EMOTIONAL STORYTELLING

Despite being invisible, music is pervasive in industrialised and post-industrial societies, and it’s something that surrounds us. It sets the mood for many environments and activities – at work, at home, in restaurants, in shopping malls, while running, while doing yoga, while commuting, etc. Whether we’re conscious of it or not, music is powerful and it shapes the way we live our lives. Without cultivating sensitivity towards music, we end up being manipulated instead of being in control of our everyday lives.

Music has always been the main focus of my practice, which primarily examines how we relate to music, individually and as a society. For the Biennale, my works focus on amateurism and the everyday, in the sense that they all employ very simple techniques or materials that are familiar to us.

I’ve created a new three-channel film, Recorder Rewrite, performed by a group of 20 children. While it’s an instrument that’s easily recognisable to all, the recorder has a rather unhip reputation. So I wanted to rehabilitate the instrument in a way, and it would be nice if the audience could come away thinking, ‘Oh, I didn’t know you could do that with the recorder!’ and for them to experience joy or a sense of discovery after watching it.

Apart from that, I think the whole show is really about formulating an alternative vision to Music For Everyone, a concert series organised from 1971 to 1986 by Singapore’s then-ministry of Culture to encourage public appreciation of the arts. We want to present artworks based on egalitarianism and improvisation, which feel more ground up than top down. It’d be great if visitors leave the show also thinking, ‘Oh, I could do that too.’ Sometimes, art that appears simple or amateurish gets dismissed for looking untechnical, so if visitors feel that they could do it, I’d take it as a compliment – because it probably means that they feel empowered by the works.”