Singapore Biennale 2006 (part 2) - A hot and high weekend outing but my sinful lesbian love is censored.

Last day of school, busy and dusty, I could hardly breathe after finishing cleaning up the classroom. Luckily, Densha Otoko special package download was finally completed, meaning I would have something to watch in Friday’s night which is the moment I treasure the most in a week. It also says that the whole next entry will be dedicated to Densha Otoko (again?)…Muahaha!

Okey, let’s get down to stuff I wanna show you guys today.
Firstly, it is the Singapore Biennale 2006 Exhibition at National Museum that I have a chance to attend by shamelessly tagging along with my IP arts seniors and occupying one whole seat on that stuffy bus whereas the other had to squeeze themselves up. Haiz. Guilty, guilty, but what could I do? Run after the bus? No way!

Back to the Exhibition, it was not as cool as in the Tanglin Camp because the eerie atmosphere of an abandoned complex of discipline and order could not be present in places like National Museum. On the other hand, it was replaced by something so high-class and grand. Everything including the corridor, the ceiling, the lamp and the escalators in the National Museum seem to be magnified twice or even thrice than usual. The Victorian deco adds in some classic touches which, in a way, are very suitable for the most prominent piece displayed inside “The last supper”. The theme came in set with a colossal black-and-white Leonard-de-Vinci’s-“The last supper” (Hiroshi Sugimoto)-inspired photograph and a documentary titled “The last supper” (Bigert & Bergström) with the content so much more surprising than what people expect from the title.
The photography is just a more simplified version of the painting with an extraordinary translation from painting to portrait photo.


Expressions are reserved but meaning is innovated due to different usage of tone, lighting and symbols. Unfortunately, I did not have enough time to perceive thoroughly the concept so that’s all I could say about it.
However, the documentary deserves all the attention it gets for every run. It is really a “feast” for thought. The documentary discusses different moral aspects of “The last supper” for prisoners on the death row in relation to the religious connotation of the original Da-Vinci’s “The last supper”. Does the last supper really fulfill the prisoners’ final request in their life? Do the prisoners really bother to choose what to eat before execution? Is it just a way to show accusers’ little mercy on the accused? Is it just to help the accusers to avoid seeing their “victims”, guilty or misjudged, dying solely because of them? Has the prisoners’ real final contemplation been lightly taken and reduced to a very physical term in the form of food? Does “the last supper” really do the prisoners any good when they will be executed before they can actually finish digesting anything? Thousand of questions pop up in your head as you watch the documentary. A meal has never ever been this thought-provoking like this. Tiny “fun” facts with vivid illustrations which I believe make up the aesthetic side of the documentary are provided in the midst of the interviews, drawing out the most attentive engagement from viewers. I definitely will spend money on the DVD, VCD or whatever it is if the documentary is ever released.

Nevertheless, my favourite work is “Harakiri schoolgirls” (Aida Makoto) with extreme gory yet elegant figures only found in Japanese suicide orgy (seppuku) or survival of the fittest thrillers.




This work reminds me of Suicide Club or Battle Royale where blood-flowing, flesh-slicing and intestines-bursting scenes occupy three quarter of the movies. I normally cannot bring myself to watch that kind of things but usually happen to be dragged in front of the TV/laptop and scolded for not gluing my eyes onto the screen by some blood-thirsty sadistic horror-lovers. My life is deemed that way then. Back to the piece: nice posture, weirdly happy facial expressions, rainbow-coloured organs. Apparently, there are more enjoyments than sufferings. I think the painting represents a current issue in Japan but I am not so sure which one it is, group suicide? Maybe! I just like the picture in its humorous way.

Another special-like-any-others piece is “Prayer Carpet” (Xu Bing).



English words are written in form of Chinese characters which is not so new since I have seen quite a handful of calligraphers did that.



But only Xu Bing is capable of writing holy Buddhist text passages that way on a carpet, letting people step on it and then later raising a wave of controversy. Arts and controversy were not born twins but grow up becoming twins, depending how big the artists’ gut is. Nevertheless, the piece is impressive and intelligent.

Tech-arts are something new and remarkable in this exhibition. However, it can happen in two ways: supreme cool (Mariko Mori – “Tom Na H-iu”)


or misunderstood (Carsten Nicolai – “syn chron”).


The latter holds a quite strong meaning, especially to scientific fiction addicts but somehow, it is seriously misinterpreted by superficial limited “thinker” like me. I think it is more like a huge version of mosquito light trap rather than the redefinition of space, time and frequency like what it is supposed to be. Poor me! I refuse to be intellectual

I am not so sure if this is one of the artwork or not but I think It is so cool. I feel as if I am living in Mars!





After the show, I got back with Van. We were strolling down Mc Donald in Plaza Singapura and bumped into this band called “Prior to Everything”. First impression was quite good and welcoming. The vocal was pretty. The guitarist was sexy and the seeming keyboardist looked oh-my-fucking-gosh damn cute. But when they started playing, the whole planet called earth fell apart. The vocal was overreacting in a desperate way to get attention. I got sick and tired of the main guitarist’s strumming and playing some irrelevant guitar lick. I mean he was good but his style was just too monotonous. He needs a change, a quick refresh since it is such a failure to make the audience uninterested only within a gig. And he should know that not all the songs can be played in acoustic style. I strongly protested “Bring me to life”-Evanescence to be played unplugged with the same arrangement from the original. If it is acoustic, if it is unplugged, it should be re-written, re-arranged in the exact acoustic, unplugged style. Want an example: Check out The Cardigans’ work: studio and puck versions of the same song are two totally different masterpieces. OK, you guys have a long way to go before reaching The Cardigans'level and more likely, never be able to make it at all but pls, try to work it out.
Anyway, I think this is a nice unplugged rendition of Lovefool (not done by Cardigans though T_T). It sounds new since no one has ever done a cover of it before, at least, this good as I remember.



And the most bitter thing of the night is my cute seeming keyboardist is actually a drummer who plays/was playing drum on a keyboard. Damn! Can they at least afford an electric drumset? It is so unprofessional and turn-off to see someone play drum with only two fingers. Only the bassist managed to save the whole band. Anyway, all the best for their near future. ENJOY Prior to Everything pls



Climax of the night: Van and I officially announced our lesbian relationship in front of some dozens people having meals at Mc Donald that night. But that strict censorship all Singaporean have already learned by heart prevented us from doing so. Basically, we sent a request slip to the band with a very simple message “ You will always be in my heart, my sweetie girlfriend, Van” followed by “From your girlfriend, 2”. But, wtf, the singer concealed my identity, saying that I was “a guy, uhm, not really a guy”…and she could not even read my name “this guy has no name”. What hell? Since when people changed the way they pronounce “2”. “2” is “2”, not “Brahamadha” or “Swchenggered”. No excuse for not being able to pronounce my short-form name except illiteracy. Here is the vid of our sinful confession. The names were not recorded down due to our safety. We still have school life. Pain in the ass.



Just kidding. I am straight!