The night has fallen, a light drizzle has just passed. Wet roads, tired
faces, strangers hurried by. Our journeys have ended, or have they just
begun?
Artist's Statement: Rachna Anand
I was transplanted from India to Singapore in 1984. The aesthetics and
sensibilities of art have been my constant companions for as long as I
can remember. I have been very fortunate to have been nurtured in a family
where self expression; creativity and discussions on philosophy and poetry
were the norm. My life's search for the eternal truth is a very lonely
pursuit and art and photography are my companions. They help me to articulate
and interpret my thoughts. It is a constant struggle to be true to myself,
to be able to express my experiences of the moment, the atmosphere and
all my senses. Photography liberates me. It's amazing how the lens removes
all barriers. Suddenly there is no distance between me and the subject.
Being a married woman, I usually only have time for my photography at
night, after I have done my job as a wife and mom. I have tried to capture
the night as I see it as a woman venturing out alone in the late hours.
This is my Night Shift.
Artist's Statement: Teo Chee Sern
When I was 17, my friend's father gave his old National Geographic magazines
to me. I was instantly impressed by the kind of visuals the world has
to offer. I set out to travel as much as I could, only that I never came
back with the same kind of pictures. Frustrated, and after long consideration,
I decided to invest in an SLR when I turned 21 and I have never looked
back since.
Low Life was born out of my curiosity about space in land-scarced Singapore.
It used to be just the underground passes. Then the MRT. Then the basement
1,2,3 and so on of the shopping arcades. Now we have the Link Mall. Reclaimation
as gone as far as it can. Has the underground become part of Singaporeans'
daily life? I went to find out ...
Introduction by Tay Kay Chin
Any outsider looking into one of our classes could well mistook it for
a religious retreat. On the eight occasions that we met, we never finished
on time. Neither did we get much done. It is not surprising that some
people have described our journey as recreational. Going by the numbers,
this is a rough breakdown: 70% talking, 10% reading, 10% coffee breaks,
9% editing, 1% hands-on demo. Not content with our little gatherings,
we invited to our meetings Bruce Davidson, W. Eugene Smith, Brassai, Chang
Chien Chi, and a few others. We talked about life, death, race, money,
sex, politics, career and family. Occasionally, we bitched about people
we know. Now we know why only two persons enrolled for this course (we
don’t like to mention that one left half-way after trying to put
up with us). More numbers: Chee Sern turned up one day with 20 ideas,
of course we didn’t manage to finish discussing even three. Rachna
bought an idea from Chee Sern, except she didn’t pay with money,
but instead she just had to listen to Chee Sern whine :) However, our
little private excursion was interrupted when concerned parents complained
that their kids were having too much fun. To calm their fears, I had to
do a “live” demo on fill-in flash in the opposition heartland
- Potong Pasir. Before we know it, the course came to an end.
To prove their innocence, Rachna & Chee Sern decided to do this exhibition.
They actually requested that I exhibit with them but I said, “How
can? I Hasselblad master you know.” So, I compromised by agreeing
to pen this little note. No, seriously, I am delighted to have participated
in this little experiment. Some kind souls have warned me many times before
that my ideas and methods are too radical for Singapore. I was told that
Singaporeans don’t read, thus the readings I assigned would not
be followed. Not only did they read but they came back class after class
with their own views, resulting in lively exchanges and debates. I told
the duo countless times that good photographers always have original ideas
and always have something to say. I hope that you will agree with me that
their works are, at the very minimum, attempts to have a voice.
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