interview

Spectacles – Cermin Mata: A Conversation

On 20 Feb 2016, I sat down to have a conversation in public with Sze, my friend and cohort. I’d been wanting to do a talk about taking part in APT8 (8th Asia Pacific Triennial of Contemporary Art), but was tired with the usual slideshow-followed-by-Q&A format. Sze suggested doing the talk as an interview, which she’d experienced and been inspired by while studying in the UK. I loved it immediately.

We’d actually been conversing for months – since the middle of last year, when she interviewed me for her Masters thesis about politics, art and public space in Malaysia. Talking with Sze – in bars and cafes, on gchat or email or SMS – has been like getting into a trolley cart with my thoughts and ideas. Everything moves forward, inch by steady inch.

This time though, we were gonna talk in front of an audience.

It was experiment for the both of us. My relationship to speaking is not the same as the one I have with writing. My spoken voice feels to me the weakest muscle in my possession – I can hardly put any weight on it; I just don’t know what it will and won’t do. But as Durga Chew-Bose, one of my favorite writers today, says: ‘I do believe there is a power in conversation and dialogue. I think the transcribed voice for women is really important to women because the essay voice is edited and we’re self-editing from the day we’re little girls’.

AUDIO

Below is a full, unedited recording of the talk. We’ve ‘mapped’ the conversation with quotes and comments to help navigate the 1 hour 40mins of audio. It’s in two formats:

1) Sze visualized the talk using Timeline JS, a free, open source tool originally developed for journalists. Click through the timeline to see quotes, links, photos and comments that follow the flow of the conversation. To scroll through: point your cursor to the bottom of the timeline, click and drag left or right. The audio is embedded as a Soundcloud track in the second slide, click to play. Access the timeline separately here.

2) Click to play the Soundcloud track. Topics, quotes, comments and links are arranged according to timestamps in the Google spreadsheet below. Access the spreadsheet separately here.

ZINE

I made a zine for people to use as a notebook to scribble or doodle in during the talk. Here it is in PDF format, available for download.

LINKS

Artist Shika/Shieko Reto blogged about the talk HERE.

Liyana Dizzy and Syar S. Alia recorded an amazing conversation of their own about Spectacles HERE (or click on the image below). It’s full of insights and totally worth your time.

CREDITS

Many thanks to Ronnie Khoo for producing the audio recording.

Image of the talk from audience member Hing Lim’s Facebook post.

“Spectacles – Cermin Mata: (Goh) Sze (Ying) interviews Sharon (Chin) about taking part in APT8 (8th Asia Pacific Triennial of Contemporary Art)“ was a conversation on 20 Feb 2016 at Awe Gallery.

Fertilizer Fridays: Gabrielle Bates

Roadtrip is behind, New Year is ahead, and Fertilizer Friday is baaaaack!

Fertilizer Fridays are interviews with artist friends. It’s about honest, casual conversation, sharing ideas + busting myths about being an artist/making art.

I met Gabrielle in 2008, when we found ourselves stuck halfway up a hill at the RBS-Malihom Residency Programme in Balik Pulau, Penang. Together we weathered isolation, bugs, creative difficulty and extreme weather. I couldn’t have asked for a better residency companion.

Gabrielle is now based back in Sydney, but has been and continues to be frequently found in South East Asia. In fact, she’s spending this December at Cherrycake Studios, Penang! Here she talks with warmth and honesty about travel, being an outsider and what it means to belong…

Self-portrait with Red Beads, 2005

Just like everyone else, artists have good days and bad days. Could you describe what your working day is like, a good one and a bad one?

a) GOOD:

Usually in the latter stages of concept development. Ideas flow and make sense, productivity is high. Shit shines, I know what I’m doing, I complete work easily and feel satisfied. I don’t trip over anything. There’s plenty of tea & milk in the studio fridge.

b) BAD:

Usually in the early stages of concept development. Everything I do is ugly and try-hard. I am frustrated and attempt to work through it, but no matter how much paint I use, the work gets worse. I trip over and break things. There’s no milk for tea. I usually cry a bit and whine to friends about being no good.

Malaysian Gothic, 2007, from Mouth of Flowers series

You’ve experienced living and working on a few artist residencies, both in Australia and overseas. Up to 2011, I was travelling frequently for art projects. At some point (I don’t know exactly why), I said to myself: enough. Maybe the idea of mobility had become a career crutch, with one opportunity leading to another, and if I stopped I was afraid of losing something… Momentum? Visibility? I lost a sense of my own direction and place, and with it, clarity of purpose in what I was doing.

Does success = mobility? What does travel give an artist? And what does it demand in return?

Yes, I totally understand. Art travel can be frustrating, exhausting and distracting. It becomes all about career and something gets lost in the process. After being away from the Aussie art scene during 2007-2010 (extended by a hiatus nursing a dying parent), I certainly experienced a kind of ‘invisibility’.

So now I’m keeping art sojourns short and sweet, if at all. My month in Penang this December will give me space to pause, get some perspective, and reconnect with Malaysian friends. Despite the setbacks though, travel does provide insight. And in return? I’ve been happy to meet the ‘pay back’ requirements of residencies. But it’s also taken 4 years to get back on my feet, so the price can be quite high.

The Revelation, 2008, from Gods in A Box series

Something that’s seldom discussed is the agenda of those who host art residencies. What do you think are some of the motivations of private/institutional organizations when providing artists with residency opportunities? Are artists aware they’re serving these agendas alongside their own?

Good question. Sometimes the motivation is genuinely philanthropic, but more often it’s about getting a tax break or gaining political kudos. With many private residencies, it is a way of generating rental income. Some artists are aware of these agendas and research the background of organisers/residencies before accepting support. Others simply take advantage of an opportunity where they can, which is understandable in an environment where opportunities are so limited. Other times, it’s just an affordable holiday with a studio attached. I think that the simple fact that residencies exist is a miracle. They certainly weren’t around 30 years ago…..

Figure 1A, 2009, from Colonialus Nullus series

As an Australian artist working in Malaysia, did you experience discomfort as an outsider? I know this term ‘outsider’ isn’t a polite one, but talking about it openly helps break that sucker down. We hide behind too many unspoken walls when perhaps a visible one would be preferable – it’s easier to dismantle.

I bring this up because I see in your paintings an attempt to grapple with the surface of the social culture you encounter, e.g. Mouth of Flowers and Gods in a Box, two series you completed at Rimbun Dahan and Malihom, respectively. The figures are constrained by a decorative outline, or shell. At the same time, they inhabit the shell. I also see the Colonialus Nullus series as a take on Westerners encountering an ‘exotic’ landscape and becoming part of it’s history, themselves becoming exotic creatures.

Could you tell us more about experiencing culture from the outside and inside?

Wow you summed that up really well. Basically I’ve been on the move for the last 23 years…17 addresses over London, Sydney, LA, Melbourne, KL and Penang, so being an ‘outsider’ has become the norm. I’m an expert at adapting to new social/cultural environments. Discomfort is a major part of the process – and a major inspiration.

Moving allows for calculated risk taking; it generates all kinds of interactions, conflict and ideas. Depending on the environment, the art will reflect feelings of constraint, frustration, violence, exoticism, humour or total absurdity. And my role as being part of the ‘problem’ is always implied. In creating Colonialus Nullus, I experienced my own redundancy in terms of making any genuine contribution to Malaysian culture; I was just a passenger/visitor, like my colonial forebears – and in historical terms, an endangered species. Everyone else in Malaysia seemed to know this but me.

Another good reason to travel – it wakens you from outrageous ego states.

Are you a feminist?

A big fat ‘YES!’

Liberate Education participants with their work

In 2011, you started something called Liberate Education, where you conduct art workshops for all ages, in different contexts. I was moved and inspired by the testimonials from participants in their 80s. What insight has Liberate Education given you about the creative impulse as an essential part of being alive?

It banished all cynicism or contempt I had for the creative process. It’s so easy for an artist to become jaded, I have certainly felt it. But seeing folk – especially those with dementia, physical disabilities or psyche issues – start painting, drawing or experimenting for the first time and creating an artwork they never thought possible, is incredible. For however long the feeling lasts, they are totally uplifted, confident, surprised, amazed. Group members start relating to each other as human beings. They laugh and look younger. They get cheeky and playful. And they can’t wait to come back and try it again.

Figure 2A, 2009, from Colonialus Nullus series

Something has been bugging me for a long time about the art profession in Malaysia: the fact that galleries and collectors often take months (sometimes years!) to pay artists for works that have been sold and delivered. Has this happened to you? If you had to pick a specific problem you’ve encountered professionally, what would it be? What can be done to improve the situation?

Yes, it happens in Australia too. I know of several galleries that have gone bust and artists have been left unpaid. It’s absolutely unacceptable and totally disrespectful. But much of the process is about solid communication. Often artists are just so grateful to be invited to have or be in a show, they don’t ask questions. But we have to wise-up and not assume it will all work out, especially in an industry where galleries go bust and collectors don’t pay.

We must negotiate our contracts/conditions with care. If we want to be paid straight away, we’ve got to get the gallery/collector to agree to this, otherwise, forget it. As an individual artist however, it can be really hard to create change, so forming a union, peak body or non-profit association is a good option for moving things forward. Direct political representation with strong numbers encourages professionalism…. and respect (ie. payment) follows. The Matahati group is an interesting example of what can be done within the strength of a collective alliance. Bet those guys get paid on time?? 🙂

Mea Culpa, 2012, from Antipodisease series

In your many years as an artist, what has been the relationship (should I say tension?) between social class and art? Is this relationship different in Australia compared to Malaysia? I think there is class tension in your latest series Antipodisease, or am I totally off base?

There is much class tension in Sydney, and it’s become more acute as new ethnic groups enter the equation, and the divide between rich and poor widens.

For the last three years I have spent many ‘day job hours’ driving from incredibly wealthy suburbs in Sydney to poor ones. I inspect homes in all these suburbs, hearing the stories of the people who live in them, and writing about their properties for the local real estate market. I’ve seen a lot of change, experienced plenty of ignorance and witnessed a general disengagement with the natural environment.

Up until recently social class hadn’t been a big item on my artistic agenda, but after these experiences it became achingly apparent that I needed to address it. So yes, Antipodisease does reflect the shifts and cultural differences/tensions I have experienced since being back in Sydney.

Plugged-in, 2012, from Antipodisease series

What’s next for you?

A big thing has happened to me in the last 12 months. For the first time ever, I now live in my own home. I am no longer negotiating the idiosyncrasies of roommates, or worrying about when I’ll be moved on.

It feels weird, great, confronting, and sometimes lonely. I’ve started fixing stuff and browsing through home décor catalogues. Yikes. So, short of becoming a renovation princess, I am beginning to think more deeply about what home, place and identity really mean. What does it mean to belong?

My work in property marketing is helping with this. Remember when you were fascinated with pockets? [In 2008, I began collecting pockets from used pants I found at Penang’s Thieves’ Market – SC.] I have become quite taken with architectural floorplans. I think they’re totally cool. So I’m visually playing with floorplans from all the places I have lived, loved, visited. I don’t know where the journey will lead but I’m currently at (b) BAD early stage concept development that will hopefully lead to (a) GOOD latter stage concept development where everything flows and I do little dances in the studio without tripping over anything.

Hopefully there will be some milk in the fridge for tea.

The Surrender, 2006, from Flight Path series

Thanks, Gabrielle!

Everyone, please check out more of Gabrielle’s work on her website.

Fertilizer Fridays: Chang Yoong Chia

Hello dear readers! Welcome to another Fertilizer Friday. Sorry this is a day late – had trouble with the Tumblr servers yesterday.

Fertilizer Fridays are interviews with artist friends. It’s about honest, casual conversation, sharing ideas + busting myths about being an artist/making art.

I met Yoong Chia when he was working at Reka Art Space where I had my first solo exhibition in 2005. A work of his sits in our library – a painting on the inside of a crab shell. It’s a small piece of his amazingly rich visual world.

Can’t tell you how happy I am to share this conversation. Yoong Chia’s answers are practical, wise and insightful, and I hope you get as much out of them as I did!

Self-Portrait Radiating, 2006, Oil on Seashell, 13cm x 13cm x 2.8cm

Just like everyone else, artists have good days and bad days. Could you describe what your working day is like, a good one and a bad one?

a) GOOD –
b) BAD –

When I was younger, I was at the mercy of my emotions. I was in cyclical state where first I would be euphoric for few a days, then, gradually descended into periods of deep sadness the following days and a few days later, I would become happy again.

I used to fear my happiness because I knew depression will come later, and I was optimistic during my sadness for I knew I would become happy again soon. And throughout all this, I continue to do my artwork. It was a way to negotiate with my emotions, to make friends with them.

It took some time, but eventually, like a muscle, my emotions became stronger and my artwork improved as well.

I don’t think we should call certain working days good or bad, because it is essentially just how we feel at that particular moment. And because by doing so, we limit our commitment to dealing with emotions we don’t like and thus will never be able to resolve.

Traveling Plant, 2006, Oil on Canvas, 64cm x 56cm

The title of your 2009 solo exhibition ‘The 2nd Seven Years’ really struck me because it highlights the idea of there being significant turning points in an artist’s life. It’s been exactly seven years since I first started my ‘professional’ art journey, and without warning there was a deep change how I think, feel and work. For me, it’s been an uncomfortable but essential experience. Can you tell us more about the process of hitting and going through these turning points?

A few years prior to ‘The 2nd Seven Years’ exhibition, I had been in and out of Malaysia on artist residencies in other countries. I was eager to show what I learned ‘out there’ and what I learned about myself to a Malaysian audience. In order to do that, I had me to reassess my work.

The first seven years of my ‘professional’ life (1996 – 2002) was spent mucking around, trying to find myself and trying to convince people to take me seriously. ‘The 2nd Seven Years’ (2003- 2009) exhibition was a summary of what were important themes and strategies in my work.

It was nice to put out that show, because it sort of announced that this is what I have been doing so far and this where my future work will come from.

The Spirit Leaves The Body, 1997, Lino Ink on Rice Paper (Monoprint)

Drawing seems central to your art – whether it’s monoprints, sewing or painting. What advice would you give to someone who’s thinking about starting to draw, but feels like they aren’t able to?

When one thinks about drawing, one automatically thinks about it being on a piece of paper, a 2-dimensional world. This 2D world is what is interesting about drawing (and painting). 2D does not exist in reality but our mind allows us to believe that dots, lines and planes arranged in particular ways on a flat surface could bring us to another reality. That’s the magic of drawing and painting.

However, painting (and also drawing) has been getting a lot bad press from the art world. Those who only paint are considered old-fashioned or ‘commercial’ and those who only draw are amateurs (unless you are a street artist). Artist now are required to be articulate in other ways like making a bold statement and make artworks that engage with technology, be inclusive of different communities, care about the environment, socially active, etc.

Somehow, in all this confusion, the magic of creating a window into another reality is lost. Drawing is most basic visual art form, when confused, go back to basics and continue from there.

Quilt of The Dead, 2002 – Ongoing, Collaborative work about memory using embroidery, 224cm x 224cm

Like many artists, you’ve used very interesting and creative research methods when making your work. Could you briefly tell us about one or two processes you used to approach a subject or a material in order to execute your idea?

They all start as urges and questions. What is that? Why does this interest me? What do I want to say? How do I convey that? How will it evolve as I work on this further? How will this change me?

‘Quilt of the Dead’ started as a curiousity about the obituary photos in newspapers and a personal memory about the death of my grandmother. I found embroidery to be the perfect medium for this work because embroidery takes time and patience (perhaps love too) to make and also it’s symbolism to the cycle of life and death in many cultures. Quilt of the Dead later evolved into embroidery performances and workshops that engage people to discuss about death and what that means to the living.

‘The World is Flat’ started as nostalgia for my stamp collection and childhood days, which I created collages made entirely out of stamps to convey the era of ‘official information’ of colonialism and the coming of a new era of ‘democratic information’ of the internet.

When I start making a series of work, l start when it is still ‘half-baked’ because I like the work to evolve organically, over a long period time and flexible enough for me to make many adjustments along the way. I could never make a work if I can already predict the result. For me the process is important.

Queen E’s Private Moment (When Will the Bubbles Burst?), 2011, Postage Stamps and Adhesive (Collage), 30cm x 21.5cm

I’ve been thinking a lot about how art relates to the world, both as ‘industry’ (i.e. art world, art market, etc) and simply as field that involves self-expression and making things. What does ‘independence’ mean to you, in art and in life?

One doesn’t become independent by being an artist. True, you are independent from a lot of society’s expectations, but you are not independent from your calling, which demands all your life’s dedication to it, but that’s not your question.

To continue as an artist, I separate making artwork, art career and money as three distinct categories that overlap sometimes. Making artwork is always the priority, because that’s what I do, who I am.

Simply put, the art market is for selling art. Just because the art market has become a humongous industry that involves influential artists, curators and institutions doesn’t mean that the objective has changed, it’s just that the business of selling art has become more sophisticated. Therefore, artists who need to survive by selling their work have to be more sophisticated as well, while being aware that that is just one aspect of their artistic self.

Interestingly, we (as in the human civilization) have evolved to a point where we are now heavily dependent on each other while also highly individualistic …or maybe it’s because we are highly dependent on each other that we HAVE to be individualistic. Being an individual means living differently from others, but we now lack resources to be self-sustaining, so we go to shops that cater to our individuality, you need money to be an individual, the more money you spend, the more individuality you get. Buying (expensive) art seems to be one way of announcing your individuality.

The World Is Flat, 2010, Postage Stamps and Adhesive (Collage), 84cm x 134cm

Something has been bugging me for a long time about the art profession in Malaysia: the fact that galleries and collectors often take months (sometimes years!) to pay artists for works that have been sold and delivered. Has this happened to you? What do you think is the cause and how can we improve this situation?

Yes, it has happened to me also. But I think that is a problem with many professions in Malaysia. Before I became I full-time artist, I worked in a number of freelance jobs, like painting murals and what not. Sometimes you get paid promptly, sometimes you get paid late, and sometimes only partially. The problem is there are no union bodies that look after the interest of their workers. There’s no union for mural painters, and there’s no union for artists. How do we improve on this situation? I don’t know, but it will be the same answer as how to reduce crime rate, how to improve public transportation, how to provide better education.

What’s next for you?

I’m currently working on my next series of stamp collages. After my last series, ‘The World is Flat’, I felt there are still more things to say.

Thanks Yoong Chia.

Everyone, please check out Yoong Chia’s website to see more of his works. Hope you’re enjoying Fertilizer Fridays. Be sure to read last week’s interview with Liew Kwai Fei!

Two portraits from Quilt of the Dead. Yoong Chia embroidered these based on photographs of my own grandparents who have passed on. Find out more about this on-going project here.

Fertilizer Fridays: Liew Kwai Fei

20/11/2012 UPDATE – Fei just emailed to tell me his next solo exhibition opens on 7 Nov 2012, at Valentine Willie Fine Art, KL. Artist Talk moderated by Yap Sau Bin on 17 Nov, 4PM. It’s art ‘For the Refined and For the Masses’ – which group do YOU fall into, dear reader?

Hello, dear readers! I’m excited to share a new series on this blog – Fertilizer Fridays!

These interviews with artist friends are about honest, casual conversation, sharing ideas + busting myths about being an artist/making art.

First up is Liew Kwai Fei. We met while working as gallery assistants. I wrote the introduction to his 2008 exhibition ‘The Rhythm of Doing’, and have a set of his minimalist, geometric paintings hanging in my bedroom.

Here he answers my questions in his characteristically poetic, sharp and sardonic way.

Fei standing in front of a recent painting. Photo by Minstrel Kuik.

Just like everyone else, artists have good days and bad days. Could you describe what your working day is like, a good one and a bad one?

a) GOOD – Bad
b) BAD – Good

Life is so difficult, and humans are so fragile. Good or bad doesn’t matter, being able to work in the studio already means a grateful day.

You studied painting at Malaysian Institute of Art. What was the most important thing you learnt there?

Have you met anyone else in the Malaysia contemporary art scene who is from an ink painting educated background?

Like you, I had a formal art education (sculpture at Victorian College of the Arts, Melbourne). Art school gave me artistic direction, but I’ve found that I needed to ‘unlearn’ alot in order to find my real creative voice. What are some of the things art education can’t give you?

Bravo! I think you are the first person to put Malaysian Institute of Art and Victorian College of the Arts on the same level. To me, a major in Ink Painting in 3 years diploma course at MIA is hardly to be recognized as formal art education.

Old folk used to say : “授人以鱼不如授人以渔”

(English translation: It is always better to teach a hungry person to fish than to give him some fish.)

Now we can say: The master teaches the young man how to fish. But he can’t guarantee if there are still any fish left in the river.

4 Ekor 仙人指路, 2012, Acrylic on canvas, 208 x 198 cm

About education levels – I have doubts that Victorian College of the Arts was better education than MIA, it was just much more expensive! I think that raises a reality we seldom talk about honestly in Malaysia: the question about unequal hierarchy of information, related to social class and race.

Does certain information (e.g. overseas education vs. local) have higher value in terms of access to opportunities and power? Does certain information (e.g. local knowledge, vernacular language knowledge) have higher value in terms of access to local communities and politics (also power)?

This occupies my mind alot. I get valuable insights from your artwork about this. When I see the many little parts of your paintings that you arrange differently in space, it’s like breaking down systems of meaning and remaking new ones. Can you give your thoughts?

Let’s be honest, Malaysia is run by a bureaucratic, capitalist and racist government. If both of us can enroll in UiTM to study art like our Malay artist friends, why should we have to spend lots more money to study in private colleges locally or overseas? (Our parents’ tax money pays for UiTM as well) But can we?

After talking about the dark side of what’s happening in our country, it totally destroys the mood to talk about my art work. No wonder not many people in the art scene are pleased to honestly and openly discuss this – it’s really not a modern bourgeois lifestyle art topic.

Orang Murah Barang Mahal 贱人贵物, 2012, Acrylic on canvas

Looking at your work over the years, there’s many different approaches. I love and highly respect artists who change and experiment, not just their ‘style’, but their whole way of looking, thinking and making. My own work is ‘all-kinds of things at once’! Sometimes I worry about seeming inconsistent and unfocused, because I don’t have a ‘strong brand’. Do you have the same worries?

Everyday our mind and body will not be the same as before: we are getting old, dying. There is some peacefulness – as we experience more, worries get less. But then comes the urgency to make something true to yourself.

But who is yourself? What you want to do? Artists live in an environment, art doesn’t come from pure vanity. The world is far beyond the control of the artist, so she needs to respond to this. The more she feels deep and understands better, the higher the chances of making good art.

You’ve been on some artist residencies, locally and abroad. Can you explain what an ‘art residency’ is to someone who hasn’t heard the term before?

A high class culture foreign worker business/research/holiday trip. It’s a global phenomenon.

A work from solo exhibition Color, Shape, Quantity, Scale, 2010, Acrylic on paper, Five pieces: 8.5 x 129 cm

On paper, a residency sounds like the ultimate opportunity. But I know from experience there can be down-sides. Artists often don’t feel comfortable talking about this because it makes us sound ungrateful. What are some aspects of residencies that could change in order to be more fruitful for an artist like yourself?

1) If you know the hidden agenda beforehand, then please think twice. If not, then happy-go-lucky or lucky to be unlucky.

2) It’s all about transparency and respect, which is the responsibility of both parties, the artist and the organizer

3) The most terrible organizer is the one with a ‘mercy’ attitude towards artists.

4) The artist should always remember there are no free lunches. You need to pay for everything you get. Maybe not in currency, but there are hidden costs. ‘Free’ is the most expensive price to pay.

A work from solo exhibition Color, Shape, Quantity, Scale, 2010, Acrylic on paper, 9 pieces: dimensions variable

Something has been bugging me for a long time about the art profession in Malaysia: the fact that galleries and collectors often take months (sometimes years!) to pay artists for works that have been sold and delivered. Has this happened to you? What do you think is the cause and how can we improve this situation?

A basic art business deal involves two or three parties. There are many factors why the buyer or middleman delays payment for what is bought. Some of this can be fixed by business law, but the major part is about trust – being responsible and caring about others in the deal.

I’ve worked in galleries for years, and I have yet to meet any gallerist doing business with good ethics or ‘full-time’ art collectors who are humble and open minded. How do improve? Sometimes a cheeky smiling face with sexy (or macho) body will do better :p

For further reading about the art economy, check out Hans Abbing’s book.

A work from solo exhibition Color, Shape, Quantity, Scale, 2010, Acrylic on paper, 12 pieces: 49 x 39 cm each

What’s next for you?

with Metta:
Listen to the whisper of my destiny.
Reading more kampung stories.
Seeing the shadow in the darkness.
Dancing with my dear lady.

and physically:
I need to learn how to be cheeky and build up my skinny body or else next year will still be hard. Haha!

Thanks, Fei.

Everyone, if you liked this fertilizer and want more, see you next Friday!

Fei recreated his whole studio as part of the exhibition Color, Shape, Quantity, Scale in 2010.