Hong Shu-Ying, Jomel, Rachel Cheng, Ryan Lim Zi Yi and Sarah Lin
By Woong Soak Teng

Without a physical building, how does an independent art space continue to nurture and present emerging practices? DECK is in a period of transition. The iconic container structure has been torn down, and the Singapore arts centre for photography is in the midst of building its brick-and-mortar gallery. In the meantime, it presents an opportunity for five young artists, Hong Shu-Ying, Jomel, Rachel Cheng, Ryan Lim Zi Yi and Sarah Lin. Rather than putting the programme on hiatus or riding the wave of digitalising exhibitions, DECK boldly unveils the 7th edition of ‘Undescribed’ at 120 Prinsep Street. An annual platform committed to support emerging artists based in Singapore, ‘Undescribed #7’ challenges each artist to venture into site-specific, larger-than-life sculptural photography upon loose gravels and exposed foundations.

Entrance of ‘Undescribed #7’ at 120 Prinsep Street. Image courtesy of DECK.

Go big or go home

Freed from the four walls of a gallery, the five works in ‘Undescribed #7’ stand in open air, day and night, rain or shine. Here, freedom comes with a new set of challenges. Bordered by towering buildings, the site demands each artist to think out of the two-dimensional and consider verticality, scale, weather-proofing and feasibility within a budget. The artists were mentored by Singapore artist Robert Zhao Renhui, with advice from design agency Practice Theory. The exhibition was realised by print house AVS Printing, harnessing knowledge across industries to tailor modular aluminium structures to the artists’ concepts.

“Here, freedom comes with a new set of challenges. Bordered by towering buildings, the site demands each artist to think out of the two-dimensional and consider verticality, scale, weather-proofing and feasibility within a budget.”

Installation photo of ‘Pilgrimage: Milk’ by Sarah Lin, 2022. Image courtesy of DECK.

Close-up of ‘Pilgrimage: Milk’, 2022. Image taken by Woong Soak Teng.

In ‘Pilgrimage: Milk’, Sarah Lin erects a 2.8-metre tall stupa-like structure inspired by her encounter with the mysterious building next to the exhibition site. Once a maternity ward in the 70s, the now-defunct building houses forgotten memories of infants. In paying homage to the enigmatic cycle of life, Sarah repeats kaleidoscopic motifs of breast milk and the feminine body on panels that envelope into a breast-like form. At its peak, a one-eyed pink statue, reminiscent of Guan Yin and Saint Teresa of Avila, perks up contemplatively. Embedded within sensualised images is a self-portrait of the artist who unabashedly declares her maternal desire for and control over motherhood. Stepping into the hemispherical structure is both a symbolic act of entering an intimate temple of worship and an acknowledgment of female power in the cycle of life.

“Embedded within sensualised images is a self-portrait of the artist who unabashedly declares her maternal desire for and control over motherhood. Stepping into the hemispherical structure is both a symbolic act of entering an intimate temple of worship and an acknowledgment of female power in the cycle of life.”

Diagonally across, another shade of pink scatters across two parallel structures in ‘national flower’ by Hong Shu-Ying. Stretched canvases bear blurry imprints of the signature plant that lines the Singapore landscape. An affectionate observation of the plant that flowers all year round in the tropical climate, Shu-Ying questions the status of bougainvillea in the famed garden city and postulates it as the ‘national flower’. It is the unique conditions of the exhibition site which spurred Shu-Ying to enlarge the work into a monumental scale. Previously published as a mini accordion book, ‘national flowers’ at ‘Undescribed #7’ plants the subject matter back into the concrete jungle and amplifies its identity to a point of abstracted obscurity.

Installation photo of ‘national flowers’ by Hong Shu-Ying, 2020 - 2021. Image courtesy of DECK.

Documentation of ‘national flowers’ by Hong Shu-Ying, an accordion photobook published in 2021. Image courtesy of the artist.

From private to public and back again

Carving an interior for introspection in the outdoors, Ryan Lim Zi Yi constructs an unassuming and semi-private room at the entrance of ‘Undescribed #7’. One doorway leads to another, merging the “inside” and “outside” and introducing porosity to an undefined open space. A monochromatic photograph perching on the wall, a carton of ceramic wall tile resting on the concrete and a grey block of text accompanying a plant that found a home in the cracks – ‘At the end of it all’ is an invitation to listen to a quiet, questioning voice pondering change, relationships, reality and existence. The beauty of the installation lies in its ability to evoke an internal monologue and contemplation despite the buzz from the street parallel to it.

Installation photo of ‘At the end of it all’ by Ryan Lim Zi Yi, 2022. Image courtesy of DECK.

A block of text found outside the structure of ‘At the end of it all’ by Ryan Lim Zi Yi, 2022. Image taken by Woong Soak Teng.

Unpolished site for polishing ideas

Working with an open ground means embracing its quirks and rawness. In the case of ‘Birth of The Screen, The Obscura and The Multi-touch’, the extensive use of textures assimilates the installation into its environment. From rocks, branches and gravel to paint, aluminium pipes and expanding foam, Jomel integrates photography with naturally found and man-made industrial materials in a commentary on the intertwined relationship between smartphones and man.

Similar to Sarah in designing her breast-stupa, Jomel represents the birthing rights of the female body, albeit in a vastly different context. With photographs pierced through their core, confined within house-like altars and connected by pipes akin to umbilical cords, ‘Birth of The Screen, The Obscura and The Multi-touch’ exudes a sense of violence and explosiveness, perhaps foreshadowing our imminent downfall to technology. Her uncanny, staged photographs collapse levels of reality, almost into a Droste effect where a recursive imagery appears in itself repeatedly to create an infinite loop. It is within this endless spiral of chaos where we might begin to question our complex connection with the digital.

Installation photo of ‘Birth of The Screen, The Obscura and The Multi-touch’ by Jomel, 2022. Image courtesy of DECK.

Close-up details of ‘Birth of The Screen, The Obscura and The Multi-touch’ by Jomel, 2022. Image taken by Woong Soak Teng.

In ‘caesura’ by Rachel Cheng, three images stand confidently on another exposed foundation block. Magnified by its scale, the photographs appear to mirror its immediate environment. From a certain angle, they almost recede into the background, fusing with earthly tones of left-behind trees and gravel. Taken during late-night dérives in pursuit of light, the landscapes reflect the bodily and psychological displacement of the artist after attending an online programme in the U.S. time zone for ten months. The current trio at ‘Undescribed #7’ sparks curiosity about Rachel’s night adventures in the city, and leaves the visitor wanting more.

Installation photo of ‘caesura’ by Rachel Cheng, 2022. Image courtesy of DECK.

“Walking on the unpolished plot with overgrown weeds and leftover bricks, I thought about how growth is often an unruly process and that this land, stripped of any structure and organisation, has become such a wonderful playground for experimentation and unexpected discovery.”

Since its inauguration in 2016, this might be the most honest edition of ‘Undescribed’ yet. While we are left to imagine what DECK will soon become on 120 Prinsep Street, we stand on the same ground to encounter the potentials of five emerging artists. Walking on the unpolished plot with overgrown weeds and leftover bricks, I thought about how growth is often an unruly process and that this land, stripped of any structure and organisation, has become such a wonderful playground for experimentation and unexpected discovery.

‘Undescribed #7’ takes place at 120 Prinsep Street between 18 March to 23 April 2022. Tune in to the Facebook livestream of the artist talk on 14 April at 9pm here.

If you wish to support DECK’s crowdfunding for its permanent arts centre for photography, contribute to the #BUILDDECK fund here.