CALENDAR UPDATES

To be honest, it’s a little bit hard to sit myself down and write when the Seto Inland Sea is beckoning me from a 10-minute bike ride away. The past 2 weeks has been a lot of catching up with friends, visiting islands, looking at art in the Setouchi Art Triennale, and having really good food and drink. I haven’t had much of a break since my residency in Yogyakarta last year in September, so I think I’ve indulged quite a bit since arriving in Takamatsu mid-April.

My first time in Takamatsu was in 2016, when I joined the Koebi-tai volunteer group* that has help run the Setouchi Triennale since its inception in 2010. An absolutely clueless city girl then, I stayed in the dormitory (which was in a huge, old temple) for a month, practicing my rusty Japanese, exploring the area on bicycle, taking baths in the public sento, and experiencing a festival that would change my perspective on art forever. It seemed almost impossible to me then that art could be enjoyed in so many ways outside of a gallery or museum setting, by so many people from all age groups. Everyone was so kind and helpful. Even as someone from a ‘creative’ background, the knowledge of contemporary art of the ordinary salaryman who had volunteered for the festival surpassed mine. I was hungry to know more what was special about this community that allowed them to enjoy art in this way, so I started reading ‘Art Place Japan’ by Fram Kitagawa, the founder of the festival. His thoughts and struggles building this festival blew my mind; more importantly though, it helped me realise it wasn’t that the community was special— it was the introduction of art that had changed them. And if you’ve been following me for a while, that’s the reason I can’t stop talking about the Triennale. It’s my obsession.

Having grown up in a city, I find that it’s harder and harder for us to ‘take care of ourselves’. You press a button and food appears at your door. You press another button and a car arrives and sends you to work. You ‘cycle’ to get fit (spin classes), yet the point wasn’t to bring you anywhere in distance. Some give in entirely and use AI instead of their brain to write and ask questions. You don’t have to be good at sewing or craft when clothes and other goods are available at an accessible price point. But what is the trade-off? Humans have believed that automation and machines would make their lives easier, since the industrial revolution. To some extent, yes. But this festival has helped me realise the importance of using our own bodies to take care of ourselves. Feed ourselves. Make for ourselves. Clean up after ourselves. All those icky tasks we hate doing? They have a point, more than just getting it done. We all got a taste of that simple contentment during lockdown. But those core tasks were forgotten, turning into novelty activities once our lives snapped back and the clockwork began again.

This year, many more Singaporeans have found their way to the Triennale. It’s quite crazy thinking I’ve known Takamatsu for 9 years! I remember having a huge culture shock when I came here. I couldn’t find an electronics store that sold a laptop charger, nor any SIM cards for sale. Miserable for 2 weeks, panicking about losing connection with friends and unable to work, angsty at having to cycle 10 minutes just for a shower; I finally gave in, threw my devices aside, and had the best time of my life. I cried so hard when I had to leave. And now, I’ve grown up; so has Takamatsu. The big mall ORNE at the station now has MUJI, and even TSUTAYA! It’s so well-known now, thanks to the Triennale. And it will always be a special place to me.

*They are always looking for volunteers. No experience needed, no particular knowledge in the arts. No need to know any Japanese at all. If you’re from overseas, there is a free volunteers dormitory you can stay in during the festival season. You get to join artwork production (even meet some artists!), man the artworks (and look at them all day!), and more. I highly recommend it as a way of knowing the festival from the inside. Click on the link above to sign up, or ask me if you have any questions.

WHAT I HAVE BEEN UP TO

WE BEGIN WITH EVERYTHING

I was delighted to be invited as an artist showing in the inaugural exhibition of ara Contemporary, a new gallery in Jakarta, Indonesia. The show features 17 artists from Southeast Asia, namely Agan Harahap, Albert Yonathan Setyawan, Alisa Chunchue, Carmen Ceniga Prado, Condro Priyoaji, Dawn Ng, Enggar Rhomadioni, Ipeh Nur, Irfan Hendrian, Iwan Effendi, Kelly Jin Mei, Mar Kristoff, Marcos Kueh, Natalie Sasi Organ, S. Urubingwaru, Wedhar Riyadi, Xiuching Tsay.

It’s my first exhibition in Jakarta, and alongside so many respected seniors in the industry whose works I love. I feel really grateful for this opportunity, and thankful that some gallerists are giving younger artists a much-appreciated tug into new waters.

Aside from Kagé, which I completed during my residency in Kyoto in 2024, I exhibited 2 new vessels: Kakomu, which is a sister piece to Kagé, and Tender, which is a vase I completed in 2023, right after my first solo exhibition of nylon vessels. At that point, I was fascinated with openwork and the colours from ceramic glazes, and colours that teetered between boundaries (blue, or green?). However, after completing this vessel, I felt it was not ‘ready’ for destruction. It ended up having a ‘resting period’ of 2 years before I melted it in 2025. I also had a video of it shot, because I wanted to observe how the marbles would rip through the molten nylon. (The video is in the link to the work.)

Sometimes, it is still difficult for me to embrace ‘imperfections’ of a piece. Initially, I created my Unbecoming series as a way of letting go of that urge to pursue ‘completeness’— letting the fire have the final say. However, as I learnt how the fire and material behaved, I started to grasp how to achieve certain effects. Sometimes, humans are too ‘smart’ for our own good. And that ‘unlearning’ of trying to ‘improve’ everything is hardest in the process of art-making. Capturing instantaneous energy is something I want to do, but is a challenge with the process of crochet that is built row upon row. With Kagé and Kakomu, I intended for the shadow to look different from the object (playing with perspectives), so there was some form of control needed. But the shadow of Kakomu looking like a ‘god-like’ icon was not planned. I think it’s always a good thing that an artwork can surprise even its maker.

NEW THINGS I SAW

SETOUCHI TRIENNALE 2025

MEGIJIMA

The Setouchi Triennale (also known as ‘Setogei’) is spread across 3 seasons, and some artworks or events are only available during one of them. It’s a good way to keep people coming back to visit, so people can see how the artworks have evolved or been impacted by nature, since some of them are exposed to the environment.

Megijima will always have a special place in my heart as I was the person-in-charge of the volunteers on mostly Megijima and Ogijima when I joined the staff in 2019. Since I missed the festival in 2022 due to Covid, I haven’t been back on the island for 6 years. In 2019, one of the new spaces opened was an old ryokan, which turned into the ‘Little Shops on the Island’. The volunteers helped out with cleaning up the space, oiling the wooden floors, scraping compacted soil from the drains, and so on (as a volunteer, you learn that the most mundane chores can contribute so much to the experience— sometimes, the mark of a job done well is when the experience is so smooth no one notices). I was so proud and happy to see the space this year— while some artworks like the ‘Coin Laundry’ by Leandro Erlich remained, the new works have really leveled up from 2019.

The concept of ‘Little Shops’ is that each artist has a product or service they would like to ‘sell’. In 2019, Eros Nakazato created a space that ‘massages the heart’; this year, the space was turned into a ‘yoga studio’. Eros’ works often has a steampunk aesthetic to it— he uses found materials, parts of musical instruments and more, to create large installations or mobiles that reacts to the user. This year, there is a swing facing this fantastic scenery (above); sit on it and the gears start up a rhythmic cacophony of guitar strings, cymbals, and more, while a crystal ball drifts lazily across the landscape. As I grow older, I find that I love artworks that are difficult to capture in photo or video. The experience has to be had.

One of the draws of Setogei is the large-scale installations in the most unexpected of locations. This artwork by Jacob Dahlgren was located in the swimming pool of the elementary school that has been temporarily closed due to a lack of students. The scale is massive, and it does impress. Many of the items (including old televisions, containers) were collected from the locals and arranged with wooden blocks. Looking down at it from the side of the pool, I felt like I was watching from above a vacant city; a strange juxtaposition against the island, of which a dwindling population is one of the main issues.

SHODOSHIMA

Wang Wen-Chih from Taiwan is an artist that makes an appearance every single Triennale, and loved by the locals. Making use of the excess bamboo on Shodoshima, he brings his large team of skilled indigenous people from Taiwan and builds his artwork with support from architecture students eager to learn from him, and volunteers.

Many visitors have the same thought as me when they first see this artwork: it’s enough to just see it from the road (where I shot the photo above). The artwork is situated in a ‘valley’, so you have to park your car and walk a bit of a distance to it. But let me tell you— it is worth it. There is no understanding the work as well as when you are inside it.

The artist changes the design every year, even if the location and materials remain. I always see it as a good sign when the islanders visit the artwork (though it is free for them)— and this one is very, very popular. The criss crossing of bamboo provides shade, yet just enough sunlight and breeze filters in, making it the ultimate nap spot. It’s not for those in a hurry; artwork is always best experienced with time.

Another star artwork in Shodoshima is by Toyofuku Ryo, which is sure to draw long queues, also due to the time it might take. An entire ‘cave’ was constructed, with a manmade ‘lake’ inside; guests are invited to sit in a boat that floats you around the lake once. The walls are entirely plastered with gold objects— and while you might not first notice it in the darkness, the texture is created by hundreds or even thousands of oyster shells, painted gold and stuck to the installation one by one. This is definitely one of the craziest artworks I’ve seen in a while.

First created in the 2016 edition, OK TOWER is being re-exhibited in Shodoshima. Because I missed it then, it is my first time seeing it and watching the delightful ‘music video’ accompanying the huge paintings. It’s been so long since I saw an artwork that was so playful yet impactful, and more importantly inclusive of the locals. You could tell they were all so excited to be featured in the video. It reminds us that this art festival was created for the locals, something that might have been forgotten as Setogei becomes flashier and fancier with bigger names edition after edition.

Shodoshima is huge, and I’d say it is IMPOSSIBLE without a car. If you do intend to see more artworks within a single day, do consider a rental car. Whatever people might tell you, cycling is quite impossible, unless you only want to see 1 or 2 artworks. As such, it’s helpful to plan in advance which artworks you want to see (paying attention to the opening hours!). The last work I’d recommend is Tanaka Keisuke’s— he’s exhibited previously but this year’s version is really good. He carves wood and paints them so it looks like moss or tiny trees are growing out of the wooden structure. Aside from the ‘portrait’ of himself ‘working on’ the building, there are other smaller sculptures and maquettes around the space.

WHAT I’M UP TO NEXT

18th International Triennial of Textile

The visual is a bit shouty but since they sent it, I will use it! And I have to say, I am very proud of myself for finally getting into such a prestigious triennial (though I do know that is a VERY lucky coincidence that the theme, Deconstruction/Reconstruction is tied so closely to my work). In fact, when looking through the list of 71 selected artists (out of 1618 entries!!!), I was searching for the names of other people I knew, when I spotted my name. I jumped out of bed (it was 3am Singapore time) and screamed it out on text to my partner (who was of course, asleep). This will be my second Triennial/Biennial, the first being the 4th Objet Textile Biennale with the La Manufacture Museum in France (2024).

Since I started on my studio work in 2020 with the goal of showing in more galleries or museums, it has been tough. I will say that not having an art education denies you many opportunities (so I will always be grateful to those who gave me a chance in the early days). Many art students have their first group shows in school; after graduation, the likelihood of them being invited to shows is higher due to them already being connected to the art world. From 2020-2024, I was desperately looking for ways to get myself into more group shows in my home country. Even when textile art experienced a surge of interest and textile-centric exhibitions popped up, my work hardly peaked any interest in the local art scene. The first local group show I participated in (2021) was actually through a connection from my yarn sponsor. Tired of trying to squeeze myself in, I started looking overseas— ironically, I feel the playing ground is a bit more level, where people don’t have preconceived notions of who you are, and simply judge your work for what it is.

I started realising recently how this lack of art school education is a stumbling block but also a strength. I’ve never been shackled by art speak, or inhibited by the need to associate with certain movements. I am just doing, saying, and writing what I feel, which I guess is what some people hate and do not approve of. I have tried assimilating, but it hasn’t worked. Perhaps, it is this difference that will make the uphill climb at first so tough, but will become the catalyst for greater things in future. Perhaps.

RECENT HAPPENINGS

PIPPA

I created my first ‘Phone Companion’, Reggie in 2022, right after my solo exhibition. It was a fun escape project, and I wanted a ‘friend’ for my solo trip to Europe. Reggie became a massive hit even though his hair often obscured my photos with pink fluff (due to bad placement near the camera lens). I never intended to sell Reggie (or Reggie copies) because I had then stitched the crochet pieces to a silicon case, and knew the different types and sizes of phones would be a huge issue. That, and knowing not many would pay a high price for ‘usable’ creations.

However, during my solo exhibition in Takamatsu last year, my friend Lisa who runs the space Kotomath Hyogomachi gave me a few ideas to make a phone companion that could be removed, so the owner could change phone cases freely. It seemed workable, so I aimed to make an edition of 10— which ended up becoming 5, because repetition kills me (I remember why I stopped making ‘merch’, even though they sell so well). PIPPA is the improved version of Reggie, and at this point, only 3 are left for the launch on 1 May 2025, 9am JST (TOMORROW). (I adopted 1, and Lisa, who pushed me into making PIPPA happen, adopted another). If you’d like to take PIPPA home, check this link below when it launches!

LAST THOUGHTS

I might write up a proper article on my website about the Setouchi Triennale soon; there’s much more I’d like to say but this newsletter is getting incredibly long (again)… I also considered doing casual tours in the islands and Takamatsu, so I brought 2 of my collectors on a day trip to Megijima/Ogijima recently, and it turned out to be really fun! One of the best parts of being a volunteer is getting to know all the inside stories of an artwork, especially if you participated in its making. And that always makes you love that artwork and extra bit more, since there’s a bit of you in it (-:

One of the things Kagawa is known for (aside from Udon noodles), is the unpredictable mist. I once missed seeing my favourite band play because their plane could not land in the Takamatsu airport (I sulked). Trains stop due to it. And of course, ferries. The second day of the festival, there was a huge panic when ferries to Naoshima and Teshima (the 2 most popular islands) were cancelled. From our ferry to Shodoshima (which still ran), we saw the ferries and island simply melt away into the fog. The tourists were upset.

Our local friend said while grinning, “Ah, this is Kagawa in Spring.”

There’s after all really nothing that can control Nature. And there is a strange comfort in knowing there are some things taken out of your hands. Be wrapped in uncertainty. Be surprised. Stop trying to be in control, then maybe things will start making more sense.