Sing Biennale

"Life beats down and crushes the soul and art reminds you that you have one."

~Stella Adler

In search of a much needed reprieve I spend a weekend in Singapore, taking in their second Biennale. It was an impressive exhibition of, largely, installation art from around the world.

I managed to sneak in on the press junket. All the venues were free and I was the only passenger on the complimentary shuttle bus between venues. Maybe it was my notebook, maybe it was just my foreign face, but nobody asked to see my press pass at any of the sites. I got the benefit of  eavesdropping on the curators I found interesting without the hassle of being herded around by PR people. Singaporeans are accustomed to following rigid rules and are sticklers for order so I felt a bit like I'd staged a coup.

It's been so long since I've been confronted with uninhibited creativity, every work was a thrill for me. From the first piece I would determine that this was my favourite until I'd moved on and then that piece, yes, that piece was most definitely my favourite.  I still don't know which one would be, were I forced to choose, but I do know the Merlion Hotel was gravely over-hyped.

At a cost of nearly half a million Sing Dollars (SD) and approximately a month to build, the luxury hotel suite constructed around Singapore's most notorious landmark, the Merlion (yes, it's a fish with a fierce lion head) this installation was completely lost on me. I understood the marketing value of the gimmick for the luxury hotel that provided room service for the guests who paid a remarkably low rate of $150 nett per night for the privilege of sharing a bed with the beast (comparatively, a private room at a hostel costs about $70 SD, a night at a mid range hotel will set you back anywhere from $150-180 SD) but, if the artist was making trying to make a statement, or sharing a vision, it was lost on me. The only impression it left upon me was one of an architectural vanity whose 8 week existence was an environmentally wasteful atrocity.

Fortunately there were hundreds of other works that impressed me as witty, funny, beautiful and/or thought provoking. Among the most memorable was a twenty minute short film by Danish collective "Superflex" which so perfectly evokes the often devastating social, environmental and economic impact of our Coca-cola culture while forcing you to witness the absurdity of it all. I mean try not to laugh as an almost Christ like Ronald McDonald is toppled by waves, in a way not unreminiscent of the toppling of Hussein's statue in the early days of Iraq and pictures from the fall of communism in Eastern Europe.

There were also the breathtaking tapestries by Chinese artists Shao Yinong and Mu Chen. Each of the large scale replications of obsolete bank notes, eight in all, took four months to complete. striking in their detail, they seemed the perfect reminder, as if we needed one in our current economic crisis, of the ephemeral and shifting nature of seemingly absolute economies and social structures. While Stalin was undoubtedly my favourite for sheer iconic irony, the intricate subtleties of a Prussian note as well as some of the Chinese notes were stunning.

Equally memorable was the engaging installation by the Indonesian collective "ruangrupa" who spent two months in Singapore collecting objects to create artifactual museums for fictional characters whose stories were at turns whimsical, hilarious, shocking and heartbreaking.

I had to take a break for my afternoon glass of wine, before continuing on to some art house films that reminded me of Cinematheque. I feel a bit sheepish admitting I took a nap but I'd been up since 4 am so I can't say I'm ashamed, but I woke up in time for a melancholy work documenting Singapore landmarks. A narrator, as though reading community obituaries, recounts the final moments of people who have died at these familiar places. Simultaneously touching and disturbing, this piece irrevocably changed how I thought of the city itself, but also how I view our impact on the spaces in the world as we move through it.

It was not the Biennale exhibits that stole the day for me though, but rather a concurrent exhibition at the Singapore Art Museum titled: Negotiating home History and Nation: Two Decades of contemporary Art in South East Asia (1991-2011):

 Nothing more than an optical illusion Briccio Santos' "Heritage Tunnel" excited the bibliophile in me. At the center of this piece is the "I Ching" which played a recurring role in my weekend. This is actually a six foot high tubular bookshelf with mirrors installed at the top and bottom, giving all the knowledge contained on the shelves the impression of being infinite.

At once shocking and heartbreaking Vasa Sitthiket's piece titled "Committing Suicide Culture: The Only Way Thai Farmers Escape Debt" embodies completely what I value most in art. Political and social commentary but also the artists role as a completely biased historian unwilling to obscure the records with clinical facts and figures.

Stumbling into these in the stairwell I was simultaneously delighted by the whimsy and disturbed by these futuristic hybrids of Teletubbies and Flying Monkeys ala "Wizard of Oz".

I was completely mesmerized by Suzann Victor's work with motion, light and sound. There was a much larger work by her on display in the atrium of the National Museum.

Unfortunately I didn't get any pictures of one of my favourite exhibits of Thai artists. There was an entire room with stunning photography on the walls. There were also rows of old wooden school desks. In a work of genius interactive art titled "History Class" Thai artist Sutee Kunavichayanont has carved scenes from Thai history into the desks and provided paper and pencils so you can take the images home in the form of a pencil rubbing.

By the time the museum closed and kicked me to the curb, dusk was settling in and I was mentally and physically exhausted. My mind was spinning with concepts and ideas but my soul only sighed, "Sated."