakan inhabitants as well as its position in the global marketplace. Chaos abounds, as even the most casual glance at the Straits Times will tell you, but there is always room for a little tongue-in-cheek zombie-proofing, and a playful approach to the serious business of art.