Xuan Hui Ng
Xuan Hui Ng is a photographer whose work is deeply intertwined with personal healing, the rhythms of nature, and the quiet beauty of fleeting moments. Originally from Singapore and now based in Tokyo, Xuan Hui’s journey into photography was not born out of formal training or artistic ambition but rather as a means of navigating profound grief. After losing her mother to cancer—her confidante and moral compass—she found herself in a downward spiral, searching for something to ground her. It was in nature, with its vast landscapes and quiet resilience, that she found solace. What began as an attempt to hold onto the serenity she experienced in these natural spaces soon transformed into a lifelong artistic pursuit.
Her photographs are more than just visual records of places; they are deeply felt expressions of emotion, memory, and renewal. She captures mist-veiled forests, tranquil lakes, and softly illuminated meadows with a painterly sensitivity, allowing viewers to step into the stillness and introspection that she herself experiences in these environments. Her images are characterized by a dreamlike quality, often playing with light, softness, and an almost ethereal color palette. In doing so, she extends an invitation to those who are weary, lost, or seeking solace—to pause, to breathe, and to find comfort in the quiet grandeur of the natural world.
It has been clear to me since my first introduction to her work that these images contain the ability to provide healing to others as well. It is with this idea that it seems only natural to find out more about her life and creative process.
Bio -
Xuan-Hui Ng is from Singapore and currently lives in Japan. Her solo exhibitions include “Interludes” (2021) and “A Gracious Breath” (2023) at Koslov Larsen Gallery and “Transcendence: Awakening the Soul” (2023) at the Griffin Museum of Photography.
She is a Critical Mass Top 50 Finalist in 2024 and a Top 200 Finalist in 2021, 2022, and 2023. Her work has been juried into exhibitions at the Davis Orton Gallery, Southeast Center for Photography, Texas Photographic Society, and New York Center for Photographic Art. She is the winner of both series and single image in the Nature category at the 20th Julia Margaret Cameron Award. She has been an artist lecturer at the Griffin Museum of Photography, Nobechi Creative, Artquest Photo Workshops, and various camera clubs. Publications of her work have been featured in What Will You Remember?, fotoMAGAZIN, PetaPixel, ON landscape, forum naturfotografie, Dodho Magazine, CURIOUS Photo blog, Float Magazine, Feature Shoot, Popular Photography (China), and Fraction Magazine.
In 2022, she was recently interviewed by BBC World Service’s Cultural Frontline on “Creativity and Mental Health”. She is a regular contributor to ELEMENTS landscape photography magazine and an instructor for Santa Fe Workshops.
She graduated with a Bachelor of Science in Economics from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology.
Interview -
Michael Kirchoff: You’ve mentioned in your artist statement that your journey into photography has been less than typical, and was born from grief and self-healing. As your relationship with nature evolved, did the way you see and compose your images change as well? How does your current work reflect where you are emotionally compared to when you first started?
Xuan Hui Ng: The way I see and compose my images has changed over the years, in part driven by accumulating more “mileage” photographing and developing a deeper knowledge of nature, and in part due to the change in my emotional state. However, I am unable to articulate the specific changes in my work that are driven by the shift in my emotional state.
I am, no doubt, a happier person now and have a more relaxed attitude towards life. When I photograph, I feel more confident and less inhibited by expectations or concerns. I think these changes feed unconsciously into my images.
The one thing that has remained constant is the fact that whenever I am photographing nature, both in the past and now, I am filled with awe, wonder, and gratitude, even in my darkest hour. I hope that love and appreciation of nature come through my images.
MK: You’ve also said that nature rekindled your sense of wonder and adventure. Is there a particular place or moment that felt like a profound turning point—one where you truly felt healing begin through photography?
XHN: A profound turning point in my life occurred when I was sitting by the edge of Lake Namtso in Tibet. I was volunteering at an orphanage, and the staff took us on sightseeing trips during our free time. I was sitting by the edge of the lake when I experienced a sense of peace that I had not felt for the longest time. The vastness of the lake reminded me how small I was in the scheme of the universe. Its beauty touched me and reminded me that life is beautiful, that there is just so much to live for and to explore. That was when I got over myself and found hope. I experienced a shift in perspective. I took up photography after the trip because I wanted to preserve those moments of serenity.
Hokkaido has always been a special place for me and is where I’ve created over 90% of my images. It is home to volcanic mountains, lush forests, rolling fields, and expansive lakes. The distinct seasons and significant temperature swings between night and day give rise to breathtaking natural phenomena like mist, frost, and diamond dust. I first visited when I was a child with my family. Life was very simple then. Nostalgia for those memories made me relocate to work in Tokyo fourteen years ago so that I could be closer to Hokkaido.
The pivotal moment of change occurred at Lake Namtso, but the critical process of healing took place in Hokkaido.
MK: Your body of work, Remembrance, is dedicated to your mother after her passing. How has the cathartic experience of creating this work allowed you to move past your sorrow while still honoring her memory?
XHN: I put together Remembrance not to deal with grief but to build new memories. My mum died at the end of 1999, but I only started photographing around 2010 and creating the project in 2017. For years, I just ran from grief and tried not to think too much about her because it brought too much pain. However, I realized that I was starting to lose the remaining memories I had of her. Remembrance was my quiet way of honoring her without the acute pain of loss.
MK: Your use of color and light creates a dreamlike atmosphere in your images. Do you see photography as a way of capturing reality, or as a way of revealing an alternative, more poetic version of it?
XHN: I think photography is a means for me to eternalize the peace that I experienced when surrounded by nature. My photographs capture reality because they are single-exposure images made in camera, and the natural phenomena captured (e.g., diamond dust, mist, bugs) are visible to the naked eye.
The above said, my choice of subject matter and composition, as well as the conditions I choose to photograph in (e.g. snow, rain, mist) are guided by both my pursuit of peace and my desire to reveal the otherworldly side of nature. Perhaps this inadvertently reveals nature’s poetic side.
MK: Your upbringing and cultural background play a role in shaping your artistic voice. Are there specific memories from your early life that continue to influence your photographic style today?
XHN: I danced ballet as a child and read lots of fairytales. As I grew older, I became very fond of mysteries, stories with twists and turns, with plotlines that are not obvious. So Agatha Christie, GK Chesterton, and Roald Dahl were some of my favorites. At first, these preferences and influences from childhood permeated through my work unconsciously. By that, I mean, I’m naturally drawn, for example, to scenes that resemble the backdrop of a ballet or a fairytale. But now, I pursue them a little more consciously.
In addition, my photographic style has been very much influenced by European painters, such as Monet, Renoir, Degas, and Chagall. I first chanced upon Monet’s “Impression, Sunrise” while shopping for a poster for my dormitory room in college and fell in love with his work. The poster prompted me to read up about him and other painters. My love of Chagall came later. I admire his bold use of color and fantastical themes.
MK: Have you made any creative decisions that have been particularly beneficial to your overall process or aesthetic?
XHN: I think there is one decision I’ve made that is beneficial to my overall process, but it is a more philosophical one, rather than a creative one.
The idea that “something is better than nothing” has helped me deal with potential disappointment, which arises when situations or conditions deviate from expectations. For example, it can be really disappointing when the diamond dust I was expecting to see was barely visible, despite apparently perfect weather conditions. In such situations, rather than being overwhelmed by disappointment, I have learnt that it’s important to try to make something out of the scene because “something is better than nothing.” The act of trying itself is important, and sometimes I get surprisingly wonderful results and become aware of new possibilities.
MK: How do you know if you’re ever really done with a specific body of work? Do you ever go back to revisit images or collections to improve upon what you felt was previously finished?
XHN: I have a few subject-specific projects, including Winter’s Coda (charcoal powder on snow) and The Elusive Diamond Dust (diamond dust). I think these will never quite be finished because the phenomena I’m capturing are seasonal, so I can only make very few images each year that I will keep for the long term. As my aesthetics evolve, I end up falling out of love with images that I once held dear and will remove them from the collection.
For projects such as Metamorphosis, which traces my early development as a photographer, I will not revisit the images because I have moved on to a different chapter, aesthetically and also in terms of my life.
MK: Has failure ever been a benefit to your process of making images? Is it a necessary part of any endeavor?
XHN: We have a Chinese proverb, “Failure is the mother of success.” My photography journey has been lined with mistakes, misjudgments, and missed pictures. I think, unless we are geniuses, failure is inevitable in any endeavor. The different extent or level of failure will, no doubt, vary by person.
I personally don’t mind mistakes and failure. They are evidence of the fact that I tried something I was unfamiliar with or that I was willing to risk failure. I’m happy with the process of discovery and less fussed about the results.
MK: Once you’ve achieved finding your particular style or voice, do you ever feel the need to break out and follow a different path?
XHN: There was a period of time when I was worried about doing too much of the same, and felt the pressure to break out and follow a different path. However, after speaking to a number of people, taking time to digest what they’ve said and reflecting on my own process, I think I’ve reached a new equilibrium. I still want to improve my skills and evolve, but I’m putting less pressure on myself. I believe that evolving takes time. Some people will take more time, some people will take less time. I think it’s important to do my best,t but also go with the flow. “Whatever will be, will be.”
The more we see and experience, the more we learn, and the more we will evolve. It’s a perpetual learning process. The definition of “my voice” will change continuously, which makes the journey to “find my voice” an unending one. That’s what makes photography interesting.
MK: How do you approach photographing a scene that feels overwhelming in its beauty or complexity? Do you ever struggle with knowing when to stop and capture the moment?
XHN: One of the first pieces of advice Masumi Takahashi, a landscape photographer based in Hokkaido, Japan, gave me was “not to be spellbound by the scenery and forget composition.” His advice is especially relevant for landscape photography because most of these overwhelmingly beautiful natural phenomena (e.g., diamond dust, mist) are short-lived. If I pause to admire their beauty, I will likely lose the image and may never encounter a similar scene again. Therefore, I’ve “programmed” myself to immediately respond with my camera to record these precious moments. I will enjoy the scene in between shots or while I’m making a video. I think the real struggle for me revolves around how to do justice to these breathtaking phenomena by creating as many variations (compositionally) as possible before they disappear.
For complex scenes, my approach is similar to “hit the road running” because my first few images will not be spectacular, but I will begin to see new possibilities as I continue.
MK: Do you study what others are doing, and do you find their influence in your image-making?
XHN: In the past, I was reluctant to see what others were doing because I didn’t want to be influenced. I wanted my response to a place or a subject to be fresh and to be mine. Now that I have a clearer notion of my aesthetics and approach, I’m less worried about being unduly affected. I actively follow the work of fellow artists in both nature/landscapes and different fields, e.g., wildlife, travel, bookmaking, and cyanotype. Their work offers me a glimpse into their minds and also provides a treasure trove of ideas and inspiration.
In a way, the images of other artists act as “my” first set of images of a place or subject. They help to fast-track me to the second step, where I have to think harder about creating images that are different. The merits of skipping that “first step” are, of course, debatable. For me, seeing what others have done is important because it makes me aware of what is out there already, challenging me to do something different.
We can’t avoid coming into contact with other photographers’ work unless we live in a vacuum. Also, the truth is, even if we bury our heads in the sand, we may still end up with similar work. Therefore, I have learnt not to avoid but to embrace these sources of inspiration while trying to maintain my voice in photography.
MK: You dedicate your images to “kindred spirits, the weary, the lost, and the lonesome.” If someone who is struggling were to ask you how to see the world the way you do, what guidance would you offer?
XHN: I have come to believe that happiness, sadness, and other emotions can become habitual. I experienced firsthand how negative emotions can lead to a downward spiral. In retrospect, photography was the new habit that broke the vicious cycle for me. The solution does not need to lie in photography but in something that you like, that will distract you from your woes, and create moments of happiness to counter the negative emotions. Otherwise, we’ll remain in a loop, and burrow deeper and deeper.
Admittedly, our problems may not go away. The grief of losing my mother remains, and life always throws me some new challenges. However, I think it’s important to give ourselves a reprieve from pain, even if it’s brief and temporary, so that we recharge ourselves to face the world again. These moments of happiness can and do accumulate, and they matter. We just need to give ourselves a chance at happiness. We deserve it.
MK: With your work, Chasing the Fog, it is the importance of family and friends that is now sought to be held dear during the all-too-recent pandemic isolation that took place. Once again, nature stepped in and provided you with the means to keep these people close to your heart. With this in mind, have there been moments when you felt nature was guiding you toward a specific scene or message through its own rhythm and presence?
XHN: Yes, constantly! Although I have become more experienced in photography and knowledgeable of weather conditions and natural phenomena, I attribute my encounters with nature to serendipity. I think Mother Nature has been extremely partial to me, which is why I see it almost as a mission to photograph and do justice to all the scenes that I have been so fortunate to witness.
MK: Thank you so much for your time and attention with this interview. One final question. Your collaboration with nature has led you to an impressive career as an image-maker. Will this be the vehicle that leads you to new work as well, and what might we see from you in the coming months and years?
XHN: You’re way too kind, Michael.
Sam Abell was at a talk I gave for Nobechi Creative, and he suggested that I adopt the same way of seeing for other subjects like architecture. Nevada has encouraged me to work more on people, which I find really difficult because I am not a people person like she is. When I was in Guizhou, China, with her, she managed to build better rapport with the locals than I did, even though she didn’t know Mandarin like I did.
I still have my hands full with getting better at nature photography, but I’ve also learnt to “never say no.” Maybe one day, I’ll venture into other things.
I do hope to put together a book in the near future, but I’ve been saying that for the past 2-3 years ;)
Thank you very much for the opportunity to be featured in Catalyst!
You can find more of Xuan’s work on her website here.
All photographs, ©Xuan Hui Ng
