Interview | Timo Cheah
Nov 22, 2024
by Yannie Gu
Timo Cheah, image courtesy of the artist.
Timo Cheah is a Canadian interdisciplinary artist of Chinese-Malaysian and Finnish descent who creates art about multiracial identity, the human condition and practicing a decolonized way of being. Becoming acquainted with the Pacific Northwest through blue collar work, yet living in Tkaronto/Toronto, they critically ponder our unique identities as visitors on Indigenous lands.
Their creative practice is inspired by artist Kazuo Nakamura’s liminal abstract expressionist works and Zdzislaw Beksiński's baroque proclivities. Moving between spaces of surrealism and abstraction, Cheah finds commonalities that bridge these two worlds. With a background in architecture technology they reflect on the flux of urban life; its interplay with adjacent and polar opposite disciplines.
Timo Cheah, Pft, oil on wood
Timo Cheah, Departure, oil on birchwood.
Q: Coming from a background in architecture design, could you tell us more about your creative journey? What has made you decide to pursue fine arts, specifically in drawing and painting?
A: I studied architecture fresh out of high school with little to no guidance on how to form a strong opinion about what to do with my life. It wasn't until I took a semester off that I had the breathing room to begin discerning this.
While becoming engrossed in philosophy and making music with my friends outside of school, much leg work was done to form the basis of where and how I would spend time. I was learning various languages such as French, Spanish and Japanese to help inform my existential endeavor; how language's shape thought.
I treaded carefully in which branches of thought I engaged in at this time because I was paranoid about being influenced by problematic ideas at such a young age. So, I spoke with many people and started to get a better idea of just how expansive philosophy is. I tirelessly questioned my professors' rhetoric in regards to their educational approach to architecture, but unfortunately a trades school was not a productive environment to conduct this. So, I audited a University of Toronto psychology class and learned from one professor, Heather Hargraves, about neurofeedback loops, and alternative approaches to therapy. This helped me come back to these philosophical inquiries with a leveler head, by which time I had become severely burnt out, so I took a two year break from philosophizing to focus on living healthy.
I studied architecture technology to bridge my understanding of art and science. Some progress was made as I worked in a ceramic studio over the summers, but I came to the conclusion that they are too divided for me to be a part of STEM in an fine arts manner. So, after a year of working in the field I switched gears to oil painting. This took up the majority of my time during the covid-19 lockdown, which was evidently no unique scenario. After a few years of this I felt my only option was to attend OCAD University and start engaging with the arts community to develop my exploration of the existential and communal aspects of life.
Timo Cheah, Ascension, mixed media on canvas
20 x 23 in, 2023
A: Toronto is a vibrant yet cold city. There is a never ending list of communities to engage in yet there is a stark sense of individualism here. Affordability is a central aspect of the Torontonian's life. This allows for the emergence of micro communities and due to its lush multicultural identity, it appears to be an incubator for niche contemporary lifestyles to thrive. The underground scene is gatekept at times, so the surface level culture of Toronto that the majority of people are exposed to, doesn't feel like a fair representation of it.
One has to spend three plus years here to even begin to process the nuance of it. Sure, it doesn't take long to notice the nuance, but to understand the local way of life takes time to appreciate. As the years go by it feels smaller as you run into friends on the street or in the subway more frequently.
It isn't until I started my BFA that I began to acquaint myself with the art scene at a tertiary level. As I have made extensive efforts to attend shows of my peers and locals, the beauty of its expansive discourse has revealed itself. Artist-run centres may be sparse, nevertheless they continue to thrive and foster a tightly knit, yet transparent, community. All one must do is have a genuine curiosity to seek them out with humble intentions.
Having lived here for almost my entire life, I come with my bias. Nonetheless, Toronto is a city containing communities I am proud to be a part of, and welcome others to experience for themselves.
Timo Cheah, Bug, oil on canvas
36 x 48 in, 2023-2024
Q: You’ve mentioned that your practice examines the flux of urban life and is particularly inspired by the dystopian, baroque-style imagery in Polish artist Zdzislaw Beksiński's paintings, is there any symbolic meaning behind your choice of dark color palette?
A: Ever since I started oil painting the darker patches of chroma I come across seem to intrigue me far more than the lights. A nod to my existential leanings perhaps. I find solace in the act of welcoming the less decorated parts of life; a mode which brings much opportunity to test one's courage. I see and attempt to apply a set of ethics through this lens.
Through experience and hardship, incessant invitations present themselves to surprise one’s capacity for love, understanding and courage. All of which have become synonymous in my life overtime. This development of values pays its dues to the unique structure of Toronto life. Being exposed to a global epicentre has informed my cynical, yet positive demeanor, which has perhaps brought me to the dark thematics of Beksinski's work.
Timo Cheah, OccupiedMixed media on wood panel, 24x36 in, 2023
Timo Cheah, Contemporary Stickman
Oil on panel, 2x4 in, 2023
Q: From Occupied, Contemporary Stickman, to Untitled, you’ve applied more nuance and abstraction in the latest body of work. The paintings are quiet and bold at the same time. Could you tell us about your thought process behind them?
A: In earlier works I was hung up on technical ability and validating my proficiency in the oil medium. As I went deeper conceptually, the idea of painting in a forceful manner that extended beyond arm's length of my subconscious felt inauthentic to my wellbeing. Occupied was a leap for me as I was still immersed in technique, but a language was starting to pour out. Contemporary Stickman was a topical reflection on a dream I had as an attempt to revisit earlier gestural and automatist expressions of the 20th century. It is here where I cemented a clear direction for my future palette.
In my two Untitled works, this basis acted upon itself. I was no longer caught up in performance. My sole intentions were to share sincerity. My current body of work hopes to recognize these subtleties and unpack their deeper meanings.
“As feeble as this may sound, I have had the opportunity to be close to these lands for long enough to feel the heartbreak in the tree rings and mycelium beneath us.”
Q: Discussions on the indigenous land, decolonization is a significant and inevitable topic in the Canadian art community. You have also told me about your tree-planting experience in British Columbia – How has that impacted your thinking, and ultimately your creative process?
A: It has left the most pivotal impact on my life, so it has done the same for what I create. Its one thing to learn about Indigenous lands and peoples through words and images. Quite another to feel and breathe these lands down to your bones. Although the logging industry does severe damage in perpetuating the cultivation and clear cutting of homogenous forests that attract invasive insects (which can single handedly infect all of the trees planted), there is significant wisdom that one's body and soul acquire from tree planting. One learns persistence in coming together to plant good trees with as much diversity as the contract allows and fight regulations from within. As feeble as this may sound, I have had the opportunity to be close to these lands for long enough to feel the heartbreak in the tree rings and mycelium beneath us. A heart wrenching feeling that will continue to reverberate within me for the rest of my life.
Travelling between camps, I have passed through towns, rivers and landmarks that I have previously learned about through severely traumatic tellings of Indigenous peoples' experiences. When transmitting this awareness to others I must be sensitive to the fact that no amount of empathy will extend me the right to make art about what this all entails. That being said, this sensitivity is precisely what I believe is vital in developing a moral compass that prompts acts of genuine kinship. An aspect I am constantly learning how to carry into my practice in a sound way.
To stipulate, I see the only path to relating this experience to my practice is through kinship. A methodology which I am learning through my friends, authors such as Leanne Betasamosake Simpson and Waubgeshig Rice, and community based artists like Alanis Obomsawin.
Timo Cheah, Tug, yarn, wheel cover, theraband handle20 x 23 in, 2023
Q: What is the next project or idea that you want to experiment more of in this year?
A: This year I will be focused on exploring my roots and engaging with the community at OCAD. Getting to know people within the Shoes off Collective has been a great experience and I would like to deepen those connections to help accommodate this experience for other community members. This return to a sense of social comfort has been a long journey for us all in recent years I presume, and I wish to do my best in making this more approachable for others.
I would like to further apply my direct experiences and relation to nature, to my understanding of kinship; looking for direction from the ancestral traditions of Indigenous people.
Image courtesy of the artist
A: Well, it's a long list, but I can narrow it down to a few I suppose. Although I have just read the introduction part of Becoming Human: Matter and Meaning in an Antiblack World by Zakiyyah Iman Jackson, it is a body of text I think everyone can benefit from reading. It was published in 2020 and goes deep into black critical theory, posthumanism and pulls from the insights of Frantz Fanon, Audre Lorde, Fred Moten, Jacques Derrida, and Achille Mbembe; all of whom I am currently reading. It also includes images of Wangeshi Mutu's work, who is a prominent figure in contemporary art surrounding these topics.
I have been engrossed in relating these texts to my readings that focus on 'the Image' and what it connotes; Hito Steyerl's The Wretched of the Screen from eflux journal, Elizabeth Grosz's Chaos, Territory, Art, and Simulacra and Simulation by Jean Baudrillard.
To 'lighten things up' per say, I am reading Just Kids by Patti Smith.
Moon of the Turning Leaves by Waubgeshig Rice and Islands of Decolonial Love by Leanne Betasamosake Simpson, are beautifully written and emotional telling's of some Indigenous peoples' experiences in the province known as Ontario, Canada. I am currently in a book club where we are reading Rice's Moon of the Crusted Snow and am independently starting Simpson's Dancing on Our Turtle's Back.
Finally, I would like to address the Fall 2023 exhibition The Children Have to Hear Another Story: Alanis Obomsawin held by Art Museum at University of Toronto. Obomsawin is a Abenaki American-Canadian filmmaker who has made a significant impact as an activist. I had the honour of being in the space while her CBC interview was being conducted and was able to spend a few hours there; despite this barely covering the surface of how immense the exhibit was.