Thursday, 31 July 2014

journal | Curating as Violence, Exhibition as Trauma

by Raksha Mahtani


Curating Lab has been a long and luxurious dive into the depths of art producing and exhibition making. Throughout we have been asked to question the negotiable concepts of curating and curator, artist and object, meaning and knowledge construction. Yet there are some threads that have ripped into our lives and changed the way we look at objects forever. 

I am nagged by this constant reminder that the life of an object outlasts our persons, relationships, structures--that this obsession with debris and detritus, of documentation and proof, of intertext and reference point, is as it is so outmoded in consumerist society where material is expendable, replaceable. 

We are, as baby curators, constantly motivated to explain ourselves, our interests, our viewpoints. As curators, we are told, we must develop cohesive and directed tastes, just as the construction of 'self' in capitalism, to consistently textualise ourselves via reflection, tweet, status update, in order for us to be readable, understood, relatable. We stand up, introduce ourselves time and again, finding reiterations of the words and signifiers we used the last time. 

We learnt that to this constructed curator 'self', a notion of agency or independence is intrinsic. If we outsource ideology to the higher-ups, or delegate exhibition design to museum professionals, we lose so much of the curatorial, the space in which to negotiate both. Dialogue, dialogue, dialogue--a mantra that we repeat--every thing is constantly in dialogue with one another, being read next to each other, building relationships via OKCupid with one another, and like synaesthetes, we cannot ignore and compartmentalise, or we lose vital pantones and landscapes with which meaning is made. 

However, since the first day of our immersion, I am still plagued by a strange feeling that I have been unable to pin down entirely. Something remains unsaid, some pressure resistant to language. Perhaps it is the discomfort with art being overly ‘moralistic’. Perhaps it is a vagueness and openness that I cannot reconcile with my own framework or understanding of violence, perhaps an unapologetic hedonism that I find so removed and detached from the real, or the simulation of the politics and material deprivation and suffering of people in our own country, let alone around the world. Perhaps this is a successful displacement of moral responsibility from the state to the concerned citizen—after all, why should I care about these things more than the beauty of an object, the transformative power of single stroke of paint, the haunting aural environ that replicates our deepest memories?


Moreover, how does trauma play into art—and how much do we acknowledge its existence within it and our readings of it? How can curating become violent in its ‘necessary’ treatment, contextualising, reading (singular or otherwise) of artwork? And to what extent can we curate ‘difficult knowledge’ as it is called, collective remembering through an exhibition, a way of wandering, a space to negotiate violence? In overtly prioritising certain types of exhibitions, in arguing that practice is independent of context, that it should not capitulate to topical or populist concerns, we may be deprioritising the effect of these concerns from within the vat in which our processes ferment.
 

I know the artist is not necessarily ascetic. The artwork need not be read only as pure practice, and a reading of political motivations does not negate the legitimacy of other readings. The death of the artist (á la Barthes) reminds us that material and interpretation is always contested. I still mull over this, as I read further to sophisticate my thoughts. But I can hazard a guess at a few things we’ve learnt...
 
There are still some texts that are inaccessible.

Metamorphosis, Xu Bing, It Begins With Metamorphosis: Xu Bing, Asia Society, Hong Kong, 2014. 

Spring Workshop, Hong Kong, 2014.
Exhibition happens everywhere. We must be exhibitionists at heart.  


10 Million Rooms of Yearning, Para Site, Hong Kong, 2014.
We change our names to fit the fetish of every future lover; we perform all selves.

Tuesday, 29 July 2014

journal | On Exhibition-making and Its Dilemmas

by Selene Yap
“Why does a subject need an exhibition? Why can’t it be addressed or tackled in other ways?” Cosmin Costinas, executive director and curator of Para Site asked us after an afternoon of hefty introductions to the space. Bound by the conditions of what he termed "professional responsibility”, the question became a curatorial exigency that descended upon us.
Cosmin Costinas, Executive Director/ Curator, Para Site, Hong Kong
Back in Singapore, the question clung to me as we spent much of the last month forming our thoughts on the staging of knowledge.  As exhibitions become symbolic platforms for the filling of gaps in interdisciplinary discussions of societal issues, and as artists and curators attempt to articulate tropes emerging from local moments of investigation, industry practitioners have been careful in avoiding curating/exhibition-making tendencies that may be perceived as “esoteric and self-centred [or] ‘insensitive’ toward real public interest”. [1]
While reading through the preparatory readings assigned to us by our mentors, I stumbled upon Poor Theory: Notes Toward a Manifesto, which, interestingly, reads like a prescriptive note on curatorial strategies.  The manifesto nobly declares:
Poor theory reflexively re-encounters the history of theory through paying attention to the murky, unsystematic practices and discourses of everyday life…it takes seriously the possibility that fascination can be turned into a critical method...[and] engages with political economies and epistemic shifts, with historical arcs and ruptures, with new directions and enduring legacies, but, more experimentally, it sits among the insistent desiring practices, obscure forms of address, and tangential intimacies of a changing transnational landscape. [2]
Taken in the context of contemporary art practice in Asia, where there is much “abundance in what is commonly labelled poor” [3] – where socio-political histories or vernaculars are deeply embedded in artworks and materials, and art practices are telling of prior and continuing formations of the national, the colonial, the imperial and the postcolonial – Cosmin’s question becomes especially pertinent.
But while one can get carried away in forming exhibition strategies to open up conversations pertaining to the region (syncretism, diaspora, migration, transnationalism, geographies and the list goes on), it is perhaps useful to bear in mind that projects of critical inquiry into the ‘poor’ are not only of disclosure but also of enclosure [4]. And in the case of exhibition-making, it is the enclosure as aestheticization, or “to give intelligibility, form, and permanence to things that are otherwise distant, murky, and fleeting” [5] that can be hazardous.

While artists and curators have the autonomy in the staging of art as a non-frontal way of bringing subjects into question, this knowledge of and power over any given domain is both facilitated by and productive of various forms of enclosure. In propositioning content, we run the risk of asserting a truth-value onto the subaltern.

Given the abundance of antagonisms in the region, how can curators navigate the telling of certain narratives without foreclosing others? Is that even possible?

[1] Godfrey, T. (2011). Ethics and Politics of Curating in Southeast Asia: A Discussion ‘Curated’ by Tony Godfrey. Broadsheet: Contemporary Visual Art and Culture, 40.1, 60 – 65.
[2] Abbas, A. (2008). Poor Theory: Notes Toward a Manifesto. Critical Theory Institute. Retrieved from https://www.humanities.uci.edu/critical/poortheory.pdf
[3] Ibid.
[4] Kockelman, P. (2007). Enclosure and Disclosure. Public Culture, 19(2). Retrieved fromhttp://www.columbia.edu/~pk2113/Article%20PDFs/Enclosure%20and%20Disclosure.pdf
[5] Ibid.

Friday, 25 July 2014

post.scripting | The Artist is ? : Shubigi Rao

About post.scripting
post.scripting is a blog series that transposes the question from Curating Lab’s Public Symposium “Where Does an Exhibition Begin and End?” to an online platform. It asks, “Where Does a Conversation Begin and End?”. It seeks to expand upon questions around curation and art brought up during the Public Symposium, examining the ideas behind words and the philosophies beyond thoughts.

About "When Does An Exhibition Begin and End?" 
Part of the Curatorial-Intensive, the public symposium "When Does An Exhibition Begin and End?"presented Curating Lab 2014 participants with an opportunity to reflect on the role of a symposium and its public within curatorial practice. Building on lectures and workshops with facilitators Max Andrews and Mariana Cánepa Luna from Barcelona-based curatorial office Latitudes as well as artist, curator and writer Heman Chong, participants engaged with the symposium by live-tweeting proceedings, mapping concepts of the discussions, and devising approaches such as blogging to document and report the day for those not physically present.

In response, participants Luca Lum, Chua Ying Qing and Raksha Mahtani conceived the blog series,  post.scripting, featuring in-depth interviews with the artists and curators involved in the symposium.

--

In this week’s post.scripting interview, our interviewers leave earth behind. They talk to visual artist and writer Shubigi Rao through the pixellated world of email correspondence.

Shubigis interests range from archaeology, neuroscience, 13th century ‘science, language, libraries, historical acts of cultural genocide, contemporary art theory and natural history. Her work involves complex layered installations comprising handmade books, text, drawings, etchings, pseudo-science machinery and archives, and has been exhibited and collected in Singapore, Indonesia, Iran, Hong Kong, China, the Netherlands and India. Shubigi is perhaps most well known for her works documenting the findings of the late S. Raoul, which tread the boundaries of fact and fiction.

She recently exhibited her lecture-performance, Visual Snow, at The Disappearance in 2014 at the Centre for Contemporary Art, Singapore. Some of her notable exhibitions include the solo The Retrospectacle of S. Raoul (2013), group shows Still Building (2012), Beyond LKY (2010), Found and Lost (2009), The Tuning Fork of the Mind (2008).

She currently lectures part-time in Art Theory at LASALLE College of the Arts, Singapore. (excerpts taken from artists website)

During the Public Symposium, Shubigi restaged a version of her lecture-performance Visual Snow, where she tackled the symptoms of museum fatigue, over-exposure to video art, and the trauma of post-exhibition ‘tear-down.

--

>> Dear Shubigi,

Hello! We are reporting on the Public Symposium for Curating Lab 2014. We would like to ask you both a couple of questions on your work, specifically, Visual Snow, and some things in regards to S. Raoul.

Please contact us if some questions seem vague or opaque, or otherwise feel free to interpret them however you will. Feel free to engage with them by asking more questions, and we can pass the ball back and forth and perhaps forward the conversation.

Regards,
Luca, Raksha, and Ying Qing (Curating Lab)


Dear Luca, Raksha, and Ying Qing,

As you know, S. Raoul is a posthumous figure, so it leaves me with the dubious pleasure of having to speak on his behalf, but since I was his biographer, protege and unpaid lab rat, with exclusive access to his materials and by extension his mind, it shouldn't be too hard to speak for him.

Supposed picture of S.R, artist’s studio (date unknown) 
>>CL: You talked about how the role of biographers is very similar to that of curators.  What is the relationship between art and curation? How does the curatorial feature in your work? More specifically, how does your work interrogate/mobilize/play off the curatorial as a mode or form?

S. Raoul saw curating as being akin to literary biographies, and even wrote a monograph on the subject, Bastardising Biography: An Extraordinary Initiative. He tended to be very critical of uncritical retrospectives with fraudulent theoretical understructures, which he dismissed as glorified 'literary gossip', where talking points and milestones were generated in hindsight. He was, as you can imagine, a difficult man.

It was therefore with a certain vindictive joy that I curated a retrospective of his work over the last decade, The Retrospectacle of S. Raoul (2013), and even authored a speculative biography of him. To answer your question, yes, the nature of curation has been of absorbing interest to us, whether it involved the examples above, or examining the precinct of the gallery bookshop in No Cover No Colour (2006) with its curated selections of one-off exhibition catalogues interspersed with critical texts and more definitive' anthologies. We both saw the curated group show as analogous to the unseen taxonomies at play in a compendium, say, like Vitamin D.


>> CL: How did you come about working with the infamous S. Raoul? Could you elaborate on your choice of a male alias modelled after a photo of yourself in (for want of a better word) drag?

He's a paper tiger really, a de-gendered, de-ethnicised me with a paper moustache, cocking a snook at the ridiculous assumptions made about female authorship, authenticity and the feminine nature of certain forms of art-making. For example, even in densely scientific endeavours, there are poignant hints of loss in S. Raoul's life, that have been lauded as being the hallmarks of a flawed, tragic and poetic character, yet have been dismissed as 'romantic' and feminine when presented under my name.

In another example, I was once referred to as the 'girl who plagiarised S. Raoul' when 3 books authored by him were displayed in SAM under my name. There is this ridiculous and wholly arbitrary assumption of how men make art, and I wanted to free the work from that ridiculous assumption, from the myth of the artist persona, for which a completely ridiculous and fictitious persona has worked very well. I have been the booth girl explaining S. Raoul's pseudo-neuroscientific work, The Tuning Fork of the Mind, to a Nobel Laureate in the field, and watching it get accepted fairly uncritically because it was authored by a dead white (?) male and presented by a young (at the time) female protege.

>> CL: In your presentation, Visual Snow, you mentioned that very often documentation supercedes the experience. How is the failure of memory mitigated by efforts at documentation process?

They are desperate attempts to impose order, when the disorder of the choices made (what is remembered, what is not) is perhaps of more note. You can see the wistful, subjective nature of such documentation more clearly (albeit in very low resolution) on display in the image I've attached here, where a book stolen from River of Ink at an opening was never documented, so the sole record of its existence is present here in a futile attempt to reconstruct the content from entropic memory. Even an eidetic reconstruction would fail, for the book is not just that content. The documentation includes the theft, the loss, the inability to accept that loss. So yes, the documentation is as much a reminder and commemoration of that failure.

Additionally, all documentation, textual or pictorial, has huge gaps which too allow for a sort of delicious incomprehensibility.

Mnemonic Reconstruction of The Printed Page*
*If the image appears vague, opaque, and pixellated, you may be suffering the effects of Visual Snow
>> CL: How do you think suffering from the symptoms of ‘Visual Snowhave affected your ability to diagnose your own ‘Visual Snow? (Do you end up in an endless cycle of unknowing? Solipsism? Fictions?)

I'm afraid that I don't know what you're implying here. Luckily I'm constrained by a non-disclosure agreement as part of an ongoing lawsuit and therefore unable to address your question, on the record at least.

>> CL: Could you diagnose us? What sort of strain of ‘Visual Snowdo curators - or
prospective curators - suffer from? What are some strategies to mitigate these occupational hazards and traumas that result from curating, from attempting to narrativise, to craft a message, to make things understandable?

Prospective curators are most susceptible, as in their eagerness they have all channels open, so to speak, and are subject to more exposure than the jaded and therefore inured curator.

There are numerous occupational hazards here, like the inability to string a comprehensible sentence post-exposure, and a tendency to stay true to one's mentoring with isolated brief, brave forays of one's own to maintain the illusion of autonomous thought without really rocking the curatorial boat.

To quote S. Raoul, "Notable symptoms include the paradoxical yearning for a intangible, enduring work, a substantial gesture, a temporal performance that doesnt end, a distaste for jargon yet a continuing fidelity to it, and perhaps worst of all, where they begin to imagine art when none exists”.

Strategies include allowing your eyes to glaze over (the body's natural barrier to the contagion of overexposure), especially when faced with 'senior' curators holding forth, and refraining from nodding eagerly, as this directional movement of the cervical vertebrae increases cranial blood flow, an unwitting transportation device for hyper-aggressive drivel, ponderous declamatory positions and other forms of exposure. You should also take everything with a pinch of salt, as it is a belief widely accepted to be true that salt can ward off the evils of vampiric over-intellectualism and pretend-objectivity. It may give you hope to know that experiments involving the application of salt to the leeches of the art world have been astoundingly successful.

As for making things understandable, that should not be your role beyond the necessary unpacking of that peculiar phenomenon - the artist's intention. The need to comprehend lies squarely with the viewer/reader/listener, for as we have been told, the Death of the Author = the Birth of the Reader, and this should liberate you from the need to pander, spoonfeed, or otherwise 'make things understandable'.

I hope this has been of some use to you, and to those on whose behalf you emailed me. Do let me know if you'd like additional materials, or have further questions. A useful text for furthering your state of befuddlement would be History's Malcontents: the life and times of S. Raoul, available at ICAS, Lasalle. Alternatively I can send you a preposterously large pdf of the book, if you think it will be of any use. Bastardising Biography is unfortunately out of print, but I can provide a copy for you when I get back to Singapore in early August.

With warmth,
Shubigi



Wednesday, 23 July 2014

journal | Luxuriating in the Algorhythmic / Luxuriating in the Acceleration

by Kenneth Loe

Curatorial Intensive | Luxuriating in the Algorhythmic 

It happens in the sudden transition from 9g to -4g” – Hito Steyerl: Junktime

@LTTDS  
amanda (anthropomorphic hurricane,
cousin of boris and cristina)
aka an annual festival,
event based
dense population
defined infrastructure – museums, universities, contemp. art centres
specific block of time
organised, extended presentation
strong corporate and media culture

POWER // (dis)ENGAGE
Who’s on (the) board?
city council
civil society
property developers – nosaj thing as 
ethical PDs?
vis-à-vis curatorial notions of independence
autonomy

a mandate?
5 week contemporary art festival
6 alternative & overlooked spaces

invisible         inaccessible
- - - UNSEEN - - -            
transient                           
identities                          ephemera
shadowed         
who we stand for:

UNPICKING THE SEAMS OF A SUPER ARTY MUSEUM
 @WeAreBUSYBodies couldn’t help
pulling on loose threads and
looser laurels,
pulling out the rug from
under all that media
like Medea at large.
NO COUNTRY
FOR THE 1% MUSEUM?
 “Sleep tate! Don’t let the momas bite!” - @internetraksha

“Are your teeth on twitter yet?” – Hito Steyerl: Junktime

“A day of lip-stick stained coffee cups.” – Heman Chong, Image: Heman Chong

@lactasered typing frantically like a polaroid picture on speed - caffeinated cacophony of “fastest fingers first” meets coordinated “digital dandruff”, “confetti (imploding) in the brain” as minds are mapped at the back of the possibility room, an undertaking of near-impossibility mirrored by the act of instant archeology, of drilling nails on keybored.

“Shubigi: Documentation will always superced (sic) experience.” - @HemanChong
“Documentation will supercede experience.” - @ongxbern


Overseas Field Trip | Luxuriating in the Acceleration 

Spring Workshop. Image: Kenneth Loe
Spring time for flâneur and liminality 
Sweet summer nights and stripped to thy sheets, weaving through nooks and crannies of 
rooms under staircases yearning to be sexed
to the tune of Spiderman, Spiderman,
does whatever a spider can.
“What do you do for a living?”
“I’m a web designer.”

 
Screenshots of Hito Steyerl’s Lovely Andrea at Connecting Space, “Ten Million Rooms of Yearning” exhibition by Para Site. Image: Kenneth Loe

Material, material, woe unto thee.
So little time, so much to do,
I’d rather just run my fingers through you
And feel the weight of the archive,
the “constellation of accumulative platforms”
On my shoulders.

A selection of material that I ran my fingers through (read too of course!) at Asia Art Archive.
Image: Kenneth Loe

William Lim
Open
You (you)
“really damn awesome collection!!!” - @lactasered

Nadim Abbas’s Cataract at OpenUU. Image: Kenneth Loe
Lying on one of the pillows from Lee Kit’s My pillow seems like a bed, a pillow seems like my bed. with @internetraksha (on the right) at OpenUU. Image: Kenneth Loe
As the flâneur heads back to Spring
For one final toast…

“Aaaaand that marks the end of #curatinglab2014 field trip to HAHNG KAHNG! MMMGOISAILEI everyone” - @seleneysh. Image: Selene Yap
He stops in front of a mirror
and his reflection is sliced into half
in that moment of unadulterated acceleration.

“always a reflective bunch” - @charcharcheng. Image: Cheng Jia Yun

Monday, 21 July 2014

journal | Questions we can ask

by Bernice Ong

After every discussion during the curatorial-intensive, and during our field trip in Hong Kong, our facilitator Heman will quite predictably yell out “Any questions!” Even recently on our Facebook group, he charged us with a task.

Here's a small thing I want all the participants of Curating Lab 2014 to contribute. Within 24 hours of reading this, please write down ONE question you would like to discuss about curating and post it here. Thanks! I just want to hear your thoughts about things at this point to see where I can enter to help out. Thanks! Please post! Keep it precise! [1]

To put it literally, metaphorically, technically, the silence has been deafening. (Ok, well there have been some.)

Questions we can ask:

Who am I
Why are we here
Why am I here
What are they saying
What is being said
Why do they say this
Who is she
Who is he
How do I spell this
Well, it reminds me of that
What is his name
Who will they have me with
How shall we do this
How can we do this
Where can we find this
Lets talk about that
More about this
Where do we go from here
Where are we
What do you know
What shall we say
What more can we say
Is this ok.

I am reading an article on Durational Performance by Forced Entertainment, which hinges on the performative structure of the event as being a task or a game. In Quizoola!, a six-hour performance in which three people alternate between sitting within a ring of bare electric bulbs and are grilled using a catalogue of about 2000 questions, the audience come and go as and when they please. [2] FE speaks of the event as being about “the nature of language, and how it can, or cannot, describe or define or deal with the truth of our lives.” [3] This fluidity and contingency of knowledge in its very creation and re-generation brings to mind several other things. Advanced Studies… (Ten Lessons in Life) is a work by Heman that relies on students to take on the role of the teacher. Ten 16-year-olds separately pick apart gargantuan topics and attempt to convey this knowledge to a willing audience. More than about gauging informational correctness, the work also flourished with every attempt and failure at advising on such complexities.

The process of living is constituted by an unending list of questions, the ebb-and-flow of various understandings, and changing narratives. As we go about the several phases of Curating Lab, it becomes increasingly clear to me that the curation of anything has to allow for an open-endedness framed by certain topical guiding lines. Outside of any context, this open-endedness too disappears into a puff of smoke! It is a game we play as we attempt to list the rules abiding by our own logic, but also almost hoping that someone will hack our gem of a system to throw up new possibilities. And so as we plough along towards our exhibition in 2015, it has become more urgent to gather what these questions are that we want to be asking.

As of yet, I too feel guilty about my lack of a definitive question. But perhaps, there is something else to be gained from looking at the gap we want so dearly to be filled, a gap that was created from the moment of inquiry. As a curator, what are the questions we want to be asking? How will we ask it?

In the same flow of things, I am piqued by the absence of Kim Lim in many of our discourses around Singaporean artists. And if one might add, in general, the absence or rarity of material surrounding Singaporean artists in our local libraries, which the visit to the Asia Art Archive in Hong Kong highlighted our lack thereof. I am reminded also that the topic of knowledge production is a focus of this year’s programme. Perhaps, another way to think about it is to consider ‘gap’ production as equally useful. I’d like to make these gaps apparent. Let’s dive further into that.

 Recap in pictures to follow, I will leave the captions to you.

I wish to thank Heman and Latitudes (Max and Mariana) for their stories and conversations, and NUS Museum (Michelle and Flora) for their making the programme possible!



[1] https://www.facebook.com/groups/curatinglab2014/ (Secret group), accessed 14 July 2014.
[2] A. Heathfield (ed.), Live: Art and Performance, Tate Publishing, London, 2012, p.101.
[3] Ibid.

Wednesday, 16 July 2014

IN PROGRESS | phase 2. Internship

Two weeks ago, the second phase of the programme began as Curating Lab participants began month-long industry immersions at one of three participating institutions. Apart from gaining an overview of the activities and practice of an contemporary art institution, participants have also been involved heavily in upcoming institutional projects as well as working on their own final exhibition projects under the guidance of institutional mentors.

At NUS Museum, Luca Lum, Chua Ying Qing and Raksha Mahtani have been working on forthcoming exhibitions in 2015 including the conception of publications and public programmes. In particular, they have undertaken research into possible 'passwords' that would guide as well as gather the year's exhibitions through more collective frames.

The National Arts Council team of Selene Yap, Euginia Tan, Cheng Jia Yun and Wong Yeang Cherng divide their time between interning with the Venice Biennale Secretariat and intense research for SEABOOK that sees them working closely with artist Charles Lim, curator Shabbir Hussain Mustafa and librarian Janice Loo.

Over at the Centre for Contemporary Art, Singapore, interns Kenneth Loe, Melvin Tan, Bernice Ong and Samantha Yap have been intensively involved in Theatrical Fields, an exhibition opening August 22, More than [show] business, the collaboration between CCA and Post-Museum, as well as the institution's new artist residency programme. Their responsibilities range from exhibition design and installation, to public programming and publications, to research as well as day-to-day operations.

With another two weeks to go, track these projects and the interns' progress via Storify:

Monday, 14 July 2014

phase 1b. Overseas Field Trip

Immediately after a rigorous introduction to the programme the week before, Curating Lab participants were whisked off to Hong Kong on 16 June 2014 for a 5-day Overseas Field Trip.

Aiming to provide exposure to international curatorial practices, the trip involved visits to independent art spaces such as Spring Workshop, Para Site, Pekin Fine Arts and William Lim's collection at openUU as well as talks by curators and industry practitioners of wide-ranging practice such as Mimi Brown, founder of Spring Workshop, Para Site curators Cosmin Costinas and Lim Qinyi, and Pauline Yao and Aric Chen, both curators at M+.

Extending on their efforts during the Curatorial-Intensive, they also had the opportunity to conduct an afternoon of exhibition research at Asia Art Archive, following introductions and discussions with Claire Hsu, Chantal Wong and Hammad Nasar.

Programme facilitators Heman Chong, Max Andrews and Mariana Canepa Luna as well as programme mentor and NUS Museum assistant curator Kenneth Tay were also on hand to constantly engage participants in intense discussions and critical reflection.

"I am most appreciative that the programme highlighted the curatorial strategies and trends local to Hong Kong...it has offered me substantial insight into the problems, challenges, and most definitely, the tailored solutions to curating spaces within a land scarce country, much like Singapore."
Wong Yeang Cherng, participant

 "It was very valuable to have heard from a range of voices and seen different typologies of institutions, how they are programmed, funded and run on a daily basis and also in the long-term."
Max Andrews and Mariana Canepa Luna, programme facilitators

Overseas Field Trip | in photos
 

Throughout the trip, participants and facilitators reflected on their experiences and continued their reflections and discussions on-the-go through social media; follow their conversations here: