Thomas Powell forecasts stormy weather for empires
Having lived in Penang on and off for the past 17 years and married a local, Thomas Powell certainly feels settled enough to pass for a Penangite, or Penang lang in Hokkien. So much so that his mixed-media works now paint the blue skies here rather than elsewhere.
So, where does the contradiction come in? For one, Penang and the rest of Malaysia, as well as Singapore, are heavily affected by haze from land and forest fires in Indonesia. A visit to Cultprint might get you out of the haze momentarily and into a world of make-believe blue skies, but Up in the Air, the exhibition’s title, is pointedly about darker concerns, uncertainty and contradictions.
‘An artist that pays attention’
The exhibition brief frames the show as a response to Malaysia’s recurring haze and forecasts of a strong El Nino, which Powell warned could bring fires, water shortages and food insecurity, with those living on the fringes likely to suffer most. Still, he is not predicting the end of the world. He sees unusual weather as a reminder to be better prepared, less wasteful and more connected to the systems that keep us comfortable.
“I always try and make aesthetically pleasing artwork at the start but throw in something that helps trigger a thought or discussion,” said Powell. Asked whether that makes him an activist, the 40-year-old British artist was quick to wave the label away.
“Activist? No. Just an artist that pays attention.”
The wall text, written by Charlotte Pyatt, describes objects loaded with cultural, social and political meaning floating among the clouds, their absurd juxtapositions moving between childlike wonder and violent opulence.
Powell explained that the title refers to the uncertainty of living in a world where people believe there is structure and that certain rules have kept civilisation moving forward. Yet, he agreed that those same rules have brought us to where we are today and that there must be better ways of doing things.
Surprisingly, there are no captions beside the works, a deliberate choice so viewers can arrive at their own readings.
“I want to leave it ambiguous.”
Winged figures floating through several canvases might easily be mistaken for angels, one of them wearing a gas mask with a red fire extinguisher in hand. Powell, however, based them on sculptures of Nike, the Greek goddess of victory. The figures invite viewers to consider whether victory today means simply winning, or using wealth, resources, manpower and technology to move humanity in the right direction.
The clouds, too, might be soft and fluffy, or the aftermath of an explosion or extreme weather event. Among them float porcelain bombs glazed in blue-and-white chinaware and a porcelain apple.
“You can’t eat the technology,” said Powell, a remark that carries an obvious double meaning.
The exhibition is not without humour, as a haloed mango drips down its canvas while lemons hover above a smudge of smoke.
“Food insecurity. It’ll be sad not to have mangoes,” Powell said, adding that lemons are better than no food at all and that the works are tongue-in-cheek and can be read in different ways.
Yet, beneath the humour lies Powell’s frustration with the contradictions in what humans choose to do. He argued that leaders readily send a missile across the world to strike a tent, yet food, healthcare and other things that improve lives do not receive the same urgency, perhaps because there is less profit in them.
History repeating itself
In Mammon, a 10ft by 6ft painting Powell completed on site in just three days using acrylic-based paints, an airbrush and solid paint markers, he offers a modern take on Polish artist Ludwik Stasiak’s The Allegory of Satan (Lord of the World), painted around 1900.
Powell’s crowned figure wears a stars-and-stripes cloak and sits on a throne mounted on tank treads. The original’s devil wings have become flares released by an American bomber to evade incoming missiles. In the photograph Powell used, the flares resembled angel wings.
The red, white and blue stripes recurring throughout the works evoke memories of empires, Powell explained, leaving viewers to guess which ones. However, he stressed that they were not a reference to Malaysia, whose flag mostly shares the same colours. What troubles him is not so much blame as the fact that some people know they are doing wrong and simply do not care.
History repeating itself through the rise and fall of civilisations is another theme, explored through a series of small skull studies called Civ 1, Civ 2 and so on.
“No one ever thinks their time is up or says: ‘Let’s call it a day and hand over the baton to the next group’,” Powell correctly pointed out.
Most of the skulls are crowned, while one wears the headdress of a pharaoh. The skulls serve as studies for the larger Mammon, which sits directly opposite in an ornate, distressed frame.
In one installation, sand covers the gallery floor. A skeleton in a gas mask lounges on a deck chair beneath a broken striped beach umbrella, surrounded by yellow jerry cans, water bottles, a suitcase stuffed with cash and charred wood scattered with dollar notes. It is a parody of the survivalist, rather than a prediction of civilisation’s collapse, Powell explained, although he believes there are things coming our way for which we should be prepared.
One idea that has stayed with him is the distinction between philia sophia, the love of wisdom, and philia nikia, the love of victory. The former involves remaining open to information that challenges one’s worldview, while the latter is concerned only with winning the argument.
In the end, the show offers no easy answers and with the future uncertain, everything remains, well, up in the air.
Up in the Air runs at Cultprint, George Town, until Dec 6. Opening hours are Friday to Sunday, noon to 7pm.