Echoes of Distance

My work stems from the silence and distance of my patriarchal upbringing as a Chinese Malaysian. Photography becomes a language to confront estrangement, translating suppressed emotions and cultural contradictions into images of bodies, spaces, and light.

I am a Chinese Malaysian, born and raised in a country where multiple ethnicities, languages, and beliefs coexist, yet beneath the surface lie subtle tensions. As part of this complex cultural landscape, my own trajectory has been profoundly shaped by family traditions and the environment in which I grew up.

I come from a family deeply rooted in patriarchy, where obedience to my father’s authority was demanded from an early age. Yet such obedience did not bring closeness; instead, it created distance between us. We rarely spoke, let alone expressed love or affection. In my memory, the number of times we sat down as a family for a meal could almost be counted on one hand—certainly fewer than ten in my lifetime.

In this atmosphere, many emotions were suppressed. My family did not encourage open communication, nor the display of vulnerability. I was once told that because of a so-called astrological incompatibility, my presence was considered inharmonious to my parents, and I was sent to live with my grandmother for a time. When I finally returned at a designated age, I found myself a stranger in my own home. That sense of estrangement has never faded; it continues to ripple beneath the surface of my life.

Such an upbringing left me feeling lost, fearful of communication, and uncertain about how to express myself. Photography and art became the most vital outlets in this context.

What I capture is not merely images, but repeated attempts to speak to myself. The figures, spaces, and atmospheres in my work often embody the solitude, suppression, and longing I was unable to express in childhood. Through photography, I search for the possibility of intimacy and probe the blurred boundary between “family” and “self.” Each time I press the shutter, it is a test: can images replace the words that were never spoken? Can I reconstruct a narrative of my own in the midst of silence and repression?

As a Chinese Malaysian, my images also reflect cultural contradictions and layered identities. Religion, tradition, superstition, and modern values collide, leaving me to constantly question my sense of belonging. Photography provides me with a method to translate this struggle into visual language: the play of light and shadow, the posture of the body, the restriction or release of space—all symbolize the struggles and breakthroughs of my personal journey.

Thus, my photography is not a mere record, but a process of repair and self-healing. Through my work, I hope viewers can sense the unspoken silences and underlying tensions, and also see that even within repression and distance, there remains the possibility of seeking oneself and being reborn.