Special Column: Singapore Biennale 2008
Grounds for 'Wonder': Expectations from the returning Biennale

It took me a while to locate the venue for the event. After meandering in the labyrinth of construction sites in Marina Bay, I did manage to locate the largely obscure signage, and entered the temporary holding area for the press and invited guests. Talks were made next to a small podium barely a foot away from the onlookers. All the sponsors delivered their five-minute speeches following the Chairman of NAC. And, soon enough, Shigeru Ban's Papertainer Pavilion was ceremoniously inaugurated to a somewhat insipid response. Ah well, the local press did respond quite well by cheerfully, promptly posting the news on websites and dailies, the very next day. It was needless to say everyone, including myself, was enlisted to play our part in the run-up event of the 2008 Biennale, just like the many Biennale ‘Encounters’ prior to this one. Looking back now, I think it is perhaps this ambivalent position of being partly invested in an event that I have come to follow so closely and, yet, seeking to keep a critical distance from it that allows me to consider what I expect of the Biennale this year, as it takes shape.
First and foremost, any Biennale is a cultural event of national significance; at least, this is what Biennales have become in recent times. This Biennale, judging by the trend, could not be anything different. Contemporary art itself has long been viewed as a source of nationalistic pride, and the sheer proliferation of such events across countries is a testament to that. Factually speaking, more than half, or about 65 percent of the 100-plus Biennales in operation today are public or government initiatives 1. Those that are not still receive significant public funding support. So, if Christy Lange of Frieze magazine was surprised that the 2006 “Singapore Biennial was undertaken as a small part of a larger plan to position Singapore on the international stage” 2, I must admit I am amused at the writer’s idealism, or perhaps ignorance. Maybe, the event’s transparency in Singapore threw her off balance!
Returning to this year’s Biennale, it will, not so shockingly, be as much about showcasing the nation-state as it will be about contemporary art. The choice of venues---the futuristic Marina Bay, for instance---is a clear indication of these concerns. Even over the course of the event, the three key venues, City Hall, South Beach and Marina Bay, are expected to be metamorphosing, as they are part of landscapes that are enlisted for redevelopment and transformation in the immediate future. So the Biennale, at least through its immediate context, will showcase the very cutting edge of urbanisation and cosmopolitan sprawl. Interestingly, one could argue that it is a good fertile ground for creative work; imagine the challenge of creating something visually and experientially compelling in the midst of concrete rubble, clutter of cranes, slick skyscrapers and cosmopolitan short attention spans!  
Biennales brim with nationalistic fervor, yes, but let’s not forget the corporates that make them possible. It is not incidental that Biennales share a strong link with commerce. A look at a few of the artists who have shown at the most number of Biennales would tell us right away that these are also familiar names in the art auction circuit, those that are eagerly sought after and associated with enormous price tags. Biennales are undeniably big business; they are about testing new waters in the growing global art market. But, the Biennale happening here this year is more than an art business, as you might note by glancing at the website. From the structure of the web interface, you might infer that the ‘exhibition’ is just one aspect in the list of ‘events’- outreach, education, art tours and packages, corporate venue hiring, art fairs, and more. How true this is of the actual event, and where art will rank in relation to education, tourism and corporate business at the Biennale itself, remains to be seen. But I do admire the zeal that makes this an all-rounded affair, catering, as it were, to the heartlander who sees it on the way to his mall visits, the school-goer who is specially brought around, the corporate employee who can stop by during lunch hours, even the art tourist who will be making a habitual stop-over at his next art destination.
Last, but not the least, the theme this year has set an interesting premise for its own outcome. ‘Wonder’, as you would know, is the feeling of surprise and admiration as well as a sense of curiosity to delve deeper. It is an appropriate theme at a time when even art enthusiasts who frequent Biennales only experience them fleetingly, zipping in and out of countries and often jaded by jet-lag. Biennale 2008 with its refreshing theme would perhaps pave the way for a more enduring experience of art. From the list of the artists for the Biennale, it is clear that a great amount of emphasis has been placed on creating the experience of ‘wonder’ or awe through installations and 3-dimensional works and works in public spaces. But creating a spectacle isn’t necessary to instill or, rather, restore the sense of wonder. My perception of the theme is that if art is something which captivates, jolts or inspires you, then it would be fair to claim that art that is true of itself would make one wonder!
As this Biennale shapes up in the months to come, we would have to wait and see if it is able to enliven our minds to the wonder of creativity.


Written by Usha M. Nathan 


1 The facts are courtesy of Asia Art Archive.
   www.aaa.org.hk/onlineprojects/bitri/en/didyouknow.asp
2 This is an excerpt from a review and a biting criticism of the 2006 Singapore
   Biennale that appeared in the Jan-Feb 2007 issue of Frieze.
   www.frieze.com/issue/article/singapore_shanghai_and_gwangju_biennials

Childhood Charm: The Sculptures of Zhang Hua

Zhang Hua’s sculptures are light and dreamy, yet delightfully real. If only you could join the kids in their frolic or the girls in their careless dances!

The 44-year old artist received his training in sculpting at the Sculpture Department of Hebei Arts and Crafts School in the North Chinese Province. Later, he left Hebei, his hometown, to join the prestigious Central Academy of Fine Arts to receive further training in the ’90s. These days he works in his studio in the northern suburbs of Beijing.
In Zhang Hua’s work you will be sure to find lithe forms defined in fluid lines, evoking the exuberance of life. From the crumple of the fabric to the grace of muscle bending, each aspect of his sculpture is fine and evocative. The figures are elongated with thin extended limbs, echoing the works of Swiss modernist sculptor Giacometti, but in Zhang Hua’s sculptures human figures are invariably caught in mid action and never appear still, posed and static. It is this dynamism and the gaiety of the bodies that arrest the eye.
Zhang Hua draws on childhood memories in his works. Flying is a common motif in many of his works; groups of children are seen engrossed in play, like in the Old Eagle Chasing Chicks or preparing to take off on imaginary wings in Flying dreams. The innocence of desire and the belief in possibilities is, perhaps, what is most strongly conveyed in his sculptures. As such, there is an easy charm in his works that inadvertently reminds one of the magical quality of one’s younger days.

The artist’s works have been installed in the Beijing's International Sculpture Park, which houses a wide variety of works by leading contemporary Chinese sculptors, the China Olympic Park, and in Seoul, as a gift from the Chinese government. Zhang Hua recently won the Silver award for his Water Beauties at the the international competition, 2008 Olympic Landscape Sculpture Design Collection Contest.

Creation and quest
Alain Fleischer

The images are surprisingly supple; they speak directly to you. In them, you would find reflected the artist’s ingenuity and his fascination with creation.

Speaking with Alain Fleischer following a guided tour of his works at the Singapore Art Museum, we discovered a little about his creative process, his inspirations and pursuits.  

You have created in many different forms, as a film-maker, an artist and, more recently, as a writer. But literature seems to have happened much later in your professional career. You started to write and publish 10 years ago or so.
Yes, and the strange thing is that literature was my first project as a child. As a boy I wanted to become a writer and a poet. But I started out with photography, borrowing my father’s camera. I used to do still-life or portrait studies. I was also writing short stories and poems. Professionally, I first became a film-maker. I have done close to 180 films so far.
But, at this point, I am very much concentrating on literature. I have already finished close to 30 books in less than 10 years. It is as though I was late on my own schedule for literature!

But you also wear your other hats, so to speak.
Yes. Of course, I am still doing a lot of films.
In these different disciplines, I feel like a different person- the photographer, the film-maker, the artist, the writer are all different from each other. I am not a film-maker who writes, or a photographer who makes films. I concentrate very much on each project and, each time, I deal with the history and theory of each form.  For instance, all of these images you see in this exhibition are purely photographs, they are not hybrids. Some deal with cinema, but all the works are primarily dealing with photography in theory and technique.

I feel that photography to you is part of a very elaborate artistic process. It is something that comes as the end-point.
Yes. I am very much interested in the process, in knowing how an image is built.
Of course, I have been taking thousands of photographs - portraits of friends, travel photography. I always carry a camera. It is just like a notebook to me.
But, when I do an art piece or a photograph, it is a completely different thing. I am really organising the image, thinking through the process. In my work, it is important that I feel I am inventing or exploring something, going for an adventure.
I must say that a lot of the photographs I see, many done by young photographers, always make me recall something I have already come across. For examples there are thousands of portrait photographs which all seem to be shot in the same style.  

Would you say that the approach to your art is influenced by your educational background in social sciences?
Sure. I have studied anthropology, linguistics, semiology. At one point I was planning to be a university professor, but then I realised that my main interest was in being an artist and in creating things. However, the theories have remained in me; they are like sketches of the mind. Hence, each of my projects is very theoretical.
In my art, I am always working on very, I would say, mental projects. For instance I have been dreaming about some of the works, such as the set of photographs in the exhibition that uses mirrors. I have thought about what the result would be if I pull a mirror, what track would a moving reflection leave on a single photographic print? I was fascinated with these ideas.
Besides, I would say, I am very much concerned with technique, and I think I am a good technician. But, the things I say in film cannot be said in a photograph or a book. The technique of each form is fundamental to the execution of each work.
As such, I strongly believe that you cannot be a good artist if you do not know the technique of your art.

But this elaborate approach is in contrast with the way you write your novels, which are written off the cuff as it were.
It is true that all my books projects start with a simple idea. I discover the book that I want to write during the writing of the book.
It is very different from the way I approach my images. The act of writing and working with language and words makes me discover what I want to say. Actually, I don’t write my books, I dictate them. I am very much concerned with the aural and musical dimension of literature. I think that a text is music, it is rhythm. Words are first sounds before becoming signs or letters.

Coming back to your photography, your work has been compared to one of your contemporaries, Christian Boltanski. How much of this is because of the fact that you belong to the same time period?
Christian has been a good friend for almost 40 years. But, as such, we do not see each other very regularly. We met in 1968, and we have been doing things together. I have been commissioned do some films about him and I have done films with him, too.
Some of his photography could be related to my early experimental films. But my own work, photography, is very different from his works. I was explaining earlier, during the tour, about how some artists believe that photography is related to death. It is very true of Boltanski. For him, every photograph is a track of something that is past, dead. Once you capture it, the moment is already part of the past. But he is not at all interested in the technical or the experimental aspects of photography.

Yes. It is almost as though he is pre-occupied with sociological manifestations of photography.
Very much so. In fact, his interest in photography comes from his brother, a famous sociologist, who wrote a book on amateur photography. Christian looks at collections of found photographs of children, families. On the other hand, I am much more interested in my work to produce images and to explore the limits of photography. I try to include time and movement in photography.
But both Christian and I have the same feelings and ideas about many things; we have also shared ideas in the past. Our work still turns out to be very different.

Considering your interest in images and creating them, what are your views on the influential theories of reality and simulacra by Baudrillard.
He has been very important for me at a particular time. In fact, many philosophers and thinkers have influenced me indirectly since my student days.
I also admit that I am much more interested in works of thinkers such as Baudrillard, than of art historians or art critics. I never read art commentary. I am interested in essays on sociology and anthropology. For example, I have been a student of Levi Straus and, while listening to him, I could be inspired to do a series of photographs or a film. I like to transfer these inspirations of social science or science, in my art.

What do you feel about the way in which a lot of artists have been influenced by the concept of ‘simulation’ and have created works directly using the theory?
I think it is a little naïve. Theory moves in more complicated ways. For instance, I have been very interested in anthropological cinema and documentaries on primitive societies. I am inspired to a film where I can capture the lives of strange people in cities like Paris, filming them through the ‘anthropological lens’. It uses the property of the camera as a way of looking at the world. Theory can be inspiring, but not by doing works of art which become illustrations of theory.

Lastly, returning to your exhibition and this festival, what are your thoughts on the theme for the ‘Month of Photography’- Still/Moving?
I have been experimenting with these two mediums for a long time. But I am seeing an event completely dedicated to that theme for the very first time.
Three years ago, I was asked to be the director of a famous photography festival in France. My proposition was photography and cinema. I was planning to show films dealing with photography, photographers dealing with cinema, films made of still photographs and so on. I did not have the time for it at that time.
The director of this festival has interpreted this theme in a very clever way. And this exhibition has allowed me to look at the things I have done at the very junction of these two mediums. It has been very interesting to discover these. In fact there is lot more of my work that deals with these intersections than what you see here at the exhibition.


Interview by Usha M. Nathan.
Images courtesy of Singapore Art Museum and Phish Communications.

Jogjakarta
A Student City and Cultural Getaway (I)

Jogjakarta is also known as a Kota Pelajar – “student city” in the local lingo due to the fact that Gadjah Mada University (the largest and oldest university in Indonesia) and ISI Jogjakarta (Indonesian Institute of the Arts) are located in this city. Undergraduates from all over Indonesia convene in this city to further their studies and this youthful vibe can be seen throughout the city. Student-oriented amenities like cybercafés, laundries and shopping malls are in abundance. The cost of living is generally cheaper compared to the other states in Indonesia. And, let’s not forget the two UNESCO World Heritage sites, the Borobudur and Prambanan temples. All of this makes the city a must-go destination with tourists and art practitioners.
A 3-page article would not do justice to my five-day trip as there is so much more to say, and many more places within this city worth visiting. But it will provide a brief glimpse of the places that one must visit if they can only afford a few days in Jogjakarta.

Cemeti Art House
Cemeti Art House has been around since 1988. After existing for two decades, it has proven itself to be the foremost contemporary art space in Jogjakarta. Situated along the busy stretch of Panjaitan, the ‘traditional-modern, conventional-innovative’ architecture offers quiet respite for those looking to engage in the current issues affecting the Indonesian art scene.
I managed to catch up with the unassuming and friendly director, Nindityo Adipurnomo for a quick conversation. This exciting space has showcased works by both local and international artists. Prolific in organising exhibitions—at least 11 exhibitions are held each year—the Cemeti Art House also has interesting residency programmes, one of which is ‘Landing Soon’, a three-year exchange programme organised by Artoteek Den Haag, from the Netherlands, and Cemeti Art House. During each artist’s 3-month residency, Dutch as well as local artists are given the space and flexibility to experiment and interact with other artists and professionals while taking on local and global issues.
Though countless exhibitions and programs have taken place, quality still presides over quantity, and careful planning and curation is paramount. For example, the current exhibition taking place at the time of writing is titled alih-alih (‘instead’). Curated by Aminudin TH. Siregar and co-curated by Albert Yonathan Setyawan, this exhibition traverses the discourse between design and art-- fairly rigid terms in the Indonesian art scene.

Jogja Gallery  
Another space worth visiting is the Jogja Gallery. Located in the heritage district of Jalan Pekapalan 7, the gallery has held over 30 exhibitions since it opened its doors in September 2006. The two-storey complex has seen some important exhibitions, including 100 Tahun Kebangkitan Nasional (100 years after the National Awakening Day or National Revival Day) commemorating the first nationalist movement in Dutch East Indies by national hero, Budi Utomo.
Chatting with the gallery’s executive curator, Mikke Susanto, was like meeting an old friend for I had previously assisted him while he participated in an exhibition organised by the Substation and Institute of Contemporary Arts Singapore titled Trading Craft, back in early 2007.
He informed me about another important exhibition held at the gallery last year commemorating iconic Indonesian artist Raden Saleh’s 200-year anniversary. Jogja Gallery is a must-visit for those who want to know in depth, not just the contemporary art scene in Indonesia but also its rich art history.


Written by Syed Muhd Hafiz              

The Sufi Talks Back
An Exhibition on Reading the Archives

Collections and structures with museum-like functions have existed throughout the world, since ancient times. In Asia, precious items have been deposited for safekeeping in temples and shrines as objects imbued with religious and cultural reverence. In Sri Lanka, the sacred tooth relic of the Buddha is preserved at the Sri Dalada Maligawa, which acts as a temple and tourist site. Historically, in tribal villages across the Malay Archipelago, special houses were created to store sacred paraphernalia such as ancestor relics, lineage symbols and other valuables. However, these non-western models have received little attention as alternative articulations of museological, archival and curatorial practice. Professional museology in Asia seems to rest heavily on one knowledge system, namely the modern Western one that is said to have originated in the seventeenth century. This model (with exceptions of course) has dictated how non-western objects are collected, documented, curated and perceived in modern Museums around the world. However, what happens to those objects that we collect as “antiques” or “curios” from our local karanguni store or high-end boutiques, which then come to form part of the decorative landscape of our homes? Late artist Mohammad din Mohammad had some answers.    
The Sufi Talks Back: An Exhibition on Reading the Archives explores aspects of modern Southeast Asian art and museological discourse through the life and works of late Singapore artist Mohammad din Mohammed (1955-2007). Mohammad was born in Malacca and received his art training at the Nanyang Academy of Fine Arts, where he graduated from in 1976. An avowed Sufi, Mohammad's paintings and sculptures were also heavily influenced by his life long practice as a Silat Guru and traditional healer, all colored by his constant travel across Southeast Asia. Mohammad’s passion for Sufism and conscious recognition for moderation in all aspects of life, inspired him to paint Islamic calligraphy with his bare hands, a skill he had begun to experiment with and developed over two decades. Replicating Quranic verses in abstract forms, Mohammad adapted his calligraphy to speak of the mercifulness of Allah in general, but also sought to represent a certain personalised talismanic energy in each individual work, transmitted via the gaze.    
Over the span of a professional artistic career that lasted four decades, he and his wife, artist Hamidah Jalil, also collected different Southeast Asian artifacts ranging from Malay Kris’ to rare coins and textiles. The walls and cabinets of Mohammad’s home in Singapore attest to the magnanimity and depth of the collection. Many of the curios were used in his sculptures, which vividly celebrate the rich and hybrid cultural heritage of Southeast Asia. The Singa Kuda for instance relies on an assemblage of various objects collected from different parts of the region. It represents a syncretic pastiche of mystical realities that are channeled through the configuration of animal bones, wood, metal and a old computer stand; they discerningly expresses the artists’ commitment in extending the life of things which seem to have lost their material worth—at least in the modern pecuniary sense.  
Based on extensive ethnographic work conducted at the artist's homes in Singapore and Malacca, the exhibition unravels the intricate relationships between the powerful position modern museums occupy in terms of 'archiving cultures', be they western or non-western ones and the politics of Mohammad's private collection which seemingly lies beyond the decorum of a public art museum. The Sufi Talks Back is then a metaphoric and provocative appeal to acknowledge our surroundings and not assume fixity in meaning for the most frivolous of objects that we choose to shove aside on an everyday basis.


Written by Shabbir Hussain Mustafa. Assistant Curator, NUS Museum.

Of Photography II
By Chris Yap & Usha Nathan
An ode to analogue!

Long before the advent of digital cameras and the ‘easy to use’ cameras embedded in handphones, my first encounter with photographs was during my childhood days when I uncovered old black and white prints of my parents in their youth! The old fraying photographs were preserved in well-worn albums that I have since leafed through on many a slow day. These days, looking at reprints and photography books on old masters, particularly Alfred Stieglitz whom I admire personally, I recall the nostalgia of the family albums.  Is the admiration for film-photography born of a romantic idealism for an imagined reality akin to the nostalgia for olden days? Does this somewhat outmoded ‘technology’ of analogue photography persist because it is a memory in itself, a memory of a bygone era and of the things it represents?  

Unlike most other mediums in art, photography has the unique characteristic of being part scientific and, hence, it hurtles along with technology. And much like digitally created sound in CDs and modern MP3s replacing vinyl records and gramophones, or digital watches replacing mechanical ones, photography has also moved from analogue to digital. The new technology has, of course, pioneered new possibilities in photography. Now it is possible to create beyond what the eye can see. Digitisation, as they call it, has also lead to a greater ease of learning, with the advantage of instant feedback and the nearly insignificant running costs. All of these have led to the huge growth of photography among the masses. (One could argue that it has not increased the quality, or the depth of an audience for photography, but we will not be dwelling into that for now.) Nevertheless, something about the process of analogue technology has rendered it ageless and, as of today, it is still alive and breathing.

Chris explains that there has been something of a resurgence of film-based photography in recent times, especially in the art market. This is a testament to the fact that analogue and digital photography are primarily different as processes and as mediums that are suited for different kinds of photographs. In the arena of niche photography, such as large and ultra-large formats, film is still very much a stable medium, as digital backs of that custom size would probably cost the same as a car and would certainly not feel the same as the film print! Even though there is a huge dynamic range seen in digital prints these days, it is through film that one can see a smoother transition from black to white. In digital, unless the exposure is spot on and one uses a really good quality digital back, it is hard not to get banding (a ‘stepped’ effect on a tonal gradient) once the adjustments goes beyond the threshold of what a pixel can hold. Whereas for light (in film printing), tonality is based on the amount of light. Therefore the tonality of film prints could be said to be a lot easier on the eye.

Recently, at the Month of Photography, Tokyo, Chris managed to find cibachrome prints- an image printed directly from a slide that has enduring, vibrant colours and a glossy, metallic finish. These require expensive chemicals, and hence cost more than digital prints. According to Chris, the colour saturation and finish of cibachromes are still hard to replicate in a digital print; the closest, for now, is a highly glossy finish. Then, there are the daguerreotypes, one of the first images produced, which are metallic in nature, and which have both the positive and negative image on the same surface (depending on how one views the piece you can see both!). Not since then has there been a technology that can recreate that. Perhaps from these instances, one can imagine why analogue photography has been able to withstand the test of time.

To understand what differentiates analogue and digital photography, one might have to look at fundamental differences in the way in which the image is created. For film, or analogue, photography the image is created by exposing a film coated with an emulsion layer that contains silver halide crystals. The sizes of these crystals determine the contrast and “resolution” of the negative and, hence, the resulting image. Digital images, on the other hand, are made of pixels or tiny squares. Light is recorded electrically and converted into digital data. This data is then read by a software which tells the colour of each ‘pixel’. Hence, the grain in film is very different from the pixel which is its closest counterpart in digital photography. While processing an image in the dark room involves chemical changes with light, Photoshop and other digital processing software operate on the pixels. These differences translate into a different ‘feel’ of the image created by either processes. While a high resolution digital image may look very sharp, the image created using film has a different tactile quality. To Chris, the differences translate into choosing different modes for different projects, based on his vision for it. For instance, for his Preservation House project that required a more “organic” feel film was the obvious choice. It is important, then, to keep in mind the fundamental distinctions of digital and film so as not to lose out on the potential that is inherent and unique to the analogue medium.

Having said that, the differences between analogue and digital photography are not just visible in the end product or the image, but are also built into the process of creation itself. To quote a friend/ fellow photographer, “printing in a darkroom is the second chance at exposing the same image.” One can taste the sweat, smell the chemicals, feel the print, see the result appear slowly, hear the whirling of the fan—all of this in almost complete darkness. The inherent focus and slowness of the process adds to the thought process that allows the creation of that one print. That all the five senses are tickled also adds to the soul of the piece. Overall, it's an experience that cannot be replicated in digital.

While working with analogue Chris feels that there is a possibility of adding thought and soul to the image even after it has been captured. Whereas for digital, the reverse would seem to be true as, oftentimes, photographers would choose to frame the image after it’s been captured on the LCD screen. When it’s downloaded onto the computer, the speed at which changes can happen, focuses the photographer to work at rectifying the immediate flaws and pushing it toward being a ‘perfect’ (albeit ‘artificially perfect’) image; this speed takes away a more ‘conceptual’ thought process a lot of the time. In film, something of the magic in developing film is also in its unpredictability and the possibilities of discovery as one goes along. On the other hand, with print, a photographic master printmaker can make prints that are very consistent; however, this is not our point here. We must consider the fact that a single exposure can produce a different image through the same hands that print it. Hence each print made from the same negative can truly be unique.

And, so, we believe that fine art photography would benefit from retaining the legacy of film or analogue photography. The old images are indeed more than romantic memories! But Chris ponders, “What would happen to an old digital print say 200 years from now, if paper was no longer a commodity?” We do not know the answer to that one but we sure hope it does not get lost in translation as software and technology changes!


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 collaborative exhibition within the Singapore Biennale 2006 and recently at the Month of Photography, Tokyo, Japan. He also conducts talks around Asia Pacific, teaches photography at several educational and corporate institutions, and is also the adjunct lecturer at Nanyang Technological University, School of Art, Design and Media.

Glimpse of Laos
A Contemporary Laotian Art Exhibition

A landlocked country, Laos is bordered by Burma, China, Vietnam, Cambodia and Thailand. This fact itself represents a potential hybrid of cultures that can contribute to rich fine arts traditions and practices.
However, after gaining independence from the French colonisers in 1949, Laos was engaged in civil wars between warring factions, and became a default participant in the Vietnam War, due to the eastern areas being used as a staging ground by the North Vietnamese Army in their campaign against the South. All the turbulence ravaged the beautiful and still-rugged landscapes that filled the country.
Fast forward to the late 1980s: after the communist Laotian government relaxed its control over the nation and eased economic restrictions, Laos began to open up to private enterprise and international investments. This kick-started Laos' tourism industry and thus, perhaps, offered the first few glimpses of the rich Laotian cultural traditions to the outside world.
The Glimpse of Laos – A Contemporary Laotian Art Exhibition, held from 9 – 12 June at the Arts House can perhaps be looked at as the first manifestation of these efforts in Singapore. With Chinese art reaching the point of saturation and Indonesian art taking over the momentum in the Southeast Asian art market, Laotian art has always seemed to be off the radar of local art enthusiasts.
This is about to change, hopefully, thanks to the efforts of Michael Chan, Managing Director of the local M Gallery, a gallery specialising in  contemporary Laotian paintings.
First introduced to Laotian art during a trip to the country around one and a half years ago, Micheal was immediately intrigued by the unique qualities that set Laotian painters apart from their ASEAN neighbours. Since then, he has opened two galleries, one in Singapore and one in the republic's capital Vientiane, situated in the Mekong Valley.
Laotian art seems to follow a similar trajectory to Vietnamese art due to their close political and economic relations. But, Laos’ distinct cultural practices have contributed to a new language that can be best described as 'Laotian'.
Temporarily disrupted during the warring years, senior artists as well as the younger ones have started producing more works, and refining their techniques, due to increasing exchanges with the international art community. This was apparent in the artworks on display during the Glimpse of Laos exhibition.
Officially opened by His Excellency Choummaly Sayasone, President of the Lao People's Democratic Republic, who was on an official visit to Singapore at the time, the exhibition was a resounding success, with some works being snapped up by local and international collectors.
The interest and enthusiasm generated by the visitors to the exhibition warranted a follow-up, and they will be happy to hear that the next exhibition, titled Glimpse of Laos II – Works by 3 Promising Young Laotian Artists, will be held from 20 – 23 September, at the same venue in the Arts House.

For more info on M Gallery and the upcoming exhibition in September, do contact Michael Chan at Tel: +65 6841 4646, Fax: +65 6873 7093 or Email: art@mgallery.com.sg. M Gallery is located at 61 Shun Li Industrial Park #06-21 Kaki Bukit Ave 1 Singapore 417943.

Written by Syed Muhd Hafiz

Design Scene Singapore
Taking stock: The city in a garden, the garden as a gallery

When I was asked to write a monthly column for the art guide last December I needed to decide on a title for the column. Off the top of my head I came up with ‘Design Scene Singapore’ because at the time, with the Design Festival vibe still buzzing, it seemed that there was a vibrant scene of sorts to write about. Six months down the line, however, with half a dozen articles on the subject behind me, I’m beginning to wonder how appropriate the title is.
At the beginning of the April column (www.sagg.com.sg/p_apr08.php) I pondered on what constituted a scene. Using the art world as a model I concluded that design would benefit from a similar setup, i.e. an ongoing round of events and exhibitions where one could connect with fellow designers to socialise, discuss ideas etc. Unfortunately, it seems that, in Singapore at least, such things are few and far between, which has left me in the difficult position each month of trying to figure out what to focus on.
One of the problems with design generally is that on the whole it doesn't take kindly to holding itself up for scrutiny in the same way that art does. Driven largely by commercial interests, the results of the design process are usually made manifest in final products - be it a building, an interior, an object, etc. As a result, design seems to just simply appear and blend almost immediately into the surroundings, rendering itself almost invisible at the same time. In Singapore, particularly, where things are transformed and consumed at a breathtaking speed, this represents a problem.
One way to tackle this, in order to critique and reflect on design, might be to isolate and frame particular aspects of the designed environment. This approach again uses the art scene as a model but, instead of relying on a physical space to do the work, the process could be started, initially at least, through writing. Thus, each week we could use this space to look at different aspects of Singaporean designed environment, be it the shopping malls, condominiums, public housing, or the integrated resorts.
One of the fascinating things about Singapore to me---having lived here for four years---is that it seems to represent the ultimate in a designed environment, where every detail is considered and controlled to the nth degree. Indeed, if the definition of Singapore as a ‘city in a garden’, rather than merely a ‘garden city’, is to be taken at face value then we are living in a designed environment within a designed environment. A convoluted idea if ever there was one for anyone trying to get a hold of what this place is all about at its heart. (See the Ministry of National Development-MND handbook on this at www.mnd.gov.sg/Handbook).
Another very interesting insight along similar lines came in the form of Singapore 1:1 Island, an exhibition held at the URA building, which I reviewed in the May issue. As I wrote in that article, 1:1 is apparently intended to refer to the idea of Singapore as a “1:1 scale, life-sized gallery of architecture and urban design”. I was intrigued and puzzled by this concept at the time, and the idea has stuck with me ever since. What are the implications of this? How are the people regarded to occupy this space? Are we just seen as visitors rather than inhabitants? Is the role for the majority of us to simply stand back and gawp at the monuments to commerce and capitalism shooting up all around? Personally, I am a little disturbed by the idea. If we are seen in the eyes of developers and planners as mere two-dimensional models, to be placed accordingly in the life-sized gallery, then one has to wonder at the real motives of the grand design.
This month’s column, then, sees me, and this column, at a crossroads. Do we continue in the same direction, trying to map the design scene and the people within it, or do we, instead, draw back to take a look at the bigger picture to see the way that the Singapore designed landscape is shaping up as a whole and then zero in on aspects of it for each column? My inclination is to adopt the latter strategy, with the focus laid very much on architecture and urban design---with some commercial design thrown in, since it is the developments in these areas which seem to largely reflect what Singapore is about.

All photos are courtesy of the writer.

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.

Art Around
Being and Becoming

200620072008. Victor Tan. 2008. 87 x 90 x 230cm. Stainless Steel Wire. Collection of artist

The ‘Other’ Spaces (6)

Inside instinc

Artist-run spaces have always been an intriguing phenomenon. While the typical galleries and museums can boast of showcasing the latest blockbuster exhibits, it is the smaller-scale artist-run spaces that sometimes have the ability to pique the visitors’ interests.
Perhaps this is due to the assumption that with artists running their own spaces/ exhibitions, visitors are able to connect directly with the artists’ concept and ideas. Compared to museums and galleries, where the whole mechanism of curating, marketing, publicity and logistics might affect the eventual showcase, artist-run spaces might be able to offer more in their raw, unpretentious approach.
instinc is one such space offering this unique approach to visiting exhibitions and engaging with fine art in general. Founded by local artist Yeo Shih Yun in November 2004, instinc aims to foster friendships and collaborations with other artists, as well as with other organisations.
Shih Yun has collaborated with artists from the UK, USA, Canada and Singapore. She has also worked with products such as Guinness, moleskine, Smirnoff & Her World Singapore. She works with paintings, drawings, prints and books, and has also experimented with print techniques like lithography, screen-printing and painting directly on 16mm film.
instinc primarily functions as an artist studio and gallery space for exhibitions. Beginning as a small gallery space in Chinatown, and then in Emerald Hill, it is now located amidst the trendy nightspots along Mohamed Sultan Road.
Since its inception, instinc has had three resident artists; it was the current resident artist Chan Mei Hsien’s work that I came across which led to this article. Settling down for a quiet read in a cosy restaurant, I came across Chan Mei Hsien’s artworks adorning the walls of Badoque. Her works, part of her ongoing ‘Man In Crisis’ series has been explored since her student days at the Nanyang Academy of Fine Arts (NAFA).
‘Man In Crisis’ illustrates Mei Hsien’s fascination with lines – how they can transform in a drawing, especially in portraiture. Although the ‘Man’ in the title implies mankind in general (particularly the white collar group), her subjects have recently morphed into political figures. The diners at Badoque can, thus, have fun testing their general knowledge by trying to identify the subjects in the artworks.
While chatting with her, more of instinc’s direction was revealed. Past activities included Open Studio sessions, where artworks by the resident artists were put up for sale and visitors mingled and chatted with the artists to find out more about their ideas in a casual setting. Other similar sessions, like artnight and flea markets, have also been held.
For now, though, instinc is taking a break from organising exhibitions, as both Shih Yun and Mei Hsien are busy with their other endeavours. The former is participating in her first overseas residency in Brussels while the latter is participating in a group exhibition, titled ‘Missexpectations’. Missexpectations’ is on at the Esplanade Tunnel from July 5 to August 3.
However, the studios at instinc are still open (by appointment only), and for those who wish to know about Mei Hsien’s distinctive figurative line drawings or Shih Yun’s strong energetic use of black ink, do make your way down to 27 Mohamed Sultan Road.


For more information about instinc, contact Shih Yun at +65 9692 3537 or email shihyun@instinc.com. Alternatively, you may contact Mei Hsien at +65 9649 0260 or email mh@manincrisis.com. instinc is located on the third floor at 27 Mohamed Sultan Road.


Written by Syed Muhd Hafiz
Pictures are courtesy of the studio.

Henri Matisse, The Master
Works from 1917 – 1952

Nu renversé au brasero, Lithography

Often heralded as one of the two leading artists of the 20th century—the other being Pablo Picasso—Matisse’s role in ‘re-drawing’ the compositional foundation of 20th century Modern art has been well-documented in art history journals and is a staple topic in art schools.
Best known as the ‘Master of Colour’, Matisse’s bold and fluid celebration of colours reached its peak in 1917 when he began to spend time on the French Riviera at Nice and Venice.
Earlier on, he had been regarded as the leader of the Fauvist (French for the Wild Beasts) movement, a short-lived and loose grouping of early 20th century Modern artists whose works emphasised painterly qualities and strong colours over the representational values retained by Impressionism, the prevailing trend during that period.
However, there was nothing violent or primal about this gentlemanly intellectual and his Fauvist years were superseded by an experimental period, as he abandoned three-dimensional effects in favour of dramatically simplified areas of pure colour, flat shape, and strong pattern.
This move is further illustrated here, in the exhibition at the Singapore Tyler Print Institute (STPI) in Singapore. Presented by STPI and Wing Tai and supported by the French Embassy, this is the first ever solo exhibition of the French modern master in Singapore. This exhibition comprises 52 prints, three drawings, and one painting dated 1917. This rare collection, valued at €2.5 million (est. S$5 million), is on loan from the estate of Henri Matisse.
Taking centre-stage are the lithograph prints by Matisse that showcase his passages to the completed works, while the drawings and paintings act as supplement to this installation.
Used to observing the bold-coloured and decorative paintings of his, the rows of lithograph prints offer an almost-Zen-like experience in re-discovering Matisse. Stripped off the colours, we begin to see his fluid, brilliant and original draughtsmanship.
Matisse once said that he wanted his art to have the effect of a good armchair on a tired businessman. Dropping in at STPI on a quiet afternoon, visitors will surely marvel at the man who was often lauded by a plethora of accolades but, at the end of the day, was essentially an artist with immense control, and very much a man of common sense.


Henri Matisse, The Master: Works from 1917 – 1952 is on from May 9 till August 16. STPI is located at 41 Robertson Quay Singapore 238236. Nearest MRT Station is Clarke Quay. More information can be obtained from www.stpi.com.sg or Tel: (65) 6336 3663, Fax: (65) 6336 3553 and Email: stpi@stpi.com.sg.

Written by Syed Muhd Hafiz
Pictures are courtesy of STPI.

The Artists Village and ‘Alterity’

Installing Memory, 1992. Jailani bin Kuning. Mixed Media. Singapore Art Museum Collection

The rooting of the ‘alternative’ arts in Singapore in the late 1980s is closely linked to the emergence of the Artists Village. This local collective came into being in 1988 by Tang Da Wu with a number of young artists, such as Amanda Heng, Zai Kunning, Wong Shih Yaw, Lee Wen, Lim Poh Teck, Tang Mun Kit, Baet Yeok Kwan and Vincent Leow. The group settled down in a disused chicken farm at 61-B Lorong Gambas in Ulu Sembawang, which became their base, stating their ideology in their manifesto as- “dedicated to the promotion and encouragement of experimental and alternative arts in Singapore”. It was to endeavour to establish an open space for artists to mature at their own pace, and to provide a conducive environment which would allow them to experiment, experience and exchange ideas. (From “The Artists Village” by Joanna). In these declarations one can see the strong desire to challenge existing modes of artistic practice while promoting the ‘alternative’ arts.
Renowned art critic T. K. Sabapathy noted how they sought to transcend fixed categories by “employing multimedia, multidisciplinary and multicultural approaches” that delivered its messages in a critical, direct and intense manner. For example, one of Da Wu’s performances, titled The Tiger’s Whip, which was performed in Chinatown, challenged the Chinese traditional custom of consuming the penis of tigers as a form of aphrodisiac on one hand, while highlighting ecological issues in the local context on the other.  
Engaging in experimental art was a central tenet in its ideology, with one of the artists, Zai Kunning explicitly stating that art should “always test a theory or a way of thinking”, in an exhibition pamphlet from 1992. The Artists Village engaged in the alternative arts by employing “new” mediums such as installation and performance art, thus reassessing conventions in art making in the late 1980s that represented a shift away from the dominance of abstraction and other more traditional forms, mediums and modes of artistic expression. Faizal Fadil’s Study of Three Thermos Flasks and Zai Kunning’s Installing Memory are two examples of installation art that not only generated controversy but also signalled the willingness of artists to engage with the public in a two-way debate, unheard of at that time. With experimentation and the cross-fertilization of ideas within a colony of artists, the Artists Village was a watershed in the art history of Singapore as it represented a potent force that initiated a shift, which resulted in the rooting of the ‘alternative arts’ in Singapore.


Written by Seng Yu Jin, Assistant curator at Singapore Art Museum

Reel Life Starts With a Cause

“Abstinence” by Seelan Palay. Previously shown at Reel Revolution.

Have you ever had the burning desire to have a cool alter ego – the dentist who wants to be a rock star, the architect who dreams of being a painter, and the ad guy who can’t wait to be a stage diva, or the poly student who yearns to be the next Royston Tan or Tan Pin Pin? The Substation Moving Images Reel Revolution programme can show the poly student (and anyone under the age of 35, for that matter) just how their pipe dream can become a reality.

Reel Revolution, or Reel Rev as it’s affectionately known, was launched in 2006 as a film mentorship programme and competition by Kristin Saw, The Substation Moving Images programme manager from 2005 to 2008. Her main objective was “to create a programme that benefited as many people as possible, from the young participants, to the filmmaker mentors and the audience.” When it was launched Kristin was not aware of any other film programmes specifically addressing social issues, but now similar programmes have followed Reel Rev’s footsteps, one being the 8 Minutes Youth Film Competition. Traditionally, filmmaking competitions have emphasised creativity within a short timeframe, but with Reel Rev, the film/video medium is being utilised for a more meaningful purpose, and is encouraging young people to get in on the act. “By only keeping to a short four-minute format, the young filmmakers are trained to be sharp and concise in their arguments, to be effective communicators,” adds Kristin. And all the while they are exploring issues that are relevant and compelling.
Reel Revolution 2008 is run by the current Moving Images programme manager, Low Beng Kheng, who says, “it continues to be an accessible platform for youths aged 15 to 35 years to get into filmmaking, with invaluable support from mentors who give guidance, encouragement and impart precious filmmaking experience.” Mentors for this year are Jasmine Ng, Jeremy Sing, Kelvin Sng, Eng Yee Peng, Ric Aw, Kenny Tan and Eric Lim, and the theme is ’Our Environment’, which can be interpreted in many ways.
To get participants really thinking, there were two ‘Learning Talks’ in July which introduced changemakers from society to the budding filmmakers. The changemakers ranged from blogger mr. brown talking about the joys of cycling in Singapore to NMP Siew Kum Hong speaking about how the youth can be more empowered by getting involved in civic activism.
But what about previous participants, and their grand plans to break onto the big screen? Independent artist Seelan Palay was a member of the winning team for Reel Revolution 2007. He has gone on to make more films that are provocative, that address other pressing social issues. Naresh Subhash was also a participant the same year and has helped out in local film productions. He is now preparing to go to film school. Cheng Ding An, who won at Reel Revolution 2006, is an independent filmmaker and is now producing his first feature film. “Supporting emerging filmmakers is a core part of The Substation Moving Images programme and when we can encourage them to really get into the meat of a social issue and at the same time move closer to their filmmaking aspirations, it significantly increases the impact that we make to filmmaking and the arts,” sums up Beng Kheng.

All entries for Reel Revolution 2008 will be screened and winners will be announced on 30 August at the Reel Revolution Powwow, Singapore Art Museum, 7:30 – 10:30pm. For more information please call Beng Kheng at The Substation, on 6337 7535.

Chinese Desires
Forays in contemporary Chinese ink

Fading Interest. Li Jin. Ink & Colour on Paper 2007, 69 x 139 cm

Chinese ink occupies a distinctive place in the history of Chinese art, with a tradition that dates back a few thousand years. The art form is said to have matured in the 10th Century A.D. under the Song Dynasty, and has since evolved manifold. With its emphasis on subjective expression and artistic conception, the form has become easily accessible for modern themes, its versatility being signified by its continuing relevance and import even in the present day and age.
Celebrating the diversity in contemporary Chinese ink, the newly opened Luxe Art Museum will present a select collection of works by three unique artists, Li Jin, Wu Yi and Nan Qi, this January. While Li Jin re-creates the everyday lived experience with a healthy dose of wry humour, Wu Yi’s works bring out a romantic ideal. The paintings by Nan Qi, on the other hand, critically engage with urban realities.
Li Jin’s works are like visual anecdotes. The people he paints are seen in everyday settings---bathing, idling, or just sitting together for a meal, and Li Jin depicts them with a directness that makes no pretence of beauty. Men and women are portrayed in their gluttonous, sometimes grotesque selves. One could interpret it as a commentary on the emerging ‘newly rich’ class and the growing economic wealth that has greatly influenced the contemporary culture in China. Interestingly, some of the depictions appear auto-biographical, with the artist and his dog portrayed in many of his paintings.
Li Jin’s compositions embrace contemporary themes but retain the simple, minimal strokes of the Chinese brush on paper. They are used to provide delicate details - the artist’s keen and delightful observations of human behaviour. The backdrops, on the other hand, are usually left black and white, accentuating the expressiveness of the lines.
The paintings of Wu Yi embrace an aesthetic similar to that of Li Jin’s, both in the brush strokes and the plain backgrounds. But Wu Yi’s work has a certain uncomplicated simplicity. His works have no ornamental lines; each mark is deliberate and straight-forward. His particular artistic style perhaps stems from his philosophy and way of life. Wu Yi and his wife live in a small town, Mapo, in the outskirts of Beijing, which is used to a much slower, and a more rhythmic pace of life. The scenes he depicts portray playful activities, and acts inspired by life in the rural town. The paintings convey these as a manner of evoking the desire for a peaceful life and its simple pleasures.
In Nan Qi’s paintings, the reality is not idealised but is critiqued instead. This time, the setting is urban, much like the artist’s familiar locale, Hong Kong. The technique he employs is crucial to understanding his works. Though one of the most significant aspects of Chinese ink is the immediacy, wherein the object is not painted as observed but is interpreted and its qualities conveyed in free, fluid strokes, in Nan Qi’s work, the forms are composed of dots, with halos around them, as the ink diffuses on paper. The dots form grids that create a pixelated image, so that the experience of seeing the painting is layered as you approach it from a distance. The formal implication of this is a suggestion of fragmentation of the image and that of the viewer’s encounter of it.
In the current works, Nan Qi paints only mannequins seen in shop windows. Their stiff poses and expressionless faces become a reflection of the urban conscious. Ironic as it is, the mannequins are instances of the ‘perfect’ human, with model figures and perfectly fitted, expensive clothing, icons for status and well-being in the society. Nan Qi paints each one of them meticulously, as though underlining their vulgar importance in the modern world.  
The works of all three artists are distinctive, yet somehow tied up with sociological themes that pertain to the current situation in China. And so, the exhibition of these works promises to be rewarding to engage with, the artistic accomplishment of the three artists notwithstanding.


Written by Usha M. Nathan 

Floral flair and grey splendours

This exhibition features works by Chinese artists, Zhai Yong and Wang Wen Gang at the Cape of Good Hope Art Gallery.
Professor Zhang Yong in his floral series captures the charm and grace of flowers and grass with a remarkable finesse. Zhang’s work has a melancholy sentiment that pervades his paintings. His "Miao Maiden" series is an ode to the beauty and splendor of the maidens’ festival costumes and ornaments. His portraits too produce strong, dynamic clusters of beauty, all in lively colour.
Wang Wen Gang's latest works "On the Dining Table Series" have won a lot of praises, and were introduced in a CCTV programme "Best Oil Paintings". The paintings in grey tone have managed to fuse the concrete with the abstract and offer the viewer a combination of harmony, purity and subtlety.

Winners and more
Singapore International Photography Festival

Anatomical Fantasies of Meat Part 1, 01. Joel Yuen. 2008. This work by the photographer is part of the series that has been awarded the UOB Painting of the Year 2008.

Just as the curtains fall for the Month of Photography Asia, news abounds about another photography extravaganza - The Singapore International Photography Festival. This, however, would be fairly more ambitious in size and scale. The key event for the festival will be an exhibition featuring the winning entries from the ‘Open Call’. The competition has garnered a hearty response with the number of entries totaling a whopping 6,584, of which a little less than a third were received from Singaporean photographers. Out of these, 800 have been selected to be showcased in six different locations around the island, in what is touted to be the largest-ever showcase of fine art photography ever held in Singapore.
At the time of writing, seven winning photographers from Singapore have been announced:  Joel Yuen, Sean Lee, Muhd Hardi Bin Hashim, Ho Hui May, Tan Ching Yee, Frank Pinckers and Han Tan. Joel Yuen has very recently been awarded the UOB Painting of the Year award for his stunning pieces of archival inkjet prints. Sean Lee lately showcased his work, staging the life of transsexuals or the ‘lady boy’, as part of the ‘Month of Photography’ that you may have had a chance to catch. Hui May has previously created an inspired series of works under the title ‘Domestic Dystopia’.  Frank Pinckers and Han Tan are commercial photographers who have also created engaging works in fine art photography. Overall, the list is a curious mix of a wide range of interests and experiences in various genres of photography.
The festival itself will be much more than the exhibition itself. The full menu of events boasts of a series of lectures, workshops, portfolio reviews and satellite events that will accompany the key exhibition. Some the photographers who will be in town as part of the festival are Alain Julien from France, who will be conducting a curatorial forum as well as talks and workshops, Pablo Bartholomew from India who will be conducting a workshop on documentary photography, as well as Mark Curran, Fred and Wendy Baldwin, Alex Moh, Dinh Q.Le, and Kimmo Lehtonen, to name a few.


More information on this upcoming festival is online, at http://www.sipf.com.sg

Deterioration Factors of Artworks

left: Oil on canvas, Before Conservation. Painting damaged with multiple factors, including fungus, right: Same painting after conservation treatment

Every artwork has its own life span depending on the materials, the techniques used and the surrounding environment in which it is kept. However, certain materials and methods involving artworks can increase the rate of the ageing process. If we know what these factors are, and the ways in which to tackle them, we can increase the longevity of an artwork and make it available for many generations to come.
First of all, the manufacturing method and the materials used in the artwork, such as the ink, paint and the paper components, play a big role in its long-term stability. Due to inherently acidic materials, poor techniques and wrong methods used, the artworks can develop a number of problems, which pose a threat to their stability in the long run. For instance, you can endanger the life of an artwork by using acidic iron gall ink, verdigris green pigment, wet on wet painting techniques in oil painting, and by applying thick, uneven coats of natural varnish.
But besides the internal factors that are already a given, there are others that can influence the quality of the works. Artworks when kept in contact with acidic framing materials, such as plywood backing board, and stored in a highly polluted environment, and/or in the presence of fungal and mould growth could cause the pH level of a paper to quickly increase. Paper becomes yellow because of this, additionally, the presence of moisture stains the paper, eventually leading to brittleness and powdering of the paper. Canvas fibres become weak and brittle as a result of acidity.   
One of the key factors to preserving artworks is maintaining a steady temperature and relative humidity. This is crucial because drastic changes in temperature and humidity can cause deterioration of the sensitive paper materials in a very short time. High humidity can lead to the development of foxing (small brown disfiguring spots on paper) or mould growth. And high temperature can cause brittleness in paper. Heat dries out the material of the painting, speeding up the process of natural aging. Drastic changes in the temperature can also cause a strain on paper or canvas as they expand and contract, and eventually cause physical damage.
Besides these, most paper and pigments are susceptible to damage from ultraviolet (UV) and visible rays. UV radiation, which is emitted by the sun and fluorescent bulbs, is particularly damaging to paper items, and causes the pigments to fade. The effect of UV rays on canvas is less intense as compared to their effect on paper. However, it does weaken the canvas fibre and causes colours to fade in a painting.
Dust can also be very harmful to your paintings and artworks. It contains atmospheric pollutants like sulphuric acid and when it accumulates on paper or canvas, it adds to the acidity. Acids break the cellulose bond of paper and leave it weakened, making it more susceptible to moisture. The weakened paper supports fungal growth in the presence of excess moisture and still air. In old canvas paintings, dust accumulation at the lower part can be so heavy that the canvas starts pulling away from the stretcher at the upper edges. This can also obscure the visibility of a picture!
Intervening to repair a painting without the help of a professional, could get you into more trouble. Bad intervention on a damaged or deteriorated artwork by an unprofessional hand can be disastrous. Since every artwork is different in nature because of the raw materials used, the artist’s materials and techniques, and the extent of exposure to environmental conditions, there is no common remedy for all deteriorated artwork. A good conservator would have to come in to study the history and examine the materials and techniques of an artwork and then embark on a course of treatment. For example, the effects of mould growth on Chinese rice paper and on European paper can be very different.
Needless to say, it is very important to make sure that the artworks are treated by a professional conservator, one who knows the materials, techniques, skills and the ethics of conservation.


Find out more about conservation at www.benakaartconservation.com, or contact us at Benaka@benakaartconservation.com.
Benaka Art Conservation Private Ltd is located at 64, Taman Warna, Singapore 276386. Phone: 61002707.