Southeast Asia may be regionally and culturally-diverse, but there are often unexpected threads that tie these nations together. Whether it is the idea of shared colonial history, or ingrained systems that exist within society, there are often plenty of links that bring up fascinating dialogues and interactions when viewed in conjunction with each other, leading us to consider the hidden ties that bind.

And so it is that in Singapore Art Museum’s (SAM) latest programme, two brand new solo exhibitions by mid-career Southeast Asian artists Yee I-Lann and Pratchaya Phinthong provide plenty of food for thought about what it means to live in Southeast Asia today, and all that came before us. Both exhibiting at Gallery 1 at SAM at Tanjong Pagar Distripark, both exhibitions showcase the practices of two leading artists from the same generation, not only passing commentary on both the past and present, but continuing to push forward and reaffirm SAM’s commitment to profile key Southeast Asian artistic practices and voices.

Pratchaya Phinthong: No Patents on Ideas marks first solo exhibition of Bangkok-based artist Pratchaya Phinthong in Singapore, and features his signature tongue-in-cheek thinking, while exploring the relational processes, fleeting gestures, and global transactions that shape the cultural and economic systems that underlie everyday interactions. Stepping into the space, one immediately notices the upward-sloping floor, where it feels almost like a light trek to navigate the unusual space. Look to the left, and you’ll notice an odd looking object behind a glass panel – a piece of parachute cloth and fragment of shrapnel on loan from the Changi Chapel and Museum. This seems an odd way to begin the exhibition, but stems from how Phinthong visited the Changi Chapel and Museum, where he was drawn to the delicate, semi-sheer qualities of this old parachute cloth made from rayon.

Materiality and immateriality then becomes a key theme within the exhibition itself, considering how rayon was eventually replaced by ripstop nylon for the making of parachutes, as we consider how innovation improves on the past, and how it is these invisible forces that effect change in the world. Step forth and you’ll find yourself under Untitled, which displays the skies above Udon Thani in northeastern Thailand, as an F-16 jet fighter crosses the sky as part of a military training exercise, raising ideas of the military complex and its shared presence in both Singapore and Thailand, alongside the 15-year agreement between the Singapore and Thai governments for the provision of F-16 jet fighters in exchange for access to Thailand’s air force training facilities. Becoming a daily sight, one begins to wonder how these seemingly idyll skies are punctuated by a clear military presence – is it an interference, or is it a necessity to maintain the peace?

Untitled then gives way to Undrift, where Phinthong recreates a stock screensaver previously downloaded onto his personal computer by a Bangkok-based computer repair shop. Banknotes from hundreds of foreign currencies have been animated to soar and fall across the screen, but their rate of movement is in fact, tied to wind speed readings gathered from meteorological stations across Singapore. The notes are taken from Phinthong’s personal collection, and such an intervention using a readymade good considers the global systems of value, labour, and exchange, and the juxtaposition of what was once a physical product now displayed on a digital screen.

Just a little ways away is Sacrifice depth for breadth. On first sight, it appears to be an ordinary sheet laid on its side, bit is in fact, the key to its meaning lies in its materiality, where Phinthong worked with Chiang Mai-based papermakers, and transforming an abandoned hornet nest into a single sheet of handmade paper. Look closer and you’ll notice traces of dried-up fecal matter, pupa shells, wing membranes and other fragments embedded onto the surface of the paper pulp, presenting a literal record of nesting habits and activity. A series of videos hosted on YouTube showcases Phinthong’s attempts at manoeuvring an endoscope through the wasp nest to reveal the depth and complexity of its construction, unveiling these heretofore secret knowledge held by wasps to the world, before it is transformed and changed through human intervention into the handmade paper we see before us.

In the next work, we see Susanna, mounted on the wall. This recalls how in 2015, Phinthong travelled to Pattani in southern Thailand to meet with Zauquna, a community of widows whose lives were affected by the ongoing insurgency in their villages. In the predominantly Muslim province where the impact of differences in cultural identity, nation state and faith on life are keenly felt, Phinthong depicts the uncertainty and tension of everyday life for the widows through a series of photographic film strips. These film strips were then unspooled and exposed to light, leaving them as darkened film with no negative images, registering both the presence and absence of the women as a means to underscore the uncertainty of life amidst violence and cultural tension. The narrow slits between each film strip as displayed bear similarities to the narrow, elongated opening in a burkha, and once again, considers their symbolic materiality, and greater meaning from their provenance.

In the final work, we see two pyramids of containers filled with nam prik chilli paste, forming Nam Prik Zauquna. These were produced by the community of widows from Pattani, which then embodies the resilience and resourcefulness of informal economies as they sell these bottles to rebuild their livelihoods after having lost their spouses to insurgent violence. The work takes on new life and meaning as Phinthong commissioned 1,000 bottles of nam prik to be distributed to migrant workers in Singapore through the food distribution programme run by Transient Workers Count Too (TWC2), as part of their food programme, The Cuff Road Food Project, and the boundaries between art, labour and everyday life dissolve, fostering dialogue and collective reflection.

In considering the value of labour and materials, we then move on to Yee I-Lann’s Mansau-Ansau – a phrase meaning “to walk and walk” in the Dusun and Kadazan languages – as it symbolises an open-ended journey that encourages discovery for deeper cultural insights. The exhibition traverses two decades of Yee’s creation, addressing historical and contemporary narratives and knowledge with a focus on power, identity, and community. Through these themes, Yee invites audiences to consider the forces that shape Malaysia and, extending beyond Southeast Asia, global cultural and aesthetic landscapes. The exhibition begins with Kerbau, depicting a herd of water buffalos amidst orange traffic cones. This odd sight begs the question – how many of us have actually seen a water buffalo in person, as we wonder about how urbanisation has increased the rarity of such animals, and we consider if these buffalos are here to claim their space, or say a final goodbye.

Stepping into the first room, we are immediately greeted by Fluid World, a maritime map with Southeast Asia as its centre, produced using satellite images archived by Google Maps. Reminiscent of water with its overwhelming blue, one is reminded of how much these territories have been contested over the years, while the material it is printed on, silk twill, also receives a batik effect, finding some semblance of home despite all the competition and arguments.

In the same room, Sulu Stories is a personal favourite series, with several dioramas depicting shots of Sabah and the Southern Philippines. These images are collected from archives and libraries, while depicting unusual collisions of stories and mythologies, of both the fantastic and the modern, from monitor lizards to the Marcos’ with a giraffe, allowing us to imagine and consider the histories between the two nations and how many stories must have been shared. Right beside it, her Orang Besar series, referencing powerful people in terms of finance or political influence, prints what appear to be apocryphal depictions of the powerful and powerless in society accompanied by flora such as mimosas and pitcher plants, onto traditional cloths, a sharp commentary on parasitic and abusive power relations between the working and upper classes.

In the next room, focus is put onto Yee’s medium of choice – photography, with both her series Picturing Power and its successor Measuring Project. The former passes commentary on the history of colonial violence in Malaya in how tradition and ideas viewed as ‘barbaric’ by colonial masters were moulded out of fashion, the latter continues that narrative in the symbol of the woven mat, an act of resistance that encourages viewers to re-see and re-learn ancestral knowledge, where the answer to the future lies in the past.

Delving deeper into the innocuous everyday, we also see The Tukad Kad Sequence #01, referring to a basic stepped tessellated pattern that allows images to be woven in. Here, Yee has recreated her childhood bedroom, where she has depicted furniture such as a tossed table, the weave becoming a kind of pixel for new forms and spaces.

Extending upon that, all around the room, one sees more weaving-based artworks, including Flatten The Box, which weaves together found cardboard boxes, aluminium drink cans, aluminium ribbon strips into a traditional pattern, suggesting that we can never truly run away from tradition. These, alongside the TIKAR/MEJA/PLASTIK series, were woven by members of the Pertubuhan Wanita Kampung Song-Song (WANIS) and Bajau Sama DiLaut community, and we see images of the table (meja) in the woven mats (tikar), representing a passing down of heritage through the domestic sphere, with both mothers and daughters weaving these mats, and holding onto and preserving such indigenous knowledge belonging to the stateless coastal community, consistently threatened to be completely wiped out due to brutal administration and bureaucracy.

The final piece in the room lends it name to the exhibition overall – a map of Mansau-ansau, the name of an intricate weave created by Yee and her collaborators, forming a challenging new style that would constantly change its course, finally succeeding once intention was surrendered and the pattern was simply allowed to emerge. The word mansau-ansau in the Dusun and Kadazan languages means to wander almost nomadically, and its movement, as realised in this weave, can only be observed after it has found its path, creating a visual maze for the eye to follow.

In the final room, we come face to face with “hello from the outside”, comprising weavings of songs and lyrics that have become popular across communities and peoples, their lyrics inevitably causing one to sing along when read, including Guns N’ Roses’ ‘Sweet Child o’ Mine’ and Frank Sinatra’s ‘Fly Me To The Moon’, among others. Inevitably then, this room is about community and communing with each other, becoming clearer in the remainder of the works.

Central to the entire room is the video work PANGKIS. The word “pangkis” refers to the warrior cry of the Murut in Sabah, used to call the community together, signal victory and even protect one from harm. PANGKIS captures the performance of Sabah’s Tagaps Dance Theatre that combines traditional and contemporary movements to the sounds of this war cry whilst wearing the Murut lalandau jungle hat. Conventionally, the hat has spires representing trees of the jungle, adorned with feathers of the lalandau or argus bird. Instead, these spires are connected as if a canopy conjoining the warriors as their war cry is heard in reverse, its hypnotic sound returning into the body. Viewers are invited to remove their shoes and take a seat on the TEPO PUTIH (White Mat) for a kenduri, while the hat itself is also on display.

“Yee I-Lann and Pratchaya Phinthong are important voices in Southeast Asian contemporary art, each offering nuanced insights into the region’s evolving socio-political, environmental and cultural landscapes”, said Eugene Tan, CEO and Director of SAM. “Their practices challenge and enrich our understanding of contemporary issues. Yee, for example, addresses historical and contemporary narratives that navigate power, while Phinthong examines cultural and economic systems that structure modern life, inviting audiences to engage deeply with art that resonates with universal themes yet remains deeply rooted in Southeast Asia. These exhibitions continue our efforts to profile regional artists internationally, with Yee I-Lann: Mansau-Ansau curated with the intent to travel beyond and reach new audiences, further contributing to the global dialogue on contemporary art and its role in society, but from the perspective of Southeast Asia.”

In considering both the materiality that traces a clear throughline through both exhibitions, the ideas of passing on or evolving traditions, and a constant battle for the right to exist in the wake of colonialism or violence, both Yee and Phinthong have been given a unique opportunity with their respective exhibitions. This allows viewers to view their narratives, while also forming dialogues and conversations on these pertinent issues that speak to our identities and what it really means to be Southeast Asian, and all the histories and relationships that come with such a position, and in all, makes for a thought-provoking, visually appealing, and immersive experience at Tanjong Pagar Distripark.

Photo Credit: Singapore Art Museum

Yee I-Lan: Mansau-Ansau and Pratchaya Phinthong: No Patents on Ideas run from 4th December 2024 to 23rd March 2025 at SAM @ Tanjong Pagar Distripark.