In June, I arrived at Sung Tieu’s Berlin studio on the second floor of a gated complex in the city’s northern Wedding district. It was 34 degrees Celsius (93.2 degrees Fahrenheit), the start of a punishing European heatwave, and the vast space was flooded with sunlight from large windows overlooking a green courtyard.
The studio is divided into two rooms: one for “messy work”, with tools, wide tables and raw materials; the other is a more office-like space that doubles as a library. Tieu hesitated over which felt cooler, then settled on the office for our conversation.
By then, the German Pavilion at the 61st Venice Biennale had been open for two months, yet Tieu is still processing the reactions to her very personal contributions.
Read Full Article At Source
