Down to a Fine Art

Samantha Lim sits down with Aliya and Farouk Khan assess the cultural cost of their colossal collection, which goes far beyond economic value

Two minutes on foot from the office, the Khan residence is an art lover’s Xanadu— a place where both aesthetic beauty and deep intellect come into play. The Khans and I stroll from room to room, them playing the role of well-versed ‘gallery attendants’ and I, the awestruck guest. Kuala Lumpur, the couple opines, is such a cauldron of contemporary art—first generation contemporary art, to be more specific—much of which is wrought by non-nationals, expatriates or foreigners. “It’s often the outsiders who can look in and see what truly is in front of your eyes all along,” remarks Aliya sagely. Her usage of ‘your’ rather than ‘our’ strikes me as curious, and then I recall reading somewhere that the couple once lived in Singapore. They confirm this fact: respectively born in Pakistan and Singapore, Aliya and Farouk moved to Malaysia permanently in 1995. Like the artists whom they invest in, the Khans are highly cognisant of and curious about the nation’s goings-on. “We learned a lot about Malaysian society through our collection,” says the missus. And I inquire what that might be. society into today’s modern society has met a lot of resistance. There was such a strong emergence of the middle class that it’s a struggle for the elite to comprehend the entirety of the situation.” “Artists address this on a macro basis,” interjects Aliya. “Because the development of their brains is different, they see the big picture. They are always reflecting on urbanisation and its repercussions. It is then up to us to analyse the subliminal messages.” The couple’s message is this: Less soothsayers and more scribes, contemporary Malaysian artists are carrying out the crucial role of historical documentation. “For instance, when I first moved to Malaysia in the early 90s, friends would say, ‘I’m going out for a Today everybody wants to drink a cappuccino— even the office girl wants a cappuccino!” titters Aliya. Her large kohl-rimmed eyes dart around the room before resting on a canvas. “This whole mindset is encapsulated by Azad Daniel, a young artist in his thirties.” She waves at the artwork which portrays a pixelated bot. ‘Space Invaders’, she explains, is a double entendre alluding to the 1978 arcade game as well as foreign influences that are permeating Malaysian life. Often fêted for its sheer scale, the AFK Collection encompasses some 1,223 titled works today, but many discount its ‘knowledge value’. The art cognoscenti are certain of one thing: that their collection captures the root of today’s revolution. “After all,” booms Farouk. “History is a study of the past and art is a study of the present.”

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