Interview with Leah Chan. On Artistic Creation and Chinese Dietary Philosophy by Ray Zheng

中文版 - Chinese version      

We met three years later in southern China since last time, hesitating over whether to pursue a long-term career in Arts & Crafts. Perhaps when young artists are unsure about their research direction, they would try everything? We talked about the Swiss blacksmith Lars Torvaldsson, who told me that he could only pursue his beloved art long after retirement; at our age, he was still worried about making a living.


Over the past seven years, we have constantly changed living spaces, conditions and cultural contexts, engaging in eclectic experimentation. When I first met Leah, she liked to collect metal and mechanical parts and used them in fascinating ways, such as attaching a compass to a brass doorbell or mounting a magnifying glass on a lighter. Later, she began combining glass, fabrics, gemstones, and prints, as if she wanted to explore everything with highly developed senses. Whether orderly or chaotic, hard or soft, she would try them all, shattering her perception of objects and tightly adhering them together. Unlike collage or chain-link connections, she explores the incomplete parts of multiple individuals, allowing them to merge and make each other's forms more “complete”. I am curious about what led her to focus on rice and edible materials for her research, finding a sense of belonging.


Leah Chan. Avalokiteśvara, 2023. Enamel, resin, copper, 925 silver



Leah Chan graduated from Beijing Institute of Fashion Technology in 2019 with a Bachelor of Arts in Jewelry Design and University of the Arts London - London College of Fashion (UAL-LCF) in 2021 with an MA in Fashion Artefact. In 2022, she was certified as a National Assistant Crafts Artist. She studies grain crafts and creates artworks, treating everyday food and cooking methods as metaphors for thinking about relationships between individuals and others. Personal identity construction is a symbolic practice and value formation process that transcends time and space.


Leah Chan. Beyond the Rice Series, 2020. Rice



Why do you create? How would you describe your style?
I think my ideas are pretty conventional. In the beginning, the method was like you said, starting with the "eclectic and collage" of objects. However, Chinese people have obsessions, especially with food. I've tried milk, tea, you name it, but it lacked a dominant entry point, and I started asking myself what "directionality" really is.

While abroad, I observed my diet and its associated dietary memories. When my grandmother raised me, she retained the way of cooking rice from her childhood, often using just a handful of rice to make a whole pot of rice soup due to food shortages. It's different from congee, with a very low concentration and a mild flavour. We emphasise practical rationality, blending the ideal with the real, integrating thoroughly, and that’s when I realised this is what I want to focus on.

I believe the process of feeding is also important because this era has shaped our ability to blend and project. We consume what we see, use what we have, and project what we perceive. When transferred to a serious context, it is just a rethinking. Everything we have done has been done before; why do I still do it? There has been little exploration of the relationship between Eastern cuisine and art in China. We can excel in craftsmanship and taste, but few themes elevate to the spiritual significance of the material itself. I feel we are not clear about what we consume and its meaning, so I have a bit of a mission in this.




Leah Chan. Objects from Beyond the Rice Series, 2020. Rice



Your work uses food as a direct material, and you interpret it as an emotional and socio-cultural reflection of personal belonging. How is this reflected in your works?
The emotions are actually reflected in the production process, kind of like the Proustian effect. Memories recorded during our most sensory age period are indelible, with smell and taste often preceding sight. These tastes and textures transport me back to the immersive environment of ages 7-13 and my connection with my grandmother. This nostalgia provides a sense of security that allows me to continue creating. My works are actually experiences —steaming, boiling, roasting, etc. I think that is the magic of creation. If you've never cooked, you will never know how certain flavours are achieved and to what extent, which is a problem that many people are facing.


What kind of response have you received from the public on this subject matter in China?
Friends around me find the materials interesting, guessing that the works are ceramics or bread-made, which I did not anticipate. The audience is quite interested in the concept of my work, but my original intention is for everyone to touch, smell the work, and create more sensory connections. However, this is quite challenging in typical exhibition settings. Generally, I receive more encouragement as this form of creation is not common. With everyone’s expectations, I hope to provide more interesting works in the future.


Leah Chan. Object: Beyond the Rice Series, 2020. Rice



What are the challenges of using sustainable materials? How do you feel when interacting with materials? What do you think about the sustainable materials market?
First, it is a constantly changing material, unlike the stability of gold and silver, but that’s what I enjoy about it. For instance, testing color, hardness, and operation duration, There are always cracks and strange fungi, which I find quite fascinating.

There’s also the issue of audience—people who eat rice, pizza, or bread won’t have the same feelings and experiences, so it initially tells story of a small group. Other media might help target a broader audience, who may not find it pleasing and might find it quite bizarre.

In my 2022 exhibited work "Lightness of Being," I extended my creation using spoiled rice that had gone bad and attracted insects. I began to reflect on my neglect and forgetfulness of this jar of rice, including the substandard grains and feed on the market, all of which I repurposed. I think the formation of the sustainable materials market stems from our reflection on "badness," and reconstruction is its purification and liberation.


Leah Chan. Necklace: Lightness of Being, 2022. Brown rice, red rice, black rice, leather, waxed thread, plastic beads, feather, brass.



Your work has transitioned from wearable objects to crafts. How do you view this period of transition?
I think I still love jewellery; crafts are like a big thesis, while jewellery is more like poetry, more spontaneous. Crafts make me think a lot and settle down after completion, while jewellery is more of a creative habit with sudden, simple ideas, making it more fun. But my focus is still on ensuring my work interacts with the audience, being used and connected with the body in any sensory way.


You are a teacher with experience studying in various places. What differences do you find between Chinese craft and design education? Any shortcomings?
I can deeply understand them because that's how I came through. The biggest issue is that students lack a sense of security. Like I once was, they are always seeking the right answer, eager to eat and drink their fill. Especially in fashion and crafts, everyone is too obsessed with beauty. I want to cultivate their courage and ability to question, explore with emotion, and master materials and craftsmanship.


Leah Chan. Necklace: The Rice of the Promised Land, 2024. Rice, ceramic


Our contemporary art and design are slowly breaking through the phase of imitation, opening up discussions and empathy. I believe Leah's focus on food is the most ingenious and accessible of all themes, as it is something Chinese people care deeply about. Using it as an introduction to art philosophy is also very fitting. Rice crops are somewhat like a human identification card, containing information about human life and consumer society. The food crisis after the pandemic made me rethink the relationship between food and human domestication. What exactly are we eating? How does it affect our operating mechanisms, and what value does it make? Similarly, what are we using to create? What is our connection to these materials?

Leah mentioned several artists who use food as material. I think they are also very significant references for the philosophy of eating as a method of creation. Janine Antoni used chocolate and lard as sculpture materials and she directly consume them as performance, putting everything in her mouth like a baby to understand the world—both intimate and destructive. In 2020, Japanese incense maker Maki Ueda launched a perfume called Nukamiso, a highly feminine and maternal scent made from pickled rice bran, representing Japanese society’s expectations of women and maternal qualities. The audience's senses and desires are directly challenged, reflecting on how minimalism brings not just products but a shift in the production process. What we put into our mouths, apart from tasting good, also gives rise to commodity culture, waste, gender, and social issues.


Leah Chan. Necklace: The Rice of the Promised Land, 2024. Rice, ceramic



Hilary A. Smith, in Food, Health, and Nutrition in Chinese History elucidates the principle of food and medicine sharing the same origin in Chinese dietary philosophy. For instance, Li Shizhen, in his quest to discover potent medicinal herbs, was actually seeking sustenance. In this philosophical framework, food and medicine are intricately intertwined. The theory extends beyond mere physical well-being and longevity; it encompasses fostering harmony within familial and communal structures, enhancing moral cultivation, and achieving alignment between the body and its environment. Applying this theory to artistic creation is both profound and compelling.

Contemporary culture, with its multitude of choices provided, has granted us near-limitless access to knowledge and materials within the design field. Chinese artists have been seen under a global background, and thus, their cultural heritage has transformed into an essential aspect of their professional identity. During the experimental phases of making, we seek out "nourishment" within our local contexts, interpret the world and engage with issues that resonate with us. From its inception, traditional Chinese medicine has been deeply intertwined with food, with dietary therapy being one of the earliest forms of treatment. In our pursuit of “remedies”, we also experiment with diverse materials to understand their impact on us and how they forge connections, aiming to achieve harmony with nature and adapt to the specifics of our environment.

We all are addressing and resolving existential issues in both the act of consumption and the process of creation. The resolution of these problems can provide artists with a profound sense of security, allowing young artists to transcend the mere pursuit of “beauty” or “tasty”. I believe this is the significant insight that Chinese dietary philosophy imparts to artistic practice.

Our creative endeavours are inherently self-referential, often emerging from a particular need or to address a specific problem, whether that need is rooted in emotion or materiality. Aesthetics cater to one dimension of society, but the deeper discourse revolves around the relationships between individuals and the connections between people and objects. The abundance of information has undeniably complicated the task of defining research directions for young artists. However, it has also enhanced our capacity for empathy: audiences need not physically break through geographical boundaries to resonate deeply with the artist’s intent. Our comprehension of identity within a global context shares common ground. Therefore, within a specific cultural environment, artistic intervention and the dialogues it incites can serve as potent catalysts for changing communities and shaping their narratives. The audience-related concerns Leah mentioned are merely boundaries imposed by cultural constructs. I personally think that barriers do not truly exist, nor do isolated dialogues.

 

About the Interviewee

Leah Chan, graduated from Beijing Institute of Fashion Technology in 2019 with a Bachelor of Arts in Jewelry Design and University of the Arts London - London College of Fashion (UAL-LCF) in 2021 with an MA in Fashion Artefact. In 2022, she was certified as a National Assistant Crafts Artist. She studies grain crafts and creates artworks, treating everyday food and cooking methods as metaphors for thinking about relationships between individuals and others. Personal identity construction is a symbolic practice and value formation process that transcends time and space.

Instagram: @im_leahchan

About the author

Ray Zheng, Jewellery maker and researcher. Born in 1997 in Urumqi, China. BA in Jewellery Design at Beijing Institute of Fashion Technology. MFA in Fashions & Embodiment at Goldsmiths, University of London in 2021. She understands jewellery as a comprehensive formulation of body/individual expression that questions value, needs, obsessions and survival. She gravitates towards methods such as documenting and performance to provoke conversations in social politics and traditions.

Email: rhaenyszyx@gmail.com