Xuan Yeo
Interview | Raymond Wong
X | Xuan / M | MEMO
M | Can you briefly introduce yourself?
X | My name is Xuan. I’m an artist from Singapore and Malaysia, currently living in London.
M | What do you do?
X | I primarily work in textiles, but I’ve been branching out into interdisciplinary practices. My work revolves around themes of home, grief, and memory, drawing heavily from Buddhist philosophy. I explore concepts like karma, the interim state, and feminine time—particularly the idea that time isn’t linear but circular. I’m also part of a textile collective called Silkworm Collective. We’re a group of textile artists who work across various mediums. We run workshops in London, focusing on education, skill-building, and artistic support. We have an upcoming show in January at APT Gallery in Deptford, near Goldsmiths. Currently, we also have a residency spot at Goldsmiths CCA. Our collective’s main goal is to provide support for ourselves and other artists in London’s challenging art scene. It’s meaningful because genuine artistic support isn’t easy to come by—even in university settings. In our collective, we have open discussions and constructive feedback, which have profoundly influenced my work since graduating.
M | When did you start considering yourself an artist?
X | I think anyone who makes art can call themselves an artist. It’s not an exclusive title. That said, working in art is a whole different challenge—it’s incredibly tough. But creating art? That’s something primal and essential. That belief drives our workshops. I think it’s important for everyone to create, to tap into that part of their brain that making art activates. It’s a deeply human experience.
M | Why do you make art?
X | There are many reasons. My parents were in creative fields—they studied fine art—so I grew up around it. When I was five, I told my mom I wanted to be homeless and paint on the streets. She nearly lost it! Initially, making art was a way to process emotions. But I learned that relying on art solely for emotional processing isn’t sustainable. What happens when you’re in a good place? You can’t make art? That shift in perspective allowed me to create even when I wasn’t in a state of grief or sadness. Now, making art is about the process. It’s tactile and meditative, a way to ground myself. It’s healthy for my mind and body, and it’s also deeply satisfying to create something tangible.
M | Where does your inspiration come from?
X | I’m heavily inspired by space. My works are often installations tailored to specific locations. I aim to create environments where viewers can immerse themselves, step out of their time-space, and reconfigure their perspective. For me, it’s about manipulating time and space—both in my process and for the audience. Working on something for 40 hours takes you out of your reality, and I want viewers to experience a similar transformation within the spaces I create.
M | How do you see yourself in the future?
X | I’m heading back to Singapore in June to get a teaching diploma—I want to teach. I don’t see myself staying in one place for too long; six years is probably my limit. This restlessness might be tied to my family’s diasporic history. Migration and adapting to new environments feel natural to me. Being in a foreign place often turns your focus back to where you came from, creating a cyclical relationship with time and space. I don’t think I’ll ever truly settle down, marry, or have kids—I just can’t stay rooted in one place. For me, life is about continuously exploring and redefining what home means in new contexts.
Xuan is a Singaporean-Malaysian textile artist whose practices aim to activate meditative environments that underscore the extreme labour-intensiveness of their making. Through hand-woven textiles, perfumery, and installation, her work focuses on material origin and her matrilineal heritage, seeing through processes in karmic cycles and memory.
www.xuanyeo.com | IG: shoooannnn