During early 2019, I was hearing whispers about the anticipation of the opening of M+ that was designed by the carful eyes of Herzog & de Meuron and Farrells. Having studied their VitraHaus Museum to bits (that was because I was a bit sectional drawing obsessed) and also knowing that their Tai Kwun Place has become a popular tourist spot – it was exciting for me to see the new museum in flesh.
Now, four years after its opening, I’ve found myself on a bus towards West Kowloon, which unfortunately is a site that is still surrounded by a sea of construction, scaffolding and hoarding. Despite this, the travel to the museum was a straightforward one – an open atmosphere paved with grey tiles. It’s only when I walked slowly towards the walls that I immediately understood the narrative and the cultural reference tided towards the building façade. Sections of the walls near the gallery’s glass entrance is ornate with cylindrical tiles reflective of the traditional roof tiles that we no long see in modern architecture. These details are subtle but leave a powerful ambience as the sun glides across them, casting bamboo stalk silhouettes on the upper floors.
Poetics aside – M+ doesn’t try hard to be innovative as a gallery. Straightforward planning is evident. The rectangular footprint allows for simple curation of art exhibitions. Spaces offer a harmonious blend of warm and soft textures. Some rooms would allow to be enveloped in timber flooring, while some would welcome the precast panel textures to accompany their narrative. My favourite – was the focus gallery that solely invites visitors to appreciate the singular artwork displayed. Which, at that time was featuring Yang Jiechang’s Hundred Layers of Ink – Chine demain pour hier (1990). The space, almost two stories high concrete room brought me to silence and felt compelled to stay within the space for so long.
Having said, knowing M+ museum is another contribution to the creative culture of Hong Kong, the size and volume of the gallery can be prone to overwhelm many. Even those who claim to be art enthusiast – the sheer floor area covering the art gallery and amount of art sometimes crammed into designated spaces can silence the artwork’s power. After visiting Guo Pei’s beautifully curated display – my trip towards the floor above was eventually met with fatigue. Perhaps it is the concrete slabs that I was walking upon, or perhaps because of the amount of art I was seeing from one to another. There was a layer of sadness that I couldn’t give it my all in conversing with each artwork.
In amongst of it all, part of the fatigue was contributed by the vast empty space in the corridors and transitional spaces. As it was weekday, I wasn’t surprised by the emptiness of the gallery, however, the floor area of the lobby entrance was so quiet, and the palette of concrete and stone grey made the gallery space feel like an empty sea. I was also puzzling over the odd decision to interrupt the second level’s walkway with a curved staircase (that leads to a lovely rooftop garden I know) – a complete different architectural language to the building. Somehow these large spaces that understandably was designed to meet the requirements felt like a wasted opportunity or could have been given back to the gallery spaces instead.
M+ all in all is a beautiful piece of architecture. The designers knew how to work with the views, the sunlight and the cultural details – although it still begs the question of whether bigger is truly grander? But, knowing its ambitions – it needed to be big.
Just that I’m not sure if it’s spacious in the right places.
This entry was written while the cicadas were signing on Wurundjeri Country.