Showing off our visual arts By Mas Zetti Atan
Publisher:The Star - Publication Date: 16-06-2008

In the beginning, in 1958, there were only four. Half a century on, there are 3,700. So, how do you showcase half a century of art collecting? The National Art Gallery decided to show all 3,700 pieces in its collection, albeit in rotation.
From the perspective of art display, it is a mammoth undertaking. From the perspective of exhibition curating, it is a mammoth task, too.
From the perspective of art promotion and marketing, it is a huge challenge to position the exhibition properly and effectively.
I chose to visit the Susurmasa (Timelines) exhibition on a Sunday. I was not worried that I would be caught in a crush of people visiting the gallery even though the schools were on a break at the time.
There was a Malay mother in her late 30s with four school-going children in tow, and there were two couples strolling through the galleries at the two different times that I was there. And there were the participants of a portrait workshop, although they broke up for lunch just as I reached the area where they were learning the finer points of portraiture.
I was right. The National Art Gallery was its usual quiet, deserted self when there are no events to which people are invited.
Sure, there were the nice and friendly girls at the reception. They did not stand up to greet visitors but they were friendly and asked me to sign the visitors’ book. They were not able to answer my questions about public programmes or supporting activities for the exhibition other than the portrait workshop, but they very kindly asked me to visit their website to get those information.
What I discovered is that Susurmasa is a walk through time for Malaysian visual art. At least that is what the exhibition’s free brochure says: the Malaysian Visual Art Timelines exhibition.
Regardless of whether that mouthful was chosen by the curatorial team or the marketing team, that chose the name, gallery claims this exhibition is a once-in-half-a-century phenomenon. Since very few of us live to 100 or beyond, it is, by implication, a once-in-a-lifetime phenomenon. For the Malaysian visitors to the exhibition, it is a once-in-a-lifetime chance to see the country’s entire national art collection, part of which would have been paid for with public –tax payers’ – money. Your money and mine.
Interesting juxtaposition
Arriving at the gallery’s car park, I was greeted by a display of totem poles. Unfortunately, I did not realise immediately that the outdoor display is a part of Susurmasa. A weatherproof information board would have helped; maybe there is one but I did not see it as I walked alongside the display. I’m accustomed to seeing such poles in Malaysian museums, so I did wonder briefly why they were at an art gallery in abundance.
I walked up the steps (the up escalator going was “not working”) and into a lobby that had been converted and designed to represent the beginning of Malaysian visual art (if I read the exhibition correctly): our prehistoric art. Then, the display of “pre-historic and indigenous” carvings were juxtaposed with an installation by Zulkifli Yusoff a little further on inside the gallery.
Curatorially very interesting!

Wood contrasted with metal. Conceptual versus the practicality of the business of living. Intellectual versus functionality.
I felt at ease at this exhibition, as if I were seeing and meeting old friends. The feeling remained as I walked through the Iconic Works section. And then it struck me: after seeing name after familiar name. Just about everyone was represented there. I played a game with myself: seeing the work of one artist, I wondered if another, of the same school, would also be represented. I turned a corner and, hey, there he was.
Maybe not every single Malaysian artist is represented in Susurmasa (at least in the Iconic Works and Contemporary sections). But pretty much most of the known names are.
This made me ponder the size of the exhibition and how artworks had been selected for display. Even if Susurmasa has been sub-divided into six mini exhibitions, the size of each is daunting taken in the context of the whole. I wonder whether a smaller display not influenced by the “include all and offend none” approach would have been more effective.
Importance of information
“Ala, tu gambar aje (it’s just a picture)!” was the reply I overheard the Malay mother give when her son asked a question about one of the Iconic Works.
Many hours would have been spent in choosing that work, in hanging it. What a pity the relevance of the painting and its role in the evolution of Malaysian visual art was lost on the very few of our future generation who bothered to come to the gallery instead of hanging out at shopping centres.
It may sound trite to some but I think we really need to ask the question: who is the target audience of the art displays at state galleries and at the National Art Gallery? Surely it is not just the VIPs that graced the opening ceremonies; nor should it be the bureaucrats that administer our arts and culture bodies be they at state or federal level.
And surely these displays are not just for the art community – the artists, the curators, the learned – that claim (state and national) art galleries as their domain.
Although some may feel it is not polite to actually say so, the fact remains that our national (and state) art collections and the buildings that house them, are funded by the people.
Hence, surely the people should also be considered.
The people who put these exhibitions together should not assume that it’s a case of the emperor and his new clothes, that those who fail to understand the exhibition or its relevance are stupid.
An important exhibition like the display of 50 years of visual art making in Malaysia should not be there only for those who know about these things. Ordinary people, like that mother and her four school-going kids, have every right to be able to understand what the display is about.
The way to ensure that is, to begin with, by providing more informational signs. Be generous with their quantity. Not just at the entrance to the different sections, or at the beginning of the display. Bi-lingual at least. And carefully edited and proofread, please.
At the Galeri Kanak-kanak (Children’s Gallery), I “discovered” that Latiff Mohiddin is the son of Datuk Syed Ahmad Jamal. Really! It said so in the informational text at the entrance to the gallery: Latiff Mohiddin Datuk Syed Ahmad Jamal.
Of course, anybody remotely connected to Malaysian visual art, let alone the people working at the National Art Gallery, would know that these two visual arts giants are not related to each other. This was obviously a typo. But would a child visiting the Galeri Kanak-kanak know that? I bet some adults wouldn’t know that, either.
Am I being overly fussy? But surely it is vital that we pass on accurate information to our children?
And then there is the urgent need for an English language editor on the exhibition team. The English language translation of the informational text for the Galeri Kanak-kanak said:
“What is time? How can we understand history while walk through time?
“When you saw and experience the Timelines exhibition which in conjunction “with the 50th Anniversary of National Art Gallery, you will know how time and history of Malaysian Visual Art being exhibited from Cave Painting to Contemporary Art.
“We will walk through 6 ages wood tree rings in this Gallery and you will surely know how it happens. Together with the masterpieces from Muhd Hossien Enas,
“Latif Mohiddin Datuk Syed Ahmad Jamal, Yeoh Jin Leng and many more, let us together take a walk and go beyond time to search for the answer ?.” (Quotations marks are writer’s additions.)
Make it digestible
Now, I do realise we Malaysians have a thing for superlatives; we love having the tallest, biggest, longest. But that doesn’t always work, especially when it comes to art exhibitions.
I feel it would have been more effective to have six different exhibitions displaying the national collection instead of one huge one. Each of the six exhibitions could last two months at a time, perhaps, with ample educational programmes and supporting activities. And as each exhibition ended its run at the National Art Gallery, it could tour nationally.
That way, the gallery would still have been able to show off all 3,700 items. And the public would have had the opportunity to see all the 3,700 items, too. A little bit at a time, in digestible portions that would give the visitor the space and distance to take it all in, slowly.
Consider too the possibility of having six different exhibitions curated by six different (teams of) curators including guest curators.
And perhaps take the opportunity to launch a Young Curator programme. It would be a significant step towards addressing the severe lack of curators and art writers in this country by creating a pool of new curators to augment the existing pool.
Content wise, six exhibitions displayed at different times would provide the curators with the space and flexibility necessary to further explore the various themes presented in the current exhibition.
For example, the concept of art as therapy presented in the Contemporary section is not yet as widely known as it should be. It is a concept that the National Art Gallery could champion through educational activities supporting a stand-alone exhibition. Instead of it being “buried” within a large exhibition such as Susurmasa.
Having said all that, the Susurmasa exhibition is still worth a visit; at the very least we, the public, would know how our art trustees have handled the responsibility of putting and maintaining a national collection of art that tells of the essence of us Malaysians.
Mas Zetti Atan studied Political Science and Kesenian Melayu (Malay art) at university where an encounter with a painting by a local artist ignited a passion for modern Malaysian art. She has been involved in organising art exhibitions for almost a decade.
For enquiries on ‘Susurmasa’, call 03-4025 4990 or go to artgallery.gov.my.

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