Better known by the moniker SKL0, Sam Lo is behind several historic firsts in the local arts landscape, including Singapore’s tallest mural on the 22-storey Coliwoo Orchard, and My Grandfather Road, the largest temporary street painting on Circular Road. His works have also been exhibited in China, India, the Netherlands, Thailand, Hong Kong, Australia, and Malaysia.
Although Lo began in street art with an infamous graffiti scandal that led to his arrest, he has since moved on to murals, illustrations, and immersive installations. His resume now includes being the first and only Art Director for Chingay; Art Director of this year’s National Day Parade; and Festival Director of PAssionArts Festival 2025.
Lo typically weaves activism, identity, and social commentary into his work as inclusivity is something he holds dear to his heart. “The fact that we come from such vastly different cultural backgrounds and communities, as well as different starting points in our trajectories, shows that we should advocate for more kindness and equity in our society.
“I believe our individual struggles are very interlinked— and that we are not free until everyone is free.”
Do you try to represent Singapore in your practice?
Most of the time, I do, out of curiosity and intrigue about what it means to be a young country like ours. This country has seen rapid economic growth in an ever-changing landscape. We need to develop a distinctive visual language we can identify as our own; one that tells our stories over generations and contributes to shaping what a recognisable Singaporean visual language looks like for future generations.
In your experience, how has the local arts scene evolved over the past decade?
I have been experiencing a rejection of traditional standards of visual art. It is a more organic form tied to the soul, and does not adhere to traditional composition and artmaking rigidity and rules.
Coming from a background where every line and colour is intentionally refined in the pursuit of perfection, I very much enjoy seeing my world turned upside down by these new modes of expression. Here, experimentation and honest, raw expression are prized over old schools of thought, resulting in abstract pieces that exude life.
Has Singapore’s small market been a stumbling block?
I feel the effects of a glass ceiling in Singapore to some extent. I believe it has to do with how much we collectively support our local talent, both morally and financially.
On top of that, being an artist or creative in Singapore still carries the stigma of not being able to support oneself. When you pair that with the “non-essential” label from the Covid-19 days, it says a lot about how we foster our creative culture because of how we prioritise growth.
What has been the biggest challenge in your career, and how did you work to overcome it?
In my career as a muralist, one of the constant challenges is shifting expectations of what public art should be. In Singapore, most murals are commissioned and—by design— tend to spotlight local culture and heritage, sometimes also reflecting the commissioning company’s values or brand.
I enjoy celebrating the stories of the neighbourhoods I work in, but expression shouldn’t be limited to those themes. I advocate greater openness and trust in artists’ ability to tell more distinctive stories—sometimes more urgent, more universal, and less restrictive.
Street art, to me, is like writing love letters to the public in the world’s biggest gallery. It adds so much soul to communities. Besides talking to clients in hopes of widening the scope, I work with clients who give me creative freedom to explore topics beyond traditional heritage themes.
What does it mean to be an icon in Singapore art?
There is so much pressure! I choose mediums that best communicate my message. They can be anything from telling a sad love story of displacement due to modernisation through two large murals on opposite ends of the same building to creating a barter market for local artists and artisans that does not require booth rental, thereby contributing to the community’s economic development.
I would love to explore other experiential mediums to immerse people in thought-up worlds, like what I accomplished with the ‘Wonder World: The Machine of Nostalgia’ installation at last year’s Singapore Night Fest. It was a commentary on the commercialisation of nostalgia.
What’s in the pipeline for you?
I’m working solo on one of my most ambitious projects for the year: a 60-m wide mural covering a six-floor building. I usually engage assistants for big projects like this, but wanted to fully immerse myself in the craft this time and reconnect with painting again.
I’m excited that the subject revolves around conservation as it allows me to tell universal stories. I absolutely love painting murals, so it’s a treat.
Is there a local icon you’d love to see reimagined and how would you do it?
Rather than reimagining commonly mentioned icons, I propose making the koel bird an icon. More often heard than seen, koels make a variety of calls, including the distinctively loud, repetitive, high-pitched “ku-oo” mating calls from dawn that inform so many of our heartland memories.
Photography Joel Low
Styling Chia Wei Choong
Hair Jenny Ng
Makeup Keith Bryant Lee, using Dior Beauty
Photography assistant Eddie Teo
Styling assistant Annalisa Espino Lim
