Q1: The title “What's softest in the world rushes and runs over what's hardest in the world.” taken from Lao Tzu's Tao Te Ching, resonates with the many natural themes of the film. Do you always have an interest in Eastern Cosmology? How did the idea of including Laozi's phrases and water imagery come about?
My interest in Eastern Cosmology has grown over the last few years. I've been exploring the relationship between our world and technology, and this book had a profound impact on me. I remember reading it by a lake, which deepened its effect on me.
In Taoism and many other cultures, water represents femininity, and I wanted to explore this connection. Life and philosophy are intertwined; there’s no real separation. As we live, we’re connected to a larger cosmology. Showing this relationship was important to me, especially through water, which symbolizes how we flow through life and our connection to the natural world. Nurturing life connects us to the elements and reminds us that we’re not distinct from nature. We aren’t separate from it; we’re part of it. I hope I can apply this wisdom to my life. Hopefully, it makes me wiser.
One thing I learned from making this film is the power of presenting a message in a soft yet impactful way, especially in a political context. You can push for change in various ways, and these philosophies remind me that there’s more than one way to communicate an idea. I’d say this outlook has not only shaped the film but also my daily interactions and how I present my work to the world.
Q2: Could you elaborate on the core concepts discussed in the film?
This is the second part of a project that began with Kin, a film exploring the themes of finding safe spaces and choosing family. In the sequel, What’s Softest, I wanted to delve deeper into the concept of queer families, shifting from simply finding a family to nurturing and sustaining it. That interest in the nurturing aspect is how this project came about. The focus lies in nurturing. I aimed to connect everyday routines with broader, philosophical reflections. Parenthood and nurturing life naturally evoke ideas about existence, life, and death. This film allowed me to explore themes beyond identity, weaving in elements of the natural world and contemplating the wider meanings of care and connection.
Q3: You once described “wanting to bring together the different family stories to create a united picture of the community, showing everyone as part of one interconnected group.” How did this concept develop?
I wanted to avoid isolating specific identities and voices, so viewers would feel the film as a gathering of different narratives. Creating a communal space within the film was important to me because filmmaking, at its core, is collaborative, it unites various voices. I wanted to emphasize that sense of connection, especially when discussing community gatherings and child-rearing, as raising a child is not an isolated task but requires a supportive, collective effort.
Q4: You mentioned that working with other artists brings you closer to a shared vision of a world you collectively hope for. Could you elaborate on what this communal world looks like, both in the film and beyond?
In the film, I try to depict this idea through a picnic scene. I organized a gathering and invited all the actors, whether they were parents or not. One of my intentions was to blur the biological definition of parenthood. I wanted to emphasize that the bond between parents and children isn’t defined by blood or legal ties; with enough love and care, anyone can become an important figure in a child's life. Children are our future, and nurturing them is something we can do together, no matter which family they come from, to help them grow and share love and happiness as a community.
In Singapore, most queer families are Chinese, partly because there are few queer families overall and because certain religious restrictions can be stricter. Additionally, it's often more financially accessible for the Chinese majority. I made it a point to bring in more people from various ethnic backgrounds to construct a more inclusive queer space.
Q5: How did you build a trusting relationship with the families and have them show their softest and most vulnerable parts?
Building trust with families is really about genuine communication. I simply get to know them, ask for their consent to show certain moments, and ensure they feel comfortable. I don’t think of it as capturing particularly vulnerable moments; it’s more about everyday life. I believe it’s essential to be transparent with participants about where the film will be shown and who the audience will be, right from the start. I also make it clear to everyone I work with that they have the right to withdraw at any point. This open conversation gives them a sense of freedom and control, so they don’t feel trapped or uncertain about how their image will be used. Additionally, once I create a draft of the film, I share it with them to ensure they feel safe and comfortable with how they are portrayed. This approach helps foster trust and makes them feel secure in sharing and expressing themselves.
Ｑ6： The film is crafted in a soft, lyrical style, with poetic visuals that create the feeling of watching a narrative poem. There appear to be many metaphors throughout the film, for example, we saw a child playing with the clay or a snail.
Working with clay is a symbolic arrangement that connects to the biblical image of God shaping humans from clay, echoing the way parents mold and guide their children. I wanted to bring this idea into a physical form, where parents can teach their children to explore and shape their own world using simple materials. This activity not only reflects everyday life but also touches on deeper philosophies related to parenthood. It provides a shared experience, allowing the child to explore and understand the world in their own way.
About the snail, I believe it's important to nurture forms of life beyond humans, recognizing that, as animals ourselves, we are not uniquely special. Including other animal life allows us to experience a visceral connection to the natural world. I was particularly drawn to filming snails because their slow, vulnerable movement made them easier to capture on film and added an interesting perspective. Snails often evoke childhood memories, I remember observing their shells and gently interacting with them as a child. Snails’ vulnerability also highlights our capacity for both destruction and care. We frequently see snails crushed underfoot simply due to their slowness. Through filming, I wanted to reflect on this duality: while we have the power to harm, we also have the choice to protect and nurture.
Q7: The film features many scenes of preparing, eating, and sharing food. What message do you hope to convey through these moments?
When I include food in the scene, it’s not just about physical nourishment but also about fostering community and culture. Sharing meals is an essential way to bond, and in many Asian cultures, preparing and eating food is a way to express love. I wanted to capture that in the film. The dishes on the dining table are traditional confinement foods, chosen intentionally to reflect care for the birthing partner. These foods come from different cultures within Singapore, symbolizing the act of preparing and sharing across generations.
Ｑ8：Please explain the current state and progress of the queer family movement in Singapore.
I think there is a growing awareness and understanding of queer families now. This topic seems to be gaining attention, and comments online indicate general support, though there are, of course, some negative responses. Right now, coverage tends to be slightly left-leaning, not yet reaching the conservative mainstream. If there were a possibility of legislative change, I think we'd see more pushback from those resisting societal shifts. While progress isn’t always straightforward, the world has become more accepting over the past decade, and this trend is visible, especially in parts of Asia.
Q9: What's Softest has attended the 2024 Venice Biennale, did you receive any interesting feedback that you would like to share with us?
With nearly 300 artists showcasing, and mine placed near the end, receiving thoughtful feedback from viewers who took the time to engage meant a lot to me. One surprising feedback is, how similar the situation is for queer parents in Italy, where they also face a lack of recognition. It highlights the complexity of progress, which goes beyond regional and cultural differences. Even the notion of Western openness is more nuanced and constructed than it seems. I was also moved by the audience's emotional response to the film. Although I don’t believe the emotional impact is the sole measure of good work, it was heartening to know people felt something significant despite the event's overwhelming nature.
Q10: When did you first realize your desire to use documentary practice as means of creation, and how did you become deeply engaged with the varied topics?
The idea of documenting emerged early on. It all began with a documentary practice program at the university. The professor was a war photographer, taught in a very intense and rigorous environment, emphasizing reportage, essay writing, and documenting real-life stories. At the time, I was studying international relations, which felt very abstract and hierarchical. Documentary work offered a way to connect these broad concepts with intimate human experiences. It allowed me to understand people’s struggles first hand rather than studying politics in a detached manner.
Choosing topics that I felt personally invested in was crucial. I needed to feel ownership and a sense of responsibility over the stories I documented. I didn’t want to mimic the practices of some journalists who parachute into communities, cover trendy topics, and then abandon them once the news cycle shifts. That approach didn’t align with my values, which is why I distanced myself from the journalism world. Working as an artist has given me more freedom to dig deep into subjects that matter to me. It's essential for me to really explore the root of the topics I cover. I also felt conflicted about the power dynamics involved, especially since much of my training occurred in the U.S., where stories are often filtered through a Western media lens. For instance, I once presented a project about queer women in Singapore to a U.S. photo editor who dismissed it, saying they had recently published a similar story from another Asian country. This kind of response made me realize that I didn’t want to be constrained by what Western media deemed important. Stepping away from those structures has allowed me to create work on my own terms.
Q11: Your work has been exploring how femininity and queerness are articulated. While often delving into daily life and exploring the neglected existence in Singapore’s history and society, how do you come up with the varied topics while keeping them in your structure of creation？
My process is very intuitive and spontaneous, developing step by step without a predetermined path. I believe in having the freedom to explore what truly captivates me, which is essential when committing to a project that can take months or even years to complete. When I work, I focus on what genuinely moves me because I know I’ll be dedicating years to advocating for that idea, representing it, and protecting both the concept and the people involved. It's a mix of cause-driven passion, intellectual curiosity, and personal interest. I listen closely to this internal drive as it shapes my work.
Q12: Please introduce the collective project, Asian Feminist Studio for Art and Research (AFSAR), that started last year. What is it like collaborating with such talented artists?
The project functions both as a platform and a collective, primarily operating on Discord. It’s driven by study groups and channels where members gather around specific topics or books to learn and discuss together. We present in turns, meeting as often as we decide. This setup helps make challenging, theoretical material more accessible. In a group setting, difficult concepts become easier to tackle. This variety supports a holistic approach to world-building in art. Our Discord is full of diverse discussions that intertwine the philosophical and material, offering a vivid picture of our collective exploration. Working with these artists is truly a privilege. The experience is not just intellectually stimulating; it’s personally rewarding. And the best part is getting to call these incredible people my friends.
Right now, I’m in a group studying texts by Hong Kong philosopher Yuk Hui. We recently covered his book Art and Cosmotechnics and are now revisiting his earlier work, The Question of Technology in China. Currently, I’m also part of a group called “Asia as Principle,” which explores the concept of Asia, its origins, and its fluid nature. We discuss how the idea of Asia has evolved and delve into Asian futurism.
