One would imagine that a country that is a centre for high-end disk-drive manufacturing, where about 40 percent of households have personal computers, and where high-bandwidth internet access is available throughout the island, that its artists would be similarly high-tech. It is a great irony then that in Singapore, only a handful of artists have incorporated technology into their works.

Only one name comes up consistently�Matthew Ngui�who is known for works which incorporate technology, in this case, mainly video, which is hardly cutting-edge by technological standards. The rest�young and old�work in traditional media.

There are a number of possible explanations for this phenomenon. Part of the blame certainly lies with the education system, which does not teach the possibilities of joining art and technology. Budding artists go to art school and are not exposed to the possibility of incorporating technology into their work and end up being painters and sculptors. But blaming the education system alone is a cop-out. Technology is everywhere in Singapore and artists here are immersed in it.

Artists here have televisions, VCRs, cellular phones and pagers. Many artists have personal computers and email accounts. They can use the PC as a tool for documenting their works, for writing grants, and for keeping in touch with friends. But oddly enough, they cannot use it for their work. And they surely cannot be so technophobic that they do not know how to use a video camera. If the TV show 'America's Funniest Home Videos� is any indication, it does not require much intelligence to use one. Yet there is a severe shortage of artists using modern (and in the case of video, not-so-modern) technology in their works.

Perhaps because technology in Singapore is so pervasive, so entrenched in daily life that artists here do not notice it. When there is no disjuncture, when there is no discomfort, when something becomes woven into the fabric of daily life, then there is nothing to say about it. It is part of the air we breathe, the water we drink. Something we take for granted. This is possible, but unlikely.

Over the past few years, a technological shift has occurred in Singapore and indeed the world. I refer to the internet, a global network of computers which has revolutionized communications. Suddenly, it is possible to have cheap, instantaneous communications via email. Suddenly, with the appearance of the World Wide Web, everyone can be a publisher. And yet, what have artists in Singapore done? Precious little. There seems to be very little response to the revolution taking place in front of their very noses.

Perhaps only Ray Langenbach (who also works with video, and is therefore presumably more attuned to technology) has even attempted to understand the internet, the Web and its hyperlinks as a medium. (See his Web page) for an example of how to subvert meaning through hypertext). As for the rest, even coming up with their own simple Web page seems to be beyond them if the paucity of such sites is any indication. This is a great shame because if nothing else, a Web page is an excellent way of promoting their works.

The tepid response the internet has generated among the imagination of artists is a clear sign of the failure of the artistic imagination here in Singapore, a country that prides itself on being a modern metropolis, wired to the world. Artists here are comfortable doing what they have always been doing. They have complacently carved out a nice little niche for themselves, and there is no pressure to do anything 'different'. There is no desire to confront, explore, understand and exploit the new media.

The tragedy is that technology, embraced by this country's leadership, is by no means an unqualified good. Automation replaces jobs. Cameras are used for surveillance. Databases link disparate information to create profiles. Technology can certainly be, and has been, a tool for totalitarianism. Yet artists here are oblivious to these possibilities.

It is because technology is so pervasive, because it touches so many lives, and because it can be used by anti-democratic forces, that artists must respond to it with a little more than bafflement.

If the role of the artist is to stand apart from society and critique it, then by this definition, Singapore artists have failed. And they have no one to blame but themselves when the technology they