Painting the town dead

Post-Biennale, Singaporeis suffering from a seriouscase of art-festival fatigue. Tania De Rozario pleas for quality over dumbed-down, money-spinning quantity

Whatever happened to modest exhibitions offering art, plain and simple – and perhaps some cheap snacks if you’re lucky? By the time August rolled around, I was choking on festival fripperies. Initially, I was determined to boycott the Biennale, which lasted just over two months, simply because all its venues were located either next to or within the F1circuit, rendering it more of a commercial spectacle than anything else. However, I caved in because Shubigi Rao’s work was showing and her reinvented objects make me weak at the knees.


Image Corbis

When I spoke to Rao in person and heard that part of her installation was dismantled by the bomb squad just an hour before the press opening, it confirmed my suspicion that big arts events are nothing but trouble. Apparently, terrorists would rather hide bombs in conspicuous-looking machines than in one of the many hidden nooks across the South Beach Development. Do I have something against safety regulations? No. Fastcars? No. Global platforms for the arts? Certainly not. But I do have something against blockbuster art events created purely to rake in tourist dollars.

But really, why the sudden proliferation of visual arts festivals? And honestly, how many large-scale events can we fit onto this tiny island at the same time? Around the world, arts festivals are nothing new. Iconic predecessors such as the Exposition Universelle, held in Paris all the way back in 1900, attracted 50 million visitors. In that light, even given the contextual and geographical differences, the number of people who attended Singapore’s inaugural Biennale in 2006 – 80,000 – seems tame.

However, considering the limitations of our city-state, one without the benefit of a long-standing tradition of art, we’re doing pretty well. And most festivals that have recently sprung up are attempting to achieve what is most important for the moment: bridging the gap between art and the public. Significant strides towards this goal were made in 2004 at SENI, a huge arts event that was meant to act as a precursor to our first Biennale. Opening event ‘Insomnia48’ comprised a 48-hour seriesof activities at The Arts House, which, quite frankly, resembled a college orientation for students: free food, photocopied leaflets, film screenings and interactive activities. In other words, a huge number of local and international artists marketed as easily digestible fun.

How far do festivals have to dilute art in order to satisfy public demand? The minute McCafé started dishing out Biennale-themed specials, such as the ‘Wonder’ sandwich sets, I knew we had a problem. Torrance Goh, co-founder of local creative initiative FARM, agrees festivals need to take their agenda a step further to achievetheir goals: ‘It is a necessary evil toget the art to the public. Just don’t stop at it being all fun and laughter.’ So are blockbuster festivals a shorttermsolution to a long-term goal?

It was eight years ago that the Government released its Renaissance City Report – a series of aims and objectives geared towards shaping not only a Renaissance City but also, a Renaissance society. One of the many issues discussed included channelling money into making events such as the Singapore Arts Festival a force to be reckoned with. Another was the need to emulate the intangible yet inescapable creative aura of cities such as New York and London, which are famed for being cultural treasure troves. But how does one city go about replicating the buzz of another? The fact of the matter is, both of these Western metropolises – particularly London– have the obvious advantage of age, of years and centuries in which art has been allowed to flourish. Allowed, not forced. Perhaps it’s time we stopped thinking about how these cities foster creative culture and, instead, start realising how creative culture fosters these cities.

For a country whose desirable attributes are rooted mainly in its economy, Singapore can’t truly put its faith in a sudden artistic makeover. It will take years of reinforcement, re-education and constant pressure on censorship laws to build a creative hub. It also needs to resist the opportunity for commercial exploitation that the festival-making machine has become – and a sudden force-feeding of festivals down everyone’s throats is not the answer. With this sudden, crazy influx of visual arts spectacles, are we trying to build tradition from trend?

Maybe it’s time to take it down a notch. To think about what we’ve lost aiming for quantity instead of quality. Less money can be spent on event spaces and sideshows, freeing up funds for content development, professional fees and local talent. There comes a saturation point, even for young creative types who are ready to dive into the festival circuit with an open mind.

‘The Biennale was amazing, but it was too much,’ says Worachart Jim Ranauro, a 20-year-old fine-arts student. ‘By the time I was done, all I wanted to do when I got home was turn on the television and think about anything but art.’