My Umbrella, My Rain
Mixed-media installation
Aluminum foil, glasswares, green lights
132 in × 132 in × 192 in
2021
Yadanar
my umbrella, my rain.
I hate rainy days
I don’t feel pretty at all when I’m soaked wet.
It was a rainy day when I first got my driving license.
I had to run cause’ I didn’t want to get my documents wet.
It was also a rainy day when I went to see my friend.
They scolded me to death cause’ I did not bring my umbrella.
I haven’t had an umbrella for almost two rainy seasons. I’m not quite sure if I have lost it or it lost me.
I hate rainy days
I don’t feel pretty at all when I’m soaked wet.
It was a rainy day when I first got my driving license.
I had to run cause’ I didn’t want to get my documents wet.
It was also a rainy day when I went to see my friend.
They scolded me to death cause’ I did not bring my umbrella.
I haven’t had an umbrella for almost two rainy seasons. I’m not quite sure if I have lost it or it lost me.
My Umbrella, My Rain emerged from an intense process of examining herself and her relationships with the people closest to her.
The title describes the instability of these relationships. The same environment could become an umbrella that offered care and protection, or the rain from which she needed protection. The work considers how love and harm can coexist, making it difficult to separate safety from its source of pain.
Yadanar transformed the gallery into a forest like environment using aluminium foil, found glassware and green light. The glass was sourced from an old closed down glass factory in Yangon, reflecting her early interest in giving discarded objects a new role within installation. A short accompanying text connects rain with memories of vulnerability, beauty and everyday conflict. Within it, the missing umbrella becomes a form of absent protection. By constructing an immersive but fragile environment, Yadanar makes a private psychological state temporarily available to others.
Diana
“My ex got offended by this. It wasn’t even about him.”
Yadanar lived in Yangon until 2024. Yangon is a rainy city. All Yangoners will have a love-hate relationship with the rain. The rain is with us eighty percent of the year. A perpetual monsoon. All we eat, all we wear, where we go are at the mercy of the rain. The rain makes us run, makes us laugh, makes us weep, makes us wet, and sometimes makes us unpretty.
This is another one of Yadanar’s shrines. Everyone becomes unpretty in the suffocating green light of this shrine. The glasswares were collected from an abandoned glass factory that has returned to a forest.
We are never sure if Yadanar truly dislikes the rain or she simply dislikes her dependency on an umbrella.
Yadanar lived in Yangon until 2024. Yangon is a rainy city. All Yangoners will have a love-hate relationship with the rain. The rain is with us eighty percent of the year. A perpetual monsoon. All we eat, all we wear, where we go are at the mercy of the rain. The rain makes us run, makes us laugh, makes us weep, makes us wet, and sometimes makes us unpretty.
This is another one of Yadanar’s shrines. Everyone becomes unpretty in the suffocating green light of this shrine. The glasswares were collected from an abandoned glass factory that has returned to a forest.
We are never sure if Yadanar truly dislikes the rain or she simply dislikes her dependency on an umbrella.