A commitment to craft and painting
By Ian Tee

Midpoint is a monthly series that invites established Southeast Asian contemporary artists to take stock of their career thus far, reflect upon generational shifts and consider the advantages and challenges of working in the present day. It is part of A&M Dialogues and builds upon the popular Fresh Faces series.

Born in 1975 in Kuala Lumpur, Chang Yoong Chia’s practice focuses on narratives and socio-political topics from his home country of Malaysia. The idea of craft is a recurring theme in his body of work, through the artist’s engagement with techniques such as batik and embroidery, as well as unusual surfaces like leaves and crab shells. In 2019, Yoong Chia was recognised with a survey exhibition ‘Second Life’ at the National Art Gallery in Kuala Lumpur. His works are in the collection of the National Visual Arts Gallery, Kuala Lumpur, Gwangju Art Museum, and the Singapore Art Museum.

Chang Yoong Chia, ‘WIE GEHT'S?’, 2020, papercut, site-specific installation, Halle20, Spinnerei, Leipzig, Germany. Photo by Yadanar Win.

Chang Yoong Chia, ‘This is Where We End, This is Where We Began Again’, 2020, oil on canvas, 160 x 360cm. Image courtesy of the artist.

Looking back, could you share a decision or event that marked a significant turn/moment in your path as an artist?

I arrived in Leipzig, Germany on the first of March 2020 for what was supposed to be a three-month artist residency. A week later, all that came crumbling down as the COVID-19 outbreak became a pandemic. Back home in Malaysia, a political coup successfully overthrew the elected government, and imposed severe restriction of movements in the whole country.

I was accompanied by my wife, Ming Wah, but was otherwise quite socially distanced. We were safe and reasonably comfortable in my studio, thinking about the situation in Malaysia, about the possibility of death and whether there would be enough food and toilet paper in the supermarkets. Like everybody else, we took life one step at a time. I had the distinct feeling that an era was ending and a completely new world would emerge from this. I kept asking myself what art is in times like these, so I made a painting with partially hidden words that read “This is Where We End, This is Where We Began Again.”

After returning to Malaysia, my wife and I decided to move out of Kuala Lumpur. We did not want to carry the burden of the city on our shoulders any longer, and moved to a small town called Tangkak in the state of Johor. We decided to live uncluttered by excess and nonsense. I decided that my art would also have to be urgent, but made with patience, and full of humanity.

Visitors looking at Chang Yoong Chia’s work, ‘The World is Flat’ (2010) which was in competition for the Asia Pacific Breweries Signature Art Prize 2011. Photo taken at the exhibition of finalists at Singapore Art Museum.

A section of the survey exhibition, ‘Chang Yoong Chia: Second Life’ (2018) at National Art Gallery, Kuala Lumpur. Photo by Pam Lim.

When have been milestone achievements for you as an artist, and why have they been particularly memorable? (This could relate to goals you set out to achieve, recognition at home/abroad through a particular exhibition/publication etc.)

One memorable event was being a finalist for the Signature Art Prize 2011, in which an exhibition was held at Singapore Art Museum. It was a prestigious event and I was feeling excited to be on the same level competing against esteemed and established Asian artists. But at the same time, I also saw the humanity of these artists. I saw that they were as uncomfortable as I was being put in the spotlight. They were also trying not to be overwhelmed by the attention, and trying to constantly improve as artists.

Another milestone was my mid-career survey exhibition held at National Art Gallery, Kuala Lumpur in 2018. It featured my oeuvre from 1997 until 2018. Basically, my whole career as an artist up until that point could be seen in the exhibition. It was such an honour to be given this recognition and for people beyond the art scene to be able to see my work.

Could you walk us through a typical work day, or a typical week? What routine do you follow to nourish yourself/your artistic practice?

A typical day would start in the morning feeding leftover rice to birds that visit my house. Then, I prepare and eat breakfast with my wife. After coffee, I will go to the centre of my house, which I have converted into my studio, put on my ear plugs to listen to music or podcasts while I make my artwork. Then it’s time for lunch, watch something online, take a nap, work again, dinner, enjoy a drama series or movie, and either work a few hours or rest for the night. I also try to slip in time for answering emails and do research which usually throws off my schedule. At times, we would do excursions into Melaka or other parts of Johor. On increasingly rare occasions, I would read a novel.

For me, there is no separation between life and work. It is either I make time for living which takes time out of my work, or I make time for work and take time away from living. I think making art and appreciating art is informed by how I choose to live. So that when I take adventures both in the wanderings of my mind or real physical journeys, I am much more attuned and appreciative of the experience.

Yoong Chia’s studio, 2022. Image courtesy of the artist.

Could you describe your studio 0r workspace? How has it evolved over the years? What do you enjoy about it, and what do you wish to improve?

I like to work intensely on one type of material for a long period of time and then switch to another material. For me, working with different materials activates different skill sets, sensitivities and knowledge. With this “infidelity” to materials, I can explore different aspects of myself and question different topics I am interested in.

Therefore, the configuration of my studio changes every time I work with different materials. Also, I only concentrate on one artwork at a time. I installed wheels on everything so that tables and chairs, shelves and boxes could be moved around to create a space in service of the creation of that artwork, so that my concentration is wholly on that piece.

What has become easier or more difficult to do as time has gone by?

It becomes easier to recognise the rhythms in my creative process. From experience, I can sense when I need to push ahead and when to rest. It is also easier to recognise what I can or cannot do and therefore easier to say no to people or projects that do not suit me.

It is harder to stay sincere when making artwork. It is like a small hearth within myself that needs to be fuelled constantly with honesty, humour, courage, curiosity, fears and anxieties. It could easily be blown out of control by ambition, or smothered by apathy, fatigue or reality.

“It becomes easier to recognise the rhythms in my creative process. From experience, I can sense when I need to push ahead and when to rest. It is also easier to recognise what I can or cannot do and therefore easier to say no to people or projects that do not suit me.”

Exhibition view of ‘Allegorical Threads: Stories of Journeys from Malaysia to Australia’, at Yagan Mia Wireless Hill Museum, Perth, Australia, 2024. Image courtesy of the artist.

Yoong Chia and Ming Wah with Malaysian immigrants at his exhibition Allegorical Threads: Stories of Journeys from Malaysia to Australia, at Yagan Mia Wireless Hill Museum, Perth, Australia. Image courtesy of the artist.

Recently, you presented a series of batik paintings and sarongs in ‘Allegorical Threads - Stories of Journeys from Malaysia to Australia’ (2024) at Yagan Mia Wireless Hill, Perth, Australia. This solo exhibition is a part of the Indian Ocean Craft Triennial 2024 (IOTA24). Could you briefly describe the project and why you chose to work in the medium of batik for this project?

My interest in batik as an artist’s medium started when I was at an artist residency in Hokkaido, Japan in the winter of 2017. I was thinking of a way to bring the heat of my tropical country to snowy Japan, and decided on batik since making it requires molten wax. From then on, I have associated batik as a metaphor to explore my country.

For ‘Allegorical Threads’, Ming Wah and I researched and interviewed Malaysians who have migrated to Western Australia. We were interested about the lives of people who have physically removed themselves from Malaysia but still consider themselves Malaysian culturally. We learned about why they migrated and how their lives changed. After the interviews, we returned to Malaysia and I proceeded to tell these stories as batik sarongs and batik paintings. Because batik is the official attire of Malaysia, I wanted to expand its meaning beyond the borders of my country to use it to explore the ideas of nationality, identity and fluidity of culture.

Chang Yoong Chia, ‘Orang Belanda I,II,III’, 2010, gouache on leaves, 43.5 x 25cm, 48 x 28cm, 49.5 x 23.5cm. Image courtesy of the artist.

What do you think has been or is your purpose? How has your purpose remained steadfast or evolved over the years?

I have always wanted to be an artist. When I was a kid, it simply meant to be able to draw and paint well, sell my work and survive on that. Fundamentally, all of that still applies. But having practised for so long, it has become a way of life for me and I cannot help but be philosophical about it. I am now thinking the role of the artist is to bring forth a change in perception, and once perception has changed, so does reality. For example, looking at sunflowers now, I cannot help but see sunflowers the way Vincent van Gogh painted them. He changed our perception of sunflowers.

Chang Yoong Chia, ‘Guardian’, 2017, oil on crab carapace, 16.5 x 15.5 x 6.5cm. Image courtesy of the artist.

What do you think were the unique advantages and disadvantages you had when you were an emerging artist, and with establishing your place since then? Would you be able to comment on how you think this compares to the set of opportunities and challenges that artists have in Malaysia today?

I started exhibiting in the mid-1990s, when Malaysia was enjoying an economic boom. There was optimism about Malaysia becoming a developed country. Art galleries were emerging, and several public and private institutions were supporting art. We were all starting to use the internet, which opened up the world to us. Then came the Asian financial crisis of 1997 and support for art slowed down somewhat. However, it was also a time when some artists were involved in activism and banded together to express their political views. It was an exciting environment for me as a young artist to grow and find myself.

Now Kuala Lumpur has become so big and decentralised, and artists do not meet up as much as they used to. Galleries, which used to be meeting points for artists, are busy with art fairs. I feel artists are more focused on how they present themselves, and not spending enough time on experimenting and developing their work.

However, the internet has enabled us to acquire a great variety of skills and knowledge. We can use it to reach out to people all over the world to collaborate, or help advance one’s career and goals. It was not possible even 10 years ago.

Chang Yoong Chia, ‘Decalcomania 07 - The Malay Annals’, 2024, oil on canvas, 65 x 45cm. Image courtesy of the artist.

Are there any upcoming exhibitions or projects you wish to share?

Ming Wah and I are collaborating on a long-term project that explores the different viewpoints of mythology and science on how we perceive the natural world, in particular, the phenomena of Female Mountain Deities.

After moving to Tangkak, we can see Mount Ophir (Gunung Ledang) from our house. But sometimes, it is completely covered in the clouds as if it does not exist at all. The mountain has been recorded in ancient texts, and inspired legends. I think we attribute a special feeling to mountains. This project is inspired by this visceral feeling, and backed up with research on old texts and archival materials.

The first part of this project begins with my solo exhibition at Cult Gallery, Kuala Lumpur titled ‘Thinking like a Mountain: Inquiries into Puteri Gunung Ledang’. This series explores the legend of the Fairy Princess of Mount Ophir (Lagenda Puteri Gunung Ledang). Our research spanned across written documents and archival materials about Mount Ophir, sourcing from books such as the Malay Annals (17th Century), The Malay Archipelago (1869) by British naturalist Alfred Russel Wallace, newspapers articles from the 1930s to 1980s, as well as excursions we made to the foot of the mountain.

And finally, what would be a key piece of advice to young art practitioners? What has been a way of working, a certain kind of attitude etc. they can learn from to apply to their own careers?

Spend more time exploring who you are, find out what you want and learn to express it in your work. Allow yourself to fail and treat others how you want to be treated. Spend less time building your persona or “branding” your work. When it is good enough, your work will be able to speak for itself.

This interview has been edited.