Alison Lo in Conversation with Artist Wallace Chan
Acclaimed for his jewellery creations, including A New Generation in The British Museum’s permanent collection, Wallace Chan’s latest sculptural exhibition TITANS – A Dialogue Between Materials, Space and Time at Canary Wharf honours his passion for titanium and showcases his meticulous craftsmanship and unwavering innovation. Ever thirsty for rediscovering and recreating himself and the world around him, his artworks are made to stand the test of time. His philosophies, wisdom, and perseverance in both art and life add a compelling layer of texture to his sculptures.
To date, Chan is the only artist to master titanium in artworks of such unprecedented combinations of colour, scale, and complex form. TITANS XIV, a 5-metre high monolithic sculpture, is situated in Cabot Square alongside the works of renowned sculptors Henry Moore and Lynn Chadwick.
On his recent visit to London, we sat down with the artist to delve into his creative process and life’s journey through materials, space, and time. When asked what legacy he wishes to leave on Earth, he softly revealed his modest wish: to be remembered as “someone who thought it worthy to spend a lifetime on creating art.”
Wallace Chan at TOTEM exhibition at Fondaco Marcello in Venice, 2022. Photo by Giacomo Cosua.
“Time does not wait. At 65 years old, time only goes faster every day. I live to create and create to live. To me, the creative process is no different from food and oxygen.”
Alison Lo: What kind of dialogues do you wish to develop amongst materials, space, and time with this collection of sculptures?
Wallace Chan: Without materials, time and space are meaningless. When I was finally admitted to a rooftop school at 11 years old, my mother bought me my school uniform. The pair of shorts was so long that it looked like a pair of trousers. She bought it a few sizes bigger, thinking that I could continue to wear it as I grew taller so she could save some money. In the end, it didn’t matter, as I had to quit school and start working in just two years. Whenever I think about it, I think about how materials are constantly measured against time and space, and vice versa. It is fairly obvious that sculptures are often placed to distort or alter our interaction with the space they occupy, but if we pay attention to the materials that embody the sculptures, it is always about time.
AL: Titanium is a radical choice of material in sculpture making. Can you tell us more about your discovery of, experimentation with, and mastery of titanium?
WC: I read about titanium in a newspaper article back in the early 2000s. It was an article about the pacemaker, a medical device for the heart. I was immediately intrigued. At that time, I was looking for a metal that could realise my visions in jewellery, a metal that could be turned into light but a strong structure for my stones. When I saw that titanium was not only light and strong but also biofriendly and colourful, I decided to give it a go. It took me eight years to “tame” titanium because it is stubborn and rigid. It comes with a melting point of 1700 degrees Celsius and strong memory. One can imagine how difficult it is to find a material that can withstand the heat and become its mould, let alone carving on it and inspiring natural colour gradient on it. The complex, difficult, and time-consuming process explains why titanium is rarely used in art. It is a popular metal for the science, aerospace, and medical sectors, but its potential has yet to be fully explored. Every artist has their own ideal for art. My whole life, I have only ever wanted to create things that are meant to last–to stand the test of time. This idea is reflected by the materials I use. Titanium, to me, is a natural choice. I don’t follow specific rules when it comes to the creative process. If I have to hammer or carve on a piece of titanium to get the lines, forms, and shapes in my mind, I’ll just do it. If I have to assemble a large-scale titanium sculpture like setting a piece of jewellery, so be it. As mentioned, titanium is rigid. Even at its melting point, it is reluctant to move. But with my sculptures, I strive to convey a sense of fluidity and rhythm with titanium, creating the illusion that shaping the metal is as easy as twisting a towel. Only people who know the metal will know the truth.
Wallace Chan’s TITANS XIV in Cabot Square, 2022.
A: Iron is a secondary material to titanium in your sculptures. How does the chemistry between the two materials inject texture into your artworks?
WC: Yin and Yang, that we always talk about. It is my idea of dualism. Opposites come together to construct a balance, a sense of elegance and eternity. Iron is passionate–it mingles with other elements, in the air and in its surroundings, such as humidity. And so it rusts. Titanium is cool and calm, it doesn’t like to engage. So it doesn’t seem to oxidate. It is always very composed. Iron is strong, but weaker, softer and heavier than titanium. Titanium is much stronger than iron, but it is light. I like to take the characteristics of iron, give them to titanium, and the other way round. Titanium is the softer, less rigid metal here, emitting an airy aura. It is the face, the head. Iron becomes the body, the stronger structure that carries all weight, so it seems. I imagine that, in a few hundred years, the iron will rust away. The heads will fall. It is to say that the idea of eternity becomes quite fragile if we stretch the timeline long enough.
AL: The titanium heads in some sculptures such as in TITANS V are intercepted with iron girders, opening up spaces in the mind. Can you share your ideas behind such interruption or liberation?
WC: A lot of the inspiration for my work comes from my experience in meditation. I was a monk for six months in 2001 after I completed the Great Stupa for Taiwan’s Foguangshan (the Buddhist Mountain). When I meditated, I kept seeing different versions of myself, big and small, appearing, disappearing, and reappearing. I tried to put my many selves back into my one self. My curator James Putnam told me that what I have depicted with my sculptures is similar to the Droste effect. I am amused by it as when I worked on the imagery, I was just trying to convey my meditation experience of the mind stripping off the body.
AL: You see jewellery as the medium for the human spirit, displayed on the human body. In the same vein, what do you see in sculptures in relation to their surrounding environment–especially for your TITANS collection and its public exhibition at Canary Wharf?
WC: If I may, I would say sculptures are the jewels for architecture and nature. The main difference between my jewellery and my sculptures are simply just the materials and scales. I work on each piece of work, be it a piece of jewellery or a sculpture, with the same level of thought and dedication. We often hear people say that they need to go into nature for a retreat. They need somewhere quiet, for example, they need to go into a temple, to meditate. But I feel that to be truly at peace with oneself has more to do with your inner world than the outer environment. If one wishes to practice calming the heart and mind, there is no better place to do it than here and now. It shouldn’t matter where one is. Canary Wharf is a financial centre. It reminds me a lot of Central in Hong Kong, where my studio is. I love the energy. One Canada Square, in particular, is the lobby of a financial building. It is not a constructed, manipulated exhibition space, but I quite like the contrast of my TITANS against the backdrop of the hustle and bustle in the district. Public space is always intriguing to me because it’s wide open and for the people. It is much about freedom. Canary Wharf has perhaps the most significant public art programme in London. I am humbled and honoured to be exhibiting my sculptures in the district and I am very thankful to James Putnam and Keith Watson.
Wallace Chan, TITANS V, 2022.
AL: Apart from materials, do you consider light to be an instrumental element in the interpretation of your sculptures?
WC: My relationship with stones over the past five decades has given me an obsession with light and shadow. I am very particular when it comes to light. When the sculptures were exhibited in Fondaco Marcello in Venice last year, I put a lot of emphasis on the light. When I photographed my sculptures, I photographed them under natural light. We had to place the sculptures on a trolley and chase the sun. Light is everywhere. Light can always be an artist’s instrument. When I carve on the titanium, the carving lines are more or less light paths, without which there would not be any contrast or drama.
AL: The faces of the sculptures look peaceful and calm despite the interference of flowers, wind, water and iron, etc. Do these sculptures reflect yourself as the creator, or are they born out of a life of their own?
WC: We are all but the product of our own doing. My experiences and memories in the past will always appear in my creative process and become part of my work. But once an artwork leaves the studio, it takes on a life of its own. It’s a constant process of giving all of yourself to your work, letting it all go at the end, and doing it all over again.
Wallace Chan and the Wallace Cut, invented in 1987.
AL: You reference the Wallace Cut in TITANS I. Is the technical precision required for sculpture different from that of working with gemstones?
WC: The Wallace Cut holds a special place in my development as a carver and sculptor. It was through the invention of the Wallace Cut in 1987 that I discovered the incredible joy of innovation and making the impossible possible. I also confirmed that for my creations, I could always push myself and there was almost no limit to how far I could be pushed. TITANS I is a direct reference to the Wallace Cut, which shows five faces floating inside a transparent gemstone. Only the face in the middle is carved, the other four faces are reflections. TITANS I shows eight faces, some of them reliefs and some intaglios. It is, of course, different from the Wallace Cut in terms of techniques, but I tried to capture the feeling of a serene state of existence.
Wallace Chan at TITANS – A Dialogue Between Materials, Space and Time in Canary Wharf, 2022.
AL: As an unstoppable innovator, can you give us a sneak peek into your next big creative project?
WC: I always have many projects at the same time because, to me, the creative process is not linear. It is all over the place. It is chaotic and full of surprises. My next exhibition TOTEM will be at Fondaco Marcello in Venice from 20 April to 23 October 2022. It is an installation of my 10-metre sculpture in its unassembled state. The exhibition addresses the uncertainty we have been facing in this world. A totem usually refers to a guardian or ancestral spirit and connects to the belief that the universe and everything in nature has a soul. My materials, my sculptures–they are not lifeless objects. They are my connection to the universe.
Thanks to Wallace Chan on behalf of MADE IN BED.
TITANS – A Dialogue Between Materials, Space and Time is on view until 8 April in the lobby of One Canada Square & Cabot Square in London’s Canary Wharf.
In collaboration with Cherry Rao, Heritage Communications Director of Wallace Chan International Limited.
Alison Lo
Contributing Writer, MADE IN BED