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Painting The Only Way She Knows How: The Unique Artistry of Self Taught Artist Slyvia Lee Goh (2015)

SYLVIA LEE GOH Then and Now: The Enduring Heart

Published by Balai Seni Negara (NAG)

 

“If you hear a voice within you say 'you cannot paint,' 

then by all means paint, and that voice will be silenced”

Vincent Van Gogh (1853-1890

 

The interests in the works by self-taught, naive or outsider artists in general are mainly due to their perceived idiosyncratic approaches which differ markedly from the academically trained and the conventionally inclined. These unschooled artists may aspire for recognition and success like most trained artists. However, unlike the latter they are not too receptive to have their artistry judged or restrained by standards which runs counter to their temperament and personality. Their works are dictated mostly by instincts and intuition. They believed unswervingly in their own artistic ingenuity and the uniqueness of their visions while stubbornly refuses to sheepishly observe aesthetic formalities shackled to traditions, the current or the popular.

In Malaysia, there are many painters who in actuality, are unimaginative and dull imitators specialising in various current styles and popular approaches gleaned from the internet, books, magazines or other secondary printed sources. There are also many who continue to pay homage to their mentors or teachers by painting in the style they were tutored while unquestioningly internalize their rigid sets of outlook on art. Of course, those possessing a more adventurous spirit will inevitably in time, break free to forge an identity they can proudly claim as their own.

In the case of veteran self taught painter Sylvia Lee Goh, whose only claim to ever having a real life mentor or a hero she could emulate was the late Georgette Chen (1906-1993) whom she met only once sometime in the last years of her life. Sylvia’s main influences were mostly the Impressionists and Post-Impressionists whose irreverent spirit towards academic painting and their championing a personal way of perceiving reality was partly brought about by the invention of photography which effectively replace the visual arts in capturing and documenting the world around us at greater speed and higher fidelity.

Sylvia, whose earliest exposure to art were the paintings of religious icons by Renaissance masters, would eventually embrace the sense of freedom which the Impressionists and Post-Impressionists brought to Western art against hundreds of years of representational art taught to rendered in the realistic approach. 

Without the burden of art training, rigid guidance of mentors or the fickle palettes of patrons, Sylvia was free to paint the only way she knew how, from the heart.

And with her heart on her Nyonya kebaya sleeve, Sylvia lets loose her brushes on a handful of subject matters she would lovingly revisit again and again. Her still life, figures and landscapes are imbued with the autobiographical and more. Her oil and acrylic paintings are tapestries rich with private ruminations, observations and unabashed celebrations of self, friends and the natural world realized in a special visual vernacular. She remained steadfast in her quest to express herself without capitulating to the trends of the market place and unbowed by the tyrannies of standardized notions of beauty.

Even after 4 decades, Sylvia Lee Goh continues to be a unique and lone voice in an art scene increasingly inundated with issue-based and social commentary works driven by trends, riled up sentiments and the ideologically specious.

I arrange my subject as I want it, then I go ahead and paint it, like a child.

Pierre-Auguste Renoir (1841-1919)

 

Some have accused her of being oblivious to her surroundings, happily painting away her private longings and utopian visions buffered by her perceived privileged background. Others point out the pointlessness of her clinging to her fast disappearing northern Peranakan heritage which she presents mostly through her still life paintings. It must be stressed that Sylvia paints not merely out of nostalgia and pleasure, but a proud assertion of her cultural identity, one that is unique to this side of the world.

Unbeknownst to many, still life as subject matter and genre has been around for thousands of years. Since antiquity, from the Egyptians to the Greeks, still life images played a decorative function on the interiors in the homes of the well to do. However, it was the Romans, who later with their Renaissance that still life painting became a powerful vehicle to remind its viewers of the transient nature of life while subtly alluding to the Almighty who is eternal and to whom we are answerable for our doings and undoing while on this mortal plane.

In the hands of Sylvia Lee Goh, this age-old genre was transformed into a personal coat of arms of sorts. The bouquet of beautiful flowers in full bloom from her garden represents the zest for life and its pleasures (flowers are after all, a plant’s ‘genitalia’), while the exquisite Peranakan porcelains are cultural objects of high refinement, products of a civilization that has span a few thousand years. The variety of multi coloured Nyonya kuih is a testament of the inclusiveness of the Peranakans who inventively incorporated elements from two distinct cultures leading to such delectable results. These objects are usually found tastefully placed together with a selection of her favourite local fruits. This simple but nourishing produce represents the abundance provided by the motherland that is there for all to partake and share. In her paintings, these are arranged in a symmetrical fashion akin to the colourful offerings placed on traditional Chinese altars which its adherents set up to honour ancestors, heroes and saints.

This so-called coat of arms, an imaginary insignia for the ‘House of Lee’, represents a house that has deep roots traceable a few hundred years into the past of this country’s modern history. This house was built by the heads of family who had a hand in shaping the events and history of this country either through the commercial and political arena or as loyal servants in the royal courts of the day. This insignia represents the middle path that embraces and celebrates the pluralistic foundations which is the backbone of success of this modern nation.    

It is this insignia that Sylvia brandishes as her flag with which she silently rallies against the growing chauvinism and intolerance perpetrated by the audacious and blinkered who believe in their own cultural exclusivity and moral superiority. This insignia is also a shield against the growing forces of unreason eagerly encouraged by political opportunists who, for political expediency, hopes to tipped the status quo in their favour by promoting the idea of a fascistic form of governance with religious undertones that will, contrary to reality, magically solve all human problems on earth and guarantees its obedient adherents a place in paradise.         

To this writer at least, with her still life paintings, Sylvia has in her own inimitable way, made the personal, political.

 ‘Painting is easy when you don't know how, but very difficult when you do’

Edgar Degas (1834-1917)

 

Perhaps it is a blessing that Sylvia came to art making at a later stage in her life. By her 30s, she was a full time house wife with two young sons and a husband with an important position in the civil service. However, Sylvia was ill suited to a life of routine and contentment. True to her name, ‘Sylvia’ which means ‘from the forest’ in Latin and English, the ‘feral’ side of her inner self, suppressed and lain dormant for so long, now demands an outlet to express itself. Though she had started with copper tooling as a hobby, Sylvia switched to painting in oil sporadically in the late 1970s. After much consideration, Sylvia began to paint seriously in the 1980s and a decade later had her first solo exhibition...at the National Art Gallery! The exhibition also travelled to her home state of Penang, hosted by the Penang State Art Gallery. An unprecedented event by a simple house wife hitherto had yet to be repeated by other local reputable artists of gargantuan proportions. 

Sylvia expressed that her initial foray into the visual arts, via membership in the Art and Crafts Guild was driven by the need to reclaim a sense of self worth and purpose in life. Sylvia felt that, by dabbling in a creative pursuit, she might be gratified by a sense of achievement which may elude her had she remained subservient to the role of a house bound spouse. Her lack of technical training and academically guided sophistry however works to her advantage, aptly exposing the earnestness of her efforts and the forthrightness of her thoughts and feelings. Since they are paintings of things personal and matters close to the heart, no amount of technical wizardry or clever play of composition is required to enhance its simple heartfelt messages and observations. Marc Chagall (1887-1985) a favourite painter admired for his romantic imagination says it best ‘If I create from the heart, nearly everything works; if from the head, almost nothing.

Pierre Bonnard (1867-1947)

 

Nature is usually the backdrop for the tense dramas and playful moments in Sylvia’s works. The women in her paintings can be classed into two groups, the matron and ladies of leisure in their figure hugging kebayas and the simple and sensual looking young adults clad in sarongs. Noticed how nature plays the role of a visual metaphor for the states of mind or emotions of the two female figures in the series of paintings entitled ‘Sister Act’. In contrast, the women in sarongs are usually depicted as part of nature, innocent, unbounded and engaged in playful pursuits. Though she celebrates women in her paintings, Sylvia’s women characters are manifestations of the painter’s self, opposites in complementarity that serves to illustrate on one hand, the need to grow and mature gracefully befitting one’s experienced outlook leading to acceptance and closure while on the other hand, to always remain optimistic, never become ‘old’ and cynical.    

Sylvia paints at the front porch of her house, surrounded by her garden; her private little paradise amidst the concrete jungle in the heart of the city. Her landscapes are in her own words, tributes to the Creator’s greatness that continually inspire her to guard against the loss of regard and a sense of wonderment for His creations because such loss makes our alienation from nature and the self complete, to the detriment of our souls.

 

 

‘One must follow one’s temperament. I know quite well I should be understood less and less. What does it matter if I draw away from others? For the masses I shall be a riddle, for one or two people I shall be a poet, and sooner or later whatever that is good about me will get to be acknowledged’.

Paul Gauguin (1848-1903) in letter dated 16 October 1888 to his friend and fellow painter Emile Schuffenecker

 

Even with the numerous positive reviews and accolades garnered, Sylvia the artist will continue to divide opinion among those who are unable or unwilling to see merits in her works or her efforts and those who recognize and appreciate her unique artistry.

The late Ahmad Khalid Yusof (1934-1997), who was the former president of the now defunct Malaysian Artists Association was the first to spot the diamond in the rough while viewing one of her paintings in a group exhibition and immediately offered her membership into an association that included many prominent figures of the local art scene.

One of the seminal publications on the history of modern Malaysian visual arts ever put out by the country’s National Art Gallery, the out-of-print ‘Vision and Idea: Relooking Modern Malaysian Art’, which strangely, after 2 decades since its publication, remained unavailable in the national language and in an affordable format, included her masterpiece ‘If Dreams Came True...’ (1989-1991) effectively placing her among the pioneers, innovators and giants of the Malaysian art world.   

Even the follow up of sorts to ‘Vision and Idea’, the exhibition ‘Rupa Malaysia: Meninjau Seni Lukis Moden Malaysia’ in 2001 with its exhibition catalogue (which is only available in Malay) by the late Redza Piyadsa (1939-2007) who was also the exhibition curator, included Sylvia’s painting ‘Red Bride’ (1996), thus ensuring her continued relevance as a self taught painter in the context of Malaysian modern art.

Is it justified then for us to begrudge the recognition bestowed upon her when there are other professional artists deemed more deserving? This partial view against her can be easily rectify had we look back into the history of Malaysian art to locate and position her appropriately, befitting her efforts and taking into consideration the context from which she operates.

If we were to construct a history of local self taught, naive and outsider artists beginning with Patrick Ng Kah Onn (1932-1989), Dzulkifli Buyong (1948-2004), Zulkifli Mohd Dahlan (1952-1978) and even Nik Zainal Abidin Nik Salleh (1931-1993), it leaves no doubt that Sylvia is a worthy successor to a line of unconventional, unschooled and unfettered artists who in their own  inimitable ways and truthfulness of vision, offers us an uncommon view of life with all its mundane and magnificent splendour.

This solo exhibition organized by the National Visual Arts Gallery entitled ‘SYLVIA LEE GOH: THEN AND NOW-THE ENDURING HEART’ is a timely follow up to her hugely successful inaugural solo 17 years ago. It offers a different generation of viewers and art lovers a chance to be charmed and inspired by a selection of early and latest works of a self taught painter whose simple objective in going into painting was to ‘reclaim a sense of self worth and purpose in life’. It also offers a chance for the rest of us who are well acquainted with her works to reaffirm what we already knew and love about her paintings; that she paints with affection and sincerity, but most importantly, that she paints the only way she knows how, from the heart.

© 2024 Tan Sei Hon. Some rights reserved.

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