There are people who become artists because they paint.
Then there are people who simply happen to express themselves through many forms and painting is just one of them.
I've always thought Adli belongs in the second group.
I've known Adli for almost sixteen years. We were from the same AD118 batch at UiTM Lendu back in 2009. I was in Class A, while he was in Class B. Like many of us from that batch, we eventually went our separate ways after our diploma. I continued my bachelor's degree in Seri Iskandar, while Adli went to Shah Alam before furthering his studies in the United Kingdom and later completing another master's degree back in Malaysia.
Even though our paths became different, one thing about Adli never really changed. He was never just a painter.
He was an ‘artist’.
I remember Adli performed in one of our earliest group exhibitions as ARTO Movement. He has had the persona since way before.
He performs. He writes songs. He composes music. He paints.
More importantly, he doesn't seem to separate one practice from another. They all come from the same place.
That became even clearer while reading through his answers.
When I asked what had been on his mind lately, he simply answered, "Love."
Not in a sentimental way, but as something that cannot really be explained. According to him, the only way to understand love is to experience it.
I found myself thinking that perhaps art works the same way.
Sometimes we spend too much time trying to explain artworks when they were never meant to be solved like a puzzle.
Some artworks are meant to be understood, but not all share the same notion.
Some are meant to be experienced.
That also explains why Adli isn't too concerned if a painting turns out differently from what he first imagined.
In fact, he expects it. Once a work leaves the artist's hands, it begins to speak on its own. It reminded me of Roland Barthes' The Death of the Author, where the artist's intentions gradually give way to the viewer's own reading of the work.
The same goes for how people interpret his work. He doesn't believe audiences misunderstand it. Every person comes with different experiences, different memories and different ways of seeing the world. Naturally, they will also leave with different readings. And that's perfectly fine.
Reading his responses, I noticed that many of them shared the same thread.
Instead of searching for inspiration, he believes inspiration is already within us. Instead of forcing meaning onto an artwork, he allows meaning to emerge naturally. Instead of chasing grand ideas, he now pays closer attention to everyday experiences.
That shift began after he was diagnosed with depression in 2016. During his recovery, he started looking inward. His practice became less about making big statements and more about understanding himself. Looking back, it seems to have changed not only the work he makes, but also the way he chooses to live.
Today, Adli continues working on his 'Naga' series while quietly developing a new body of work. At the same time, his new band, 'Kota', has begun releasing songs inspired by everyday life in Kuala Lumpur. To some people these may seem like two separate careers. To Adli, I imagine they're simply two different ways of telling the same story.
Near the end of our conversation, I asked him what younger artists often overlook.
His answer was simple: writing, and not becoming too dependent on galleries.
It reminded me that making art is only one part of being an artist. Reflecting, communicating and building your own voice matter just as much.
Knowing Adli, I don't think he'll ever stop exploring. Whether it's through paintings, music or whatever comes next, I'm looking forward to seeing where that curiosity takes him.
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