SHORT STORIES - ROSSIROSSIrossirossi.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/02/Nicole_Wong_-_Short_Stories.pdf · 6 7 GETTING IT RIGHT John Batten Nicole Wong’s first experience of art as

S H O R T S T O R I E SN I C O L E W O N G

CONTENTS

5

Foreword

6

Getting It Right – John Batten

11

Chapter One – Poems

29

Chapter Two – Problems

63

Chapter Three – Puns

83

Chapter Four – Projects

100

Curriculum Vitae

102

About Rossi & Rossi

5

FOR EWOR D

Short Stories is a compendium of recent works by the Hong Kong–based artist

Nicole Wong. Neither comprehensive nor exhaustive, it is, rather, an introduction to

Wong’s output from her formative professional years of studio practice to the present.

John Batten’s introduction, ‘Getting It Right’, provides essential context for the

content that follows. Each subsequent ‘story’ – arranged by the artist into four chapters –

is, in a way, a re-augmenting of a scene, and should cue the reader, or observer,

to re-examine its subject.

Day in, day out is the title of Wong’s first commercial solo exhibition, held at

Rossi & Rossi London from 15 September to 27 October 2016, and is the occasion for the

production of this inaugural volume of her work.

6 7

GETTING IT R IGHT John Batten

Nicole Wong’s f irst experience of art as an activity more serious than childish fun was as a six-year-old at

Culture Corner Art Academy, a private art school in Tai Po, near Wong’s home in Hong Kong’s New Territories.

Opened by Josephine Chow and Gaylord Chan in 1989, Culture Corner tutored children and keen amateur

artists, and played a modest role in Hong Kong’s evolving art development. Chan, now in his nineties, is one of

Hong Kong’s f irst abstract painters, and came to prominence in the 1970s with a group of similarly like-minded

and enthusiastic artists, including Luis Chan and Chu Hing Wah.

Chan’s wife, Josephine, predominantly ran the school, and as Wong’s f irst art teacher gave her early

encouragement in the basics of painting and sculpture. Signif icantly, one of the weekend art assistants at the

school was a young Lee Kit, now arguably Hong Kong’s most internationally visible contemporary artist.

When Culture Corner closed, Wong and some fellow students continued to prepare for their secondary

school art examinations by meeting weekly in Kit’s studio in Fotan, an area of high-rise industrial factories

and warehouses, and a popular place for artists to have studios.

Kit is renowned for his laid-back and passionate enthusiasm as well as his happy willingness to discuss a range of

topics and issues, sometimes including art. Over the years, Kit has kept in contact with Wong, who has observed

his story as an artist, his success as exhibitor and his frequent travels around the world. Wong is a singular,

determined person, and having a mentor is not really her style; but Kit-as-artist is an example of ambition-in-art

that she observed – certainly did not ignore – and subtly and similarly embraces.

Wong attended primary and secondary Catholic schools in Hong Kong, and was then given the choice of further

study in the United Kingdom. She gladly moved, and chose to study A-Level art, design and photography in

Canterbury, then completed a f ine arts degree at Nottingham Trent University, surrounded by the institution’s

rich tradition of exploring conceptual art, a genre that Wong has embraced. During her studies, she was

particularly encouraged, indeed pushed, to develop ideas and to write – and then listen – to critical feedback

from fellow students and teachers about her completed work.

The requirement for art students to actively write about their artwork, and then listen, acknowledge and

argue others’ opinions, is possibly the major difference between art education in the UK and Hong Kong.

The village – albeit a busy, high-density, potential powder keg as part of China – that is Hong Kong, with its

small-town familiarity and art alliances, has traditionally not encouraged, nor provided formal outlets for frank

discussion on visual art and art criticism. Since returning to Hong Kong in 2013, Wong has continued in this

spirit of engagement by sharing a studio in Fotan with four other artists and joining artist-organised exhibitions

in the city. A helpful introduction into Hong Kong’s art community was her 2013 residency at Soundpocket,

an organisation devoted to the collection of sound in all its forms.

Wong believes that the time she lived in Britain allowed her great f luidity; there, she was surrounded by a

melting pot of cultures and a liberal atmosphere towards race, ideas, differences and, importantly, sexuality.

It was also a time primarily focused on her studies, as the student atmosphere of Nottingham had fewer

distractions than busy Hong Kong – and besides, the UK’s cold weather encouraged work!

Over the last f ive years, Hong Kong has seen the evolution of a more vibrant art scene as well as an increase

in the number of art graduates. Inevitably, this has also encouraged interstitial space for intellectual, cultural

and political debate – melding with the city’s long-held traditions of artistic freedom. As China well knows,

the revolutionary origins of the overthrow of the Qing dynasty, led by Sun Yat-sen and his supporters, began

in Hong Kong’s steep, stepped streets and back alleys in the 1890s. Recently, after decades of growth, constant

urban rebuilding and economic consolidation, Hongkongers have revised their expectations of the city. This was

strongly expressed in the 2014 Umbrella Movement with vigorous calls for universal suffrage and political reform

to replace established monopolies by the city’s business, governmental and political elite.¹

Hong Kong’s young people are becoming increasingly concerned with the city’s social and political environment,

as China has started to play a stronger, but uncertain role in the city’s future. Wong says of these changes, ‘I used

to think Hong Kong was a place that kills people’s dreams; but now, I think it makes you stronger, because you

can feel the pressure’. She produces her best ideas, her best work, when she is under pressure. ‘I am most creative

when I am “starving”’, she notes. Hong Kong’s visual artists increasingly tackle a range of issues and emotions.

Wong says that her own work is ‘always related to her love life’, in the sense that her art is governed by the

emotions associated by her immediate personal and social environment. She tightly controls the ‘messages’ her

work may contain, and anything personal often has a universality that immediately engages a viewer and mutes

obvious personal references.

In Wong’s Day in, day out exhibition at Rossi & Rossi’s London space, Until I Get It Right (2014–16) is a series

of chronological dates hand-stamped on paper, beginning with Wong’s date of birth. It depicts administrative

eff iciency, monotonous tedium and the boredom of existence as time: ‘every day is just another day’. It also

relates to a recent period of depression, a time of personal diff iculty, a spiral of ‘emotional regret’. Yet it was

a signif icant time ‘to work through the problem, like a bucket that can never f ill up’. However, there was the

temptation, as any depression can dictate, that she ‘didn’t want it to be f illed up’. Hong Kong’s atmosphere

affects Wong’s mood and work, and – confronted by such a measured, diurnal state – she admits that she ‘is not

interested in excitement in life’.

8 9

In early 2016, Wong was asked pointedly by an acquaintance, ‘How are you, actually?’ An annoying, but expected

question – one we all ask ourselves, as the artist did. She is resolved now: steady and focused; alert and

overcoming a recent period of anxiety to work; she no longer is ‘living in a void’. In a corner of the exhibition is

a rack of postcards, the installation Wish You Were Here (2016). These exact words, almost obligatory on

a postcard, are often written and sent. The medium itself is a one-way communication; there is no return address,

no expectation of a reply. Do the words convey that the writer is ‘f ine’ and express the actual yearning of

‘wish you were here’? Or do they comprise a ritualised, meaningless phrase, written on holiday? Do they merely

emphasise time and the distance of someone not physically present, who can never be there, even if they

were wanted? This is Wong’s ‘psychological play’ with words – and about an absent lover who, when written to,

‘will never reply’.

Likewise, the untouchable and, therefore, incomprehensible Hope It Reaches You Well (2016) is the ultimate piece

of nonsensical, absurdist, conceptual art. In this work, Wong lays out a set of twelve sheets of paper pressed with

Braille under a protective acrylic box. Its presentation denies visual and tactile comprehension – it is another,

if recalcitrant, example of one-way communication. Sitting as it does, like a piece of abstract art, Hope It Reaches

You Well only offers an aesthetic sensation. However, it is tantalising, too: the Braille has meaning, if only

I – and, if only I understood Braille – could touch it. Under the circumstances, the purity of the idea prevails;

and the only information we are told is that these sheets of paper are written letters that appeared in different

movies, but never sent.

Wong has given me the names of the movies and the text of these letters; however – and you will need to trust

me here – the letters and their contents add nothing to any further ‘comprehension’ of the work. It is superf luous

information, but more correctly, a further layer of nonsense. Hope It Reaches You Well is exactly as it appears: sheets

of Braille on a table under an acrylic box. The audience, blind or sighted, has equal diff iculty ‘understanding’

this work, except as an object.

On the other hand, The Stars: A New Way to See Them (2015) plays with our visual comprehension by simply

highlighting the words ‘stars’ in a sea of blackened sky-like book text. It recalls John Lennon’s supposed f irst

experience with Yoko Ono, the conceptual artist, later his wife. In an exhibition in the mid-1960s, Lennon looked

through a telescope that Ono had set up; in the distance, he saw the word ‘YES’.

Wong says that she ‘ignores the future’, and this is expressed in Machine (2015), a wall-mounted clock whose

numerals have been exactly replaced with letters, reading: ‘GO BACK IN TIME’. In an allusion of a time

machine and the impossibility of time moving backwards, Machine instead jolts us to imagine the past,

past relationships and possibilities of now. As the artist succinctly says, ‘The past and the present take up

so much time, there is no time for the future’.

Hong Kong’s f ilms are usually associated with syrupy television serials and fast-paced action movies.

However, f ilm directors such as Patrick Tam, Fruit Chan and Wong Kar-wai inhabit another realm.

Wong Kar-wai’s In the Mood for Love (2000; with cinematography by Christopher Doyle – another artist

represented by Rossi & Rossi) was recently named as the second-best f ilm of the twenty-f irst century by a poll

of worldwide f ilm critics compiled by the BBC. This dreamy f ilm of love, missed opportunities and liaisons in

1960s Hong Kong echoes, apart from the period and scenery, today’s Hong Kong. The f ilm evokes the city’s

great underbelly of history – a place where marvellous things happened; a place of strong emotional attachments,

love and despair. Hong Kong is still like this.

The movie’s intrigue plays out daily in the city’s readily available short-time hotels in Tsuen Wan, providing a

glimpse from an upstairs f lat as the edge of a car headlight in a spotted street catches the shadow of a f igure.

It could be in Hong Kong’s Mong Kok or Fo Tan or Sheung Wan – or in our imagination. Machine goes forwards,

as a clock should do, ticking off the present; but the clock-face text anticipates that everything is possible, again.

Wong stands f irmly in the present, and in one of her hands are all the possibilities of conceptual imagination,

in the other is the weight of the emotional past. Artistically, this can be a challenge; at the very least, not to

descend into obvious and maudlin sentimentality. Her art is subtle and explores ways to get it right. As in

an earlier work, Wong set up an ultraviolet aquarium tube light with text, placed it on the f loor surrounded

by similar tubes and text, and announced the possibility that, ‘If I were a cat, I would spend all my nine lives

with you’.

John Batten is an art critic for the South China Morning Post; a curator; a former art gallery owner; and an

activist for heritage conservation and better urban planning.

¹For further explanation, see John Batten, ‘Hong Kong After the Umbrella Protests’ in Yishu – Journal of Contemporary Chinese Art,

vol. 15, no. 4 ( July/August 2016), 53–64.

POEMS

12 / Poems 13 / Poems

Many stars that we see today actually extinguished long ago; what we observe is their

f inal glimmer, hurled from thousands of light years away at 300 kilometres per second,

their light a result of a delayed reception.

The Stars: A New Way to See Them consists of eighty-four pages from an eponymous

astronomy book that have been overprinted with black ink, except for the word ‘star’.

Like the delayed reception of the light from distant galaxies, The Stars: A New Way to

See Them is about late realisations.

Re-fabricating the imagery of a starry sky using book pages, Wong creates a visual simile

highlighting perception versus reality.

The Stars : A New Way to See Them

2015

Inkjet print on book pages

178.2 x 252 cm (70 ¼ x 99 ¼ in)

Exhibited in Day in, day out at Rossi & Rossi London

(15 September–27 October 2016)

(detail)



A Line Drawing features the phrase, ‘drawing a line’; continuously repeated and

uninterrupted, the group of words can be read as both ‘drawing a line’ and ‘a line

drawing’.

This work explores the relationship between the action and the object, the verb and the

noun, the process and the product. Using clever wordplay, the act of creating this piece

tautologically – involving drawing a line with the phrase ‘drawing a line’ – resulted in

the outcome of a line drawing incorporating the phrase, ‘a line drawing’. Viewed from a

distance, the words are indistinguishable from a fuzzy line, yet closer inspection reveals

their subtle meaning.

A Line Drawing

2014

Ink on paper

64 x 88 cm (25 x 34 ½ in)

Private Collection, London

(detail)


Time Piece

2015

Ink on paper

50 x 35 cm (19 ¾ x 13 ¾ in)

Elaine Ng and Fabio Rossi Collection, Hong Kong

In creating Time Piece, Wong used a f ine-tip pen to draw a circle in sync with the

speed of the hour hand on a wall clock over the course of twelve hours. Given the pen’s

contact with the paper over a duration of time, the ink slowly spread across its surface,

creating a thick, black line. The circumference of the drawing is identical to that of the

actual wall clock.

Time Piece is both a literal representation of time and a physical portrayal of its passing.


Collection of Twins

2015

Encaustic paint on linen

60 x 50 cm (23 ½ x 19 ¾ in)

Private Collection

Inspired by the bits of plaster falling from a wall that was beginning to deteriorate in

the artist’s studio, Collection of Twins consists of cast replicas of the detached wall bits,

duplicated in pairs. Together, these fragments, fallen from a once-complete wall, become

a new individual object.

To complete the work, Wong positioned and f ixed the fabricated duplicates onto mounted

linen, like an archipelago of isolated islands.


Lost Horizon is a landscape painting on canvas; however, the horizontal canvas threads,

or weft, have been removed, along with most of the pigment, and only the vertical threads,

or warp, remain. Small portions of the original painting are preserved on the turned-over

edges of the canvas. The work is named after British author James Hilton’s 1933 novel,

Lost Horizon, which describes the f ictional location of earthly paradise, Shangri-La.

Lost Horizon is about lost information, and how the void suggests imagination of

the unknown; or, in other words, ‘like the feeling when you can’t remember the name

of the song that has been stuck in your head for days’, says Wong.

Lost Horizon

2013

Deconstructed found painting

30.5 x 40.5 x 3 cm (12 x 16 x 1 ¼ in)


Falls

2013


40.5 x 30.5 x 3 cm (16 x 12 x 1 ¼ in)

Collection of Living Limited

Falls is an ‘unwoven’ landscape painting: the horizontal threads of the canvas have been

moved to their original positions on the stretcher, whilst the vertical threads have been

left to hang from the bottom of the work. The hanging threads thus transform the river

depicted in the centre into the manifestation of a waterfall. Here, Wong reconf igures

the raw material on which she works and, in turn, intervenes in our reading of the

original image.

Falls questions our experience with institutional art and resets our expectations of how

art should look.


Seven Shades from a Seascape

2013

Marker on paper, mounted on wood

Each 25 x 17 x 2.5 cm (10 x 6 ¾ x 1 in)

Exhibited in Triad Conversation: Cultural Diversity Art Exhibition

at Namsong Art Museum, Gapyeong-gun

(22 September–2 November 2013)

Seven Shades from a Seascape consists of seven marker drawings mounted

on wooden boards. The selected colours were based on the names of the markers

(all varying shades of pale blue, green and grey) that recall the sea: Ice Ocean,

Crystal Opal, Ocean Mist, Snow Green, Cold Shadow, Moon White and Grey Sky.

The work acts as a visual metaphor, in which the source of the imagery comes not from

a physical environment, but rather from a collection of associations. Incorporating the

use of wordplay, Seven Shades from a Seascape conveys a sense of amusement regarding the

psychological connections we often make without physical references.

PROBLEMS

30 / Problems 31 / Problems

A Bit of You

2016

Framed prints, engraved mirror and found earrings in a travel case

Dimensions variable



A Bit of You is a sculptural assemblage in which the artist stages found objects, found

graphics and found text. The objects have been removed from their original contexts and

placed in familiar but uncanny compositions. Through framing, fragmented poetry and

a display with feminine aesthetics, the disparate elements are brought into previously

constructed yet open-minded dialogues, suggesting poetic association.

As a space of broken narratives, there is an estrangement of nostalgia by constructing lost

objects that belonged to a pair (the jewellery box holds six unmatched earrings). ‘In this

work, you can f ind both saudade and mystical theophany, like touching on a conversation

that you may not understand’, notes Wong.

At times I get fed up with her.

I suggest a separation. From now to eternity.

Then she smiles at me with pity,

since she knows it would be the end of me, too.

(detail)


I can’t

2015

Marble

50 x 40 x 5 cm (19 ½ x 15 ¾ x 2 in)



The idea of a search engine as a public yet intimate platform is a social phenomenon,

and the act of searching for a technical solution to an emotional issue may seem impractical.

However, in a group of works engraved in marble, Wong shows how a network of strangers,

connected through resonance and vulnerability, can be highly poetic.

By recording the top ten search results for specif ic phrases, the artist attempts to record

and glorify the emotional connections she has virtually experienced with strangers

through the anonymous act of querying the phrases online. Concerned with the

tension that exists between illusionism and literalism (and how close together the two

can sometimes be), she f inds these search phrases to be like short, ready-made poems,

bridging the virtual space between strangers that is generated by emotional distance

in reality.


Maybe you

2016

Marble

50 x 40 x 5 cm (19 ½ x 15 ¾ x 2 in)



Feelings are

2016

Marble

50 x 40 x 5 cm (19 ½ x 15 ¾ x 2 in)




Until I Get It Right consists of dates stamped on paper using a standard date stamp.

A physical manifestation of monotonous feelings over a period of time, the work was

inspired by Wong’s experience with psychiatric drugs that exacerbated the uniformity

and indistinguishability of days and events.

As an institutional tool, the date stamp recalls the staleness of libraries and post off ices.

This association conf irms and confers (and, more abstractly, ‘approves’) the repetitive

nature of date stamping. Explicitly a work of process art, Until I Get It Right presents a

problem rooted in a psychological state of being – and its physical resolution.

Until I Get It Right

2014–16

Ink on paper

95 x 251.5 cm (37 ½ x 99 in)



(detail)


Machine

2015

Manipulated wall clock

38 cm (15 in) (diameter)



Wong has had a long-standing interest in the concept of time, and the effect it has on

human experiences. Machine consists of a clock that the artist found and manipulated.

It has letters instead of numbers, reading clockwise, ‘GO BACK IN TIME’. Following the

artist’s ongoing exploration of the double meaning of words, this work investigates how

the function of an object and its associated text can have a contentious relationship.

Machine functions not only as a wall clock, but also as a parody of a ‘time machine’,

reflecting a dimension of absurdity. It is an object created to remind us that (going back in)

time is only a concept. If the concept of ‘time’ did not exist, then a ‘time machine’ would

simply be a clock.


(detail)


Parted Lovers

2015


60.5 x 182.5 cm (23 ¾ x 71 ¾ in)

DSL Collection

To create Parted Lovers, the warp and weft of a found canvas have been unwoven and then

reconstructed into their original form, in two parts. This process of deconstruction and

reconstruction – and the relationship between the two – is akin to romantic relationships;

‘a metaphor for separation’, says Wong.

Although the stretchers hang side by side and abut, the feeling of separation is accentuated,

as it is revealed to the viewer that the elements were originally intertwined. This presentation

emphasises a logical truth: separation can only exist alongside connection; without one,

the other would not survive.


The Unquiet Mind

2016

Inkjet on digital prints

Dimensions variable

Exhibited in Songs without Words at 100ft Park, Hong Kong

(16 April–15 May 2016)

The Unquiet Mind consists of photographs of people and animals. The human

subjects – three artists and one pope – have been overprinted with ink, except for

their hands, emphasising the gestural element of non-verbal communication.

In this work, Wong explores the relationship between people and animals, and suggests

an intimacy and attainment of comfort beyond that of human relationships,

despite having no common language.


Nothing Was the Same includes an image of an inverted landscape juxtaposed with a

collage of photos of people in dialogue. The faces of the f igures have been omitted,

representing the limitation of information in communication. The inverted landscape,

a representation of physical distance, serves as a metaphor for emotional distance and the

inability to overcome obstacles. Wong likens this space to relationships between people,

and how they can be at once intimate and distant.

Nothing Was the Same

2016


Dimensions variable


(16 April–15 May 2016)


How Are You, Actually?2016


Dimensions variable


(16 April–15 May 2016)

How Are You, Actually? explores the notion of communication without words, and what

‘the void’ brings to a conversation. This set of prints portrays artists with their pets

(one with a bird, the other with a zebra), as well as an inverted landscape (centre), the last

of which is symbolic of the abstract mindscape as well as obstacles in communication.


This set of digital prints with inkjet overprinting depicts various artists (bodies omitted)

with their pets as well as a pocket-sized photograph of Paul Newman and Joanne

Woodward, pinned to the surface by a pair of pearl earrings. Where or When examines

memory loss through music, f ilm and poetry.

The work’s title was inspired by a scene from a movie in which a girl, fearful she may

one day suffer from amnesia, asks her boyfriend to play a song to serve as a reminder of

their relationship.

Where or When, which speaks to the feeling of familiarity without remembering, is a

continuation of Wong’s exploration of communication without words and of meaning

without content.

If recollecting were forgetting,

Then I remember not;

And if forgetting, recollecting,

How near I had forgot!

And if to miss were merry,

And if to mourn were gay,

How very blithe the f ingers

That gathered these to-day!

— Emily Dickinson

Where or When

2016

Inkjet on digital prints, earrings

Dimensions variable


(16 April–15 May 2016)


Hope It Reaches You Well

2016

Braille on paper, acrylic case

Dimensions variable

Exhibited in

Songs without Words at 100ft Park, Hong Kong

(16 April–15 May 2016)

Day in, day out at Rossi & Rossi London


At Wit’s End at Asia Cultural Centre, Gwangju

(3 September–30 October 2016) (another example exhibited)

Hope It Reaches You Well is a set of ten letters that the artist extracted from movies,

translated into Braille and encased in acrylic. The collection of letters was inspired

by movies selected by the artist, in which the protagonist writes letters that are never

delivered or received – a sort of failed communication. By translating the contents of the

letters into Braille and encasing them in acrylic, Wong has reproduced literary work that

the sighted cannot read and the blind cannot decode. This compounding of challenges –

or multiple levels of failure – results in a text that will never be interpreted.

(detail)


Wish You Were Here

2016

Postcards and postcard stand

Dimensions variable

Exhibited in


(16 April–15 May 2016)

Day in, day out at Rossi & Rossi London


In this installation, the viewer f inds an everyday postcard display stand containing the

same card in every pocket; it reads: WISH YOU WERE HERE. The text references the

use of the phrase in movies, where subtitles are italicised when transcribing lyrics or

unspoken thoughts. Whilst the phrase ‘wish you were here’ seems like a typical thing to

write on a postcard, the italic font serves as a metaphor for indirect communication.

The postcard was invented to bridge the physical distance between people. Yet, whilst the

use of ordinary postcards creates a sense of relatable resonance, the postcard itself

represents one-way communication. Wish You Were Here speaks to the obstacles in

communication as well as the strong desire to reach an unreachable place, regardless of

the possibility that a postcard may never actually reach its intended recipient.

(detail)


Everyone’s here looking at me

2016

Aquarium light tube

Dimensions variable

Exhibited in


(16 April–15 May 2016)



I will be your umbrella

2016

Aquarium light tube

Dimensions variable

Exhibited in


(16 April–15 May 2016)




When the night has come

2016

Aquarium light tube

Dimensions variable

Exhibited in


(16 April–15 May 2016)




If I were a cat

2016

Aquarium light tube

Dimensions variable


(16 April–15 May 2016)

A group of four works constructed of aquarium lights and black adhesive vinyl comprise

a site-specif ic installation originally installed at 100ft Park in Hong Kong. Their content

derives from quotes Wong extracted from overheard conversations between strangers,

as well as those recorded from printed text. Each piece is written from the f irst-person

perspective, and consists of a protagonist speaking directly to another person

(‘me’ and ‘you’). The viewer will also note that each work contains contradictions –

the meaning of the imposed text evolves with its installed context.

Unsuspectingly, Wong’s use of decontextualised words taken from conversations

between strangers has the effect of pulling viewers into a world of faint familiarity.

PUNS

64 / Puns 65 / Puns

To create Waiting Game, Wong rolled a twenty-sided die to determine the diameter of

each dot placed on a piece of paper. The result of the roll indicated the size of the dot,

which ranged from one millimetre to two centimetres. It is a game in which the artist set

rules for herself to play, as well as one designed for the viewers who were to encounter this

datalike visual.

Over the course of several months, she explored the repetitive processes, in order to

gain an understanding of how repetitive actions can affect systems, and vice versa.

Wong argues that the relationship between the two creates a ‘weird, contained freedom’.

Initially inspired by the die itself, Waiting Game is also an exploration of cross-

dimensional transformation, and of how a three-dimensional object can be projected

onto a two-dimensional plane. By recording the rolling of a die using a f ixed set of

visual elements, Wong successfully f lattens the context of a three-dimensional act,

whilst at the same time demonstrating its functionality.

Waiting Game

2015

Ink on paper, twenty-sided die

108.5 x 77 cm (42 ¾ x 30 ¼ in)

66 / Puns 67 / Puns

Sweet Nothings

2014–16

Sealed plastic wrappers and acrylic container

Dimensions variable

Exhibited in Artspiration of Bread at Oil Street Art Space,

Hong Kong (April 2014)

Sweet Nothings is comprised of empty plastic candy wrappers set within an acrylic candy

container. The work, through visual wordplay, serves as a metaphor for disappointment,

and represents volatility and transience of mood. It also expresses the emotional process

and relationship between expectations and disappointment.

(detail)

68 / Puns 69 / Puns

Acrylic on Canvas

2013

Acrylic on canvas

72 x 72 x 5 cm (28 ¼ x 28 ¼ x 2 in)

Exhibited in T hese Shores at Rossi & Rossi Hong Kong

(7 December 2013–4 January 2014)

Private Collection, Berlin

Acrylic on Canvas was constructed from cast-acrylic paint on an uncoated canvas.

The corners were cast using the cardboard corner protectors that originally came on

the new canvas. Here, Wong misdirects her audience by replacing the act of painting

with casting, a sculpting technique. A correlating relationship emerges between the cast

acrylic and the canvas protectors – in line with the artist’s intent to subvert the function

of these objects.

As with her use of a traditional nomenclature for artwork media as a title, Wong challenges

mainstream def initions of art in the display of this work (situated on the f loor).

A spotlight illuminates the empty wall space above, suggesting that the installation

process is incomplete whilst commenting on the preconceived installation process of

a painting. The resulting work, in which no painting techniques were incorporated, is a

sculptural installation.

Acrylic on Canvas belongs to Status Quo (2013), a body of work in which Wong reorients

familiar imagery and objects into new narratives. As the title suggests, the ‘status quo’

of these vernacular items changes through the reconfiguration of their situational context.

(detail)

70 / Puns 71 / Puns

Soft White

2013

Painted wood

66 x 106 cm (26 x 41 ¾ in)



Elaine Ng and Fabio Rossi Collection,

Hong Kong

Soft White is fabricated to mimic generic white ceramic tiles. Affordable and easy to clean,

these unmistakable squares are most commonly associated with bathrooms and kitchens.

In Soft White, Wong has substituted the original baked ceramic material with paint on wood –

defeating the practical purpose of the tiles, but preserving their appearance.

In contrast to the low-cost, mass-produced ceramic tiles, each delicate wooden square in

Soft White consists of subtle ripples created by the artist, which endows them with a sense

of preciousness. The title of the work derives from the proper name of the paint tone that

covers them.

(detail)

72 / Puns 73 / Puns

Handle With Care

2013

Wine glass and adhesive label

Dimensions variable



Handle With Care consists of a wine glass on a pedestal that has been aff ixed with an

adhesive label – the latter notifying the viewer of the object’s fragility. The glass clearly

has been used, as many f ingerprints indicate, and the label resembles those placed on

delicate parcels. Wong’s choice of images here has a predictive element: whilst the

wine glass on the pedestal remains intact, it may shatter if the warning on the label is

not heeded.

This situational installation can be considered as a social experiment. Seemingly out of

place, these two items juxtaposed in an art gallery ask the viewer to reconcile conf licting

information. Knowing the objects for what they are (a dirty wine glass and an adhesive

shipping label), but placed where they are (on a pedestal in an art exhibition), how can

one be certain of how to perceive them? The label’s explicit reminder to ‘handle with

care’ references the behaviour and general cautiousness expected of gallery visitors.

Whilst it may appear as though a casual reception attendee carelessly left the wine glass

on the spot, the object is empowered by the pedestal on which it sits.

74 / Puns 75 / Puns

In Unfound Object, Wong challenges viewers to transcend their expectations and

usual f ields of vision, and instead to search for art that exists ‘beyond the pedestal’.

To this end, the artwork, made of porcelain, is placed under a corner of the pedestal,

whilst leaving in its place (atop the pedestal) a note that reads: ‘Object not found! ’.

The porcelain object, cast into a form of folded paper, resembles a wedge that appears to

balance the pedestal. The placement of the object challenges our standard perception of

art in the gallery context.

Unfound Object

2013

Porcelain and text

Dimensions variable



(detail)

76 / Puns 77 / Puns

Dead Bird

2013

Paper, text and specimen pins

28.5 x 28.5 x 7.5 cm (11 ¼ x 11 ¼ x 7 in)



Private Collection, Berlin

Dead Bird maps the dissection of a bird, arranged scientif ically, like a specimen.

Consistent with Wong’s minimalistic aesthetic, a simple, unfolded origami crane,

carefully labelled at specif ic points, takes the place of an actual bird.

Expanding on the practice of imitation and substitution, Wong here explores how the

roles of process and aesthetics inf luence perception. In the preservation and presentation

of the crane, the artist follows a protocol similar to that used in the dissection of a

natural specimen.

Dead Bird draws reference from the Japanese concept mono no aware – the awareness

of impermanence, or transience of things, and both a transient gentle sadness

(or wistfulness) at their passing as well as a longer, deeper, gentle sadness about this

state being the reality of life.

(detail)

78 / Puns 79 / Puns

Acrylic on Canvas (Yellow Checks)

2013

Acrylic on linen

30.5 x 40.5 cm (12 x 16 in)





Acrylic on Canvas

2013

Acrylic on linen

66 x 86 x 6 cm (26 x 34 x 2 ¼ in)

Exhibited in The Hong Kong Art Prize exhibition, Wheelock Gallery, Hong Kong

(17 May–2 June 2013)

Private Collection, Hong Kong

Initially developed as part of her residency program at the Namsong Art Museum

in 2013, Wong’s series of brightly coloured dishcloths are a continuation of her

cast-acrylic sculptures exhibited in These Shores at Rossi & Rossi Hong Kong

(7 December 2013–4 January 2014), here f inding form in the common kitchen accessory.

These works were created merely with cast-acrylic paint. The series addresses both the

medium of painting and the audience’s expectations of what a painting is.

The title, Acrylic on Canvas, a phrase commonly used to describe a work’s medium,

also refers to the literal meaning of words and how the sculptural nature of these works

transcends the description itself. The visual content of these works can be interpreted

either in jest or disappointment.

80 / Puns 81 / Puns

Acrylic on Canvas (Pink Checks)

2013

Acrylic on linen

40 x 30 cm (15 ¾ x 12 in)





Acrylic On and Off Canvas (Grey Stripes on Pink)

2013

Acrylic on linen

33 x 53 cm (13 x 21 in)





PROJECTS

84 / Projects 85 / Projects

The installation When the Nights Are Getting Longer was staged in the eponymous

exhibition to imitate a generic apartment living room. The artistically rendered space

includes a chair in front of a television, framed decor on the wall and a window.

Featuring abstractions in a space where material and form melded to create a visual

poetry of nuance, the exhibition was a metaphor for Wong’s insomnia.

The installation consists of sculpture, video, a static projection, a suite of drawings and

an unf inished marker drawing of a night sky, which required the audience to complete

using markers placed on a marble windowsill. The resulting space is one of f iction;

or rather, it is a portrayal of an empirical situation – within it, the boundaries between

reality and illusion are blurred, and the conf lict and tension between void and

anticipation are heightened.

When the Nights Are Getting Longer

100ft Park, Hong Kong



Half

2013

Slide projection

Dimensions variable

Exhibited in W hen the Nights Are Getting Longer at 100ft Park, Hong Kong


Half is comprised of a light projection of a circle, positioned at the foot of a wall so as

to suggest a sunrise or sunset, moments of time that seem to be elongated, as if by the

long rays of the sun’s light over the earth’s arc. Wong’s use of a static projection halts

time entirely, forcing the viewer into a constant state of expectation.

The notion of intentional waiting, or active passivity, appeals to the artist; for her,

it is comparable to the state of insomnia: the moment right before the sun sets or rises

marks the transition from day to night, a symbolic time for someone who suffers from

habitual sleeplessness.

(installat ion view)


The Drawings consists of f ive framed graphite drawings, each containing a

‘spinning wheel’, the well-known and much-loathed digital content loading symbol.

Building on the exhibition theme, these wheels are symbolic of both the passing and

the suspension of time.

The loading wheel indicates a lull, or a temporary pause, in an ongoing action. During

this pause, the user enters a state of waiting, whilst time continues to pass. This state of

both action and inaction is comparable to that of insomnia, where a person is prevented

from rest, yet immobilised by the time of day – essentially caught in limbo.

In The Drawings, Wong employs f ive frames to mimic the arrangement of typical

home decoration. Thus removed from the digital world, the framed loading wheels

represent the physical state of waiting.

The Drawings

2013

Graphite on paper

Dimensions variable

Exhibited in W hen the Nights Are Getting Longer at 100ft Park, Hong Kong



(detail)


Monochrome

2012

Silent video on loop

4 min., 33 sec.

Exhibited in Sleeping Waves at Soundpocket, Hong Kong

(18 May–16 June 2013)

Monochrome features a video of a still image that zooms out from a single pixel over the

course of four minutes and thirty-three seconds to reveal Yves Klein’s Blue Monochrome

(1961) and a person viewing it. The drastically extended process of the video, owing to

the mathematical formula chosen by the artist, creates great suspense and release – as the

viewer only comprehends the scene in the f inal frames.

(alternate views)


Sleeping Waves

Soundpocket, Hong Kong

(18 May–16 June 2013)

Sleeping Waves was Wong’s f irst solo exhibition in Hong Kong, held on the occasion

of her winning the Soundpocket Supported Artist of the Year award in 2013.

The installation represents the physical experience of time in suspension as well as

the subconscious mind. The selection of work inherits a form of repetitive patterns,

created by visuals and sound. These act as a portal to an inf inite continuation within

waiting-ness, imaginations and struggles that go beyond the physical.


The Moon and Cicada is a video projection of the common television test-screen image

and its associated test-tone soundtrack. Though a still image, the projection brightens

and dims with the volume intensity of the broadcast audio signal. The circular shape

and variations of brightness of the test-screen image mimic the moon and emulate

the effect of clouds and weather on its visibility. Positioned high on the wall of the

installation space, the work echoes its title whilst the pulsating soundtrack imitates the

sound of cicadas chirping at night.

The Moon and Cicada

2013

Video projection and sound

Dimensions variable


(18 May–16 June 2013)


Continuous Wave

2012

TV monitors, DVD and DVD player

Dimensions variable


(18 May–16 June 2013)

Continous Wave consists of a looping video and a static screen playing on separate TV

monitors, one showing a waterfall and the other depicting white noise. The title of the

work refers both to the waves of water falling and to the radio waves that are causing

the static by interfering with the signal. The sounds of the f lowing water and the white

noise from the respective videos crash together in the installation, composing a song of

symphonic nuance.


Staged with a standard bed, Again consists of eight speakers concealed inside the

mattress, randomly playing the word ‘again’ that has been edited from various pop songs.

Again is an interactive installation in which viewers are invited to lie down, creating a

further simulated experience within an already-immersive space. Wong chose the word

‘again’ for its sense of repetition; playing it over and over brings to mind the act of

counting sheep on sleepless nights.

Again

2013

Bed and speakers

Dimensions variable


(18 May–16 June 2013)

100 / Curriculum Vitae 101 / Curriculum Vitae

NICOLE WONG

Born in 1990, lives and works in Hong Kong

Education

2012 BFA (Hon.), Nottingham Trent University, Nottingham

2009 National Diploma in Art and Design

University for the Creative Arts, Canterbury

Selected Solo Exhibitions

2016 Day in, day out, Rossi & Rossi Hong Kong

2013 When the Nights Are Getting Longer, 100ft Park, Hong Kong

Sight Reading and other short stories, Art and Culture Outreach (ACO), Hong Kong

Sleeping Waves, Soundpocket, Hong Kong

Selected Group Exhibitions

2016 Songs without Words, 100ft Park, Hong Kong

2015 ART15, London

After/image, Pure Art Foundation, Hong Kong

2014 Artspiration of Bread, Oil Street Art Space, Hong Kong

Griff in Art Prize exhibition, High House, Oxon ( January), and

White Moose Gallery, Devon (March)

2013 These Shores, Rossi & Rossi Hong Kong

Busan Cultural Exchange Exhibition, Busan Cinema Centre, Busan

Simularcra Affinity, Hong Kong Visual Art Centre, Hong Kong

Griff in Art Prize shortlist exhibition, Griff in Gallery, London

Triad Conversation: Cultural Diversity Art Exhibition,

Namsong Art Museum, Gapyeong-gun

Object Abused, Spinach, London

HK Contemporary Award Exhibition, Moon Gallery, Hong Kong

Artists in HK, Excelsior Hotel, Hong Kong

Hong Kong Art Prize, Wheelock Gallery, Hong Kong

2012 INVASION, Jewellery Quarter, Birmingham

Not Another Colour Exhibition, ThirtyFive Gamble, Nottingham

Final Degree Show, Nottingham Trent University, Nottingham

2011 Wonderbread, Malt Cross Gallery, Nottingham

Awards and Honours

2013 Finalist, Griff in Art Prize, London

Finalist, Hong Kong Art Prize, Hong Kong

Grand Prize, Hong Kong Contemporary Art Award, Hong Kong

Soundpocket Artist Support Programme, Hong Kong

102 / About 103 / About

ROSSI & ROSSI

Rossi & Rossi was established in London in 1986 by Anna Maria Rossi, who was soon joined by her son, Fabio.

Operating from Hong Kong and London, the gallery today is amongst the leading representatives of

contemporary artists from the Asia-Pacif ic region.

From remote areas of Kazakhstan and Cambodia to the urban epicentres of Hong Kong and Singapore,

Rossi & Rossi artists produce work as diverse as their countries of origin, but are all engaged in the exploration

of the visual language of art that comments upon our world and the artist, the individual and the wider society –

the links and the gulfs between us.

Rossi & Rossi’s clients include distinguished private collectors and major museums worldwide, amongst them

the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York; M+, Hong Kong; the Art Institute of Chicago; the Los Angeles

County Museum of Art; the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston; the Rubin Museum of Art, New York;

the Cleveland Museum of Art; the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford; the Tokyo National Museum; the Louvre

Abu Dhabi; the Art Gallery of New South Wales, Sydney; and the Queensland Art Gallery, Brisbane.

Rossi & Rossi is a member of SLAD (the Society of London Art Dealers), Asian Art in London (AAL),

the Hong Kong Art Gallery Association (HKAGA) and the South Island Cultural District (SICD).

Rossi & Rossi participates in pre-eminent regional and international art fairs, including Art Basel Hong Kong

and TEFAF Maastricht.

Rossi & Rossi represents

Rasheed Araeen

Fereydoun Ave

Konstantin Bessmertny

Faiza Butt

Heman Chong

Ma Desheng

Christopher Doyle

Gade

Naiza H. Khan

Lee Mingwei

Abbas Kiarostami

Kesang Lamdark

Erbossyn Meldibekov

Nortse

Tenzing Rigdol

Leang Seckon

Tsherin Sherpa

Palden Weinreb

Nicole Wong

Anna Maria Rossi, Owner/Founder

Fabio Rossi, Owner/Principal

Staff

London

Mauro Ribero, Director

Kim-Ling Humphrey, Gallery Manager

Hong Kong

Corey Andrew Barr, Director

Ashley Shen, Gallery Associate

Luk Chun Wang, Registrar

First published to coincide with the exhibition

Nicole Wong

Day in, day out

Rossi & Rossi London

15 September–27 October 2016

Texts

John Batten, Allison Cheung, Corey Barr

Photography

Matt Pia, Luk Chun Wang

Editor

Eti Bonn-Muller

globaleditorialservices.com

Design

Alander Wong (Daily Good Studio)

The artist would like to thank:

Fabio Rossi

John Batten

Elaine Ng

Yang Yeung

Andre Chan

South Ho

© The authors, the artist and Rossi & Rossi Ltd. Unless indicated otherwise,

all images courtesy of the artist and Rossi & Rossi. All rights reserved. No part of this publication

may be transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy,

recording or any storage or retrieval system, without prior permission

from the copyright holders and publishers.

© Rossi & Rossi Ltd. 2016

ISBN 978-1-906576-48-6

27 Dover Street London W1S 4LZ +44 20 7629 6888 rossirossi .com

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