When it comes to visual art exhibitions, are performances merely adjunct events that supplement or flavour a show or are these necessarily integral pieces in making sense of what remains in the gallery on “normal” days? It’s just a fleeting thought I had after recently dropping by Turn, Susie Lingham’s current solo show at the Substation. I missed last week’s opening performance by Lingham and her collaborators—and prior to this, I had also missed all three of Angie Seah’s performances that took place during her own exhibition. In Seah’s Primal Screams, it’s mainly because, as I mentioned in a previous post, sound and performance art is closely intertwined with her visual practices. Lingham wears even more hats—critic, curator, academic—and this very show is the result of her digging up an old one, that of artist. Of course, there’s a simpler reason why I’m so curious about the opening performance: I simply want more of what Turn pushes for.

A detail from Susie Lingham's Chronicurl series at Turn.

In an interview for Singapore Art Gallery Guide, Lingham mentions the kinetic aspect of the word (as verb, noun or adjective) and its “alchemical” potential as an idea. It is this brink, this turning point, that Lingham meticulously explores via book art, paper works, glass sculptures, diorama installations, many of which are laden with poetic texts, associative wordplay, hints of numerology, as well as inkblot imagery.

A detail from Susie Lingham's An Unkempt Metaphysical Alphabet And A Pseudorandom Pataphysical Alphabet from Turn.

Dualities are examined in An Unkempt Metaphysical Alphabet And A Pseudorandom Pataphysical Alphabet, her limited edition book, the pages of which are also displayed as a series of 26 Rorschach-ish inkblots that extend into words that interrogate each other: Knot/Karma, Formlessness/Freedom, Riddle/Reality, etc. Inkblots are likewise seen in 64 Shifts, comprising circular pieces of paper stuck on the wall, curling like a tendril even as its individual pieces seemingly fold into itself.

Susie Lingham's 64 Shifts from Turn. The most enigmatic perhaps are her Klein bottles, those Möbius strip-ish glass objects, encased in transparent boxes on which are written riddle-like statements. Each work comprising two: one that’s whole and another that’s cross-sectioned. On the box of Invisible The One: “In a heaving sea of ninety-nine, it marks but ninety-eight. Invisible the One till eye to eye: And then it duplicates.” On the halved piece, the same enigmatic wordplay seen in the Alphabet work: Obverse/Obscure. But the best of the lot has to be the three works comprising the Chronicurl series. Here’s where Lingham’s “alchemical” comment resonates deeply—dioramas on plinths comprising layers partially peeled away to reveal texts, images of the Mayan calendar, ancient cosmological and geographical maps, old medical diagrams. From afar, the structures look rather nondescript, like television cabinets. But peer inside and before you know it, you’re sucked Lingham’s delicately crafted works that funnel and spiral down with the distinct sensation that it could just go on forever. Have to say, these are some of the best works I’ve seen this year.

A detail from Susie Lingham's Chronicurl series at Turn. (Turn runs until Dec 1 at The Substation. Details here.)