Malaysian painter reflects on 10 years of artistic practice
By Ian Tee

Yeoh Choo Kuan in his studio at Kampung Melayu Subang, Malaysia. Photo by Puah Chin Kok.

Yeoh Choo Kuan’s paintings are unapologetically gestural. They evince the type of muscular brushwork one would associate with the Abstract Expressionists: full-bodied and visceral. Choo Kuan coined the term ‘Fleshing Abstraction’ as a way of describing the bodily qualities he hopes to evoke with paint. This relationship between the physical and the psychological is carried through in the artist’s new trajectory from 2018, when he began his ‘Streaming Mountain’ trilogy. Taking his interest in Chinese landscape painting as a starting point, Choo Kuan explores personal connections with cultural identity, the natural environment and systems of belief.

Since graduating from Dasein Academy of Art (Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia) in 2010, he has exhibited across Southeast Asia, as well as in Hong Kong, Basel and Beijing. Selected solo exhibitions include ‘Today’s Special’ (2020, Singapore), ‘Streaming Mountain’ (2019, Singapore and Kuala Lumpur) and ‘Lights In’ (2018, Bangkok). In 2016, the artist was listed in Forbes ‘30 Under 30 Asia: The Arts’.

I speak to Choo Kuan ahead of the release of ‘This is How It Is’, a monograph celebrating 10 years of artistic practice. In this conversation, he reflects on the evolution of his work and unveils a new suite of paintings.

Yeoh Choo Kuan, ‘Streaming Mountain’, 2019, exhibition view at Richard Koh Fine Art, Kuala Lumpur. Image courtesy of RKFA.

OVR view of ‘A Day and Forever’, 2020, presented at the Art Basel Hong Kong 2020 Online Viewing Room. Image courtesy of the artist and RKFA.

I would like to start the conversation by discussing ‘A Day and Forever’ (2020), a cycle of paintings you created for Art Basel Hong Kong 2020. Could you talk about how it relates to your ‘Streaming Mountain’ series (2018-19) and the work of Zhang Daqian?
This set of paintings forms the second part of my ‘Streaming Mountain’ trilogy. The foundation of this project is based on my interest in Chinese landscape painting, and how it connects with notions of worship and the metaphysical, to create new meanings that are relevant to our current context. In the first part, I explored my own relationship with the art form through childhood memories of illustrations of hell in temples and Buddhist comics. For the second part, I wanted to integrate this genre with my daily experiences and the studio environment.

With regard to Zhang Daqian, I was thinking about his final, unfinished work ‘Panorama of Mount Lu’. It is a nearly 10-metre-long handscroll, the largest work by the artist. The story goes that Zhang was admitted to the hospital from time to time as he was working on this painting. People were speculating that he could not continue the scroll but the artist kept coming back. Seeing this work, I can sense that he was struggling and fighting for his life. There are sections which are gloomy and others that are lusher, like ebbs and flows of energy. This is very different from his other signature works as they tend to have a highly developed, consistent finishing.

‘A Day and Forever’ was triggered by a sudden change in the natural environment outside my studio. In 2019, the city council decided to trim the surrounding trees and half of the landscape was cleared out. The entire mountain looked so empty and there was a ghostly vibe. It was a shock as I connected to this environment in a very personal way. However, with the passing days, I observed how nature started to heal itself and life returned to the area. It was a rebirth. I related this transformation in the landscape with Zhang’s ‘Panorama of Mount Lu’.

The aftermath of a bushfire in front of Choo Kuan’s studio.

You also cite the Taiwanese scholar Jiang Xun’s book ‘A Contemplation on Chinese Art’ (2014) as an important source.
Jiang Xun is a scholar in aesthetics and I discovered this book when I was studying at the Dasein Academy of Art. Interestingly, ‘A Contemplation on Chinese Art’ was not written in a way you might expect a historian to do it. Jiang Xun approached Chinese art history and aesthetics from a personal perspective, often taking the subject out of its original context. I enjoyed how he would infuse them with his own interpretations and intimate touches. Reading the book gave me confidence to approach this subject from my vantage point as a Malaysian Chinese.

You recently published ‘The Four Saints and Seasons’ (2020), which is a book made in collaboration with a designer and two writers. It also brings a narrative element to the final part of the ‘Streaming Mountain’ trilogy. How did you go about framing this project? And what are your thoughts about the artist book as a medium?
After discovering this triangular relationship among nature, the Chinese landscape, and religion, I was inspired to work with the idea of faith in fiction. Thus, the third part of ‘Streaming Mountain’ involves creating a fictional religion where nature is the highest divine entity. The book is a manifestation of the sacred text and visuals of this belief system. We worked on many small details from designing the logo to using gold letterpress, which reference the aesthetics of different holy books. This sense of familiarity is important so that readers may relate the book to existing religious practices. However, there is a twist which breaks away from their expectations as the literary meaning is replaced with pure artistic expression. For example, the book jacket is printed with texts mimicking the typography, graphic elements, and even the rhythmic structure of Buddhist sutra. The text is composed with Chinese characters that reference natural elements in their phonetics or pictographic script.

I am fond of the artist book as it offers an intimate kind of collecting. It is a form that allows people to own and connect with artworks in a different way. The design and materials are important in engaging with the sense of touch. Even though the book’s format mirrors the folding screens my paintings are mounted on, the idea was to make the book almost like a toy that people can play with. There is a Chinese expression “袖珍宝贝” (xiù zhēn bǎo bèi) which refers to little toys or collectibles people would keep inside their sleeves in ancient China. I want the book to be like a small treasure that plays on aspects of religion and the natural environment.

“I am fond of the artist book as it offers an intimate kind of collecting. It is a form that allows people to own and connect with artworks in a different way. ”

In a way, the paintings are just the starting point for this project. Where do you see this collaboration heading?
Creating the sacred book, text and visuals is one part of the work. Currently, my choreographer collaborator and I are coming up with a dance piece that re-interprets ritualistic movement to go with this fictional worldview. I am also working with musicians to create sounds based on the texts. I imagine the finale to be a space of worship presenting the art collection and interactive performance together, possibly even on a virtual platform.

With the advancements of NFT (non-fungible token) technology, it might be a good way to encourage people to contribute, akin to donations at places of worship. Rather than the pursuit of wealth, I hope to apply this integration of technology and art in a manner which benefits the environment in our reality. For example, I could write environmental protection goals into the NFT’s smart contract that is tied to crypto art developed from this project, to ensure that collectors would give back to the community. This is just a preliminary idea but I see the possibilities of how this technology could bring value from the virtual platform into real-life situations.

I had the chance to see your recent exhibition show ‘Today’s Special’ (2020) at RKFA Singapore. The exhibition debuted your ‘Chopping Board’ (2016-2020) series, with slashed PE boards which hung from stainless steel anal plugs attached to the wall. While they share a similar visual language with your ‘Fleshing Abstraction’ series, the use of specific objects in this set of works evoke a different relationship to the body. What prompted the shift in materials and surfaces?
‘Fleshing Abstraction’ has to do with evoking anthropomorphic qualities with paint and at that point in time, I was looking for alternative ways of speaking about the body in my practice. In this regard, I was not strictly concerned with surfaces. I see the chopping board as a repository of traces. If process-based art shows a build-up of marks and gestures, then the traces on a chopping board surface reveals a history of our consumption with the marking of desires.

I stopped the series halfway through in 2016, as I felt that my treatment of the chopping board was insufficient. The butt plug was the second element I needed to resolve the work. It is used as a hanging system to display the chopping board and I like the sadomasochistic relationship created between the two objects. The earlier set of works from 2016 consisted of oversized custom boards and lathed plugs which command a greater sense of space. The ones created in 2020 are in regular sizes and look like a wall of spanking paddles when installed together. The most interesting part of working with objects is the mental associations one makes, which can also trigger physical sensations.

Yeoh Choo Kuan, ‘03:52’, 2016, oil and lacquer on canvas with custom wooden frame, 140 x 118cm. Image courtesy of the artist and RKFA.

Are there any working patterns or habits that you follow?
I usually work on a few bodies of work simultaneously and that is my approach to artistic practice. To give an analogy, there are artists who create one series at a time and this is like western-style fine dining where food is served course by course. My mindset is more like a Chinese meal where all the dishes are placed on a turntable. You can take a portion of this and turn it around for something else. Eventually, your plate is filled with an interesting combination of flavours. This shifting is essential in my practice and it informs how I work in the studio. The technique gained from my abstract paintings will inspire how I develop the figurative works and vice versa. One source of inspiration can also be developed in relation to two aspects of my practice. An example is how Chinese hell illustrations speak to the themes of violence in my work as well as my investigation of cultural aesthetics through my Malaysian Chinese context.

“ I usually work on a few bodies of work simultaneously and that is my approach to artistic practice. To give an analogy, there are artists who create one series at a time and this is like western-style fine dining where food is served course by course. My mindset is more like a Chinese meal where all the dishes are placed on a turntable. ”

Yeoh Choo Kuan, ‘A Touching Compassion’, 2021, oil and lacquer on linen, 150 x 150cm. Image courtesy of the artist and RKFA.

Yeoh Choo Kuan, ‘Luminous Mortal’, 2021, oil and lacquer on linen, 150 x 120cm. Image courtesy of the artist and RKFA.

Speaking about moving from one body of work to the next, let’s talk about your new series of figurative paintings.
This body of work is called ‘Below Abyss and Beyond Paradise’. The title speaks to contrasting sentiments, and how our reality can be worse than hell, yet the human sensations we experience make living on earth better than in the heavens. I hope to capture this contradictory feeling in the space of my paintings.

As I said before, the technique of scratching these figures came from my abstract paintings. I begin with different tones of red before overlaying it with lacquer spray paint. The composition develops organically as I work on the painting. Therefore, it is a process that creates unexpected surprises as I cannot plan the shade of red revealed through scratching the surface. There is a nice juxtaposition between the hard edges of the figure and the misty, atmospheric background. I also like the textures produced by fallen bits of paint. The dried lacquer gives these clumps of oil paint a skin-like quality.

Even though I am only working with two elements, scratching and spraying, I do not see this as a restriction. The buildup of layers provides many options for me to play with pictorially. By adding another layer of spray paint, I can push the figures into the background and create more depth in the image. I especially enjoy choreographing theatrical interactions between solo and groups of figures, directing the body movement, rhythm and flow. It is like a stage but without the restriction imposed by gravity.

Yeoh Choo Kuan’s presentation at Art Stage 2016, Singapore. Image courtesy of RKFA.

Your earliest works are figurative and you also revisited the genre in your presentation at Art Stage Singapore 2016. How are the new works different?
The two sets of work you mentioned are more biographical, dealing with personal and familial issues. I would say ‘Below Abyss and Beyond Paradise’ has a broader outlook and comes out of more recent feelings, whether it is arising from the pandemic or conflicts in the region. One consistent aspect across these various series is how the figures tend to be floating or in choreographed postures.

In the new works, a number of gestures are borrowed from religious and mythological paintings across different cultures such as temple murals and Christian fresco paintings. For instance, the falling and piled up bodies in ‘The Grand Battement’ (2021) and ‘Luminous Mortal’ (2021) come from Chinese illustrations depicting hell. The flying figures in ‘The Icarians’ (2021) resemble the depiction of angels in heaven but without their wings. The hand in ‘A Touching Compassion’ (2021) is a reference to the hand of God in Giotto’s fresco ‘Joachim’s Sacrifice’ (1305) in the Scrovegni Chapel. For me, this body of work is also a way to create an open space for conversation about concepts of compassion, damnation, and salvation between religions. I like how the iconography can be interpreted by viewers with different backgrounds and faiths.

“For me, this body of work is also a way to create an open space for conversation about concepts of compassion, damnation, and salvation between religions.”

Book cover of ‘Yeoh Choo Kuan: This is How It Is’. Image courtesy of RKFA.

Page spread from ‘Yeoh Choo Kuan: This is How It Is’. Image courtesy of RKFA.

You have a new monograph which surveys 10 years of artistic output. I am curious about the title ‘This is How It Is’.
The title came from a painting I made in 2012. It is based on the French expression “C'est comme ça” which translates to “this is how it is”. I encountered the phrase when I was staying at a student house in Aix- en- Provence, France. The French students loved talking and giving their comments, especially over food. They might argue and smack the table, but are okay with each other after the meal. However, when they argued to a point where either side could not offer further explanation, they would end by saying “it is how it is”. The expression captures an attitude that reflects their outlook on things.

Richard and I came to this title as we were deciding on works to include in the monograph. It marks 10 years of artistic practice and charts my development from one series to the next. Looking back, I was always asked why I would make these shifts instead of sticking to something substantial. It was a question I had difficulty answering, perhaps because I was still trying to complete the circle of creation in my mind. I hope that with this book, audiences can look at my practice from a macro perspective and take the time to connect the dots. The evolution in my work came about naturally and this is how it is.