“Don’t wait around for opportunities — make it. And finally, never take anything too personally, take space...!”— Zulkhairi Zulkiflee

As Singapore marks its 60th year of independence, Artist’s Proof: Singapore at 60 (AP60) presents a sweeping tribute to the nation’s evolving story through the lens of over 50 local artists. Among them is Singaporean artist-curator Zulkhairi Zulkiflee, whose critically attuned lens-based practice explores Malay identity, memory, and representation through the racialised body and everyday spatial encounters. Commissioned as one of 11 new contemporary voices contributing to AP60, Zulkhairi’s new work Pavilion as Monument reimagines Singapore’s ubiquitous public pavilions as mnemonic structures — everyday architectures of gathering and gossip elevated to speculative monuments of agency and desire.

Recently returned to Singapore after completing his graduate studies in Chicago, Zulkhairi has exhibited internationally and is known for his thoughtful investigations into the performativity of language, minor literatures, and postcolonial worlding. In this conversation with CNTRFLD.ART, he reflects on his upbringing in Singapore, his shifting understanding of Malayness, the performative slang of “world,” and how creative work can blur distinctions between memory, monument, and meaning. Framed by his participation in AP60, this dialogue unpacks how everyday spaces, cultural propositions, and artistic agency might together offer new ways of seeing — and remembering — home.

CNTRFLD. Your practice often explores contemporary Malay identity and the racialised body within both local and global contexts. Could you share how growing up in Singapore — with its complex, multiracial social fabric — shaped your early perspectives on identity and storytelling?

ZZ. Growing up in Singapore, art and the internet gave me a comfortable reason to keep to myself. From earlier on, I was always looking outward or elsewhere because Singapore naturally offers a vantage point to the world. This was accelerated by the internet, and I was positively distracted. As a teenager, I remember looking forward to ending school every day because I wanted to watch video clips on Style.com. However, it took me some time to realise I was different and, in particular, of the disjuncture between Singapore’s complex, multiracial realities and its visual representations. I began to question my point of view, the cultural amnesia experienced by minorities like myself, and how negotiating through such issues was an everyday decolonial act.

CNTRFLD. Can you tell us more about your childhood and early artistic influences? Were there particular people, spaces, or moments that nudged you towards artmaking and eventually curating?

ZZ. In my teenage years, fashion was a starting point. I was fascinated by the idea of self-fashioning. I enjoyed perusing fashion editorial in magazines like Style Magazine, Dazed and i-D. This was a formative period which shaped my visual sense. Other influential moments include stumbling upon books like An equation of vulnerability: a certain thereness, being, which focused on the artist Suzann Victor. I remember flipping through the book in the public library and wondering, “You mean you can do that in art?” Additionally, the meaning of style by Phil Collins at the 2011 Singapore Biennale also proved to be something I still return to now and again for its tender approach. And the iconic Study of Three Thermos Flasks by artist Faizal Fadil! In terms of the curatorial, Harald Szeeman’s curatorial project When Attitudes Become Form influenced my earlier curation, which I collaborated on with peers, and much later, the exhibition A Series of Utterly Improbable, Yet Extraordinary Renditions by Arthur Jafa. Sometimes I feel these influences were quite tangential, but they are an inevitable part of my unique constellation.

CNTRFLD. You’ve lived, worked, and exhibited in places as diverse as Germany, Indonesia, the UAE, and now Chicago. How have these cross-cultural experiences challenged or expanded your understanding of your Singaporean identity and your connection to home?

ZZ. The experience of “seeing” home from afar has been valuable for me. Chicago made me realise that there is more work to be done at home, or rather, to reconsider what we have. Despite this, I think we need to have more grace and patience towards creative practice. We can be more intentional in being inclusive because such values are crucial in a globalised world. I suppose in an ironic sense, my time away has made me think about what a Singaporean can become. I think there is no harm in being optimistic!

CNTRFLD. Your current work investigates the slang use of the word “world” in Singaporean-Malay, connecting everyday speech to broader questions of desire, performance, and memory. How do these explorations manifest in your work for AP60?

ZZ. The commission for AP60 has allowed me to meditate further on my current artistic research, which started off as a curious thought. My current work engages with the pavilion as a kind of ‘mnemonic architecture’, also understood as a shelter commonly found within public housing in Singapore. I am asking, “What if the pavilion is a ‘monument’?” To answer your question, I begin to imagine overlooked spatial practices that intersect with public structures. In particular, the word “world” functions as a conversational phenomenon that is often activated during casual gatherings by racialised youths in spaces like the pavilion. It is unique for its ‘performative’ nature. By ‘performative’, I am referring to the potential for identity to be shaped based on social exchanges, often coloured through embellishments and histrionics. These are formative moments when people are young. I find this to be curious when set against the demand for productivity in everyday life. I take my work for AP60, as one chapter of ongoing research. There are various facets yet to be revealed. For now, we see reconstructed pavilion structures without people.

CNTRFLD. “Pavilion as Monument,” for instance, reimagines public pavilions in Singapore as spaces of performance, memory, and agency. Could you share more about how you’ve developed this work for AP60 and the ideas you hope viewers will walk away with?

ZZ. “Pavilion as Monument” began as collages, which I carefully dissected and reconstructed. I enjoy the simple gesture of putting them together as a formal exploration, especially with little care for architectural feasibility. I parallel this to “world” as a kind of grandiose storytelling scheme which relies on a performer’s narrative deftness. A slight “mistake” could collapse the whole plot. I consider their pictorial manifestation as a mnemonic device for me too. While being abroad, I was recollecting moments of colloquial humour from home. Similarly, they were made during a period when I attended a course called Making New Monuments by the New Art School Modality (NASM) and Monuments, Memorials and Racial Justice in graduate school. I realise Singapore’s approach to monuments is vastly different. When conversations surrounding monuments are charged elsewhere in the world, a new Raffles monument was installed at home.  In the developed work for AP60, the ‘pavilions’ are formally different. They look concrete-like and are meant to look ‘monumental’.  I included a dissected map of Southeast Asia as a background to gesture at a complex network of histories. It is a call to look at our immediate surroundings. I hope viewers remain curious about the structures as formal objects and question their understanding of a monument (or even memorials). Can something ordinary be declared a monument? What kind of memories would qualify?

CNTRFLD. You’ve been supported by initiatives like the NTU CCA Residencies and the Fulbright programme. In your view, how do support systems for artists in Singapore compare with those in the US or elsewhere — especially when it comes to encouraging experimental or critical work around race and identity?

ZZ. Support can vary in different contexts. During my time in Chicago, I was privileged to experience the support of artist-professors who were rigorous in their critiques. I was always encouraged to be critical of my artmaking. Respect is given when you have artistic ownership. People want to hear your unique “voice”. It was never about societal expectations like being correct. However, Singapore has its own set of challenges. There is always a strange anxiety looming! A double consciousness. Maybe there is a fear of being different? Despite it all, support does exist in pragmatic ways, which is crucial in enabling the development of the artwork itself. I have been very privileged to receive such support with the work I do. I suppose, when faced with such prevailing tensions, especially with a better understanding of other art worlds, it is still best that artists set the cultural tone, measure what is needed, and push it into shape. We need to lead by valuing experimental or critical attitudes, whether it is in identity or otherwise. Maybe support will follow.

CNTRFLD. As an artist-curator and educator, you’re involved in multiple aspects of cultural production. How does your role as a curator or organiser (e.g. through Sikap) inform your studio practice, and vice versa?

ZZ. I have always considered myself to be an artist first — anything else that I do is an extension of my artistic role. I suppose the way I approach my creative practice is resonant with how I see identity as complex. For instance, if I were to advocate for a complex representation of minority bodies, I should embody this complexity in ways that I know. This has manifested as multiple roles in my studio practice. I like to participate in various capacities, and I don’t want to limit or reduce myself. However, this might be confusing to many, especially when roles and identities are often approached in an atomised way.

CNTRFLD. What future projects or lines of inquiry are you excited to pursue after your MFA and the AP60 exhibition? Are there new territories, geographies, or ideas you’re eager to engage with?

ZZ. The commission for AP60 gave me the perfect momentum to continue my current artistic research. I see it as critical support. On that note, I have been thinking a lot about artmaking, like writing a book. This is different from, say, a SparkNotes summary, which often feels like the case in a frenzied, fast-paced environment. Therefore, I am still developing the “book”, and I want to take my time and be open to surprises.

CNTRFLD. Reflecting on your journey so far — from exploring the “Malay boy” trope to worlding and confabulation — how has your own understanding of Malayness evolved? Has it become more fractured, more expansive, or both?

ZZ. This is a great question! Malayness to me is a proposition. It is an inflection. It is not about purity or representational in the way we think of visual markers or artistic heritage. I find it interesting how my creative practice has actually taught me that it is a dynamic term, even if this is contrary to most. The suffix ‘ness’ is an important aspect here. It refers to a state, which inevitably changes. Hence, my understanding of it is that it is always teeming with possibilities.

CNTRFLD. Lastly, what advice would you offer to younger Singaporean artists — especially those from minority communities — navigating their own identities while making work in an increasingly globalised, and sometimes fragmented, art world?

ZZ. I would advise younger Singaporean artists (or even my peers!) to honour their lived experiences. To be open to differences and seek creative tensions! Don’t wait around for opportunities — make it. And finally, never take anything too personally, take space and dress nicely!

About the artist.

Zulkhairi Zulkiflee (b. 1991, Singapore) is an artist-curator whose lens-based practice explores contemporary Malay identity through the racialised body as a conduit, positioning the Singaporean-Malay experience within broader local and global narratives. Recently returned to Singapore after completing his MFA at the University of Illinois Chicago under a Fulbright study grant, Zulkhairi works across film, photography, and installation to investigate themes of Malayness, social agency, knowledge production, and the politics of representation. A key focus of his recent research is the word “world” as used in Singaporean-Malay slang — often a pejorative denoting self-aggrandisement — and its potential as a conceptual and creative framework. Drawing on notions of “worlding” from postcolonial discourse and everyday performances of identity, his work such as Pavilion as Monument transforms communal urban sites like HDB pavilions into speculative spaces of memory, desire, and critical agency. Zulkhairi has exhibited internationally, with presentations in Germany, Indonesia, Thailand, the United Arab Emirates, and the United States, including at Heaven Gallery (Chicago), Der Greif (Munich), Gajah Gallery (Jakarta), Expo 2020 (Dubai), and the Singapore Pavilion. He was awarded the IMPART Awards (2020), the Objectifs’ Curator Open Call (2019), and was a mentee on the Chow and Lin mentorship list. He also completed a residency at NTU Centre for Contemporary Art Singapore (2023–2024), where he developed his ongoing inquiry into language, minor literatures, and the sociolinguistic construction of identity. As the founder of Sikap, a project group engaging in experimental forms of organisation and artistic collaboration, Zulkhairi continues to expand his exploration of Malay social ontology while critically reflecting on Singapore’s place in a globalised world.

About Artist’s Proof: Singapore at 60.

Artist’s Proof: Singapore at 60 is a landmark exhibition and deeply personal tribute to Singapore’s founding leaders, told not through speeches or textbooks, but through art. Over the past decade, private collector Mr Chong Huai Seng has gathered artworks capturing Singapore’s transformation, from nostalgic street scenes to bold contemporary takes on identity and leadership. In celebration of Singapore’s 60th birthday, this ambitious exhibition features over 90 works by more than 50 artists, offering a fresh perspective of the Singapore story through the creative expressions of local artists from different generations. Featuring 11 new commissions by local artists and 1 brand new music piece, the exhibition underscores Chong’s passion in supporting young artists, seeking to inspire audiences to embrace local contemporary artists and invest in the growing potential of the future of Singapore’s arts through art collecting and patronage.  Chong’s love letter to Singapore traces its journey from a struggling young nation to a global city.  Scenes of Singapore’s evolving cityscape unfold through paintings and photographs, while works inspired by Lee Kuan Yew and the  founding fathers examine their legacy and impact on nation-building.  The exhibition also looks inward, questioning the relationship between artists, the state, and its people.  Presented by The Culture Story and produced by Family Office for Art, Artist’s Proof: Singapore at 60 invites audiences of all ages and backgrounds to experience Singapore through the eyes of artists.

Singapore at 60 (AP60) at Artspace@Helutrans, Singapore (13 July – 17 August 2025)

With thanks for the Culture Story for facilitating this interview.