The path to Temenggong Artists-in-Residence is up an unassuming road near the HarbourFront train station. Crest the hill, and you’ll find a compound of colonial-era black and white houses, surrounded by lush tropical greenery. The last of these, 28 Temenggong Road, is home to one of Singapore’s most unique art spaces, run with aplomb by Singaporean artist Henri Chen Kezhan and arts administrator Reis Lee.
Founded in 2009, the nonprofit arts company operates under the ethos of “artists-helping-artists,” regularly hosting artist residencies, exhibitions, film screenings, and other programmes. This week, it’s staging the fourth edition of its annual exhibition Temenggong-SG-Creatives, featuring local artists Randy Chan, Suriani Suratman, and Roy Wang.
Each edition of Temenggong-SG-Creatives has invited Singaporean creatives from diverse disciplines to respond to the Temenggong site’s unique geography and history through new work. Under the theme Expressing Heritage: A Natural State of Being, this year’s works take inspiration from the riches of nature, while also questioning what it means to exist in a “natural state.”
Within and without
As you approach 28 Temenggong Road, you’ll see, first of all, large sheets of iridescent acrylic reflecting their surroundings in rainbow hues, as well as a rickety-looking wooden platform from which you can stand and survey the hilltop view. Walk in a little further, and you’ll spy three freestanding yellow panels, connected to each other by a dense network of green threads and holding tender green bean sprouts.
Behind these are sprawling structures big enough to duck under, made of bamboo poles supporting honeycomb-like canopies. All these installations, which add a distinctly contemporary flavour to the historical setting, are the work of artist, architect, and educator Randy Chan (b. 1970).
In his artist statement, Chan asserts that his works “tell of the layered nature of existence, and the sheer number of threads that are superpositioned to form our reality as we know it.” Abstract as this sounds, it proves a useful framework to read some of the works, which feature rounded, natural forms Chan describes as “various pods, vessels, and containers.”
Chan’s Weight of time, for instance, graces the Temenggong building’s first-floor stairwell, where egg-shaped forms made from raw timber hang from lengths of red thread. Ascend the staircase, and you’re greeted with Assimilation: I am here — the unlikely sight of a bamboo forest transported into a stately colonial house. Seemingly held upright by a near-invisible network of fishing line, the dry bamboo stems are adorned with wooden shapes resembling seed pods, and surround a circular mirror like a shining lake.
In the tendril-like green threads, ornamental red ones, and clear fishing lines, we find direct references to the superpositioned threads Chan claims form our reality — a visual representation of the complex, interconnected, paradoxically both chaotic and ordered nature of all things. But the “various pods, vessels, and containers” of his work suggest an additional, though less explicitly articulated, theme: the mysterious relationship between inside and outside, self and surroundings.
What is, after all, a vessel if not an object that must be open to things other than itself? Or an egg or seed, if not a self-contained, miniature universe that must crack open for new life to grow? Or a mirror, if not a surface defined by its ability to reflect the rest of the world?
These ideas are perhaps best encapsulated in Chan’s In between encounters, a cocoon-like structure made of crisscrossing strips of bamboo. Even as they define and enclose the shape, the bamboo strips also leave it porous, entirely open to its environs. A vision, perhaps, of each of us, à la American artist Jenny Holzer: “With all the holes in you already there is no need to define the outside environment as alien.”
Or, as Chan himself puts it, “… the works reach outwards and seek to create a dialogue with the viewer, the hills, the sky, the forest, and all that has and continues to surround them, posing the question of what is to continue, and what is to change.”
Nature and nurture
One of the building’s several rooms is dedicated to works by Suriani Suratman (b. 1959), notable ceramicist and social anthropologist. Like Chan, Suriani draws inspiration from natural forms — here, the humble angsana fruit, known to us from primary school science classes.
The room centres on a display of the Sebarkan! (Spread) Series 1, the artist’s first foray into large-scale installation. Suspended with fishing line, angsana fruits — sculpted from local clay by Suriani and five students from the Tasek Academy and Social Services Art Lab Programme — cascade from the ceiling and form a heap on the floor.
Dispersed by wind, the angsana fruit represents for Suriani the spread of “ideas, knowledge and values.” Each containing untold potential, angsana pods float through the air, landing on fertile ground far from their trees of origin to bear new fruit. Appropriately, Suriani dedicates the Sebarkan! project to her father, the late literary pioneer Suratman Markasan — who, as a writer and educator, lived a life devoted to the pursuit and dissemination of knowledge and values.
As air currents circle through the room, the hanging pods of Sebarkan! Series 1 sway gently and cast shifting shadows on the walls. Suriani describes the 1100-piece installation as “a multitude of … individual seeds crossing spaces, hovering, and landing” — a powerful image of the thousands of minute interactions that make up an education, in any sense of the word.
Work and play
Unabashedly colourful and nearly too bright to look at, Roy Wang’s (b. 1987) neon sculptures — which would look more at home in a trendy club than a tranquil forest — offer a different take on the exhibition’s theme.
In his Touch the cat series, Wang, founder of multidisciplinary art and design studio FACTORY, questions the conventional structure of the 24-hour day: eight hours for work, eight hours for recreation, and eight hours for rest. In other words, he casts into doubt what we usually assume to be a “natural state of being.”
Cats are an appropriate motif for the Temenggong site, home to not only the animal-loving Chen and Lee but also their many pets. To Wang, cats are “sentient beings, fully aware and deeply attuned to the world in ways we often overlook,” suggesting an alternative way of moving through life.
Reaching the building’s second floor, you’ll first encounter Rest, which features a giant cat’s paw formed from multicoloured neon lights. Above the paw, a heart-shaped mirror decorated with the Chinese character 累 (tired) bobs up and down.
In another room, a paw reaches towards a glowing pink heart, embellished with twirling siren lights, that spins to the jaunty tune of “Baby Elephant Walk” by American composer Henry Mancini. Look closely at the designs on the paw, and you’ll spy a tiger playing mahjong and a stylish woman sipping a drink. This, of course, is Play.
While all three works include kinetic elements, in Work it is the cat’s paw itself that moves, slowly sweeping a circle in the centre of the room. Just behind this, there’s a dizzying wall projection where the numbers one to eight swirl around. All a nod, perhaps, to the cyclical nature of work — complete one workday, and the next you’ll have to repeat it all over again.
Though Wang’s works are inspired in part by the gruelling experience of working double factory shifts in his youth, their cheeky, colourful aesthetics prove that art can be playful yet still make serious social commentary. Most of all, he asks us to reflect on our own lives: are we following our true desires, or simply adhering to what society expects of us?
Perhaps, we could all learn a lesson or two from a cat chasing a toy or lazing in the sun.
Fertile ground
From Randy Chan’s enigmatic vessels to Roy Wang’s flashy kinetic sculptures, the three artists in the fourth Temenggong-SG-Creatives exhibition have responded to the theme and site in their own unique ways. Varied and thought-provoking, the show reaffirms Temenggong’s status as a distinctive player in the local art scene.
Among the site’s many attractions is the delightful effect of contemporary artworks in a historical setting. As viewers squeeze through narrow corridors and duck into hidden rooms, they’ll spot avant-garde installations and antique furniture sitting side-by-side — Wang’s works, for instance, cast a neon glow on a carved cabinet or reflect off the screen of a retro TV. It’s emblematic of how Temenggong honours the past while also being very much of our time.
But perhaps most importantly, Temenggong provides artists with the space, time, and invigorating social environment necessary to develop exciting new work. In the exhibition materials, Suriani puts it best:
“Where it sits, amidst flora and fauna and a rich historical past, supporting artists and stimulating cultural conversations for many as well as sustaining an environment that enriches art experiences is[,] to me, Temenggong Artists-in-Residence’s natural state of being.”
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Expressing Heritage: A Natural State of Being runs at Temenggong Artists-in-Residence until 29 September 2024 (12–6 pm). Find out more @temenggongsg.
Header image: Roy Wang, Touch the cat Series Rest (2024), aluminium frame, neon LED tubes, hydraulic motor device, stainless steel rod, infinity mirrored box with LED light tracks, and video projection mapping on window with sound motion. Image courtesy of Temenggong Artists-in-Residence.
