It was May, the peak of heat and the start of the rainy season in Asia, when I landed in Hong Kong with Liz Armstrong, curator of contemporary art at the MIA. We had 17 days to investigate the red-hot art scene in Southeast Asia, consider the relationship between historical and contemporary artworks there, and avoid heatstroke. The result: hours of stimulating conversation with artists and institutions, discoveries of fantastic art (old and new), ideas for future MIA exhibitions and acquisitions, and piles of broken coconut husks—remnants of long, cool draughts of coconut water sipped in the sultry, tropical clime.
Jakkai Siributr, “78,” at Art Basel Hong Kong, 2014.
Our first stop was Art Basel in Hong Kong, an annual exhibition of art from top international galleries, half of which were Asia-based. Located in the Hong Kong Convention Center, a white behemoth of a building, the art sprawled over two massive floors and provided an ideal immersion course in contemporary Asian art. Many of these works engaged directly with historical moments or themes while presenting them in a contemporary light.
One of the highlights of the exhibition, which also exemplified this theme, was an impressive sculpture by the Thailand-based artist, Jakkai Siributr. Siributr had draped a cube in black fabric, using gold thread to embroider along the exterior the names of 78 Muslim protestors who perished in southern Thailand in 2004.
Interior of “78,” Jakkai Siributr, 2014.
The sculpture’s interior houses 78 wooden stretchers, each bearing a white cotton kurta top (commonly worn by Muslim men in Thailand) with a name embroidered on the sleeve. I interpreted the sculpture as both memorial and intersection of local Thai and global Islamic aesthetics—the gold letters, in their horizontal arrangement and execution, invoke traditional Thai manuscripts, while the sculpture’s cuboid form immediately alludes to the Kaaba, the architectural destination for Muslims on the annual pilgrimage (hajj) to Mecca. The contrast of the sculpture’s delicate, handcrafted beauty with its chilling political undertones prompted much reflection about how civil violence is managed and publicized abroad.
(Left to right) Howard Tam, Risha Lee, and Liz Armstrong on Victoria’s Peak, Hong Kong
This portion of the trip also enabled us to connect with other collectors, who generously opened their homes and educated us on their private collections. We were also able to take in sweeping vistas of Hong Kong’s extraordinary seascape.
Armstrong poses at dawn in front of a stone wall relief depicting scenes from the life of the Buddha. Borobudur, Central Java, Indonesia, c. 8th or 9th century.
Next, we traveled to Yogyakarta, aka Jogja, which is located in central Java, sandwiched between Jakarta and Bali by roughly an hour’s flight in either direction. Java was once a seafaring center of the medieval world, and I had visited many of the region’s temple sites before while conducting research on premodern Indian trading communities. I now had the great pleasure of introducing Liz to some of the world’s most amazing architecture.
We spent a full afternoon at the stone structural complex of Prambanan, a morning exploring the majestic stone reliefs of the monumental stupa at Borobudur at sunrise, and a full day high on the mountaintops of the Dieng Plateau amidst the country’s earliest stone temple architecture.
View of Arjuna temple cluster, Dieng Plateau, Central Java, Indonesia, c. 7th century
As we descended back into Jogja, passing glistening green crops in the formidable shadow of the active volcano, Mount Merapi, we prepared for the next adventure, our entry into Jogja’s contemporary art scene (part II next week).