This article records a conversation between artist Joanne Chan and curator Agnes Wu (Gallery Manager and Head of Operations of 3812), during Joanne Chan’s first Solo Exhibition at 3812 Gallery Hong Kong: “Love Language”. The artist shared insights into her creative practice and reflected on the stories that inspired her works, offering viewers an opportunity to immerse themselves in the intricate themes of love and expression.
Joanne Chan (left) and Agnes Wu at “Love Language: Joanne Chan Solo Exhibition”
Agnes Wu (hereafter referred to as Wu): Greetings, I’m Agnes, the Gallery Manager at 3812 Gallery and the curator of this exhibition and thank you for joining our conversation today. Not only does the exhibition marks Joanne’s first solo show at our gallery as a represented artist, it also serves as her debut major solo exhibition. We would like to express our utmost gratitude to Joanne for collaborating with the gallery.
Titled “Love Language”, the theme is the result of six months of conceptual development. Throughout her career, Joanne’s strength in capturing emotional depth in her works has always allowed her to convey a profound sense of completeness, and she has consistently demonstrated great sensitivity and thoughtfulness as an artist. Recalling from previous conversations, she seemed to have infused her pieces with her own interpretations of love, and we are extremely thankful to Joanne for pouring her sincere emotions into her pieces.
Over the past six months, Joanne has been dedicating herself, tirelessly creating over 20 new pieces. This exhibition showcases over 30 works in total, having the final section of the exhibition include pieces from Joanne’s older works.
Let us first delve into the backstories and inspirations behind your creative practice. Joanne, could you please share with us how the “On the way” series came about, and what the initial inspirations or intentions behind this exhibition were?
Joanne Chan (hereafter referred to as Chan): When guiding visitors through the exhibition, I often find myself starting at the final section, where the presented works distil the trajectory of my creative practice over the past decade. The first piece I invite viewers to engage with, or rather, the piece I recommend everyone to commence their “Love Language” experience at is the indigo-toned painting titled “On the way - Blue Horizon“ (2021). This particular work holds great significance, as had it not been for the creation of this particular painting, the exhibition as a whole may not have come to fruition.
I created this painting during the pandemic, following the passing of my grandmother. It was the first time I truly confronted the emotions that stem from losing a loved one. Life seemed to have slowed down to a halt for me personally. When my grandfather had passed away five years prior, I couldn’t fully comprehend the significance of loss at the time. I simply perceived it as no longer being able to see him. During this entire time, I never had a complete grasp on the emotional gravity loss carries. It was only after the passing of my grandmother that I felt compelled to quietly sit with the pain, to grieve, and to truly understand the depth and nature of that experience.
Joanne Chan and her paintings, from left: On the way - Blue Horizon, On the way - Blue Soul, On the way - Blue Current and On the way - Blue Desert, 2021
During this period, I became acutely sensitive to light. I developed a disliking to driving, as I found the glare of the headlights of oncoming cars unsettling. Similarly, I lost interest in admiring the night views of Victoria Harbour’s dazzling lights, instead preferring the pitch-black expanse of the night sky seen from the comfort of my home. My husband, who was my boyfriend at the time, and I frequented Repulse Bay to observe the sea. The view of the sea at night was an endless, profound darkness, stretching far into the void-like, infinite horizon. As the crashing of the waves reached us, we would look up at the sky embellished with seemingly countless stars.
As I worked on this series, I pondered on my usage of deep blue. The process of creating these deep-blue paintings allowed me to engage with my own feelings of grief and mourning, or perhaps to reflect on where the departed might have moved on to. While at times, I felt inclined to introduce more colour to my pieces, I find myself constantly reverting to a muted and dark colour scheme. Knowing that there were moments when the sky seemed to be shifting in my work, I had already envisioned that this deep blue could hold potential for the emergence of light through colour. However, at that point, I felt that the usage of dark, muted colours was essential for me personally to sediment and to mourn in a quieter, more contemplative manner.
It is worth noting that many of my other works, such as “Summer Breeze” (2022) which is displayed across from “On the way - Blue Horizon”, employ much more vibrant colours, but that would be a completely different story.
If you look closely at the center of this painting, you will notice a triangular shape that resembles the sail of a sailboat. This sailboat holds significant personal meaning for me. The inclusion of it was not a conscious decision, but rather an accidental occurrence a year after my grandmother’s passing, following the death of my grandfather.
The shape of the boat is particularly meaningful to my grandfather, because his father had once operated a shipyard. I remember hearing stories from my family about a street in Macau dedicated to shipbuilding, though I have never seen it myself. During the years of political turmoil, my great-grandfather insisted on staying behind at the shipyard until the last of the workers had left. He was eventually captured, and the entire business came to a subsequent end shortly thereafter. In my grandfather’s small house in Shau Kei Wan, there were many ship miniatures. They were not the typical yacht models, but rather those of grand warships. One of the fondest memories I share with him was visiting a park in Chai Wan where we would sail small boats together. In a way, I think of this painting as a tribute to that shared memory of between my grandfather and I.
As my creative journey evolved, I began to develop a deep yearning for colour, which propelled me to start this new series. I came to believe that the expression of love should not be confined to states of stagnation, introspection, or mourning. Rather, it should be a celebration and manifestation of self-realization, and a more profound engagement with one’s own life. This approach serves as both an act of gratitude and a blessing for those who have once loved. It is through their influence that I began contemplating the complexities of life and death, and as a result, my works are no longer merely a reflection of the brighter aspects of life for the sake of others.
While viewers may interpret my paintings as a gift of positivity, personally, they also represent my courageous confrontation with my own vulnerabilities and arrogance. This dynamic in meaning mirrors the juxtapositions of light and dark within the painting itself: in shadows, light appears all the more luminous.
Wu: Joanne mentioned about “On the way - Blue Horizon”, a piece already created long before we began our discussions for this exhibition. As we continued to explore and reflect on Joanne's creative evolution over the past year, the colour blue seemed to have become an omnipresent theme with your pieces, gradually evolving into the core of this exhibition’s body of work. Joanne, throughout this year, you have learned to embrace both the highs and lows of your life, and to accept of life’s various aspects. How has this personal growth influenced your creative process? And what would you say is your most significant takeaway from this exhibition?
Installation view of “Love Language”, from left: On the way - Echoes of Affection, On the way - Echoes of Longing, Whispers in Bloom - Eternal Love, Whispers in Bloom - Eternal Love 2 and On the way – Veneer, 2024
Chan: I have come to realize that love manifests itself in a wide variety of forms. At the same time, it is a process that cannot be rushed. For example, if you look at the transition between works such as “On the way – Echoes of Affection” (2024) and “On the way – Veneer” (2024), you’ll see that they were created within the same time frame, yet the manipulation and handling of colour differs greatly between the two. Some viewers have commented that my brushstrokes seem to capture a rapid motion, as if the brush was darting across the canvas. I feels to me that I am trying to capture the oscillations of the soul. I believe the brevity of human life is what makes it radiant. Although life is constantly fleeting, when I wish to preserve its essence, I do so through painting, and through painting do I give fleeting moments like these permanence.
Wu: Each of Joanne's paintings tells a different story. When viewers look at her works, they can first observe the piece itself, and then pay attention to the title, which, whether read in Chinese or English, leads itself to have a poetic quality. It conveys a language of love, telling a story from different perspectives. For example, Joanne mentioned "On the Way – Echoes of Affection”. Although it uses a lot of dark blue tones, the overall feeling it gives is still quite bright. I believe this piece is the culmination of Joanne's creative journey throughout different periods of time. When she first returned to Hong Kong from London about seven years ago to become a full-time artist, her works were vibrant and colourful, as if inspired by imagined natural landscapes. Now, with the "On the Way" series, where blue is the dominant tone, she continues to convey the landscapes in her mind. "On the Way – Echoes of Affection" represents a different train of thought, filled with the traces of those who have passed and the ones who remain. It serves as a reminder to both the artist and the viewers about how, in this universe that we are left in, we can still find beauty and brilliance.
Joanne Chan, On the way - Echoes of Affection, 2024, Oil on canvas, 120 x 100cm
Chan: If anyone listens to Cantonese songs, you may search for the"For those who stay, For those who had left” by C AllStar. I cried many times while listening to the song and painting "On the Way – Echoes of Affection". Regarding the emotion of being left behind, at first, I felt like I was the only one who had been left behind. But later, I realized that there were also many people who stayed by my side. This "staying" isn't just about me being left alone—it's about many people choosing to remain with me.
Earlier, Agnes also mentioned my previous works, and I think I should start by explaining why I did abstract art. When I was producing ceramic pieces in the UK, I was often left with the dissatisfaction of not being able to convey my emotions directly through a brush. With ceramics, I often felt that there is a presence of a certain “softness”, and I could be less figurative. Abstract painting, to me, is a very raw medium. It allows me to explain or express my genuine self. Although abstract art in itself doesn’t possess an absolute meaning, I feel like it’s the most sincere form of expression. It's like looking into a mirror, and I find this fascinating.
My 2015 graduation project was a painting depicting a vast red sea of blood. At the time, I was deeply contemplating human nature, and alongside completing this piece, I also finished my thesis on the meaning of life. Back then, I was in an intense state of despair, which is why my painting was dominated by red and black hues. The completion of this abstract painting itself surprised even myself, leading me to reflect on why abstract art could feel so explicit. This experience guided me to search for a sense of light within the composition.
I aspire to present myself to those around me as joyful and gentle, but in this process, I must also confront the fragile and rough aspects of myself. Creating abstract art feels like a journey of self-discovery, exploring who I truly am as a person.
Throughout my creative process, I never decide on a title for a painting before it is completed. I also do not create sketches; All the paintings I do are created naturally and spontaneously. This process feels like having a conversation with myself. If you have read the artists statement and curatorial statement that Agnes and I wrote, I included a statement: "If challenging and exploring the unknown is an adventure, then I aspire to become a great adventurer who bravely faces my own internal self."
I want to understand and acknowledge the difference between my true self and the self I present in reality. I believe that as I come to know myself better, the light that shines upon me can shine even brighter.
Joanne Chan, On the way – Veneer, 2024, Oil on canvas, 120 x 100cm
This series in blue is called “On the way”. Beyond the symbolism of the sailboat and the experiences of the pandemic, it is also connected to my daily spiritual practice. During my spiritual journey, I have realized that personal transformation can sometimes be a quick occurrence. The saying “On the way” can in a way mean “transition”, and in another symbolize our short existence in this world. Our interactions with others often evoke different emotions, but it is not always about you being “on the way” to someone, sometimes, someone is “on the way” to you.
In this process, I see every encounter between souls as a magnificent play. How can we write our own plays without regrets is, in fact, a choice we must make. As I paint and grow a better understanding of my own self, I’ve come to realise that the connections I’ve created with every single friend had become more genuine. I hope to be a sincere person. However, when I reflect upon myself, I at times discover various different versions of myself.
I realize that understanding and acknowledging these different aspects of one’s self is truly a blessing. This is because I believe that It is only through the confrontation of a self that we refuse the see ourselves can we grow and improve spiritually. This is what I refer to as “progress”. This insight—whether from my spiritual practice or from the meditative guidance of my teachers—enables me to go further than I had ever imagined. However, before I can move forward, I must recognize first the limitations I have set on myself.
For me, painting is a tangible process of spiritual reflection and organization. Only after completing the work and looking back do I realize that such a landscape exists within myself.
Wu: Many of your acquaintances seemed to have noticed the changes within you over time and are delighted by the mental state you are in. I’m sure they are happy in behalf of you for this exhibition. I’d like to ask, which artwork is your favourite? Which piece are you most satisfied with and feel best represents your current state?
Chan: At this moment, I would choose "On the way - Stardust" (2024). This painting was completed after I returned from a short yet intense seven-day travel.
Installation view of “Love Language”
From left, On the way – Stardust and On the way - Orchestral Tempest Sonata, 2024
I have always been very anxious and hesitant to paint the things I truly love. As you may have noticed, I usually avoid painting figurative subjects. I wish to communicate in detail with others, yet I fear that if I express myself too clearly, no one will truly understand me. I feel that maintaining a sense of distance makes everything more comfortable.
However, I later discovered the things I love may also be loved and accepted by others. After this realization, I painted stars, which I had always enjoyed gazing at, for the first time. Whether it was the stars I saw in Hong Kong’s night sky or those I encountered in Europe, I captured them all in my paintings. I also painted the rainbow-coloured clouds I absolutely adored in Switzerland and incorporated the soulful movements I’ve always imagined into the piece.
There was a time when the Great Comet of 2024 could be seen from Hong Kong. I went out to witness the nights when the stars are brightest and painted them as well. I also love rainbows, so I bought a rainbow catcher for my studio. One afternoon, after the sunlight poured into the studio, the rainbow appeared even at night, and I painted that moment, too.
I discovered that by combining the different things I love, I was able to create a painting that I truly loved. Even though it depicts a blue sky, it is still a joyful piece. A viewer once told me that the colour blue can often create associations to the term “blues” in English, symbolizing melancholy or sadness. In reality, this definition is quite broad, but in my painting, it is not limited to just that meaning, and through this dialogue, I want to convey to everyone that every colour, even if it has held a specific definition in one’s life, can change at any time—as long as you are willing to give it the chance. If someone is in a state of happiness, the world they perceive will naturally appear beautiful. Conversely, if they are unhappy, everything they see may seem unpleasant. Therefore, the first step to happiness and self-healing is to take good care of your own heart, and when you care for yourself, you can then take care of the people around you.
On the way – Stardust at Joanne Chan’s studio
Wu: Your current approach to creation is quite different from before. Could you describe your current state? Or perhaps, since you primarily work with oil paints now, is it the medium or your current mindset that differs from the past, leading to changes in your creative process?
Chan: I used spray paint for several reasons in the past. First, I started using it during my high school years in Hong Kong. Second, the space I had in the UK was much larger. Spray paint allowed me to achieve a greater coverage of work, and is a technique I really enjoyed, so while in the UK, I expanded on it and continued creating larger works. In fact, I still really like this medium.
However, after returning to Hong Kong, I found it difficult to work with spray paint in an indoor environment. Firstly, the smell is an issue, and secondly, the protective gear I wear causes discomfort to my neck, so I stopped using spray paint for a while. In the future, if space permits or if I have access to an outdoor environment, I would definitely experiment with spray paint again. It’s a very fast medium, allowing me to quickly and urgently express my immediate feelings from within.
On the other hand, when I use a much slower medium, such as oil paint, it offers me a different kind of expression of emotion. It allows me to take my time with the creative process. I am extremely delighted to hold this exhibition, as it provides me with such lee-way to challenge myself and think about how to preserve all the emotions I feel inside through the usage of oil paint.
A bad habit that I admittedly had is that when my studio was filled with artworks and there was no more space to place new paintings, I would immediately take a break. I would look at all the works and think to myself, "This is enough; I’ve already done so much." However, because the space for this exhibition was so large, I ordered many canvases and painted multiple pieces at once, which was honestly quite overwhelming.
However, When the studio filled up and I had to move the works to make space for more, it felt exciting and almost magical. I realized that I have so much to express through painting, whereas before, I had been holding myself back, as if suppressing those thoughts and feelings.
So, as I mentioned earlier, my mindset has greatly changed. I feel that now I am more open to allowing myself to experiment with new things. In this process, more choices emerge, leading to the development of creative work that is freer and less constrained. For example, I enjoy the usage of a variety of media because I enjoy incorporating different elements in my pieces. In my studio, I am the god of my own space. If I want to do something, I just do it, and this freedom brings me a lot of joy and happiness.
Joanne Chan, Summer Breeze, 2022, Acrylic and spray on canvas, 120 x 160cm
Wu: In the past, Joanne mainly used monochromatic tones when working with spray paint. The piece she created in red that was mentioned earlier was also made with spray paint. The work "Summer Breeze" in our current exhibition was created using acrylic and spray paint, which is the mixed media technique she mentioned earlier.
Chan: The lower left corner of "Summer Breeze" also includes a material I learned to use while helping with renovation projects. It has a unique texture of minerals and sand, which is something I particularly love.
Wu: Would you describe yourself as more optimistic now than before? And when you complete a batch of new works, what are your personal thoughts about it?
Chan: I feel that the mental space I have now is much broader, and I am indeed more optimistic. I’ve always been an optimistic person ever since I was young, but when I feel sad, I tend to get lost in my own sorrow, and those emotions become very apparent. Now, I am more open and I no longer quickly define myself or others; it’s about finding harmony—if it fits, then it works, if not, then it doesn’t. I think the same applies to painting. I use what works for me without limiting myself. I don’t stop a painting when I feel I’ve used enough blue. Instead, I go with my own rhythm—“let it go” rather than “let it be.” I believe there is a big difference between the two. "Let it go" means going with the flow, without forcing myself to either let go or hold back, because its existence itself is just perfectly right. I like where I’m at; I have a kind of focus that allows me to do what I care about no matter where I am.
Joanne Chan at her studio
Wu: So what are your next steps ?
Chan: In the future, I would like to create more paintings related to plants. I have been fortunate to encounter some projects that allow me to focus more on painting plants. As a result, viewers will also notice that in my recent works, my abstract paintings are no longer just combinations of different shades of blue placed together. Instead, my paintings include more tangible elements, though it is still abstract.
I personally love nature—it’s as if the mountains, the rivers, the stars, and the flowers are all my friends. I want to incorporate more of these landscapes and elements into my future works, while still retaining my own artistic language. Viewers will see various brushstrokes or the depiction of light in my paintings. These represent the beautiful things I observe, and I am drawn to the state of those objects. I enjoy the quick, dynamic movement that seem to disappear when you blink.
Wu: Many of Joanne’s works incorporate elements of landscapes, such as in this blue series. Many people perceive them as depicting the sky or the ocean, but actually, the works near the entrance of the gallery, and many other also pieces also incorporates different colours, no longer belonging to the blue series. Could you share your thoughts on the introduction of colour to your pieces? Why did you suddenly move away from the blue tone? Or was there any particular influences to your mood during their creation?
Chan: I would say that when I use deep blue, it’s often about exploring the depths of my inner world. Our inner self has many layers, and the deepest part feels like a separate realm. When I am in an infinite space but still alone with myself, putting other colours above blue makes me feel like the colours are floating within my heart. No matter if it’s the deep sea or the sky, they both represent a fantasy of a world that exists only in our imagination.
When you look at some of my paintings with boundaries, I haven’t used deep blue to enclose them, or they might resemble landscape paintings. I feel like it’s as if there’s a magic door in this universe—once it opens and you look through it, you can catch a glimpse of yourself. Whether it’s in my earlier works or later ones, it’s always been like this.
Installation view of “Love Language”
From left: Celestial Waltz, On the way - Whispers of the Wind, Whimsical Wayfarer and Fae, 2024
In the exhibition, there is a landscape painting titled "Celestial Waltz" (2024). Such painting is something I create every year during the Mid-Autumn Festival, a tradition that began after my grandmother passed away. During this time, I always feel the sentiment of "every festive occasion carries the thoughts of loved ones." There is a line in the poem "Water Melody" (水調歌頭) that says, "When will the bright moon appear?" (明月幾時有) and "I hope we live long, sharing the beauty of the moon, even if separated by a thousand miles." (但願人長久,千里共嬋娟) My grandmother’s name was "Lee Yut-Gyun," (李月娟) and her name draws parallels to the poem.
In this longing, I feel that "Celestial Waltz" is a celebration with all my ancestors and loved ones who have passed, as if they are all celebrating together in another world. Behind this painting in the exhibition space, there is a window, and the light that shines through the window creates the impression of souls celebrating together in that landscape, just like the people in this realm are. I really love how this painting differs from the others in terms of harmony. Because I am not painting myself; I am painting an otherly world that shines like a magical forest.
“On the way - Dawn” and “On the way – Breath of Serenity” (2024) are also paintings I thoroughly enjoy. “On the way – Dawn” eludes to like the light from the abyss at dawn, looking up. “On the way – Breath of Serenity” has a lush, green vibe. In this painting, I am pursuing the “let it go” state—it’s peaceful, fresh, and comfortable. Having completed this painting, I thought of starting a “Stillness” series, creating other works with a fresh, airy approach.
In “On the way – Whispers of the Wind”, “Whimsical Wayfarer”, and “Fae” (2024), the audience will also a fresh atmosphere relating to the skies, which I personally enjoy very much.
From left: Joanne Chan, On the way – Dawn and On the way- Breath of Serenity, 2024, Oil on canvas, 35 x 30cm
Wu: This batch of works showcased in the exhibition is part of a very new series, and Joanne has used many different techniques. Next year, we will also be collaborating with Joanne on various projects, so everyone can continue to follow her new works. After the blue series, how will she step out of this blue space? How will she seek or embrace her true nature?
Joanne’s creative process began with many natural elements, and her blue series mainly depicted the sky and the ocean. Now, she returns to landscape painting, with pieces such as "Harmony in Bloom 2" (2024). While one might be confused about its meaning without knowing the Chinese title,《花影和鳴 2》, with the English title, it becomes clear that it refers to the shadows of flowers and the symphony of birds—everything in this piece holds a poetic quality. I’m also looking forward to seeing Joanne’s new works in the future, and how she will portray a more expansive view of landscape painting.
Joanne Chan, Harmony in Bloom 2, 2024, Oil on canvas, 31 x 92cm
Chan: I am also looking forward to it. I hope everyone can take a closer look at the titles of my works, as they are sometimes like riddles. I deliberately did not provide direct translations between Chinese and English. For example, “On the way – Echoes of Affection” is actually titled 《渡 - 留下來的人》(meaning “On the way – Those who stay behind” in Chinese). The more languages you understand, the more complete the narrative becomes. For this exhibition, I also spent some time on the written work to express the wholeness, completeness, and the aspects of love of humans. I hope this allows people to understand that by looking at things from different angles, they can achieve a more enriching visual experience.