INTERVIEW WITH YIN KER

Available in French on ACA (Asian Contemporary Art) Project’s website here

Conducted for ACA Project in June 2023, by Amandine Vabre Chau

In 2021, Yin Ker co-curated Bagyi Aung Soe's solo exhibition at the Centre Pompidou. Art historian and Adjunct curator for Southeast Asia at the Musée national d'art moderne, Centre Pompidou, Yin Ker has written substantially on this multifaceted artist from Myanmar. ACA project thought it important to discuss this major figure in a broader context: considering his thinking, beliefs and philosophy. This might offer a glimpse of the artist’s significance to Burmese culture and to the ways we currently interpret contemporary art. Exploring his practice through a theoretical, curatorial and relational lens, this conversation hopefully testifies to the importance of pushing artistic boundaries.

INTERVIEW

plAy: Art from Myanmar Today, Osage Gallery, Singapore, 9 May–20 June 2010. Curated by Isabel Ching & Yin Ker. Image courtesy of Osage Gallery.

Amandine Vabre Chau : How did Bagyi Aung Soe's work become so significant in Myanmar, and to Burmese art/visual culture? In your curatorial essay for the 2021 exhibition at the Centre Pompidou “Juggling paradoxes in the here and now”, you specify that much of his production had been preserved. Yet, he wasn’t prominently displayed in “big” art institutions. How did his name live on without these spaces while thriving within the art community?  

Yin Ker : Aung Soe is currently only in the collection of National Gallery Singapore. The 2021 exhibition at the Centre Pompidou is the only major solo exhibition to date. As to why he hasn’t caught the attention of other public institutions, perhaps it has less to do with his art and more to do with the absence of interest or expertise in artists from Myanmar and the region. Scholarly work has been one way of generating interest in his art—and interviews like this one too.  

In Myanmar, Aung Soe is considered the poet’s artist as well as the artist’s artist par excellence. As early as the late 1940s when he was in his 20s, he was mentored by the country’s most esteemed literary figures like Min Thu Wun and Dagon Taya as well as artists like U Ba Yin Galay. He then went on to push the boundaries of what was considered acceptable as “art” in his country.  

Today, his work lives on in the memory of amateurs of art and literature, who grew up seeing his works used as illustrations on and in books and periodicals on a monthly basis. Instead of limiting his activities to galleries and exhibitions which were scarce back then, he made it a point to make his art accessible to all levels of the highly literate Burmese society through illustration. Between 1952 and 1988 when he was blacklisted by the military government for an illustration on the 8888 Uprising*, not a single month passed without the publication of an average of a dozen new illustrations in at least one publication. Although most surviving original works date from the 1970s and 1980s, there are abundant printed illustrations going back to the late 1940s from the beginning of his career, of which more than 6,000 are documented and accessible on AungSoeillustrations.org. Many of these publications are sought after and collected nowadays. His fame as a movie star, in addition to his larger-than-life personality and outstanding appearance, fascinated his countrymen and only boosted his renown as a genius artist who excelled in multiple fields.  

As such, although there is no work attributed to him in the national collection in Myanmar—Aung Soe shunned the establishment and the art market—he is still one of the most revered Burmese artists. It is noteworthy that plans for a national gallery in Myanmar never took off, and the national museum in Yangon did not and does not actively collect modern art; what is in the collection of modern paintings are mostly, if not all, donations by artists.  

Bagyi Aung Soe (1923–1990), Musée national d’art moderne – Centre Pompidou, Paris, 19 May–23 August 2021. Curated by Catherine David & Yin Ker. Image courtesy of Yin Ker.

Pursuing this analysis, is modernity (however defined) something we should strive for? Wouldn’t it be obsolete?  

I would like to respond in two ways. First with Rabindranath Tagore’s argument that “those who have the true modern spirit need not modernise, just as those who are truly brave are not braggarts.” As such, there’s nothing to strive for or reject. Second, the so-called ”tradition” and “modernity” are not antithetical. They are like the old and the new, two wheels yoked to each other and moving in tandem. What’s new today will be old tomorrow; neither tradition nor modernity is permanently thus. The new doesn’t come from nothing; it arises or transforms from the old. In the words of Aung Soe’s teacher in Santiniketan, Nandalal Bose, “Tradition is the outer shell of the seed that holds the embryo of new growth; this shell protects the embryo from being destroyed by heat or rain or violence.” That new growth can’t be forced; it takes the time it takes.

Opened to Bose’s teachings as a result of his studies in Śāntiniketan, you inform us of Aung Soe’s roots in the former’s philosophy. Namely, that « an art object cannot be known by discussion and analysis ». Having mentioned yourself that the artist’s practice is « an art beyond the grasp of the conceptual mind », how do you write and talk about a body of work that refuses analysis?    

Yes, how to apply the tools of art historical analysis to a body of works that is the fruit of aspirations beyond the conceptual mind? In addition to Nandalal Bose’s admonition, Aung Soe assimilated the teachings of Tantra and Zen which all reiterate the transcendence of the conceptual mind. As of now, some of the strategies that I continue to hone include communicating the objectives and methods of mental cultivation beyond the conceptual mind as succinctly as possible, so that the reader can at least have some notions of what lies beyond it, and how the state of mind beyond the conceptual might be understood in relation to specific aspects of Aung Soe’s practice and works (his palette and process of image-making, for example). As much as possible, I use his words to explain these things. In an exhibition, unless there are lengthy wall texts or some form of guidance, the visitor is very much left to his or her own devices. Regardless, there is a limit to what can be effectively communicated, and readers and visitors are receptive to what they read as per their intimate understanding of the functions of the mind from experience.  

Bagyi Aung Soe (1923–1990), Musée national d’art moderne – Centre Pompidou, Paris, 19 May–23 August 2021. Curated by Catherine David & Yin Ker. Image courtesy of Yin Ker.

The artist’s work translates a refusal of dichotomies, a movement with a commitment to change that thrives for a universal approach. How do you transpose this fluidity, this impermanence, into your curatorial practice?   

In addition to a pertinent selection of works, it is imperative for the visitor to see his manuscripts and notes in order to understand his mind. Translations of them or summaries of their content will need to be made accessible. With audiences that do not share the same cultural references as the artist, explanatory texts are vital. This said, I very much doubt we can expect a single exhibition or a single artist to instruct on something as complex as non-binary thinking or Rabindranath Tagore’s universalist and humanist vision that was Aung Soe’s motivation. The same body of works will need to be presented multiple times from different angles in various formats.  

Going back to your previous essay, you write that “Manaw maheikdi dat pangyi** was created as art—not necessarily for the museum or art gallery—but nonetheless as art to be circulated widely […]The works were not meant to be displayed on an altar or as images of devotion in a liturgical context”. Do you think there are other possible ways, perhaps more appropriate, to present artworks that transcend the museum’s setting? We are seeing more and more discussions around alternative spaces, what might these spaces look like to you?   

In terms of how Aung Soe’s works might be shown in ways that do not surrender his practice’s integrity to hegemonic formats, I think it is more about how the exhibition is done, rather than the physical site or space. I don’t see how an exhibition in a museum and one in an alternative space differ if there is no fundamental difference in their curatorial methodologies. Certainly, small or informal spaces may be more compatible with certain adapted curatorial strategies, but they are not exclusive to alternative spaces. Even major museums offer these spaces: National Gallery Singapore’s Dalam Southeast Asia and the Centre Pompidou’s Salle 20 used for small, research-intensive monographic shows, for example. I think we need not assume that an “alternative space” is ipso facto more congruent with an artist like Aung Soe who had very unconventional ideas about the purpose of his artistic practice and the reception of his works. My primary concerns have to do with the quality of research, documentation and presentation, as well as the curatorial theme and strategy which must take into consideration the contexts of reception. As for the venue, it depends on the exhibition’s objective. If it is for his art to reach new and larger audiences, to challenge the mainstream narrative and canon in whatever small way, it makes more sense to hold the exhibition at a prominent museum. The museum remains a pivotal gatekeeper of artists’ assimilation into art history, and there is no circumventing it. If we are to stick to Aung Soe’s vision of art for the masses, the clear solution is to take things online. This can be done through open- access online databases like AungSoeillustrations.org, virtual presentations of curated selections of works, or digital 3D recording of physical exhibitions.  

Following Bagyi Aung Soe’s example, could you tell us of any other South-East Asian artists that push the boundaries of what we call art ?  

In my opinion, Roberto Bulatao Feleo from the Philippines and Tang Chang (Chang Sae-tang, Chen Zhuang) from Thailand are some of these artists who did not regurgitate the hegemonic MO of Western modernism. Against general opinion reiterating Western art as the beacon for success in the art world, they examined thought systems, belief systems, technologies and media closer to home for inspiration. Hopefully, there will be more work done on artists who thought outside the ready-made transplant of “art” from the West to formulate singular artistic practices. These artists complicate, diversify and enrich the prevailing construct of “art” in ways that spur us to think more critically about our premises and assumptions of art and modernity.  

Bagyi Aung Soe (1923–1990), Musée national d’art moderne – Centre Pompidou, Paris, 19 May–23 August 2021. Curated by Catherine David & Yin Ker. Image courtesy of Yin Ker.

Do you encounter any difficulties, such as reticence or misunderstandings, in presenting South-East Asian artists in France ? Can you testify to any fundamental differences in curation when applied to Europe and to Asia ?  Perhaps in terms of possibilities/difficulties or physical approaches to artworks, their handling, or their displaying ? 

I don’t have answers for these questions because I don’t think Southeast Asian art has been sufficiently shown in France for us to be able to distill satisfactory answers; I only have a general response to the topic of showing Southeast Asian art in France. Whether in France or elsewhere, I think it is important to not simplify the complexity of difference just to cater to what we assume to be the general public’s level of receptivity or culture. Instead, it is more fruitful to transform this complexity into a treasure trove of what Southeast Asian art has to offer. What must be avoided is to feed exoticised notions of the other and Southeast Asia, some of which are highly politicised, as is the case for Myanmar. To do so, we need more opportunities for exhibitions and publications that are of a high scientific level.  

Lastly, in the academic world, how can we write a current, plural and collective art history where the narratives of the past collide with that of the present, in order to highlight their commonalities and gaps; and offer new avenues of discussion?   

I am of the conviction that we must first build the foundational grammar of such a plural art history: scrupulous research on the times and lives of artists, their works and evolution, their mind and all that made them, as well as the contexts of their activities and reception from the anthropological and sociological points of view. Without foundational knowledge of what we claim to discourse on, I am skeptical about how to elaborate theoretical frameworks can be sound and stand against the test of time. It is then possible to compare, discern commonalities and gaps, and write compelling narratives of art. In my opinion, attempts are often made to replicate methodologies and theories that are prevalent in international academia, without taking into consideration the fact that Southeast Asian art history does not predate the 20th century and cannot compare to Western art history with a history of half a millennium. Regardless of what one thinks of Vasari’s Lives, that was how art history as we know it began. If it is not even clear whether the equivalents of these Lives have been accomplished in Southeast Asia, do we know enough about Southeast Asian artists and their art to formulate sophisticated theories on these artists and their oeuvres? This does not mean that we should be limited to conducting monographic studies, but I think we need to be lucid about what is achievable and what might not be, in order to progress to the next step which is to remedy the lacunae that hinder us from more ambitious discourses.  

plAy: Art from Myanmar Today, Osage Gallery, Singapore, 9 May–20 June 2010. Curated by Isabel Ching & Yin Ker. Image courtesy of Osage Gallery.

*Series of pro-democracy protests in 1988, Myanmar

**In Burmanised Pāli, this epithet means the painting or art of the fundamental elements of the phenomenal world by way of intense mental concentration attained through assiduous meditation practice.
Note: The English language offers no equivalent for the Burmese word “pangyi”, pronounced as “bagyi”. Strictly speaking, it means “painting”. In general usage, however, especially in modern Burmese art, whereby painting is the principal medium of expression, it means “art”. Given that the activities of drawing and painting are not necessarily perceived as distinct from the Burmese point of view, “pangyi” can, in addition, mean drawing.
Source: Yin Ker – Felicitous « Misalignments »: Bagyi Aung Soe’s Manaw Maheikdi