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Bubbles, IV by Lu Lei (2026)

On the Edge of Appearance

written by Anggi Pande

It’s an uncharacteristically sunny day in London when curator Charmaine Wah performs the opening rituals at Outhouse Gallery. Opening its doors to let the light in, unfolding benches for the birds, setting her catalogues on the desk. For a former park bathroom, the venue has windows everywhere with ceilings high enough to accommodate the works of six multimedia artists across Southeast Asia. In this little corner of London, England, I walk in and we stand shoulder to shoulder.

Charmaine puts collaboration and the importance of human contact at the forefront of this show. This sentiment sits folded in her front pocket, closer to her heart. It echoes in the creative writing workshop outside, hosted by Black and British collective decoded roots where rugs overlap on soil-dusted grass. The sun burns holes on my back as I furiously jot things in my notebook. The weather is nothing compared to a sweltering heat back home, but still we huddle in the shadows cast from the nearby tree. This workshop is far from monolithic, I think as I share sentiments of a proper, correct, articulate English, spoken like code that conceals the sputtering of the mother tongue. From Singapore to Nigeria, we exchange identities, reveal pen gliding on paper, trailing thoughts on pages, winding sentences that run on streams of similarity and the ripples that travel and collide here.

left: If I Must Go, Let Me Be Armed’ by Yadanar Aung (2023)
right: untitled by Lu Lei (2025)

Looking at ‘Refrains on the Edge of Appearance’, Charmaine intended to brush away Southeast Asia’s power dynamics aside, (“It’s a little idealistic, I know” she says “But we can show what we struggled with back home here”), and hopes that, stripping each artwork of a label, we see a community’s shared oppression beyond layers of power and borders. Positioned in this venue are scrolls holding sediments of memory, language and sea salt in all its 4-metre glory; a larger than life talisman, heart-shaped to ward off the fabled evil spirits; the fragrance of glossy carnations rotting with unjust and malice; a film venturing down liminal spaces where queerness can outstretch its arms, safe from the watchful eye of Section 377A*; the aching love from a parent embroidered on fabric; how the body keeps the score with ink on paper. Signs of life and movement in a space oceans away from home, somewhere I never once imagined would be a sanctuary home. Ironic how vocal you can be on coloniser’s land and feel more connected here; ironic how outspoken voices will still be put on the fringes, despite how loud the room gets.

left: Aarti Pillai‘s scroll made of rice paper and tracing paper (2025)
right: ‘Obscured Fragrance’ by Arty Nicharee (2026)

As Charmaine welcomes wandering strangers into her show, she doesn’t feel the need to explain her identity and the meticulous story she wants to tell. Should she have to explain herself? Will they lose interest? These thoughts plague my mind. Beyond the novelty and shine of the artwork, she feels less obligated to define her heritage, of how Singapore made its way into a London bathroom stall, and instead of alienation, watched her community grow and accumulate eyes that took an interest on the mass huddled outside.

And so I leave the exhibition as the sky is dipped in gold. I rub my eyes at the blinding light, pollen in my eyelids, dust soaring through my hair. Press my feet to the ground of untried soil. Watch the ivory squirrel scuffle up the tree, wary. Lend an ear to diasporic friends, offer a firm shoulder and an arm for support in this turbulent climate.

*A law in Singapore that criminalised sex between consenting adult males. From its implementation in 1938 under British colonial rule, it was entirely repealed in 2023.

Refrains on The Edge of Appearance

curated by
Charmaine Wah

photos by
Dennis Ngan

exhibition catalogue

8 - 24 May 2026

at outhouse gallery