The border guards and customs officials examined the bricks one by one. They looked into the bucket, knocked on the planks, tapped the metal sheets; but they still could not figure it out.

Why would anyone want to transport a pile of bricks - each one wrapped in individual wrappers - instead of buying the same material on the other side of the border?

As soon as the ensemble of bricks, planks, metal sheets and (one) bucket made it across the frontier, the border guards and customs officials on the other side raised the same questions. The installation could not get through. The Venus of Bangkok was stuck at the gates.

The Venus of Bangkok actually refers to a piece of installation art that was designed by the recently-deceased Siamese artist Montien Boonma. Those who want to have a look at it should go over to the exhibition "12 Asean Artists" that is currently being held at Balai Seni Lukis down Jalan Tun Razak.

An assembly of planks, bricks and a bucket, Montien's piece defies literal description. What is does however, is manage to capture the essence of beauty in the modern city and beauty of the modern city in objective form. One look at it will tell you that the artist has managed to communicate the complex relationship between aesthetics and urban modern existence.

But the border guards (on both sides of the frontier) were not convinced - despite assurances by the show's curator Valentine Willie - and the Venus of Bangkok came close to missing the exhibition altogether.

Similar concerns to Montien's were touched upon by the other artists who are featured in the exhibition as well - which includes names like Heri Dono of Indonesia, Georgette Chen of Singapore, Latiff Mohidin of Malaysia and Elmer Bolongan of the Philippines.

The problematic entry (and subsequent exit) of the Venus in and out of Malaysia and Thailand shows just how hard it is for us to define what exactly is contemporary Asean art these days. More than three decades after the formation of Asean, we still don't have an idea of what Asean art is, and what it should look like.

Limited status

The fact that the Venus of Bangkok was stopped at the border is doubly significant - it also shows how so much of good contemporary Asean and Asian art happens to be regarded as coming from the margins and is therefore of limited status.

We remain unhappy and uncomfortable with contemporary art that reflects our immediate concerns. If the border guards were worried about the Venus , wait till the artists of the region begin to produce pieces that reflect the anxieties, paradoxes and contradictions of Asean in the post-1997 crisis era. No doubt many of those pieces will end up being detained as well.

But it is not just contemporary art that gets such a bad rap these days. Just a few kilometres down the road is another exhibition of equal importance. Hosted by Badan Warisan Malaysia and with Waveney Jenkins as curator, the exhibition entitled "The Spirit of Wood", which features the work of two hugely important contemporary Malay woodcarvers, Nik Rashiddin Nik Hussein and Norhaiza Noordin, has been plagued by its own host of gremlins and bugbears.

The "Spirit of Wood" exhibition aims to do one very simple thing: to explain the philosophical underpinnings of the traditional Malay view of wood and the place of wood in the complex cosmological framework of Malay civilisation. The exhibition features some of the most beautiful and important pieces of Malay woodcarving that are still in the country, as well as some of the work of these two contemporary carvers.

The reaction of some of the punters to this exhibition has been equally baffling to say the least. For generations, Malaysians have been educated to think of Malay woodcarving as a simple handicraft fit only for the decorations of banks and for the tourist market. The traditional understanding of wood, which bordered on a complex pseudo-science in itself, is now long gone.

So when the exhibition was finally put together and presented to the Malaysian audience, quite a number reacted by saying: "But this is just for decoration! How can woodcarving be an art?"

Apart from being a terribly condescending and insulting thing to say to any woodcarver who has spent his entire life learning his skills, such a response also flies in the face of common sense and history.

Woodcarving happens to be one of the earliest forms of art in most civilisations. Along with stonework and masonry, woodcarving has to be one of the original forms of great art in human history. It's just our fault if we are negligent when it comes to learning about our own past.

Common parallels

The tale of these two exhibitions shares common parallels in many respects. Be it the Venus of Bangkok or the Pintu Gerbang (arched doorway) of the royal palaces of Patani and Kelantan, many of us still do not know what falls into the category of art and what doesn't.

One of the major reasons why this is so in so much of contemporary Southeast Asia is that we have allowed our common understanding and appreciation of art to wither and wane away during the post-merdeka years. Rapid development fuelled by the inflow of dollars and cents have contributed to the erosion of the art-loving public and the rise of the art-buying elite instead.

The clammy hands of politics and politicians have hammered the last nail in the coffin of good taste as well, as local artists have been compelled to produce works that can only be described as propaganda - be it in the service of the ruling elite (who love buying portraits of presidents and generals bedecked with medals and ribbons) or the urban-based arriviste statist-bourgeoisie (who seem to be able to consume the same scenes of idyllic rural settings with relish).

The bottom line of it all is this: Asean art, like Asian art in general, has to be first and foremost the art of Asians themselves. Art is only true if it comes from the subject that it purports to speak of, mirror, depict or critique. Pictures of prime ministers, kings and presidents is not art. Neither are mass produced pieces of handicraft junk for the tourist market. The former are simply propaganda while the latter are cliches.

Art needs to reflect or re-present some aspect of reality as seen through the eyes of the artist. Here we can excuse the artist for her/his perspectivism which is, after all, common to all of us. But what we cannot excuse is the pretender who claims to speak the truth when she/he is really trying to find the audience with the biggest wads of cash in their wallets.

Those who wonder where all the Asean artists are need not go very far in search of them. These two exhibitions, based in KL, have brought them to us instead. The problem is that the Malaysian public (and the Asean public at large) may still find it difficult to accept their work as art. Yet art it is, warts, buckets, bricks and all.

It is up to us to open our eyes and hearts and recognise the fact that these works capture the realities of the past and present around us. Until we do, Venus will remain at the gates and Asean art will still be looking for a home.