Project Categories: Video

Conceptualised as companion pieces, You will not feel this way forever and You are held here in this moment expand on an ongoing exploration of text and the architecture of public space. In each piece, fragments of the title text unfold over digital video footage that had been captured while sailing across the South China Sea. Placed on monumental digital screens, the works engage with the affect of advertising and its promise of comfort and security, as well as with the poetics of space and time, which point to the inevitability of motion and change. On the one hand, the videos point to the spectacle of urban screens but also offer suspension; a shared moment of tender contemplation amidst the flux of the city.

Conceptualised as companion pieces, You are held here in this moment and You will not feel this way forever expand on an ongoing exploration of text and the architecture of public space. In each piece, fragments of the title text unfold over digital video footage that had been captured while sailing across the South China Sea. Placed on monumental digital screens, the works engage with the affect of advertising and its promise of comfort and security, as well as with the poetics of space and time, which point to the inevitability of motion and change. On the one hand, the videos point to the spectacle of urban screens but also offer suspension; a shared moment of tender contemplation amidst the flux of the city.

Locus brings together a selection of photographs from the duo’s Spaces in Between project, which explores transient spaces in Singapore. Included in the montage are stills of the ordinary (a car park, a bus stop), alongside the monumental (a now-demolished national stadium); punctuated by elegiac chimes and texts, contemplating the act of photographing as a means of remembering and forgetting.

Scala viewfinds the escalator in various states; meditating upon the seemingly endless chug of time, and an ‘end place’ that eludes us. Handheld, and coupled with fragments of found sounds and an original score, the film attempts to convey the strange delight and fear of being both stilled and moved by an unstoppable force.

A rooftop carpark stands empty and ready, like a stage awaiting its spectacle. Captured in one take, ‘Interland’ explores the passage of time and light, and invites the viewer to meditate on that singular, unrepeatable, and uncontrollable moment – when night forwards into day.

The void deck is a public space unique to Singapore. Its ubiquitous presence, under each public housing block, serves as a poetic reminder of the disconnect and dualities that exist in our modern cityscape: It is a space where neighbours meet, and avoid one another; a place to breathe, but not to linger; a view into the emptiness that surrounds us; and a blank slate for the imagination.

A housing block sits quietly on Banda Street in Chinatown, remarkably untouched by the redevelopment projects at its doorstep. A silent visitor arrives to explore its corridors and walkways – to observe, to compare, and to document the spaces she wandered through as a child. In her attempt to make a record, and recall what is already absent, she anticipates the loss that is to come.