This Young Artist Confronts Difficult Lived Experiences Through Her Photographs
The Gen Z image maker expresses her own sense of loss from her grandfather’s passing in her photobook 'Materiality of Grief'.
Grief is a complex thing. For young visual artist Cheryl Yip, art has become her outlet to process emotions that are typically hard to confront – especially when stoicism reigns as a common mindset to overcome loss. That experience is evident in the recent work of this final-year student of fine arts in photography and digital imaging from the School of Art, Design and Media at Nanyang Technological University (NTU).
Her photography book Materiality of Grief – only 10 was published in April and they have since sold out – encapsulates this sense of loss she feels after her grandfather's death. The work stood out among the other ones produced by young local artists this year for the vulnerable subject matter it articulated; from the layout to the treatment of the photographs, everything reflected Yip's grieving process authentically.
Materiality of Grief is encased in a booksleeve made from handsewn linen.
Materiality of Grief was resurrected recently during the Singapore International Photo Festival 2022 (SIPF), which ran from Sep to Oct. For those who have missed out on the showcase, the work will be presented at *Scape's Creative Arts Festival, which runs from Dec 16 to Jan 9. It will be exhibited once again at the *Scape building, during Singapore Art Week 2023, from Jan 6 to Jan 15.
"I hope the work would encourage people to engage in more conversations about grief, be it everyday discussions or dialogues in artworks. I think nothing is too personal to be an artwork, and it is always compelling to see and share different experiences," she says. Below, FEMALE talks to Yip about her approach to making images and the message she intends to convey through her craft.
You’ve used your photography as a channel to deconstruct your own grief over your grandfather’s death. How has that helped you on a personal level?
"I never expected to make a work about my grandfather’s passing, simply because it was too heavy and personal. I find it difficult to express my grief and vulnerability in front of people, creating Materiality of Grief and using photography as a medium has given me this outlet to be able to express the loss and also materialise what I was feeling then. I think the relationship between photography and grief is also very closely intertwined. Photography immortalises a moment and of a person, and this picture would outlive one’s lifespan. These images that are left would serve as mementoes but also reminders of their absence. The photobook emulates a letter to my grandfather, but instead of words, the language used was photographs – as it was the form of communication I knew best. Through the process of creating this work, it gave me closure."
Why have you adopted using your own personal emotions as a starting point for your works? Is that important to you as an artist?
"I think it is important for an artist to feel strongly about something in order to be sensitive to things and be able to express and communicate them. Prior to creating the Materiality of Grief (pictured), I attempted to create works about grief and death without talking about my personal experiences and it has always fallen short. It was then that I realised I had to really be vulnerable and tackle my own grief head-on before I could progress. In order for me to go forward, I had to first accept and express my emotions, unfiltered."
Materiality of Grief was shown in Singapore International Photography Festival. What were some of the reactions that were memorable to you?
"Each photo book is handmade and I released the first edition of 10 which was sold out at the Photobook Market under THEBOOKSHOW during the SIPF (pictured). The festival received both local and international patrons, and someone who came down from Japan bought the book. This is very significant for me as a young artist that someone globally has seen my work and is able to relate to it, showing that grief is a universal experience and photography is a shared language. A photo book can be a very intimate medium, and I am extremely touched by everyone who has bought the book, a little of me is with all of you!"
This sense of loss in your work is universal and relevant to the human experience globally. What do you hope to convey to the audience that sees your work globally?
"More than just grief as a universal experience and thinking about love after death, the photobook also hints at the ageing population and the loss of the body through fire. Many other countries are also opting for cremation due to land scarcity as a utilitarian way of handling the dead. I was unable to comprehend the sudden loss of the body — from flesh to ash — and it affected my grieving process as well, and I saw cremation as the most violent way of treating the body after death. This was subtly referenced in Materiality of Grief and I am further expanding this in a year-long project that surveys land and death in the context of Singapore."
All aspects of the printed version of Materiality of Grief – from the material used in the book to the editing of the pictures – are all carefully considered by you to emulate the sense of loss. Could you tell us more about your process in conceptualising the book?
"The book employs autoethnography using solarised prints (pictured) with archive images. Approaching grief as a topic, it only made sense for the images to be distorted. Through the uncontrolled, exhaustively repeated action of solarisation in the darkroom, the process of constructing the distorted images suggests the physical and emotional effects wrought by loss. In my practice, the process of creating the images is very important to me as well — instead of just visualising loss I wanted it to be embodied even in the process of printing the images.
Accompanying the solarised images are archive photographs, text messages, and obituary information hidden in the French folds of the book that emphasises memory and references the passing of time. The book is also packaged to look like a letter, dedicated to my grandfather."