I would like to thank the NAC for clarifying the many points made in
Kuo
Pao Kun's article, 'Give the arts free rein to bloom' (ST Nov 21), in
their enlightening letter entitled 'State, artists work together to
develop arts' (ST Dec 7). I had thought that Mr Kuo's article painted a
rather bleak picture of the arts scene in Singapore, but NAC's response
proved authoritatively and conclusively that the reality is even much
grimmer. In essence, the State will not divorce itself from the arts
and
will continually assert itself through its various mechanisms such as
censorship, funding and national recognition.
I am writing here from a position of someone who holds a deep interest
in the development of the arts in Singapore. I realise it would provide
a greater degree of involvement in the issue if I were to state
outright
that I am an artist. However, in Singapore it seems, the term 'artist'
has been corrupted through an act of dichotomy that is but one of the
many symptoms of a society in which the State insists on casting its
shadow over the arts community.
Singapore must be one of those few countries in the world where the
State divides artists, caste-like, into 'false' artists (the likes of
Josef Ng, whom B. G. Yeo himself has labelled a 'counterfeit artist')
as
well as 'true' artists (the likes of which, one presumes, eventually
move on to win the Cultural Medallion). Perhaps this phenomenon of
sorting out the 'charlatans' from the 'authentic' is a necessary
process
that provides standards and is a crucial component of critical
discourse. But what I find most profoundly disturbing is that this
validation and legitimisation is provided not so much by the artistic
community or even the public but by the Government. Artistic judgement
is not exercised by the public boycotting a 'distasteful' exhibition,
or
artists ostracising a member of its community, but by a State that
sticks warning labels on artists according to its whims. Hence, artists
that are on its 'blacklist' are denied performing licences whereas
those
that conscientiously steer clear of challenging the status quo receive
regular support.
In short, I am hesitant of declaring myself as an artist, because in
Singapore, only the State can deliver its decree on whether you are
one.
By extension, because your self-definition as an artist is decided by
the State, then so are the art works that you produce. So, in effect,
we
not only have a government that decides for us what is legal, ethical
or
moral, but also, by and large, what is 'artistic'.
The NAC rejects Mr Kuo's suggestion of more autonomy for the arts by
stating that "Artists are but one of the players in shaping and
developing the arts scene. The audience, the arts critics, the patrons
and sponsors, the tax-payers, the community and the Government are all
essential players as well." I believe this is true only when the arts
is
seen as a commodity to be exchanged and consumed. I understand that the
NAC finds patrons and sponsors essential components of their arts
facilitation activities, but I challenge the NAC to extract the
'artist'
from the above-mentioned matrix, and still be able to boast of an 'arts
scene'. The fact remains that the primary source of the artwork is the
artist.
Already the path towards translating a concept to form, a thought into
image, an impulse into sustained motion, is a difficult one. The last
thing an artist needs is to have bureaucrats trying to dictate the
trajectory of that path by sheer neglect, hollering threats,
withdrawing
funds, imposing their 'conservative' values and claiming that it
represents that of the electorate, and waving censorship flags. Some
artists, realising that such forms of interference are an insult to
one's right to self-determination and artistic destiny, have decided
that the best path to take is the first flight out of Singapore. Goh
Choo San, Ivan Heng and Margaret Tan are but two of many Singaporeans
who managed to make a name for themselves while overseas, and I do not
believe that the trend is abating, despite the Government having 'done
something right along the way'.
On a personal note, I myself have considered relocating to do my work
in
any place but here, be it writing for books or the stage, because at
least I will not be immediately suspected as a threat, with intentions
of destabilising public order. It is tedious and tiresome to be
persecuted by a Government which believes your work is 'politicised',
not realising that works political in nature are simply due to an
overwhelming State presence in the arts.
The NAC has rhetorically, and with a tinge of paranoia and
self-aggrandisement, asked Mr Kuo, 'Would the other essential players
agree to the Government surrendering its custodial and national
responsibilities to artists?' I would like to reverse the question and
ask, 'Would the other essential players agree to artists surrendering
their artistic responsibilities to the government?' Would a Cultural
Medallion mean as much to me if it, as has been pointed out, signals a
kind of endorsement not from the artistic community, but from
politicians, who at the same time are sentencing my fellow artists?
The Government cannot legislate the arts, despite its best intentions,
because the very nature of government is monolithic, and divisions in
opinion are usually absorbed into a singular position through
consensus-building. The government's stand is absolute, especially in
Singapore, where signs of dissent within the ranks are viewed as a
weakness. On the other hand, the arts flourishes when there is
conflict,
friction, disagreement, contradictions; generally the dialectics which
energise intellectual pursuit. The arts begin to die when a dominant
theme overtakes all discourse and starts breeding intolerance of
'deviant' forms. The Government is not the enemy of the arts; the real
enemy is homogeneity. Unfortunately, the latter can be unwittingly
propagated by the few in power who believe in dictating the tastes of
an
entire nation.
I do understand that it will take some time before the Government
realises that to provide the artistic community with more space does
not
necessarily mean that it is relinquishing control over a sphere which
it
had no right to regulate in the first place. Perhaps until that day
arrives, we should revise our own aspirations towards becoming a
Renaissance City. Instead we should call ourselves a Reconnaissance
City, where our artists work with increasing cynicism and
disillusionment under the steady, unflinching eye of the State.