The Second Asia-Pacific Triennial of Contemporary Art exhibition catalogue (APT2)

China: how everyone quaked with the pot shots at Taiwan this year. Forget the poor Karen or the EastTimorese-those are merely sideshows. This China business is real and big. Singapore now promotes its Chineseness; and Prime Minister Mahathir talks of Malaysia being part of 'East Asia'. The world is changing. For a culturally sensitive Malaysia, espousing cultural closeness to East Asia, and its 'Asian', that is, traditional, Confucian values, is an indication of the strength of this position. The overseas Chinese are seen as the main network of the future. Some say non-Chinese must join this network, somehow, to survive, usually by having Chinese partners. (Equally, others say this is too simplistic and to espouse it is to make it self-fulfilling. However, it is taken seriously.) 1 Where and how will this affect current cultural networks? Will there be a counterswing to conservative values? The overseas Chinese, like many emigrants, are often nostalgic for old, sometimes long-lost, values of the motherland. Singapore, Hong Kong and Taiwan have all built edifices to cultural solidity, often with large sums of money. As one would suspect they all place Chinese traditional culture highly: the Ming vase, the embroidered coat, the Tang horse, and the jade tree take pride of place-all the collectables of Arts ofAsia, Oriental Art and Orientations, all nostalgic for the past. The lingering hierarchies of culture in Asia must feel reassured by this. Contemporary art is often difficult to find in these countries, with nothing like the government support which Australian artists, for example, enjoy. More pertinently, it is even more difficult to find the culture of China of this century in these collections. Where is the art of revolution? Where is the art of Mao? The only time we see Mao in the Chinese context is by dissident artists using the images of revolution for post-modern critiques. Even in China, the viewer cannot see either 'international' art or the art of revolution. It is all calligraphy, brush painting and academic oil-the art of the conservative, and, for the outsider in 1996, truly uncomfortable. Alison Carroll,Arts Manager,TheAsialink Centre, Melbourne, Australia 1 Iam indebtedfor conversationswith Helen Durham on this Australia and Asia- Uncommon Canvas? Neil Manton Much has been written about Australia and its place in the region in which some eighteen million people now find themselves living as Australians. A huge land mass, only the fringe of which could be said to be inhabited; a European island in the Asia– Pacific seas; the 'odd man in' or even the 'odd man out', in regional social and cultural terms. Australians, curious by nature and perhaps by geography, have always taken an interest in their neighbours and, in the visual arts alone, I have found evidence of long-term exchanges of exhibitions and visits by artists from at least 1948 when Australia sent an exhibition of works by leading contemporary artists to Pakistan. It later travelled to India, Ceylon [Sri Lanka) and 'the Malay States'. Two major Australian exhibitions toured the region in 1962 and 1969. In return, Malaysia sent a large collection of works to Australia in 1969.This is not to say that these were the only activities, but they were major shows. But the engagement was spasmodic. We were possibly curiosities in each other's galleries and museums and the body of writing on each other's art was all but non-existent. My observation is that the thing that kept Australia and Asia at arm's length was, in the end, the thing that brought us together-Europe. Historically, Australia and most of its neighbours were all beneficiaries of colonial largesse. If Australia had anything in common with Singapore and Malaysia it was its shared British heritage and education, whilst Indonesia looked to Holland, The Philippines to Spain (later the United States), and the lndochinese states to France. At one time the shared impression was that all roads led to Paris. In 1988 I went to a number of countries in South– East Asia with a group of distinguished art experts -Betty Churcher, David Williams, and Tim Jacobs. We were sent to look for opportunities for a greater Australian engagement. We went prepared to observe, listen and learn, which we did-and we seized with glee the 'commonalities not differences' we saw: a shared history of colonial domination; a European vision of our landscape; flora and fauna; and artist concern for the environment, the human condition and rural-urban drift etc. But the language used was a European language and the vision we saw for the future was still a European-based vision. Discussion of a contem– porary 'Asian' art was at best tentative and, if the truth be known, I suspect we had trouble identifying what was 'Australian' about art from this country. The visit, and the subsequent report, was however, a very significant one, as Australian Government art bodies, art institutes and one major department (Foreign Affairs and Trade) had clearly identified an Asian option for Australia's future cultural development. There was not, however, universal acceptance of these new directions. When I look back now, the convergence of interests-by no means complete today-took less time than I had imagined, as a program of familiarisation visits by artists, art teachers and writers (in both directions), opened up a dialogue which has, particularly since 1993, only accelerated. But the language of our dialogue was still markedly European. In 1993 the Queensland Art Gallery hosted the first of its Triennials and brought together artists, writers and scholars. A careful look at that event and the publications which followed it would, I suggest, show that the language was changing. Several commen– tators noted that there was evidence of a shift from the periphery. A new confidence, new visions, and the beginnings of a new language. Since then much has happened and I believe that in the 1996 Triennial we will hear more of this new language. In Kwok Kian-Chow's fascinating Channels and Confluences: A History of Singapore Art, he reveals much about the development of 'new' intra-Asian art movements or styles, such as the Nanyang style, the influence of the Shanghai school of ink painting and the XINGUOHUA (new Chinese painting). That venerable master of Singapore art, Liu Kang, told me in 1995 that he did not see any of the developments taking place in his art in the years from 1930 to 1960 as being of any school or 'ism'. Exposed, as he and his colleagues were, to any number of Asian and European influences, he saw their work as simply reflecting their new surroundings after their move from the traditional culture and landscape of China. Colours were brighter and stronger, vegetation and other shapes were seen with different eyes in an almost primitive (uncluttered?) response to the new land. Perhaps this period and the works produced by artists in Singapore and elsewhere in the region should be re-examined to determine whether there may not have been an 'Asian' art born, or at least, conceived. Kwok Kian-Chow tells us that even earlier, in 1898, the Chinese Reform Movement argued the principle of 'Western outer shell and Chinese inner kernel'. Perhaps in 1996 in Brisbane we shall see the (Asian) inner kernel break out of the shell. At the same time as Kwok Kian-Chow's catalogue was published (February 1996 for the launch of the Singapore Art Museum), TK. Sabapathy edited the catalogue for a second show-'Modernity and Beyond,Themes in Southeast Asian Art'. Sabapathy acknowledges that critical writing on the arts had been, in the past, generally contained by national boundaries and that regional South-East Asian art in recent times had been subjected to critical examination more from outside sources (Japan, Australia and the United States) than from within. What he sought to do is to set the mark for future Es sAvs I 31