Woven Walls | 3/5

SINGAPORE — We humans have been compelled to leave our mark on everything around us.

From political caricatures on the preserved walls of Pompeii to the 2,000 inscriptions left by people from all walks of life on the ancient citadel of Sigiraya in Sri Lanka, the culture of graffiti serves as canvases for those not fortunate enough to be included in our history books.

In Singapore, graffiti has enjoyed a rather chequered reputation. Even while corporate and state-sanctioned spaces and events for graffiti art keep popping up, the past few years have, likewise, seen controversies surrounding, among others, Samantha Lo and supporters of “hacktivist” group, Anonymous.

Woven Walls, the latest show at FOST Gallery poses questions about this from another perspective. Comprising works on canvas by members of the urban art collective RSCLS (featuring artists ANTZ, ClogTwo, TR853-1 and ZERO), the exhibition reflects a definite bent towards signalling forms of Singaporean-ness and the cultural identities thereof.

For instance, a series of canvases by ClogTwo, each featuring a dense mass of handwriting in gold on black, seems at first indecipherable. As you discern the individual words, however, it reads as a sequence of foreboding pronouncements. It’s actually an extract from the 82nd sura of the koran concerning the end of the world — in a tone distinctly unlike the urban youth cultures associated with street and graffiti art. It’s not all doom and gloom, though. ANTZ fuses Chinese cultural iconography (such as lion dance) with the stylised, graphical imagery associated with street art, while TR853-1 offers frankly one-note, Banksy-esque jibes at local events and peculiarities. In the latter’s pastel-hued, spray-painted canvases, Singapore’s burning desire for Hello Kitty collectibles is juxtaposed with the movie World War Z’s zombies attacking a helicopter, while the recurrence of the haze finds expression with a Merlion in a mask. Other images — the Statue of Liberty wielding a rifle, riot police hefting balloon weaponry — seem almost perfunctory, conveying some undirected distaste for imperialism and authoritarianism in general.

While the energy and potential for aesthetic appeal of these images are not in doubt, a more pressing question is: What changes when an art form born of the street makes the leap to readily-sold canvases on cool, white, gallery walls? Things born of necessity — using spray paint for speed to avoid being caught, for example — simply become aesthetic markers. For this reviewer, that it might still signal some connection with the founding myth of the “street” in street art, its connotations of youthful rebellion and individualistic expression, is worrying.

Woven Walls runs until Oct 26, 11am to 7pm, FOST Gallery, Gillman Barracks, #01-02. Free admission. Mondays and public holidays by appointment only.