Hannah Lim. Myth maker

When Hannah Lim was a teenager, she would craft small charms and objects out of clay, enjoying the freedom of making. Now aged 27, the London-based artist has made a name for herself creating sculptures large and small, from public archways to decorative furniture and intricately detailed snuff bottles featuring mythological creatures.

Drawing on her Chinese-Singaporean heritage and research into 18th-century chinoiserie and medieval bestiaries, her work is infused with a fantastical reinterpretation of historic decorative motifs and storytelling. Joyously and brightly coloured, her exuberant sculptures often feature creatures, from mythical dragons to symbolic birds, as well as recurring motifs of orchids, hearts and flames. Larger works adopt a cutout style referencing Chinese paper cutting patterns and fretwork.

Four of Lim’s snuff bottles – an ongoing medium of exploration for her – recently featured in the Saatchi Gallery show, Myths, Dreams and New Realities, bringing together 13 emerging artists from across the Asian diaspora, whose work reimagines cultural identity and mythologies. Another snuff bottle featured in a recent exhibition at the David Parr House in Cambridge, Emerald Green, Mineral Green, taking inspiration from the interiors painted by the Arts and Crafts-era decorative artist.

Raised in Isleworth, west London, Lim trained in sculpture at Edinburgh College of Art and Ruskin School of Art, and now works from a studio in Peckham, south London. She’s enjoyed solo shows at Pangolin London, Edinburgh Printmakers and Huxley-Parlour, and major commissions to date include a sculptural installation for Lunar New Year on lampposts at Greenwich Peninsula, an afternoon tea service for Bvlgari hotels, a decorative chest for Dolce & Gabbana and an umbrella for Young V&A that channels the playful spirits of Japanese yōkai.

This year, she designed a gateway-like sculpture in a courtyard at the West Middlesex Hospital, where she was born. Inspired by folding screens, altarpieces and shrines, The Winged Archway features imagery such as a gliding dove and a lotus flower (symbolising peace and enlightenment), as well as flames, all in her cutout style.

As she looks ahead to 2026, Lim is preparing for two shows opening in February – at the Museum of East Asian Art in Bath and Wilder Gallery in London. On a rainy day in November, we sat down to talk about exploring her identity through her work, amazing creatures, and ambitious visions.

I’ve read your work seeks to reinterpret chinoiserie through the lens of your own heritage. Can you tell us more?

I grew up in the UK, but my dad is Chinese-Singaporean. I think it’s that thing of feeling like you belong to both cultures, but don’t have much experience or understanding of one part of it. I was using my work to engage with my Chinese-Singaporean heritage, but found it quite difficult to do in a way that felt appropriate and relevant. I realised that the most interesting thing to do is explore the fact that I’m mixed, and the crossovers between those cultures.

Looking into the history of design, I ended up becoming interested in chinoiserie, the 18th-century style in which European designers reimagined Chinese designs – and other designs from East and Southeast Asia – for European markets. What came out of that was these very colourful, ornate, often quite creaturely furniture pieces, buildings, objects and artworks. I was intrigued by the style, but also slightly unsure about it. Obviously these designs came out of a colonial period, and the trend of chinoiserie very much fits into what people would view now as cultural appropriation. For me, it felt interesting to interrogate it and maybe reinterpret it – and use my interpretation as a way to explore parts of my own heritage.

Snuff bottles are an ongoing medium of your work – why did they become so central for you?

I've always been quite intrigued by them. I noticed that whenever I went to Chinese collections in museums, like the V&A or the British Museum, there seemed to be a collection of tiny, very intricate, beautiful snuff bottles.

European snuff boxes were brought across to China, where they were developed into snuff bottles, often made from glass or ceramics. They served a functional purpose, which is to hold snuff (finely ground tobacco). But they’re also so decorative, so detailed, so intricately made. They ended up being imported back into the UK, probably at a similar time to the popularity of chinoiserie, as these special “foreign” objects that people liked to collect and have in their homes. I suppose, for me, they became an emblem of both my British and Chinese heritage.

I started making snuff bottles after I graduated and moved back home. I didn’t have a studio, and it was lockdown, so I made these small objects at home. And they ended up being something that people really engaged with and loved.

What materials do you work with in your practice?

The snuff bottle materials came about through a lot of experimentation, but I now use jesmonite and polymer clay to make them. I use chalk to create soft blends in colour, and they’re covered in a resin gloss. Some of them feature painted panels, and for those I’ll use acrylic paint. In my studio I have a little oven that I bake the polymer clay in, and I have lots of molds that I use for casting the jesmonite. The jesmonite is the base part – all the details are sculpted by hand in clay.

The other part of my practice is these much larger sculptures which are often made from wood or metal, especially if they’re public outdoor works. I draw and design in the studio, but then they are made by fabricators elsewhere because I don’t have a large laser cutter or plasma cutter. I like being able to produce things on my own in the studio, but I also really enjoy being able to work with fabricators and other people like structural engineers to produce sculptures. It’s nice to have that balance.

You were recently part of the Saatchi Gallery “Myths, Dreams and New Realities” exhibition. How does your work speak to those ideas of mythology and fantasy?

Recently, the designs of my snuff bottles have been influenced by Chinese mythology, but also medieval [European] mythology – and exploring the crossovers between those two things. I became particularly interested in this ancient Chinese bestiary, which is a book of mythological creatures; it’s called The Classic of Mountains and Seas, featuring illustrations and prints of all of these beasts.

A lot of the snuff bottle designs are inspired by the creatures found in that text, but also from [European] medieval bestiaries, too, which equally have amazing, beautiful illustrations of these very peculiar-looking creatures. Interestingly, there’s quite a few surprising crossovers in the creatures that are in both texts, created at different times in very different places. That’s always something that fascinates me: these strange crossovers between cultures throughout time. There are so many connections and similarities and interesting shared stories between cultures, which I think is amazing.

Can you share an examples of a mythological creature featured in your work?

There’s one particular creature from The Classic of Mountains and Seas, the Heluo-Fish, which is a fish with ten bodies. I love its fanned-out form – there was something about its shape that I felt would work on my snuff bottles. I also don’t think I’d ever come across something that looked quite like it. Once I read its description in the book, I was even more enchanted and amused by its funny physical traits and surprising health benefits (it apparently “makes a sound like a barking dog” and “eating it will cure tumours”).

But I also like to incorporate the Chinese zodiac animals into my work. I feature tigers because I was born in the year of the tiger.

Can you tell me about your work featured at the David Parr House?

David Parr was a designer, craftsman, decorator and artist. He worked with William Morris for a period of time, so I believe he was quite influenced by him. Parr painted his own house almost completely by hand. It’s just amazing: very beautiful and so intriguing. I visited the house and created a little snuff bottle for their recent show, inspired by the murals in the dining room and drawing room. There’s something really special about being able to respond directly to a space and have someone else’s history and story to bring into the work.

If you had absolutely no restrictions, what are the wildest ambitions for your work? What would you love to make? 

When I was doing my degree, I made a lot of quite big works, and my practice was primarily larger-scale sculptures. I think you realise when you graduate that it becomes so much harder to make big, big pieces because you don't have the workshops and all the machines – there’s not such easy access to different materials, and people that can advise you. So I always love having the opportunity to create something on a large scale.

Particularly, I really love creating works that are outdoors, that are public, and that lots of people can engage with and have access to. I've been thinking recently that I would really love to make a fountain – a huge, sculptural, public fountain.

Where in the world would this amazing fountain be?

There are so many good options. Kew Gardens isn’t far from where I grew up – I've been quite a lot and they often have interesting exhibitions. So a huge fountain there would be quite cool. Singapore has a lot of interesting parks – so maybe in one of those. But also I think it would be interesting to have some huge, crazy, very fantastical fountain in the middle of London somewhere unexpected.

Maybe we can manifest it through this interview.

Yes!