February, 2021. Opening night of Glass Armours at Gallery Lane Cove.
We must be getting somewhat used to how my entries here are generally after the fact (what can I say journaling can be hard and it’s always best to live in the moment when it’s happening right?) But in a way, writing it after the fact allows me some time to process and reflect deeply on all that’s happened rather than just give a recount.
I remember when Rachael Kiang (the manager and curator of Gallery Lane Cove) first approached me in September last year (2020) to invite me to do a solo exhibition at her gallery as part of a 4 venue program, now known as the Lunar North Confluence, which focuses on the practices of Chinese Australian artists.
I went in for an initial meet and greet, to see the space that was going to be allocated to me 5 months later and I remember the absolute excitement and dread that ensued in that week. I couldn’t sleep for days agonizing over how big the space was and how small my works would look in a 9 by 9 meter room. Especially considering how my worst nightmare as an artist is having a solo exhibition and not having enough work to hold up the space so I had been putting off having a solo for a really long time as I worked to develop a body of work I could be proud of. But the space was gorgeous and I had some time, 5 months was a little tight working with glass where one artwork could easily take half a year to make, but as they say time waits just long enough for those who use it wisely.
The next 5 months were intense.
I don’t think I have ever worked so hard in my life. Everyday I was sculpting, molding, polishing, hammering, carving and making; working desperately towards a deadline. It was liberating. Before then I didn’t realized how tied down I felt by all the proposal and submissions I was writing up (one big surprise about being an artist is that it requires an inordinate amount of writing and not just writing, rejection after putting all the time into a proposal), it was all eating into my time and energy for actually making art. It’s hard to be motivated when you don’t know how or where you will exhibit your work after you’ve made it. So now that I had a vision to work towards I felt free. Ideas flowed forth, it gave me a chance to dream again and motivation to work on all those projects I had on the back burner came in torrents.
But even if the spirit was high, sometimes your body just can’t keep up though I surprised myself with how many times I managed to coax my body past its limits, constantly telling myself I can rest in March when everything was well and truly done. That now was the time to do and I can crash into my burnout later. It’s amazing what a deadline will do for you. So if you’re a young artist like myself, give yourself a chance and take on an ambitious project that you care about and you’ll be amazed by how capable you actually are.
I can’t tell you how wonderful it was to see all my work in one place and how much work it actually took to put it all up (there was a lot of shuffling around and considering and minds being changed). Working on this exhibition made me think of space in a whole new dimension and I am so lucky to have the help of experienced art installers and a curator like Rachael Kiang who understood the space intimately and could intuitively figure out how the audience would feel navigating the exhibition. I had general suggestions of how I would like the work to be seen - the Birdsong series a little segmented away from the other pieces and the Portal at the entrance of the exhibition there to both greet and challenge the audience to enter the space as it is the façade that guards my inner thoughts, which every piece in the exhibition is.
After 3 full days of install (where Jenna, Jo, my dad and I worked tirelessly), everything was up and I wondered the room alone in almost a trance. It was strange thinking that this was 5 years of work and hard to believe that these were all my creations that I have sweated, bled and cried over haha. There was an indescribable joy in my heart and I think it was a sense of belonging. A moment of ‘oh’. I don’t know how to describe it, I think if I did it would be gone.
The exhibition itself was an amazing experience but not for the reasons I expected. At the opening I saw curators, artists and art enthusiasts but I also saw people I had not seen in a decade, my friends from all the different social circles that I had engaged in at one point of my life came and for me it was like a colliding of worlds. I imagine it was what a wedding would feel like, a gathering of all the people you know who want to support you. I didn’t even know I had so many friends! I felt privileged to have created a space for people who may never have otherwise met talk and connect. Because what is an exhibition good for if not to spark conversation? What is a conversation good for if not to make friends out of strangers?
Glass Armours
NC QIN SOLO EXHIBITION
3 - 27 February 2021, Gallery Lane Cove
This exhibition focuses on the complexity of identity, separating our ego from our self into a physical manifestation of the heavy glass armour that we carry in our lives. Despite the project being composed of glass sculptural objects, my work is always about the humanity and the story of the piece, the object never quite the central subject matter but letting itself be shaped around an absent human subject. The cast glass armour is constructed with the cultural acknowledgement of the symbology and iconography of armours to Asian culture; as a mark of status and an object of familial and patriotic pride and expectation. By using glass to create the armour I render it ineffective in its mechanism for defence, with the aim of subverting its meaning and to explore themes of guilt, shame and repression that are often sourced from frustrated efforts to attain an ideal that is fostered by expectation, particularly within Asian social structures.