When Questions Are Answers

“We do not have to stand in the position of the one who knows,
but perhaps stand in the position of one who questions.”
— Robert Blake

In a time of information explosion, it seems the best answer to any question is really more questions. From the perspective of the one being asked, the concern is how does one dare to be definitive when there is so much information out there? More importantly, a question opens up possibilities by continuing the questioner’s quest to learn instead of ending it, and also opens up a dialogue between the two.

This was the form of curation that Robert Blake, a former Chair of the International Centre of Photography’s General Studies Program, advocated at the Singapore International Photography Festival’s Curatorial Forum, one that was inviting and open rather than one that purely informs.

Such a stand can be extended to all works of expressions. After all, a question prods the minds of the audience to actively seek an answer instead of simply being a passive receiver. This engages the audience by giving them the space to create their own conclusions. It is this act of creation, of allowing the reader to decide, that makes a work gets “owned” and is more lasting because it creates a dialogue that could go anywhere. And it is also not forestalling the possibilities, the lack of definiteness in answers, that is the most exciting product of a great work.

This approach is grounded in one solution to the dilemma of representation today: that is how to embrace plurality. As Blake postulated, how does one look at history in less narrow terms so as to recognise the multitude of frames — colonialism, nationalism — that can and has been placed over it.

While the energy represented by such a vision is truly uplifting, one wonders how this could be abused as an excuse for vague works, the fear of engaging an issue head-on, or simply encourage an atmosphere of anything goes. That is the problem when one widens gates that were once narrow, you let in the good and also the bad.

When you start doing, but stop thinking

The past weeks have been crazy as I’ve tried to juggle so many things all at the same time — FYP, outsight, side projects, friends, personal development and the future. I wish life was less hectic and more sequential, but as a friend puts it in his blog in Helvetica Neue, “That’s how life is, everything at once.”

One thing that has definitely happened is I do more and I think less. In the name of efficiency (yes, it’s that dirty word), I find myself jumping straight into doing even before I’ve carefully thought out things. What suffers then is my judgement and my ability to explore. I start finding my work repetitive and my satisfaction (maybe, relief) is derived from getting it done rather than getting it done well. And it is only in recent weeks, in light of some events that have made me reflect on what I have been doing.

More importantly, being able to step back now do I see how my decisions reflect the values I seem to have as a person and I’m going through a period of finding out who I am as a person and re-evaluating my values. It is this thinking, doing, reflecting that I think is what Bruce Mau refers to as process in his Incomplete Manifesto and it is something I’m seeking to be aware of in everything I do.

This is one reason why this blog exists and why I have that notebook with me. Just by seeing how little I’ve been writing and doodling, it shows I’ve hardly been thinking. I’m going to be more conscientious about these things again.