If the urban arts scene needs me, I will be there to help: Dominic Khoo

From urban arts advocate to watch aficionado, Dominic Khoo wants you to show him the money, and he will give you the time of day -- literally.

Bespectacled and clean-shaven, he has a mellow, almost zen-like air about him. He peppers the conversation with several jokes along the way, to keep you laughing, and at ease perhaps. There is little doubt he is a natural at sharing his world of varied interests and passions, where he is clearly at home himself.

Drawing you into his world, then, is what he does best it would seem. And what that world is exactly, well, you would have to check in with him at the current moment. Khoo is almost chameleon-esque in terms of how quickly he assimilates with his ever-increasing cadre of passions. From photographer to gallerist with a focus on the urban arts – and now back to where it all began for him, as a horologist – he is adept at taking on the mantle of the moment and fully-immersing himself in it.

Today, it is as a partner in The Watch Fund (TWF), a private-equity business that matches investment-grade timepieces with well-heeled investors. With a buy-in at USD$250,000 this is not for the faint-of-heart, nor the light-of-pocket. But if you love horology, then this may be the concept for you.

The idea is that you pay-for-play, and acquire investment timepieces that will potentially be sold for more when you are done with them. One unique selling-point is that members get to wear the watches while they wait for returns on their investments, rather than have them squirreled away in the deep recesses of a vault somewhere in Geneva. However, due diligence posits caveat emptor, so let the buyer beware of the in-built risk therein. Khoo himself candidly says investors must have a risk tolerance that couches for the speculative nature of the business structure.

“There’s no such thing as guarantee in finance, but we are 100% confident (about buying the watches back at a profit). I think, more importantly, money-making should not just be money-making; it should be fun and money-making at the same time. That’s something that is very important to me. I think that’s something I have always done.”

Keeping art close to home

Khoo has been in the news before as an urban arts advocate, and he still maintains his ties – albeit somewhat tenuously – to the scene with his gallery 28th Fevrier situated in his home, in the heart of town. He recently brought in lauded Chinese painter Yuan Ye for a showcase, whose artwork incorporates traditional Chinese symbols such as calligraphy with more Western influences such as a modern colour palette. The gallery also showcases esteemed artists such as Kongo and rising urban talent like SKL0, in its repertoire.

But while Khoo initially seemed to venture forth as a middleman between urban arts talent and those who would be able to monetise and elevate the art form by giving it a bigger platform, that seems to have ebbed away in the face of his original calling. That he knows and loves watches is clear. The former Antiquorum auction house watch expert is now helming TWF, and this seems to be the skin he is most comfortable in. The horologist says he is the only certified watch expert in Southeast Asia, and his passion and commitment to the field is clearly evident.

To the urban arts community though, he might be a little bit of an also-ran. His segue to TWF has had some question his commitment to fostering the cause of urban arts in Singapore. However, Khoo says he has not made a permanent break from the scene, and reiterates its place in his ethos, via his gallery.

“I retired from professional photography. I didn’t retire from art, I didn’t retire from watches. I just retired from shooting as a professional photographer. But the focus now is my gallery and The Watch Fund.”

Show me the money

He also says he had a specific role to play in growing the arts here, and if this is still required of him, he is happy to step back into those shoes. But Khoo also candidly addressed a controversial point: that members of the urban arts community say he is not the man to represent them, as he does not necessarily align with their ideals.

“I don’t think I would ever say I’m the face of the urban arts scene. I would say that if the urban arts scene needs me, I will be there to help. If they don’t need me, then I will just quietly step aside and see at some point what they need me to do. So, it’s as simple as that.”

As a little sigh escapes, indicating he might feel somewhat misunderstood by detractors who feel his focus is on money, Khoo elaborates:

“The grand total amount that was made by all the organisers of street dance events last year I would think is less than $25,000. See, if it was money-oriented, there wouldn’t be enough money in it. So, I guess there’s no way such a statement would be fair. So I really think that people need to be very realistic about what their definition of money-making is," he explains.

"On the other hand, you know, the agenda to push these things is not 100% charity. If you told everyone it is charity, then people would start donating money as if it were a charity and not expect these guys to succeed for themselves. If they are treated as if they are charity cases, then no one would really ever give them a chance as commercially-viable artists. If they all can make money doing what they love then, I say them and me, we are on the same page. Because I make money doing what I love. It’s the same mentality of do what you love, be good at it and then make money out of it," he asserts.

So what is it exactly that makes Khoo tick? Is he the guy who sets aside one passion for the next as a natural evolution to his construct, when something more timely (pun fully-intended, horologists) comes along? Or the guy who is astute enough to identify potential and strike while the iron is hot? When it comes to monetising an idea or a concept, this may be where Khoo’s true strength lies. He is the middleman, in a sense, of all things art and aspirational. But he is also the guy who brings his business acumen to the table, and unapologetically so.

If you want him to divvy up the goods on what makes a great watch or why a particular urban artist is the one to watch, he would likely have the answer for you. Whether it is a passion for arts or watches, he can articulate the intellectual and emotional rigour underscoring either, taking you on the ride with him, with ease.

Interestingly, he remains an enigma while being an open book in many respects. You walk away feeling like you have gotten insight into who he is, without really being able to wrap your head around anything concrete that you can put in a box and say “This is Dominic Khoo.” Perhaps then, that is what best describes him. He gives of himself, but keeps a certain elusive essence of who he is at heart very much at close quarters.

Not a salesman, nor a showman, Khoo is more of an everyman. He might well lift up his sleeves to show you there is nothing there – and in the same breath, hand you a watch or a piece of art that you cannot live without, while he rings up the sale and makes bank.