We are still trying to absorb the fact that our dearest friend and colleague Chiyan Ho died recently. He was at the heart of a vibrant group of friends that began to form during his Foundation year at the Architectural Association in 2012. We didn’t see his hair that first year in studio, for his navy beanie hat was a prominent sartorial feature of those beginnings. His cool phlegmatic vibe belied the sharp wit and intelligence that informed his work and conversations. He took a highly successful and individual creative journey through the AA with work that traced memories of a European sunrise through litmus paper tests on London streets, commented on energy consumption and corporate greed, and illustrated how culture can be revealed in the most subtle of architectural gestures.
One thing never changed – Chiyan always fully intended to be an artist. In his Diploma years, he began to cement a creative partnership with his great friend Michael Ho, a friendship that began during a shared 24-hour observational survey including a murmuration of starlings and an ethereal sunrise. Among other pieces, they produced a conjoined suit and started to address the subtleties of what it is to be dual. Their work on leaving the AA concentrated more on painting, with work exploring issues pertaining to the Chinese diaspora, cultural mismatch and subsequently cultural (re)discovery. They found in each other a facilitation, a way of moving forward, of provocation through conversation. Their work is testimony to both the creative possibilities of collaboration and the value of being challenged by those closest to us.
As a tutor on the Foundation course, these last three years, we found that Chiyan could tap into the creative psyche of each individual with disarming ease, provoking and supporting in equal measure. His many years of working in the Library as a student equipped him with an outstanding range of references, adding to those he gathered from his dynamic day-to-day. His students were challenged to take creative risks and stray from zones of comfort to engage with ways of thinking and making that forever changed their practice. It is apt that his Chinese name 何智仁 fully articulated his ease of effortless altruism, and it is only recently that many of us have better understood the meanings behind these characters; the first 何 being the surname Ho derived from, possibly, the character for river. The second 智 (Chi) can be taken to mean wisdom. The third 仁 (Yan) can be taken to mean benevolence.
That we didn’t have decades of Chiyan is a tragedy, but his years were pure and intense – lived with honesty, integrity and trust. Chiyan’s influence was so potent, and his way of thinking so vital, that all who met him will carry his legacy with them, from his tight-knit early clan who hold him at their very core to those he met more recently. Echoes and the magic of his conversations will carry to the future as ripples with no resistance to his kind influence. This subtle legacy is very powerful and far-reaching; he will be heard through the voices of others – many, many others.
As we keep Chiyan at the heart of our thoughts and conversations we simultaneously extend our tender sympathies, sincere love and respect to Chiyan’s parents, Shwu Chyn and Khee An, and sister Seelin. Thank you, for making such a truly beautiful and unique man.
Finally, here are some notes written directly to Chiyan as we keep him held in conversation with us, the first from Mark Campbell;
‘Below is a small remembrance I wrote for you, Chiyan, on behalf of Saskia, Stewart, and I. To be added, or not, to whatever notice the AA put up. But that's not the point. Some things, like love and admiration and loss – and even annoyance – don't always have to be stated. We all know and share and embody these things in our lives and are richer for them.
So, lots of love from all of us, and, especially, to you Chiyan. I imagine your email connection might be a little patchy right now. But who knows, maybe, for once, it's seamless:
Chiyan’s sudden passing has brought a special kind of sadness. Chiyan was such a vital presence – a beloved friend, colleague, ex–student, graduate and teacher here at the AA. And, of course, much more than that – funny, talented, sardonic, generous, infinitely kind. We will enjoy remembering the conversations we had, the drawings we argued over, the beautiful conjoined twin-suit he made with Michael that we all celebrated, and the excitement of future projects which will now be forever set aside. Chiyan’s passing is a reminder that all losses are special, giving a unique form and colour and grain to the absences of those we love. Absences which have no need to be filled but, on the contrary, are to be recognised, appreciated and carried with us. “Now that we speak of dying, have I the right to smile?” TS Eliot once asked. The answer, of course, is yes, and always. Lots of love to you, Chiyan, from Mark, Saskia and Stewart. X’
Leaving the final words from Michael:
‘To Chiyan, my best friend, my brother.
There are no words that can describe the deep loss and grief I am feeling. As tears go by, the last weeks have been spent with sadness and silence but also with laughter, joy and happiness. You have taught me to remember the importance of being there for each other, to cherish the relationships we have and to pause and take the time to spend with friends, family and loved ones; things that can easily be taken for granted and drowned under the madness of life.
You have given us so much joy and I will remember all the precious moments I had with you. I am so grateful to have been able to share this journey with you and will do my best to continue the path for the two of us. You were a true inspiration and will continue to be – you will forever be in my heart.
May you rest in peace‘.
