I began my project with impressions – what were my first impressions of the buildings my grandfather had designed?
Over the summer of the year before, I had gone on a pilgrimage to capture images of my grandfathers’ architectural portfolio, driving across the country with my mother, as well as my disposable camera and digital camera in tow. This photographic journey had two motivations:
To pay homage to my late grandfather
An urgency to capture the fading landscape of the pioneer architect generation (in fact, one of the buildings we had shortlisted to be photographed had been demolished)
As I looked at these photographs one year on, I felt a certain sense of nostalgia for a past that I never had. To feel the optimistic inspiration my grandfather had in creating the nation’s landscape, have his keen eye for images as an intrepid soul who always had his film camera in tow and the compassion for his family as he brought my uncle and mother to his building projects.
I began creating my first impressions in paint of these buildings – albeit through the screen of my laptop –, creating these memories fifty years later. I found myself captivated by the glistening blue windows of the MND building, the wondrous animal fountains of the Mountbatten Swimming Complex (now called Katong Swimming Complex), the serial repetition of pyrimidal roofs at Mandai Crematorium. I wondered about the stories my grandfather had told my mother and uncle of the places he built. How close are my impressions of the buildings to his?
Before embarking on my project, I had spoken to several professors and art practitioners from Stanford, seeking their advice on how to approach this impossible task of reimagining Singapore’s landscape in a time that had long passed before I was born. As I spoke with my Art History advisor, Professor Nemerov, he perhaps best summed up my task of capturing a historical landscape invisible to the eyes:
How does one poise oneself between historical memory and imaginative possibility, to be both empirically true and artistically inventive, and to find emotion and avoid dispassion?
I continued painting the sites with the words of my mentors in mind: as Professor Taylor-Tobin mentioned to imagine the invisible structures hidden behind the walls; as Professor Bartion encouraged to paint with conviction and confidence; as Professor Chagoya advised not to feel the burden to render realistically, but render what captures the eye.
Indeed I felt more confident of charting this journey, especially after reviewing my paintings with Professor Barton and hearing his impressions of the buildings through my watercolour works. With these first impressions in hand, I felt ready to embark on the next phase of my project: the onsite sketches.