Conversation with Curator Xiaoyu Weng
‘Lee Bul: Prints’ at STPI
By Ian Tee
STPI – Creative Workshop & Gallery concludes its 21st anniversary with ‘Lee Bul: Prints’, a solo exhibition highlighting the Korean artist’s foray in the medium of printmaking. Curated by Xiaoyu Weng, the show features five new series that challenge the conventions of printmaking through unusual materials such as copper powder and iron filings. This body of work continues Lee Bul’s engagement with themes of utopian modernity and technology.
Xiaoyu Weng is an award-winning curator and writer based in New York. Her practice focuses on the impact of globalisation as well as the intersection of art, science and technology. She has curated more than 50 exhibitions and projects internationally, including ‘Tales of Our Time’ (2016-17) and ‘One Hand Clapping’ (2018) at the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum in New York.
In this conversation, Xiaoyu shares her insights on Lee Bul’s new body of work and its connection to the artist’s oeuvre. She also speaks about her connection with Southeast Asia as well as the post-pandemic “return” to craft and the body.
In your curatorial essay, you proposed the metaphor of the “clear mirror” as a way to consider ‘Lee Bul: Prints’. Can you briefly introduce the idea of the “clear mirror”?
The “clear mirror” is the curatorial entry point and framework I used for this exhibition. In fact, this idea comes from a Zen Buddhist teaching from the 13th century. And interestingly, because of the wide circulation of Zen Buddhism, I did not learn about this in my East Asian upbringing. I encountered it from an unexpected route through the writing of French philosopher Jean-François Lyotard.
Lyotard is the author of The Postmodern Condition, and a very important figure when it comes to challenging notions of a grand narrative. This counter position to modernism is important in Lee Bul’s practice, and she has made many references to Lyotard. Lee Bul mentioned that she was not aware of Lyotard’s text on the clear mirror and I introduced this idea to her.
Lyotard also attempted very interesting curatorial work at the Centre Pompidou in Paris. In 1985, he co-curated ‘The Immaterial’ and it was the first exhibition that presented visual art on equal terms with industrial design, information technology etc. Lyotard wanted to speculate the future of technological development and think critically about the Western understanding of technology. According to Lyotard, technology’s ultimate goal is to record as precisely as possible, and in particular, to help us record history. As we think about the modern technology we are using, it is no surprise that we think about computers, the hard drive, the memory stick, these are tools that help humans maximise the memorisation process. Lyotard thought that recordings of this exactitude limit imagination. He looked for ways of working through these issues in Eastern thinking and found them in Buddhist teachings, such as this quote about the clear mirror.
The quote goes “when a person is standing in front of the clear mirror, you see the reflection of him or her. But what happens when a broken mirror is standing in front of mirror?” It is the infinite smithering that refers to this sense of not being able to create a complete image or a complete historical narrative. Lee Bul’s fascination with broken materials and how they gather made me think about the clear mirror. The idea of many small pieces coming together and many narratives that are spread around is an interesting way to think about her work. This is a starting point for the exhibition at STPI.
How does the “clear mirror” position help us think about the imagery in this new body of work?
The clear mirror position is where we challenge the complete image of a historical narrative, or our surroundings and realities. This comes across in a conceptual and literal way, in the ‘Untitled - SF’ series. Visually, the print reminds me of a broken black screen, or a shattered mirror. We all have the familiar references from everyday life, such as a broken iPhone screen, or the TV show ‘Black Mirror’ where the opening scene is like a shattered screen. The imagery also calls to mind the idea of navigating through the urban jungle, seeing lights reflected in the glass façade of high-rises.
In referencing the “clear mirror”, I wanted to play around with this idea of an attempt to reflect and the effort required to “see through” the surface. In Lee Bul’s prints, the layers of effort that are not explicit. For example, there is a build-up of 12 to 16 layers of paper, vinyl and foil in the ‘Untitled - SF’ series. This sort of “self-revealing” comes when the viewer spends time with the artwork, so it is not an immediate reflection but something deeper and richer.
Lee Bul’s prints are produced in variations, instead of editions. That is to say that there are differing features or, in your words, “personalities” in each print. How do the unique printing methods result in such an outcome? And how does this gesture relate to larger ideas in Lee’s practice?
In traditional printmaking, there are minimal or no changes in each edition. Because of the use of special materials, the effects embrace serendipity. With regard to the “personalities” you mentioned, I was describing the ‘Untitled - CC’ series’ where Lee Bul references the silhouette of her earlier series of sculptures called ‘The Cyborg’. This idea of the human figure helped me imagine that maybe each print would want to have its own existence and not just be a reproduction of something. It is like a cyborg that slowly gains consciousness and becomes sentient in a way.
In ‘Untitled - CC’, copper powder is oxidised to create a patina. Lee Bul had to lose control of the outcome to create these beautiful effects. Through this process, it is also important to think about the tension between controlled narrative and organic unfolding of stories.
There is a distinct look and feel to the exhibition, through interventions such as the mirror floor and densely packed hang of certain prints. Tell us more about these curatorial decisions and how they frame/ set up the viewing experience.
As Lee Bul and I were discussing the curatorial direction, she wanted something classic instead of a more spatial oriented display in her installations. At the same time, I started to think about how we can make the experience a little whimsical and surprising for the audience. Considering her long-term interest in the mirror and reflective materials, I proposed a mirrored floor and she liked it. After it was installed, I thought about the relationship between the two sets of prints hung in that part of the gallery and it makes so much sense.
Lee Bul calls the two series of prints ‘Untitled – PI’ and ‘Untitled – SI’ doppelgangers of each other, because they are from the same provenance image. One was silk-screened with different colours, while the other saw the addition of iron powder. For the artist, it also deals with two sides of a story, two sides of history, two sides of many things that we experience in life. It is never so black and white.
Lee Bul is best known for her monumental installations that feature objects or settings from specific historic moments. How do aspects of time and materiality manifest differently in her two-dimensional works, such as her ‘Perdu’ paintings made with mother of pearl and acrylic, and these new prints?
I think three-dimensional and two-dimensional works create very different physical experiences for the audience. In many ways, Lee Bul’s two-dimensional work requires more imagination from the viewer, with more ways of looking and understanding. I think the sense of time and money is also embedded in the materiality and the labour of creating these works.
There is a very meditative process in building up these layers. When describing the ‘Untitled - SF’ series, Lee Bul said she wanted to create a spatial experience or relationship, but not through a three-dimensional object or through a representational image. This layering is already constructing space.
In your role as Founding Director of Asia Programmes at the Kadist Art Foundation (2010-15), you organised shows such as ‘Ho Tzu Nyen: The Cloud of Unknowning’ (2011), ‘Ming Wong: Making Chinatown’ (2012) and ‘Robert Zhao Renhui: Flies Prefer Yellow’ (2014). Could you talk about your relationship with Singapore/ Southeast Asia?
Thank you for bringing up these past shows. It is an honour for me to get to know these artists and maintain a long-term relationship with them. When I worked at the Kadist Art Foundation, I developed an interest in Southeast Asia, a region that was unfamiliar to me at the time. That was almost 14 years ago, I was a recent graduate from a curatorial practice programme at California College of the Arts (CCA) in San Francisco.
Working with Kadist gave me the opportunity to come to Singapore for research trips and truly understand the scene. I became fascinated with the complex layers of cultures and histories. These conversations and discourses were not prominent through my art history and curatorial education, and quite invisible in North America’s art world and contexts that I was working in.
Of course, things have evolved over the past 10 to 12 years and there are so many new opportunities for and recognition of all these fantastic artists. I would love to continue working with them and situate their practice in different contexts going forward. I wish to renew our discourse on globalism, as it has become a challenging issue today in both the cultural and political sectors.
You have experience working with and building collections at different institutions, such as Kadist, The Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum in New York, and Art Gallery of Ontario in Toronto. In your opinion, what does a progressive collection look like or do?
There is an interesting play between the act of collecting and the reasons for collecting. There is certainly the impulse and intention to preserve. To preserve culture, a sense of our time, and beauty for future generations. When we think about history and time, a progressive collection would reflect our time and the issues artists are working through.
For me, first and foremost, a progressive collection should not just be about one person's taste. Of course, an individual’s collection is very different from a museum, foundation or institutional collection. Hence, it is important to have a guidepost for how the collection is being defined and the identity it wants to put forward.
I think a sense of mission is equally important, interacting with the artists and being an active participant in the art ecology. This is especially so when it comes to collecting contemporary art. Building relationships between newly acquired artworks and those in the existing collection is another aspect. Overall, I think the idea of public collection is also quite crucial in terms of the accessibility of these works. A progressive collection should be as accessible as possible to the public and be available for learning.
I would like to end the conversation with an observation you made in a recent interview with Revista-ARTA. You spoke about a post-pandemic “return to craft, to its connection with the body… as a response to the increasingly immaterialised nature of technology.” In your opinion, is this “return” part of a cyclical trend or might there be fundamental shifts?
For me, I understand time in a more cyclical way. There are raptures and shifts, but in the end, you always kind of return to a certain point. It is more like the shape of DNA, instead of a linear progression going forward.
I feel that this return to craft and connection with the body is something that is always there. It goes along with Western philosophical notions that separate the mind and the body. However, today, there is increasing evidence that the mind and body are closely connected. I think this might guide the development of technology in ways that provide different imaginations of a technological future. Perhaps technological invention may become more in line with artistic practice.
This interview is edited, and presented in partnership with STPI – Creative Workshop & Gallery.
‘Lee Bul: Prints’ is on view from 4 November to 23 December 2023 at STPI Gallery, Singapore. The accompanying exhibition catalogue, with Xiaoyu Weng’s curatorial essay, is available here.