Christine Ay Tjoe: Perfect Imperfection

First Type of Stairs (2010), oil on canvas.

My review of Christine Ay Tjoe's solo as it appeared on ArtAsiaPacific:

A curator’s hand can make or break an artist’s work. “Perfect Imperfection,” the first solo exhibition in Korea of prominent Indonesian artist Christine Ay Tjoe, is evidence of one such making. The show reflects the deep understanding the curator has of the artist’s work that is needed to provide an informative framework of her artistic practice and development: from Ay Tjoe’s graphic influences to her beautifully colorful oil canvases. With over 60 works displayed across the three floors of SongEun ArtSpace in Seoul, the exhibition—organized by guest curator Jasmine Prasetio—leads the viewer through the past 15 years of Ay Tjoe’s practice by following the artist’s recurring spiritual metaphors: from darkness and light to somewhere between and within, and also the future. In her body of work, the artist converts Christian biblical references into secularized, spiritual inquiries of universal experiences that we share as human beings.

Jubah Barabas #01 (Barabas' Robe #01) (2008), acrylic on canvas.

The title of the exhibition aptly summarizes Ay Tjoe’s search for the balance between abstraction and figuration, and between control and free flow. The artist’s works are visual representations of her struggle with her own faith and its tension with her undeniable humanness. The painting Jubah Barabas #01 (Barabas’ Robe #01) (2008) exemplifies this constant balancing act, featuring abstract, intertwined figures, in which elements of light and darkness are inextricable linked to one another. Insatiable hands reach out from the obscured, floating bodies—in search of something and with a sense of perpetual longing. The constant strife that arises from the coexistence of our earthly and spiritual desires is perhaps the curse of being human, positioned somewhere between an animal and a transcendent, or an angel and a monster.

Interior / wall view of Journey Without Distance (2011), oil on canvas.

While the theme of insatiable human desires and spiritual transcendence over such worldly attachments pervade much of Ay Tjoe’s work, the artist’s search for a resolution serves as an open conclusion on the last floor of the gallery space. One cannot see the entirety of the large-scale painting Journey Without Distance (2011), because of its proximity to an adjacent wall and the lack of light. Just like how we often go about our everyday without pausing to take in the whole picture of our lives, this expansive painting—suspended from the ceiling and meant to be viewed from a 50-centimeter distance—allows viewers only glimpses of the three-paneled canvas at a time. Viewers must cautiously walk the narrow and dark path between the wall and canvas, following the painting’s soft fields of muted beige gradations, outlined and entangled by the white, red and black lines traced with her signature oil sticks.

The Last Layer (2012), oil on canvas, and video animation projection (2012-14).

The highlight of the exhibition is indisputably The Last Layer (2012), a red-hued painting that hangs isolated in a darkened space partitioned by black curtains. The chapel-like sanctuary achieves maximum effect when the projection of The Last Layer Video Animation (2012–14) spreads outward from the center of the aforementioned painting. The projection shows leafy, red shapes—a recurring motif in Ay Tjoe’s paintings—that turn round and round, like an array of flickering coins gradually spreading out on the floor and ceiling of the gallery space. The effect is mesmerizing: the red canvas appears otherworldly and, for a moment, transports the viewers to a sublime experience. Upon leaving the room, however, one comes to the realization that the search for a resolution is not over, and that our predisposition for inner strife will continue as long as humanity itself.

“Perfect Imperfection” is on view at SongEun ArtSpace, Seoul, until June 20, 2015.

shout out to the REAL ART CRITICS

Aftermath of Thomas Albrecht's Performance at Grace Exhibition Space, Body / Mass, Feb 7, 2014

Preliminary remarks:

I decided to forego the no-capitalization policy I have tried very stubbornly to uphold. I wanted to create a more casual and approachable aspect to my writing, and also attempt to eliminate hierarchy that capitalization sometimes bestows on words, concepts, names, etc. But it seemed that the content was as casual or unapproachable to many, as well as just making it difficult to read for those who are not comfortable reading long teenage personal diarrhea on the web.

And the real stuff:

A few recent observations about the “art world” and “artistic discourse”:

1.     No matter where you go, a social community is inevitably social; i.e. there will be hierarchies and dynamics that define the relationships between those involved—creator, distributor, manager, promoter, consumer, etc. etc. but those relationships, depending on the climate of the locale, may be more fluid than others, more open to negotiation and flux.

-       I used to contrast my frustration of feeling “locked out” of the “high art” scene in Venice, Chelsea of NYC, etc etc with the free love of the “community” in the not-so-financially supported Bushwick environment, but people are people and relationships will end up becoming the shitty, standard, fixed, unproductive nonsense that perhaps “art as commodity” has become unless we are aware of it from the beginning and take action to protect what is good about the freedom, the raw energy, the support of people who share common visions, feelings, spirit of a time/generation.

-       Let Bushwick live at the edge of art and gentrification; never let it fall fully into either one…

2.     I made several decisions in the past few years to slowly step out as “creator,” first, from being an object-maker to one who speaks about objects, then to someone who “manages,” helps, induces “creators” and others who speak about objects. So the latter you can throw together a bunch of “professions” such as curator, editor, manager, promoter, and I took the liberty of throwing in there “lawyer,” or at least someone who went to school to learn about boring rules that some old white farts made and keep making, and use that boring shit for purposes that matter to me: art.

-       I keep telling people, it’s OK to run around naked on the street or temporarily “steal” epic art from museums without a permit, I will get them out of jail. I’m not really kidding. Do what you need to do in the name of art, or in the name of shitting on art, and I will do the dirty work of clearing the old white farts out of your way.

Aftermath of Nyugen E. Smith's Performance at Grace Exhibition Space, Body/ Mass, Feb 7, 2014

3.     This is kind of 2.5… But I have sadly rediscovered the importance of CRITICAL art writing—you know, the kind that actually requires thinking and not reading and regurgitating pre-existing material, whether they be theory or press releases.

-       When I was told to write reviews, and when I tried to tell myself to write reviews of art later, I thought my words didn’t matter. The idiots who try very hard to get published will get published and I don’t want to fight with idiots to gain exposure over them because I am too smart for that kind of survival soul-selling bullshit… is what I told myself to make myself feel better about not being able to write a book of philosophy or poetry or new theory on the state of art in OUR generation, since I am still young and all.

-       BUT after removing “art criticism” as a serious obligation from my own plate, I noticed more and more bullshit regurgitation passing as “criticism.” I cannot stand it!

Sadly, what pushed me to the point of this, verbal response, is working on the other side: being a promoter of the creation, and not the “press” or “consumer” or “critic.”

I wrote and edited most of the English-language press kit material for a film recently, including the synopsis and press release.

A review was just published after the film’s screening at Berlin. What do I see? Copy, paste, and rearrangement of what I had written and edited a thousand times in the press kits.

You think I don’t recognize my own words, buddy? Or maybe you think because there is no name on there, a press release just magically appeared. Oh, I guess that’s what you think an “intern” stands for… so many anonymous and over-qualified writers and thinkers working as “interns,” producing promotional texts for “critics” and “journalists” to regurgitate as their own original evaluation of an artist’s work.

Fine.

But to actually recognize someone rearrange MY WORDS, then publish it as a “review” made me realize that, shit, that is what everyone else does all the time.

Geraldo Mercardo Performing at Grace Exhibition Space, Body / Mass, Feb 7, 2014

Where is real art criticism? Where are all the critics, REAL thinkers at?

Stop publishing bullshit, because real thinkers are not damn machines that can churn out real words in real time. Creative thinkers don’t work on Facebook time, Twitter time, or at least in depth anyway. Pay writers for giving thought to their work, not for reproducing bullshit.

Give real writers and thinkers a good chance to contribute to artistic discourse. The kind where relationships happen on a genuine level.

BRING BACK ART CRITICISM!