Underclass

TIRED BY the huge mess my old works had become, I sat down over a few weeks in 2016 with my former colleague, Jason Tan, to sort them out. First, along a few themes and then, to write something cohesive about them. Eventually, they took the form of four PDFs. “Underclass” is among the pieces that came under “The Power of Zero” which I hope, with additional pieces, to turn into an exhibition.

Jason wrote the following on the painting:

Amorphous creatures on a vessel, some of whom appear to be shot through with holes in their heads, look upwards into the pitch black night, mouths agape, holding masts of shredded garments illuminated in different colours.

The poorest of the poor with only the clothes on their backs compete for our attention with the extra baggage allowance we would all like for our next getaway.

But with none of their own, the new globalised underclass who must abandon their bombed homes are the ones truly free to see the world — and humanity — as it is, and not what we make it out to be.

Shorn of the markers of identity, of nationality and borders; cut off from their social networks and literally all at sea, the new underclass are empty of the material possessions and social constructs we use to distinguish ourselves from one another.

They are bereft in their temporal existence and naked to the mercy of universal goodwill. In short, they are at zero and call upon us to recognise that their — and our — humanity is worth rescuing.

In this litmus test of hope that springs eternal, the wealth of meaning in what it means to be human might yet manifest.

It is also in this light that human rights are best seen as being inalienable, however foreign those with nothing seem to us. To spell it out, humanity is indivisible. Being human is not merely enough, it is all; life itself.