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  • Writer: Cristea Zhao
    Cristea Zhao
  • 2 min read


Still from video, "Tarun", photo courtesy of the artist (2020)

Tiyan Baker

Tarun, 2020

Video


Similar to Phu’s work, Tarun is another example of how two dimensions (personal and socio-political) interweaving with each other. The artist went back to her mother’s hometown, living with her maternal family, learning her mother’s mother language Bidayuh and working at her aunt’s plantation. The process of learning is a process of unfolding her mother’s life story of how she grew up in and then left Sarawak- she listened to her mother’s narration through headphones, and then speak out word by word. At first she might faltered, then she became fluent in Bidayuh so the story got to flow in the work.


In the artist statement, this work is ’a reflection on the intergenerational impacts of migration, the discomfort of confronting ones own cultural heritage and the impossibility of crossing cultural divides.’ (https://tiyanbaker.com/projects/tarun-2020) Which remind me of how my old works always wanted to talk about the impossibility of communication and comprehension.

In the interview, she mentioned this discomfort being there mainly came from three prospectives. The shift of the position of church, environmental conservation and her own cultural deficiency. The church which used to existed as a mediation for British colonization and a symbol for dispossession of culture now became an important religious role in local community. Then, even widely in Malaysia, there’s no environmental movements emerging so far, let alone in Sarawak, where today the plastics and harsh chemicals directly go into the river while before they only used materials from the nature (here is where the curator explained there’s no garbage before colonialism).(https://vimeo.com/449544095)


Furthermore, the artist mentioned that she was insured when doing domestic tasks – harvesting durian, working in the padi fields, chopping bamboo and cooking rice in bamboo shoots. The insecurity is resulted from her being culturally deficient as half a white person coming from a white background. Of course understandable, but then I was thinking what’s the intention of this work? What the artist wanted to achieve going back to make such a work?


Immediately, this reminded me of the interview of 2019 Singapore Biennale ‘Every Step in the Right Direction’’s Artistic Director Patrick Flores, he mentioned: ‘I believe that Southeast Asia must be geopolitically unburdened, released from its colonial and Cold War psycho-geography. The contemporary and the curatorial can initiate this redistribution.’ (https://ocula.com/magazine/conversations/patrick-flores/) Indeed, we are still in the post-colonialism era, and we are still dealing with the aftershock from the colonization. But how to develop a new narrative for Southeast Asia, is what the artists and curators need to collectively contribute efforts to. I am not sure if the whole idea of this kind of short-term field research where the participant claims to experience and understand the indigeneity (in this case) on their own terms, but still come back with results that could been speculated through the outside would do anything good to the unburden. This is even tricky when this is part of ‘going back to the root’ as a ‘diaspora’. Obviously, comprehension is not possible, but furthermore, is it true that even trying to comprehend is not possible either?



Jason Phu

Videos for the Grandchildren I’ll Never Have, 2019

Video


I got to know Jason Phu’s work after I just arrived in Australia. Firstly it was his solo commission show in Westspace, ‘My Parents Met at the Fish Market’. In fact, not only at this exhibition but also in his works in general, cooking, food and recipes are often the dominant elements. These non-verbal dimensions of Chinese/Vietnamese culture are important symbols for us to understand his practice. Decoding them, we can get a sense of cultural slippage, cultural heritage, and intergenerational communication and caring etc.

Videos for the Grandchildren I’ll Never Have is some very homemade quality cooking videos editing together with Phu’s parents telling stories or singing in different languages they’re capable of. The content included some personal family stories, love songs, nursery rhymes or folk stories. I didn’t expect I could have such an emotional feedback for this work but truly I did. This is a perfect example of how simple actions and language rather than text itself can have such an infective power over the viewers. The text, or let’s say the meaning of the content doesn’t matter here. It could be substituted with any other narrative forms, but the media that carries it already says what is needed to be said. It reflected and can be decoded into the migration/immigration as an important social phenomenon and then the geopolitical tides in the Asia-Pacific. There’s also a depth of history in this work as it invited us to imagine what our last generation went through, what’s their personal memories, what kind of collective memories they hold? The images of Phu’s parents cooking for the family is an emotive personal touch. That is an act of caring, nutrifing and breeding their next generation.


I found this work very inspiring to my own practice. You don’t need to literally tell a personal story with details to transmit a sense of intimacy. Sometimes a simple action can convey more than that. And when addressing the complexity of what we’re experiencing in the reality, you don’t need to reveal too much with too many components either. The context speaks, what matters is to find a trigger and bury it down.

  • Writer: Cristea Zhao
    Cristea Zhao
  • 2 min read

0100101110101101 (Eva and Franco Mattes)

No Fun, 2010

Online performance, video documentation


0100101110101101 (Eva and Franco Mattes)

Installation View of No Fun

“Anonymous, untitled, dimensions variable”, 2012

London


This is a troubling work challenges the comfort of personal space through a webcam, examining the social distance (not social distancing) between two people in the internet age.

Anonymous online chatting room like Chatroulette was quite fashionable in early 2010s. At least it was prevalent enough for a Chinese junior high student (me) skillfully exchanging ‘ASL’(age/sex/location) with some strangers in some other corner of the world. Here in a platform where people hand out certain level of intimacy in exchange of the same back, the viewers are forced to confront death, which is fully unexpected in such setting. The question is raised: to what extend the social relation is being reframed between screen and screen?


The virtual and the real, the fake and the authentic well balanced with each other and constituted this work. The performance is carefully forged to put the participators in a bothering intimacy and convince them they’re now facing a real ethical situation. Beyond bearing the unease, automatically, the viewers became voyeurs. Each web cam pointing at each participator him-/herself functioned as a mirror reflecting him-/herself as a voyeur, directly participate into the work. This voyeurism touch in the work made the tone even more brutal and spooky.

Some of my works engaged with how new dynamic and discrimination emerged in intergenerational relations as a spillover of modern technologies (Mother is a Container). The form and content of this work both contribute to my reflection as in how I can push the performance further, bridge the gap between the real and the virtual, the fake and the authentic and even integrate the modern technology I was trying to discuss into my work.

Furthermore, this work has its value in out current situation:


The time we spend communing online is having more immediate costs, too: like the Chatroulette users in No Fun, we’re becoming uncomfortably intimate with loss, and even death, through our screens—but this time, it’s real. Sitting alone, together, we’re suffering our own misfortunes while also bearing remote witness to interrupted relationships, stalled careers, ruined finances, and the demise of thousands of people, from distant loved ones to total strangers. After this is all over, those of us left will have to recalibrate the ratio of our online and offline lives, which will require rethinking the meaning and value of the closeness—and the distance—afforded by modern technologies. (https://www.artforum.com/slant/tina-rivers-ryan-on-learning-from-net-art-in-the-age-of-covid-19-82622)

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