Jing Quek, a 25-year-old photographer originally from Singapore, has a body of work that is both fun and compelling. His latest work, “SG Idols”, is a series of group portraits – Star Wars cosplayers, pedicab drivers, schoolgirls, martial artists, skaters, ping-pong players, soldiers, bikers, boxers, etc. Computerlove calls it an exercise in “examining the forming of communities, and identities by association,” which I might rephrase as “examining communities and the forming of identities by association.”

When I first glanced over the set, I thought “community by intention” (sports, cosplay), but soon realized that the “community by necessity” (soldiers, students, workers) debunked that approach. The photos are all well composed, the subjects richly lit and purposefully arranged. The more I look at them, however, the more this last point – their arrangement – struck me as unfortunate, an aesthetic liberty that diminishes the potential gravity between the portraits by homogenizing some details.

Sure, the SW cosplayers logically arrange themselves hiearchically around Vader. The beret-topped students line up in neat rows, hands clasped. Their poses make sense, and seem sincere. Unfortunately, the skaters, bare-chests slicked with sweat, chins ajar, are but one example of overreach – the fall from pose to posture. The construction workers, some reposed elbow-on-knee, others hands-on-hips, do not even have stereotype to fallback on, and come off as mannequins, more linked by hard-hat and safety-vest than by common purpose and palpable identity.

I don’t dispute Jing’s, or any artists, right to position his subjects. I just quibble with the repetitive, sometimes cliché poses in this series. In arranged photography, the pose can have the same weight that gesture does in spontaneous photography. In a work like “SG Idols”, which, by its name, folds fashion into pop-ethnography, it is a very fine line to tread.

Jing could have used a bit more restraint in “SG Idols”, but looking at his other works it becomes apparent that he tries balance flamboyance and witholding, between and often within his projects. Compare his food-prone pinups in the “OHMYGOD” series, or the kinetic intimacies of “Crossings.” In the first, all is staged and overwrought; in the second there is a greater sense of chance, and the proximity maintains a liveliness while betraying at least a minimum of staging. Jing seems to enjoy the La Chappelle hotel of artifice, but he is not seduced, and only checks in for the occasional weekend.

I’m not sure if I should find the “Engrish” quote at the bottom of his personal calling-card collage, (happiness is a warm cow), a joke or even a somewhat sincere statment of intent. Even so, “dreams of joyfully friendshipness / memories of make happy day” is so raggedly blithe that, when taken with what I’ve seen of his work, it becomes less saccharin and more toothily sucre de canne. Jing may not be all seriousness yet, but he seems to be a capable, receptive, and curious young artist. I look forward to seeing what the future holds for him.