Special Column: Singapore Biennale 2008 Making with what is made: Gary Carsley’s park representations  What is nature? How is it understood and perceived in relation to culture? What is art and its relation to representation and reality? -These are some of the dilemmas that conceptually underpin the artworks of Gary Carsley. His artistic practice has centered on ‘parks’, a man-made representation of nature and a crucial cultural conception in each time period of history. He proceeds in a rigorous process based fashion to critique and reflect on cultural issues that are at work in the creation of these parks, often engaging with larger cultural phenomenon while doing so. In a nutshell, the process involves photographing his ‘objects of study’, the parks, and recreating the forms and colours of the image on the computer, part by part, with scanned wood adhesive foils each of which has varied grain patterns and tones. The technique is inspired from the old artisanal practice of wood inlay, called intarsia. He then creates large scale photographic monoprints of the digital images, thus creating images of images, as it were. While the elaborate method of work is a way of engaging with the questions that Gary grapples with, the finished prints are elaborate and beautiful in themselves. We met the artist and found out more about his work, while he was here briefly in preparation for the upcoming Biennale. Tell us more about your practice. I do parks all over the world. Parks are very complex forms of place-making that are central to the mythologies of almost all the civilisations of the world. I am only concerned with public gardens in my work, as these have some form of historical and cultural resonance. For instance, if you take the Botanical gardens, you have a history of usage but you also have patterns of colonial exploitation. In some ways, the whole of Singapore is a big park. Yes. It was conceived of by its modern founders as a Garden City, making Singapore perfect for this type of project because it is in many ways exactly like a park. What I am doing currently is an intervention into the Flat-pack of IKEA, which is interesting to me, because it is both an object and a concept. In fact, the colonial process played itself out in similar ways by using similar strategies. Wherever the British went, they took with them processes of culture and its instrumentalities, such as architecture. Like IKEA they used pattern books to assemble prefabricated cultural and physical elements. So using the flat-pack, for instance, brings to play this historical baggage, so to speak. Baggage as a metaphor operates on many different levels as subject and object picking up on some tactics of Fluxus, as well. Laid out like a park, IKEA stores are all over the world, their intactness and the aspect of enclosure bear comparison to Singapore as a form of place making. This sort of ‘park project’ would be the mainstay of your artistic practice. Am I right to say that? Yes, I have only done parks, because the concept required one form of representational act, that of the contact adhesive, being used to articulate another form of representational act, such as representation of nature by culture, exemplified by the park. That is how the conjunction began - the wood described the wood. Working around the ideas of place-making, you are concerned with questions of authenticity and originality. How much of your work do you think deals with the politics of post-colonialism? These are only minor interests. The main reason for doing this is that it allows for patient elaboration of things and this requires measurable skill. I think it is a wondrous thing to see a really exquisite object that has meaning and that operates on many levels. To say that such a thing has vanished from contemporary art is to exaggerate the point, but it is nevertheless true to a large extent. So I like to be able to make a very beautiful thing that has meaning, and that has meaning on more than one level. Beauty can quite often contest the banality of life and, these days, is a form of political act. Let’s talk about the work for this Biennale. What would you be working on? I have looked at parks in Singapore for quite some time in some of my previous works. In this instance, they will not be the public or famous parks of Singapore, but they will be from the heartlands; at least two of them. As the works develop over time, I would consider consulting and working closely with the National Parks, because the parks here also constitute an important part of the rhetoric of the state of Singapore as a garden. At the same time, one cannot forget that the closed garden is also a garden of social control and regulation. It’s a very interesting framework to look at Singapore. In one sense, the situation in Singapore is quite like other new world societies where a place has to be made and its culture articulated. But, while the other projects are cognitive, here, because the city is quite small, it’s almost a laboratory of those sorts of things. The ease and transparency of the processes of place-making over here make it easy to see the State in the role of the gardener. As such, I am looking forward to this project. I very much like the concept of the Biennale. Written by Usha M. Nathan The Photograph: Storyteller Extraordinaire  View from the Window at Le Gras. Joseph Nicéphore Niépce. 1826 The very first permanent image was obtained by Joseph Nicéphore Niépce in 1826. The world hasn’t quite been the same since; the rather simple camera obscura had unleashed whole new ways of perceiving the world. On the wall is a photograph of a thin bearded man lying dead on a makeshift stretcher, and around him are Bolivian army officials. The photo is released by the CIA to the World press to convince them of Cuban Che Guevara’s death. The CIA is certain the Marxist revolutionary’s role in world politics will come to an end with this photograph in the world’s collective memory. But, instead, what happens is that another of Guevara’s image—one taken by his good friend Alberto Korda—stays seared in public memory, elevating him to a hero’s status. The famous photograph of Guevara has since taken on a character of its own. The Maryland Institute College of Art has even called Korda’s image “the most famous photograph in the world.” A photograph does not just command your admiration. It is certainly beautiful; that visual appeal is the hallmark of striking photographs. But embedded in it is a story, and a spirit. A lone nondescript piece of driftwood, when photographed well, takes on a character and poignancy that would not have been bestowed upon it otherwise. A stray strand of hair, a sparkling dewdrop, a sandstorm—they all become players in a compelling story. As storytellers, some of the greatest photographers include Henri Cartier-Bresson, Dorothea Lange, William Eugene Smith, and Margaret Bourke-White, to name but a few. Whether it was Smith’s war photography on the cover of Life magazine, or Lange’s rugged imagery of a starving family in the Depression Era, or even Cartier-Bresson’s candid shots, each has a distinctive world within itself and a story that is waiting to be uncovered. Photojournalism, street photography, documentary photography—they deal with gritty reality, and relate some of the most gripping stories. Photojournalism has been making inroads into its status as an art form. The strength of an artist’s work lies in his ability to articulate what cannot be said in words, to express an experience of a moment in time. And, in this, lies the power of photography. A painting, a poem, or a piece of music might be a representation of the originator’s thoughts and the images inside his head, and hence completely disconnected from another human being’s realm of possibility and ideas. You shake your head, marvel at the artist’s imagination, and move on. But photography is enriched with the dynamic of the connection with the outside world, human and otherwise.A photographer uses his starting materials: the subject, and the way that light falls on it. Photography allows for room to express, innovate and experiment, while utilising two of the instruments of reality, as it were: light and shadow. We all know how light can affect an object. We all know how fascinating shadow play can be. And, yet, when the artist places a photograph in front of us, we all ‘see’ different things. This very ambiguity that photographs lend to their subject acts as a Rorschach test of sorts; much like any work of art, the photographer might have captured/ portrayed something, but the viewer sees something else entirely. Instead of a strictly black and white rendition, its content takes on a dreamy grey quality, subject to interpretation, like all other artwork, even while ostensibly representing reality. As Eddie Adams said, after his famous Vietnam War photograph of General Nguyen Ngoc Loan executing a Viet Cong prisoner stamped overnight notoriety on the General, who was misconstrued by the world at large as the villain in the photograph, “People believe them; but photographs do lie, even without manipulation. They are only half-truths.” And, perhaps, therein lies their magic. Written by Nandini Narayanan 5 Years of OBJECTIFS Centre for Filmmaking and Photography  Entering Objectifs. Photo courtesy of the writer. Recently, a mile-stone was achieved, albeit with little fanfare. Objectifs, the local centre for filmmaking and photo-graphy, celebrated its 5th anniversary in March 2008. Started by Dawn Teo and Emmeline Yong in 2003, Objectifs has steadily been at the forefront of the local arts scene. Essentially functioning as a ‘support centre’ for filmmaking and photo-graphy enthusiasts, Objectifs has been facilitating classes, workshops and exhibitions for enthusiasts at its three-storey facility. When asked whether there were any pressing needs that the founders saw back then, that prompted them to start Objectifs, Emmeline mentioned, “One of the reasons is to fill that gap between the established photographers/ filmmakers and hobbyists. Those who might have the interest in pursuing the craft but don’t come from any institutions or those who are thinking of a career switch but are at a loss as to how to further their ambitions. This is where Objectifs comes in.” Indeed Objectifs have a stellar team of advisors, including Eric Khoo of Zhao Wei Films, Sebastian Tan, founder of the Shooting Gallery, a widely recognised production house with establishments in 4 countries, and Freddie Yeo of the Singapore-based Infinite Frameworks, one of Asia’s leading post-production facilities. In the spirit of cultivating the local photography and filmmaking scene, Objectifs conducts a range of workshops catering to both crafts. Ranging from basic classes for beginners, to advanced classes, Objectifs has a ready list of professionals to impart their valuable teachings and experiences. At these workshops, participants can not only pick up the technical skills on how to be a good photographer or filmmaker but, more importantly, get insights into the prevalent trends in the industry. Potential collaborations are also possible, as students are given the opportunity to widen their network and meet practitioners as well as other aspiring photographers and filmmakers. Another important fact is that Objectifs is the only international short film distributor based in Singapore and the Southeast Asian region. Working together with Infinite Frameworks and the Shooting Gallery, Objectifs Films distributes Southeast Asian short films of all genres and types to televisions stations, Internet sites, educational institutions, museums and other screening venues internationally, serving as a launching pad for the myriad artistic voices from this region. As for photography, they have an annual mentoring programme, called Shooting Home. Selecting 10 participants each year, this intense workshop pairs up budding photographers with established and prolific photographers like Bryan van der Beek and Francis Ng, among others, to engage in field work and critique sessions designed to improve their skills. Past participants have gone on to switch careers and even collaborate on commercial projects, further proving Objectifs’ ability to bring together like-minded amateurs and professional artists. On the educational front, Objectifs has the Travelling Short Film Project. Literally bringing local films to many places, this film outreach programme makes its rounds to schools in Singapore, raising awareness amongst young students about the short film genre. The hour-long programme usually consists of film screenings and a talk by one of the filmmakers about their inspirations and experiences. Looking back over the last five years, Objectifs has certainly come a long way in providing a platform for aspiring photographers and filmmakers. With the advent of galleries dedicated to exhibiting photography works and the recently set-up Sinema at Old School, all this can only mean good news to an industry that is definitely on the rise. With all this infrastructure in place, many hobbyists and aspiring students will look forward to establishing new careers. Indeed, what better way than to start their artistic journey at Objectifs! Objectifs is located at 12A Liang Seah Street S’pore 189033. More information is available at www.objectifs.com.sg Written by Syed Muhd Hafiz Lens speak: Art photography by Simon Carr  It is hard to miss the cinematic in Simon’s photographs which, he explains, comes from growing up on British Television and black and white films. The distinctive aspects of his artistic process are darkroom manipulation and layering of photographs, often intersecting or deriving from film images, to produce one-of-a-kind prints reminiscent of early daguerreotypes. Simon's oeuvre includes exquisitely detailed portraits, lyrical female nude forms, and abstract experimental photographs. Here is a selection of Simon’s delicate, evocative works. Simon Carr is a film-maker and award-winning photographer, currently living and working in Singapore. Simon has a degree in visual communication, three solo exhibitions and dozens of short films under his belt. Current projects are an upcoming documentary style exhibition as well as a photo film documentation of Kuo Chuan Avenue. He can be found at www.simoncarr.org. An Eye for the Exquisite  Muslim children sit inside a refugee camp in Gujarat, May, 2002. Ami Vitale may be a photojournalist—bringing to mind visions of grim and news-focussed individuals who frequent the war zones of the world—but her work betrays an artistic eye, regardless of her choice of subject. Ami has an enchanting take on an embattled world: she has documented the West African village of Dembel Jumpora in Guinea-Bissau, and essayed the tightening Western grip on a traditional Muslim culture. While her gritty images display the hardships and blood and gore of war-torn regions, a serene softness emits from them, nonetheless. The photographs do not just shock; they strike awe and generate a sense of wonder. Like the best works of art, they draw you into their world, and, at the same time, offer you a distant, bird’s-eye perspective, and a more detailed view. This power to engulf and, somehow, simultaneously elevate is what makes her images stand out. While photographs can be created for a number of reasons—whether it is a commercial venture, a fashion shoot, portraiture, or documenting a war—the artistic element can still be apparent. Each image is a world in itself, and the creator of the image, while she has used existing subjects, has portrayed them in a new and completely different light. In the photographer’s own words, “There are rare moments in time when you can capture a window into the past, and a vision of the future.” She certainly seems to have developed a knack for finding those rare moments. Vitale graduated from the University of North Carolina, where she studied international relations, and also where she first ventured into photography. After internships with USA Today and the Associated Press, she knew her calling was to be out there in the world taking pictures, and not seated at a desk just looking at them. The year 1999 in Kosovo offered her a break in the form of a big story, and she’s been a freelance photojournalist ever since. That Vitale is a freelancer is key to the substance of her oeuvre. Her freelance operations have helped in a particular evolution of her craft, especially in the development of an artistic eye. Vitale carries an F100 and a D1X with her. She believes in immersing herself into the place, or culture, she is documenting. For instance, she spent two years living in India while covering various events there. While she might be recording the political situation in Kashmir, the images she creates are of a hauntingly beautiful lake, awakening a whirlpool of emotions in the viewer, and indeed, also achieving her goal of provoking thought. Her images of people are just as arresting, almost as if she captures some of the essence of the person. There is a sense of being introduced to that human being. The subsequent realisation that you have not met the person actually comes as a shock. Consider the picture of Muslim children inside a camp for displaced people, which Vitale took after the Hindu-Muslim riots in 2002, in India. While the atrocities she witnessed left her badly shaken, she found hope and comfort in these children, in their zest for life that seemed to triumph over even the most trying conditions. The amazing part is, when you look at the image, you know exactly what she means: every face is alive with joy. It’s the perfect capture of unadulterated emotion. Indeed, an image might be clicked in an instant, but the layers of hidden meaning and symbolism—perhaps those the artist herself is unaware of—take the remainder of its existence to get unravelled, or even stay hidden forever As photographs become legitimate collectors’ items, fetching millions at auctions, it helps to remember that art in photography exists everywhere, not just on the immaculate white walls of galleries and museums. Written by Nandini Narayana An Interview with Sean Lee By Lim Kok Boon  Image courtesy of the artist A young artist on the local art scene, Sean Lee lives and works in Singapore. He has recently completed solo exhibitions in Siem Reap and Singapore, and was awarded the Special Jury Prize (2007) in the Angkor Photo Festival Workshop, Cambodia. KB: Your works look incredibly cinematic, reminiscent of a few Hong Kong cinematographers. Is there a difference between photography and cinema? SL: In most cases, photography and cinema are quite different. In some ways, the ‘system’ I shoot with is like shooting a film. I ‘direct’ and I ‘act’. But sometimes this direction takes on new meaning and trust when the camera is handed over to another person who doesn’t know the equipment to shoot for me. You definitely don’t find that happening often in films. My main concept is to make a story of this ladyboy, to get into her role, to become her. The story develops, like a film narrative. She has friends and family, a personal history, different experiences that get weaved into sets and stills to be photographed. The images I stage are inherently different from shooting a documentary. It’s not as if I can’t get the scenes but, to some extent, it is important that I become the character I create. KB: In other words, you are both the lead and the mind behind the camera? SL: Yes. KB: Where were these photographs taken? SL: Temple Bar is a pick-up joint. There’s a back street with no street lamp near Zanzy Bar– that’s another. Mambo Bar is another real location where ladyboys wait to be picked up. KB: What were your inspirations for the shoot? Any specific examples from cinema? SL: None, actually. This system I’ve been working on was developed some time ago. I used to get people to act, and I would do the photography. When I was in Cambodia for a photography workshop, I myself had to act. The inspiration and material would be the ladyboys I was introduced to, and later became friends with. It was quite natural that I would be attracted to them, because they were so unique. My mentor was Magnum photographer Antoine D’Agata, and he took me around the bars and introduced me to a ladyboy. KB: Would you say you were influenced by his work? SL: Not really, no. KB: What about artists? Are there other artists’ works that you admire? SL: Jeff Wall, Philip-Lorca diCorcia, and Cindy Sherman. They are all quite similar. Jeff Wall is like a sociologist, his photographs are very choreographed. He is an art history lecturer, and he orchestrated a few history paintings, staged as photographs. Philip-Lorca diCorcia paid male prostitutes to act in his photos. The titles he uses are simply facts, such as the model’s name, the price he paid the model and the obscene price of the artwork. KB: It’s like revealing the ugly transaction and the irony when the price escalates just because the photograph of the taboo subject has become art. SL: Yes, and Cindy Sherman because she makes film stills too. KB: Does the venue in which the work is shown alter the message of the work? Does it add to or subtract from the work? SL: It’s neither. It’s a different circuit. I am not sure how the residents around Rowell Road will take it. But I know that the friends I’d made in Siem Reap would be excited to see the works. KB: Do you think there’s any social agenda behind your work? SL: None. KB: What next? SL: I’m having a group show in Hong Kong from July to September. Some of these pictures will be shown there. In September, some of these will also travel to the Shanghai Contemporary Art Fair. Sean Lee is represented by Ooi Botos Gallery, Hong Kong. His latest exhibition The Life of Shauna will be held from 15 - 29 June 2008 in the Show Room, Post-Museum as part of the Month of Photography 2008. This column is presented by Post-Museum, a new cultural space in Little India which seeks to examine contemporary life, promote the arts and connect people. For more details, visit www.post-museum.org or call 63963598. Of Photography II By Chris Yap & Usha Nathan Month of Photography and growing an audience ‘Month of Photography’ (MOP) returns this year in a new avatar. Re-christened as the ‘Month of Photography Asia’, it is no doubt bolstered with an ambitious marketing campaign, and proclaims its aim as that of becoming “one of the top photography festivals in the region.” There are obvious reasons why this would be the aspiration for a festival organiser but what is crucial is to look beyond the rhetoric and study what this year’s MOP entails, and what it means for photography in Singapore. These and other such questions are the focus of my on-going discussion with Chris. There is a wide spread perception of a certain universality in the reach of photography as an art form. The accessibility of the medium or, in the other words, the fact that anyone and everyone can and does take photographs, allows for the assumption that the appreciation of photography is a given. But such an assumption takes away something from the complexity and richness of the medium. Though one could agree that there is a lesser hurdle to photography as compared to other traditional art forms, as the audience (the average educated layperson) would more readily walk into a photography exhibition, this is only the very first step. Chris talks of the importance of “building” an audience, the emphasis being on a somewhat slow, laborious process that is necessary for establishing a common ground for photography to be appreciated and discussed in its own right. While it might be tempting to opt for quick-fix solutions, there is no easy way to get there. It is crucial to bear these points in mind while thinking about some of the issues that MOP contends with. At the outset, it would be useful to look into the history of the festival itself. MOP was introduced in 2002. A large series of exhibitions of internationally renowned photographers as well as local photographers was featured. The year 2004 was significant as the festival was designed around a central theme for the first time, “Popular Culture”, and involved the Singapore Art Museum, simultaneously forging a link with contemporary art. In 2006, a fresh addition was made to MOP: a feature exhibition titled ‘Out of Focus’ of emerging Singaporean photographers, curated by Objectifs. Through the years, the festival has enjoyed the continued support of the French embassy and Alliance Françoise. Returning this year, the festival will be putting together five exhibitions, including ‘Out of Focus’. Over the years, the festival has brought to Singapore, some of the world’s greatest photographers, including Henri-Cartier Bresson, Martin Parr, Andre Kertsez and many more. The festival has been a window of sorts into the possibilities of this captivating medium. Given the comparatively nascent state of photography in Singapore, this window is no doubt valuable to the community and to anyone who is interested in the art form. However, we can expect some changes this year, particularly in terms of the theme and the ‘target audience’. The theme for 2008 is ‘Still/Moving’. In other words, this year MOP will look at the photographic and the cinematic, and consider a range of possibilities and cross-overs bridging various genres of photography—journalistic, experimental or abstract, and conceptual. The inclusion of cinema within the theme of MOP seems to be a bonus, as there is definitely a lot to be gained from studying photography in relation to film, a subject that has been put forth in exhibitions and international festivals for at least the last few decades. Both the mediums are related at the level of artistic creation especially as far as technological aspects intervene in and enrich the possibilities for each medium. One of the key exhibitions at MOP, for instance, looks at these intersections at the level of conception and process, through the works of Alain Fleischer, an acclaimed filmmaker and photographer. This exhibition promises to be an instructive experience, and very revealing with respect to the understanding of how photography and film have and could continue to shape contemporary art and its sensibilities. The centre-piece of MOP, however, is a show at Cathay titled ‘The Magic of Cinema’ which, as the name suggests, is an ode to film. The festival kicks off with this key exhibition and it will also be the largest within the festival this year. This could be a dicey venture considering it overtly caters to a popular cinema audience who may or may not develop an interest in photography. And this direction could be worrying to the extent that it compromises the goal of exposing local audiences and photographers to exemplary photographs and masters of the craft, as has been done in the past years. Chris feels that there needs to be a sense of ownership, in the sense that we have to be aware of the danger of photography becoming secondary to the celebration of film. Given the history of MOP’s offerings in the past, might this one then prove to be a disappointment to those truly interested and immersed in the art of photography? One of the reasons for the theme this year, I am told, is related to the interest in drawing a larger pool of people to patronise the festival. Quite understandably, film seems to be a good choice given that there are more film-goers than those who would religiously attend photography exhibitions. And this is possibly also a reason behind the choice of Cathay as a venue for MOP this year – the theatre sees traffic of a few thousand people in a week. Needless to say, when the festival winds to a close, we will have official reports highlighting the largest audience figures in the history of MOP. But what kind of numbers are these? Do they indeed reflect a successful growth in the interest in photography? Returning once again to where we started out, audience for photography isn’t a given. If the new direction for MOP, as MOP Asia, is indeed to grow an audience by getting those who are not already invested in photography to come and indulge themselves, then merely giving them the opportunity is only the bare minimum; more emphasis needs to be given to the pedagogical element within the festival that will grow a supportive audience in the long run. And if the festival is concerned with enriching and informing the community of photographers and photography enthusiasts, as has been the case in the past, these interests should continue to feature as one of the key priorities in designing the mix of the festival, while seeking new directions of photography. This column is a collaboration between the editor, Usha Nathan and the renowned Singaporean fine art photographer and Master Printmaker Chris Yap. Chris’s works have been shown widely across Asia including the internationally acclaimed Chobi Mela, Angkor photography festival, in a satellite event part of the Singapore Biennale 2006, and the ongoing Month of Photography, Tokyo. He also conducts talks around Asia Pacific, teaches photography at several educational and corporate institutions, and is the adjunct lecturer at Nanyang Technological University, School of Art, Design and Media. The ‘Other’ Spaces (5) Alternative Arts Venues  Gallery space in grey projects Continuing in the local tradition of ‘converting’ shop houses into spaces of commercial and creative use, grey projects is an artist-run space located along Zion Road. Walking along the row of yellowed shop houses, you might be inclined instead to cross over to the bustling Great World City, but do so at your own loss. Started towards the end of 2007, grey projects functions as a contemporary arts space and also houses owner Jason Wee’s fabulous library. Not that Wee intended for it to be a public library, but the avid reader in this writer could not help getting distracted by the floor-to-ceiling shelves during the course of the interview (the rear unit is also his residence). Returning from his studies overseas, Jason had initially been slated to take over another artists-run space, Plastique Kinetic Worms, until a collective decision was made to cease operations of the gallery. Coupled with his family moving out of the Zion Road unit, Jason was faced with a large space at his residence, and he decided to use it for showcasing contemporary art. Primarily, grey projects functions as a point of discourse for young artists and young curators. This should mean good news for aspiring curators, as often curators lack the platform to showcase their proposals. Curators working in government institutions tend to be burdened by top-down directives, but working independently allows them that extra bit of freedom to explore more thought-provoking and ‘non-mainstream’ issues. Entering the gallery space, one might be struck by the bare unpainted grey walls and high ceilings. This design fits well with the nature of contemporary art, where oftentimes odd-sized installations provide a challenge to the curators of conventionally-sized gallery spaces. Whether intentionally or not, the name grey projects seems to further emphasise the space’s role in catering to non-mainstream works. Neither black nor white, neither commercial nor lightweight, grey projects aims to support that undefined (and probably un-definable) middle-ground gap in the burgeoning contemporary arts scene in Singapore. Not just catering to installations, grey projects is also open to other visual art forms like new media art and performance art. Jason, apart from maintaining the space, also holds the curatorial direction of the space, and he has absolutely no qualms regarding other mediums, as long as the works challenge the audiences. As the space is relatively new, it has only hosted one exhibition so far, titled gloaming. Curated by Guo-Liang Tan, it featured works by Li Cassidy-Peet, Donna Ong, Jack Youngblood and Issei Yoshida. The exhibition, which ended in May, had such an overwhelming response that it was extended beyond its original one-month duration. Jason, who is also an artist, is planning around six exhibitions a year, with supplementary workshops and talks also in the pipeline. So mark out your calendars—there are a lot of edgy and promising collaborations coming out from this space. grey projects is located at 40 Zion Road Singapore 247774. At the moment, the grey projects website is still being set up. For more information on the gallery and upcoming exhibitions, email Jason at greyprojects@gmail.com or call +65 6836 9500. Written by Syed Muhd Hafiz Design Scene Singapore Ouch! SDF reviews reviewed Browsing the design magazines at Borders in March, I happened to come across a review of last year's Singapore Design Festival in the UK’s ‘icon’ magazine. What really drew me to the article was not that it was a review of the festival per se, but that the author had picked up on Hanami, Little Red Dots’ contribution to Utterubbish. Intrigued, since ‘icon’ is a highly regarded design publication, I read on, only to discover that the author was generally unimpressed by the Singapore contribution. “There’s plenty of foreign design at the festival,” he observes, “but where’s the Singaporean design?” Further on in the article he lamented that whatever Singaporean design there was, bar the odd possible exception such as I am a Creative Person, felt generally rather weak. The two examples cited, which seem to have led him to this conclusion, were Little Red Dots’ and Asylum’s – “cute ideas,” he remarked, “but not enough.” Having said this, however, he did then go on to speculate whether this general sense of ‘being thin on the ground’ was really a fair assessment of Singapore design or, as one prominent designer complained to him at Utterubbish, ‘the result of government-inspired curation favouring the jetlagged inter-national names over the small indigenous scene.’ Some further research revealed that ‘icon’ was not the only international design magazine that was left shaking its head at local efforts. Dutch magazine ‘Frame’, an equally mid-brow and respected title from Holland, painted an even bleaker picture. The article entitled ‘Foreign Affairs’ in its March/April issue began: ‘At the Singapore Design Festival, design was used primarily as a marketing tool to promote a country whose home-grown talent is not yet strong enough to support a major event.’ Given that sort of introduction it’s pretty much a foregone conclusion what’s going to follow. Speaking to a couple of people closely connected with the organisation of the festival, I detected from them a slight air of resignation with regard to these negative reviews. “They’re harsh but generally right,” said one, putting on a brave face. “What can we do,” said the other, “other than accept it and hope the tide will, at some point, change?” Picking up on what I saw as some errors and inaccuracies in the coverage of Little Red Dots’ work in ‘icon’, I wrote to the author pointing these out and also addressing the ‘thinness’ issue. While not wishing to appear over pedantic, I argued, it is attention to detail which gives a work meaning and depth, and that I felt our work in Utterubbish, and in the festival as a whole, had those qualities in abundance. With fundamental errors in the description of the piece, it goes without saying that one is inevitably going to find it ‘thin’. A few days later I received a very detailed reply from ‘icon’, responding to each of my points at length. The author apologised profusely for the errors and inaccuracies and listed reasons as to why these might have occurred, i.e. a rushed schedule, limited space in the magazine, etc. After a couple more emails in both directions, the exchange has now begun to develop into a very positive and interesting dialogue, which I feel confident will be ongoing. The point of this anecdote is that by responding to criticism in an assertive way, I was able to build on something that, to the eyes of some in the outside world, is considered trivial. It may not be much at this stage, but it is perhaps a step in the right direction, at least. My feeling is that if Singapore wishes to be taken seriously in the international design arena, it may well need to find ways to assert itself in a similar manner. In order to do this, however, I feel there needs to be a more positive attitude towards art and design criticism here, in general. At the end of the day, criticism, as long as it is not maliciously intended, is simply provocation. If responded to in this light, it has the possibility to lead to fruitful and even enjoyable debate. Once this becomes more established in a culture, there will be greater confidence all round, not only from the local artists and designers making the work, but all those involved in presenting and defending it. In contrast to the ‘icon’ and ‘Frame’ articles, the less mainstream ‘Made 05’ magazine, based in Milan, ran a six page piece by Giovanna Massoni in the March issue, which focused on seeing the design scene and the festival through the eyes of Dr Milton Tan, the executive director of the Design Singapore Council. Whilst not a review, as such, the article is interesting in its alternative approach. Massoni could, perhaps, quite easily have done a similar type of review to those in ‘icon’ and ‘Frame’, but chose instead to examine things from the inside. For many of us involved in design here, the article may not have told us anything particularly new, but that’s not so important. What’s more interesting is the apparent desire to build bridges, which Massoni appears to be demonstrating through her interest and curiosity about Singapore and its design scene. Whilst I argue that we shouldn’t take it lying down from the ‘big boys’, and that challenging them could lead to opportunities, recognising and courting these more subtle approaches from the less well-known, and perhaps more discerning voices, could well prove to be a very fruitful and less bruising route to recognition further afield. I was aware of articles about the festival in other magazines, but the only other extended coverage that I was able to lay my hands on appeared in the April issue of ‘Singapore’s Designer’ magazine, which dedicated practically the whole issue to what really amounted to a ‘look back’ at the festival. While this nostalgia trip is perhaps fine in itself — and to be fair, there was a very nice photo of LRD’ Hanami as well as a luscious spread of My Universal Home that Little Red Dots was also part of — it’s not particularly challenging. Indeed, re-visiting the festival in this way five months after it had finished felt, to me, a little like a shortage of ideas. If there is some truth in that, it may be as much a reflection on the design scene in Singapore as it is of the magazine itself. Either way, it seems to highlight the fact that there is a potential here for much more. Nick Charnley is a British artist and educator based in Singapore. He is also joint creative director of Little Red Dots, a Singapore based design agency he co-founded in November 2004 with American artist Nathaniel Walters. Little Red Dots’ website can be found at www.little-red-dots.com Review 21 years of the Singapore International Film Festival  SIFF team. From L-R: SIFF Board Member Jasmine Ng, SIFF Festival Director Philip Cheah, SIFF Festival Manager Yuni Hadi “A Dream Goes on Forever ... At least, that's what we like to think after 21 years. If we have tried to dream your dreams, it's only because we have wanted to meet you in ours.” So reads the epigram on the programme notes released by Philip Cheah, the director of the Singapore International Film Festival (SIFF) for 2008. While the festival has continued to provide a selection of more than 200 films from 40 countries, there is something special about it this time: SIFF has turned 21 this year. 21 is the legal age for viewing ‘objectionable’ films in Singapore (as deemed by the local censorship authorities), and SIFF has cheekily acknowledged this fact with the R (21) theme for the party they held for filmmakers. This coming of age was initially marked by some key developments reported in the press earlier in the year, on purported grant cuts and the leaving of two core members of the organising team, along with a longtime sponsor. With new sponsors, a new director, Jasmine Ng, and a new manager and programmer, Yuni Hadi, the film festival this year seems to be renewing itself for the future.The SIFF is an annual ten-day celebratory affair which showcases films that are not of the mainstream ilk. Director Philip Cheah explains that the SIFF’s first vision was that the festival had to have “an Asian voice”, with a policy of maintaining at least 50% of its programming content Asian, a vision that has remained and expanded over the past 21 years. This year saw more than 60% of the films at the film festival coming from Asia, mostly due to the vast amount of material as a result of filmmakers adopting digital filmmaking. Since its inception, the SIFF has been instrumental and profoundly influential in bringing Asian cinema to Singaporeans, Asians and the rest of the world. Since 1994, the film festival has been promoting films from Southeast Asia with the likes of the retrospectives of Thai filmmaker Prince Chatri screened, and in six years, SIFF has opened a window for Southeast Asian cinema to the international film festival circuit and developed a steady audience. Since 1994, the film festival has been promoting films from South-East Asia with the likes of the retrospectives of Thai filmmaker Prince Chatri screened, and in six years, SIFF has opened a window for Southeast Asian cinema to the international film festival circuit and developed a steady audience. In 2003, it extended this window to the cinema of the Arab world with its ‘Secret Life of Arabia’ programme, with the intention of opening it up towards Asia, since much of the Arab world is, interestingly, not recognised as part of Asia—not by the Asians, not even by the Arabs themselves. Indeed, if there is anything that the SIFF has given Singaporeans and Asians over the years, it is the opportunity to express and clearly look at ourselves as Asians, and not just in relation to the West. “I think along the years, we have tried to identify Asia for Asians,” Cheah says. SIFF has also established itself as a rallying point for the local filmmaking industry; Tan Pin Pin’s appeal to the media authorities for increased funding for SIFF is testimony to its continued significance. This year’s SIFF saw the introduction of a new programme section, Singapore Panorama, featuring 13 Singaporean features and documentaries. Cheah explains that many Singaporean filmmakers knew that the festival would be a platform for them and, hence, many films were finished in time for screening at the festival. When asked about present-day Singaporean cinema, Cheah says, “I think the younger generation of film directors wants to experiment with the subject matter. That, to me, is the thing that is moving forward. So you have films, like Kan Lume’s Dreams from the Third World, which are very independent in spirit, in terms of production values; or, like Lucky7, where you have seven directors who don’t know what the end product of the film is; they’re just trying.. So you can sense that the younger generation is trying to say things through cinema.” However, Cheah notes that there still seems to be a problem in terms of lack of freedom of space for filmmakers here, as indirectly suggested by the decidedly foreign focus of the Singapore documentaries. Despite the installation of more rating systems over the years, everything is still subject to being cut, hence creating a culture of censorship with which audiences and distributors become complicit (like when distributors submit a film for a reclassification of another rating). Also, while audiences have increasingly flocked to catch Asian films, Cheah says that it still remains hard to draw audiences for cinematic trend-breaking films, such as the cinema of Lav Dias, a Filipino filmmaker whose last four films have been epics. This year, the SIFF screened Death in the Land of Encantos, Dias’ 10-hour long film which was screened to an audience of 20 people. “Everyone is rushed for time, and they don’t want to take too many chances, which is unfortunate, because I think that the whole festival culture is about taking chances,” Cheah says. Despite this, the festival has, over the years, maintained its integrity while promoting quality films, and it is this commitment to the craft of films and the establishment of Asian film identity that distinguishes it. Cheah’s response to a question on what he foresees for the SIFF in the future: “I don’t like answering that because, to me, cinema is like farming: you never know what the crop’s going to be like. It’s not an industrial conveyor belt means of production. It’s a farming thing, so the filmmaker watches things grow and we are like that; we wait to see what the crop is like.” Cheah continues, “If you notice now, you have an agrarian shortage problem. A lot of the farming crops are decimated, because a lot of countries have stopped treating their agriculture sector as something special in itself. They wanted to treat it as an industry, and this is a problem, because it isn’t an industry. That’s why, when you keep talking about funding, it’s wrong. It’s not the way to treat the arts. The arts must be cared for, it must be loved. And if you keep talking about money, you’re barking up the wrong tree. You’ll fail. There’s no short cut to the arts.” After 21 years, this uncompromising passion for the love of the art of filmmaking remains with the SIFF. Through its work, Singaporean and international audiences have been enriched by the exposure to what it means to be Asian, what it means to be aware and to know, and what it means to dream. Written by Wong May Ee. The writer is a graduate student who is currently enrolled in the Masters in Literary Studies (Research) programme at NUS. She was a volunteer in the 21st Singapore International Film Festival, and her interests lie in subjects pertaining to English literature, film, critical theory, cultural theory, media, technology and the city. Vietnamese Art after Doi Moi  Cockfight. Tran Trong Vu. 1989. Oil on paper. 27 x 50 cm Ever since the economic transformation of Vietnam’s economy, from a subsidised system to an open-market system, took place in the mid-1980s, the development in modern and contemporary art practices has assumed a more pluralistic nature. The artists in the North cannot be simply categorised as focusing solely on figurative and narrative representations, nor can the Southern artists be grouped as mere abstract painters. Instead, the boundaries are beginning to blur as interaction and exchanges are easily facilitated in an open-economy environment. Newer art forms such as installation and performance art are also being embraced with greater experimentations in forms becoming evident, making the Vietnamese art scene a thriving and exciting one. Doi Moi, which means renovation, a term applied to the policies that were implemented in 1986, has afforded the artists practising afterwards greater freedom in expression. The exhibition in the Singapore Art Museum, Post-Doi Moi: Vietnamese Art After 1990, is set to examine the trends and developments in the intermediate period, up to the present. It is the first time that such an exhibition has been attempted to examine the impact of the policies in Vietnam’s art making, as well as to explore the current trends. In addition to the exhibition, a 3-day symposium on modern and contemporary Vietnamese art will be held, with speakers from Vietnam, the United States, France and Australia invited to speak and provide a context for the understanding of these current developments. Among the speakers are Professor Nora Taylor (United States), who is well-known for her research on Vietnamese art, Nguyen Quan (Vietnam), who played a key and influential role in the development of contemporary art in the immediate Post-Doi Moi period, and Adrian Jones, a British collector who has devoted much resources and time in researching Vietnamese art. In conjunction with the exhibition and to facilitate cultural and art exchanges, young Vietnamese and Singaporean artists are brought together to participate in a 10-day workshop moderated by established artists Lee Wen (Singapore), Tran Luong (Vietnam) and Jason Lim (Singapore), under Project Ket Noi: Dialogue and Exchange between Vietnam and Singapore. This event (Ket Noi translates as “to connect”) will culminate in a 3-day performance art event that will feature the various aspects of this artistic phenomenon. Post-Doi Moi: Vietnamese Art after 1990 Singapore Art Museum 15 May to 28 September 2008 Symposium on Vietnamese Modern and Contemporary Art Singapore Art Museum 16 to 18 May 2008 Ket Noi: Dialogue and Exchange between Vietnam and Singapore Singapore Management University 6 to 8 June 2008 Details on the above events can be found at www.singart.com. All photos are courtesy of Singapore Art Museum and the paintings belong to the Collection of the Museum. Ramon Orlina’s Luminosity  Holy Family-08 Ramon Orlina, the sculptor famous for creating Quintessence, the 75 sq. foot glass and bronze installation done in 1995 that is a centerpiece at the Singapore Art Museum, returns to Singapore this year for a very special exhibit. Titled ‘Glass & Brass’, the show opens on June 5, 2008 at the SMU Art Gallery and will showcase 18 major Orlina pieces, alongside brass works by fellow Filipino sculptor, Michael Cacnio. Glass & Brass is the opening exhibit for Art Trek, a series of art events in the month of June in celebration of the Philippine National Day. Presented by the Philippine Embassy, Galerie Joaquin and Utterly Art, the show features works done specially for the occasion. These pieces include Michael's Martial Arts, Holy Family-08, In Mother’s Embrace as well as the 80 kg five-piece sculptures Skyscrapers and Garden City. Aside from works in Orlina's beloved green asahi glass, the exhibit will include pieces in unusual colours such as azure blue, amber and lime green. While most glass sculptures are heated and blown in order to form shapes while the medium is still malleable, Orlina’s style is creatively different. Art historian Dr. Rod Paras-Perez, in an article written for the Asia Times titled “Heart of Glass”, notes that Orlina “molds the glass as a sculptor would a piece of marble or any stone. Often by painstakingly guiding each work into the shape or form he wants.” The artist has had 28 one-man shows in a stellar career and has also participated in group shows all over the world. Glass & Brass is a much anticipated return for Orlina who was last in Singapore for a show titled ‘Forms of Light’ in 1991 at the then National Museum Art Gallery. Glass & Brass will be held at the SMU Art Gallery, Level 1, School of Economics and Social Sciences, 90 Stamford Road. It will commence on Thursday, 5 June, at 7pm and continue till Friday, 13 June. Opening hours will be 11am to 7pm from 6 June. For more information, call (65) 67253113. Or visit www.galeriejoaquin.com.sg The Substation Conducts Experiments with Live Humans  Circus. An experimental theatre work While animal testing has been a hotly debated issue in scientific research, in recent months there have been cases of terrible animal cruelty even under the guise of making art. So why has The Substation started a programme that uses human beings as lab rats? We talk to some of the artists at The Substation to find out exactly what’s going on behind those signature red doors on Armenian Street. The folks at The Substation realise that artists need to train, think and test out concepts and ideas, just like in a lab, so they have launched a new performance programme called Performance Lab which gives artists space as well as artistic guidance and mentorship. It’s a natural addition, as The Substation is already known for incubating emerging artists and is clearly the go-to place for catching diverse and adventurous works. So far this year four works by artists have been shown under the Performance Lab umbrella, namely, Thought Intervals, a dance theatre piece by Jayanthi Siva, an experimental theatre work called Circus, headed by Noor Effendy Ibrahim and Rizman Putra, a multi-media dance performance called Boundaries… Dreams… Beyond by Raka Maitra, and PRAY, a movement theatre piece directed by Law Soo Leng and Richard Philip. And, during the remainder of 2008, Elizabeth de Roza will present Still Flight Version 3, Magdalena (Singapore)’s women’s writers’ group will work on four new plays, and Nelson Chia will present the second phase of Nanjing: 1937. The Substation, often having a very non-Singaporean mindset, is not necessarily expecting finished works to come out of it, and so In Source Theatre (IST) will continue their regular training under Performance Lab, too. We talked to some of these artists and it seems that the creation of Performance Lab addresses three main issues. Firstly, in land-scarce Singapore, space is highly sought-after and can be expensive to rent. As such, The Substation’s provision of rehearsal and performance space is hugely significant, but it also includes creative head-space. For Elizabeth, being given both physical and mental space allows her “the freedom and encouragement to explore and dig deeper” into her own practice. For Low Yuen Wei of IST, this metaphoric space “serves as a strong driving force, providing motivation and morale support.” A further by-product of being in The Substation’s space is the creation of dialogue amongst like-minded artists. Nelson and Elizabeth agree that the environment enables them to network and interact with other artists and, as Nelson puts it, this interaction “is the only way to learn besides doing it yourself.” Secondly, there seems to be pressure to churn out finished works lickety-split. Yuen Wei says that The Substation’s belief in works that don’t merely cater to the supply and demand mechanism of the market is essential to the development of In Source Theatre’s works. Nanjing: 1937 was Nelson’s first crack at writing and performing a solo piece, a rare opportunity in such a results-driven culture. Nelson’s history with The Substation has meant that he has had the opportunity to “explore and develop works that are usually considered ‘not in line’ with general direction, or simply too luxurious for most theatre companies to consider producing.” In Effendy’s opinion, Performance Lab’s concept is necessary as it is where “the process takes precedence over the product. The challenge is to anchor this concept into the psyche of the local arts community first, which appears to be distracted by rising costs and results, instead of embracing mistakes and struggles.” Effendy’s comments lead us to the third issue: money. To save money, most artists do a lot of peripheral work themselves, such as securing funding, working with technical crews, searching for props, creating costumes and chasing publicity to get those crucial bums on seats—all this on top of holding down day jobs that pay the rent and buy the groceries. As Verena Tay of Magdalena opines, “I’m having to multi-task to get projects off the ground, thereby taking focus away from the art and craft.” The toughest challenge for Raka is that after every production she seems to go broke. “To make a production successful one needs a good light designer, musician, production manager, etc and somehow the grant we get is never enough to hire the best.” Performance Lab’s provision of physical space, marketing and artistic guidance support will hopefully alleviate some of this fiscal crunch and allow the artists to focus solely on their art in an environment that encourages experimentation. So dial yourself into The Substation and keep track of what these human lab rats are creating in their Performance Lab. If the works that we’ve already seen this year are any indication, we should be witnessing some wonderful works during the rest of 2008, works that certainly deserve your support. An emerging Chinese artist: Xu Dong Lin  Autumn Scenery in Wu Yi. 80x100cm, Oil on canvas, 2007 As an artist, Xu possesses rare enviable, relentless determination to forge a highly individualistic and original style in his paintings. He is particularly concerned with the investigation, discovery and exploitation of the untapped possibilities in the oil medium in order to fashion new directions. Xu’s forte is the uncanny fusion of classic oil techniques that practices that originated in the West with his personal, quintessential Chinese themes, sensibilities and experiences. Consciously keeping away from the repetitive works churned out with a fixed formula, he strives to inject a stirring individuality driven by fresh inspiration and emotions in each of his works. Each new work must offer the viewer a fresh visual experience. Indomitable Spirit: The Art of Tan Choh Tee  The old town of lijiang. 53x63cm I had the opportunity to meet this humble and highly acclaimed artist at a group show amongst his peers more than six months ago. During our discussion of his artworks, I discovered the vivid sensory experiences that stirred the creation of each of his paintings. And I could see how the creations depicted particular perceptions of colour and form formed by sensory intervention– rich, humane, individual. Tan Choh Tee has created prolifically during his artistic practice that spans close to four decades. Practising as a full-time artist since 1976, he has done study tours in various parts of the world, including the famed Dun-Huang caves. He was awarded the Cultural Medallion in 2006. Tan Choh Tee’s works range from many varied landscapes from across the world and include still life studies that have the same meticulous engagement as the former. These include the familiar scenes of the Singapore River, Chinatown, and span his extensive travels to places such as Bali, Nepal, Paris, and his birthplace Swatou. Each creation offers vistas for visual experience; often touching on the certain elusive quality that fellow artist Choy Weng Yang calls the “spirit of his (the artist’s) environment.” The artist paints plein air, often reflecting on the atmosphere and his distinct experience of the place. Colour is key to his compositions, which reflect a captivation with atmospheric light. The brushwork is agile and resonates with the mood of the place. The juxtaposition of forms reveals the creative synergies of Chinese ink, Western oil techniques and artistic innovation that the artist brings to his practice. Each composition hence emerges with a singularity, clarity of vision, and recreates for the viewer the allure of the locale with all of its nostalgia. The overall abundance of the artist’s oeuvre stands as a testament to his commitment to art, and it is easy to see why he is a revered artist not only in Singapore but elsewhere, too. Written by Usha M. Nathan A selection of Tan Choh Tee’s works will be showcased in the exhibition ‘Indomitable Spirit – The Art of Tan Choh Tee’, which opens at Heng Artland Co Pte Ltd on the 28th June and runs till 7th July 2008. For further information please refer to www.hengartland.com Narratives of the present The art of Jiang Huan  Lost in Translation Created with the dexterity derived from practiced draftsmanship, the paintings of Jiang Huan are alluringly real. The palette is luxuriant, complete with the hues of royal red, emerald green, golden tints, earthy browns and more. And it is emboldened with a wide tonal range, and rich details. In these depictions, rendered on large canvases, the artist’s stories come alive and intrigue the casual on-looker. Jiang’s recent composition, Lost in Translation, is a case in point. On the horizontal panel, there appears a narrative that is split into three sections. While the foremost section echoes a by-gone era, the middle portion is dominated by female characters in what appears to be a contemporary setting. The third section depicts a female warrior in a more futuristic garb. While the men on the left are contemplating their next move and the warrior stands ready with her sword, in the centre, the reclined female subjects and the girl in the foreground appear comparatively passive. This juxtaposition heightens the ambivalence of the current times, putting forward a worrisome picture of present-day self-indulgence and indifference as it were. Another notable aspect of Jiang’s narratives is the centering of the female subject. Speaking of the significance of this, he suggests that the differences between the East and West are marked by the dualities of the feminine and the masculine respectively. “They are like what the Chinese call the ‘yin and the yang’ – the two opposing principles in nature,” he says. And, while he agrees that the opposing principles will continue to exist and direct the future developments, he emphasises that the final triumph will be that of the feminine element. He quotes the relevance of the 18th century masterpiece Dream of the red chamber by Cao Xueqin. “The story shows the disappointment in the male (i.e. masculine element) because of his destruction. Only the female (i.e. feminine element) manages to retain the most important human value, which is true love,” he points out. For information about the painting or the artist, contact Mulan Gallery at www.mulangallery.com In Touch with Life with Lu Zhonghan  Peaches with Grace. 46x115cm. “It is important for an artist to have rich life experiences. Painting is practically drawing one’s own self. A truly devoted artist often draws memorable moments that happen around him. Painting is like planting; from seeds to sprouts which blossom to fruition. It is an entirely natural process.” - Lu Zhonghan Born in Xi’an in 1954, Lu Zhonghan is a person of candid character, which is distinguishable of a northerner. A graduate of Xi’an Academy of Fine Arts, Lu Zhonghan became a serious artist in the ’80s. He has received numerous awards and held many successful solo and group exhibitions since 1982. In 1994, he moved to Germany, later returning to Guangdong in 1997. Under Western influences, his paintings portray a combination of the differences between the traditional Oriental culture and the Occidental culture. Lu Zhonghan’s paintings often relate to life’s experiences, capturing the sentiments of daily life. His paintings of flowers and birds are the most desired by many art collectors as they are full of Oriental poetic charm. Be it a common rooster, blades of grass or a wild flower growing along the roadside, insignificant subjects that usually go unnoticed are crowned with an air of pride and beauty within his paintings. He believes that a painting drawn with sincerity and simplicity provides comfort to one’s self. Moving from a traditional to a contemporary platform, Lu Zhonghan emblazons his paintings with strong and swift strokes of the brush, allowing them to become resplendent in bold and brilliant colours. With this, he captures one’s lingering thoughts on the spur of the moment, and creates a new wave of emotion, allowing one to immerse oneself in the soothing settings of his works. ‘In Touch With Life’ by Lu Zhonghan will open on Jun 13 @7pm at The Arts House. The artist will be present for the occasion. The exhibition will be on until Jun 15 at The Arts House and will continue at Lukisan Art Gallery from Jun 17-29. For more information regarding this event, please contact Lukisan Art Gallery Tel:+65 64109663. www.lukisan-art.com. |