Makeup Artist Kenneth Chia On Creative Freelancing
Freelancer learning curve, fostering a community support system, building a library of references
M: What did you study in school?
K: *laughs* That’s a very Singaporean question. Theatre Studies at NUS. I wanted to be a professional actor, writer. Freelanced since 17; performed, wrote since my early teens too.
M: Makeup wasn’t an immediate option.
K: I discovered it accidentally. Friends asked me to help with their makeup or be the MUA for small projects. I was clueless. Researched, made trips to various beauty counters.
I grew up off movies, MVs. Whenever I received a script as an actor, my first instinct was always to imagine how my character could manifest through makeup, hair, clothes. I suggested ideas to directors, but heard back that that luxury was only allowable to feature film timelines, budgets.
M: When did you reach a crossroads between makeup and acting?
K: I was burnt out after filming my last feature for one month overseas. Was also juggling side-hustles just to feed myself.
Besides acting, I never worked another job. Makeup seemed like a promising buffer while figuring out who I was, could be. I also wanted to connect with more of the creative community in Singapore.
I bet friends that makeup would be a year’s affair before I moved to an ad agency.
M: What was the learning curve of makeup like?
K: As a kid, I did lots of art with my mom, attended art classes. Colour theory, painting with brushes came naturally. Everything else was difficult: understanding, nurturing dynamics on set. Knowing when to pull, push back. My job is 50% makeup, 50% relating to people. We all work towards the best outcome of a project.
Hair was another monster. I never tied a ponytail in my life. I bought a mannequin head, practiced on it every morning, sometimes with a timer.
M: Did you feel lucky?
K: “Luck” is opportunity meets preparation. When I started, I was always clear about taking jobs within my capabilities or slightly beyond to build confidence. Then I took jobs slightly more difficult, and more difficult.
I developed my eye for, perspective of beauty. With time, I met people who resonated with my work, were kind, generous, nurturing, an example for the collaborator I wanted to be.
M: How important is it to build a professional community?
K: Community is key to a fulfilling career. In mine, we lift each other up, leave each other’s doors open, share similar professional visions, values.
I trusted that keeping my head down and creating work I believed in would attract the right people to me. Social media helped connect me to talent and vice versa, regardless of our journeys.
This will continue to be our future.
M: How do you maintain boundaries between professional and personal relationships?
K: Many whom I work with become close friends. We show up for each other, are excellent at work, head for happy hour after.
M: How reliant is your success on the opinions of others?
K: Many opportunities come based on trust, word of mouth. But I have to deliver again and again.
Regardless, to make work for the sake of being liked by everyone is tiring, unsustainable, unproductive.
M: How do you build a library of references?
K: Knowing why I wanted to be a MUA, staying curious helps.
My early encounters with beauty as a queer person: New Romantics, drag, disco, nightlife, female icons. A lot of these images are about survival, thriving between margins of mainstream and beyond. They never left me.
Newspapers, beauty journals, blogs, magazines, film, think pieces. Images of sculpture, architecture. Talking to people. The economy, politics, pop culture are fuel for beauty. The The Devil Wears Prada monologue about cerulean blue applies to beauty. Trends don’t manifest out of a Pinterest-aggregated vacuum.
M: Does diversity make your job harder?
K: No. Diversity elevates my work. My makeup chair will always be a celebration of diversity, in all forms. Homogeneity holds us all back. I speak for myself.
M: How will beauty look like at the end of 2022?
K: Hopefully, more courageous.
