Let's resume the discussion on multiculturalism that we started in April through the interview I conducted with two Malaysian artists: Sumay Cheah and Joël Lim Du Bois.

Here are the previous articles:

Are there still indigenous people in Malaysia? Because for me, as a foreigner, it is not easy to recognize them walking on the streets.

J: Of course, there are, and we are talking about the Orang Asli, which means "original people," and they are the indigenous people of Malaysia. There are some tribes in West Malaysia on the peninsula.

But there are also some in Klang Valley. But there are many more in Borneo, East Malaysia, Sabah, and Sarawak, and they are often recognized by the fact that they still have their stereotypes: they still live in traditional houses, they still do traditional crafts, and they maintain their way of life, their music, their instruments, and all that.

From an ethnological point of view, the main theory about this population is that they were Taiwanese aborigines who migrated by boat along the coast of Southeast Asia, all along the Nusantara Islands, which are Indonesia and Malaysia, up to the South Pacific.

The population of Tahiti is also ethnically Australasian; at least this is the theory that is most accredited. Southeast Asia is the only continent that is based on the sea and not an area or a region of land, where, due to climatic conditions such as the various glaciations or difficulties due to the topographical characteristics of the regions, the colonization of the territories occurred slowly. Here, people moved much more easily and frequently, and this is one of the reasons why we are more heterogeneous.

Do these indigenous people still have their culture, their traditions, and their arts?

S: I know that, for example, they continue to cultivate a technique called "crazy weaving," which is a very difficult skill to acquire. I study a lot of the crafts and weaving in areas like Sabah and Sarawak, East Malaysia, where this type of craft is still very present and practiced.

Maybe the new generations are looking for modernity, but this is true for all of us; we all want an easier and more comfortable life. But I think that these populations are still rooted in their cultures.

I have a friend, Alena Murang, who plays traditional musical instruments, including the sape, a stringed instrument from Borneo.

She is Kelabit (a tribe from Borneo) on her father's side, while her mother is of English and Italian descent, and she has also shared this tribal heritage on her social media. Because she is mixed, they had to fight for land.

Because now, being mixed-race, she is not allowed to own her parents' land or her father's land.

In the case of mixed marriages, the children should be granted Bumiputra (a term for indigenous Malays) status.

I am not sure if they are now allowed to own land from their parents, because recently, a new law on this matter is supposed to have been passed.

J: I think, like everywhere, indigenous cultures are dying. But in Malaysia, there is an effort to preserve them.

S: I was talking to a friend of mine recently, who is of Kadazan (a tribe from Borneo) and who is also part Orang Asli, and he told me that they are basically almost all Christians, whereas before they were animists, praying to plants and nature as a whole. In that sense, unless there is an interest in going back to your roots, you should try to be all connected, because "we" is much more than "I."

You are paying some attention to traditional culture.

S: In my way of making art, the goal is to collaborate and celebrate their culture.

Much also depends on the possibility of getting in touch with the right artisans, those who are most interested in preserving the crafts of the past.

They just want to continue making crafts in the traditional way.

While I was talking to one of these collaborators of mine, a woodcarver, he said to me, "I am the one who brings your vision to life, but I have no interest in being an artist." He is the one who makes what I have in mind possible based on a whole history of craftsmanship, which is expressed in the way he carves wood.

That’s how I understood how I could support their ecosystem. In the same way that Joël documents traditional signs, I feel that, as an artist, I have this role that I want to maintain or preserve.

But I do it by making tradition contemporary. I might turn store signs into large-scale art installations. That’s how I try to serve the community.

Or through collaborations, highlighting, for example, the things that Joël is doing. So, in that sense, I want to create a circular economy.

I could cut bamboo anywhere, and I wouldn't have to pay for it, but I think I felt the need to serve them or even give them power and visibility. Maybe it's not a big project where I use thousands of bamboo. But with small things like this, it goes a long way.

J: You are as much a designer as an artist. So, you have a practical side and an interest in craftsmanship. And handmade is about vision and feeling.

It's also about the materiality of things. The way things are made.

S: So, as an artist, just like Joël said, I try to merge art, design, craftsmanship, and culture.

And they are my favorite topics, as well as creating that slow collaboration that could turn into a very long-term collaboration. Understanding, awareness, and sharing information in the hope that it inspires people to think.

It seems to me, Sumay, that another aspect that connects your work to the way of interpreting life is the latent criticism of society. Because, if I'm not mistaken, the title of your installation is "Oh! Tenang," which means something like "Hey, relax."

S: Yes, it means, "Hey, calm down."

Because the society you live in isn't that relaxed.

S: Yes, you are partly right.

Last year, oh! Tenang was located in a busy and crowded shopping mall. I have always liked to choose spaces that are a kind of tension between crowded and liberating. To enter my installation, you have to look for the entry point; I could have aligned it with the path of entry into the pavilion, but I didn't want to, because only those who seek will find.

And it's just like the road and the journey of life that we take, where there are two paths. Do you want to take the road more travelled or the road less travelled?

And is that the same for you, Joel? You're focusing your attention on something that's disappearing. So, it seems like, in a way, you're saying that what's here today is not as interesting as what was there and is in danger of not being there anymore.

J: Yes, that's one of the messages. We talked before about the cultural dimension, the dimension of the cultural mix, and how that's falling apart, about things that are done by hand rather than things that are done digitally or by machine. But it's not a pure criticism.

It’s not about saying, “OK, modern, contemporary life is terrible, and we need to go back,” because that’s not how it works. What I hope to do, on a broader level, is to shape the way the new generation will perceive themselves. So, if I’m a sign designer and I use digital technology, maybe seeing this exhibition will inspire me to think twice about what I’m doing or where I’m borrowing ideas from. Maybe I’ll realize that I could lean more into a Malaysian or Penang aesthetic, rather than an imported one. Maybe I should think about being inspired by what’s past to shape the way it goes in the future.

I’m probably overambitious, but if you can influence one or two people to change their way of thinking… That’s why Ban Ban Kia, which in Hokkien means “to walk slowly,” is one of our goals: if we can make people slow down and pay attention while walking around Penang, we’ve achieved something. You must be aware of things around you, but you’re going by too fast to notice them.

S: Ultimately, all of these are “shadow stories,” as the show’s title suggests, connecting the past to the present and future.

It seems to me that we think too much and that, in any case, we create our lifestyle and celebrate our culture as we want, because even history, like all personal stories, presents itself in verbal and visual forms.

I think if we are deeply aware that who we are is who we believe we are, that will probably be enough.

This concludes my interview with Sumay Cheah and Joël Lim Du Bois, two very interesting Malaysian artists inspired by the history and traditions of the various peoples who share the same Malaysian territory.

One of the conclusions that can be drawn from this meeting is that peaceful coexistence between different cultures is not only desirable but also possible. And this is not only the case in Malaysia but also in India, where different populations, cultures, and religions have coexisted and influenced each other for several hundred years.

And the same thing happens in Europe, only we don't pay attention to it anymore, but, starting from the use of Anglo-Saxon terms to move on to culinary contamination, fashion, and much more, it is difficult to distinguish what is peculiar to a nation, a territory, or the result of their combination. And this has always happened: even our beloved Italian language is made up of terms that come from Arabic, French, Sanskrit, and who knows how many other sources.

This is even more true today, where distances have been eliminated by the Internet, where everything is available with a simple click.

After all, nature itself teaches us that everything is contamination, everything is connected, and there are no insurmountable barriers, but the complexity of life is possible precisely thanks to this constant passage of information between different beings who share the same spaces and the same environment.

But…

Oh yes, there is a but, or rather, at least a couple.

The first is not inherent in human nature but is generated by the convenience of some to the detriment of many. And who has the power to influence people to their benefit if not politics? And this also happens, not only in Malaysia.

In addition to the two brilliant artists of George Town, during my stay, I had the opportunity to meet several people from the Malaysian cultural milieu, and many of them showed me a less idyllic picture than the one that at first sight presents itself to a foreign visitor.

They asked to remain anonymous because “The underlying tension between different cultures, as well as the criticism of politics, is something we do not verbalize, because in Malaysia we are not always free to say what we think.”

“Penang, but in general, Malaysia, I should say, has changed a lot; it is becoming more and more divided socially and politically. And the different groups, which in Malaysia are clearly defined by race and religion, are forced to take different directions. For example, in the age of the Internet, the Muslim side is increasingly influenced by the forms of extremist Islam from the Middle East.”

“The Malay Chinese communities, which were once identified as Hokkien, Cantonese, Hakka, and Teochew, have always been separate, maintaining their own identity while being part of a larger Chinese community. But the various governments have managed to make the entire world believe that there is only one Chinese people and that all Chinese are equal, which is not true.

Even Indian Tamil communities are increasingly looking to India, which is changing rapidly under the Modi government that is celebrating a Hindu identity for the Indian people.”

“Some time ago, I was dating a Malay girl who one day introduced me to her family. They didn’t like me; in fact, they did everything to dissuade their daughter from dating me because I am of Chinese origin. In Muslim culture, you can’t just date; you have to get married, but you have to marry the right person, that is, a Muslim.”

“There are Malay stereotypes about Chinese, Chinese stereotypes about Malays, Indians, and everyone else. So, there are tensions that play out daily.

This has been happening since the 1980s, when politicians began using race to create divisions and secure power.”

I have been visiting the Asian continent for forty years, and particularly India, where I have seen with my own eyes how politics creates division instead of encouraging unity in diversity. I have seen Hindus go to the homes of Muslim families and friends to pay their respects during 'Id al-Adha and be welcomed as true friends. I have personally spoken with the major Muslim authorities in some states of northern India, who have proven to be much more open than certain Italians who profess to be anti-racist.

But the current Modi government is throwing away hundreds of years of coexistence between different cultures and ethnic groups, professing the advent of a Hindu state, where other religions will be banned, including Christianity.

India, Malaysia, not to mention Israel and Palestine, but isn’t the same thing happening in the United States with Trump and his “policy” on immigrants?

And here I come to the second “but”.

If politics finds fertile ground to foment hatred between different cultures, isn't it because distrust, not to mention fear, towards "the other" is an integral part of human nature? Perhaps for purely genetic reasons, for the preservation and continuation of our DNA, of our hereditary line, a legacy of our primordial being that still today, in moments of crisis, comes back to haunt us, not necessarily out of malice or bad faith. Something that we share with the other living beings on this planet who, to paraphrase Stephen Hawking, take so many pains to continue existing, to carry forward their genes.

Maybe God doesn't want us all the same; maybe finding a balance between annihilating the other and falling madly in love with him (that is, abandoning extremism) could allow us to learn to find unity in diversity, to reconcile me with you, despite our differences, but without denying them, simply observing them, making our own those elements that I lack but that you have and that could help me evolve. Recognizing that we are different, but not for this reason making war on each other, but on the contrary, making sure that these differences help us grow, understand each other, and comprehend each other.

I am not an Inuit, but I am very interested in knowing their way of interpreting life. I want to know how they think about different subjects and what tools their ancestors gave them to survive in the middle of the ice. And this is without thinking that he and I are the same, because that is not the case.

A provocation? Maybe, but I prefer to see it as the starting point of a different and more sincere coexistence.