Making the Mandi Bunga stencils

So in between sending personal emails to over 100 people who signed up for Mandi Bunga, finding yellow basins, dippers, flowers, limes, ordering 200m of yellow fabric and and and etc… I also need to do actual art stuff.

As in, shut off from the list-checking logistical wrangling email email email go go go go go go get it done adrenaline whirlwind… sit down, and MAKE THINGS. It’s like stepping into the one quiet room in an increasingly crazy house. I don’t know whether the tiny quiet room is keeping the whole house going, or vice versa. All I know is that I’m jumping back and forth, between the making and the MAKING IT HAPPEN, dragging, pushing and pulling this thing into existence.

Art. It’s a bloody process.

Ok, where was I? Actual art. Making things. Yes.

So here’s a look at how I designed the stencils that will be used in the sarong making workshops.

First, draw draw draw. Maybe it’s because anyone with access to a screen today is drowning in images, but lately I’ve found that if I want a visual outcome that has texture and quality, I have to base it on something real. I don’t draw because I’m married to the drawing process, but because there’s no other way of finding shapes that mean something to me.  I know googling ‘Chrysanthemum flower vector‘ would get me thousands of hits, but none of them would look like this – my shape is the product of time and observation; it comes directly from my world.

photo 5

Drawing is a good way of finding out what a kaffir lime really looks like. The puckered skin and that little hill where the stem shoots out is what makes it different from all the other limes:

stencils1

To get an outline for the stencil, I traced over the original drawing:

stencils2

Faber-Castell PITT artist pen = magic on tracing paper. Pitch black and doesn’t smudge:

stencils3

All done. My friend Aishah told me that the number of items in the flower bath has to be an odd number – e.g. 3, 5 or 7. That helped me decide how many stencil designs to make:

stencils4

Scanned into the computer and vectorized:

mandibunga_stencils_web

 

 

And finally sent to these talented people: Ijat and Tasniim of Awang Cutter Projex. They’ll be cutting out the stencils from lino (the stuff we use to line our floors and cupboards. Totally Malaysian material) with their magical laser machine. These guys are doing awesome things out of their light-filled studio in Ara Damansara. If you need anything engraved, or cut out to perfect precision, they’re the ones to meet!

awangcutter

Errhhhmerrrgeerrd I can’t wait to see (and show and USE) the stencils when they’re done!

~

Now, I need to open the door and step out of the quiet room…

… into the rest of the crazy house…

… and out into the world…

…where it’s all happening…

and where I have high hopes of colliding with you, dear reader and human.

~

Update (1 Oct 2013): The stencils! They are finished. And they are beyond awesome. Here they are hanging out to dry in the evening sun:

mandibungastencil1

Pretty shadows:

mandibungastencil2

Professional stencils are usually made out of mylar, which is hard to source and quite expensive. You can get this lino stuff all over Malaysia. It’s cheap, strong, and flexible – the perfect alternative. A sharp exacto-knife will cut this stuff beautifully. Try it!

Malaysia/Medusa: Now that I see her

First, news from from the epic project front. “Mandi Bunga/Flower Bath” for Singapore Biennale 2013 officially launched last Thursday, if by launching you mean my comrades from Commas and Industry posted it on Facebook, while I stayed glued to my computer, freaking out.

Man, I was anxious. Every project scares me to hell, but the fear-levels with this one surprised even me.  Would people ignore it? Would I have to beg in the streets for 100 people to join? Failure? Fail? Fail? FAIL? I didn’t realize until that moment how much this project means to me. For reasons I’ve yet to discover, I’ve put more on the line here – artistically, emotionally – than I ever have before.

(It may have something to do with this being a kind of ‘swan song’ before embarking on a new path that’s been two years in the making. But that’s coming straight from the unformed soup part of my brain; I should leave it there to cook until it’s done.)

The response to “Mandi Bunga” has been awesome. Humbling. Great. You guys shared that thing like a steamboat dinner! Thank you. I love you. We’ve passed the 100 mark, so I’m putting sign-ups on hold for now, while we figure out if we can fit more people in. You can still sign-up to get project updates. I will send you news and special stuff like sneak peeks at my sketchbook.

Yes, dear people, Happy Malaysia Day. We are 50 years old.

To celebrate, I drew Medusa, wearing nationalized Kanye shutter shades.

I’m not sure why, beyond acting on orders from the aforementioned great unformed soup, which is basically another name for my subconscious mind.

malaysiamedusa_web(Click image to embiggen)

I think she says something about how I see Malaysia, or rather, how I refuse to see her properly, for fear of being turned to stone.

Medusa is one of those great stories, as deeply rooted and as unbreakable as Macbeth. In greek mythology, she’s a Gorgon, a monster with snakes for hair and the power to turn anyone who looks at her into stone. She’s beheaded by a hero named Perseus, who then gives her head to Athena, goddess of war. Athena puts Medusa’s head on a shield called the Aegis, which becomes a powerful symbol of protection.

The other version of her story is much more tragic: Medusa was a ravishingly beautiful human maiden. Poseidon, god of the sea, raped her in one of Athena’s temples. The enraged and victim-blaming Athena turned Medusa into a snake-haired monster, with a face so hideous that all who looked at her would turn to stone.

I used Bernini’s incredibly beautiful, 17th Century marble sculpture of Medusa as reference for my drawing. The nose is mine though. And the lips were inspired by Vivian Lee’s (of #Alvivi). I think it’s safe to say Bernini based his Medusa on the tragic version of her story:

La-Medusa-di-Gian-Lorenzo-Bernini

I drew my Malaysia Day Medusa without the shades at first:

MalaysiaMedusa_eyes

I added them so that we could look at her without turning to stone.

And also… so that she could look at us without turning US to stone.

I realize that I’m drawing Malaysia as a monster, which isn’t in the, you know, spirit of celebration, national pride, togetherness, etc.

But that’s how I see her, with racism, corruption, fundamentalism, ignorance and intolerance crowning her beautiful head. I draw her so that I can see her for what she is, and not be tempted by a nostalgic vision of peace and harmony.

I draw her so that I can learn not to be afraid of her.

The thing is, now that I see her like this, she’s more beloved to me than ever.

Image of Gian Lorenzo Bernini’s Head of Medusa from here.