by Jessica Lai –

Donna Ong is an artist, educator and arts administrator. In her practice, Donna uses found objects in elaborate installations that are more akin to stage sets. There is a theatrical quality to her work—almost like the objects could come alive or we anticipate actors to appear. Looking at works such as Secret, interiors: Chrysalis (20-22) (2006) and Landscape Portraits (In a Beautiful Place Nearby) (2009) one forgets entirely that one is looking at common everyday objects.

My first encounter with Ong’s work, during the President’s Young Talents exhibition in 2009, was bewildering. There were so many fascinating things to look at. She had included two works in this show. Dissolution (2009) consisted of a long acrylic block made up of layers. Sandwiched between the layers were pieces of Chinese Ink paintings. The sensation of depth, an abstract concept in Chinese Ink Painting, was suddenly tangible and real. I could literally see into the painting. Landscape Portraits (2009) was equally intriguing. I entered a darkened narrowing space where the only thing obvious at first was an image of what seemed to be a coral bed at the bottom of the sea. It took me a minute more to realise that the “corals” were actually made of nails, screws and other bits of metal hardware; and that the image was actually a video projection of the real objects laid alongside the corridor. The meticulous nature of her work could be due to her training as an architect. These two works were indeed exquisitely made and I was left a little in awe.

Her past works have been described as “transcendental”¹. These miniature landscapes made of cut up of glassware, Chinese Ink paintings and metal bolts and screws; secret rooms filled with personal objects that represent private, hidden thoughts, are other-worldly. These works ignite the imagination and allow the viewer to create their own narratives in their imagination. In Sixth Day (2008), it’s almost like you are entering Donna’s personal space². Indeed, one feels like a voyeur. No doubt Ong invites us into these spaces but one gets the feeling that they are treading in private spaces; meant to be hidden and precious.

Bewildering and transcendental Ong’s works may be but after that early encounter with her work in 2009, I was left wondering how the works fit into the larger context of art making in the region. After all, these works do not fit into other labels which we have become used to in the discourse about Southeast Asian contemporary art. Terms like “social commentary”, “art as voice and empowerment”³, “neo-traditionalism” and “community-based art project”⁴ do not apply. Perhaps, it is because Ong spent most of her adult life in the United Kingdom that she feels she does not know enough to speak about socio-political issues. Perhaps it is as Enin Suprianto⁵ says of “post-contemporary”⁶ artists, who in a time where there is more freedom of expression, are struggling less with political oppression and censorship. They become more introspective, more self-reflexive and contemplative.⁷

By Ong’s own admission, her practice is not the “social activist” type⁸. Rather, Ong begins each work by drawing from, as she puts it, “an honest place”. Her own hopes and fears are reflected in her works like Sixth Day which stems from Ong’s own insecurities about her health. However, the work contains metaphors for the potential of life—the egg representing hope of new beginnings. The title itself alludes to the book of Genesis in the Bible in which God created the earth in six days and then rested on the seventh. Hence the work is actually about the binary relationship between despair and hope, barrenness and life. These kinds of about contradicting dualities are present in other works. In Chrysalis, one of the judges chambers contains a miniature version of a larger work titled Crystal City (2009), except this crystal landscape is contained within a cupboard representing a cave that is both comforting and terrifying. Ong’s inspiration came from a story about the Sun goddess of Japan. She hid in a cave because her brother bullied her and found comfort in the darkness. However, had she not allowed herself to be cajoled into emerging, the world itself would have been in darkness. Ong’s allegory of the cave represents her internal struggle to continually step out of her comfort zone. Her works remind us that inner dualities exist within us all and we all struggle with ourselves privately.

Sixth Day, 2009

In 2011, Ong decided to take up the Masters programme for fine art at Lasalle. Part of her reason for doing so was that she felt her work needed a new direction. She had been getting comments that her work had become “consistent” or predictable. Ong’s recent work for the MA programme continues her theme of landscape but this time the landscapes themselves are the found objects. One work (in progress) which she presented at the MA Fine Art symposium in October 2011 consisted of screen shots of archetypal landscapes from movies. The landscape then becomes the site of the quest narrative; stories about the journey of the protagonist towards enlightenment and self-actualisation. Hence, the landscape itself becomes an allegory for the protagonist’s inner mind and his eventual salvation.

Another current work consists of found images of botanical illustrations and Renaissance images of the Virgin Mary. The botanicals create a garden in which Mary resides. One Mary if full of hope as she awaits the annunciation. The other, at the moment of Christ’s death, realizes the hope she once had is now lost. For Ong, these Renaissance paintings are familiar and comforting. These were the images she grew up with as a child and informed her early ideas about what Art was. Perhaps Ong’s decontextualization of the Virgin Mary is akin to her own sense of disjuncture. Ong has to continually reconcile her adopted Western Art History “heritage” with that of the Singaporean context which she has returned to. This work could be an allegory for the disjuncture we all feel in a globalized world where geographical spaces are increasingly sites of plurality, ambiguity and negotiation.

Of course, Ong’s current works are still just works in progress and it is premature to make definitive assessments about where her practice is headed. However, what seems to be a constant is that Ong’s works are meant to be read on many levels and there is no single construct of meaning. Her works are self-referential but also universal in that they are allegories that reflect the binary nature of the human condition.

Jessica Lai graduated from the MA Asian Art Histories programme in 2012. This essay was originally published in Praxis Press, a periodical of the Faculty of Fine Arts at LASALLE College of the Arts.