Stories of Southeast Asia and Latin America”

Provided by National Gallery of Singapore

Rumor has it that sometime in the mid-20th century, Mexican muralist Diego Rivera happened to meet Filipino painter Victorio Edades somewhere in New York City. This famous encounter revolved around a formative conversation about the political power of murals, with both artists passionately discussing how to depict their respective revolutions. Although there is no actual evidence that this meeting actually took place, the tropical alliance that this story suggests galvanized artists for generations to come.

And the mural that Edades painted with Gallo B. Ocampo and Carlos “Boton” Francisco.mother nature’s blessings (1935) – Opens “Tropical: Stories of Southeast Asia and Latin America” at the National Gallery of Singapore. The exhibition survey shared the formal and political sensibility of his two tropical regional arts, all produced in the 20th century. The trio borrowed motifs from Mexican muralists in their fellow colony, Spain, to depict the Philippine Revolution. Both groups depict scenes packed with workers, their bodies rendered sturdy and statuesque, forming an overall composition.

This mural is hanging nearby poble pescador (The Poor Fisherman), 1896, by Paul Gauguin, the notorious French painter of Tahitian landscapes. In “Tropical”, Gauguin claims to have instilled in the minds of many people the typical images of the tropics: a peaceful paradise, endless summer, lazy natives, and free love. The final song, “Free Love,” is a violent distortion emanating from a man who uses his young bride as his muse. But instead of canceling Gauguin completely, “Tropical” positioned his work as an issue that many tropical artists were grappling with. eat, pray, lovethe best-selling memoir written by Elizabeth Gilbert about her stay in Bali after her divorce, is included in the library of tropical literature featured as part of the show for similar reasons.

Many of the paintings here contest how pastoral imagery is intertwined with various projects of colonialism. Colonialism uses images of lush lands full of untapped resources to justify occupation. A group of these landscapes are hung in a device designed by Brazilian architect Lina Bo Bardi, an icon of tropical modernism. For a museum she designed in São Paulo, she placed her paintings on transparent vertical panels attached to concrete blocks. She wanted her pieces not to be arranged in a straight line, but in what she called “a wonderful intertwining.” These devices place the labels behind the paintings rather than next to them, so walking around can delay sorting mixed pieces into their own areas. Instead, you have to pay attention to their affinities – chief among them is a palette of jewel shades, with rusty oranges and royal blues extending from lush emeralds.

In most cases, these works reject the idea of ​​a frontier land full of lazy natives with scenes depicting workers, busy streets, and active humans. It stands out for its vibrant streetscapes by S. Sudjojono, the founder of Indonesian modernism. He insisted on the political power of painting, constantly reminding people that the art of painting originated in Egypt, not Europe, and that painting was not a tool for masters.

The most provocative pastoral riff comes from Semsar Siahan, a nine-foot version of Manet. Olympia It shows a naked blonde woman lounging in sunglasses and heels, sipping on a flower-adorned coconut. In her 1987 rendition of Sia Khan, dozens of locals surround her, flocking from the lands around her to dote, point, and stare. Her brown legs extend out from under her bed, right next to her suitcase, as if the man who carried her luggage also offered himself as an ottoman. Another of Siahan’s works is a series of sculptures fired by the Indonesian artist. They were first made by teachers at the Bandung Academy of Arts and are a blend of traditional and European techniques. Siahan protested this effort to “modernize” Indonesian art by setting her wooden works on fire.

In addition to breaking stereotypes, there is also a section dedicated to self-portraits. Here and everywhere, art history icons are paired with lesser-known artists. Particularly striking combinations include a 1945 photo of Mexican artist Frida Kahlo being held by a monkey. This pair of primates wear matching chartreuse hair ribbons. Kahlo’s painting is displayed next to Patrick Ng Caron’s 1958 self-portrait of her. Kahlo, a Chinese man born in Kuala Lumpur, portrays herself as a Malay woman in a provocative meditation on identity, which was unusual for the time. The pieces visually rhyme, sharing brown and gold, with both artists staring straight ahead, framed by bushy eyebrows.

Another memorable moment of self-expression comes in the form of an interview filmed in the 1960s. Ni Polok was an Indonesian dancer who was the muse and later wife of Adrien-Jean Le Mayeur de Malpes, a Belgian artist who painted idyllic Balinese landscapes. She is dancing in the center. We see not his canvases, but an interview with Pollock, in a scene summarizing the show, where he is asked whether he considers Bali a tropical paradise. “No,” she answered. “I was just born here.”