Jimmy Ong (b.1964)
Grandmother Vegetables 1988
Charcoal on paper
59 X 46 cm
In the trajectory of Singaporean contemporary art, Jimmy Ong (b. 1964) stands as a master of the visceral. While he is globally recognized for massive, provocative charcoal murals that deconstruct colonial narratives and gender identity, his early works offer an intimate, psychological entry point into his practice. His 1988 sketch, titled "Grandmother Vegetable", is not merely a domestic study; it is a profound meditation on labor, silence, and the complex gravity of his relationship with his grandmother. Dating from December 1988, this work was born during a transformative homecoming. After studying at the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts and the Art Students League of New York, Ong returned to Singapore and established a studio in his grandmother's home a Chinatown shophouse. This period (roughly 1985–1992) is now academically categorized as the era of the Chinatown Suite—a collection of over 120 sketches and drawings that were largely "forgotten" in his grandmother’s house until they were rediscovered and donated to the NUS Museum in 2011. His grandmother’s home served as both his residence and his first professional studio. This forced an intense, daily intimacy. While Ong was a young artist grappling with his identity and Western art training, his grandmother was the embodiment of a traditional, unyielding "Old Singapore." Ong has noted in interviews that his grandmother was a seamstress who achieved economic independence while his grandfather was stranded in Java. This history of female self-reliance and labor is etched into the "heaviness" of the figures he draws. In this sketch, the focus on her hands and back reflects this lifetime of manual toil.
1988 was the year Ong held his landmark solo exhibition at the National Museum Gallery, announcing his arrival as a major voice in the Singapore art scene. "Grandmother Vegetable" is the quintessential Chinatown Suite work. It represents the moment Jimmy Ong’s formal American training collided with the grit and gravity of his grandmother’s kitchen. She was his first and most important "landscape"—a human landscape of labor, resilience, and silent tradition.