After hiking up the (supposedly) gentle slope at Gillman Barracks in Singapore’s sweltering heat and then up the central staircase of Block 9 — I recommend starting at the left-side entrance pictured below — we arrive at ShanghART Singapore. Stepping inside the gallery, we are greeted by a hallway of framed images of animals and plants with reports attached to them on the walls, and a display case featuring three specimens of bugs that resemble leaves.
Navigating deeper into the gallery, we arrive at a bigger room containing more images and reports on flora and fauna, specimen tables, and books occupying the walls, tables, shelves, and even floor. It does not resemble a usual art gallery. It feels more like a sort of laboratory, study, or incubation space of an ecological researcher.
These are the works of Robert Zhao Renhui, a well-known name in the contemporary art world of Singapore and the region. In his practice, Zhao — who represented Singapore at the 60th Venice Biennale this year — primarily takes on themes such as the relationship between humans and nature, and the changes time inflicts upon landscapes.
Through Evidence of Things Not Seen: an investigation into Robert Zhao’s artistic practice at ShanghART Singapore, we get the exclusive and invaluable opportunity to view (almost) the entirety of Zhao’s journey as a professional artist, gaining perspective on how themes and concepts can evolve across an artist’s practice. In particular, the distinguishing quality of Zhao’s works is his investigative approach towards art, expressed in an unrelenting curiosity about ecological topics as well as the use of academic research techniques.
Asking questions and conducting research
“The role of the artist is to ask questions, not answer them.” — Anton Chekhov
At first glance, the domains of research (rigorous and detached) and art (expressive and subjective) might seem quite unconnected. But researchers raise questions, catalyse discussions, acknowledge gaps in knowledge, and propose future developments for their fields. And, as Chekhov’s words suggest, artists also question and challenge things that are taken for granted, and — whether intentionally or not — prod audiences towards having tricky conversations and reevaluating long-held beliefs.
Using art to understand events and experiences, artists, like scientists, make meaning of the world around them — in the process, uncovering hidden truths and disproving what we think we “know.” While all artists have their own idiosyncratic methods and approaches, are they not researchers too?
Zhao has quite literally used academic fieldwork and research techniques in his works. In his Singapore, Very Old Tree (2015) series, he interviewed 30 people to uncover stories of trees around Singapore, and produced a series of photos of these people with the trees to which their stories are tied. Interviewing subjects is a common research technique, especially in the humanities, where researchers study intangible heritage and take oral histories. Through this project, Zhao not only creates a visual representation of these stories, but also preserves these slowly vanishing tales for posterity. (In Evidence of Things Not Seen, the postcard set is on display, while the large prints may be seen in a permanent exhibition at the National Museum of Singapore.)
In his other works, Zhao adopts similarly systematic approaches to various themes and phenomena, exemplifying how creatives can draw inspiration from the rigorous methods of academia. The cycle of asking, answering, and asking more questions can help artists investigate ideas and develop creative concepts. And when we feel lost, we can simply try returning to the drawing board to pick a question or gap that we haven’t looked at before.
Be curious and diversify
After fawning over a small model of the familiar myna on a longish table, I found myself in front of a table with books stacked and arranged on it, with a computer at one end. (It almost resembled the library table where I spent my days working through books and resources for my Art History papers in university.) Each publication on display provided another perspective and discussion by Zhao, and sometimes his collaborators. This table acts as a condensed record of Zhao’s curiosity and what his works elsewhere in the gallery seek to map out.
As you explore the rest of the exhibition, you’ll find insect-like creatures resembling leaves from The Great Pretenders (2009), a range of produce and animals against pastel backgrounds from A Guide to the Flora and Fauna of the World (2013), wild boars, snakes, birds, trees … the list continues.
Evidence of Things Not Seen pulls from ShanghART’s storage and repository of Zhao’s works through his almost 20-year artistic practice. Immediately upon entry to the gallery, the world Zhao has crafted stands out for its impressive range of materials and forms. While primarily working in photography, Zhao complements and enlivens his images with interesting display formats and paraphernalia. He has created an oeuvre wonderfully rich with material, where his artistic obsession with ecology extends in diverse directions. Through such exploration, he gains insights that he may not have chanced upon if he had only exclusively worked in a single medium.
My art teacher Mr. Chia often tells us that “concept is the hardest thing to teach — it’s the hardest part of making art.” But when we get stuck, we should just choose a path, any path, to go down. At the end of the day, one’s practice is a map of the theme on hand. If the path you first chose leads you to a dead end, you simply have to return and reroute, now knowing that that was not the right path for you. This open-ended yet dogged investigation of your theme, which I feel is exemplified in Zhao’s practice, can help you remain curious and responsive to “happy accidents.”
Trust the process
The world Zhao’s exhibition transports us to induces curiosity, but also overwhelms us with the sheer quantity of material. You can choose to skim everything, or painstakingly look at every single detail — I did a mixture, slowly walking through the array, stopping when something was particularly striking or intriguing.
Evidence of Things Not Seen provides a timeline of how Zhao’s practice has matured and evolved over the years, and how he increasingly explored different ways to enhance his photographs. He adopted new techniques, materials, and formats, and became more proficient in occupying three-dimensional spaces as well. His trajectory reminds us to be courageous in reinventing the ways we express ourselves. Just as some phrases exist in one language but not another, new visual languages enable us to uncover new truths and ideas.
Methodologies, and the insights derived from these investigations, become more refined with time and dedication, as is clear in Zhao’s evolution from his early photography works in the 2010s to his most recent major installation in Venice. Through his investigative approach towards ecology, he has been able to paint a more compelling map of the ideas he wishes to unpack – tackling concepts of greater complexity and presenting them with greater sensitivity and poise.
Now it’s your turn …
For young creatives and artists, especially students, Evidence of Things Not Seen instils an assurance that things will work out eventually, though this will take heavy investment. The survey of Zhao’s work proposes that we approach our journeys in art and creativity through the lens of research — testing hypotheses, but also embracing diversions and unexpected discoveries along the way, and being open to arriving at destinations we did not plan for. Instead of looking for answers, then, pose questions and unpack them accordingly. Even if you arrive at an answer, do not be satisfied with it, because there are always more questions to be asked.
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Evidence of Things Not Seen: an investigation into Robert Zhao’s artistic practice runs at ShanghART Singapore until 28 July 2024.
Header image: Installation view of Evidence of Things Not Seen.
