Fanboying Through Three Floors of Artists at KLIF, GMBB
- AICREATIVV
- Jul 23
- 3 min read
A Weekend That Wasn’t Planned
It wasn’t part of the itinerary. In fact, KLIF—the Kuala Lumpur Illustration Fair—wasn’t even on our radar until it appeared on Amal Osmera’s TikTok feed. We were already in the city, just looking to unwind over the weekend, and somehow, the algorithm knew what we needed.
Before we knew it, we found ourselves among hundreds of artists, zine collectors, illustrators, and art lovers across three packed floors.
No curated agenda, no must-see talks. We went in with no expectations, and somehow left with our minds buzzing.
Wandering Through Stories
We didn’t attend any talks. No keynote speakers. No panels. What we did do was wander, slowly, through aisle after aisle of passion turned physical.
There was one booth that pulled us in without even trying—an artist who went by something like Mandala Kumala.
His work imagined an entire fantasy universe inspired by Southeast Asian folklore.
Not just surface-level motifs or generic “cultural patterns,” but an actual constructed world—complete with its own ecosystems, tree species, mythical weapons, and imagined fauna.
His pieces looked like they belonged in a mythological collection for a world that could’ve existed. And maybe, in some way, it already does—in the shared stories of the region, in the details we forget, in the roots of the stories we tell today.
Art That Evolves, But Doesn’t Forget
One thing that stood out as we walked through the floors was how the exhibition was arranged—older works and newer ones placed side by side, by region or by style. There was a sense of progression.
You could see how artists had developed their voice, refined their palette, but still kept their core. Some pieces were gentle, vibrant, playful. Others were quiet, eerie, or dark. But each was a visual fingerprint—undeniably unique.
There were styles we’d never seen before. Some that immediately reminded us of artists back home. Some that pushed us to question our own creative directions. And yet, it didn’t feel competitive. It felt expansive. There was space for everything—and everyone.
More Than Expected
We thought it would be a typical art fair. One floor. Maybe twenty to thirty booths. Some merch, some illustrations, and a few crowd favourites. What we got was three stories packed wall-to-wall with 140 artists, each surrounded by people genuinely curious about their work.
It wasn’t a silent space either. Conversations were happening at every booth. You had to wait five to ten minutes just to get a chance to speak with some of the artists. And they were more than happy to talk. Some were selling prints, others zines, a few just brought sketchbooks and stories. What was unexpected wasn’t just the scale of the event—it was the energy.
The crowd wasn’t there just to collect prints or take Instagram photos. They were engaged. They wanted to know the stories, the process, the references. They asked questions, gave compliments, and formed queues just to meet the people behind the work.
A Creative Ecosystem
If you’ve worked in Brunei’s creative scene, you know it’s tightly knit. There’s charm in that—everyone knows everyone, and there’s always space to grow.
But KLIF made us realise what it might look like when the ecosystem matures. A building full of people—hundreds of them—drawn together by a shared love of creativity.
It wasn’t overwhelming. It was encouraging. There was no fear of overlapping ideas. No worry about whether your work was “enough.” Just an open celebration of self-expression in all its forms.
Why This Matters to Us
Coming back, we weren’t filled with the usual post-event rush of “we should do this too” or “we need to catch up.” Instead, we came back grounded.
It reminded us why we do what we do at AICREATIVV. Why we encourage different voices. Why we keep trying to make space for the stories no one else is telling yet.
Because every artist at KLIF wasn’t trying to fit in. They were trying to be seen—and they were.
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