News

Haffendi Anuar | Beers London

Haffendi Anuar & Nadia Waheed: For The Few And The Many

“For the Few and the Many, presents the paintings of Pakistani-born, Saudi-American artist Nadia Waheed with a sculptural presentation by Malaysian sculptor Haffendi Anuar.

Saudi-born, Pakistani-American artist Nadia Waheed has lived in places such as Islamabad, Paris, Sydney, Cairo, and the USA. In fact, she hasn’t lived in the same place for longer than four years. As such, the notion of displacement, vulnerability and identity has undoubtedly woven itself into her paintings. She states that the figures in her paintings are herself - but also others: "The women are [versions of] me, but also others. They’re two women, but also one woman...women contain multitudes", she states. 

In a similar vein the works of Malaysian sculptor Haffendi Anuar speak to a similar notion of identity in flux - although his concern is less about the 'self' and more about the external environment. Like Waheed, Anuar has lived in London, Rhode Island, and China, and this desire to comprehend one's place in the world has - for Anuar - manifested in the form of the piloti. Pilotis are structural columns made to lift a building from the ground, and/or above water. As such, they function duplicitously: by both providing the connection to a foundation but also by offering a detachment from said foundation. In the same instance, both artists are talking about singularity - and multiplicity. “

Read full press release here

18 May 2019 – 22 Jun 2019

Opening Times:

Tues-Fri: 10-6
Sat: 11-5

Herman Rahman | British Journal of Photography

Tracing the collective history of North Korea

Théâtre de la Cruauté (trans. Theatre of Cruelty) | Series: Han

Théâtre de la Cruauté (trans. Theatre of Cruelty) | Series: Han

Using a combination of original shots, archival imagery, and found text, Herman Rahman traces the limits of both a secretive state and photography

“There is a term to describe the cultural ache that Koreans go through: Han. A complex intermingling of historical, collective and personal sorrow, acceptance of a bitter present, and a hope of a better future.” Introduced to the term by a North Korean defector, Herman Rahman decided to adopt it as the framing concept for his project of the same name.

Han traces the collective history of the notoriously closed regime of the Democratic People’s Republic of North Korea, relying largely on archival imagery and found text to probe at the borders of a near-impenetrable subject. The work is an interrogation, not only of the secrecy of the North Korean state, but also of the nature of photography itself.

The impetus for the project came from the 24-year-old’s reflections on image-sharing, and the way that pictures can circulate internationally without restriction – in most of the world. “Where in the world does this image-reliant, postmodernist network we have created for ourselves not reach into? North Korea,” Rahman concluded.

A series of images of binoculars shot on a trip to the Korean Demilitarised Zone, the strip of land between North and South Korea, became a personal turning point. “Binoculars are known as a tool for sight and clarity, but there is no sense of clarity when it comes to North Korea because we have not constructed that sort of narrative yet,” he says. “We don’t see much, and we don’t know much.”

Rahman decided against entering North Korea to take photographs, though, as he didn’t want to sumbit to the strict control image-making is put under there. “The spectator, the tourist, then becomes an actor within the laws of the state,” he says.

Rahman, who recently graduated from the London College of Communication, continues in the tradition of research-led, conceptual image-making which makes heavy use of text, citing Taryn Simon, Alfredo Jaar and two years spent assisting Broomberg & Chanarin as formative influences. “Most of the artists that I’m drawn towards are politically affiliated,” he insists. “They are investigating structures and modes of power, and power’s ability to inflict violence and suffering on a large scale.”

Having grown up in conservative Singapore, Rahman realised that the DPRK presented him with an opportunity to experiment with ways of visualising freedom and its curtailment. Despite its inherent difficulties and already extensive scope, the work is ongoing: “This might all be futile, but if not for the betterment of my own self- understanding, perhaps people might leave seeing the work having learned something.”

Full Article: https://www.bjp-online.com/2018/08/herman-rahman/