Lee Kit returned from a performance in Beijing to his Fo Tan studio, where he lives and works, to discover a mystery. “That towel appeared while I was gone,” says the Chinese University fine arts graduate, pointing to a neon green cloth hanging from a bar on the wall. The towel is not one of his trademark minimalist hand-painted works; the colour is too bright and the surface too textured for Lee’s aesthetic. Though we are peering at it with interest, it is simply a towel, not an artwork. It won’t be gracing tables in a Swedish café as part of a Lee Kit exhibition.

“I don’t think it’s Tozer’s,” he remarks, referring to Pak Sheung-chuen, one of the artists with whom Lee shares the large space.
As we look at Lee’s work in the studio, two things are apparent: he captures everyday occurrences with a studied grace, making the present nostalgic even as it unfolds. He also makes people interact with art outside a gallery or public art context, sometimes without their knowledge.

When asked about the domestic concerns that permeate his work, taking form as tablecloths, curtains, pillowcases and picnic sheets, Lee says, “The first time I wanted to go on a picnic, I took a painted cloth with me. It wasn’t for the sake of the work – I really wanted to go on a picnic... My work has slowly moved away from painting. Now it’s an examination of daily life.”

To highlight his latest preoccupations, Lee shows us selections from an hour-long video where he fills an ashtray with cigarette ash. “It’s very boring,” he says, laughing. “I haven’t watched the whole thing myself.” In order to shoot the video, he smoked hundreds of Mild Seven Sky Blues over the course of a day. “That night, as I crawled into bed, I was so high.”

Before we photograph him, he’s in need of a cigarette. His art has made him highly addicted to nicotine. In fact, the last time we met, he was standing outside Osage Soho, smoking.

The artists:
Tozer Pak Sheung-chuen
Lee Kit
Doris Wong
Leung Chi-wo
Adrian Wong
Nadim Abbas
Tsang Kin-wah