“Sometimes, it's necessary to reflect on the past in order to progress. Here, ‘distance’ refers to the space that exists between what has happened and what is yet to come.”—Willy Tay

CNTRFLD. The Solo Show: "Distance Resonance"

Willy, your upcoming solo exhibition at iPreciation, Distance Resonance, opening April 13th, explores the "enduring imprint" of colonial histories on Singapore. Your work often feels like a bridge between memory and myth—how did the title of this show come to be, and what does "distance" mean to you in the context of painting these textured canvases?

WT. Sometimes, it's necessary to reflect on the past in order to progress. Here, "distance" refers to the space that exists between what has happened and what is yet to come. This space allows accumulated knowledge to influence the present and provides opportunities to make choices by considering previous experiences. I'm especially intrigued by these intervals, as there are numerous ways to interpret history and countless possibilities for shaping the future based on those interpretations.

CNTRFLD. The Weight of the Canvas

The media release describes your work as "sites of tension" where the colonial gaze is unsettled. For the aspiring painters reading this, could you walk us through your physical process? How do you use texture and the medium of oil to represent something as heavy and complex as "accumulated histories"?

WT. Paintings are illusory, and I enjoy the idea of contradiction. At first glance, the surface may seem textured, but the paint is actually applied flatly, leaving it physically smooth overall. This contrast helps express that, although the themes can be challenging and complex, they can also be easily overlooked—much like a polished marble countertop. I find this tension captivating, particularly as perspectives are rarely strictly binary.

CNTRFLD. Notable Milestones

Looking back at your trajectory—from showing at Osage in Hong Kong to the Jinji Lake Art Museum in Suzhou and your recent presence at ART SG 2025—how has your perspective on the "migrant condition" evolved? Is there a particular past work or exhibition that you feel was the true "turning point" for the themes we see in your work today?

WT. From 2004 to 2012, my work primarily explored abstract styles; however, I increasingly found this approach inadequate for expressing my ideas. The 2014 exhibition marked a significant turning point, initiating my transition from abstraction to figuration after experimenting with various techniques.

My current approach to work presents some challenges due to old habits; previously, I relied heavily on intuition and seldom planned my compositions. Now, I need to carefully consider my creative process before I begin. Despite this shift, I feel both satisfied and fulfilled with the new direction.

CNTRFLD. Roots & Influence

You graduated from LASALLE in the mid-90s before heading to RMIT in Melbourne for your Bachelor’s and Master’s. Thinking back to your upbringing and childhood in Singapore, were there specific "fragments" of the city’s architecture or social rhythm that stayed with you and eventually pushed you toward a life in fine art?

WT. I was raised in a household with little exposure to art, particularly fine art. My earliest encounters with art were limited to observing the wall murals at the Chinese temple my mother frequently visited. A friend’s recommendation led me to study at LASALLE, where I developed an interest in Fine Art.

CNTRFLD. Identity as a Negotiation

Your work suggests that belonging is an "ongoing negotiation." How has your own sense of identity shifted through the years of living and studying between Singapore and Australia? Does the version of "Willy Tay" that paints in the studio today feel different from the one who first started exploring postcolonial desire?

WT. Since 2004, I have been working in China, frequently moving between two different places. This experience has profoundly influenced me, encouraging deeper reflection on my identity and heritage. Before this, while in Singapore, I seldom considered these issues—perhaps because there was a familiar, shared sense of heritage that seemed ordinary. 

As the sole foreigner among my Chinese peers, conversations about nationality often emerged. I felt embarrassed by how little I knew about my own country's history; my knowledge was limited to basic dates and key events. Meanwhile, my friends had a much more thorough and analytical grasp of their nation's past, along with a strong national identity. This is based on my assumption, partly due to China’s continuous historical lineage and rich traditions stretching back thousands of years.

Being a third-generation immigrant of Chinese descent in Singapore, I find myself in a somewhat awkward position. My ancestral roots are firmly planted in China, yet my sense of self is shaped by the life I’ve led in Singapore. This duality gradually inspired me to begin my journey where it feels most genuine: developing a critical understanding of the history of the place I grew up.

Exploring Singapore’s past becomes meaningful for me to reconcile the complex relationship between heritage and identity.