Paintings | Art

Whoever said art was only for the rich who can afford it?

Increasingly, 'exquisite' art pieces are becoming accessible to the mass public. When I visited the Musee d'Orsay exhibits at the National Museum of Singapore this morning, there were a school of 6-year-old kids, tourists and young professionals like me, appreciating the pieces.

To some, it is an indulgent endeavor, that is fulfilled, only when the demands of life's realities are met (with family status, background, etc), but to others, it is an exploration of the essence of human nature. (Granted, are gray shades of perspectives in between.)

For me, art is a venue for insight and reflection. Perhaps due to my ignorance and the lack or prior knowledge about Art, viewing the pieces open up spaces for me to escape into my inner world; and of course, I am a sucker for poetic/romantic observation of light, colour and life, so that's something else that draws me to different forms of visual art.

"Colour is my obsession; my joy and torment." -Monet.
This was the painting of his wife on her deathbed. Who paints a dying person-- not to mention a loved one?! But I have learnt (through my relativist perspective) not to judge too quickly.


Woman by the Beach/Jetty by Steers.

My favorite piece from the exhibition. I could go on poetically about this piece but I am trying to drown that voice in me, at least for now, so I would stop at describing this piece as one that relates to me most-- a clam, independent, reflective woman figure by the water. (:

Intelligence...

... is a state-of being, guided by the desire to achieve goals and ambitions; and fueled the determination and pragmatism to achieve those targets.

ORD lorh!!

When was the last time I did a photo post? Been pretty bad at keeping this blog updated (as I settle into the routines of work life) but my brother's ORD day calls for a post.

Took this with my Nikon camera I bought 2 years ago. The camera is good for large landscape shots during the day but not so good with night settings or motions. But I kinda like this picture, taken at dusk.

Clay

The mind, malleable as clay, is molded by the learning environment.

My four years at Carleton, has been that learning environment. Then, my mind has been stretched to conceptualize abstractions, hardened to give weight to arguments I was making. It also took the form I never imagined it would, when I embarked on the challenge of combing the tools of anthropology and political science for my senior thesis.

Now, three months after graduation, I face yet another challenge of softening the hardened clay once again so it can fit into the mold required for my work at TRP, which requires understanding a lot of country-level data, and statistics. This kind of thinking is no doubt very important, should one aspire to understand the vast political and economic landscape of the region or the world. But I can't help but stop wondering if, in my quest to see this 'bigger picture,' I might loose the small, and fine details (social dynamics, cultures, psychologies) I have worked so hard to focus on at Carleton.

Certainly, depth and breath are not mutually exclusive and one does not have to trade the breadth of knowledge for depth. However, it is possible that skills we don't use regularly will be weathered and dulled eventually; that a clay left to air will loose its malleability.

My challenge now, apart from learning to shift the thinking framework to a broader one, will be to find out ways in which I can (secure) the details of the pictures, to remember the shape of my molded clay at Carleton, so that I can retain the shape of both forms and remain flexible.

rambling on changes

People change when they grow up: that's a pretty obvious (duh) statement.

But in riding these currents of change with time, how are we to assess whether this change is good or bad, desirable or not?

Looking back on my last couple of years, I am very thankful for the intellectual growth and experiences that I have had, but I am still left grappling with the cultural relativism ideology I have been conditioned to embrace, from being an cross-cultural studies student and an anthropologist.

In addressing change (in personal life, ideologies, or habits), perhaps the question we should really ask is (not whether these changes are good or bad) whether or not the changes that we have been through are applicable to the present (the current and surrounding environment or institutions, as defined by Ostrom). I say this because often, those who have lived in many different places, who claim to be victims of dislocation, face the problem of applying the adopted practices and habits to root them down to where they presently are. The conflict arises when the past and present-- two seemingly different worlds, categorzsed separately in the victim's mind-- collide. And how the victim analyzes this collision also depends on his/her frame of mind which is also affected by his/her surroundings or atmosphere.

So really, people change all the time, and to say that someone has changed for the better is an imposition of one's own standards (of goodness) onto another person's. But in making this statement, I am also aware that my thinking has shifted sides to the existentialist, relativist mindset, which some would misinterpret to be 'emo.'

So do I switch back to being 'pragmatic' and stop thinking these immaterial questions and fit right in with my atmosphere? Or is there really a venue for these thoughts to be applied to a more meaningful endeavor? Either way, there is no right or wrong answer but just how the answer is analyzed. It will be a happy ending, with lenses of analysis.

11.07.11

How could a photographer get by without a proper DSLR?

For four years, I have done just that! The first time I learnt how to use a DSLR was by getting a crash course from my work supervisor (yes, I was hired as a photographer without any skills and knowledge on DSLRs) with a Nikon D100.

I started taking photos for school events as a student photographer. In my second year of college, I took a Digital Photography class with John Schott and learnt how to use Adobe Photoshop. I also took a film photography course with Linda Rossi.

I have been using a Nikon P80 for the past three years, and have been very fortunate to have traveled and shot photographs in about 10 different countries, guided by my international development academic framework. (Some of my work is recorded in the blog, Half a year in Africa. But today, on the eleventh of July, two-thousand and eleven (11.07.11), I got my very own DSLR!

Here it is (:


Now, I have graduated from college and I am going to give myself a breather from direct involvement with international development issues. But I am keen to find out how the two main interests that I pursed at Carleton -- photography and international development-- play an important but peripheral role in my post-Carleton life! (:

From Carleton Utopita to the Real World

Tomorrow is Carleton's class of 2011's first month as alums. It would also have marked the end of my much-awaited first week in Shanghai, living the 'real' life. Instead, I am writing this from the comfort of my (parents') home in Singapore.

The delay in commencing on my new job is frustrating for two main reasons. Firstly, the situation is a relapse of what happened to me when I was eleven, leaving for an excursion to Malaysia with my primary 6 classmates and many other attempts at my overseas trips. Because of my passport, I have to go through the hassle of sorting out the paperwork and liaising with different embassies (and not to mention the cost) in order to apply for visas. So, when my passport becomes an obstruction for me to start my much anticipated job out of college, I was bitter. But it also make me realize how the real world, unlike Carleton can be unfair and brutal-- one just has to live with it.

The second reason why staying home, jobless becomes detrimental to my mental well-being is because I lack such purpose and structure in life. For the last 4 years at Carleton, I became so accustomed to 'doing' things, being intellectually stimulated that having to count the hours down to the next day is extremely painful. So, I started looking for temporary jobs, both to pass time (in the process of looking) and in hopes to pass more time when I get one.

Last Friday (July 8th) and today, I spent four hours distributing flyers to advertise luxury apartments for a property developer company. Now, in doing that job, I came to learn the few of many differences between Carleton and the 'real world' mentality. At Carleton, I would say that many people are non-judgmental (and less materialistic) about the prestige attached to a certain kind of job. We have students working as custodians who clean carpets and toilets, mailing staff that deliver letters rain or shine and admission fellows who have to wear professional clothes and be representatives of Carleton to prospective students. But no matter what the job entails or no matter what we are required to wear for our job, no one discriminates the other based on the 'prestige' attached to the job. (Besides, we get paid the same salary too.) But when I told a friend that I was distributing flyers to pass time, I got a dismissive 'Oh?' as a response.

When I was distributing flyers, I got to get to know a few of the sales agents from this developer company (my supervisors) and a few polytechnic students (who worked with me). While agents' conversation centered around the type of cars their colleagues drive and the salary they earn, all the poly technique students thought about was how they could do the minimum amount of work and still get paid.

I didn't think I would miss Carleton and the genuine, intellectually curious, and non-materialistic nature of the people as much as I do now (one month out of college). But I do. And I am starting to realize all the things I took for granted in the Utopia, the privileges and benefits we received as private liberal arts undergrads.

The transition into the real world would be hard and it would take some adjustments--ones that would be made easier if we conform. But to throw away what we have been showered with for our personal and intellectual growth in the last four years is to be short-sighted. It is tempting to settle into the safe professional career path that entices us with high-starting pays, benefits and the 'prestige' that is attached to a job title but I worry that I might loose sight of the other things that matter--being around kind, intelligent people, having the motivation and drive to continue learning and most importantly, being consumed by greed; Greed for prestige and money which could so easily engulf us from pursuing our passions and satisfying our curiosities.

In a conversation with my younger brother last week, he said "don't let money dictate/control your lifestyle. If you are good at what you do, money will follow." I think that could be very true.

Defogged Fatigue Vision

For the past year, a thought fogs my mind: why do I not enjoy photography as much as I had before (Jan 2010, when I just returned to Carleton from Kenya)?

In my attempts to answer this question, I came up with many hypotheses-
-when I was at home, I thought I was just a complacent observer, cushioned by the comforts of home
-when I was in Australia, I thought I was searching for things that are not there-- epiphanies on life and development that so easily found everywhere I looked in Africa.
-when I was back at Carleton, I thought I was bored from taking the same kinds of shots, in the same kinds of settings, from the same angles, with the same camera settings.

Well, I am throwing another speculation into the mix-- may be it is not photography that I am good at, but seeing things when I am in different places; here, I don't refer to places in spatial terms, but rather, places that challenge the mental space, places where presuppositions are questioned, places people's perspectives (originating from a different coordinate) intersect with my own.

That's where I am attentive, observant, creative, inspired.


This thought seem to settle my puzzle on my fatigued vision behind the camera lenses for the last year. But for how long?

June 11-19

It has been a week of vacationing.. All I do all day is to laze around and drifting time like a dandelion does in the wind, and land with the soft weight of my thoughts when the time comes for the next important decision --what to eat.

Oh, what a life and how thankful I am to lead it.. If only temporarily. (: actually, only temporarily because I cannot drift for long.

First Fashion show Shoot

I hadn't shot fashion shows before, and it was a lot of fun shooting catwalks for the first time on Friday. The multi-coloured lights in the background and the models constant actions kept me on my toes.. and made the shoot a lot more engaging and challenging.

By the end of it, my right wrist was tired from holding the Nikon D300 (with 70-105mm lenses) up but it was well worth it.

Ragamala Dance Performance at Carleton

Ragamala Dance troupe put up a 90-minute performance at Carleton College.

[ B r a c k e t i n g ]

Bracketing is used in photography to create certainty-- overexposing and underexposing a shot by one stop to make sure that you get a good exposure, or rather more choices.

Intriguingly, my last few weeks at Carleton seems like a closing bracket. As I go through my days, I find myself reflecting on the beginnings at Carleton and observe that events (and my state of being) then is like a mirror replica of how I am now. (Of course, this replica is not exactly symmetrical).

But I fear that this closing bracket would make inaccessible the knowledge I captured at Carleton in the past 4 years.

unsynched cycles

It is spring again.

I remember very vividly, photographing a tree outside of Asia house last year, when its first reds started to appear in late March.

Yesterday, I saw the same pattern--two months later in the cycle of the year. I guess the earth doesn't have to follow the calendar times that humans impose on it.

Light and Colour Returns

When I brought my COMPS books to the library return desk today, I feel like a huge, heavy wet blanket was lifted. Abigail Han and Kenneth Lum who was with me to witness the 'ceremony.' Was kind enough to put up with my dramatization.

But really, undertaking this academic endeavor was a rather long and daunting process. I think I wanted to do it well and so I ended up sacrificing some aspects of my life to it. But I am I did it (because I know I would not want to go through it again) and glad that I am now moving onto a different phase of life.

The Texture of Memory

Memories, like photographs help us save our pasts for the future. But unlike photographs, memories are not packed into four defined edges of a picture frame. Fluid as clouds, memories float about in our mindscapes.

Searching for memories can be an elusive and disorienting task. The stairs we climb to ascend up the clouds of memory might, instead, lead us down. Entrapped in the soft, hazy texture of memories from our distant pasts, the cloud of illusiveness erodes the depth of perception for vivid remembrance.

But all we need to conjure is a trace, an outline, a clue, to start the synthesis of memories. Take that clue by hand and pull it out to distill the picture. As this memory becomes clearer and more definite, we will start seeing the fine details within that frame of memory: (in this case), the cold, hard feet of the bench that lend strength in its defiance against gravity, the delicate curvatures of the bench’s metallic hand that contradicts its apparent durability. Although clarity develops, the hazy shadows of uncertain steps stay watermarked in the backdrop, inhibiting a sharp focus on the details we try to remember.

Searching


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Parallel to photography, the synthesis of memories is extremely time sensitive. But unlike developing a photograph (where longer exposure composes a darker picture), fragile memories dissolve with time. Therefore, we need to allow just the appropriate amount of time for memories to be crystallized after the haze has cleared.

Synthesis

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Once this stage is done, details from memories become more organized; and within that frame emerges exquisite textures: the balance of nature and how light that illuminates the bench uses its power to create dense, empty spaces of the shadows. Notice these empty shadows’ disguise. As if they were a part of the bench’s bottom, the shadows flow into the very objects that sheltered light from them. Like these dark empty shadows blending onto reality effortlessly, the thin film between framed and floating memory is hard to develop.

Emerging

where I have been

1. Male, Asia


2. Mui Ne, Vietnam

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Splish Splosh- Through the mud

When I was up at the Blue Mountains with my family in December 2008, I remember looking through the windows of the tour bus, at the backpackers on the railway platform. They were people who traveled without having to stick to the schedule of the tour [20minutes photo here, 30minutes walk there etc.]


This weekend, I was one of them- traveling with a backpack, spending a night at the hostel and getting back on the train at my own time.

While there, I also hiked to the 'ruined castle,' a place that I had badly wanted to go when I was there with my family but couldn't because of the tour schedule. It was a 6 hour hike (about 12km round trip).

We first descended to the bottom of the blue mountains through stairs. Along that descent, we saw waterfalls and breathtaking views of the blue mountains. That was the trails (either convicts or miners) took when they were working in the mines, decades ago (possibly in the 1800s).

When we got to the bottom, the air was dense with rainforest humidity; the forest floor wet with mud, soaked in rain. As we spished and sploshed through the mud, I wondered how much my mother (who used to be a mountain hiker) would have appreciated this hike. I also wondered how fun it would have been if my brothers where there with me. (I think coming back to Sydney wouldn't have been bad, bros).

The rainforest ceiling cleared up after about an-hour of walking and we got to a barren, rocky terrain. Dodging through the cracks of the rocks and stepping up and down, we walked through those rocks and admired the colors and textures...

Then, it was splishing and sploshing again in the mud trail before reaching the peak, the 'ruined castle,' which is a rock structure that we had to boulder up. The view from up there is just amazing. An expense of rainforests and blue mountains, a river meandering through the valley. I felt like we (me, Niko, and Colleen) were the only human beings on earth then!


Three hikers at the top of ruined castle.



Colleen climbing through the cracks to the ruined castle.




Me at the bottom of ruined castle. See the enthusiasm on my face?


The view from the top and my mud-dyed shoes.



When I

SOAP -- an Opera

When Peter Brandon, the director of this study-abroad program suggested that we should try to catch a play or a show at the Sydney Opera House, I thought it was kinda like suggesting "you could try to ride on air-force-one," or something that is nice-to-say but never really realizable.

Well, I am glad that was proven wrong! Today, we went to watch the show, SOAP at the Sydney Opera house. It was a 75 minute display of human strength and grace... there were acrobats, jugglers, and people who danced up and down ropes (not really sure what they are called.)

The show went by so fast that I wished it had been twice as long. And knowing that I usually cannot sit through movies or shows without falling asleep or yawning, that was something!



Colleen, Niko, Lila (niko's friend) and me, outside the theatre at Sydney Opera House.

Getting a drink by the bar on the waterfront.
(Lila, Lily, Beth and Niko.)