Veteran artist crafts a story as layered and intricate as his prints


Abdul Mansoor’s mastery is not merely in technique but in a quiet, lifelong devotion to the art form that has shaped his journey and identity. Photo: The Star/Shaari Chemat

Abdul Mansoor Ibrahim, known in the printmaking world as Pak Chot, embodies the rich legacy of his craft.

His decades- long experience runs deep, yet he carries this wealth of knowledge with effortless grace, as though the intricacies of printmaking have become second nature.

“I’ve been doing printmaking for as long as I can remember ... since I was about 18 years old. For me, it’s not just a craft – it’s life itself. It’s as natural to me as waking up each day and repeating the rituals that make up our routines,” says Abdul Mansoor, 72, with a calm, understated confidence that belies the decades of dedication to his art.

In a recent interview at Chetak 17, a printmaking hub in Wangsa Melawati, Kuala Lumpur, Abdul Mansoor was in high spirits as he discussed his latest solo exhibition, Engraving Life, and much more.

Abdul Mansoor, known as Pak Chot, works on a wood engraving in his studio in Kuala Lumpur. Photo: Fauzi Tahir Abdul Mansoor, known as Pak Chot, works on a wood engraving in his studio in Kuala Lumpur. Photo: Fauzi Tahir

The gallery, a sanctuary for printmakers, served as the perfect backdrop for this exchange, embodying the creative pulse of a community that has long embraced his work. In this setting, Abdul Mansoor reflected on his artistic journey and the deep connection he has with the medium he’s devoted his life to.

Chetak 17 is where Abdul Mansoor mingles with his “tribe” – fellow printmakers of all ages, sharing ideas, techniques, and stories with both seasoned veterans and eager newcomers in the craft.

Engraving Life, on display until Sept 22, features 38 of Abdul Mansoor’s wood engravings created over the past 12 years, including several pieces that are making their exhibition debut.

All the fine details

For this exhibition, Abdul Mansoor eagerly shares his insights into printmaking and the creative journey behind his work.

For those new to printmaking, wood engravings belong to the relief printing family, where ink is applied to the raised surface of a block, requiring only light pressure to transfer the image onto paper.

'Pollen Bath & Nectar Collection' by Abdul Mansoor. Photo: Chetak 17'Pollen Bath & Nectar Collection' by Abdul Mansoor. Photo: Chetak 17

What sets wood engraving apart from woodcut or woodblock printing, however, is the material. Woodcuts are carved from vertically sliced blocks taken from the core of a log, while wood engravings are meticulously crafted from horizontally cut blocks, known as the end grain, which offers a much denser and more challenging surface for carving fine details.

Given the unique shapes and sizes of tree logs, Abdul Mansoor often incorporates the natural form of the wood into his final work, as seen in pieces like Pengembara Samudra (Ocean Explorer).

“What do you see when you look at this piece? A sea turtle, right? Try to look again and tell me what you see,” he says.

If you zoom out and look at the outline of the work, you can see it – a skull-like shape.

“It depicts the struggle of living in the deep sea,” he explains.

Abdul Mansoor prefers to use hardwood from local trees, such as ciku or kemuning, for wood engravings.

“I like to use local trees because it’s cheap and easy to source. I favour ciku wood in particular because of the quality of the wood – its grain is tight and dense. You can achieve sharper details that way,” he shares.

Abdul Mansoor’s wood engraving, 'Rumah Haram', is the largest piece among the series that depicts a hermit crab. Photo: Chetak 17Abdul Mansoor’s wood engraving, 'Rumah Haram', is the largest piece among the series that depicts a hermit crab. Photo: Chetak 17

And indeed, the details in his prints, which range from a microscopic view of insects and animal close-ups to broader, complex humanitarian issues, are painstakingly intricate.

What’s even more fascinating is that he can achieve such fine details while working with a mirror – for relief prints, the work has to be engraved as a mirror image so that it comes out the right way when printed on paper.

“Wood engraving is essentially a play between positive space and negative space – that’s the tricky part. If you’re not used to it, you may make mistakes, like carving out too much. So it’s important to keep track of how the work is progressing with test or stage proofs,” says Abdul Mansoor.

Read between the lines

Divided into three sections – “Life”, “Frame of Nature”, and “Eyes of the World” – the exhibition highlights Abdul Mansoor’s incisive observations of the world through his chosen subject matter and apt titles.

“I started working on this series in 2010. Many of the pieces are actually metaphors; I connect my social commentary with the natural world and often give a hint through the title,” he says.

Abdul Mansoor’s 'Pengembara Samudra' (end grain ciku wood engraving on rice paper, 2015), one of the highlights in his exhibition at the Chetak 17 gallery. Photo: Chetak 17Abdul Mansoor’s 'Pengembara Samudra' (end grain ciku wood engraving on rice paper, 2015), one of the highlights in his exhibition at the Chetak 17 gallery. Photo: Chetak 17

Abdul Mansoor gestures at Rumah Haram (Illegal House), the largest piece among the series that depicts a hermit crab.

“Hermit crabs sometimes attack other crustaceans and steal their victims’ shells to make into their own. It’s not just hermit crabs that do this,” he says with a knowing raise of his eyebrows.

“There’s also Pollen Bath & Nectar Collection, which touches on workers who are made to work at spas. Bloodsucker needs no explanation – I did this one for Labour Day,” he explains.

For Abdul Mansoor, it should be an artist’s mission to express their observations of everyday parts of our lives, especially on behalf of those who are unable to.

“Artists of course have the freedom to choose what they want to convey through their art. Some artists prefer to make things that are aesthetic and pleasant to look at. There’s nothing wrong with that.

“But personally, I think it’s important to point out injustices where you see it, and if you have the platform to do so, you should use it. A lot of the inspiration for my pieces come from the things that disturb me, that I can’t stop thinking about, and the only way to get it off my mind is to put it into my artwork,” he says.

Restoring history

Historically, printmaking played a major role in the democratisation of fine art, as it made the reproduction of information and imagery possible.

Perhaps it’s not such a surprise as to why a young Abdul Mansoor chose printmaking as his major at the School of Art and Design under Institut Teknologi MARA (now known as UiTM), especially if you’re familiar with how his artworks tend to carry deeper messages that subtly (and sometimes not so subtly) centre social and political issues.

Four sculptors reunited last year (from left) - Abdul Mansoor, Christopher Carney, Mufti Jantan, and Zolkeply Maulana - who restored the National Monument after it was bombed by communist in 1975. Photo: The Star/Kamarul Ariffin Four sculptors reunited last year (from left) - Abdul Mansoor, Christopher Carney, Mufti Jantan, and Zolkeply Maulana - who restored the National Monument after it was bombed by communist in 1975. Photo: The Star/Kamarul Ariffin

“I wanted to do printmaking because it was different from sculpture and painting (the other majors available). When you create an artwork, if it’s a sculpture or painting, it’s often a one-off. The artist doesn’t get to keep anything for themselves.

“But with printmaking, if we print 10 editions, the artist gets a copy, and so do others. It’s also a more affordable form of fine art,” he points out.

In 1975, Abdul Mansoor also had a part in fixing a national monument – he helped restore the Tugu Negara, which had been bombed by communists.

“My printmaking lecturer at ITM, Kok Yew Puah, was friends with Christopher Carney, the Australian sculptor that was tasked with the restoration project. Carney was also a lecturer at ITM at the time. So he recommended all three of his students, including myself, to work on it,” he recalls.

Under the instruction and supervision of Carney, Abdul Mansoor and fellow students Abdul Mufti Jantan and Zolkeply Maulana used their experience in sculpting to create the pattern that would be used to cast new parts to replace those damaged in the bombing.

“It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and an absolutely brilliant experience,” he says.

Abdul Mansoor fully focused, carefully working on one of his intricate wood engravings. Photo: Fauzi Tahir Abdul Mansoor fully focused, carefully working on one of his intricate wood engravings. Photo: Fauzi Tahir

“It’s a shame we lost touch after the project. I had to leave halfway through the restoration process because I received a scholarship to study in France.”

Last year, however, the three former students reunited with Carney for the first time since they worked together.

“We decided to do the reunion because there were a few unrelated parties who were claiming that they had done the restoration. So we wanted to clear the air and share all the documentation we had kept of the project after all these years,” he adds.

The longevity of print

After completing his diploma at ITM, Abdul Mansoor furthered his studies in France, where he studied at the prestigious Ecole Nationale Superieure des Beaux-Art in Paris, France.

“It was a tough time, but I learned a lot. There weren’t many other Malaysians there at the time, so I mixed around with people from many different backgrounds – there were Japanese, American, British artists. I kept in touch with my family in Hulu Langat (Selangor) using Aerogram, which takes about a week to receive,” he says.

During this time, he was also an apprentice to renowned printmaker S.W. Hayter at Atelier 17, an influential printmaking school and studio where he learned the art of viscosity printing, a specialised printmaking technique developed by Hayter himself.

Upon returning to Malaysia in 1980, he joined the well-known art collective, Anak Alam, got a diploma to teach art, and went on to obtain a Master’s in Fine Arts at Universiti Teknologi MARA, all while continuing to produce artwork as a printmaker.

A new wave of printmaking enthusiasts checking out the exhibition at Chetak 17. Photo: Chetak 17A new wave of printmaking enthusiasts checking out the exhibition at Chetak 17. Photo: Chetak 17

Reflecting on his career, Abdul Mansoor says that community is a vital part of life as an artist.

“You have to be in a community. Because if you work alone, it’s very tough to get into the market. That’s why socialising and networking is important. But that’s also the beauty of the printmaking community – we’re all brought together by our shared love for it,” he says.

It’s for this reason that he also believes that print as an art form is in no danger of dying out.

“Print has the ability to evolve with the times, so the techniques and formats will change, but it will still be here. Today, digital print is the king; tomorrow, who knows?

“When it comes to the traditional techniques of printmaking that I learned and taught, like wood engraving, they are quite niche, so I think there will always be people who are interested and passionate enough about it to keep it going,” he concludes.

Engraving Life is showing at Chetak 17 until Sept 22. Open: Tuesday-Saturday, 11am-6pm.

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