An artist offers true and honest works that capture life’s layered interactions.
I WENT to see the exhibition Portraits of Paradox prepared for the gentleness of artist Yau Bee Ling.
I have seen her previous art works, the Family series and Moving Out series. I have been struck before by the gentleness with which Yau put forth on canvas her views of the world around her.
There was a certain innocence in her works, and definitely a gentleness even when addressing complex issues such as relationships.
Portraits of Paradox has all that, and yet more. So much more.
Yau, as an artist, is no longer her usual gentle self. Well, not only her gentle self. Yes, the gentleness, the feminine trait is still very much present but there is a new toughness in her work. There is a certain satire in the way she presents her recordings of issues in her current exhibiting at the Wei-Ling Gallery in Kuala Lumpur.
What emerges through these new paintings is a very complex person, making her commentary on the complexity of life. Many of us yearn for a simple, uncomplicated life. A life where we can safely take things at face value; where what is said is meant, and one where there is no hidden agenda. A life where communication and interaction between one person and another is simple and uncomplicated, uncluttered by hidden aspects.
Alas, a simple, straightforward life is a rarity. As adults we know that life is not a simple matter of being able to accept what is said without having to give a thought to underlying meanings and reasons.
That is what Portraits of Paradox is about.
At a glance it’s an exhibition of portraits, of mainly shoulder-length abstract portraits presented in many different hues.
The use of colours give different effects. Some portraits are set against vibrant backgrounds; the combination of colours in some other portraits give them a certain serenity; while the colours in yet others create a certain sombreness.
I feel particularly drawn to Pride. The tilt of the head in the portrait is in the classic Nefertiti style. The angular chin, the eyes almost looking down at the viewer portray a certain hauteur about the person.
Nefertiti was the chief royal wife of heretic king Akhenaten who founded a new religion worshipping the sun in ancient Egypt. Literature tells of her famous beauty and femininity, which were crucially important to her husband. What is rarely mentioned is the fact that, in his religion, access to the Sun God was strictly through the Royal Pair which made Nefertiti one half of a very, very powerful partnership.She was so important to him that Akhenaten had her image carved into the four corners of his granite sarcophagus, providing his mummified body with protection in the after life – and in so doing elevated her to the realm of the deities.
Perhaps that explains the hauteur often seen in representations of Nefertiti.
Perhaps that is what is noted by Yau through the hauteur of the portrait in Pride. That position and perceived self-importance turn people into unapproachable beings, formal and unfriendly and in a class of their own.
Pride differs from the other paintings in the exhibition. It is the only painting (if I remember correctly) that is not adorned by other portraits within the shape of the main portrait. It exists alone, carries the narrative of the artist singularly in the strokes and the colours applied by her. And yet I feel the painting tells so much, perhaps even more than the artist originally intended.
The Immortalised Ruler is another thought provoking painting. I stand in front of the painting trying to count the many faces within the frame of the portrait and lose track of them as the different facial expressions catch my attention instead.
The many faces in the man, the many mouths, the many quirks of eyebrows – are they a commentary on the many voices coming from the same person, the many things said that are contradictory, the many promises kept and broken?
What is interesting and not to be forgotten is that for every politician or leader we mention in the same breath as the painting (as we seem so ready to do these days), there is an ordinary person in our lives – our fathers, our mothers, our husbands, our wives – who could have the same traits. Lies and broken promises are not the prerogative of politicians and community leaders. They are in our common, everyday lives too.
Therein lies the sophistication of Portraits of Paradox.
As a body of works by an artist hitherto known for her feminine and gentle approach to making art, this is no mere narrative of life immediately around her. Portraits of Paradox works on so many levels, through so many layers.
On the surface, each painting tells a story; look a little closer, and other stories come to the fore. Take your time and stay longer and scrutinise the many facial expressions within, and your will begin to hear the silent voices that make up the paradoxes within each painting.
You hear the satire, the ruthlessly honest observations; you understand the cacophony of narratives contained within each gently painted frame, and you know that you are witness too to the many facades of life.
I envy the buyers of the sold-out exhibition: I imagine them sitting down in the room where their painting will hang, being able to take as many hours as they wish to (figuratively speaking) peel off the many layers in each painting and find out about the many narratives in the painting – for they have not bought just a painting, they bought a tapestry of life.
Yau is the quiet observer, meticulously recording everything. Her mind is like a sponge, absorbing everything that crosses her path.
That same mind then brings everything to the fore with the same quietness that is so misleading, for the paintings are no mere transfers of observation on to canvas. The paintings are complex narratives of life. Narratives that are delivered quietly and gently but with a certain brutal honesty – which some of us may miss if we do not look carefully enough.
A bit like reading the writings of renowned newspaper columnist and author Adibah Amin actually: gentle, quiet recordings of her observation but oh so very true and honest.
‘Portraits of Paradox’ is on display until Tuesday at Wei-Ling Gallery (No. 8, Jalan Scott, Brickfields, Kuala Lumpur). Gallery hours: noon to 5pm, Mondays to Fridays; 10am-5pm, Saturdays. Enquiries: 03-2260 1106 / 07 or go to weiling-gallery.com.