World Fine Art Professionals and their Key-Pieces, 521 - Elvis Chen

World Fine Art Professionals and their Key-Pieces, 521 – Elvis Chen

Gutfeeling is the theme of the recent exhibition in the Positions series of The Hague art centre Stroom. Guest curator Travis Geertruida invited four artists, including Elvis Chen, full name Kiem Loon Elvis John Chen. He made an installation ‘Fragments of Shelters’, which consists of three parts: a house, a bed and a video. The work shows how identity is constantly formed in relation to the fragile structures in which we live, structures that can both offer protection and prove unstable.

I speak to Elvis at one of the tables in Stroom’s large reception area. He has laid out a number of images of artworks on the table to illustrate his story. In front of me, I see a large drawing in which an empty space is central. On the bottom, a soft line can be seen that suggests the ground, where only a pair of slippers have been left behind, like silent witnesses to someone’s presence. At the top, a winter melon plant (white pumpkin), a kind of gourd, winds its way. The floor is strewn with dozens of folded paper shapes, like fallen leaves. Next to it is another drawing made with Indian ink, from a dramatic perspective that looks up at a group of imposing trees or structures. In the play of light and shadow, a figure stands in the foreground.

Family Ties

He approaches his work on two levels at once, he says, conceptual and emotional. The family tie is very important in this. “What does the family tie mean for my own expectations and decisions? My work is autobiographical in nature. I use my family tie and background as a starting point to explore themes such as desire, expectations, identity, culture. These personal stories form an entry point to broader questions about how fiction and reality collide. It is precisely in this clash between the personal and the social, between memory and construction, that the work is created.”

“I was born in Suriname (1988) in a traditional Asian family, surrounded by local people, raised from the age of eleven in Curaçao and later in my twenties in the Netherlands. My parents had four children, two boys and two girls. I am the youngest.

In Suriname and Curaçao, family plays a central role. The bond with the people around you is closer, you do not only live for yourself but also for the community you belong to. That is not unique to these places, but something you see in Asian, Latin American and Caribbean contexts. In the Netherlands and many Western European countries, it is different, there the emphasis is much more on the individual and personal freedom. That shift between collective and individual is an important source of inspiration for me.”

There is a tension between who we are and who we are supposed to be, he continues. “Your identity is constantly changing, not just depending on where you are and what you experience. It is partly determined by how others see you. In my work I mainly investigate how those external images can conflict with what you feel inside, and how that can lead to a loss or distortion of the self. We wear different masks in different social situations, play different roles, often out of necessity to adapt to the expectations of the environment. But it is precisely through that adaptation – which is sometimes unavoidable – that you can slowly lose touch with your own identity.”

Kiem, Elvis, Chen?

Years ago, he had a telephone conversation with a journalist to make an appointment for a personal interview. “When I later showed up in person for the appointment, he was visibly surprised, he thought he had spoken to a colored Surinamese man. He concluded that based on my accent. He was surprised that I turned out to be of Asian descent. That moment illustrates exactly what my work is about, how people, even before you can show yourself, fill in a part of your identity for you based on voice, appearance, name or cultural projection.”

Just take his name: for some he is Kiem, for others Elvis and for others Chen. “The nurses in the hospital in Suriname gave me part of my name. They suggested Elvis John to my parents. My parents took that over, but added it to the Chinese name Kiem Loon. The Roman Catholic Church is important in Suriname. Most social institutions in Suriname have a relationship with it. I was baptized Catholic as a baby, my parents thought it increased my chances. But when I grew up, I was Kiem Loon to those around me. In Curaçao, people liked the name Elvis better, so they called me Elvis. In the Netherlands, everything is mixed up: Some call me Chen, some Elvis, others Kiem. That shift says a lot about how identity is not only formed by yourself, but also by others.”

Does Elvis have a key work, a work that set him on a new track?

He does. It is the monumental triptych installation consisting of three large panels, each covered with a white background on which drawings in Indian ink can be seen of family members. Combined with portrayed ancestors at the top of each panel, partly covered with black cloths and incense as a reference to commemoration rituals. The installation investigates how family history, loss and identity are interwoven and the confrontation with your own future and your own decision. In one of the works it is an installation of a facade of a house, constructed from reused and discarded materials, weathered wooden planks, an old door and a window with red curtains. Ivy winds its way up between the planks. In the middle sits the artist himself, placed between the open door. The back of the work reveals a different reality than the constructed facade on the front. What first looked like a house, here reveals itself as a fragile construction of white cement blocks, partly broken open with a red wall of wallpaper that is suddenly exposed. The wall is not finished, it crumbles as if something from the inside is trying to break outwards or vice versa, which is an imagination of the future. These works are all a form of a self-portrait of the artist.

He made it in 2014 at the Royal Academy of Art in The Hague, where he started in 2012. “Before 2012, I attended a preparatory art course for six years, the Instituto Buena Bista (IBB) in Curaçao. There I learned different disciplines and art forms and what art was. My mentors were Tirzo Martha and David Bade, founders of IBB. David and Tirzo often invited alumni and students to IBB. I often participated in their social projects and started to develop myself. I already felt: ‘I’m going to become an artist’. In Curaçao the focus was mainly on the making itself. But at the Academy in The Hague that attention shifted to the substantive and theoretical aspects. There I was asked the question: ‘Why do I make my work?’ That forced me to look at my practice again and to delve into the essence of my practice. I started blank, so to speak. It was difficult to show that I was not blank. But I learned a lot and learned to work independently and honestly. I met many colleagues and friends. I learned to believe in myself, ‘I am on the right track’.”

Urgency

“Every work I make carries a certain urgency within it, that urgency is about the human side, for me it is not in the money. If it is about money, commercially, just to sell, the work is dead for me, the work loses its soul for me. The urgency for me is in the human side: we are constantly in conflict, with each other, on a personal, group and macro level. But at the same time I also try to find joy in that conflict.”

In addition to his autonomous practice, he does many social projects. In November ’24, he was part of a project called ‘Kunstness’ as a supervisor, from IBB and Kunsthal Rotterdam in collaboration with Reakt. “I started in Voorburg where people with psychological problems make art with me as a supervisor.”

He proposed the theme: ‘From Struggle to Joy’. “Each participant has their own approach. They met twice a week, Monday and Thursday, sometimes 10, then again 20 people. How do you convert thoughts, feelings and ideas into material? It has resulted in many beautiful personal paintings and drawings. They feel proud that they are not considered clients, but people. One participant said: ‘I have had an eye-opener. I was in the dark, I made the choice to continue with life.’ Social art projects can help people to find answers.” The project was completed in March ’25.

Installation

We are going to look at his installation. The first part, an assemblage of a sleeping man lying in a sloping upward bed, half sunk in the ground, drawn in charcoal. On the left and right hang various white masks. The work is called ‘You realize? I am you’. It is about how your identity can change in a social situation, in other circumstances and how we sometimes lose ourselves under the weight of expectations. The masks were made by various people in groups. “How do you see yourself from the inside? Not externally but internally?” At the back is a drying rack with clothes, often black, bears can also be seen. “You can’t lose everything, a part of your existence remains.”

The second installation is a house. It consists of a fragile construction of a house made of white paper in the form of corrugated iron, with a grate on the roof and a machete that cuts halfway through the house. The whole thing stands on four legs, one of which is supported by a ceramic ram, a white pig looks at the ram. Inside the house is a figure, it is enclosed and immobile, a representation of enclosed identity, survival and pressure, a refugee. It is called ‘Roost, Ram and Refuge’. Inside I see more animals and objects, including a small person in a fetal position in a glass jar. “Sometimes you have to suppress a small part of yourself.” To the left of the house hangs a clothes rack with laundry in the form of bodies. “It shows the vulnerability, the instability of the house. To survive, you need frameworks around you. The machete on the roof marks a moment of tension: it can be a protective symbol, as well as a reference to rupture or necessary action. The object balances between strength, resistance and control, a sign that everything that is fragile must also be able to be defended or cut through. The work also invites viewers to make their own associations and stories.” Body bags hang behind the house. “Those body bags represent saying goodbye to certain elements, Kill your darlings. You have to let go of certain things if you want to move on.”

Video work

The third part of the installation consists of a video projection that is shown on a wall covered with charcoal and torn white cardboard. The video combines recordings from different years, including images from 2012 and images from 2022. We see the domestic situations in the living room of Elvis’ family. Elvis went to Curaçao two years ago to take care of his father as he grew older.

In the video we see intimate domestic moments. We see a mother cutting her son’s hair, left in 2012 and right in 2022. His father eating, talking about his dreams and praying with his wife at the home altar. “I had made a compromise with my parents in 2012. I was allowed to go to the Netherlands if I would return after ten years. I did that, I took care of my father for two years. My father was happy with my choice for the Netherlands as long as I did not go hungry and could earn money.”

The video work does not stand alone, but forms an integral part of the space and the installation as a whole. It is an autonomous expression, but also a physical and emotional experience in which the viewer is invited to take a place within a vulnerable narrative.

His work is autonomous, but also has a physical and emotional side, in which viewers are a part, he says. “It is also a research in which we explore space in a new way and start making objects. It remains exciting. It is a quest that connects to collective narratives. The work is not only an imagination of mine, but a story of everyone.”

Finally, what is his artistic philosophy? “My art is a vehicle to ask questions without giving ready-made answers. It starts with intuitive thought, feelings, a memory and experiences that I have gained. I work from the personal, but connect that to universal themes such as identity, migration, loss and connectedness. I let myself be guided by the space, the material and the environment in which I am going to make the work. I embrace the temporary and fragile nature of my work, that is precisely where the tension between idea and execution lies. I believe that the power of art does not lie in providing solutions, but in opening up space for reflection, for the viewer and for myself. In that sense, my work remains in motion, it opens itself up to change. The public may judge the result.

We live increasingly in a digital world, and I feel the need to make my work visible in that as well. At the same time, I am aware that my practice is strongly rooted in physical materials and manual processes. That is my strength, but that digital world also requires new ways of thinking and presenting. I am curious about how the younger generation of artists, who grew up digitally, shapes this balance between the digital and the tangible. For me, it is not a contradiction but an invitation to exchange and learn.”

https://www.elvischen.com/
https://www.instagram.com/kiemloon/
https://www.stroom.nl/stroom-algemeen/activiteiten/positions-gut-feeling
https://institutobuenabista.com/
https://inzaken.eu/