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monologue with kentaro hiroki ark fongsmut
When I think of the work of Kentaro Hiroki, the Hal Foster essay, “The Artist as Ethnographer”, comes to mind. The association is not precise and only loose, as Foster is critical about the use of a particular mode of ethnography in contemporary art. But there are at least two reasons that I make the reference. First, Hiroki’s approaches often privilege certain techniques that in his specific applications are atypical. Second, his art is created out of a research process that makes a serious commitment to a specific time and place. Behind Hiroki’s artistic practice is a clear framework about life and work, where time and life are inseparable, and determined by action or karma. At the beginning of our relationship as artist and curator, in some of his early works I felt that there were resonances with techniques such as Chinese or Japanese scroll paintings, such as his oversized sculpture or T-shirt with performances, which were shown in the Brand New exhibition, in 2006. But when we had spoken, Hiroki denied those techniques were influences, as he positioned himself as much as a traveller and not just an artist. The term “traveller” was used by my curator friend, Naoko Uzuki, when she wrote an article for Hiroki’s first solo exhibition. This time, the word is quite precise, as it clearly describes Hiroki, not just because he has moved from one place to another to live, but because his practice is like the application of a mobile studio. He becomes a traveller in each and every place, including Japan, his country of birth, always open to exploring cultural differences. Two other words that I would use to describe his practice: lively and extraordinary. I cannot recall anything comparable to the stunning moment when I first see a new work of his. To engage with his work, we cannot just look, we have to carefully consider and contemplate them. I found out that with My Work is Rubbish (2011-2012). I found myself absorbed in emotional senses in this series like never before, even though
he had titled the work as a piece rubbish. I had a similar extraordinary sensation when I saw his second solo exhibition at Bangkok University Gallery, Sound of Silence (2015). The work shows the music scores of the Royal Guards March, composed by His Majesty the late King Bhumibol Adulyadej, and rearranged by a legendary composer, Phra Chenduriyang. The artist spent four months neatly copying the text from the original, which is preserved at the National Archives. The audience can readily see the artist’s handiwork when viewing it up close, and at the same time, they begin to appreciate the layers of semiotic meaning, and the experience of a durational performance. Hiroki’s work is more interesting, not so much because of the skill of the imitation process, but because of his extraordinary sense of cultural detection. I have often heard people describe Hiroki’s works in terms of environmental issues. Of course, art is profoundly open to interpretation. But I think there can sometimes be a tendency towards over-idealisation and grand themes, and the process of making art, unfortunately becomes a trajectory from “self” to “ego”. I prefer to see Hiroki’s actions as a filter of what we do in our daily lives. I’m resistant to trying to find a larger theoretical frame for Hiroki’s work. I like the idea of waiting for the unexpected perception. When Hiroki immerses himself into the research process of a place, he does not try to read the entire culture but selects some parts that reveal aesthetic patterns of symbolic practices. Let me conclude by mentioning an untitled piece that I enjoy very much. Hiroki copied a package of a famous snack brand, rendering it life-sized. I would say it is his biggest copied object ever. He chose the package without knowing that the inscription written in Thai said “Limited Edition”. As a curator, I very much appreciate the humour of an artist creating a unique work of art by unintentionally copying a limited edition object.
biography Ark Fongsmut is a curator and writer, currently working and residing in Bangkok, Thailand. Since 2000, he has been the curator for the Bangkok University Gallery, and produced significant exhibitions. He also initiated the Brand New Project and Artist Residency Programme. With expertise in Thai photography, he has curated for several photography biennales and festivals, including Month of Photography - Bangkok, SIPF (Singapore International Photography Festival), PAUSE, a photo exhibition of Southeast Asian artists at Photo Bangkok and the Singapore Biennale. His writes critically about contemporary Thai art and frequently contributes to publications, such as, Esquire, MARs and East Bridge.
