Azri Alwi draws inspiration from the tension between Singapore’s hyper-urban environment and memories of thriving reefs and starry nights. He completed his BFA with first class honours from LASALLE College of the Arts after dropping out of NUS’ direct MA architecture program. Blending philosophies from Malay art, Chinese landscape painting and Impressionism, his practice discusses art as contemplation of nature.
"Winds Before the Rain is a series of works that emerged from my contemplation of signs preceding events of cleansing, replenishment and fresh beginnings. In nature, the wind that precedes rain is an invisible force, seen and felt by its effect on more tangible entities — leaves, clouds and trees — ultimately crescendo-ing in a great wash from the sky. What other ‘winds’ do we experience in our inner lives, and what other forms does ‘rain’ take?"
Where you can see where the sky meets sea – includes the following poem engraved on the acrylic mount:
A meeting place, this unbroken line
Where sky and sea embrace
With whispered voices intertwined
Echoing in time and space
A tree climbs forth to taste sunshine
And toils unseen beneath the ground
Then rain descends, like a lifeline
Here too are horizons found
Should sight roam far from this shoreline
Its limits we’d see clear
And in reflections might we find
The horizon that sits right here?
Yet to screens and cities the limbs resign
And focus spreads so thin it scatters
In this mad rush who has the time
To learn how feeling small matters?
Where you can see where the sky meets sea (alt. version) – includes the following poem engraved on the acrylic mount:
A meeting place, this line unbroken
Where sky and sea embrace
A whisper, breathing words unspoken
Echoing through time and space
The tree stands tall in thirst for light
And toils unseen beneath the ground
Then rain descends and brings respite
Here too are horizons found
When sight roams far just to behold
Its limits we see clear
The breath that moves and shakes the soul
The horizon that dwells right here
Yet to screens and cities the limbs resign
Attention spread so thin it scatters
In this mad rush who has the time
To learn how feeling small matters?
