Q&A

Performing the Lives’ of Women in a Riven Country: Myanmar artist Zoncy – in conversation with Andrew Stooke

Posted on 18/04/2018

Art Radar speaks with Myanmar performance artist Zoncy. Zoncy considers aspects of performing the lives’ of women in her native country.

Zoncy is an artist based in Yangon, Myanmar. Her work featured in the exhibition “Voices of Transition” at Gallery 46, London, at the end of 2017. The show focused on a group of artists emerging from Zero Art Space, a gallery and studio facility in Yangon founded by artist Aye Ko. Zoncy’s performance art and images confront the anxious status of women as Myanmar moves cautiously towards greater openness and civil society, against a background of continuing regional ethnic conflicts and violence, particularly directed against women. Performance has been a feature of the Myanmar contemporary art scene. Artist Moe Satt, who was nominated for the Hugo Boss Asia Art Award in 2015, championed performance up until 2014 through the annual Beyond Pressure Performance Art Festival. More recently in December 2017, Zero Art Space has inaugurated a new performance festival, Zero Platform.

Art Radar caught up with Zoncy in Kachin, near the China-Myanmar border.

How did you first incorporate performance in your practice?

I first encountered performance art around 2005 through magazines, when it was just beginning to emerge in Myanmar’s creative scene. At university, I was already writing poetry and acting on stage, so performance felt like a natural extension of those expressions.

In 2008, I presented my first performance at the Sunday Performance Art Workshop Series at New Zero Art Space — a 30-minute piece about my personal struggles after graduation. It was raw and emotional, but the experience was transformative. I realized I needed that space where people would sit, watch, and listen.

Later, I studied video works of artists like Aye Ko, Aung Myint, and Nyein Chan Su, and volunteered at New Zero for two years, learning directly from visiting international artists. From that point on, performance became the core of my practice — everything else, including painting and installation, felt like preparation for it.

Can you tell us about the series Unknown Women, featured in Voices of Transition?

Unknown Women is a photographic series depicting women from Myanmar’s ethnic groups—Kachin, Rakhine, Shan, Kayin, and Bamar—set in rural landscapes under opaque skies. Their faces are masked with flowers, recalling militia imagery, while they hold bamboo, pumpkins, and watermelon, dressed in traditional bright cloths.

I began Unknown Women as a performance in 2009 at the Nippon International Performance Art Festival in Tokyo. At the time, I worked as a news reporter and studied modern art. Reporting on crime, I noticed most rape cases occurred in rural areas. Observing how village women wore longyi and long sleeves for protection, while city women dressed more revealingly, I reflected on how society shapes perceptions of the female body.

In 2012, at the Beyond Pressure Performance Art Festival, I performed Unknown Woman: Yellowish Stupidity, using yellow objects and flowers to confront my own insecurity and engage the audience directly. Later, after leadership training in Southern Shan State, I began collaborating with women from diverse ethnic and religious backgrounds, including those who protected others during violent conflicts. Their courage inspired the photographic series—a tribute to women’s resilience and empathy.

In Unknown Women 03: Queens of Nature, I used flowers covering the faces to challenge the common association of women with fragility, highlighting instead their role in life, birth, and renewal. Bamboo and vegetables reference harvest rituals across Myanmar, while also pointing to women’s exploitation in political and religious contexts. As Yangon modernizes, street vendors remain overlooked—symbols of resilience and neglect.

Unknown Women 07 was inspired by the 2015 killing of two young Kachin teachers. This and other works became part of my Applied Performance Art, confronting gendered violence and reclaiming women’s strength as a transformative force.

Can you tell us about My Breathing Roots (2010) and Cowardly Feminist (2014)?

My Breathing Roots, performed at SikaGallery, Bali, honors the women in my life—from my great-grandmother to my mother. I liken them to ancient Banyan trees, whose “breathing roots” spread wide to survive. Just as these roots inhale and exhale, women carry the weight of family responsibilities while pursuing their own paths, growing strength from unseen supports.

Cowardly Feminist, performed at the Hof Biennale in Graz, begins with hesitation and shyness. I used a chair, clay, and a rope to explore how my life experience shapes my feminist perspective, rather than conforming to audience expectations. I moved deliberately, exposing vulnerability while challenging spectators’ assumptions. Audience reactions—from confusion to critique—highlighted the tension between visibility, perception, and self-expression. The work became a reflection on embracing imperfection and resisting the pressure to perform “correctly.”

What are you currently working on?

Since 2012, I have been actively engaged in Myanmar’s anti-war movement. Ethnic groups in Myanmar have long fought for democracy and self-determination, enduring nearly 70 years of armed conflict. Thousands of women and girls, particularly from ethnic communities, have suffered sexual violence at the hands of military forces. My work focuses on documenting these struggles, amplifying women’s voices, and advocating for justice amid ongoing conflict.

— Andrew Stooke is a writer and artist based in Shanghai and London. In Shanghai, he has developed creative studios and workshops that pioneer new models of Sino-foreign cooperation and understanding.