Jewell Dalina Is The Artist Making Us Feel Things

For seven solid years, Jewell Dalina worked as a professional pastry chef, ticking all the boxes for a practical career. It paid the bills and allowed her to survive. Sometimes, though, survival isn’t enough. She had always been interested in making art and did so as a hobby, but it wasn’t until a chance encounter with Bodhi, the curator of the salon‑slash‑art space The Fluxus House, in 2023, that she got to showcase her early works in public.

The smashing response (she sold nearly everything) encouraged the 25-year-old to follow her heart and apply for residencies. She swiftly secured one in Kyoto and, soon, more industry insiders saw her potential, including the gallerist Lim Chiao Woon of Mr Lim’s Shop of Visual Treasures, who’s known for backing promising young talents.

These days, he represents Dalina and helped clinch her debut at S.E.A. Focus this January, where three‑quarters of her works were snapped up during the VIP preview – impressive for a self‑taught artist who has only been in the scene full‑time since 2025.

It might have to do with how her haunting works – inspired by the themes of love and grief – come across as tender invitations for viewers to pause, feel and sit with emotions that often go unspoken. There’s more to come: She’s in the midst of preparing for her first solo show here, set to take place at Mr Lim’s Shop of Visual Treasures in the latter half of this year. See, sometimes, taking a chance can pay off spectacularly.

Here, Dalina shares more on her craft:

Jewell! What prompted you to switch from the culinary arts to fine arts?

“I used to dream of becoming a chocolatier, and when I eventually reached that goal, I realised there wasn’t much left for me there except repetition. I could either keep working until the passion disappeared or take a risk on what I actually wanted.

Around that time, I met Bodhi, the curator of The Fluxus House, by chance. He invited me to show my early works I did as a hobby in the gallery, and the overwhelmingly positive response gave me enough confidence to leave the culinary world and start applying for residencies to focus on creating.”

What themes or ideas do you find yourself returning to again and again?

“Love and grief. I am drawn to agapi, the highest form of sacrificial love in ancient Greece, and thlipsi, which is grief. I think I always begin by placing my own experiences onto the canvas as an entry point. I want the work to give viewers permission to pause and sit with what they are feeling, rather than trying to resolve it or move past it too quickly. When people tell me they see only grief in my work and not love, I understand where they’re coming from, but for me, to love is to grieve.”

You spent seven years as a chef before going into the fine arts. How has that background influenced your practice?

“I get this question a lot. When I was a chef, I was drawn to the idea of edible art that engaged multiple senses. Food could shape taste, smell, texture, and memory at the same time, and for a period I was even deeply interested in molecular gastronomy.

I suppose instead of the technique, that desire to change someone’s emotional landscape through creation instead of simply being pleasant to the senses stuck with me. But anyway, I also realised I was more absorbed in plating and visual composition than by the act of cooking itself. Over time, I understood that visual art did not need to replicate an immersive, multi-sensory experience in a literal way, as long as I had a clear intention. That realisation played a significant role in my career change.”

Now you’re also represented by Mr Lim’s Shop of Visual Treasures — how did that come about?

“I met an artist named Christine Bay by chance at an exhibition, and she introduced me to Mr Lim. At that point, most of my works were small and experimental, and I didn’t feel ready, so I decided to attend a residency to focus on making art for the first time.

During my first residency in Kyoto, I created a piece titled ‘agape’. When I returned and gave Mr Lim the new works, it sold immediately, and that’s when I realised my dreams of affording dental insurance were within my grasp. Thank you, Mr Lim.”

Is gallery representation still important to an artist today?

“For me, yes. I am not naturally good at self-promotion or navigating the art world on my own. Having a gallerist who understands both the market and my limits has made a real difference. Opportunities like taking part in S.E.A. Focus would have been difficult to access without representation. Beyond logistics, it matters to feel supported by someone who genuinely looks out for your interests.”

Today, artists have to do a lot more self-promotion than ever before, it seems. How do you navigate visibility, social media, and showing your work publicly?

“I dislike social media, even though I recognise its usefulness and how prone I am to doomscrolling. If I could afford to avoid it entirely, I probably would. I am not very disciplined with posting, and my friend Carin is always scolding me to make some TikTok. Sometimes I schizopost my art as a way to cope with the pressure of visibility, though I am still figuring out how to balance that with being taken seriously.”

What’s one question you wish people would ask you about your art?

“‘Is this still available?’ or ‘How much, please?’ Oh, music to my ears, baby!”

What other plans might you have for this year?

“I’m working on new pieces for a solo exhibition in Singapore! Other than that, probably go see a physiotherapist for my back.”

An adapted version of this article first appeared in Volume 7 of F ZINE.