Thoughts from Singapore
By Khai Hori

'My Own Words' is a monthly series which features personal essays by practitioners in the Southeast Asian art community. They deliberate on their locality's present circumstances, articulating observations and challenges in their respective roles.

Khai Hori. Image courtesy of Aji Bonn & Chan + Hori Contemporary, Singapore

It may not be what you want, or how you imagined it to be; but it could be.

I started off as an artist, then fortuitously held the post of Senior Curator at the Singapore Art Museum before getting invited to lead the artistic team at Palais de Tokyo in Paris. Eventually, I found myself a partner of a small long-running commercial gallery in Singapore, which was renamed Chan + Hori Contemporary.

For 10 years or so, I had struggled to make my mark and earn a living as an artist. That journey began as I completed my time in art school in Singapore. It was the moment when dial-up internet was just beginning to make its way into homes. Artist portfolios then consisted of printed papers, photographs and stacks of 35mm, plastic-mounted, Ektachrome slides. Commercial art galleries were as stiff then as the bricks and mortar they are made with today. Gallerists were not less shrewd and patronage of art was just as related to wealth, the wealthy and the habitually cultured. Theoretical and practical references to contemporary art were also as similarly aligned to the West. Most artists did not appear to earn enough from their art to practise full-time in dedicated studios. Corporate and state funding was limited, and censorship was as present then as it is today. This was the mid-1990s. Fast forward 25 years, I question where the art world is heading in this post COVID-19 epoch incessantly touted as the ‘new normal’. Grappling with money as it was then, and still today, seems to be the oversimplified rut of our existence. For me, we are staring at a ‘future’, an unknown ahead of us, as we have done every day of our lives. All speculations at this very moment, expert ones included, are capricious at best.

Does ‘normal’ exist in ‘new’, or ‘new’ in ‘normal’? Does ‘new normal’ not sound oxymoronic? The phrase ‘new normal’ is, in fact, not in itself new. Almost 12 years ago, following the 2007-2008 global financial crisis, ‘new normal’ was coined¹ to describe sentiments pertaining to the world’s post-crisis adaptation of day-to-day activities.

Chris Chong Chan Fui, ‘Devices’, 2019, exhibition installation view. Image courtesy of the artist and Chan + Hori Contemporary, Singapore.

Over the past decade, we have seen an exponential increase in the number of art biennales, fairs, festivals and museums. Cities have scurried to get in on the act, supporting such structures in part to help improve their placemaking efforts and international outlook. When done well, art could also contribute to local economies as demonstrated by the Museum of New and Old Art (MONA) in Tasmania, Australia. MONA is an exemplary example of private patronage that has been more than welcome by its local inhabitants for the economic contribution to local businesses³, even if some of its events have raised moral concerns.

With this explosion of contemporary art platforms, more artists from less traditionally known territories such as Southeast Asia, the Arab peninsula, Africa and Latin America have been discovered and provided with opportunities for dialogue. The patronage of art concurrently increased and now includes participation from a wider net of geographic locations. Bolstered by now high-speed fibre optic internet connectivity, the number of events grew and dialogues flourished. Yet, the presentation of art and artists has remained somewhat conventional.

Gallerists, curators and artists, even when engaged outside of white-cube formats, consequentially seek the sale of artworks in order to continue their work. Highly-regarded artists, whose visions are usually backed by heavyweight curators and exhibitions in stellar institutions are likely to see the best profits from high-value acquisitions of their works. These funds are funneled to further professionalise their studio operations. Meanwhile, young and emerging artists continue to find adaptable means to sustain a practice and living as they carve out and struggle up the value chain. Over time, I have come to learn the differing definition between “young” and “emerging” from various quarters. For marketplace players, “young” could refer to pre-auction inducted artists, whereas “emerging” is reserved for artists who are in auctions and being tracked.

Operational costs, depending on where the artists are based, inadvertently influence scalability, translation, production and presentation of an artists’ vision to the international audience. As an example, regardless of their professional levels, an artist from China is likely to spend less on materials and labour compared to an artist from France. This differing cost benefit in turn contributes to their attractiveness to project commissioners such as art centres, festivals, biennales and museums and presents perceptibly skewed living and sustainability standards. In a place such as Singapore, where active state support for the arts and its industry can turn into a crutch, art funding distorts the graph of marketplace truths and artistic independence.

Ahmad Abu Bakar, 'Land of Heavenly Sky’, 2019, opening night. Image courtesy of the artist and Chan + Hori Contemporary, Singapore.

A growth in platforms to present contemporary art can only point to an increase in demand. Today, this demand might not necessarily be in the areas of appreciation or lettered collection of art. There is an ever-growing public hungry for impactful content to feed the appetite of their social media pages. Art is called upon to support the image of celebrated social media influencers seeking to spice up their personal brands. This heavily edited superficiality conveniently relegates art and artists as fodder purely to incite envy under the guise of sharing. Art exhibitions, fairs, biennales, museums and centres have become the centuries’ new world fairgrounds. Meat and meaning are increasingly given a backseat. Instead, likes, shares, subscribes and follows have now become the accepted objectives.

Buying art, meanwhile, remains the pastime of investment pundits who are extremely passionate, or with deep enough pockets to throw house parties, or establish museums and foundations in order to show off their palate. Unlike Ferraris or Lamborghinis, one cannot drive an art collection to town for the admiration of ordinary folks.

Auction houses, private and commercial art galleries are naturally impacted by today’s real-world discord. Unfortunately, as businesses, such entities are caught among helping to realise artistic vision; catering to consumer market tastes; and managing demands from a purist minority who still believe in the power of art to communicate and push boundaries of intellectual and social discourse. For any artist today, the demands of professionalism are often as unfamiliar as they are loathsome. The same applies to many galleries. Commercial galleries are often expected to operate and display art in near museum-like conditions, place artworks in the collections of select clientele, represent artists in overpriced art fairs and, while some might disagree, groom the artists they represent. Galleries are often also expected to pander to the demands of collectors, even when the sale is for relatively minor pieces. I don’t recall having heard anecdotes of say Louis Vuitton staff receiving calls on public holidays to negotiate the sale of a non-unique handbag worth SGD3000.

There is a hefty price tag accompanying these demands for both artists and galleries. For small and medium-sized galleries, the value of the art typically on offer often cannot support rent. The pressure to sustain operations while delivering works that are aesthetically desirable, scholarly and distinctively progressive, at a good price point, is enormous. Let us not forget that today, we are witnesses to a time when many publicly funded museums are themselves under pressure to play to the gallery and translate policies drafted by their paymasters and achieve Key Performance Indicator (KPI) markers to justify their use of tax dollars. Obviously, this is the normal, it is not the new and should not be the future.

Dusadee Huntrakul, ‘To Dance is to be Everywhere, 2017, exhibition installation view. Image courtesy of the artist and Chan + Hori Contemporary, Singapore.

When I was working at a state-funded museum, I was strongly advised to restrict my association with art dealers, collectors and gallerists. In fact, at one point, I was even counselled not to be friends with artists. Close associations were regarded as a breeding ground for potential “conflicts of interest”. This laissez faire and somewhat paradoxical stance is rather well known in Singapore and has always puzzled me. Because, at the same time, there are ongoing efforts by the state to build an arts ‘industry’, encourage its economic independence and long-term sustainability. Commercial galleries are to me, amongst the key structures of the industry. Meanwhile, unlike many museum programmes and exhibitions, visits to commercial galleries are totally free-of-charge, for anyone. As with museums, visitors also get education and exposure to culture through the presentation of good-quality, and often, the newest art and ideas by respectable artists and curators.

COVID-19, although devastating in so many ways, should not be seen as the sole contributor to this unraveling. While societies have been innovatively disrupted in so many ways, the art world continues to rotate its tiresome, ancient cartwheels. Should Hans-Ulrich Obrist still be the go-to super curator? Are Tate, Pompidou and MoMA the bastions? Will Goldsmiths College, Royal College of Art, Art Institute of Chicago and École des Beaux-Arts continue to be the centres that groom qualified artists? Will London, Paris, Berlin and New York remain sacramental international art centres? Or, for that matter, will the likes of Pace, Perrotin, Zwirner and Gagosian galleries continue to dominate the headlines and influence art markets?

When Singapore embarked on the National Gallery Singapore project, I thought the opportunity to challenge the rules of translation and knowledge transfer had finally presented itself. For a country without the baggage of art history, it could roam free and be expressive, and even be experimental in presenting Southeast Asian modern art that is at its core and finally connect its discourse with the rest of the world, perhaps South America and Africa included. As a total newcomer, the gallery had no reputation to hold on to and perhaps, could afford to finally stretch its imagination. With all the resources afforded to the project, what could have been the barrier that kept it from doing so?

Today, when all of the art world is actively rethinking with what and how it could move forward, we are presented with yet another golden opportunity. There is nothing to prevent us, wherever we are, whoever we are, from pressing that reset button and re-imagining a less passive and more meaningful modus operandi for ourselves to reconnect with the international community. Art fairs, art centres, museums, and galleries will most likely remain in the format they have operated in for the longest time, but yes, we could each make the change we want now, one more time, with feeling.

The views and opinions expressed in this article are the author's own and do not necessarily reflect those of Art & Market.
Khai Hori is Curatorial Director and Partner at Chan + Hori Contemporary, Singapore. More information at www.chanhori.com.
Read all My Own Words essays here.

¹ABC News, Finance: Americans Adapt to the 'New Normal', Alice Gomstyn, 13 June 2009, https://abcnews.go.com/Business/Economy/story?id=7827032&page=1#.UHNPtdBrNDQ
²https://trademarks.justia.com/865/64/disruption-86564892.html
³MONA effect ripples out beyond Hobart to regional Tasmania, Leon Compton and Catherine Zengerer, 9 Jun 2018, https://www.abc.net.au/news/2018-06-08/mona-effect-ripples-out-to-regional-tasmania/9837626