Fresh Face: Odelia Tang

Personal ruminations into pain negotiation

A&M's Fresh Face is where we profile an emerging artist from the region every month and speak to them about how they kick-started their career, how they continue to sustain their practice and what drives them as artists.

Odelia Tang with her work ‘COILING’ (2020). Image courtesy of the artist and RKFA.

Odelia Tang with her work COILING (2020). Image courtesy of the artist and RKFA.

In a video excerpt for an exhibition at Richard Koh Fine Art, A Decade Apart / Together, Singapore artist Odelia Tang quoted the contemporary Japanese artist Fuyuko Matsui: “Pain is something we can sympathetically feel, a condition pointing to a more intuitive realm of communication.” It became a catalyst for Odelia to develop her practice around the negotiation of pain, identity and the unconscious. Working across painting, drawing and sculptural installations, she imbues her materials with metaphorical meanings to relate the universal feeling of affliction.

 
Odelia Tang, Here Is Where I Lost 2, 2021, untampered glass shards, acetone paint, industrial glue, insulation foam spray, wood board, 45 x 45cm. Image courtesy of the artist and RKFA.

Odelia Tang, Here Is Where I Lost 2, 2021, untampered glass shards, acetone paint, industrial glue, insulation foam spray, wood board, 45 x 45cm. Image courtesy of the artist and RKFA.

 

Incorporating objects like synthetic hair, blades, broken mirrors and glass, Odelia puts together poetic assemblages that articulate visceral emotions of physical and psychological sufferings. In Here Is Where I Lost 2 (2021), she layers and adheres raw shards of black-coated glass with her hands, creating a precarious and ominous relief. The art-making process is a tactile ritual necessary for Odelia to understand how the material should be treated, in order to convey intangible emotions embedded within the subconscious. Borrowing the inherent characteristics of each material, she meticulously builds up suspended moments of tension and vulnerability.

Odelia Tang, Time is the Weight I Carry, 2019, synthetic hair and tulle, 120 x 480cm. Image courtesy of the artist.

Odelia Tang, Time is the Weight I Carry, 2019, synthetic hair and tulle, 120 x 480cm. Image courtesy of the artist.

Odelia Tang, LAW (Portrait Series), 2019, wooden embroidery hoop and synthetic hair, dimensions variable. Image courtesy of the artist.

Odelia Tang, LAW (Portrait Series), 2019, wooden embroidery hoop and synthetic hair, dimensions variable. Image courtesy of the artist.

Odelia’s practice explores permutations of ordinary but universally understood materials. Time is the Weight I Carry (2019) and LAW (Portrait Series) (2019) are two distinct works utilising synthetic hair on different scales. While the former weaves an excessive quantity of hair into a free-flowing, monochromatic tapestry, the latter entraps a knotted bundle of the same material within an embroidery hoop. Presented in such contrasting states, a single medium can evoke a familiar yet still disconcerting sense of pressure and confinement. In stripping down each work to its essential form, Odelia invites viewers to be up close and personal with it to engage with one’s inner world. 

With an emphasis on being present and honest in her artistic journey, Odelia bares her vulnerabilities in hopes of speaking to the pain of others. Reflecting on her education, she relates how important it is to “independently and bravely navigate one’s personal practice to develop it best.” As she continues to experiment with new-found materials purposefully, Odelia’s practice grows with unchanging authenticity.


Interview

Odelia Tang, Waiting for the Other Shoe, 2021, exhibition view at Richard Koh Fine Art, Singapore. Image courtesy of the artist and RKFA.

Odelia Tang, Waiting for the Other Shoe, 2021, exhibition view at Richard Koh Fine Art, Singapore. Image courtesy of the artist and RKFA.

You have a background in visual communication and illustration, before pursuing a Bachelor’s in Fine Arts at LASALLE. What motivated this decision? And how would you describe your art education experience?  

Pursuing fine art was the last thing in my mind. In hindsight, there were a number of influences that pointed me towards an education in fine art that I stubbornly rejected at first, because of preconceived biases and the stigmas of making a living as an artist. That said, I always desired creative expression and articulation. It was only that I felt like my skill set at that time was inadequate for putting these thoughts across. 

My art education experience was a mixed bag, which I reckon is mostly due to my previous training. In comparison to visual communication, the realm of fine art is more open and fluid. Because of the subjective nature of art, it is a significantly less controlled environment. Initially, it was a struggle for me as I did not dare to be vulnerable. As opposed to being “sanitary” and removed from the creation process, art demands the self to be present and honest. I learnt early that it was important to independently and bravely navigate one’s personal practice to develop it best. Art school was an immersive experience because of the tutors, some of whom I am happy to now call friends. They had so much to share and helped me along the way.

“As opposed to being “sanitary” and removed from the creation process, art demands the self to be present and honest. I learnt early that it was important to independently and bravely navigate one’s personal practice to develop it best.”

 
Odelia Tang, AUGUST, 2020, woodboard, polyurethane, foam putty, knife, untempered glass, mirror shards, acrylic paint and tulle fabric, 120 x 90cm. Image Courtesy of the artist and RKFA.

Odelia Tang, AUGUST, 2020, woodboard, polyurethane, foam putty, knife, untempered glass, mirror shards, acrylic paint and tulle fabric, 120 x 90cm. Image Courtesy of the artist and RKFA.

 

How have you maintained your practice after graduating in 2018? What are the important factors that kept you going?

I have been balancing doing commercial work and my personal practice before and during my time in school. As such after graduating, it felt like I was going back to life as usual. I think I am innately driven to make, and this has only intensified with the opportunities I have had, as well as the people I have met and collaborated with along the way. I would be doing myself a great disservice if I gave up, so I never did. 

Who has been a mentor or an important artistic influence? And why?

I owe much to my mentors Jackson Tan of PHUNK Studio and Fariszwan Fajari (SpeakCryptic) who were influential in my earlier years. After receiving my diploma, I participated in my first group exhibition under the Phunk apprenticeship programme Transmission. Later, I met Farizwan through the National Art Council’s NOISE apprenticeship programme. Through their mentorship, I learnt to listen to myself and to make what comes naturally. It opened up my world.

I am also deeply influenced by Louise Bourgeois, Alexander McQueen and Fuyuko Matsui. They have each found a way to beautifully and elegantly transcribe concepts through their work.

What was one important piece of advice you were given?

 That less is more, but sometimes more is also more.

 
Odelia Tang, Words, 2021, dripping medium, black 2.0 paint, steel knives on wood mounted honeycomb board, 21 x 29.7cm (canvas dimensions). Image courtesy of the artist and RKFA.

Odelia Tang, Words, 2021, dripping medium, black 2.0 paint, steel knives on wood mounted honeycomb board, 21 x 29.7cm (canvas dimensions). Image courtesy of the artist and RKFA.

 

Waiting For The Other Shoe at Richard Koh Fine Art will be your first solo exhibition with a commercial gallery. How did the opportunity come about? And what can viewers expect? 

Last year, I had the opportunity to be a part of the group exhibition A Decade Apart/Together, where I presented two works, AUGUST and COILING. This solo show was conceived right after. It reflects an extended, more personal rumination into pain negotiation. Viewers can expect this idea to be developed into several branches of thought as I work with objects of the self, objects of pain and objects of comfort.

The exhibition title came quite intuitively for me because it went to the root of my relationship to pain. It comes from the phrase “waiting for the other shoe to drop” which holds two meanings: to defer action or decision until another matter is finished or resolved; and to await a seemingly inevitable event.  I am stuck in a perpetual suspension, if you will, between expecting an inevitable event within, and yet only fixating on it because I want it to be over.

Synthetic hair, blades, broken mirrors and glass are important materials in your recent body of work. Could you talk about their significance to the key themes your practice explores?

I want to confront pain directly, and therefore these objects are metaphors for physical and mental hurt. I can better connect to the pains I am negotiating by using these materials, through the way they look and feel. We may not have been cut or injured by them, but our nerves know exactly how that would feel like. My Words, Actions, Promises, Apologies and Here is Where I Lost series engage with these sensations. 

It is important to me to experience my work intimately as opposed to making something meant to be viewed from afar. When it came to Here is Where I Lost, there was a visual I wanted to see through after making AUGUST. That first attempt working with glass was done with protection. I wore gloves which stopped me from touching my material and wounding me. Both works are embedded by a mix of glue and polyurethane foam. HIWIL requires me to press glass into the mixture which I do with my bare hands, followed by gently cleaning, cutting away glue and foam. Touching each piece is necessary to know how it is to be treated as it is not always obvious if something is on or under the clear glass.

Words and its siblings in the series was where I first attempted working with a new type of material, honeycomb board. It was extremely hard with an internal lattice structure but is also easy to cut and stab into. Everything I put onto the painting surface, I do so with purpose.

“It is important to me to experience my work intimately as opposed to making something meant to be viewed from afar.”

Black and white are the predominant colours in your work. Is there a reason for working with this limited palette? 

It is not a conscious choice to work with a limited palette. I suspect that the graphic quality of black and white is the best form for the ideas I want to represent. In the future, more colour may come through but for now, my works do not call for them.

Could you share your favourite art space or gallery in your country? Why are you drawn to that space and what does it offer to you?

 The Private Museum. Through its programmes, I have been exposed to the art community and industry, meeting many friends, artists, collectors and gallerists. I also frequent the space because my partner works there.

What are your hopes for your own local art scene, and regionally as well?

I hope that the local scene will continue to be more vivid and honest, as we bravely show the region and world what we have to offer.  

Are there any upcoming exhibitions/projects that you would like to share more information on?

I have been offered a studio tenancy at Aliwal Art space, so I am in the process of moving into the space, developing more works and opening up to more collaborations.

Ian Tee

Ian Tee is Editor at A&M. He is interested in how learning experiences can be shared among practitioners across generations and contexts. In his writings and commissioned texts, he hopes to highlight the regional and international connections that sustain art ecosystems. Ian is also an artist whose work is concerned with the experience of seeing and how paintings are “read”. Of late, he is reflecting on what it means to practice and the forms it could take.

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