To curate, is to care for the soul of things. Interestingly, the term has religious roots—it originally referred to a priest’s care for the spiritual and psychological needs of his village.
This is going to sound quite dire, but there’s almost always a “crisis moment” going on at work. There are a lot of things happening here at once.
Everything has to be perfect. There are no excuses for shortchanging a visitor’s experience.
Artists are the way they are because they take their work very seriously. If you’re serious about art, you can communicate many things and even change the way society thinks.
For a long time, the government couldn’t see how art was relevant. But now, they do see that there really is such a thing as cultural capital.
My work day started before I’d even gone to sleep last night!
I believe we’re influenced by forces that we can’t measure. I believe in the unconscious.
I wish we didn’t have to think about Singapore in a segmented way, via mother tongue and race. All I see are dividing lines.
Sometimes when I’m talking to someone I suddenly know what astrological sign they are. That really worries me: How do I know that?
When a culture comes of age enough to look back on itself and figure out what it’s not prepared to lose—that’s when a museum comes about.
I run on idealism. If you want to make things happen, you can’t afford to be weak. You can’t afford to give in to your tiredness.
When St. Joseph’s Institution had vacated the building that is now SAM, I snuck into their library with a friend and we found so many books that they’d left behind. It was such a magical moment.
Everybody thinks I’m a Scorpio.
What keeps me sane? I try to see the light side of things—and the bigger picture. Nothing worthwhile ever was achieved easily.
