07/06/2026

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Malaysian Paper

theSunday Special VII ON SUNDAY JUNE 7, 2026

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Building artistic identity

From abandoned house to creative sanctuary

That creative identity is especially visible in Alice Lost in Wonderland , Viva Circus Festival’s original production that blends aerial choreography with theatrical storytelling. “ Alice Lost in Wonderland is a celebration of imagination and transformation. It reflects what Viva stands for by using performance to nurture growth, creativity and confidence,” Yap said. Building a future for aerial arts Despite the challenges, Viva Vertical continues pushing towards greater recognition for the industry. One of its current initiatives involves applying to establish a national-level aerial sports association, which would help create clearer standards, progression pathways and safety guidelines for practitioners. For Chan, formal recognition could fundamentally reshape how people view aerial arts in Malaysia. “It would make a huge difference, especially in giving people a clearer sense of direction. Right now, many people discover aerial arts organically through friends or social media, but formal recognition would create a more structured pathway for growth,” she said. She also expressed hope that recognition would encourage more Malaysians to try aerial disciplines without feeling intimidated by the stereotypes often attached to them. “Pole may appear stylised or intimidating, but it involves a high level of strength training, coordination and body awareness. Aerial arts challenge you to overcome fear, trust your body and push beyond your comfort zone.” Over time, those experiences often translate into something larger than physical skill. “You begin to discover new strengths, not just physically but mentally as well. It can even change the way you approach challenges in everyday life,” she said. Reaching beyond the niche As Malaysia’s aerial arts scene continues growing, performers and studios alike are hoping the industry can move beyond its niche reputation and gain broader cultural recognition. For Yap, the long-term goal is not simply about staging performances, but about building a sustainable creative identity capable of representing Malaysia internationally. “Our goal is not just to perform, but to create original work that can eventually represent Malaysia on a bigger stage,” he said. That ambition reflects a wider shift happening within the local aerial arts community, where performers are no longer content with being seen as novelty acts or fitness influencers. Instead, they are pushing for recognition as athletes, storytellers and artistes whose work deserves the same respect accorded to more conventional disciplines. And while the journey remains uncertain, the determination within the community suggests that aerial arts in Malaysia are no longer simply trying to survive. They are actively trying to evolve. From — page VI

E IGHT years ago, a house abandoned amid overgrown bushes and covered in mud in Kampung Bohor Merah might have gone unnoticed by most people. But for artist Suhaimi Fadzir, the house was a hidden gem waiting to be given a new lease of life. Today, the once-deserted house has been transformed into Studio Puyu, a private creative space where Suhaimi, 60, experiments with paintings, sculptures and unique art installations. The Gerik, Perak-born artist who began actively producing artworks in the 1980s said the studio came about unexpectedly while he was involved in a renovation project at a prominent resort on the legendary island of Langkawi. Armed with a background in architecture, the assignment took him to Langkawi but his need for a personal creative space led him to search for a suitable studio before discovering the semi-detached rental house for about RM500 a month. “I am always painting, carving and doing this kind of work that involves the smell of paint, so I needed a more suitable personal space. At the time, it was difficult for my family to stay at the project site whenever they visited, so I started looking for a house that could function as a studio. “Eventually, I found this semi-detached house, which at the time looked like it was in the middle of a jungle, long abandoned and filled with mud. We cleaned it up little by little and over time, more paintings, sculptures and installation pieces from my artistic experiments began to fill the space,” he told Bernama during a recent visit to his studio. Through Studio Puyu, Suhaimi proves art does not necessarily require expensive materials. By using discarded objects such as coconut shells, tree branches and worn-out cloth, he transforms them into artworks rich with meaning. The father of three believes the value of an object does not lie in its original appearance but in the hidden potential that can be brought to life through creativity. Architect-artist finds mojo in rustic corner of Langkawi

Suhaimi with one of his sculptures at Studio Puyu. – ALL PICS FROM BERNAMA

“

To ordinary people, these

objects may seem meaningless but as artists, we see them as having their own worth and value.”

“To ordinary people, these objects may seem meaningless but as artists, we see them as having their own worth and value. When collected and arranged in a certain way, they can eventually become part of an artwork,” he said. Unlike commercial galleries, Studio Puyu retains the identity of a traditional village house and only accepts visitors by appointment. This approach allows visitors to immerse themselves in the creative process and witness firsthand how discarded objects are arranged as part of his experimental artistic space. Although he also has studios in Bukit Antarabangsa, Selangor and St Louis in the US, Suhaimi chooses to remain based in Langkawi because of the island’s unique atmosphere. “Langkawi feels empty in a good way, so ideas come more peacefully. When creating art, the environment here is enjoyable because the mind is calmer and there are fewer distractions, making it easier for me to think and experiment with my work.” Suhaimi said his artistic approach

revolves around the concept of “archipainting”, which combines elements of architecture and painting through a fusion of two-dimensional and three-dimensional forms to create works with raised textures, structures and visual layers. “Painting is two-dimensional while architecture is three-dimensional, such as houses or structures. So, I combine those two elements and call it ‘archipainting’. Although it starts as a painting, the artwork includes added three dimensional, layered and raised elements,” he explained. Acknowledging the art market in Langkawi is more limited compared with Kuala Lumpur and relies heavily on overseas collectors and foreign tourists, Suhaimi nevertheless remains optimistic about continuing to create art from his quiet corner in Kampung Bohor Merah. He added smaller artworks are generally more appealing to buyers because they are easier to carry home while large-scale works or installations present their own challenges in terms of space, cost and logistics.

The Chinese character hao , meaning ‘good’, is the centre of this artwork.

Most of Suhaimi’s artworks are made using discarded material.