AFTER a hiatus lasting six years, my return to batik painting has been marked by a flurry of intriguing sketches.
Despite the extended absence from the craft, the passion that once drove my artistry remains as vibrant as ever.
The act of creating these recent works feels like a reunion with a long-lost creative companion, infusing my artistic endeavours with a sense of rekindled purpose and excitement.
My last batik painting was commissioned by a wealthy housewife.
It was an imaginative piece depicting her fetching water from a river using two ‘labu’ containers – traditional vessels made from the dried rind of gourds, the fleshy fruit of a climbing plant.
I portrayed her as a young woman clad in a traditional Iban sarong, tied modestly at her waist, leaving her topless as was culturally authentic.
The painting now adds vibrancy and exotic charm to her flashy bungalow near Tabuan Jaya township in Kuching. During my time in the Brunei Sultanate between 1997 and 2012, I completed a significant number of works, primarily in Kuala Belait and Bandar Seri Begawan.
Notably, I sold over 20 pieces during the APEC 2000 event. Many of those paintings, along with others sold during my 1974 solo exhibition in Sibu, are now in the hands of collectors from various countries, including the UK, the US, Canada, New Zealand, India, the Philippines, South Korea, Australia, Brunei, and Malaysia.
In my heyday during the 1970s, particularly while attending the Fine Arts Faculty at Universiti Sains Malaysia (USM) in Penang, painting was both a passion and an obsession.
My early works on canvas – using emulsion paint or oil – were heavily influenced by Post-Impressionism and Surrealism, especially during the studio exercises and assignments.
Later, however, Conceptualism took centre stage in my artistic journey, with elements of Futurism also weaving their way into my work.
This shift was largely thanks to the late Professor Redza Piyadasa, a pioneer of Conceptualism in Malaysia and my sculpture lecturer at the time.
Surrealism, specifically the works of Salvador Dalí (1904-1989), had a profound impact on me, especially when working with emulsion paints.
His pieces, such as ‘The Burning Giraffe‘ (1937), ‘La Pesca del Atun’ (1966), ‘The Galatea of the Spheres’ (1952), and ‘The Persistence of Memory’ (1931) deeply resonated with my struggles and perspectives during that period of my life. I found particular empathy with Dalí’s surreal explorations of the world, which mirrored my internal battles.
His 1944 masterpiece, ‘The Dream Caused by the Flight of a Bee’, stands out as one of his most intriguing works, rivalling his controversial ‘Soft Construction with Boiled Beans (Premonition of Civil War)’ from 1936.
Dalí’s ability to straddle the realms of surrealism and futurism cemented his legacy in the art world.
By the time I was most active in painting, Dalí was in his seventies, nearing the twilight of his life.
While his influence was significant in my oil and emulsion works, it had little impact on my batik creations.
When working on batik, my focus leaned more toward realism and visual appeal for viewers and collectors, who often gravitate towards representational art rather than abstraction.
After years of working on canvas and experimenting with oil and emulsion, I found myself making adjustments in style and technique.
Initially, I explored expressionism, surrealism and realism – styles that allowed me to experiment with the depiction of objects, subjects and emotions.
These trends were with me for a while but by the 1990s, I rediscovered that viewers often preferred realism in batik art. Batik painting is a unique colouring technique where wax is applied to enclose the patterned areas, preventing colours from bleeding into one another.
This method is traditionally used on cotton fabric with primary colours like blue, yellow and red.
When mixed, these colours create secondary tones like green, brown, and purple. I prefer working with just the primary colours, along with black and white, for a bright and striking effect.
Traditional batik-making involves creating patterns by applying wax onto a plain white cloth.
The waxed areas remain untouched by dyes, resulting in intricate designs. In batik painting, this principle is extended to depict sceneries, stories, or messages through motifs, figures, shapes, colours and brushstrokes.
What distinguishes batik painting from other art forms is its use of cloth, dyes and wax, alongside the characteristic cracked patterns.
These cracks are achieved by applying thick wax, allowing it to harden and then cracking it to create intricate lines.
A dark colour is then applied, seeping into the cracks and leaving a permanent, distinct batik identity.
I first learned batik painting in 1970 as a Form Three student under the guidance of our teacher, Stephen Teo, a renowned Sarawak batik artist.
In 1971, Joshua Jalie Linggong, another inspiring teacher – and a distant cousin – took over the Batik Club at Saratok Secondary School.
He promised us an exhibition, and he kept that promise, taking us to Kuching for a group show at the British Council Hall.
That 1971 exhibition was a turning point for many of us.
Two of us, including myself and Mulok Saban, would later become Sarawak’s first fine arts graduates from a Malaysian university.
Unfortunately, neither of us had the opportunity to share our batik expertise widely. Mulok briefly taught in a secondary school before transitioning to the State Printing Office, eventually becoming its director when it was privatized as Percetakan Nasional in the 1990s.
As for me, I was posted to a teacher training college after graduation, where I taught subjects like Philosophy and Psychology of Education. My teaching career spanned one teacher’s college, five secondary schools, two private colleges,
My teaching career spanned one teacher’s college, five secondary schools, two private colleges, FEATUR and several media organisations over nearly 45 years.
Despite this long journey, I was left with only two batik pieces, and I’ve kept them close, never sharing my batik skills with anyone.
This inability to pass on my knowledge is a regret I share with many artists.
I extend my gratitude to teachers like Stephen Teo and Joshua Jalie, who generously shared their expertise with Saratok students.
In 1974, while in Upper Six at Methodist Secondary School in Sibu, I held my first solo batik exhibition for the school’s 25th-anniversary celebrations.
The principal, Lau Tieng Sing, gave me two weeks off to create batik pieces at Teacher Augustine Hwang’s residence. I produced 20 pieces for the exhibition, which was held in two classrooms.
Assisted by two Form Four students, the show was a success, and all the pieces – priced between RM180 and RM400 – were sold.
My masterpiece was purchased by the School Board Chairman, Datuk Ting Lik Huong, for RM400.
Though I’ve yet to host another solo show, the flame of creativity still burns within me, even if age and physical limitations have taken their toll. As they say, age is just a number.
To other artists, my advice is simple: keep painting, especially works that celebrate youth and vitality.
Art has a way of keeping the spirit young.
And if you ever need inspiration, remember to admire Leonardo da Vinci’s timeless Mona Lisa.
This revision enhances the flow, correctness and cohesion of the narrative without losing the original essence of the story.
