The crafting cultures of IOTA24

For Jacky Cheng, culture and craft have always been inextricably woven. Born in Malaysia with Chinese heritage, Cheng spent a lot of time with her Taoist grandmother. “My grandmother brought China with her,” she says. “She was really particular about rituals, so I grew up practising her rituals. And one of the things I observed was her use of the moon block.”

Moon blocks, or jiaobei, are a divination tool used to seek guidance and make decisions. “It’s made out of wood today, but back in the day it was made out of anything with both a flat and curved surface, like a tortoiseshell or a clam. The ones I grew up with were made out of wood carved into a crescent shape.” The block is purified with incense, then asked a question before being tossed in the air and falling to the ground, the answer laid out before you. Cheng, whose practice involves crafting intricately detailed works from paper, has created her own moon blocks using a material with cultural relevance—joss paper.

“I grew up folding joss papers,” she says. “As a kid, I would watch my grandmother fold hundreds of them, put them in a garbage bag and take them to the temple to pay respects.” Joss papers are burned in acts of ancestral worship, a totem of the afterlife. Using them for moon blocks is almost a clash of signifiers within Taoist culture: “You don’t play with stuff that is meant for the dead,” Cheng says. But interpolating different cultural elements was very much the point: “I’m challenging these traditional practices by taking the joss paper and turning it into a moon block, a tool for divination. I strip it apart, weave it back again, and present it like a lucky charm.”

Jacky Cheng, studio, Broome. Photograph: Michael Jalaru Torres.

Cheng’s moon blocks are exhibiting in the 2024 Indian Ocean Craft Triennial, IOTA24, a major international exhibition based in Perth, which celebrates contemporary craft and explores its cultural roots. It presents works by over 30 artists from Indian Ocean region countries, as well as over 200 craft artists all exhibiting across 40 art spaces in metro and regional Western Australia.

Among them are Madoda Fani’s smoke-fired ceramics, Jillian Green’s woven donkey rugs, Anne Samat’s adorned installations, and Vipoo Srivilasa’s porcelain sculptures exuding positivity. There is also a strong cohort of artists from Indonesia, representing its burgeoning contemporary craft scene.

“Craft is a kind of universal language, it communicates on many levels—identity, culture, status, progress, all sorts of different things.”

This is only the second iteration of IOTA—the first took place in 2021 within a very different climate. “In 2021 our borders were closed,” says Carola Akindele-Obe, co-curator and festival director of IOTA. “We had a strong cohort of local artists, which was great, but our audience were those who were trapped within our borders.” This time artists are able to exhibit more widely, and to a larger audience.

“That’s a major highlight for me, because one of our missions is the development of connections and relationships. For artists and organisations to connect with one another, and for the general public to learn about the stories of our Indian Ocean neighbours, as well as our local people and First Nations people.”

Wossy Davey & Ashley Hunter, paddle carving, Ingarlgalandij Art & Culture. Photograph: Michael Jalaru Torres.

Cheng remembers attending IOTA21 as a visitor: “It blew my mind. I wanted to be part of it. I think for the first time, I actually saw my own mob. People and practitioners who would really get into the nitty gritty of the skill and material. Not that painters don’t, but it’s a different medium that speaks a different language. You have to get deep into the idea of not only how it’s made, but why it’s made.”

For Cheng, the ‘why’ lies in the day to day building of a project, the ritualistic practice of making something from hand. “The idea of craft is very much about the output, but I’m more interested in the process,” she says. “By the time I’ve finished a work, I can walk away, I don’t want to see it anymore. I have a drive and yearning for the process. It’s so much more than the final outcome.”

Significantly, much of the ritualistic aspects of Taoism were lost to Cheng’s parents’ generation, who had to prioritise work over religion. Cheng’s work is an attempt to reclaim these practices and processes. “Through the act of doing and making, I’m finding out certain things about myself, my family, and my history, and connecting it back to a community.”

Jacky Cheng, Heaven, Earth and Underworld (installation view), 2024. Joss papers, horse hair, silver gold metal leaves, copper wire, gold wire, gold Cricula silk cocoons. 85cm x 40cm x 3.5cm. Photo: Ezra Alcantra. Courtesy IOTA.

Processes are often taught; craft is derived from cultural practices, skills and techniques passed down through generations. This is reflected in the theme of IOTA24: Codes in Parallel. “Craft is a kind of universal language, it communicates on many levels—identity, culture, status, progress, all sorts of different things,” says Akindele-Obe. “When we sit down together, we don’t necessarily share the same verbal language, but we can communicate with our hands when we craft something. There’s a multi-layered language embedded in craft.”

IOTA24: The Indian Ocean Craft Triennial
Fremantle Arts Centre
John Curtin Gallery
Holmes à Court Gallery
Bunbury Regional Art Gallery
Wireless Hill Museum
Rockingham Arts Centre
Curtin DBE
On now—October

Feature Words by Sally Gearon