{"id":14662,"date":"2020-10-15T17:01:54","date_gmt":"2020-10-15T10:01:54","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/matca.vn\/?p=14662"},"modified":"2020-10-17T15:13:49","modified_gmt":"2020-10-17T08:13:49","slug":"reading-nguan-in-the-pandemic","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/matca.vn\/en\/reading-nguan-in-the-pandemic\/","title":{"rendered":"Reading Nguan In The Pandemic"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\n
<\/div>\n\n\n\n
\n

At the apex of the COVID-19 pandemic, many things felt out of place. Talks and photos of holiday destinations, once taken for granted whenever the season comes, were relegated to the what-ifs and the wishful thinking. The hustle and bustle of city life before the outbreak suddenly took on a nostalgic and at times incongruous quality. It was supplanted by images of people, while donning face masks, hurriedly traversing the urbanscape, alone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In this regard, Nguan\u2019s photographs seem more relatable than ever.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Singaporean photographer is known for portraits of urban dwellers and still-life sceneries, often imbued with a mystical pastel palette. They wrap ultra-modern cities like Los Angeles and Singapore in a lethargic air, like an extension of Sofia Coppola\u2019s vision of Tokyo in Lost In Translation<\/em>. In the pre-pandemic times, these works would have appeared uncanny; but fascinatingly, they speak volumes about what we feel now in the midst of the crisis.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n
\"\"