|Untitled, Singapore (2012)|
1. The gallery in cooperation with the artist announces a call for second-hand white T-shirts (in wearable condition). For each T-shirt received by the gallery, the gallery will donate a set amount of money to an NGO that advocates migrant workers’ rights in the country where the gallery is based.
2. The artist randomly assigns a random name to be printed on each one of the second-hand T-shirts, in mirror image.
3. The gallery coordinates screen-printing of the names on the T-shirts, sub-contracting the process to a company in the cheapest neighbouring country.
4. The gallery coordinates production of an artist’s book in the form of a catalogue, with background of project and images of T-shirts, leaving empty space for name of buyers to be written (this may be produced during or after the exhibition).
1. T-shirts are to be hung on a clothes-rack. A mirror is installed near the rack.
2. In the case where space is an issue, the display can contain only a few of the T-shirts while the rest of the T-shirts are kept in storage. To service the visitors, the artist’s book is made available so that they can choose which T-shirt to buy or to try on.
1. Each T-shirt is a unique piece and is for sale, priced at the national standard of minimum wage per day, at the time of the batch release, in the country where the gallery is based. For the sale of each unique T-shirt, a unique certificate of the work signed by the artist is included.
2. Before purchasing a T-shirt, buyers are required to prove that they’re not buying a T-shirt inscribed with their own name.
3. The artist’s book is a unique piece for each batch release. This book is to be sold separately from the T-shirts at the end of each batch release.
4. Unsold T-shirts and book will be included in the next batch release.
(Note: In Singapore, the second hand shirts were collected in Singapore and Indonesia, and printed in Indonesia. In Singapore, there was no regulated national standard of minimum wage per day, and so following discussion with the gallery the price for each white shirt with a certificate signed by the artist was SGD50.)
Untitled, Singapore. Tintin Wulia 2012. Participatory installation with names printed in mirror image on second hand white shirts, and artist’s book. Shown at Duchamp in South East Asia at Equator Art Projects, Gilmann Barrack, Singapore.
Archive for the ‘my own che’
I must say that it seems to be working. I wore my Binna Choi t-shirt when I went on a train to Bairnsdale last Friday. I went in the gate, showing my ticket to the gate attendant, then realised I wanted to get snack. So I went out again.
At the entrance of the snack shop, I could see a surveillance video of myself on a TV monitor just above the door. Again, it was a mirror image. Binna Choi, says my t-shirt.
A few minutes before my train departs, I hurried in, showing my ticket again to the same gate attendant. He, however, didn’t look at my ticket at all. Instead, he pointed at my shirt and said “[unintelligible] Binna Choi?”
It’s unfortunate that I had to hurry to my train, so I just said to him, “Ah! You know me already!” and ran in.
In the train I imagined how a conversation would have gone on with him.
My own Che is a work examining the relationship between identity, individuality, belongingness and ownership. Che refers to the popular icon of t-shirts and self-determination Che Guevara. As part of this work I manually print people’s names on second-hand white t-shirts to be sold as commercial commodity. People can choose to buy the available single edition t-shirts with a name on it – they could buy one with their own name, their friend’s, or even with a name unfamiliar to them. The names are printed in mirror image, so that the wearer can read the name imprinted on their t-shirts while looking at their own images on the mirror.
|I wore my Binna Choi t-shirt yesterday. It was the first time I wore one of My own Che t-shirts for the whole day. It felt quite special. I felt quite special. Did I feel I was Binna Choi? No. Of course I felt that everyone was looking at me. I really felt, however, that especially a group of Koreans (whose nationality I certainly could not prove) stared at me as they walked past me. Did I feel like shouting to them I was not Binna Choi? Yes. Did I think they could make sense of what’s written on my t-shirt, namely “Binna Choi”, even when it’s mirrored? Yes. That was why I was convinced they were Korean. Vive la logique!|
|This t-shirt has made me think, the whole day, about my body and the mirror. It just made me realise so much that what I see of myself is not what people see of me. Never. I can only read this t-shirt properly in the mirror, and it says, there, BINNA // CHOI. That’s not how people read it! They would read it ANNIB // IOHC. When I try to imagine how they would see me in this t-shirt – by reflex I would just go look for a shiny window, or a mirror. There, it reads BINNA CHOI. It was a bit frustrating. I remember I kept thinking, I really want to see what they see! It was impossible. Except if someone would take a photograph of me now. But would that image be the real me?|
|My own Che is a work examining the relationship between identity, individuality, belongingness and ownership. Che refers to the popular icon of t-shirts and self-determination Che Guevara. As part of this work I manually print people’s names on second-hand white t-shirts to be sold as commercial commodity. People can choose to buy the available single edition t-shirts with a name on it – they could buy one with their own name, their friend’s, or even with a name unfamiliar to them. The names are printed in mirror image, so that the wearer can read the name imprinted on their t-shirts while looking at their own images on the mirror.|