On Penang's art scene, collecting and patronage
By Ian Tee

This article is a preview of the content published in CHECK-IN 2025, A&M’s annual publication. Stay tuned for the launch of the print edition and e-publication in June.

Leong Kwong Yee is founder of the independent art platform Blank Canvas in Penang. Born out of a can-do spirit and a desire to contribute to the local ecosystem, Blank Canvas aims to be a bridge between Penang and the international contemporary art world. I invite Kwong Yee to reflect on Blank Canvas’s mission and programming, as its third anniversary draws near. In this conversation, we discuss how the platform is an extension of his collecting journey, his learnings from running an exhibition space, and what patronage means.

Trevor Yeung, ‘a friendly distance’, 2023, exhibition view at Blank Canvas. Image courtesy of the artist. — Trevor Yeung, *a friendly distance*, 2023, exhibition view at Blank Canvas. Image courtesy of the artist.

I would like to begin this interview with an invitation to reflect on Blank Canvas’s beginnings in 2022. What was a key question you hoped to ask or test through the space?

When I came back to Malaysia after 30 years, I saw something was missing in terms of the types of art spaces and discussions happening here as compared to what I was exposed to through international travel. Blank Canvas was an experiment where I asked myself: what can I do? It is a process of discovery. Even in life, I am not one of those people who have clear end goals. I always say that I cross the river by feeling the rocks; and it starts with taking the first step.

The experiment was to try something new for Penang and see what impact it can create. For example, prior to Blank Canvas, there had not been a non-commercial white cube art space. I am also learning what is required to run a space, but one of the mandates is to be in conversation with the international art world. There are three parties in this dynamic: myself, Penang, and the art world, or at least the aspect of the art world I am more familiar with.

In your interview with Art Basel, you noted that “Blank Canvas is another facet of collecting.” Could you elaborate on what you mean? How would you describe the relationship between Blank Canvas and your collecting journey?

Collecting is very personal. In that interview, I shared how I started collecting out of love because I was in a relationship with somebody and we were very different. I have been collecting for 20 years and at some point, I had to ask myself: where is all this heading? Building a collection requires space for all these works. It sounds cliché but I am taking care of the artworks on behalf of the artists. Taking care is not just keeping the works in a safe condition; it is about sharing it too. Blank Canvas is one way I am sharing what I have with people. I feel the need to do so in Penang to expose audiences to different ideas and forms, and a bigger sense of purpose is tied to my collecting journey.

At the same time, Blank Canvas allows me to have different kinds of conversations with artists, curators, and other stakeholders. As a collector, you collect and that might be the best thing you can do. But with an art space, I feel that the conversation has broadened in a way that is richer. Some artists have no works to sell, or their price points are too high. I can talk about projects, and not just acquisitions, so there are multiple points of entry and engagement with an art practice. Artists can come, visit, maybe do a show, or do nothing. In a way, Blank Canvas gave me more confidence to say “okay, I am a collector”.

“Blank Canvas is one way I am sharing what I have with people. I feel the need to do so in Penang to expose audiences to different ideas and forms, and a bigger sense of purpose is tied to my collecting journey.”

‘Void’, 2025, exhibition view at Hin Bus Depot, Penang, Malaysia. Photo by Thum Chia Chieh. — *Void*, 2025, exhibition view at Hin Bus Depot, Penang, Malaysia. Photo by Thum Chia Chieh.

To dwell on that topic, artworks from your personal collection are featured in the exhibition Void (2025) at Hin Bus Depot. What was the curatorial process like for this show?

Going back to basics, I wanted to collaborate with Hin Bus Depot. It is a challenging venue for exhibitions because it is an open-air space. The building conditions are completely different from Blank Canvas, where we previously showed some of my collection, and where we could create a controlled environment for the artworks. There were a few key guiding principles during the curatorial process. Firstly, it needed to be artworks we have not shown before. Second, the works had to be suitable for Hin Bus Depot’s semi-outdoor environment. They should be hardy materials that could get dirty. Another thing I insisted on was to feature very few works, in line with what we have been doing at Blank Canvas. Hin Bus Depot is a voluminous space, so the exhibitions there tend to have more works. I edited the selection with these principles in mind.

Finally, there was the title. I am still learning how to come up with titles when curating a show, and I liked the idea of using the title of one of the artworks. We did that in a prior show called And My Said, and it came from Tino Sehgal’s work. In this Hin Bus Depot show, Void is Joshua Serafin’s video and it is an incredibly beautiful and important work for the artist. I think it is also representative of the types of narratives and conversations emerging from our region.

Are there any lessons from your work as a management consultant which you apply in the operation of Blank Canvas?

Oh yes, lots! As a management consultant, I help companies change or manage change. One of the things I put in place here is this idea of community building and collaboration. It is about harnessing collective intelligence and community effort. A culture is built by communities within the organisation. This is easy to say but very hard to do, because the community needs to be self-governing from the bottom up. I think in Asia we are used to a top-down pyramid structure where the person on top “leads”. But what I hope to build is a system where we do not need the same leader all the time. Everybody is self-driven and contributes. I think there is something beautiful about Penang, because we have a strong sense of community. Everyone is genuinely friendly, and I hope you experience this during your time here.

Another aspect is planning and thinking ahead which is what global companies do. At Blank Canvas, we plan at least a year ahead which is very different from how other organisations and art spaces are run here. These two things are directly connected to my job.

‘Palai Penang’ (2024), a group exhibition organised by Galerie Balice Hertling and Blank Canvas, at Homestead, a heritage mansion in Penang, Malaysia. Image courtesy of Blank Canvas. — *Palai Penang* (2024), a group exhibition organised by Galerie Balice Hertling and Blank Canvas, at Homestead, a heritage mansion in Penang, Malaysia. Image courtesy of Blank Canvas.

Blank Canvas collaborated with Paris-based Galerie Balice Hertling on Palai Penang which happened from 22 March to 14 April 2024. What did you and the team learn from the project?

Palai was an opportunity with the gallery’s co-founder Daniele Balice, who is a friend. Daniele already ran two editions of Palai in Italy and wanted to explore doing it in Penang together. The premise of Palai is to present international contemporary artworks in heritage homes, and we had access to Homestead which is a historic mansion in George Town, Penang. Thousands of visitors came to see the show and they appreciated this discussion between Penang architecture and contemporary art.

We learnt that exhibitions can go beyond visual art. It can be experiential and connect many narratives. Another big lesson was the need to focus as we were very ambitious with the number of galleries last year. The edit could have been tighter and perhaps we needed a stronger curatorial angle. We were planning another edition of Palai Penang again this year, but it became incredibly difficult to pull off. I think we approached the first one with so much innocence. It is like when a singer’s first album was a hit, and it is much harder to follow up on that. I do not know if there will be a second album so to speak, or a second version of Palai.

However, the lessons from this project inform how we approach future exhibitions such as Void at Hin Bus Depot, and our collaboration with artists. We are constantly learning and reflecting on what the local art ecosystem needs, and how what we do connects internationally. Again, this goes back to the three parties I mentioned earlier: Blank Canvas, Penang, and the international art world. We are trying to see how it can be a two-way conversation.

‘The Return of Raja Durian’, 2024, curated by Yu Cheng-Ta and Louis Ho, at Blank Canvas. Image courtesy of Blank Canvas. — *The Return of Raja Durian*, 2024, curated by Yu Cheng-Ta and Louis Ho, at Blank Canvas. Image courtesy of Blank Canvas.

How do you evaluate the impact of Blank Canvas and projects such as Palai Penang?

This is a difficult question we ask ourselves a lot as a non-commercial space. For a gallery, one might look at revenue and profitability. A museum might look at visitor numbers. We do track the numbers as an indicator but I would say we rely more on qualitative feedback. That said, it is tough, because in Penang, everyone is very polite. There are some individuals whom I trust and solicit their comments, such as artists who visit most of our shows. Within my international network, there are maybe four or five people who are my mentors, and I check in with them. At the moment, it is still subjective. I try to romanticise it by saying if we made an impact on one person who decided to make a big life decision based on an exhibition they saw, that would be enough.

Another indicator of our impact is to see if people want to work with us. For example, if we invite an artist to do a project together and the response is “maybe next time” or some kind of “yes, but no”. That says a lot too. We are quite lucky that so far it has been a unanimous yes from collaborators.

That said, I would like to explore ways we could be more accessible. For a space like Blank Canvas, with the programme we run, it can still be daunting even though we are open to everyone. The challenge is to remain true to our voice while being welcoming. As part of trying to meet audiences where they are, the second chapter of Blank Canvas will be at a more accessible part of town. We have learnt so much from the first three years here and look forward to experimenting in a new space. Perhaps our programme would also evolve with the change of environment.

‘⏊IWE’, 2024, curated by Christina Li, after her residency with Blank Canvas. Image courtesy of Blank Canvas. — *⏊IWE*, 2024, curated by Christina Li, after her residency with Blank Canvas. Image courtesy of Blank Canvas.

Lastly, what does patronage mean or look like to you?

Patronage means so many different things to people. But for me, it means becoming friends. I have a very interesting relationship with the artist Trevor Yeung, and it is a special one because he is also our first artist-in-residence. We have become great friends and I want him to be successful. I think that strong feeling goes beyond patronage.

For me, this is a great question because I blur the lines. People such as Trevor, and curator Christina Li, who is our second resident; they are family now. Thinking about it carefully, this is scary because it is so personal. Blank Canvas’ artists-in-residence live in my house. I am interested in people and that is a way into their practice. I think that is my tendency to open my life to an artist, and that relationship becomes much richer than just collecting art.

This article is a preview of the content published in CHECK-IN 2025, A&M’s annual publication. Stay tuned for the launch of the print edition and e-publication in June.