
What exactly is being referred to when we talk about "contemporary art"?
You'd probably get a hundred different answers from a hundred different people. The loose interpretation that most may agree on is that it's the art of the present day -- the art of the now. But judging from the many attempts to theorise what "contemporary" actually is, it isn't that simple.
David Teh, a Singapore-based academic, curator, art critic and general force in the Southeast Asian contemporary art world, has recently published a new book, Thai Art: Currencies Of The Contemporary, to try to define in a Thai context what constitutes contemporary art and what gives it value. It's arguably the first scholarly study of Thai artistic practice since Apinan Poshyananda's Modern Art In Thailand, published in 1992, and it was no surprise that his book launch two weeks ago at Jim Thompson's Ayara Hall was packed with art enthusiasts and academics.
Working as an art critic and curator in the Thailand of the mid-2000s, David -- through the people, places and projects he's encountered -- attempts to process and define "contemporary art" using his own methods of understanding.
"'Currencies', which is the word that a lot of people have been already asking me about, was really just a device I made up to help me analyse what this value of being contemporary was about," he said at the launch. "What are the things that make something contemporary in this particular time and place?" In the general art world, these currencies -- or the value which makes an artist or artwork contemporary -- consists of going to a certain art school, prizes that an artist or an artwork has won, or who the artwork was owned by. But in a Thai context, Teh has found that currencies consist of very different aspects, such as distance and mobility (how far the artist and her work have travelled); charisma and withdrawal (how an artist accumulates influence and power); and critiques of nation (how an artist turns her back on works that scream Thainess, and in fact criticise the Kingdom in one cryptic way or another). Picking out these currencies, he then delves into Thai history to how and why these currencies came to be.
It's an extremely dense and eye-opening read, and to get a further understanding of it, Life talked to David Teh about the process behind the book and his thoughts on the art scene in Thailand today.
What interested you in Thai contemporary art in the first place?
I was fascinated by the local scene. Two things stood out. One, they were working in non-traditional media like installation, video and photography, as well as things that are more participatory. Secondly, they were not making work that looked especially Thai. This of course was a big contrast to the art of the 90s, which I was familiar with, where 'kwam pen Thai' [Thainess] and institutional supports of national identity were very much the brand of contemporary art. [This was] the first generation of really contemporary artists who were making critiques of national identity. So the generation I encountered was not making work that was recognisably Thai, and yet they knew that in the international art world they were trying to join, [Thainess] would be an important way their work was understood. These artists were caught between these two ways of working that was very interesting to me, and it became the central preoccupation of the book.
How did they balance this out?
I think with difficulty. They didn't want to cash in on their cultural identity. They didn't want to be the sort of brand or obvious mark of who they were and what they were doing. As a result they got different sorts of opportunities. The artists of this particular generation were less likely to wind up in the very high-profile biennales. Eventually they got there. I think it was the lucky few who found really good opportunities. Arin [Rungjang] would definitely be one. His work is very well-received in Western Europe.
How much has the art scene in Thailand changed in almost 10 years?
It's changed a lot. I'm cautious to say that. I think that there's a lot of new enthusiasm in contemporary art. Certainly the market has picked up, and this is a very healthy thing. The market doesn't always produce the most interesting art or exhibitions, but certainly artists need to eat.
What's happening now is there's a new generation of gallerists and gallery activity that wasn't there before. And it's possible for a much wider range of younger artists to get a chance to, for example, get a solo show in a private gallery. I think there are a lot more opportunities now. I'm cautious, though, because like any market, this comes in cycles, and I wonder how long this is going to last. Meanwhile, have we built the right institutions that will continue to make interesting exhibitions and collections? I don't think so.
Could you describe what you mean by the word 'currencies' in the subtitle of your book Thai Art: Currencies Of The Contemporary?
A currency for me is a value that can be read in an artwork. It could be many different things. If we think about the currencies that art history typically observes, it's things like patronage, institutional exhibitions, provenance. The concept of value based on technical mastery has more or less dissolved. There are very few people in the real contemporary art world who care if an artist is a fantastic draftsman. Technical proficiency has gone down a notch. What's replaced it? Well, there's a lot of currencies. Each chapter takes on a kind of currency.
What would be the most depressing aspect of the Thai art scene?
Whenever art is censored, it's a sign of weakness, not of strength. It's not a controversial thing to say. It's a sign of fear. Normally Thailand is not a place that has a lot of censorship. If you look at the history of the 20th century in this country, there's a certain latitude possible when it comes to speaking your mind. Nowadays we're used to a very tight public sphere. In fact there is no public sphere anymore.
What's happening now is very alarming. When there's an active attempt to control what artists are doing or to stop them from doing things, I think it's untenable. You can't stop people from having thoughts, and you can't stop them from expressing them. And in the end that deliberate suppression of artistic expression always historically makes the suppressor looks stupid at some point.
Apart from that, curatorship isn't taken seriously in this country. When you see a really good show and you come away fed, filled up with ideas, I think usually the same objects in the same space could have left you dead. But the curator sometimes can do something that brings artworks to life and allows them to tell stories that wouldn't be there otherwise. A curator makes art more valuable. I don't think there's been nearly enough investment in Thailand in that role.
Ending on a positive note, what gives you hope about Thailand's art scene?
It's not just specific to the contemporary art scene. I think Thai artists, curators, students, like everyone in their milieu, are reading more and debating more. People are sharing their thoughts more. And you could largely put this down to social media. I think social media's been very important for opening up a public sphere that hasn't been there before. People are sharing two things more. One, their opinion about things. Secondly, they're sharing history more. There's a renewed hunger for historical knowledge. A whole generation of intellectuals for whatever reason let a whole lot of historical resources go to sleep. This I think is encouraging, and it gives me hope that younger people are not inhibited in picking that stuff up and using it in some way.
