Art KL-itique

“I've been inspired by pixel art and 80s B-grade sci-fi movies during the 80s and during college times in the 80s, playing my housemates computer games like the Lucas Art's 'Full Throttle', 'Day of Tentacle', 'Sam&Max hit the road', 'Street Fighter2', 'Raiden', '1942', 'Prince of Persia' etc, etc, and some other classics pixel games totally inspired me further”, remarks Shika Corona/ Shieko Reto in a blog posting one month ago. The artist has since gone on a roll to post her pixel GIF creations, starting with signature motifs such as the unicorn and the polar bear, to film noir scenes, to superb “DUSH!” and “TEBABO!” animated sequences.

Miss

Shika’s use of pixel GIFs is a wonderful extension to her art repertoire, which complements a vivid and incisive style; it is also an especially relevant medium to comment on current issues. A religious officer bursts into a transgender beauty pageant, only to be awarded ‘best dressed’. An iconic image of the Merdeka declaration, sees tears streaming down one Prime Minister’s face. Light reflects off the ‘Puncak Purnama’ sculptures, to give a federal minister an eyesore. Pokemon Go is hilariously translated into Malay, with a poke at religious authorities to boot. Irreverent colloquialisms like the Malaysian favourite 'otw' (on the way) also get an animated update, the medium particularly great for representing speed.

skrgselamanya/noweternity

Scenes with rainfall are particularly poignant, be it to illustrate a calm lookout point, or a dark stormy night. Personal favourites so far are those with a futuristic and/ or surreal perspective, such as the Kuala Lumpur towers submerged in a desert (‘arabisasi…’), and ‘Post-apoKLip-Jaya 2’. The latter features a popular clown face, one silhouette of a building used for political conventions, exploding zombie heads, flashing lightning overhead, the eye of Sauron, culminating with a homage to cult classic Escape from L.A. All in seven seconds. Shieko’s pixel GIFs are nostalgic and recalls a time when personal computer games garnered mainstream appeal with urban kids. The aesthetic may be innocent, but her topics are always relevant. TEBABO!

Post-apoKLip-Jaya 2

After the customary festive lull, a profusion of art exhibitions are staged in Klang Valley within the month. The first show I saw was deserted on opening night. Beautiful watercolours by a Shanghai artist, including a superb rendition of a red flower which, looked more like a bombing run photographed from an overhead drone. Painting is supposedly the dominant mode in Malaysian visual art, yet there are none who paint like this. Am I overestimating Malaysian painters? Perhaps, as I glance through upcoming listings. There are fewer painters exhibiting than previously assumed. Gallery chatter include the diminishing sales to local collectors this year, unethical practices of gallerists and curators, and the curious endeavor of selling artworks to fund for a specific cause. I return a few weeks later to watch video documentation of migrant labourers wielding bicycle wheels dipped in paint. The many wheels moving onscreen remain a mesmerising visual…

Hings Lim – Pusat Bandar Utara Selayang, 160612 (14 Painters : 3 Wheels) (2016)

…Is organising practical workshops a better way to raise funds (for an arts festival)? Perhaps, as I drop bank notes into the donation box. Then again, this workshop space was covered in paintings for sale a couple weeks later, to support the ambitions of one arts manager. In the mall upstairs, galleries show local prints, Japanese photographs, and young artists’ take on optical art and conceptual art. Few kilometres away, at an impressive collection of sculpture installations by one notable ceramic artist, sales were reportedly underwhelming. One of the artist’s older work is displayed in the city centre; Along with another group show in a nearby tower, both galleries are guilty for trivialising its subject matter into one-dimensional icons. Back at Dutamas, in front of large paintings by modern Malaysian artists, art enthusiasts gather to enjoy a poem recital; a few days later, they are back discussing a memorandum related to the careless treatment of public art…

Kamal Sazali - Pedas-pedas Bunga (2016)

…I glance out the window, as my ride-share driver zooms past a sculpture of oversized hibiscus plants, then drops me off at the headquarters of a banking institution. After enduring the inter-floor travels to complete a transaction, I step into an old gallery space covered in rice husks. A musty yet fragrant smell hangs in the air. Despite the pleasant sensory experience, this follow-on exhibition from one gathering of Southeast Asian artists was a disappointment. Quotes, sketches, and contact prints, emphasize the agency of the artist and the curator, but lack the shared tensions shared during last year’s conversations. I was expecting full-length video playbacks of these sessions, but only a video montage was exhibited. At another institution, one gets to enjoy artworks from the bank’s collection in a serene environment. The Merdeka theme is irrelevant, more so during a time when a new “bumiputera”-based political party is formed. I take notice of the more sinister-looking works, among many paintings…

Fung Yow Chork – Kong Siew Temple, KL (1981)

…Notwithstanding the demolishment of an unsightly and abandoned sculpture, Kuala Lumpur residents still got to participate in two arts festival in the same weekend. Which one is public, and which one is private? Braving the haze to attend a talk about alternative art spaces, I was rewarded with a wonderful display of art objects on sale at affordable prices. Not to mention the handmade linocut prints that got hand-delivered to myself a few days prior. Less affordable are chipped plaster sculptures and coarse wooden furniture exhibited in a Petaling Jaya bungalow, which gallerist is consulting another city-wide arts festival taking place in September, Warhol prints included. Is the perceived lack of diversity in Malaysian art a false statement? Am I being haunted by the ghost (of painting)? Are we better off selling those publicly-funded Monet paintings, instead of bringing it back? What if DBKL grew and maintained trees, instead of chopping them down?

Sharon Chin – Monument Termite (2016) [from “Local Fauna (In Progress!)”]

Mortification of the flesh is a religious practice that is difficult to forget once seen. In Rajinder Singh’s case, it is the bearing of kavadi by devotees who worship the Hindu God of war, and the cheek & skin piercings commonly associated with this ritual. The artist expands his horizon to include many other cultural icons which represent deliverance, or the human need for atonement from shame. At the deep end of the gallery, a sequence of straight lines cut into five fingers is projected, disarming the visitor who had just walked past gilded poles and an assortment of Chinese plates & bowls laid out on the ground. Rajinder says that these objects are part of a performance to re-enact a wake, which is documented on a screen nearby.

Three Studies on Everlasting (2016)

Wall hangings fall into three categories – square mandala-like paintings with figurative poses embedded, triptychs that both construct and deconstruct cultural designs, and large depictions of icons amalgamated from various cultures the artist is familiar with. The latter works are impressive and dominate a large corridor space. Rajinder appropriates the spatial memory of encountering such icons, instead of just depicting the subject’s form, the larger-than-life works imposing an authority akin to a magnificent marble statue seen within a Roman Catholic church. Disparate parts are fun to make out, but inconsequential to the overall interpretation – peacock feathers headdress, Chinese warrior vest and blade, stumpy yet elegant legs from Indian statues, angel wings, Balinese dance costume, Greek arms and silver halos…

Restitution (2016)

With titles like ‘Penance’ and ‘Reparation’, the theme of ‘Forgiveness’ is reinforced via repeated depictions of the vel, a divine javelin that is represented by the skewer in ritual practice. Most spear tips are embellished with gold leaf by the artist; multiple layers on the canvas demands a closer look. According to the artist, sand was laid over gesso to create a fine textured surface. Images of body parts are subsequently silkscreened, then oil paint and glittery metal sheets are applied, and powder is used in some cases. The end effect is slightly superficial but undeniably gorgeous, as vague memories of cultural rituals are re-constructed into a single figurative representation. That the bindi– a red dot on the centre of one’s forehead, worn by Hindu women – functions only as decorative element in these paintings, is the whole point.

Purification (2016)

Balancing out these imposing works are the triptychs, typically composed of close-ups, plan views, and amalgamated structures constructed from pictures of religious sites. The architectural perspective of space provides a complementing dimension to the central theme of deliverance, as such motifs appropriate the spiritual experience attached to these forms by its initial creators. In ‘Three Studies on Immortality’, scratchy cloud patterns seen in Chinese temples are flanked by a Greek/Indian double image, and three towers that recall ringing medieval bells. Encounter with these icons belong to memories of different time and space, yet these visual cues refer to a singular element, that of a historical reverence for human salvation. When a church, temple, and mosque, is conflated to a single ghostly design, the spiritual aura does not diminish, even enhanced on further gazing.

Accept (2016)

Relative to other exhibits, the square mandala-like paintings denote the most simplistic aesthetic form of divinity, in its geometry and re-presentation of puja poses. Vel skewers become guide lines dividing each picture into quadrants, curiously negating a radial effect which potentially better fit this show. With its attention to detail, personal interpretations of accumulated experience, literally varied perspectives, and all through tinted lenses, Rajinder’s works propose an approach similar to its subject matter. To deliver oneself from one’s acknowledged frailties, a firm dedication to form and (aesthetic) purity is required for transforming one’s self. Cultivate attachment to attain detachment. However ostensible it may be, the end result is magnificent, as we know it.

Three Studies on Immortality (2016)

…This segment of Balai Seni Lukis Negara’s “MAPPING” project focuses on the 1960s and 1970s timeframe in Malaysian art history. A glaring difference with “Formasi” showing downstairs, is the lack of archival documentation which supplement the exhibits. The presentation of “Peralihan” is split into two galleries without a clear narrative difference, resulting in an incongruous visiting experience. One obvious reference is the clichéd tale of Abstract Expressionism’s popularity, and artists’ reaction towards this preferred style. It is disappointing that the curators have chosen to go with this outdated storyline, even if it is a convenient excuse to fit pieces from the national collection, into two galleries of different sizes. Writings by Redza Piyadasa, who propagated this belief during his involvement with the institution, hang heavily within the second floor galleries.

Cheong Laitong – Black Magic (1964)

Such a set up renders the contents of Galeri 2B as periphery displays, a shame considering the great modernist qualities in a number of exhibits. T.K. Sabapathy writes in the 1976 “A View of Modern Sculpture in Malaysia” exhibition catalogue, that “(a)rt works produced on the basis of this (romantic) notion impress by the potency of the imagery, and the mastery of the craft.” Among the disparate layout for sculptures, Anthony Lau stands out with his wonderfully crafted pieces – bent & welded iron bars imbue ‘Jungle’ with an ominous feeling; applied ashes add a vitality to the polished rock surface of ‘Wild Bull’. Syed Ahmad Jamal’s visually-captivating ‘Perhubungan’ is also on display, as one notices that most creations in this gallery include obvious figurative elements, thereby debunking the myth (or lazy categorisation) of Abstract Expressionism in Malaysian art.

Anthony Lau – Wild Bull (1962)

Entering the larger Galeri 2A, one is greeted by Syed Ahmad’s ‘Jendela di Angkasa’; opposite it hangs a fine green-hued example of Ibrahim Hussein’s printage technique, titled ‘Mengapakah Kamu Begitu’. Both works belong in the section labelled ‘Refleksi terhadap Peristiwa Sosial’, perhaps because the former painting is “based on the students’ revolt in Paris in May 1968.” What comes to mind more immediately is the 1969 race riots in Kuala Lumpur, which had a profound effect on artists during that time. It is unclear if the national institution owns any critical works from that period – or has chosen not to exhibit it – but it cannot be ignored that one representative work following on this significant event (i.e. Piyadasa’s reconstructed coffin) is currently on display at the National Gallery Singapore.

Syed Ahmad Jamal – Window in the Sky (1969)

The gallery’s remaining exhibits are grouped either by noteworthy group shows or vague themes, thus highlighting the gaps in the national collection, with only few works allocated to each category. Safrizal Shahir writes “…that modern art of the 70s was a radical, bold and critical interpreter of the face and form of modern and postmodern Malaysian art.” Essays by the art academic are a key reference, although the vibrant multiplicity chronicled do not clearly manifest in this presentation. One resorts to appreciating outstanding individual artworks, of which there are many. Around the corner hangs Ib’s ‘Genting’, which Jamal once described as “…a harmonious and serene picture.” To me, it is a rousing picture of sublimated sex. All lines lead to the high point at the painting’s centre, effectively conflating the figurative peak and metaphorical climax into one.

Ibrahim Hussein – Genting (1978)

Abstract artworks displayed in the section titled ‘Pelukis Arena Baru’, refer to the six artists who participated in a 1969 exhibition titled “The New Scene”. Striving for an “…impersonal, non-symbolic approach”, the play on optics and the human eye’s peculiarities result in an enjoyable walkthrough. Focus on any one of Tang Tuck Kan’s ’49 Squares’, and the picture is never static. Colour blocks in Choong Kam Kow’s ‘Vibration’ fade in and out, while ‘Blue Movement’ by Sulaiman Esa mimics fabric texture via the use of dyes. That such geometric abstractions are in vogue again in the Malaysian art market, follows on a reactive impulse towards the art popular in its time, expressive figuration in the latter case. Behind this wall hangs an astonishing triptych by Syed Thajudeen, who paints one Indian folklore in his unique style that is ambitious in scale, and surreal in presentation.

Tang Tuck Kan – 49 Squares (1969)

Three works approach the subject of Malay identity, via different and increasingly meaningful entry points. Dwelling upon the surface, Anuar Rashid assigns a mythology (Hikayat Inderaputera) to his luminous and fantastical painting. Syed Ahmad’s woven triangles and horizontal bands utilise its medium and design to proclaim an equal affinity towards ethnicity and religion, although its visual presentation remains anchored in formal artistic traditions. Ruzaika Omar Basaree constructs a window frame featuring carved Malay motifs, the open pane inviting the viewer to take a peek and mediate one’s expectations about Malay-ness. That these works are grouped together with the Ramayana mural and a Kam Kow print, and presented as ‘Refleksi terhadap Kebudayaan’, highlight a retrograde (and race-stereotype, in this case) segmentation that besets “MAPPING: Transition”...

Installation snapshot [from l to r]: Ruzaika Omar Basaree – Siri Dungun (1979); Syed Ahmad Jamal – Tumpal (1975); Anuar Rashid – Kelahiran Inderaputera (1978)

...Ponderings about being Muslim are made manifest in complementing prints by Sulaiman Esa and Ponirin Amin, which should have been placed closer together. The former utilises iconographic juxtaposition to present an ongoing inquisition, while the latter formalises a meditative moment via gridlines, the girl in the foreground acting as an appreciative intermediary with the Supreme Being. At the opposite end of the gallery, one comes across in sequence - a reconceptualised pastoral landscape by Redza Piyadasa, two paintings by Ismail Zain highlighting the aura of cultural motifs, Joseph Tan’s large and misty scene, and a pioneering example of Islamic calligraphy as fine art by Ahmad Khalid Yusof. Appreciation quickly turns into irritation, as I notice that the English titles have been omitted from wall labels, an observation applicable to other exhibits in the gallery.

Ponirin Amin – Dalam Sinar Mu (1978)

Displayed together under the section titled ‘Pasca Dasar Kebudayaan Kebangsaan’, these five artworks form an awkward collection that appear irrelevant to its theme. The National Cultural Congress 1971 is often cited as an important milestone in Malaysian visual art history, in terms of a paradigm shift from Art for Art’s Sake to Art for Society’s Sake, and an official endorsement to incorporate more Malay cultural motifs within artworks. How these pieces can be attributed to this single event, require strong justifications from the curators, if clarifications are necessary. Walking past photographic collages and expressionist paintings, I stand awed by one eccentric painting by Zulkifli Dahlan. At the centre-left of ‘Kedai-Kedai’, people sit and eat at roadside stalls underneath trees that recall the Post-Impressionist stylings of Gauguin/ Van Gogh.

Ponirin Amin – Dalam Sinar Mu (1978)

The somewhat disproportionate scale of naked figures, denote a keen understanding of human perception towards its immediate environs, as one imagines a similar scene while sitting along a pavement and gazing upon a busy street in the late evening. This painting was among the pieces displayed in the 1973 “Man and his World” competition, which joint-winners include a collection of personal items by Sulaiman Esa, and Nirmala Dutt Shanmughalingam’s ‘Statement 1’. In a 1998 exhibition at a private gallery, Chu Li writes that the latter work “…had set the precedent for the role of artist as social commentator in Malaysia.” Consisting of onsite photographs and newspaper snippets, Nirmala’s documentary approach is a formal and truthful account (contrary to art’s assumed illusory properties) of matters one deems worth expressing. In other words, a statement.

Nirmala Dutt Shanmughalingam – Statement 3 (1979)

More potent is ‘Statement 3’, where photographs of children living at Kampung Batu 4 Jln. Damansara, were taken over a course of four subsequent years, then juxtaposed against captures of the then-recently completed residential areas of Bukit Damansara and Bangsar. Reportedly rejected at the time of its creation for being “too socialist”, the national institute then collected the work in 1983. Being bought into the national collection, however, is not always a positive situation for a local artist. Lee Kian Seng, who protested in the past about Balai’s treatment of his sculpture ‘Mankind’, will again be disappointed to witness the current presentation, which was missing a layer of grass at the time of visit (although a plaque does state that “Restoration Work is in Progress”). The artist also claimed that the same work was wrongly installed, at a group exhibition in 2000 curated by Redza.

Installation snapshot of Lee Kian Seng – Mankind (1973)

It is ironic then that Kian Seng’s creation is placed adjacent to, an entire section devoted to Piyadasa and his synonymous association with Conceptual Art in Malaysian art history. Walking past painted shadows, and cringing at self-righteous (and sometimes multi-coloured) string of words, I return to the ‘Empty Canvas’. Along with one empty birdcage, these items were first shown at the landmark 1974 exhibition “Towards A Mystical Reality”. The painting is an intriguing item – it is primed and stapled over its frame a few times over, the gaping marks left behind then, even clearer now. The object describes a moment in a painting’s lifecycle, but due to it being displayed ahead of time (of its intended period), the object turns into a relic, full of imagined potential yet useless in its current form. Additional meaning is introduced into the object as time goes on, so… when is art?

Installation snapshots of Redza Piyadasa & Sulaiman Esa – Empty Canvas (1974)

Reflecting critically on the merits of individual artworks is a worthwhile activity, but a curated exhibition – especially one with the ambitious objective to establish a permanent exhibition of a national collection – deserves scrutiny as a whole. After the successful staging of “PEMBENTUKAN”, “PERALIHAN” is a let-down, which perhaps implies a structural issue about the re-telling of history in this country. Without archival documentation and wall labels introducing the exhibition segments, the hackneyed categories project an over-simplified narrative of Malaysian art history, resulting in an incongruous visiting experience. In an era when postmodernism is a meaningless adjective, it is perhaps best that Western art movement like Abstract Expressionism and Conceptual Art are no longer used to describe Malaysian artworks. That is the transition, we need..

Syed Thajudeen (1972) [from l to r]: Ramayana; Hanuman Visits Sita; Ramayana

Is it coincidence that the years which a Malaysian prime minister was in power (1981 – 2003), can be transcribed into an art exhibition? No doubt it is convenient, as organisers like utilising a fixed duration to fix the scope of a gallery exhibition. Since the guy is still regularly in the news, the free publicity is an added bonus, right? On the fifth floor, the visitor is greeted by comic panels that were first published on newsprint in the early 1980s, and a History Channel documentary produced in 2009. On the third floor (the fourth floor boys are absent from this building?), newly commissioned works include coffee-stained photographic collages, and recorded interviews which exhibited form (as a three-channel video installation) undermines its candid content. Is this exhibition capturing a zeitgeist, a legacy, or neither?

Detail installation snapshots of Liew Kung Yu – Pasti Boleh (Sure Can One) (1997)

The incoherence extends to the exhibits’ nonsensical arrangement, where convenience and spectacle are deemed more critical factors over the artwork’s individual context. Liew Kung Yu’s larger-than-life collage-sculptures ‘Pasti Boleh (Sure Can One)’ occupy one end of the gallery, and feature interactive elements to entertain visitors. The artist’s disarming use of icons – from golf balls to classical motifs to DBKL tong sampahs – is delightful and ironic for the most part, but it is the repeating image of the Petronas Twin Towers which is problematic. Relegating Kuala Lumpur’s most famous building to an opportunistic phallic symbol is an effective artful approach, but falters here when the work is situated in another steel tower built by one associated with the same authoritarian regime, that made the Twin Towers a Malaysian reality.

Hamidah Abdul Rahman – Self-portrait (2000)

The exhibition space itself is a potent element which neutralises the majority of works, especially Chuah Chong Yong’s towering installation at the gallery’s other end. Metal sculptures by Multhalib Musa and Zulkifli Yusoff are placed side-by-side with Hamidah Abdul Rahman’s black-eyed ‘Self-portrait’, thereby pitting heroic gestures against a personal reaction, to events grounded in Malay feudalism. On the opposite wall, Azizan Paiman’s droll illustrations make fun of rhetorical quotes, yet missing are works from the same series that feature Mahathir Mohamad and Daim Zainuddin. General commentaries in the form of metaphors provoke a cynical chuckle – such as Phuan Thai Meng’s leaking pipes, and Juhari Said’s corsage-flaunting gorilla – while one wonders the relevance of showing prints from the “Digital Collage” series by Ismail Zain.

Vincent Leong – Lot 3-75 (2012)

Therein lies the crux of this exhibition’s problems. By naming him, all issues and circumstances that occurred during a fixed duration are correlated with only one person, thus granting further agency to one powerful individual. Was an international tourism marketing campaign led by Mahathir? Why is the controversial National Economic Policy associated to just Mahathir? What does the Malaysian middle class’ liking for roman columns have anything to do with Mahathir? The reaction by artists to Ops Lalang – a political oppression that can be directly attributed to Mahathir – is only presented as documents in a glass box. Photographs and newspaper snippets overlay each other, denoting the carelessness and nonchalance of the organizers. Opposite, small screens play recordings of the eight-hour long ‘Skin Trilogy’ by Five Arts Centre, nary a chair nearby to ease one’s viewing experience.

[Jo Kukathas) #TanyaYBeeee – Will the petrol price affect the poor? [video published on 18th September 2013 on popteevee YouTube channel]

A compilation of Jo Kukathas’ ‘YBeeee’ videos offer welcome humour, as I pivot away from the proposed theme, to focus upon logical groupings of artworks. The found object aesthetic seems prevalent amongst MIA graduates, while painters prove that figurative depictions can portray strong emotions as effectively as abstract brushwork. One wall displaying works by Yee I-Lann, Nirmala Dutt Shanmughalingham, and Vincent Leong, project great examples of socio-political artwork, where the artists’ vantage point (i.e. perspectives) are literally embedded in the creation of pictures. Despite my detestation for large paintings, Ahmad Fuad Osman’s intense self-portrait stand out as an effective protest symbol in this politically-saturated gallery space, where the repressed sentiment is still present 17 years later. Also relevant today is the visual elucidation of the impact of media images, in Nur Hanim Khairuddin's video 'se(RANG)ga'.

Detail snapshots of Anurendra Jegadeva – Running Indians and the History of Malaysian Indians in 25 Clichés (2001)

A missing strain in this narrative is the emergence of collectors who were supportive of politically-charged expressions, masquerading as the thinking person’s art (a notion still popular now, as if the Moderns thought lesser). They likely belong to a social class that patronised one of the curator’s former private gallery, where more than half of the current exhibits have shown before. Further convoluting the presentation are the four catalogue essays, which cover broad topics related to authoritarian rule, but only one relating to Malaysia's visual art history. So what if Mahathir had no interest in visual art? Why is there no mention of Anwar’s role in the nation’s gradual Islamization? Who decided to include ‘Puncak Purnama’ into the exhibition’s chronological timeline at the last minute? Where is Syed Ahmad Jamal’s logo design for Parti KeAdilan Nasional? APA? SIAPA? KENAPA?

Nirmala Dutt Shanmughalingham – Great Leap Forward VI – Bakun (1998)

“The reductive Era Mahathir branding is the sound of the first mine going off. I wonder why you would want to brand an exhibition of progressive, independent art with the name of a politician, no matter how important you consider him to be? It immediately brings to bear issues of power, gender, patriarchy, ethnicity and ideological interpellation. It has the effect of branding all the work in the show. And it underscores the impression that the exhibition, and the gallery itself, are tied into the game of thrones of Malaysian politics. The public will be forced to confront the spectacle of a supposed struggle between Barisan power elites, with Mahathir and Daim on one side vs Najib and his cronies on the other. But when boiled down to a paste, don’t both sides really represent the same ethos and ideology? And is it an ethos and ideology shared by the exhibited artists?”

‎- excerpt from Ray Langenbach‎’s 5th July 2016 letter to Rahel Joseph, as published in a posting dated 13th September 2016 on ILHAM gallery’s Facebook page

Ahmad Fuad Osman – Syhhh..! Dok diam-diam, jangan bantah. Mulut hang hanya boleh guna untuk vakap yaaaa saja. Baghu hang boleh join depa... senang la jadi kaya (1999)

At a selling exhibition where proceeds are channelled to an aid organisation, this visitor cannot sidestep the cause which the charity represents. Subtitled ‘Love for Sale’, the event theme offers the interesting prospect for interpretations about social stigma and sexual attitudes, although that is admittedly too much to ask for in a group show. Artists’ neutral approach result in many exhibits with Love in its title, although only a few works can be forced-fit into the theme. Signature-style paintings by two established artists surprise with re-contextualized displays. Ahmad Zakii Anwar’s two-dimensional still-life of fruits and vegetables, suggest an irrepressible human desire; One hanging brassiere used by Chan Kok Hooi to mock a political party, now become a cynical commentary about sex for money, via ideograms painted over used denim.

Chan Kok Hooi – Love Me in My LV (2016)

Ambiguity is fine until the point it becomes obscure, e.g. Bibi Chew’s “Good Cells”. Animal as symbol is a popular approach too, evident from the peacocks depicted in creations by Alexandra Hon and Kim Ng. Less subtle is ‘The Secret World of Love’ by Hisyamuddin Abdullah, the picture featuring on its foreground a duck ferrying a raincoat-wearing figure, whose face is buried in his hands in shame. Walking past the rather inappropriate up close and personal capture of an artist couple, then a large painting of young ladies in black singlets embracing, Khairul Azmir Shoib’s work stands out with its bleak mood. Looking at an illustration of a topless lady in pantyhose (with legs wide open) is already a disturbing sight, the discomfort aggravated further by the artist’s cartoonish characterization.

Haslin Ismail – A Little Box of Miracles in the Solar System (2016)

Haslin Ismail’s cut-outs arranged in containers are always interesting, of which four examples are exhibited here. ‘A Little Box of Miracles in the Solar System’ is an exceptional small work, where images of cosmological diagrams are crammed within a compartmentalized wooden box. Space as human curiosity – defined from ancient times to the medieval era – is transcribed here as a literal display of curios, complete with arcane signs and oval shapes that become markers for other spatial dimensions. Taking a different approach is Tetriana Ahmed Fauzi, whose photograph projects a colourful and alien-looking plant emerging within an open oven. It is a curious image of hope (or the end of it), where the extra-terrestrial grows out of an extreme environment made by man.

Tetriana Ahmed Fauzi – Siti (2012)

Resisting the temptation to treat such group shows as a survey of Malaysian art (now), I end up dwelling upon visually-minimal works. Acrylic drawings of humans from the back, are justaposed with various re-scaled plants by Poodien, the picture invoking a poetic sense of disconnectedness. Azam Aris’ ‘Belajar Untuk Pergi’ utilizes gold thread to depict pairs of hands, seemingly reaching out for help from deep pools of water. The embroidered pillow is endowed with cultural connotations that cannot be ignored, and the image of open-palm hands raised overhead, is a powerful one. From aspirations of self-actualization, to dreams of breaking away from one’s identity, to social events like weddings and migrations, the emotional charges that propels one’s motivation is always wading in a deep puddle. Sleep on it, and time to go.

Azam Aris – Belajar Untuk Pergi (2016)

Snapshot at "Dari Langit dan Bumi"

The impulse of creation

aligns not with the impulse of reception

The refuge of mother nature

Contradicts the human impulse to create

Line, colour, and texture Come from nature

Yet, imbued with emotions Come from experience

The horizon is mistaken for a simple divide

When the space between is a gulf

of unimaginable proportion

of unbounded memories, remembered or recalled

The Almighty is the Sublime no matter how small

is a light particle that travels the Earth

From sky to ground, eye to non-sense

The presence is an absence in the abstract of the moment

Hamidi Hadi - Fragile (2016)

An exhibition about Malaysian artists who “work internationally” starts off on the wrong foot, by greeting presenting each visitor with a world map overlaid with random historical events. This display, wall texts, and catalogue essay, are equally irrelevant, because the exhibition’s emphasis on pluralism in art practices, is an outmoded symptom of our contemporary situation. Granted, the corporate gallery has no new works from its collection to showcase, but it remains surprising how consistently incoherent are its curatorial efforts. So what if an artist has stayed overseas for a long duration – was it an extended travel time? Staying on for a residency? Migrated and changed nationalities? Where was the work itself produced? Does any of these matter?

Ali 'Mabuha' Rahamad - Madusa #2 (1986)

A number of artworks exhibit individual merits, but one is compelled to only talk about the 25 minutes spent watching Hayati Mokhtar’s and Dain Iskandar Said’s ‘Near Intervisible Lines’ (the panoramic video is 45 minutes long and shown here via four projectors). As interviewees talk about their experiences on the left-most screen, the vast beach and sky occupy the audience’s vision. The narratives lend a mythical air to the snail-paced projection, as winds of imagined change complement moving shadows. People go off-screen into purposeful punctures, while the horizon provides a false impression of stability. The assertiveness of nature and time’s passing, is mistaken for inhibited poetry. Where there are no boundaries, there is no safe crossing. So much can be said about art practices.

Installation snapshot of Hayati Mokhtar & Dain Iskandar Said - Near Intervisible Lines (2006)

Azliza Ayob ends her year-long residency at Rimbun Dahan – which includes her family moving in together – with an incredibly well-balanced exhibition, the lush surroundings providing both inspiration and contextual background to one whose works often comment upon consumer culture. Themes that emerge include personal interpretation (celebration and self-doubt), and formal representation (modernism and craft), which utilised medium is a significant factor in creating this plurality within art forms. Entering the basement gallery, one is greeted by stunning constructs made from PET bottles, although the artist’s acrylic paintings and collages in her characteristic surreal glittery style manage to hold its own remarkably well.

Blessings (2016)

The exhibition begins with a decidedly incisive presentation. Wall attachments such as ‘Passion’ (a giant red bunga raya), and ‘Shield’ (with its feather-like leaves/petals) invoke a Koons-like wonder at the meticulous craft involved, yet ‘Eternity’ (fish scales tinted in ocean colours) immediately projects a cynical take on the issue of marine plastic pollution. ‘Misery’, an all-black assemblage of a garden, protrudes into the viewer’s space; Its complementary work ‘Serenity’ hangs beside, its blue-green tints and sparsely arranged plastic strips leading the viewer, to notice the hand-woven effort and wire mesh support that make up these large creations. One broken branch – made from the same recyclable plastic materials – lies on the ground, its lucid blended colours reminding of a toxicity, its singular presentation a symbol of contemporary reality.

Shield (2016)

On the lighter side, the suspended ring-shaped ‘Enchanted’ is a magnet for social media moments. Many other exhibits are equally joyous, where painted works celebrate the abundant land, or record anecdotal observations during the artist’s residency. From the repeating flowers and raking of dried leaves in ‘Blessings’, the onion heads in ‘Excursion’, the back of a woman resting on a mat in ‘Reminisce’, to the dramatically-posed figures in ‘Torn: Act One’, one gets a glimpse of Azliza’s memories and observations. Surrounded by nature (crafted from decades of human intervention) and friendly persons, one is compelled to be grateful and savour the immediate environment, and temporarily put aside material concerns and political positions.

Detail snapshots of painted/ collage artworks

Nevertheless, Azliza is one who understands her art medium well. A single stream of trickling water glimmers in the outdoor centre of the gallery space. On closer inspection, it is a string of glass and plastic beads, non-expensive decorative products valued for its light-reflective properties. Two vertical creations – ‘Forbidden’ and ‘Valor’ – is made up of countless PET bottles, where jellyfish and leaf shapes are evidently cut from bottles in an upside down position, this approach denoting an opportunistic act to subvert the bottles’ original erect and consumer-friendly form. Exhibited paintings tend to be in the landscape format, which allow for imagined narratives; ‘Where We Belong’ implies an introspective vision by virtue of its title. A rocky waterfall landscape surrounded by flowers and greenery, is populated with surreal subjects and beaming doors.

Detail snapshots of artworks made with PET bottles: [clockwise from left, 2016] Serenity; Eternity; Enchanted

Taking in the fresh air and green foliage at Rimbun Dahan, one thinks about the circle of life– flowers bloom and wilt, insects are caught in spider webs, leaves are reborn as trees grow taller. Human creations, however, privilege durability and longevity beyond the duration of an individual’s average lifespan. Utilizing consumer waste to create objects for cultural consumption, Azliza’s thrifty but laborious approach successfully highlights the distorted link, between source material and economic value. No amount of mosquito repellent, will prevent one getting bitten by the bug, known as consumer greed. The objects we buy outlast us, for better or worse. Here, the artist offers an optimistic worldview to face one’s nihilistic self-awareness. Focus on our immediate surroundings, be gracious, and be joyful. Enchanting, indeed.

Snapshot by a toddler of an adult looking at 'Where We Belong' (2016)

Blame it on the economic & political gloom, but 2016 feels like a dour year in visual art highlights. Nevertheless, there are moments to cherish by looking back at... In the city centre, “MAPPING” stands out as a significant step for the National Visual Arts Gallery in exhibiting its permanent collection. Only the 1970s iterationTransition was a disappointment, due to a lack of wall texts to justify its curated sections. Nevertheless, the opportunity for the committed visitor to learn about Malaysia’s visual art history, is an invaluable one. Despite my reservations about its incoherent curatorial approaches (and the politics of the exhibition spaces), Galeri Petronas’ “YMA: New Object(ions) III” and ILHAM’s “Love Me in My Batik” present a number of good artworks. One realization is that an exceptional painting can stand up well against more contemporary expressions, although Malaysian collectors’ preference for framed paintings with obvious brushstrokes remain a troubling trend.

George Giles - Che Ali (1885) [ [GIF file from Balai Seni Visual Negara Facebook post dated 30th November 2016]

One missed opportunity is Jeganathan Ramanchandran’s solo exhibition, which looked great on first glance but a more thorough visit was surprisingly cut short, as the comprehensive exhibition in Balai's expansive top floor gallery lasted only two weeks. Nearby at Sutra Gallery, Sivarajah Natarajan’s celebration of headgear utilised in traditional dance performances was tremendously enjoyable, the artist’s deep appreciation of his subject matter evident in joyful depictions. Less eye-catching but equally heartfelt are surreal drawings by Shahrul Hisham at Segaris, whose careful and well-drawn illustrations are a delight to appreciate. Umibaizurah Mahir’s “Fragile” was an ambitious exhibition of charming ceramic sculptures, that would have probably sold well at an international art fair, as compared to at The Edge Galerie.

Shahrul Hisham Ahmad Tarmizi - Ugly Duckling Turntable (2015) [picture taken from artist's Behance page]

Wei-Ling Gallery was the only commercial gallery that presented more than one memorable exhibition in 2016. From Minstrel Kuik’s domestication of political paraphernalia, to Sun Kang Jye’s inversely-painted biblical verses, to mix ‘n match religious icons by Rajinder Singh, these artworks offered different perspectives for interpreting visual icons and recognizing visual cues. For enjoyment of good ol’ medium-sized paintings, solo shows by Liew Kwai Fei at Richard Koh’s, and Maamor Jantan at Universiti Malaya, proved invigorating with personal representations of subject matter close to the artists’ hearts. Detaching oneself from the self-perpetuating stupidity of the news cycle, the optimism inherent in Azliza Ayob’s wonderful plastic creations and glittery collages rubbed off myself at Rimbun Dahan, especially when one visits the charming gallery with a curious toddler.

Snapshot taken at Minstrel Kuik's solo exhibition "After-image: Living with the Ghosts in my House"

Independent art spaces provide the interesting sights. Lorong Kekabu featured wisecracking works by Izat Arif, and a promising photography-based show by young artists; One small architecture-related exhibition at PORT Commune piqued my interest. “Panggung Art Weekend” offered art objects for sale on the higher floors, as I gleefully picked up a number of creative expressions. A price ceiling and a salon hang make for an attractive display, as compared to the typical small-sized illustrations and paintings found at Publika’s Art Row. Also exhibited at upstairs shop lots are delightful musings about gender identity by Shieko Reto/ Shika Corona, and a "SHOW" consisting abstruse video collages by Wang Rou, which give the impression that his media/(network-ed?) art is many years ahead of other regional contemporary artists.

Snapshot of Anonymous Art Market at Lostgens' [picture from Panggung Art Weekend Facebook post dated 20th August 2016]

One memorable 2016 time was spent visiting the “Derivative Modernity in Nanyang Art” exhibition at Oriental Art & Cultural Association. After 90 minutes looking at chops, scrolls, and Chinese ink brushstrokes, reading each caption, and listening to the QR Code-triggered commentary, I come away blank, as though what I have just seen could not register as art. The Chinese Ideogram as visual form excludes the uneducated viewer, and further manipulation, e.g. the application of ‘scripts’, appears to negate whatever meaning the ideogram carries in the first place. Exhibitions like this one gives me hope that there are visual representations supposedly close to one’s personal history, that remains a mystery. That art can still deliver a neutral judgement, in this times which political positions must be declared, is truly a blessing.

Snapshot of "衍生-南洋書畫印的現代性" exhibition at Oriental Art & Cultural Association [picture from gallery's Facebook page photo album]

Some artists leave the audience bowled over with sheer technical skill, yet the work’s emotional impact is zero. Hasanul Isyraf Idris’ all-over illustrations belong in this category, where contextual terms such as ‘drawing’, ‘surreal’, and ‘pop’, have failed to register significance in my personal appreciation. Finally, I come across one work which strikes a chord, but I am unsure which observation holds the key in attracting my attention. Is it the unique logos that form the frame? Is it the fantastic waves that set the scene for a mythical narrative? Is it the blocks of ice and yellow jump suits that recall Bruce Lee in The Big Boss? Is it a necessary violent depiction of bloodletting? Is it the familiar sight of an oil drilling derrick? Is it the caricature of a bubbly climax after oral sex? Is it the ogres, snakes, and faceless characters? Is it the layout of an archaeological excavation site? Is it…

Detail snapshots of Hasanul Isyraf Idris – Krishna Tongue (2016)

A movie about exorcising living ghosts from the past. Who was created because photographic snapshots were crystallised on glass plate negatives. In Borneo, in 1915. A mythical bird lives on in human form. Which feeds on living ghosts. In a city that looks like Kuala Lumpur. Despite its urban locations and fast-paced action, Dain Iskandar Said’s Interchange is grounded less in reality as compared to his previous feature film Bunohan. Everyone who becomes part of the myth, has their fate sealed with inevitability. The myth consumes its characters, literally. Photographs record memories; Its flat form and more fragile source manifest physical evidence of life. Inserting philosophical questions into a crime noir, the director exhibits great flair in storytelling via strong characters and a mysterious backdrop. Cannot wait for his next feature in five years time!

Movie still from Interchange (2016) [picture taken from screenanarchy.com]

Japanese department store Isetan opens its swanky The Japan Store, which top floor The Cube houses a bookstore stocked with art-related titles, a collaborative makespace with 3-D printing facilities, and exhibition spaces featuring works by Japanese artists. Media artist Yoichi Ochiai 落合陽一 stages one curious yet fascinating show “Image and Matter”, that experiments with technological modes and visual perceptions. Amidst the flickering light & shadows, floating dust & orbs, I stand fascinated viewing one video about creating a light-object with a femtosecond laser. That tiny physical matter is malleable by bursts of light to create 3-D images, distorts further the truthfulness of human visual perception, and that informative realisation itself is worth the RM 40 entrance fee.

Digital Nature Group – Fairy Lights in Femtoseconds (2015)

A visit to the Vietnam Fine Arts Museum provided a wonderful respite, from the bustling traffic of Hanoi Old Quarter. A number of 17th century lacquered wood sculptures on the ground floor, enthral with its sheer beauty and expressive features. Wise man, old man, or servant to the Buddha, one detects certain exaggerated characteristics in each creation. Walking past galleries of wall hangings – silk, lacquered, and oil paintings – I visually marked down works that caught my interest, and was amazed to find this shortlist mostly populated with works by Trần Văn Cẩn, one of the “four masters” in Vietnamese fine art canon. Working across mediums and styles, an attractive composition is a key feature across the artist’s varied output. How did artists from that era become proficient across multiple mediums?

Trần Văn Cẩn – Mùa thu đan len (1959 – 1961)

John McDonald writes, “(e)ven by the absurdist standards of the Biennale circuit, An Atlas of Mirrors is a phrase guaranteed to confound audiences.” The visitor is greeted by a finger to the Singapore Art Museum, where one expects a typical mix of spectacle, crowd-pleasing visual effects, traditional motifs, and jargon-laden texts, accompanying works by notable Asian artists (Caucasians are excluded?) Ignoring curatorial demarcations, I enjoy the wide range of mediums utilised on show, having come from a painting-saturated art scene. Like H.H. Lim standing atop a basketball, one threads a balance when appreciating works – between wow factor and conventional tropes, between folk tradition and cultural appropriation, between metaphorical mediation and rigid symbols; I stumble when the first work I see is made up of 100 square mirrors. This is as straightforward as it gets.

Detail snapshot of work from Pala Pothupitiye – Other Map Series (2016)

After being creeped out by one illuminating two-sided mirror, impressed by tiny scripts that illustrate a Javanese folktale, confounded by an installation of vibrating wok lids, immersed with Sharmiza Abu Hassan’s formal adaptation of a story from Sejarah Melayu, and delighted by lovely drawings over maps of Sri Lanka, I stand entranced in front of a dense foliage of incense sticks. Hemali Bhuta’s arrangement offers a welcome break from artworks and an exhibition layout that demand visitors to interact with it; I leave the room charmed and refreshed from the emanated sweet scents. Upstairs, Tan Zi Hao’s ‘The Skeleton of Makara (The Myth of a Myth)’ stands up as an excellent subversive object within the biennale presentation. Why is the skeleton of a dinosaur in an art museum? Was the dinosaur excavated in this region? Is this skeleton real, or made up? Is this dinosaur art, or is art a dinosaur?

Installation snapshot of Tan Zi Hao – The Skeleton of Makara (The Myth of a Myth) (2016)

A number of spectacular works are exhibited on the second floor. Qiu Zhijie illustrates maps with terminologies associated literally with atlas, which progressively develops into an encyclopaedic list of animals and places. Mythological creatures in crystal are displayed together, accentuating further the durational impact of cartography as an activity. Navigating from the ‘Sea of Geopolitik’ to the ‘Mount of Twelve Titans’, one encounters sheer joy in the arbitrary nature of this cultural & literal mapping exercise. Pannaphan Yodmanee’s ‘Aftermath’ exhibits an apocalyptic scene – weighty chunks of concrete with painted murals, metal grids jutting out of hard surfaces – that impresses at first sight. Upon reflection, the presentation fits too neatly with an imagined place gleaned from end-of-days action blockbusters, notwithstanding the inherent appeal of pools of azure paint.

Installation and detail snapshots of Qui Zhijie – One Has to Wander through All the Outer Worlds to Reach the Innermost Shrine at the End (2016)

Martha Atienza‘s multimedia installation successfully creates an environment, where one feels like bobbing along in a small ship cabin for ‘Endless Hours at Sea’. In another dark room, I recharge again while looking at starry night scenes made by Ni Youyu with chalk, and magnets. Traditional Hmong embroidery by Tcheu Siong depict Laotian spirits as interpreted by her village shaman husband, which geometric forms and tactile surface manifest a narrative as well as any other art medium. With surprisingly few videos on show, one should forgo Araya Rasdjarmrearnsook’s obscure 5-channel work, and spend time viewing documentary records by Wen Pulin. Capturing critical moments in Chinese contemporary art history, I watched the segment about Xiao Lu’s controversial gun-shooting performance 肖魯《槍擊事件》, where the artist insisted in an interview that the act was a personal gesture.

Detail snapshots of works from Adeela Suleman – Dread of Not Night series (2015–2016)

Equally violent is the blood oath taken by S. Chandrasekaran, who cut himself in protest of the organizers’ decision to disallow his planned performance, on grounds of it being religiously-insensitive. Metal hooks meant for the performance remain displayed on the third floor of 8Q, now transformed into markers of state-sponsored censorship. Htien Lin’s carved soaps are incidentally displayed in the adjacent gallery, reminding the audience that freedom cannot wash away the shackles of oppression. Re-arranging historical objects to depict the ‘Singapore Human Resources Institute’, Ade Darmawan’s superb installation celebrates a foundational organization that has contributed to Singapore’s first-world status. Yet, with its broken chairs, stickers on wallpaper, and chopped slogans, one senses that the artist is left out in this development, and still playing catch up now.

Installation snapshots of Ade Darmawan – Singapore Human Resources Institute (2016)

Hidden away in a small room behind heavy curtains is one of the biennale’s best work. ‘Hearings’ by Jack Tan is a collaboration with charity organization Community Justice Centre, where the artist interprets sounds from court proceedings as graphical scores, that are subsequently performed by a choir. Xun Wei Er’s careful review describes the moral economy manifest in this work, and emphasises that “…voice is a significant if not the predominant means of engaging with…” the viewer. The clash of languages – oral, visual, musical – is intriguing, and extends the meaning of “representation” into the social realm. The law favours the learned and the privileged, not unlike art. Dwelling upon this sobering thought, I walk past impenetrable lightboxes by Niranjan Rajah, also sympathizing with Azizan Paiman’s eccentric pop-up café which sits uncomfortably on 8Q’s porch.

Detail snapshots of works from Jack Tan – Hearings (2016)

Ahmad Fuad Osman’s expansive installation fares better at the Asian Civilisation Museum, as I gleefully note the number of visitors who come & go believing that the first person to circumnavigate the world was a Malay man. That lines between fact and fiction can be blurred to the point of uncertainty, is a ready approach in contemporary art-making, yet out of steps in times like this when fake news is rampant. With its elliptical curatorial theme, “An Atlas of Mirrors” pans out as an exhibition of individual artworks in visual dialogue with a familiar museum space, thereby leaving this visitor feeling like a missed opportunity. As Lim Qinyi asks in her crisp criticism, “…can a biennale that has so far fallen short of its touted complexity and reflexivity justify its existence beyond as a mere charade for larger political colonialist designs on the region’s art narratives?”

Installation snapshots of Ahmad Fuad Osman – Enrique de Malacca Memorial Project (2016)

I am intrigued with photography as an art medium. I am also intrigued by art that invokes deep realisations. Some say photography is not art. Some say art only needs to be beautiful. Formal, casual, smart-casual. There is an exhibition in KL now which contextualises one’s photographs as modernist, and not pictorialist. Another KL exhibition explores the stories of migrant workers, as interpreted via individual art approaches. The Kuala Lumpur I know is unfriendly yet dignified, crumbling yet melancholic, dirty yet orderly, ada Bandaraya tapi penghuninya orang se-kampung. Quoting John Berger, “(a)ll photographs are there to remind us of what we forget. In this – as in other ways – they are the opposite of paintings. Paintings record what the painter remembers.”

These beliefs, thoughts, and observations, come to a head on a second floor gallery of an old refurbished building near Masjid Jamek. The premise is simple – Kenny Loh displays a number of his photographs, accompanied with stories of individuals. Portraits of people introduce the audience to individuals who make a living in Kuala Lumpur, and have a personal story about migrating from, or to here. The images are culled from a larger project by Kenny named “Born in Malaysia”, which I first came across two year ago via a video shared on social media. The YouTube tagline introduces the project as, “(w)hat began as a trip down memory lane to his local barbershop, ended up as a 4-year journey documenting Malaysians from all walks of life”.

Older ones who have operated small businesses for decades, and those fortunate enough to be still running. Younger ones who bring fresh ideas to existing spaces. Dancers, social activists, and charity workers. Refugees who lead a difficult life, who once led a good life. The chosen pictures are ones where the individual concerned had posed. The surrounding environment – in a public space, or a private setting – provides contextual evidence of one’s daily life. Two journalist friends also share their photographs in the same format, and provide a good counterpoint to Kenny’s signature style. Jahabar Sadiq’s snapshot of Tung Sook and Tung sum is particularly endearing, whereas King Chai’s captures of Filipinos around Kota Raya is spontaneous, and come alive with narratives about entrepreneurship and financial freedom.

These are real people, who interact with real people, in the city. Among recent projects which aim to celebrate Kuala Lumpur and its inhabitants, “Rags to Riches” stands out with its straightforward presentation. The elements photographed will eventually die; From here one gauges the life of the subject matter, be it a person, a trade, a passion, a shop, or a circumstance. As a KL-ite, the photographs are familiar, and no artistic intervention is required to mediate the time & space being depicted. Ambition and opportunities are evident in these paragraph-photograph pairings, and successfully restores one’s faith in the city. Time to go out and buy the “Born in Malaysia” photobook from the nearest bookstore…

The introduction to this exhibition states, (i)n recent years, art has taken a back seat as (Wong) Hoy Cheong takes on a more active role in politics and policy-making. This may well be Hoy Cheong's final exhibition of never-before-seen paper-based works. For visitors who are familiar with Hoy Cheong's work, the exhibition can be seen as a mini-survey of his practice.” As the story goes, friends of the esteemed Malaysian artist came to the opening and asked, ‘where are Hoy Cheong’s works?’ For one who knows little about his oeuvre, this selling show of drawings and prints provides good insight into the artist’s methods. After a couple rounds of observation, I conclude that Hoy Cheong’s drawn line projects a strong sense of restlessness, which contradicts with the labour-intensive studies for installations also displayed in the gallery.

Exhibition snapshot

Two-worded statements demarcate the exhibits nicely into time periods, starting with a landscape painting from secondary school, to prints done overseas, to attempts at recording cultural forms, to political posters, and onto preparatory studies for large installations, or unrealised projects. Like everyone else, the influence of the Western canon is apparent in earlier works. By 1986, a certain figurative aesthetic was formed, which culminated in his landmark series of charcoal drawings “Of Migrants and Rubber Trees”. The exhibition fizzles out after “Women of Chow Kit”, as the remaining studies – collages, or small versions of installation work – are more interesting only if one knew about the end-product. One exception is the proposal for “Food of the Gods”, which illustrates 98 ‘Chocolate Slaves’ facing the window with sunlight streaming in. Bittersweet, one imagines.

Study for Installation: Food of the Gods - Chocolate History (1998)

Despite lowered expectations, I remain perturbed by the disappointment felt each time, when viewing works by relatively young Malaysian artists. Typically, the lacklustre quality can be attributed to three values in judgement: aesthetically not attractive enough (visual cues are derivative), conceptually weak (what can I learn more about this condition being highlighted via art?), and/or poor execution (a good idea is not enough). Walking past grotesque creations, bizarre contraptions, and a trapped Ultraman, one notices only three paintings on show. The increase of competition submissions utilising non-traditional mediums is encouraging on paper, although the final output leaves much to be desired. Technology is utilized to encourage audience interaction; However, a number of animated videos fail miserably with its amateurish presentations.

Installation snapshot of Helmi Azam Tajul Aris – Kepada Sesiapa Yang Berkenaan (2017)

Whenever encountering an artwork that hints at Malaysia’s multiculturalism, I am immediately suspicious, as a personal conviction surfaces that Balai is only a venue for promoting tourism. This observation applies to the mini heritage buildings of Ipoh scattered around in one gallery, and one woodcut/animation installation depicting the bamboo-slapping Magunatip dance. Liu Cheng Hwa’s ‘Golden Shaft’ is attractive yet obscure, and subscribes to a contemporary form more palatable to an international art audience. A number of works fall into this category, including creations by Haffendi Anuar and Saiful Razman that project formal concerns, social engagement projects by Hings Lim and Ho Mei Kei, and installations by Faizal Suhif and Haslin Ismail which generate spectacles.

Hafizzudin Abdul Jaidin – Magunatip Orang Kita (2016)

Tetriana Mohamed Fauzi arranges manipulated fabric and domestic wares into symmetrical patterns, with drawn objects representing fragments of the artist’s life adding to her charming wall display. One standout exhibit belongs to Yusri Yusoff, whose “Siri Buai Pesaka” are constructions made with wood salvaged from old Malay houses. A white plaster cast is strung onto each rocker, which together with the kain kuning and kemenyan displayed in front, and projecting light sequences, result in a compelling and mystical installation. Working with culturally-specific objects to comment upon a culture tends to be an effective approach, as one admires the artist’s attempt to preserve Malay-ness in a time when (a particular type of) religious practices are made synonymous with an ethnic group.

Installation view of Aiman Yusri Mohamad Yusoff – Siri Buai Pesaka (2016)

Two lighted-up installations leave good impressions too – Haris Abadi’s ‘Teletopia’, and ‘Kepada Sesiapa Yang Berkenaan’ by Azam Aris. Haris arranges a park scene complete with tree, leaves, and bench, while a talking face is projected onto a rock. Its mobile messaging sounds and casual chatter (“Bro!”) are witty, and offer an empathic take on the impact digital technologies have on our lives. On the flipside, Azam utilizes UV lights to illuminate a dark room with paper flowers and a starry wall, offering the visitor a moment of silence. The wall statement adds to its poetic poignancy: “’Maaf’ itu dapat merobohkan tembok ego yang kian menebal di dalam diri kita semua. Maaf ruang ini, maaf masa kini dan maaf tenaga gelap ini.” Bias and judgement soften in quiet solitude, as I unwittingly submit to be one of the concerned…

Installation view of Haris Abadi – Teletopia (2017); Detail snapshots inset

Competition submissions this round was notably lesser, after the fiasco that happened in the previous edition of the Young Contemporaries. Alas, leave it to the hidden hand to further undermine this competition. Despite judging sessions having already take place, Samsudin Wahab’s “Fakta Auta” wall presentation – an anti-KL Biennale logo, and fake news photographs – was removed two weeks after going up. Upon hearing this news, I thought of two other exhibits that somehow became relevant after this turn of events. Khairul Ehsani Sapari’s post-performance wall text for ‘~~Merdeka~~’ makes mention of “…destructive criticism and rejection.”; While one imagines ‘Meng-Wap’ by Melcom Anak Angkun as depicting the faceless oppressor. Whose art is more audacious? The one who presents exaggerated facts? Or the one who shows a looping video of steam?

[left] Installation view of Samsudin Wahab – Fakta Auta (2017), taken by author on 13th February 2017; [right] Picture from Fergana Art Facebook page, dated 18th February 2017

Pictorialist or Modernist? An irreverent argument, as what we see is contemporary history. Raja Ihsan Shah unpacks and exhibits more material from the archives containing Sultan Ismail Nasiruddin Shah’s photographic negatives and slides. On display are 58 well-composed pictures of Terengganu and other places around the world, many of which look like it was taken from an upstairs hotel room. Wall statements clarify photographic techniques utilized, including four hand-coloured photographs attributed to the zokinkage technique. One curious example titled ‘Broken gate and bicycle, Singapore’ depicts the subject matter with a blue sky background, yet Raja Ihsan revealed in a talk that the cloud was actually painted on, and not part of the original black & white photo.

Port Swettenham, Klang, Selangor (1957)

Images with local context are invariably more interesting to the local visitor, such as the beautiful reflections in ‘Morning. Taiping Lake Garden, Perak’, and people at work in sunny ‘Port Swettenham, Klang, Selangor’. Ships and coastal areas are evidently close to the Sultan’s heart, some brilliant examples include one stunning capture of coconut ‘Trees. Marang, Terengganu’, a high-contrast portrait of ‘Fisherman with paddle and net’, one junk surrounded by modern ships in Penang Harbour, and a sailboat named kemajuan. The two latter works present signs of modernisation, a theme also featured brilliantly via four photographs on a single display wall, which juxtapose pictures of fishermen on a beach with a land excavation, mending nets with the ‘Sungai Besi Airfield’.

Junk, Penang Harbour (1952)

It appears to be a conscious curatorial decision to show a wide range of photographs, and the presentation – which includes a video of Raja Ihsan trawling through rooms of archival materials – is simple and attractive. However, it is not stated anywhere who came up with the titles of the photographs, and the exact year when prints were developed. Unseen too is the inherent privilege of these vantage points. The Sultan had access to good cameras, as one imagines a number of the exhibits were taken on official visits. He is sometimes flanked by officials, whether the subject matter is a crowd of people (Sungai Tong, Terengganu), or empty streets (‘The Weld during the curfew of 14th May 1969’). If it takes a king to record history for contemporary interpretations, so be it, whatever form that may take.

The Weld during the curfew of 14th May 1969

For a curatorial premise that started as about domestic migrant workers in Hong Kong, “Afterwork” does remarkably well in its Malaysian adaptation, with the inclusion of local artists and relevant programs organised during the exhibition run. For starters, the exhibits are remarkably diverse. Artist nationalities and choice of medium are moot points; Timelines and approaches in tackling the issues explored (“class, race, labour, and migration”) are multifarious, where the starting point of each individual work is worth exploring in depth. The exhibition starts strong – Gan Chin Lee’s social-realist paintings appear to be an exercise in recognizing the people and things overseen when one walks the streets of Kuala Lumpur, a reminder to re-look at one’s immediate surroundings in daily life.

Exhibition snapshot of Gan Chin Lee – Portrait Scape of Contemporary Migration (2013–2014)

Two displays opposite evoke particularly different sentiments via its format and historical contexts. Larry Feign’s 1993 comic strip make light of the situation, when Filipino maids and dogs were banned to use residential lifts in Hong Kong’s luxury condominiums. Next to it, a looping excerpt from Little Cheung 細路祥 (2000) by Fruit Chan 陳果 shows the affection between the 9-year old protagonist and his household helper, which contrasts with the tough love dished out by his parents who run a takeaway restaurant. Entering the main exhibition area, two eye-catching works attract the visitor. Abdoulaye Konaté’s large multi-coloured swathes of worn garments depict (albeit literally) a crushed human figure, while posters and a (edited?) short film by Köken Ergun document entertainment channels for Filipino workers in Israel.

Detail snapshot of Larry Feign – The Ethnic Cleansing of Statue Square (1993)

Given its curatorial theme, the photographic snapshot is expectedly a popular medium. The varied approached among exhibits utilizing this mode, however, dispel clichés of the photograph being a document that emphasizes the Other. From Sebastião Salgado’s forceful act of looking & meaning-making, to Alfredo Jaar’s literal ‘Fading’ of boat people (reports about stranded refugees continue to occupy the news today); Then & now juxtapositions of Hong Kong streets denoting society’s sensibilities at the time of capture, also bringing personal fame to photographers Fan Ho (1950s), and Xyza Cruz Bacani (2010s) respectively; From the sardonic interventions by Sun Yuan & Peng Yu (seeing a hand grenade in a home interior is no laughing matter), to the documented performances of Liliana Angulo and Melati Suryodarmo; How each work relates to work and the worker, is dramatically different and exciting to observe.

Exhibition snapshot of wall displaying photographs by Fan Ho

Looking at Miljohn Ruperto’s homage to a Filipino actress who did not make it in 1940s Hollywood, this pursuit of visible work contrasts significantly with Daniela Ortiz’s collection of pictures from social media. Happy photographs of family & friends include cropped-out domestic helpers, the slideshow effectively depicting invisible work. Expected behaviours are portrayed in a video footage of interviewees practicing pre-set dialogue, while Imelda Cajipe Endaya’s figurative sculpture composed of found objects stand quietly in one corner, ever ready to present itself to the overwhelmed gallery visitor. Non-representational works appear less relevant in this exhibition’s context; the inclusion of vivid abstract paintings by I Gusti Ayu Kadek Murniasih, is probably to satisfy the Malaysian audience who prefers paintings?

Daniela Ortiz – 97 Empleadas Domesticas (97 House Maids) [slideshow from daniela-ortiz.com]

In another awkward presentation, posters decrying violence against women by Taring Padi are displayed lying in an acrylic box, thereby relegating pressing messages into archival documents. Perhaps it belongs together with other exhibits at this end of the gallery, that refer to historical associations of social hierarchy with menial labour. Walking past reproductions of paintings, a curatorial masterstroke takes the form of a small screen looping eight advertisements from Hong Kong, Thailand, and Malaysia. Stereotypes of migrant workers – darker skin, coming from different cultures, but possess a willingness to adapt – are shamelessly portrayed, the videos implying the propagation of a non-colonial master-slave dynamic that has evolved in this part of the world.

Lai Loong Sung – Refugees (1979)

Besides infusing local relevance, the Malaysian works expand upon the exhibition’s curatorial themes too. Lai Loong Sung’s powerful woodcut print ‘Refugees’ project an empathy not present in other works of the same topic. ‘MA=FIL=INDO’ by Pangrok Sulap refers to national histories, but one cannot ignore the affinity (and enmity) between peoples who cohabit in the same seas. Sharon Chin’s ‘Pendatang/Arrivals’ correlates language and migration, and its straw mats offer a welcome entrance into the darkroom screening Taiwanese Jao Chia-En’s sleep-inducing ‘REM Sleep’. The former presented works by local artists in an engaging talk about migrant work (and art), one of many cultural events organised during the exhibition run. One minor regret in this adapted group exhibition, was the non-sale of the Para Site publication Afterwork Readings at the gallery.

Video recording of ‘Pendatang: A Conversation About You, Me, & Other Migrants’ with Sharon Chin, Katrina Jorene Maliamauv & Sze Y Goh, held at ILHAM Gallery on 11 March 2017 [video from ILHAM Gallery YouTube page]

As one who recently got live-in help, works by Gum Cheung Yee Mun and Joyce Lung Yuet Ching prove most captivating. The former illustrates a landscape based on his maid’s recollection of her village; the latter creates porcelain sculptures of household cleaning products, painted with spoken words often used by domestic helpers. The human connection has been established, agency has been quirkily subverted, yet the power dynamic remains. Like Poklong Anading’s ‘Ocular’ which traces the places the artist’s mother – a domestic helper in Hong Kong for 11 years – has gone, “Afterwork” feels like an epic journey, although the individual stops, i.e. works, can be mundane by it selves. “Dim Chung Chung/ Chung Chung Fei/ Sum Fu Cup/ Tau Tai Hei”!

Joyce Lung Yuet Ching – Susan (2016)

In the art canon, artist collectives are often mentioned in reverential tones, and remembered for providing the alternative to established art. This characteristic manifests in the underground location of “Collective: Individuals”, a group exhibition of works from artists belonging in seven collectives. The reasons individual artists gather together are varied – practical concerns of sharing a house, propagating an aesthetic ideal, co-producing a zine, or banding together to form a commercial gallery – but ultimately favourable in maintaining and promoting an artist’s individual agenda. Apart from the relatively formal statements of Make It Happen, the exhibiting collectives do not display overt desires to be similar, which result in a great collection of individual artworks.

Installation snapshot of Nadirah Zakariya - Hitam Manis

Walking through the exhibition – starting with The Sliz’ repurposed road signs, and ending with Orkibal’s pink chair and colourful painting – is a thorough visual delight. The attention-grabbing and vivid displays can be attributed to the show being part of Urbanscapes arts festival, which draws hip youngsters and curious tourists into its quirky space. Metal grills, concrete pillars, narrow walkways, and a vault (!), magnify the sense of discovery. Exhibited works complement the environment, as the miscellany of mediums, themes, and approaches utilized, offer a vibrant survey of artistic forms. Geometric/amorphous shapes, neon/earthy colours, realistic/abstract depictions, singular/modular objects, manipulated/Xeroxed photographs, and even participatory installations. That there are no large nostalgia-tinted paintings, already is refreshing as compared to recent art seen in Malaysian galleries.

Installation snapshot of Tomi Heri – Bujang Senang (2017)

Personal politics and statement-making are still in vogue, however, and works that thread the line between obvious one-liner and obscure symbols, prove most enjoyable. Is Caryn Koh making a prank, an observation, or kooky souvenirs, with her painted eyes? Are the spots on Nadirah Zakariya’s screens and photos, also a heatmap for racist judgements during people interactions? Can Tomi Heri’s “Bujang Senang” signify carefreeness, when its compositions are made up of stencilled geometric patterns? With its marker pen lines on small-squared exercise book sheets, is Foong You Xiang practicing drawing, or doodling his future away? One extreme example of statement-making belongs to the engraved lines by Yew Jun Ken & WAISHUKUN. Does anything make sense, given that the series of artworks is titled “Untitled~Production of Brain Stew Percolator S4+9”?

[from l to r] Yew Jun Ken & WAISHUKUN – Untitled (36); (41); (53); (1-9)

Beyond Instagram-friendly displays, participatory art also takes the form of Blankmalaysia’s ‘Alter’ and Minstrel Kuik’s ‘Artist’s Block’. The latter is part of Run Amok’s installation within the vault, which emphasizes its status as a co-operative (“divide and rule/ Berkerjasama”), but offers too playful interpretations of professional traits expected in artists. Posters of past gallery exhibitions are displayed in one dimly lit room, with a centrepiece that pays tribute to its recently-deceased member Trevor Hampson. Minstrel’s anxiety-ridden declarations in ‘Personal Competencies’ are juxtaposed with Tetriana Ahmad Fauzi’s pictures of stationary fashioned from cucumbers, while metaphorical painting-sculptures by Liew Kwai Fei keep the artists’ rhetoric alive – ‘2B OR NOT 2B (THAT IS THE QUESTION)’ (as black & white jerseys fly away…)

Installation snapshot of gallery space allocated to Run Amok

A paper monument is erected in the middle of a room covered with printouts of Facebook posts about “the World’s tallest mural”, currently undertaken by the five artists who make up Rumah Studio. This projection – and the equally irreverent diorama next door by The Secret Hideout, whom some of Rumah Studio's members are a part of – detracts from attractive individual works on show. Sattama creates charming diptychs pairing flat living room scenes with arcane signboards, its intoxicated figures seemingly enacting a meaningless midnight ritual. ‘Rumah Studio: Aftermath’ by Kangblabla stages a miniature comic version of one house interior (his own?), its varied wooden forms coming alive as a collective whole. At the basement entrance, metal signs by The Sliz recall the creative urgency of Rauschenberg (in a good way), with current messages emblazoned on via painted layers.

Sattama – Anta/Bahya – Empuk Malam (inside/outside – tender of the night) (2017)

It is telling that collaborative artworks are less attractive than individual productions. Studio Mekar founder Haris Rashid states, "...collectives must serve a purpose as a support group, a stepping stone. But ultimately, all artists are individuals." Looking at the steady stream of visitors, I wonder: what types of contemporary art do hipsters like? Walking past hanging pinafores and paintings commenting about hyper-connectivity, some exhibits come off as derivative and naïve. Nonetheless, in an art scene where some artists acquaint themselves more with collectors than with other artists, artists organizing themselves is a productive endeavor. Curator Sharmin Parameswaran speaks about recognizing this "DIY culture", a useful ethos in a country weighed down by patriarchal institutions. Perhaps this should be the reason we celebrate artist collectives, in this country.

Installation snapshots of Kangblabla – Rumah Studio: Aftermath (2017)

After celebrating the opening of a physical space earlier this year, the enterprising Malaysia Design Archive stages an exhibition at Reka Gallery. Objects with distinct elements of graphic design are demarcated into three timeframes – colonial British Malaya, the Japanese Occupation, and from post-WWII to Malayan independence. Looking at product advertisements and public service announcements, I was struck by the vivid red and yellow hues that appear in many exhibits. Were these colours used for printing because it was cheap? Or has its enduring properties render these objects more attractive for exhibiting and preservation purposes? Are cinema billboard paintings – like Mr. Vampire– not peddled as nostalgic collectibles, because painted pigments fade faster than printed colours?

Cinema billboard for Mr. Vampire 新僵尸先生 (1992)

Pixel GIFs by Shika Corona/ Shieko Reto

August, or Month of the Hungry Ghost (of Painting)

Cage of Deliverance @ Wei-Ling Contemporary

MAPPING (IV): PERALIHAN @ NVAG

MAPPING (V): PERALIHAN @ NVAG

Era Mahathir @ ILHAM

ARTAID 16 @ White Box

Dari Langit dan Bumi @ Wei-Ling Contemporary

CROSSINGS: Pushing Boundaries @ Galeri Petronas

Everlasting Love @ Rimbun Dahan

Art KL-itique 2016 Look Back

Snippets: Q4 2016

Singapore Biennale 2016: An Atlas of Mirrors, Jan 2017

Rags to Riches: A Story of Kuala Lumpur @ RUANG by Think City

Of Unlearning and Relearning @ OUR ArtProjects

Bakat Muda Sezaman 2016 @ NVAG

Unveiling The Unseen (1937 – 1971) @ Islamic Arts Museum Malaysia

Afterwork @ ILHAM

Collective: Individuals @ 2 Hang Kasturi

As We See It: History Through Visual Design @ National Art Gallery