Curator, writer and researcher from Phnom Penh
By Ho See Wah

Reaksmey Yean is a curator, writer, researcher and self-declared art advocate. Born in Battambang and currently based in Phnom Penh, Reaksmey undertook a Postgraduate Diploma with SOAS, University of London and subsequently a Master of Arts in Asian Art Histories, LASALLE College of the Arts. He has worked in various capacities such as in the communications department at Phare Ponleu Selpak, Battambang, curator at Jave Creative Café, Phnom Penh, independent curator and writer and now the Programme Director of Silapak Trotchaek Pneik, Phnom Penh.

In this conversation, Reaksmey discusses his introduction to curatorial practices, the still burgeoning art scene in Cambodia, and how education and collectorship play a big role in enhancing the local art ecology.

Opening of ‘The Object(s) of Collecting’, 2017 at Java Creative Café, Phnom Penh. Image courtesy of Norm Phanith.

Perhaps a good jumping-off point would be from your time as a curator with Java Creative Café, Phnom Penh, from 2016 to 2017. Was that your first brush with curating? What were the noteworthy moments that shaped your current practice as a curator, researcher, and writer?
Java Creative Café officialised my status as a curator, but it was not my first encounter with curatorial practices. To be more precise, I unwittingly entered this terrain ever since I co-founded the now-defunct art collective Trotchaek Pneik, literally meaning something that pleases the eye, in 2011.

I am grateful to Java and its owner and artistic director, Dana Langlois, for offering me, who was a novice at that time, the time and the money, the platform, and most of all, the liberty to intimately explore this terrain and to discover my interests in this field. Two moments come to mind from my time at the cafe that shaped and continue to inform my current practices: the act of writing, and my last curatorial project ‘The Object(s) of Collecting’ (2017).

I am one of those who wear many hats, so I also identify as an art advocate. To me, this means acting as a bridge between the artwork and the viewer and I believe that text, or writing, is one of the most appropriate and accessible means to do just that. For all of my past shows, I would write a bilingual curatorial essay in English and Khmer so as to provide a context and my own viewpoint on the exhibition. At the same time, the text functioned as an introductory guide for those who feel like they cannot comprehend the works. Whatever its function, the curatorial essays always attempted to follow some basic academic standards. For example, citing, researching, and integrating existing scholarship within. This is because I wanted the exhibitions to have two layers: there is the essence of the artworks, and then there is the critical analysis via text. It was from these experimentations that I started wanting to see such texts present in all of my curated projects.

The second pivotal moment, ‘The Object(s) of Collecting’ was an attempt to scrutinise the archive of local artworks and to recontextualise collectorship in the Cambodian landscape. I hoped that the show served as a “modality of proposition,” to borrow Patrick Flores’ words. In my case, this was to change the perception that there are no Cambodian collectors. The exhibition was a counterargument to this statement. The project was also a reminder for me to not be constrained by the space and setting, and also to remember the possibility of reinterpreting what is already there.

Shortly after, you pursued a Master of Arts in Asian Art Histories at LASALLE College of the Arts, Singapore, from 2018 to 2019. What was the impetus for doing a master's degree, and how did this enrich your curatorial interests? Did you engage in any curatorial work (or other work) while you were in Singapore?
As you now know, I came into curatorial practice unknowingly. I was not satisfied with the state of the Cambodian visual art scene. There was a lack of local presence, especially in exhibition-making and writing. I was also not pleased with the designation of “organiser”, which was the term used widely and loosely at my former school, Phare Ponleu Selpak, to refer to someone who curates the show. I believed that there should be another term to frame this role beyond simply organising. That is why I went on an expedition to find alternatives. In this regard, my going to LASALLE was to explore the idea of art curation.

I began my curatorial work without any art historical background or training in museum studies. I could have taken a purist and egocentric attitude, claiming that any existing standards or theory did not pollute me. However, I do not think that it is the right mindset. This is why I wanted to explore the curatorial practices and art histories of Southeast Asia, and to be exposed to theory, philosophy and conceptual frameworks. I did my first university degree, a Postgraduate Diploma at SOAS and although my time there was thought-provoking, my studies were more on ancient art history and archaeology rather than curation. It was helpful as it was aligned with my immense interests in Southeast Asian, Cambodian and Theravadin cultures. However, I thought I needed further knowledge, particularly in modern and contemporary art, to aid my curatorial practice.

LASALLE Convocation 2019. Image courtesy of Norm Phanith/Somrith Creative Studio.

Then, I found LASALLE. It is the only institution around that provides courses on contemporary and modern art in Southeast Asia. My time in Singapore was meaningful and memorable, and I am glad that Clare Veal was part of LASALLE’s programme because she is astoundingly well-versed in theory and philosophy. Dr. Veal was also a great supporter and mentor.

I also wanted to explore curatorial activities in the first few months, especially as I wanted to introduce Cambodian art to the city, so I had some initial discussions with Marie-Pierre Mol of Intersections Gallery. In the end, we did not pursue this further, in part because I wanted to focus on my studies. I find I need more time than others to read, write, think, and grasp difficult texts. But I hope that in the future, Marie and I can collaborate and make our aligned interests into something concrete.

With the Phare Ponleu Selpak founders. Image courtesy of Reaksmey Yean.

In your 2018 Art Republik article on Phare Ponleu Selpak, an art school based in Battambang, you noted that the school is instrumental in developing the domestic art scene. You were a student and staff at Phare yourself. How did your time with the school inform and influence your career path within the local landscape?
Phare was my start to a lifelong love affair with art. Before that, I grew up at a military headquarters, as my father is a highly-trained soldier and weapon technician. My environment was of canons, bombs, AK47, anti-tank missiles, and other war remnants. Some of these were my toys, and in my early teenage years I wanted to become a pilot and a soldier because I was in love with the military uniform, decorative elements and the idea of flying. And as far back as I can recall, I concurrently had a strange relationship with objects. I would always collect and keep things, with the hope of, as I would say to my mother, having them in a museum or to own one myself someday. It seemed that I was already unknowingly into museology and curation. I still have those objects, and I continue to collect military remnants, religious artifacts and other objects of interest. For the past ten years, I have been buying some paintings and sculptures for my own collection as well.

I enrolled in Phare when I was eight years old. It was not only an introduction to art, but also a shift from my “normal” environment of violence, war and masculinity. At the age of fifteen, I gave up my dream of becoming a soldier. Instead, I embarked on a different quest: to study Cambodia, its history and language, and, most importantly, its art and culture.

I began my journey at the school as a student in an informal educational system to study math and the Khmer language. I moved slowly towards drawing classes. I was the youngest student in the cohort, and because of that, Svay Sareth appointed Yim Maline, who was his then-girlfriend, to be my instructor and I was her only student. Things came to an end once the duo made their way to France to further their own studies. I also had a change of heart —I do not recall why— and moved on to study Khmer wedding music. I performed a few times but did not continue with a career as an artist.

Reaksmey and Yim Maline at the opening of Yim’s show, ‘The Shadow of Change,’ 2019 at Treeline Urban Resort, Siem Reap. Image courtesy of Reaksmey Yean.

This was partly because I found a new interest in reading and learning languages. Immediately after high school, Phare offered me a job in their communication department. It may sound fancy, but I was the only person in that department. I had no boss save for the executive director, and from time to time, I worked with the circus administrator to publicise the show in town. I accepted the job and attempted to find the best way to carry out my role, because I had no prior training in this field. I was lucky again as Dr. Tim Denny, whom I have never met in real life but has been a spiritual guide to me, aided me along the way. He introduced me to learning materials on communication in English and online platforms for literature and online courses, which were not as abundant then as they are now. That was my introduction to academic materials and research. Around that time, I also had the fortune of meeting Professor Ashley Thompson, the authoritative scholar on Cambodian cultural history. She introduced me to the world of Khmer studies, art history and Buddhology.

It was at the communication department that I discovered my voice and place in the Cambodian art ecosystem. I knew that I wanted to work at a contemporary art museum if there was one in Cambodia. I wanted to write about art and to create exhibitions, but I did not know what exactly my role could be. I did not have the language to conceptually define this. It was with this energy that I resigned from my post at Phare and made my way to Phnom Penh so as to begin my journey through the film industry. I worked as a production assistant, fixer and assistant production manager, mostly to earn hard cash to sustain my livelihood in the city. I had the chance to meet with some senior curators, such as Lydia Parusol, Kate O’Hara and Dana Langlois, who introduced me to the terrain of curating.

Since 2012 I have created, coined, repurposed and reused Khmer terms, including from art terminology such as installation, brushstroke, collector and masterpiece, to name a few. I received a lot of criticism and opponents on the matter, but I believe that someone has to be, as we Khmer would say, thick-skinned enough to challenge the authority or status quo.

Co-founder Sareth Svay has said that “to be a founder of Phare means to be a founder of contemporary art in Cambodia.” Could you give a primer on what the state of local art was like before the school came onto the scene, and subsequently, how it impacted the ecosystem?
The civil war in Cambodia continued up till 1996 despite the warring factions entering the Paris Peace Agreements in 1991, a resolution that marked the official end of the Cambodian-Vietnamese War. The United Nations peacekeeping mission administered by the United Nations Transitional Authority in Cambodia failed to disarm the conflicting counterparts. Against this backdrop, the cultural scene was hopeless, if not completely ignored. Culture and art were not the government’s priority, and The Royal University of Fine Arts and other state-run art institutions were in a poor state. If there were any cultural policies to be had, it was through the efforts of Vann Molyvann, the man that transformed Cambodia’s built environment in the 1960s. His approach had a strong focus on national treasures, for example, preserving the Cambodian archaeological sites and the Angkor region. The only art university in the country seemed to follow suit by teaching traditional Khmer arts and continuing the French colonial legacies, curriculum and fields of inquiry.

Amidst this, Phare and Reyum, another art and research institution that should also be credited, became the alternative platforms for art teaching and learning. Importantly, they were not conservative. Instead, they introduced new languages for the arts and its practices. Many practicing contemporary artists today are the products of Phare: Svay Sareth, Yim Maline, and Srey Bandaul, to name a few. It has also contributed to the local performing arts and design scene.

Attending ‘Home, Lost and Found’, 2018 by Svay Sareth and Yim Maline at Batia Sarem, Siem Reap. Image courtesy of Chhon Ravy.

In that same Art Republik article, you mention the country’s “underdeveloped art ecosystem and infrastructure” and “ lack of art educational institutions, literary resources, and platforms for public and critical discourse and discussion such as art journal and newspaper” among others.

Two years on and specific to the work that you do, what is the community of curators, writers, and researchers in Cambodia like at present? Are they mostly local or from abroad?
This is in reference to the cultural sector at large. While archaeology saw an increase in interest among Cambodian scholars, contemporary and modern art did not garner as much attention among the local thinkers, be it art history, curatorial and museological studies or art criticism. In any case, we do not have many Cambodian curators in either fields. For example, the National Museum of Phnom Penh, which is the largest holding of Khmer and Cambodian artifacts and archaeological remains, does not have even a single person for the job of curating.This lack is due, in some part, to the non-existence of these fields at local educational institutions.

Our cultural sector is developing relatively slowly, and it is hard to say whether there has been any improvement in these two years. While people are proud to have a few Cambodian curators in town, I sometimes feel like we mistakenly see this as an achievement. Many more have practiced the craft before us, just that they have stopped. Although they may not have labelled themselves as curators, from a theoretical and historical point of view and by tracing their trajectories and paths, we can confidently pinpoint them within this terrain. One example is Ly Daravuth, the co-founder of Reyum.

In response to the existing condition of our art scene and as well as the lack of Cambodian art critics, I am working with a local art institution, Cambodian Living Arts to tackle the issue. We are developing an interdisciplinary art criticism workshop to introduce what art criticism is to those who are interested in the field, or writers and reporters who wish to explore other types of writing. I hope we can recruit more people into this network, and most importantly, I am hoping to see more art writings by Cambodian authors and art critics in the Khmer language. If this workshop is successful, we are looking to conduct another one.

On that note, what more do you think can be done to nurture the art ecosystem and infrastructure across the country?
Three areas need to be nurtured: art education, museology and art collecting. Cambodia could improve its art educational institutions, especially the state-run ones, by introducing new fields of inquiries into the existing curriculum. This includes art history, both modern and contemporary, Western and Southeast Asia, museology, art therapy and contemporary art studies. Similarly, the national television channel could also enhance its programme by adding cultural and artistic documentaries and features, especially those that provide alternative viewpoints to nationalistic sentiments or agendas. The government could also allocate its budget to improve the museum standards in Cambodia by building more facilities to house modern and contemporary art. Museums could also display more than Cambodian arts, and potentially become a gateway to understanding and gaining exposure to the region and the world at large. Lastly, we could encourage more local collectorships. There are a few that already exist, but more serious ones could diversify the scene.

Silapak Trotchaek Pneik at YK Art House, Phnom Penh. Image courtesy of Reaksmey Yean.

You’ve been the Programme Director of Silapak Trotchaek Pneik, a modern and contemporary art space in Phnom Penh since January this year. Could you talk more about it, and what it offers to the local art community?
Silapak Trotchaek Pneik is, strictly speaking, a private initiative by an art-lover friend of mine, Dr. Irina Chakraborty and myself with the support of Svay Muoy, the widow of the late painter You Khin. It does not aim to be a commercial art space for now, but we hope to move towards that direction eventually. Presently, we want it to perform educational duties and roles. This might include publications, writing workshops, art criticism workshops, guided tours, public talks, panel discussions or shows on private collections. It is also designed to be in service of young and emerging artists by providing a space to show their works to the public. To survive, however, we have to have a certain amount of commercial initiatives, through which I hope to cultivate local collectorship with my existing networks.

Another aspect of the gallery is to be Cambodians’ gateway to Southeast Asia. After all, my interest is not restricted within the bounded territoriality of the country. Rather, I am more focused on the region and in particular, the Theravadin Buddhist region. I hope, if our financial status allows us, to host exhibitions by our counterparts from these areas. I want to initiate this by introducing the audience to some exciting and incredible artists from Southeast Asia, or at least those that I am in love with, such as Jakkai Siributr, Melati Suryodarmo and Dinh Q. Le, to name a few.

This space is located within YK Art House, which is now a hotel. It was designed by the late You Khin, one of Cambodia’s modernist artists and architects. In fact, National Gallery Singapore recently acquired his works. You can say that the gallery is a continuation of Khin’s legacy and story.

Silapak Trotchaek Pneik asserts that “art is one of the essential pillars of sustainability, and educational, social and economic development.” Personally, what does this mean for you?
Politically, I strongly advocate for art as a form of liberty and freedom of expression that must be protected, defended and preserved at all costs. In the Cambodian context, it is essential to cultivate, recognise, decolonise, and undo the decades of repression on freedom of expression and free speech if we want to establish and obtain a vibrant democratic society. I also believe that the theory of the three pillars of sustainability —social, environmental, and economic— is insufficient. I advocate for a more inclusive and interdisciplinary approach. Culture and humanities must be included to form the fourth pillar. Finally, I do not believe that the current educational system in Cambodia, which is based on STEM or Science, Technology, Engineering and Mathematics, is an answer to our economic and social development. The world has already witnessed the shortcomings of STEM. Hence, I firmly believe that we need to add the letter A to form STEAM, where A represents art and the humanities. I hope to advocate for this during my tenure at the Ministry of Education, Youth and Sports, where I am to be a junior specialist for higher education.

Silapak Trotchaek Pneik under construction. Image courtesy of Reaksmey Yean.

Apart from Silapak Trotchaek Pneik, are there any active art spaces in Cambodia that we should take note of?
I believe there are at least two spaces that are engaging, dynamic, thoughtful and well-curated. In Phnom Penh, we have Sa Sa Art Project and in Siem Reap, Batia Sarem. Java Creative Café would be another mentionable space. Unfortunately, it does not seem to have any activities lately, except for the Creative Generation programme that is not by Java Creative Café per se. We have more gallery spaces in the country, but I personally find that these two are the most outstanding. This is not to dismiss the worthiness of others, which are excellent in their own right, I am just personally not attracted to them.

Sao Sreymao, ‘Last Family Photo’, 2018, 60 x 90cm. Image courtesy of the artist and Reaksmey Yean.

And on local artists, who are the ones that you find exciting, and why?
Apart from my love for the works of senior and more established artists such as Pich Sopheap, Leang Seckon, Kvay Samnang, Srey Bandual, Svay Sareth, Aida Yeou Ali and Yim Maline, there are a few young and emerging artists that we should keep an eye on. My list includes Neak Sophal, Pen Robit, Chov Theanly, Sao Sreymao, Khiev Kanel and Hour Siha. They are painters, photographers, performance artists and to some degree, installation artists. I have a lot to say about them and their works. I am biased, of course, but I believe that their narratives, styles and artistic expressions are worth looking at. I love their stories, mainly because of the focus on contemporary issues and life in Cambodia.

What would be your advice for young Cambodians who are interested in curating, or writing and researching art?
I believe that great writers are also great readers. And a great reader is one who develops the ability to not only comprehend but also to critique a text and its meanings. I would encourage young Cambodians who are interested in these practices to begin their journey by reading to improve their textual and visual literacy. The latter can be further developed through frequent visits to museums and art galleries, taking part in art classes, reading art criticisms, and finding artworks that arouse them, leading them to explore their history, context and authors.

I also firmly believe that curators must know the art history or historical context of the locality that they are working with. Those who proclaimed themselves to be a curator and do not know anything about the history of art, especially within the context that they are situated in, are half-hearted, if not unprofessional curators.

Lastly, they must integrate writing as part of an everyday routine. It does not have to be perfect, but the important thing is to start.

Are there any upcoming exhibitions or projects that you’d like to share?
Thus far, Silapak Trotchaek Pneik does not have a concrete programme in place. This is partly due to our financial capabilities, but also our unreadiness since our space is still under renovation, which is temporarily on halt because of COVID-19. We are planning for something, which we will announce at a later date once we have more confirmation from the artists and when we know for sure the opening date. For now, we have to wait and see how the COVID-19 situation unfolds.

On a personal level, I am working on a research project, Contemporary Arts Making and Creative Expression Among Young Cambodians, financed by the University of Leeds’ Changing the Story grant. I joined the project as a co-investigator through my research affiliation with the Center for Khmer Studies.

For more information about Silapak Trotchaek Pneik, please visit https://www.facebook.com/STPcontemporary.Art/.