Ching Kai Lee

I am Lee Ching Kai, a Malaysian multiaward-winning photographer and author. Fascinatingly, photography was not something I initially pursued via formal education. I am largely self-taught, and what first drew me towards photography was the realization that an ordinary scene could be rendered extraordinary simply through the manner we choose to see it.

Over time, photography became much more than a means of documenting what stood in front of me. It became a way of expressing emotions and ideas that can sometimes be difficult to communicate via words. I became fascinated by composition, perspective, colour, light, and timing, and by how these elements can transform a fleeting moment into an image which stays with people. That curiosity developed gradually into a serious artistic pursuit and has since brought my work to audiences and competitions on an international scale.

I am particularly attracted to subjects which can be interpreted beyond their immediate appearance. I enjoy finding visual interest in places, structures, landscapes, and everyday scenes which people might otherwise overlook.

A recurring idea in my photography is transformation, that is taking something familiar and presenting it from a perspective that makes the viewer pause and reconsider what they are observing. I am drawn to atmosphere, geometry, contrast, and moments where perspective and light temporarily changes the character of a scene. Ultimately, I want my photographs to evoke curiosity and allow viewers to form their very own emotional connection with the image.

I think one characteristic of my work is my predisposition to search for visual balance, order, and unusual perspectives within an ordinary environment. I pay considerable attention to composition and to how distinct elements can interact within the frame.

At the same time, I do not want technique to overpower the sense of emotion. A technically perfect photograph does not necessarily yield a memorable photograph. For an image to feel distinctly mine, there usually needs to be something which first captured my own curiosity, such as an unusual relationship between shapes, dramatic light, an unexpected perspective, colour, or simply a moment that made me cease. If something makes me look twice, I often want the viewer to feel that same sense of discovery and energy.

Instead of one particular person or place, I would say that being largely self-taught has significantly shaped the manner I view the world. Learning photography independently encouraged me to experiment rather than feel confined and restricted to one predetermined approach.

Also, participating in international photography competitions had an important impact on my development. Seeing how photographers from different nations can interpret similar subjects in profoundly different ways taught me that there is rarely only one right way to photograph something. It encouraged me to become still more observant, more experimental and, most importantly, to develop my own visual perspective instead of simply imitate what was already successful.

For me, all three have essential but distinct roles. Technical knowledge gives me the ability to translate an idea into a picture, whilst preparation elevates the likelihood of being in the right place under the right conditions. However, intuition is often what determines the final photograph.

Sometimes, I can plan an image cautiously, but when I arrive, the light, weather, or environment presents something rather different. Those unexpected circumstances can in fact produce the strongest photographs. I therefore like to prepare adequately while also remaining flexible for any changes that occur. Besides, technical knowledge should become instinctive enough that, when an unexpected moment transpires, I can focus on seeing and responding instead of thinking excessively about the camera itself.

"Singing Bird" started with a very simple observation: a small bird occupying an expansive and wide environment. What attracted me was not merely the bird itself, but how tiny it appeared in relation to the surrounding landscape.

I deliberately composed the image so that the bird would not dominate the entire frame. Instead, I wanted the surrounding space, natural forms, and textures to become equally pivotal. By visually reducing the scene and allowing the bird to remain relatively small, the photograph became less like a conventional wildlife image and more like a study of minimalistic simplicity, solitude, and scale.

The title "Singing Bird" introduces another dimension because a song is something which we normally experience through sound, whereas the photograph is profoundly silent. I love that stark contrast.

It was the relationship between the tiny bird and the enormous amount of space that surrounds it. Normally, when photographing an animal, the instinct is to zero in on the animal and make the animal the dominant subject. Here, I felt that doing the opposite produced something even more captivating.

The bird remains instantly noticeable despite occupying such a small part of the frame. That tension fascinated me big-time. The emptiness does not weaken the subject, but rather, it makes the bird appear paradoxically significant. That was when I realized that the photograph could work not simply as an image of a bird, but as a more minimal, thoughtful, and contemplative picture.

Composition and negative space were the most essential choices. I intentionally resisted filling the frame with the subject and instead allowed the sweeping landscape and surrounding textures and shapes to establish a sense of scale.

The monochromatic treatment was also pivotal. Removing colour reduced visual distractions and moved attention towards texture, form, tonal contrast, and atmosphere. The brighter central area naturally guides the audience eye towards the tiny bird, whilst the darker textures surrounding it create a kind of visual enclosure within such minimalistic image.

Also, the bird occupies a position where it remained visually distinct but still appearing integrated into the larger space and environment.

I would like audience to experience a sense of stillness and maybe solitude, but not necessarily loneliness. The bird is physically tiny within the landscape, and yet it commands attention.

For me, there is something rather optimistic about that. Something does not have to be large or dominant in order to establish a presence, as even a small speck of voice can meaningfully exist within an enormous world.

At the same time, I choose not to impose a single interpretation. If another viewer experiences isolation, peace, resilience, or freedom when looking at the image, those interpretations are equally meaningful to me.

Photography has made me considerably more observant as an individual. It teaches me that interesting things are happening constantly, but we frequently move too quickly to notice them.

I have become more conscious and attentive to small details, like how people interact with their surroundings, how geometrical shapes emerges within an ordinary structure, how light influences a familiar landscape, or how a moment that lasts merely seconds can completely change a scene. Photography has therefore impacted not only how I create images, but also how I experience my everyday life. It has taught me that extraordinary visual experiences do not necessarily need extraordinary places.

If there is one recurring idea, it would be: look again, in another angle.

A familiar subject can become unfamiliar when observed from another angle, isolated from its normal context, or reduced to its fundamental textures and shapes. My another image, "The Forgotten History", for instance, is much more abstract and geometric than "Singing Bird", but both photographs ask the audience to spend time examining something instead of promptly identifying it and moving on.

I hope my body of work encourages curiosity and reminds viewers that there are often multiple ways and perspectives of seeing the exact same world, and there is not only one angle of observing things.

I was delighted and thankful when I learned that my work had been recognized by 12AWARDS. "Singing Bird" receiving a Commended distinction in Fine Art, together with Acceptance recognition for "Singing Bird" in Minimalism and "The Forgotten History" in Fine Art, was particularly meaningful to me because these photographs represent different aspects of my visual approaches.

Although I have been fortunate to receive worldwide recognition for my photography over the years, I try not to perceive a new recognition as a routine one. Every competition brings together different photographers, judges, preferences, and perspectives. Knowing that an image I created engaged emotionally with another international jury remains very encouraging in a sense.

I would like to continue developing a body of work with an increasingly recognizable visual identity while remaining flexible with a variety of experimentation.

I am passionate about exploring the boundaries between representational photography and abstraction, such as creating images that commence with real subjects but encourage viewers to perceive them as combinations of shape, space, texture, light, and emotion.

In the longer term, I hope to continue bringing my work to the worldwide audiences via competitions, publications, and exhibitions while challenging my own creativity instead of simply repeating what has already been successful.

My experience with 12AWARDS has been very positive, and I am thankful that my images were recognized across the Fine Art and Minimalism categories. I particularly appreciate opportunities that allow photographers from different backgrounds and countries to have their work considered in an international context.

I also appreciate initiatives such as this interview because they allow audiences to comprehend not only the final photograph but also the inkling and experience behind it. For future editions, I would encourage 12AWARDS to continue expanding the visibility of recognized photographers via interviews, editorial features, social media, and other promotional opportunities.

One aspect of my journey that I think is worth mentioning is that I did not come from a conventional fine-art or photography background. My academic and professional background has largely been in business, accounting, and finance, whilst photography developed independently as a creative pursuit. One of the most memorable milestones in my photographic journey has been being crowned the "Photographer of the Year" twice, alongside receiving numerous other international awards and recognitions over the years.

Being largely self-taught has taught me that the path of an artist does not necessarily need to be linear. Experimentation, curiosity, creativity, and persistence can sometimes be just as important as formal artistic training and education. My creative enthusiasms also extend to writing, and I find photography and writing complementary. One communicates primarily through images and the other through language, but both ultimately involve storytelling, ideas, and perspective. Whether I am working with a camera or with words, I am enthusiastic in taking something that is present in my imagination or surroundings and subsequently presenting it in a manner that allows someone else to experience it creatively.

Perhaps the idea that best summarizes my journey is the same idea which I hope exists within my photographs: there is always another angle of seeing things.