From a distance, plantations often gave the impression of hush and order, where wide stretches of fields unfold under vast skies, and crops ripen in neat rows. But within their boundaries, lives were arranged as rigidly as the crops: owners at the top, overseers in the middle, and labourers at the bottom. Although it generated wealth and resources for global markets, it also entrenched systems of hierarchy and dependency. Thus, this leads us to consider: were plantations merely sites of production, or a reflection of a larger social order mapped onto the soil itself?

Carrying this critical lens into the Ilham Gallery space is Malaysian curator Lim Sheau Yun, whose ongoing exhibition, The Plantation Plot, expands the conversation beyond fields and harvests. Through her curatorial vision, the exhibition (from now until 21 September 2025) offers new ways of seeing the plantation beyond its surface through contemporary thought and layered artistic practice. Together with Kadist—a global non-profit art organisation—Lim brings together 28 artists and collectives, drawing stories and perspectives predominantly from Southeast Asia and the Americas.

With more than 60 works drawn from Kadist, Ilham Gallery, and other private and public collections, each artist confronts their history in dialogue with the present—revealing the entanglement of socio-economic systems across time. In conversation with the gallery’s assistant curator Azzad Diah, who stepped in for Lim during her travels, the exhibition’s emphasis on history’s afterlives came into focus. “The traces of colonial systems are still with us,” Azzad notes. “The works here don’t only reflect the structures of empire, but also the lived experiences of its colonised individuals. The question is whether we treat it as distant history, or recognise it as a continuity of colonialism, now reshaped into what we call neocolonialism.”

Azzad points out that history erasure is common in many nation-states. “When you build a nation, you build an identity, so narratives are often rewritten,” he says. In the process, however, marginal communities and histories of migration are left out or dismissed, an implication that is deeply consequential. “In the past, we didn’t always identify ourselves as ‘a country’. We called ourselves people of the land, or of a faith. That’s why there’s a struggle today to hold onto those ideas,” Azzad says. “In this exhibition—especially through the perspectives of Indigenous artists—you see that tension, and how these erased histories are reflected and reframed in the present.”

Exhibiting works from various artists may seem like a curatorial challenge, but the process is about binding connections rather than imposing uniformity. “When we do an exhibition, we always try to set patterns and ways to elaborate or extend the central concept. Here, the plantation becomes a plot, and that allows us to also talk about land—its histories, stories, and struggles. Each artist contributes something different but, together, it all connects,” he explains. Although mediums and techniques construct a distinct visual vocabulary, the exhibition foregrounds conceptual resonance. “In contemporary art, it’s not always about painting or sculpture—it’s about the concepts they lean into and the perceptions they open up,” Azzad explains. “Visual language isn’t always literal. It’s like a traffic light—you see red and you know to stop. Its meaning travels far without needing any explanation.
“Everyone is capable of being creative,” he continues. “Creativity and critical thinking are not exclusive skills—they can be practised. That’s why, in this exhibition, we don’t aim to educate in a didactic way but, instead, to use these artworks as tools of communication. Ultimately, we’re not here to deliver a history lesson.”

2025
The Plantation Plot exhibition is currently showing at Level 5 of Ilham Gallery until 21 September 2025, and is open to visitors from Tuesday to Sunday. Admission is free. For more information, visit here.
Cover photo: Yong Mun Sen (Malaysia), The Women, circa 1950s, Oil on board, 43 x 53 cm, ILHAM Collection
