Exhibition 16 May - 12 June 2025
The weight of grief. Collective trauma occurs when an entire generation lives through a traumatic event together. This profound sense of collective sadness, and sense of loss has compelled me to embark on a project of creating a mourning coat and a series of drawings and photographs. This project allows me to express my empathy and channel my energy during this difficult time around the world as we are witnessing, and to our shared humility, which connects us in our collective grief.
This exhibition, curated and organised by the artist, was presented in an unoccupied shop on Caine Road in Hong Kong.
The Mourning Coat, 2025. Claire Lee 117 x 60 x 28cm (estimated, costume only)
This costume work marks the beginning of my creative journey within this collection. In 2023, I acquired an original Edwardian coat in the UK. Queen Victoria (1837-1901) introduced the tradition of mourning in black, which lasted until the Edwardian Era (1901-1910). On this exquisite, over a century-old silk garment, I meticulously crafted intricate embellishments, such as handcrafted paper jewellery and ornaments, glass beads and remnants salvaged from original Victorian jackets and silk parasol. This project gave me a new way of thinking about mourning, a unique interpretation of the traditional way of expressing grief. The detailed process of creating these ‘fashion accessories’ began with Chinese ink drawings. The paper drawings were then treated like fabric, and with fire-burnt processing and layers of hand stitching they were transforming into tactile embellishments and trimmings that were incorporated into the garment. Both sleeves are adorned with paper garlands crafted from my ink drawings. The circular motifs were inspired by the pervasive famine during the war. The empty pots and pans on the garlands represent starving children who begged on the streets.
On the back of the coat is a child’s christening gown, an original Victorian cotton nightdress for a child. Strategically positioned on the back of the adult’s coat, this child’s gown served as a poignant reminder of the profound responsibility we bear as we assume the weight of the child’s future in the face of adversity and calamities. On the baby’s gown, I have created a heavy landscape of destruction, with old pottery shards, vintage English hand-crochet doilies and Victorian lace doll bonnets. At the centre of a mandala is an eye facing towards the viewer, representing a direct, unwavering gaze that challenges the viewer’s perception.
Mourning I & II, 2025. Claire Lee Self portrait. Print on fine art paper, limited edition, 70 x 50 cm
Installation view : We Are All Migrants Through The Fire Surround, 2025. Claire Lee. Victorian cast iron fire surround, charcoals and vintage paper portraits
We are all migrants, traversing this expansive, fiery archway. This arch could symbolise a gateway, a portal, or a pivotal life event such as war, which compels individuals to undergo a profound transformation or adversity. These experiences collectively contribute to the shared narrative of humanity, prompting us to contemplate the significance of the terms “migrant” and “citizen.”
We weep alone in a kaleidoscope world of fire. Flames
flicker and dance in response to pain, it deserves recognition
Observe your body as it mourns the crumbling of bricks
Imagine pain as a mere speck, the size of a pool
while we are mere fragments of the moon, creating splashes in its depths.
Excerpt from my prose "Blame it on My Youth"
War Window I & II, 2025. Claire Lee. 100 x 71 x 2.5cm Ink and charcoal on paper and cotton/linen canvas, oak wood frame
These two large paintings, titled “War Window I” and “War Window II,” draw inspiration from shattered or broken windows found in war-torn regions. These glassless windows metamorphose into empty screens, conveying intricate emotional states and an uncertain future.
The Scar That Never Heals, 2025. Claire Lee. 62 x 44 x 2.5cm. Ink on linen, wood frame
For many individuals who have endured the trauma of war and personal loss, some wounds are too extensive and profound, complicating and prolonging the grieving process. "The Scar That Never Heals” manifests not only as physical pain, but also as psychological trauma, the intangible scars that will never fully heal.
On the painting, a rapid, vibrant ink movement exuded a sense of dynamic strength, suggesting a powerful ability to bounce back from challenges, not just survive them, but thrive with renewed vigour.
You stumbled along the curve of the moon,
when the last echo of thunder reverberated among the stars
in the darkness, true things emerge:
your beautiful pool of mental strength and
indefinite visions in those blank stares.
I perceive you.
Darkness brings you through obstacles and
back to the same old civil war. You gaze off
into the distance without focus, standing still as
the crowd yearns for attachment
Pain is not the worst, nor is it a curse. The worst is
a quiet crack, a self-destructive force. Life,
you know, is fond of injuries and dramas
Now that you’ve gone, as fist-punching my heart
holes appear here and there, another new crack
under the wall connecting the dots of
the scar that never heal, the history that never seal -
-Excerpt from my Prose “Mind the Gap”
Left to right: The Frightened Boy, 2025. Chandelier of Hope, 2025 47 x 36 x 0.5cm. Ink on paper, reverse painting on glass, wood backing
The flickering candlelight dances on the swaying chandelier, while the fire roars outside, making the night seem wild and untamed....
“She’s very quiet”, 2025 40 x 60.5 x 0.8cm Ink on paper, reverse painting on glass, brass frame
All images courtesy of the artist