I was talking to my friend and artist Hsin Hwang one afternoon when she mentioned that I might like the work of her friend, Pei-Yi Tsai. I opened Pei-Yi’s work and immediately thought, wow, nice, I like this. I soon realised she had a solo exhibition opening at SLQS Gallery in Shoreditch, London. I sent her a message and we arranged to meet at the gallery so I could photograph her and make a feature around the show.
A week later, I made my way down from North London on the top deck of a red bus, looking out the window at the shops, movement, and everyday busyness of London as I passed Stamford Hill, Dalston, and into the backstreets of Shoreditch. Cyclists rushed past me as I stepped off the bus beneath tall green trees hanging over the pavement. Old nineteenth-century estates towered around the neighbourhood. East London to me has always carried a certain energy, creative, restless, alive. People moved quickly through the streets with coffees in hand, disappearing into the tall buildings around us. Walking through the streets towards the gallery that morning, I could feel it all around me.
As I approached the building, I looked up and saw Pei-Yi standing outside wearing a long black leather jacket and a smile. We introduced ourselves and headed upstairs together into the gallery space. Large windows overlooked the surrounding estates and greenery below, giving the room a calmness that contrasted beautifully with the movement of the city outside. Trees swayed gently beyond the windows while light poured into the top-floor space. I met the gallery director alongside the curator, Senem Cagla Bilgin-Keys, before Pei-Yi began walking me through the exhibition and the ideas behind the work.
What struck me immediately was the emotional honesty within the paintings. Pei-Yi spoke openly about her experience as a queer East Asian artist and how those experiences shape both the emotional tone and the visual language of her work. The paintings themselves are beautifully composed, with delicate details in the clothing and carefully balanced scenes, but there is also a quiet tension running through them, a feeling that something is constantly being revealed and withheld. Hearing Pei-Yi speak about the work gave the paintings an even greater depth. What first appeared visually striking slowly revealed itself to be something far more personal, reflections of identity, migration, vulnerability, and the way she experiences the world around her.
I often think that when artwork is visually beautiful and then deepened further through conversation and understanding, it becomes something even more powerful. Spending time with Pei-Yi that morning felt easy and natural. By the end of the afternoon, it felt less like I had simply attended a show and more like I had stepped briefly into her world. It was a pleasure getting to know her, and I’m excited to see where both her work and career take her next.
Interview by Brynley Odu Davies.
Cool jacket. Where do you usually get your clothes from?
Pei-Yi: I’m not really a big shopper, to be honest. I get most of my clothes online.
Do you remember the first time you picked up a paintbrush?
Pei-Yi: I’ve loved drawing ever since I was a kid. In fact, as far back as I can remember, I was already picking up pens and scribbling on everything—I even used the furniture at home as my canvas, leaving doodles everywhere (laughs).
What is it about painting that you enjoy so much?
Pei-Yi: For me, painting is both a joy and a real test. It’s a joy because it acts as my emotional outlet; it’s like a language that perfectly translates whatever is on my mind without anything getting lost in translation. On the other hand, it’s a test because making a piece genuinely good is never easy. The whole process is full of friction and challenges. But the moment I pick up that brush, all the noise fades away, and I only have one pure thought: just make this a great painting.
You often incorporate messages into your paintings. Could you describe some of the messages embedded within the recent works in your show at SLQS Gallery?
Pei-Yi: This show at SLQS Gallery means a lot to me because it’s my very first solo exhibition in the West. While there are a lot of artists exploring queer themes right now, I wanted to bring a fresh perspective to the table—specifically, looking at queer subject matter through an East Asian lens. My hope is to use my own distinct voice and visual language to spark a different kind of conversation within the Western art scene.
You moved to the UK at age 29, which is interesting, as you were already a fully formed human being by then. What did it feel like to move countries at that point in your life, and are you glad that you made the move?
Pei-Yi: I chose to move to the UK to do my MA at 29 because I felt like the opportunities for me as an artist back home had hit a bit of a glass ceiling. I wanted to push myself onto a more global stage to get more exposure and see how far I could go. I’ve been in the UK for nearly three years now, and I’ve been lucky enough to show my work in group and solo exhibitions across different countries. Seeing people connect with and appreciate my work, and being given these platforms—looking back, I’m incredibly glad I made that leap.
Since moving to London, what has been your favourite thing about the city?
Pei-Yi: London is incredible, not just for its rich art scene, but because it’s deeply diverse and inclusive. Here, no matter how you dress or how you choose to express yourself, people just let you be—there’s genuine respect and very little judgment. Coming from East Asia, where social codes can feel quite rigid and restrictive, living here has given me the breathing room to just be myself.
And what’s been the hardest thing about adapting to London?
Pei-Yi: On the flip side, the hardest part about living in London is hands-down the cost of living. It’s brutally expensive. If you don’t have a certain level of financial stability, surviving here is a real grind. You constantly have to figure out ways to make enough money just to maintain a decent standard of life.
Now you’ve got a solo show in London, which is where I met you. How has it been having a show in this space and in this gallery? Has it been a nice experience for you?
Pei-Yi: I’m incredibly grateful to SLQS Gallery and curator, Senem, for this opportunity. Ever since I moved to London three years ago, having a proper, fully realized solo show here had been a major dream of mine. Huge thanks to Sarah, the gallery director, and Senem—it’s only because of their thoughtful curation that my new series of work could be presented so perfectly in this space. SLQS focuses specifically on women’s and queer art, which beautifully echoes the core of my own practice. Working hand-in-hand with them to bring this show to life has been an absolute honor.
Do you think your paintings become more honest as you get older?
Pei-Yi: Yes, absolutely. I see my work as a form of self-exposure. Every time I put new work out there, it’s a moment of complete honesty with the audience. If I can’t bring that level of vulnerability to my canvas, then as far as I’m concerned, it’s just not a good painting.
What does a perfect day look like for you?
Pei-Yi: Honestly, a perfect day for me is pretty simple: just being able to eat well and having a smooth, productive day painting in the studio. That’s more than enough for me.
What’s the hardest thing about being an artist?
Pei-Yi: I’d say it’s the endurance—just staying in the game. Sticking with it and still being a practicing artist when you’re old is no easy feat. But my only hope is that I can keep painting for the rest of my life.
If you could host a dinner party tomorrow night and invite five guests from history — dead or alive — who would they be, and what would you cook for them?
Pei-Yi: Haha, I’ve actually never thought about that! If I had to choose, I’d invite a few iconic figurative painters who made history in Western art—like Francis Bacon, Lucian Freud, Andrew Wyeth, Egon Schiele, and Gustav Klimt. I’d love to have them over to give me a proper, unfiltered art critic session on my work (laughs). In return, I’d whip up some comfort food from my hometown—things like braised pork rice (Lu Rou Fan), boba milk tea, and century egg with tofu—and let them have a taste of home.
What are your plans for the next few years?
Pei-Yi: I’d love to secure some artist residencies in different countries. I also want to keep up a rhythm of doing a major solo exhibition every one or two years, making sure that each time I show, I’m bringing a completely fresh energy and a new body of work to the audience.