In discussion with Teng Yen Hui

Curator Teng Yen Hui. Image courtesy of Singapore Art Museum

Teng Yen Hui is Curator and Manager, Collections at Singapore Art Museum. Prior to taking on curatorial work at SAM, she worked independently on several writing projects and exhibitions – some of which involved more spreadsheets than anticipated, and others that thankfully did not. Her recent curatorial projects include When the World Stops Turning (2024), Ocean in Us: Southern Visions of Women Artists (2024), Everyday Practices (2024), SAM Contemporaries: Residues & Remixes (2023) and Can Everybody See My Screen? (2022).

Yen Hui holds a BSc in Economics from the Singapore Management University and an M.A. in Asian Art Histories conferred by Goldsmiths, University of London (LASALLE). Her research interests include queer visual cultures, performative practices, and more-than-human knowledges in Asia.

Outside of work, she enjoys puns and dirt biking — the latter being a too-tired (two-tired) and exhausting activity.

I had the pleasure and honor of asking Teng about what is most captivating to you in the SAM collection and why, what aspects of the exhibition do you hope will resonate most with the audience, and so much more

UZOMAH: Tehching Hsieh's seminal work inspires Everyday Practices. How did this inform the curation and selection of artworks as part of the exhibition? 

TENG: The concept of Everyday Practices draws from Tehching Hsieh’s seminal work One Year Performance 1978–1979, which distills life to its simplest routines and explores the boundaries of solitude, time, and endurance. Hsieh’s unwavering commitment to duration and repetition, and his ability to reveal the profound within the mundane, offered a compelling starting point for the exhibition. Building on his philosophies, we framed our curatorial approach around three keywords: “everyday,” “repetition,” and “endurance.” These ideas guided our selection from the SAM Collection, highlighting the inventive ways artists draw from daily life to articulate resilience, introspection, and persistence in the face of adversity.

A challenge in developing the exhibition was translating these conceptual threads into a coherent spatial experience. Instead of dividing the show into strict thematic sections, we chose to create a fluid, intuitive flow that allowed visual and conceptual affinities to unfold organically. This approach offered room for visitors to discover connections between the personal and political, the intimate and the collective, and ultimately invite them to reflect on how everyday acts can carry quiet strength and meaning.

U: How significant was it to incorporate Asian artists in celebrating the life and work of Tehching Hsieh?

T: While Everyday Practices is not a tribute to Tehching Hsieh’s life or career, his One Year Performance 1978–1979 served as a key conceptual anchor for the exhibition. His rigorous exploration of endurance, repetition, and the everyday provided a critical lens through which to consider how artists across Asia respond to the conditions of their time. Focusing on Asian artists allowed for a regionally grounded conversation around these themes, aligning with SAM’s ongoing commitment to championing Southeast Asian art and amplifying diverse voices and practices in the region.

The exhibition brings together 19 artists and one artist collective from ten Asian countries. Spanning different generations and media, the works reflect a broad spectrum of approaches to the themes of the “everyday,” “repetition,” and “endurance.” By placing these practices in dialogue, we hope that Everyday Practices offers a layered exploration of how contemporary art from Asia engages with the complexities of lived experience and the quiet strength found in daily acts.

U: What aspects of the exhibition do you hope will resonate most with the audience?

T: Everyday Practices was developed to explore how our daily routines and actions—which may often be dismissed as mundane—can carry profound meaning. We hope audiences will be moved by how these seemingly simple acts can become powerful forms of personal expression and quiet resistance. We also hope that visitors may leave with a renewed appreciation for the everyday – not just as mere backdrop to life, but a space where meaning is made, identities are shaped, and where quiet acts of care, survival and solidarity unfold. In this way, the exhibition invites audiences to see art not only as a mirror of the world, but also as a tool for navigating it.

U: What is your favorite museum to visit and why?

T: It’s difficult to pick just one, but the museum that made me fall in love with museums is the Louisiana Museum of Modern Art in Copenhagen. When I first visited 15 years ago, I remember being struck not just by their exhibitions but by how seamlessly art, architecture and landscape came together. There’s a certain generosity in how the museum was designed; it felt less like entering a formal institution and more like being invited into a space of reflection. It taught me that museums don’t have to overwhelm to be powerful, that they can be places of intimacy, clarity and deep attention. I think that early experience has stayed with me and continues to shape how I think about space, about care in curatorial work, and also the emotional texture of exhibitions.

U: What piece of art is the most captivating to you in the SAM collection and why?

T: It’s difficult to single out one artwork from the SAM Collection as so many resonate in different ways, and often it’s in the relationships between them that something truly compelling begins to emerge.

One thread I’ve found myself returning to is the tension between the desire to collect the immaterial and the challenges that come with it—how works rooted in gesture, time, or memory resist being neatly contained. This became especially present to me while working on Everyday Practices, where several of the works—initially conceived as performances—now exist as video documentation, photographic traces, or physical remnants. The artworks continued to speak, even in their altered forms, prompting questions about what endures, what is lost, and how meaning shifts across time.

Rather than being drawn to a singular object, I’m intrigued by how these kinds of works live on through recollection or re-encounter. This curiosity has carried into The Living Room, an exhibition I’m currently working on that opens in September. It explores how ephemeral and performative works can continue to speak across time, even after their original moments have passed.

U: As a curator, what do you consider the most essential characteristic?

T: I’d say attentiveness. Attentiveness to artists, to context, to the world around us. Because curating isn’t just about selecting works or crafting narratives or organising things in space. It’s fundamentally about listening carefully to what an artwork is trying to say, to the conditions that shaped it, and to the nuances of its reception. Being attentive allows one to hold space for complexity and to work collaboratively and ethically with artists. It also means paying close attention to what’s missing or underrepresented — to ask who isn’t in the room, whose stories aren’t being told, and how institutions can be challenged through the curatorial process. For me personally, that kind of attentiveness is the foundation for meaningful, responsible and resonant work.

U: What personal experiences have influenced your journey to becoming a curator, and how have they shaped your approach to curation?

T: Looking back, I think my path to curating began long before I knew the word for it. I’ve always been drawn to creative pursuits, to words and language, to storytelling in all its forms. In my younger years I recall filling notebook after notebook with snippets of texts, visuals, moody song lyrics, memories, anything that caught or stirred something in me. Perhaps it was teenage angst! Or maybe it was just my way of trying to make sense of the world – both the one around me and the one within. That impulse, I later realised, wasn’t so much about creating things as it was a desire to hold things in relation, to perhaps make space for things that don’t appear to fit neatly together on first look. That instinct continues to shape how I approach curating today: not so much as a process to fix meaning, but as a way of staying with ambiguity and contradiction. Of trusting that meaning can nonetheless emerge from the simple act of holding space for complexity.

U: Can you discuss how you stay current with the latest trends and practices in the art world? How do you apply them to the exhibitions you are curating?

T: I wouldn't say I actively follow trends; in fact I tend to be a little wary of them. I think what matters more to me is paying close attention to what artists are thinking about, what questions they’re asking, and how they’re responding to the world around them. I’m drawn to practices that emerge from sustained inquiry or lived experience, or even an explicable obsession — rather than what happens to be circulating in art fairs or headlines at any given moment. That means staying in conversation with artists,  reading across disciplines, and remaining attuned to the issues — personal, political, planetary (3Ps!) — that are shaping contemporary life. Often it’s in the quieter and slower practices that I find the most resonant ideas — those that may not register as “trends” but that carry (in my eyes) a kind of long-view relevance. When curating, I try my best to stay responsive to what the artworks themselves are asking for, what kinds of conditions or contexts or conversations they need in order to fully resonate. Rather than chasing what’s current, I’m more interested in creating exhibitions that hold space for complexity and connection — things that, hopefully, don’t go out of style.

U : The art world can be tricky for an Asian artist in terms of visibility, especially for Asian women artists. How can museums, galleries, and other art spaces change that?

T: At SAM, we believe in creating an inclusive and equitable art ecosystem where diverse voices, especially those historically underrepresented, are given the space and support they deserve. The presence of Asian women artists is not just a matter of representation; it’s about reshaping the narratives that define contemporary art and who gets to be part of it.

Museums, galleries, and other art spaces play a crucial role in this work. Visibility must be supported by long-term, intentional commitment — through sustained curatorial engagement, meaningful collaborations, and the commissioning of works that reflect the complexities of artists’ lived experiences. At SAM, we work closely with artists from Singapore, Southeast Asia, and beyond, ensuring their practices are not only seen and heard, but contextualised with care and depth.

Recent solo exhibitions by artists Jane Lee (2022) and Yee I-Lann (2024) reflect our ongoing efforts to platform women artists from the region in ways that are thoughtful and sustained. But visibility alone isn’t enough. We also see our role as facilitators of dialogue, creating spaces where artists can challenge dominant perspectives and where audiences are invited to engage with diverse ways of seeing, thinking and being. Whether through exhibitions, artist residencies, or education and outreach, SAM remains committed to championing practices that reflect the richness and complexity of our region, with particular attention to voices that have too often been overlooked, including those of Asian women artists.

For more information about the exhibition and other exhibitions at SAM, please visit their site here