In the Margins of Legacy: Conversations on Art, Identity, and Influence with Amir and Danial Fuad by Mimie Baharuddin

We do not inherit legacy as a finished story. We inherit it as a question: What will you do with what’s been left to you?

For much of my career, I believed that legacy was something static—a body of work, a series of accomplishments, perhaps even a name etched into the annals of an institution or a gallery wall. But as time passed, I realised that legacy isn’t built in grand gestures or singular achievements. It lives quietly, in the margins, carried by people, woven into the stories we don’t always tell.

This realisation became particularly vivid as I reflected on my journey with Amir and Danial Fuad—two individuals who started as my assistants but evolved into formidable voices in Malaysia’s art scene. Amir, now a writer and curator whose work interrogates art’s role within cultural and social dialogues, and Danial Fuad, a photographer and writer whose lens captures the complexities of both urban and personal landscapes, have both carved paths that are uniquely their own.

What binds us isn’t just shared history; it’s the invisible threads of influence, mentorship, and mutual growth. This article isn’t about looking back nostalgically. It’s about examining how legacy unfolds—not as a linear narrative, but as a dialogue across time, roles, and relationships.

The Architecture of Thought: A Dialogue with Amir

Amir speaks with the precision of someone who has learned not just to observe but to question. His words aren’t ornamental; they’re architectural, carefully constructed to hold weight and meaning.

“When I started, I thought art was about aesthetics—about what looked interesting or provocative,” he told me during one of our conversations. “But over time, I realised art is a system of ideas. Writing and curating became ways to explore those systems, to ask: Why do we value certain narratives? Whose voices are missing?”

Listening to Amir, I was struck by how much he’d grown—not just professionally but philosophically. When we worked together, my role was firmly rooted in management: coordinating projects, ensuring deadlines were met, balancing budgets. Yet, in those structured environments, seeds were planted—seeds that would grow into Amir’s critical engagement with art as both a practice and a discourse.

“You showed me that management isn’t just about efficiency,” Amir reflected. “It’s about stewardship. About holding space for things to evolve, even when the outcome isn’t immediately clear.”

That insight felt like looking into a mirror I hadn’t realised I’d been standing in front of all along. Perhaps I’d been managing more than logistics. Perhaps I’d been managing potential—not just for the artists we worked with but for the people who would one day shape the art world in their own right.

Amir’s curatorial work now focuses on reframing narratives, challenging dominant perspectives, and creating platforms for underrepresented voices. He navigates the art world not just as a participant but as a critical thinker, constantly dissecting the very structures that once shaped him.

“Legacy isn’t just about what you leave behind,” he mused. “It’s about what you challenge, what you disrupt, and what you make possible for others.”

Through the Lens of Memory: Conversations with Danial Fuad

Danial Fuad’s presence is quieter, but his work speaks volumes. His photography captures what often escapes the hurried eye—moments suspended between the ordinary and the profound. Yet, it’s his writing that adds another layer, transforming images into narratives, and narratives into reflections.

“Photography taught me how to frame,” Danial said when I asked him about his artistic evolution. “But writing taught me how to unframe—how to unpack what’s outside the picture, what’s left unsaid.”

His words echoed something I’d felt for years but hadn’t articulated. In management, we’re often taught to focus on the visible—the deliverables, the outcomes, the measurable successes. But true influence often exists in the negative space, in what isn’t immediately seen.

“When we worked together,” Danial recalled, “I thought your role was about controlling outcomes. But looking back, I realise it was about navigating uncertainty—about making space for things to unfold, even when you couldn’t predict the result.”

That observation stayed with me. Perhaps the art of management isn’t about control at all. Perhaps it’s about faith—in people, in processes, in the unseen connections that only reveal themselves in hindsight.

Danial’s work now traverses both the visual and the literary. His photographs document urban life, personal histories, and fleeting moments, while his essays delve into the cultural and political contexts that shape those experiences. Yet, despite his success, he remains deeply connected to the fundamentals—the raw, unpolished truths that art often seeks to uncover.

“Sustainability in art isn’t just about recognition,” he said. “It’s about curiosity. The moment you stop being curious, you stop growing.”

The Unwritten Chapters of Legacy

As I reflected on my conversations with Amir and Danial, a question lingered: Who am I in their story?

I was their manager, their mentor, perhaps even a guide at certain crossroads. But roles are transient. What remains is the influence—the subtle, often unspoken ways we shape each other’s trajectories.

“You were the framework,” Amir once said, echoing a sentiment that Danial would later reinforce in his own way. “But you never tried to be the picture. You created the conditions, but you let us define the content.”

That, perhaps, is the essence of legacy—not in what you impose, but in what you inspire. Not in the projects you complete, but in the people who continue the work long after the projects are over.

In the art world, it’s easy to romanticise the idea of the ‘master’ and the ‘protégé,’ but real growth rarely fits neatly into those archetypes. It’s messier, more reciprocal. I may have taught Amir and Danial about management, but they taught me about meaning. About how influence isn’t always top-down; sometimes, it’s circular.

Managing More Than Projects

Looking back, I realise that my work was never just about managing exhibitions or coordinating timelines. I was managing relationships, managing ideas, managing the delicate, often invisible threads that hold creative communities together.

Management, at its best, isn’t about control. It’s about connection. It’s about recognising that the most impactful work often happens in the background—in the late-night conversations, the moments of quiet encouragement, the willingness to listen more than you speak.

Amir and Danial’s success isn’t a reflection of me, but our journeys are undeniably intertwined. Their growth is part of my story, just as mine is part of theirs. That’s the paradox of legacy: it’s deeply personal, yet it never belongs to just one person.

Legacy as an Ongoing Dialogue

When I asked Amir and Danial what they thought about legacy, their answers were as distinct as their paths.

“Legacy isn’t a destination,” Amir said. “It’s a conversation—one that continues long after you’ve left the room.”

Danial, ever the observer, added: “Maybe legacy isn’t about being remembered. Maybe it’s about making sure certain questions never stop being asked.”

Their words reframed my own understanding. Legacy isn’t something you leave behind. It’s something you leave within.

And so, this story isn’t a conclusion. It’s an entry in an ongoing dialogue—a dialogue about art, identity, influence, and the invisible ways we shape the world around us.

Because at the end of the day, we’re all part of someone else’s story. And perhaps that’s the most enduring legacy of all.

Mimie Baharuddin is an arts management leader with over 15 years of experience in the Malaysian art scene. She has spearheaded exhibitions, competitions, and cultural programs through initiatives like RuangSEMENTARA and URUSANDUA, while securing key funding from organizations such as Yayasan Hasanah, KWAP, and MOTAC.

A former Gallery Manager at HOM Art Trans, Mimie has managed nearly 100 exhibitions and supported over 300 artists. She also led large-scale projects like the PublikArt Festival (2016) and Maybank’s Balai Seni Art Series (2018-2023), engaging thousands of young creatives. Her work reflects a passion for strengthening the arts ecosystem through strategic collaboration and community-driven projects.