Through textiles, artist Marcos Kueh muses on Borneo, belonging, and breaking free

Meet Marcos Kueh, the Malaysian textile artist currently based in The Hague. Following his first solo exhibition in The Back Room KL last year, he sold his textile works at a range of SGD50,000 – SGD100,000 just last month, at the second edition of ART SG, Southeast Asia’s leading international contemporary art fair.

What first struck me, upon beholding the artist Marcos Kueh’s Kenyalang Circus, was how utterly complex it is. A maximalist wonder, Kenyalang Circus consists of eight ‘postcards’ that have been intricately woven on textiles as an answer (or rather, a much larger question) on home. In conversation with Marcos — three weeks after he sold his works at ART SG 2024 — I can’t help but ask, before anything else, Why textiles?

“Textiles are so integrated in our lives,” says the Sarawak-born, Netherlands-based artist, 28. “It’s a very incorporated medium in day-to-day life. So when you’re sitting on the sofa, you’re actually sitting on textiles. Whatever you’re wearing, textiles. In your car, on the train. It’s not like a painting where you specifically need to paint. When I look at textiles, it’s like, you have this medium driving everything in the world — including keeping you warm, making sure that your feet are clean and stuff like that, but it’s so hidden and invisible.”

The rise of ‘unconventional’ Malaysian artists (versus the more ‘conventional’ form, like drawing or painting) is not a new phenomenon. I’ve met the likes of “painter without a paintbrush” Red Hong Yi and graffiti artist Kenji Chai — both of whom also hail from Borneo — and learned the importance of the art medium used to tell a story. But Marcos’ Kenyalang Circus, in all its bright and brilliant glory, is a unique exploration of home, decolonisation, and social disruption, in that it is both unconventional while also, in a sense, ‘traditional’.

Textile weaving has long had its roots in Sarawak, but what Marcos intended with Kenyalang Circus is not to simply ‘revive’ the art form or reiterate the stories of old. Kenyalang Circus is, ultimately, a mishmash of Marcos’ cultural identities — a chaotic glimpse into his home of Sarawak as well as his sense of belonging to the Netherlands, where he uprooted himself four years ago. (I have just seen Past Lives, and am still overpowered by its intense sentiment.)

“Back when I was doing graphic design, I was already very interested in the local culture in Sarawak,” Marcos describes, on the shift in his practice. “So I invested a lot of time researching the local narratives, especially within the crafts. And I got really interested in textiles. That was my first introduction to textile art here in Sarawak.

“Then later on, when I was in the Netherlands, I became very fascinated about the idea of decolonisation,” he goes on. “I had this romantic idea that back then, before there was pen and paper or even language, the people in Borneo used to tell the stories within their textiles. So I thought it was an interesting medium to utilise, to talk about these stories I want to tell regarding decolonisation.”

Like textile art, Marcos says, decolonisation is also often ‘hidden and invisible’, going unnoticed in conversation today. “There are so many things that are outside of the liberal Western dialogue that’s keeping this whole world running, but we just can’t really see it.”

Marcos’ approach is not to preach about one or the other, but to create a sense of relatability when it comes to his work. The beauty of Kenyalang Circus (‘Hornbill Circus’ in Sarawakian Malay), after all, is how it addresses the many cultures that live within Marcos. There are traditional motifs strewn across the textiles, but there is also the word ‘RECLAMATION’ laid out in large block letters. Underneath these letters sits the kenyalang itself, but it is surrounded by various logos and ‘advertisements’ of sorts, both local and international.

“It’s about how I see myself and how the world sees, right?” Marcos says. “At first glance, my work is about selling my exotic culture. So it’s just like these giant woven posters, and it’s about Borneo. But when you look into it, that’s all these very cryptic advertisements. It’s very commercial, like I’m trying to sell myself as well. And it comes down to the question — what is my culture really about? Do I still practise my own culture for my own cause, or am I just doing this and putting on a costume because the tourists just want to see us in costumes?”

Being based in the Netherlands, Marcos has struggled with feedback on his work, especially with its medium and technique. “I used to get feedback that my works were a bit too ‘traditional’, and when I was a bit younger, I’d get very offended,” he admits with a laugh. “I’d be like, ‘What do you mean?’ But later on, I realised that maybe they’re also trying to understand what I am, or they’re trying to get into my headspace of why I’m doing things like that. And maybe I should try harder to explore that, because I’m not trying to erase the fact that I’m ‘traditional’.”

Ultimately, Marcos says, he considers his works a “good conversation starter”. He takes the public’s feedback as a lot of interest to understand his perspective, and he shoulders the responsibility to try to share what he is with them, as much as he can. What people might think of him varies wherever he goes, and that plays a large part in his identity as a whole.

“It goes back to the question of who I am in the eyes of someone else,” he explains. “And I think it can be in the middle. They can kind of coexist, and that’s just what we are. It’s just these two things being side by side with each other. And that’s also what is very interesting, going down this project about decolonisation as well. You cannot run away from one side of each, but I think what I’m doing is I’m trying my best to describe what I feel, what we are, as much as I can and that’s kind of it, without any answers. I think with contemporary art, it’s more exciting when the audience can make up their own conclusions. Because it’s more of a space for you to think.”

It’s important to note that in contrast to traditional weaving, which is what inspired Marcos’ art, his technique is a modern one: industrial weaving. (If you wear something over your head, or if you’ve sat on a sofa — well, that’s industrial weaving.) It deals with machines, and very often the ‘artiness’ of it all can get lost. But Marcos aims to make the unconventional, conventional.

“Everyone has seen industrial weaving,” he says, in the context of his modern, machine-driven art. “It’s just that it’s never seen in a gallery or a ‘fine arts’ context. So a lot of people are still very amazed by the technique. I’m hoping that slowly people get used to the medium, so that they are not only seeing my work for the technique but also slowly diving into the conceptual parts of my work. Then I can also be seen as an ‘artist’ artist, not just a ‘developer’. That’s something that I think will take time, and a lot of conversation. But I’m hoping that I’ll be in this industry for a really long time.”

Read more about Marcos Kueh’s exhibition on The Back Room KL’s official website.