Analysis

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A reiteration of its 2013 installation, Singaporean artist Tang Da Wu’s Brother’s Pool (2017) is an installation turned performance art piece that pays homage to Brother Joseph McNally, founder of LASALLE College of the Arts, his role in art education in Singapore, and in a larger sense, how we pass on what we learn.  Its 2017 iteration was the opening performance to an exhibition celebrating pioneering art principals, Brother Joseph McNally and Lim Hak Tai.

 

An arrangement of 15 rocks surrounded by a circle of metal panels, Tang’s primordial tide pool discusses the contributions of the late Brother McNally. The stones found left in McNally’s studio, meant to become foundations for buildings under normal circumstances, are affectionately dubbed the McNally Stones and are a fitting symbol for the man who formed the foundation of Singapore’s art programmes. Moreover, two stones are engraved with the words “construire mi glesia / sobre esta piedra”, which translate to “I will build my church on this stone” from Spanish. Taken from the Holy Bible, this phrase from Matthew 16:18 is an apt manifesto for a Brother of the De La Salle order who dedicated his whole life to education. The engraved stones support two glass tanks, one containing water, the other empty. This presentation encapsulates McNally’s work in Singapore: he came as a teacher and went on to restructure education systems on both a school and nation levels, before fulfilling a vision to develop and nurture creativity by founding LASALLE College of the Arts which lives on even today – a “church on this stone” indeed.

 

The McNally Stones sit silhouetted against the bright lights behind them. By placing bright light at the foot of the rocks, the glow not only creates a dynamic visual contrast between the dark shadows on one side and bright light on the other but also obscures the bulb itself, giving the sense that light is shining from under the rocks, mimicking a tide pool at sunset where the shadowed rock meets a bright reflection on the water’s surface. Tang’s use of the symbolism of a tide pool in which diverse and developing life is born further highlights McNally’s pivotal role . The glass tanks refract the light, brightening the installation space. Perhaps the light seeping from under the rocks and the light refracted by the tanks and water represents the impacts of  McNally’s contributions to Singapore’s art scene, stemming from his establishment of LASALLE and other programs and reaching beyond.

 

What is particularly striking is the juxtaposition of the “construire mi glesia” (“I will build my church”) water-filled tank versus its empty “sobre esta piedra” (“on this stone”) counterpart. My interpretation of this parallel is that “construire mi glesia” refers to the institutions and programmes that Brother McNally has already implemented, hence that tank is already filled and helping to refract light. In contrast, the empty tank represents good things yet to come. It represents the future that we can  build upon Brother McNally’s ‘stone’ in order to continue to spread art appreciation and education in Singapore. It serves as a reminder to the times, especially in a society torn between heritage and progress, by pointing to the contributions of those who came before us and how our own light of progress is only possible today because of them; we have the responsibility to continue what they started.           

 

Playing into the image of a life-giving tide pool, an image of Mother Mary on a high wall overlooks the pool. The cluster of rocks forms a line that runs tangent to the image. As the viewer’s eyes follow from rock to rock, their line of vision is eventually led to look out of the enclosure and up to the wall where the religious image lies. Held up as the epitome of love, the image of Mother Mary casts a divine light on the installation. An image of motherhood, not only is her image a salute to McNally’s Catholic background, but a reminder of the nurture and care that he so strongly believed had to go into art education.

 

This discussion of Brother’s Pool would not be complete without discussion of the performance aspect. Tang invited members of the audience to throw A4-sized mirrors into the enclosure, shattering them. The initial atmosphere may have been heavy, with a single “crack” of glass shattering to get the performance started, but eventually the sound of cracks of glass, laughter, and chatter filled the room, everyone excited to take and share videos with their friends. This more light-hearted, interaction-based treatment of art, where art is something appreciated and enjoyed, was something that struck me as what nurturing the arts in society was all about. As more and more people threw mirrors against the McNally Stones, more and more pieces of broken and unbroken mirror filled the “pool”. Shards of different sizes and shapes reflected the lights and rocks of Brother’s Pool, part of the gallery around them, and parts of the people both participating and watching the performance. The many parts reflected countless images, showing how from one man’s life work, a society of different people have been exposed to an arts scene they would have otherwise never have experienced. Nothing could ring truer to McNally’s vision than when a group of complete strangers comes together to share an artistic experience.

 

Looking at the installation in a vacuum, the symbolisms in the work clearly pay homage to Brother McNally. However, looking at the work in the context of the 2017 homage to Brother McNally and Lim Hak Tai, the work takes on a new dimension of meaning. As the opening to an exhibition that celebrates giants in Singapore’s art education history, not only does it fit the brief, but this recognition of Brother McNally turns him into a near foil of Lim Hak Tai.

 

Displaying the two works that pay homage to Lim, Hak Tai’s Bow and Six horses representing the six principles by Lim Hak Tai for art education, in the same gallery draws a parallel to Brother’s Pool’s narrative. The simultaneous dichotomy and duality of the works dedicated to different men who both changed the art education landscape in Singapore does not just remind us of their lasting impacts but raises the question of how we remember and honour the past. Though both are pioneering principals of two of Singapore’s most established art colleges, LASELLE College of Arts and Nanyang Academy of Fine Arts (NAFA) respectively, though Lim also established the six principles for art education that still shape art education in Singapore today; more often than not McNally receives more of the limelight compared to Lim. As Tang himself someone put it: “Lim Hak Tai doesn’t even have a road named after him”. It is arguable that Brother’s Pool (2017) is more of a means to an end in this exhibition, highlighting the role of Lim Hak Tai rather than Brother McNally,  in contrast to 2013 when it was exhibited as a static installation in LASALLE; in the right context, an installation paying homage to one pioneer emphasises the role of another.

 

Brother’s Pool is an interesting example of how context can drastically alter meaning, especially in the case of art exhibitions. The 2017 iteration not only pays homage to Brother Joseph McNally for his contributions but also to Lim Hak Tai. Ultimately, it may be more accurate to refer to Brother’s Pool as a homage to the art education community and pioneers as not only does it touch on one pioneer but on the core of what drives art and art education: vision and the shared work of a community