TITANIUM, AGONY AND TRANQUILITY: THE TRANSCENDENCE OF WALLACE CHAN
Where words fail, music speaks.
Hans Christian Andersen
Three decades back, Wallace Chan, plagued by a brutal headache in Tibet, heard inside his painfully suffering head an internal melody, an experience that resurfaced when curator James Putnam introduced him to Brian Eno's music. This auditory memory served as the genesis for "Transcendence," Chan's latest exhibit in Venice.
In the Chapel of Santa Maria della Pietà (Chiesa di Santa Maria della Pietà), Chan's gigantesque titanium sculptures, dangling from above, bearing expressions akin to Munch's anguish, coexisted with Eno's haunting tunes.
Despite their robust composition, the sculptures seem to succumb to the chapel's subdued atmosphere, their hollow forms resonating with a ghostly presence. This painstakingly balanced mixture of strength and void opens up to the viewers as a harmonious blend, creating a sonic landscape that transports us to the echoes of our inner selves.
To me uncertainty is more valuable than certainty because there are more possibilities hidden within uncertainties.
Wallace Chan in an interview to FAD magazine
During his formative years in To Kwa Wan district of Hong Kong, Wallace Chan frequented "Venice", a local cha chaan teng, equivalent to an American diner, which despite its misleading moniker, had nothing in common with Italian cuisine and served traditional Chinese delights.
Decades after those tasty visits, in 2021, Chan showcased his work "TITANS: A Dialogue Between Materials, Space and Time" at the Fondaco Marcello in Venice. He presented "Totem" at the same venue the following year. In 2024, Chan came with his third exhibition, "Transcendence," coinciding with the 60th Venice Biennale.
Located a short walk from Piazza San Marco at Santa Maria della Pietà, the exhibition continued Chan's exploration of titanium.
In the mysterious space of the church, a grand-scale sculpture was suspended from the sky-high ceiling, its face twisted in a raw portrayal of torment, symbolizing a frigid and tumultuous winter. The second sculpture in the series appeared to shed its chaotic façade, uncovering a serene aura that envelops the figure. As the composition progressed, the final face contorted inward, giving rise to the fourth sculpture: an intricate depiction of a blossoming flower, in a grandiose portrayal of a transformative journey and the pursuit of tranquillity.
It is also present in plants and animals, natural waters and deep-sea dredgings, and meteorites and stars.
Britannica
Chan's fascination with titanium reflects his search for something more than a sculpture limited by time and space. At first, he was attracted to this metal's lightweight yet tough nature, but he soon faced its challenges: a high melting point and resistance to bending. Still, he was intrigued by how it integrates with the human body, becoming part of it in pacemakers, implants and bone screws.
Over years, Chan perfected his technique, giving titanium a smoothness akin to marble and a soft touch that he likens to silk.
In Wallace Chan's sculptures, titanium becomes part of human transcendence and transformation.