As one of Singapore’s most internationally-visible “exports”, photographer John Clang’s images have found themselves everywhere, from art galleries, fairs and museums to magazines, newspapers and advertising campaigns. But there’s one photograph he doesn’t plan on sharing with anyone — that of the second plane crashing into New York’s World Trade Centre during 9/11. “My wife, Elin, and I lived two blocks away. The night before, we had just come back from Singapore and thought of withdrawing money there that morning. We changed our minds and decided to go that night instead,” shared Mr Clang. “The next morning, while I was out buying bagels for breakfast, I saw the second plane hit and I snapped one shot. I witnessed the whole thing collapse. If we went that morning, we would’ve been right there. It was all fate.” WINDOW WATCHING How he ended up living in New York and becoming a hotshot visual artist was more than just a matter of fate, however. It is equally a fascinating tale of old-fashioned determination. In town for two simultaneous solo exhibitions at the National Museum of Singapore and Art Stage Singapore, the amiable 40-year-old Clang chatted with TODAY about his start in his art. For someone who would end up looking at the world through the lens, it was perhaps fitting that as a child, he recalled, he was often looking out of windows. His working-class parents (Mum was a store saleswoman, Dad a hawker) were too busy to take care of him and his younger brother, so Mr Clang shuttled back and forth between relatives’ homes, where he would regularly wait by the window for his visiting mother. He discovered photography as a 15-year-old Anglican High School student. Strongly believing he could pursue his art seriously, Mr Clang turned down junior college and went to LASALLE College of the Arts. “I had no money to buy paint!” he shared. “I had to work to support myself — it was study, work, study, work. I sold shoes at Toa Payoh, I did tele-marketing, all sorts of things.” LUCK, GUTS AND A NEW NAME Unsatisfied with what he was learning in school, he took it upon himself to learn elsewhere — as an assistant to visual artist and Cultural Medallion recipient Chua Soo Bin, whom Mr Clang regards as a “great influence”. But there was also a bit of luck involved — an encounter with visual artist Suzann Victor led to his first exhibition, a group show in 1993 at the now-defunct 5th Passage gallery. “I was 20 and thought, ‘Okay, now I finally have a gallery where I can continue showing’,” he said. Unfortunately, it closed the following year, following the high-profile controversy surrounding performance artist Josef Ng’s “pubic hair” protest piece. Mr Clang vowed to continue creating his art photographs but decided to stop selling them, refusing invitations to exhibit in places like Raffles Hotel and Park Mall (“the venues and audiences were wrong”). Instead, he began to make his mark as a commercial photographer. With a mere S$4,000 in his account and only one piece of lighting equipment, he set up a studio and took on assignments. At some point, he was invited by photographer Theseus Chan to become the director of photography for his magazine Werk. By then, Mr Clang had married his longtime partner-in-crime Elin Tew (whom he describes as his “soulmate”). Professionally, a necessary kind of brand, too, had already been established — his “surname” was derived from his name tag during national service (his real name is Ang Choon Leng) and he even bleached his hair white to match the foreign-sounding name. There was, he recalled, a kind of bias towards foreign photographers. “Back then, if you told them you were John Ang, nobody will see you. If it was John Clang, it was really quick.” HERMES? WHAT’S THAT? By the late 1990s, New York City was already beckoning. During a 1995 visit to shoot a campaign for Levi’s Asia-Pacific, the couple fell in love with the city. Four years later, they took the big leap. “We didn’t know anyone and didn’t have any idea where to get a place to live,” he said. Eventually renting a small room at the East Village, Mr Clang fell sick for the first three months and, living off their savings, it was six more months before the first call came. It was from French fashion brand Hermes. “I was, like, Hermes? What’s that?” he quipped. The couple were flown to Paris for a pow-wow with then-Creative Director Martin Margiela. The campaign he did shot him into the big league, but when Hermes came knocking a second time, he turned them down. “That was quite stupid,” he admitted sheepishly. “I didn’t feel I was the right person for (the campaign) and if I accepted, it would be doing them an injustice. But no matter how nicely I put it, over the phone and with my accent, they probably thought I was a snob!” That was enough to kickstart his New York career, however. Mr Clang later signed up with top photography agency Art And Commerce (which had been home to artists like Robert Mapplethorpe and Annie Leibovitz) and assignments poured in from the likes of IKEA, Ebay, AT&T, Nike, Motorola and The New York Times, among others. SINGAPORE GETS DIBS But there was one missing piece in the puzzle — his art photography. And even as he continued to exhibit in group and solo shows in New York, Paris, Los Angeles and London, he still refused to sell. He wanted Singapore to have first dibs. “I believe artists must have roots. So I had this romantic thing about wanting to do my show and sell to collectors here,” he explained. In 2004 and 2007, he did just that, with solos at The Esplanade’s Jendela and at the Substation, respectively. Mr Clang had also resisted signing up with an international gallery for the longest time and, in 2010, he found the perfect match in Singapore’s 2902 Gallery. “It was my first gallery in the world, actually. I felt I was rooted again and back to my 5th Passage days,” he said. With two shows during Singapore’s biggest visual arts shebang this week, things seem to have fittingly come full circle for an artist whose career has seemed a textbook success story. Except that, when he started out, there was no manual he could refer to. It was all DIY for Mr Clang, who himself dismissed any ideas that he was in it for anything other than his art. “It was never about trying to make it ‘big’. A lot of people think that way of me, but I really just wanted to do my thing. I believe in doing work.” And darn good work it turned out to be.