THE PIECES THAT MAKE THE WHOLE
Justin Mills discusses his current exhibition, which unifies disparate artworks to create phenomena not readily apparent
For Justin Mills, a painting should be like a good poem, revealing something new with every reading and to every individual. “I’ve always tried to do something a little more ambiguous, poetic, something that keeps you wanting to look at it to try and work it out, but can never quite work out,” says the British artist, who has lived in Thailand for 21 years.
In his most recent exhibition, “Algorithm Adjustment”, showcased at Cho Why gallery in Chinatown, Mills’ artwork — a melange of textures, lines, colours and symbols on huge canvases — chaotically yet seamlessly work together to produce meanings that constantly can be interpreted and reinterpreted.
Like a poet who makes use of literary techniques to build a stylistic appeal, Mills uses layers to create a visually stimulating display. Most pieces start with a gold paint background — a unifying component between all four of his series. Mills then uses masking tape, spray paint, symbols and poetic lyrics to add depth and character to each piece.
For his “Garden Simulation” series, Mills also scratched lines into the canvas, which from afar appear to be pixels, a distinct representation of the increasingly digitalised world.
“Everything comes to us now through screens — phone screens, computer screens, surveillance screens. It’s like reality is increasingly mediated through pixels. So I wanted to start using these, to humanise it in a way,” says the artist.
Technology and algorithms are timely themes in a world where people are increasingly wary of social media and mass surveillance. One particular piece — I Am Silenced, I Cannot Think Straight, It Is The Best Thing, named after the lyrics of British singer P.J. Harvey — shares an ominous similarity to George Orwell’s 1984. A flock of birds, symbolising freedom of speech, fly in circles, while a small surveillance screen off to the side mirrors them, watching every action.
Yet Mills’ work is by no means dark or despondent. By adding organic components like white drips, which uncontrollably spill across each painting from right to left, Mills balances out the darker themes and rejuvenates each piece. “The final white marks act in the same way a white dot in an eye brings it to life,” says Mills. “For me, it represents something from the future. The source is always coming from the right. It’s like something pulling us, driving our evolution.”
The hollowed-out shophouse the exhibition is located in adds a charm to the audience experience. Mills, who moved his studio, situated opposite Cho Why, to the Chinatown suburb 10 years ago, loves the area for its soul and character, but has been witness to the suburb’s increasing gentrification.
“There’s a part of Chinatown that I walked through last week, and it’s a ghost town because all the residents have been kicked out, but they still haven’t started demolishing the houses. Now there’s this huge area and there’s just nobody there, so that’s pretty sad.
“Bangkok’s being sanitised by the ruling elite. They end up cleaning up the street food, knocking down beautiful old houses, kicking out old communities,” continues Mills. “It’s sad that there isn’t more of an outcry or more compassion from the authorities, and more imagination and realisation of how original and unique Bangkok is.”
Still, as the suburb has become more trendy, the art scene has flourished.
“We had the Chinatown Fair on Soi Nana a couple of weeks ago and we had about a thousand people in one day, which was crazy. We were just swamped, and it was fantastic, really. Everyone in the neighbourhood was a bit overwhelmed by it, but Chinatown is certainly on the map now.”
Whether it’s while visiting the suburb for Chinese New Year or walking the winding alleyways in search of hidden bars, Justin Mills’ exhibition should not be missed.