Cover Mid-career artists, Sean Lean (above) and Marcos Kueh (below)
Mid-career artists, Sean Lean (above) and Marcos Kueh (below)
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In this three-part series exploring quiet shifts to radical awakenings, four Malaysian artists at different stages of their careers—emerging talent Anas Afandi, mid-career voices Marcos Kueh and Sean Lean, and established name Ivan Lam—share candid reflections on success and the myths they’ve had to unlearn
They speak of an evolving relationship with their craft, revealing that beneath the public-facing work lies a deeply personal quest. It is a journey toward understanding and self-expression that transcends traditional markers of achievement.
Marcos Kueh is an award-winning textile artist from Sarawak whose practice centers on weaving as a medium for storytelling, drawing deeply from Borneo’s ancestral traditions to explore themes of identity, post-colonial narratives and globalisation. Currently based in the Netherlands, Kueh’s large-scale, symbol-rich tapestries challenge colonial perceptions and celebrate Sarawakian culture, while also addressing the complexities of modernity and the erosion of cultural identity.
His critically acclaimed works have earned international recognition, including the 2022 Ron Mandos Young Blood Award and placements in major museum collections such as Museum Voorlinden and the Stedelijk Museum Amsterdam.
Read more: 13 unique artworks by top artists: A chance to support the SPCA
Meanwhile, Sean Lean is a Malaysian artist whose work explores fragmented identity, cultural inheritance and the tension between Eastern traditions and Western influences, often through a mix of humour, introspection and industrial techniques. Drawing from personal memory and national history, his evolving practice spans painting and sculpture—frequently using materials like steel and automotive paint to interrogate race, tradition and collective memory.
Across exhibitions such as Motherland, china and COLORED, Lean creates visually layered triptychs that reflect on heritage, cultural dissonance and the elusive nature of identity.
Above Marcos Kueh (Photo: Daniel Adams)
Above Sean Lean
Marcos Kueh (Photo: Daniel Adams)
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What first drew you to your art form, and what keeps you committed to it today?
Marcos Kueh (MK): I first studied graphic design and advertising, fascinated by how design shapes behaviour—how colours influence purchases or symbols guide us in navigating the streets. I became aware of the responsibility we hold: visuals can empower or harm, like ads that shame bodies or equate happiness with luxury purchases. Much like therapy, design unpacks the subconscious. From what lines museum displays to supermarket shelves, understanding the inner workings of how and why the world is designed as it is reveals not just systems, but also ourselves. That is what is keeping me committed to my art form at the moment.
Sean Lean (SL): Painting is so ubiquitous that it’s hard to explain—It’s the first art project in school, it’s what I see the most in art books; I have not found myself near the outer limits of the medium’s capacity just yet!
See also: How local artist Red Hong Yi crafts a creative haven at home
Can you describe a defining moment in your journey so far—whether it was a breakthrough, a setback or something else that shifted your perspective?
MK: Before I tried hand weaving, I studied it from a distance as an academic. With a background in graphic design and an interest in Sarawak’s visual language, my research naturally led to the expression within indigenous craftwork. Growing up, weaving was often stereotyped as something for the underprivileged or uneducated. It was only in Europe that I found the courage to pick up a loom and discovered the sophistication of weaving. There’s something romantic about connecting with an ancient human rhythm—something books can’t fully explain, like the feel of thread tension in your hands. It shifted how I see local craft and my own culture. The integrity of the weaver exists between themselves and the fabric at hand, how the world perceives them is secondary.
SL: There wasn’t a singular “moment”, but rather a gradual shift of attitude. My works evolved from ‘how I want to be thought of as an artist’, to ‘how best a work can function as I intended it to be’.
Kueh’s textile art on display at the Monnaie de Paris in 2024
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How do you measure success at this stage in your career, and has that definition changed over time?
MK: Being able to share good news with my family and friends is a success for me, no matter in my career or personal life. Our world is constantly filled with bad news that to be able to celebrate small victories amidst despair is always nice.
SL: Success is having a good day at the studio. I don’t equate metrics of success with goals or dreams. I am still as ambitious as I was starting out, but I’ve never stopped working on refining my day-to-day practice. All my wild dreams are built on what happens within my studio.
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What’s one myth about being an artist you’d like to debunk—something people misunderstand until they’re walking a mile in your shoes?
MK: I sometimes reflect on assumptions that my career is about ‘wasting taxpayer funds’ or ‘laundering money for billionaires.’ Few professions allow space to explore the more spiritual and emotional sides of being human. Through my art, I address post-colonial thinking—not just academically, like many of my European peers—but by making visible the emotional experience of navigating life beyond colonisation. Historical awareness is crucial, but I also believe in pushing for an emotionally progressive future.
SL: In general I’d say there are no rules [to being an artist]. There isn’t just one or even hundreds of ways to make art, but infinite possibilities.
Oracles (Matthew Ricci, 1583-1610 ) by Sean Lean
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What advice would you give to someone just starting out—and what’s a piece of advice you still hold on to yourself?
MK: At the heart of my practice is a personal desire to figure myself out. That others resonate with this feels incidental—I just enjoy sharing my thoughts. What the public finds compelling is beyond our control. Always be genuine in what you share, but don’t take it personally if attention shifts. The weaver’s integrity is not measured by applause, but by the dialogue between themselves and the thread. Perception comes and goes—what matters is the fabric being formed.
SL: Don’t spend all your focus on the quality of your works. Instead, give that focus to the quality of your practice.
Credits
Images: Courtesy of respective artists and Wei-Ling Gallery
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