editorial

An art exhibit at REXKL in Chinatown, Kuala Lumpur.

Kuala Lumpur Chinatown &#8211; REXKL Art Exhibit Hero

Words by Samia Qaiyum 
September 18, 2026 
Beyond its bustling markets and century-old temples, Kuala Lumpur’s historic Chinatown continues to reinvent itself without losing sight of the past.
<figure id="attachment_163469" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-163469" style="width: 1200px" class="wp-caption aligncenter"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" class="size-full wp-image-163469" src="https://staging.destinasian.com/wp-content/uploads/Kuala-Lumpur-Chinatown-Prewar-Shophouses-and-Jao-Tim-Jazz-Bar-Interior.jpeg" alt="Prewar shophouses on Jalan Sultan; inside Jao Tim, a jazz venue on the same road." width="1200" height="800" srcset="https://staging.destinasian.com/wp-content/uploads/Kuala-Lumpur-Chinatown-Prewar-Shophouses-and-Jao-Tim-Jazz-Bar-Interior.jpeg 1200w, https://staging.destinasian.com/wp-content/uploads/Kuala-Lumpur-Chinatown-Prewar-Shophouses-and-Jao-Tim-Jazz-Bar-Interior-300x200.jpeg 300w, https://staging.destinasian.com/wp-content/uploads/Kuala-Lumpur-Chinatown-Prewar-Shophouses-and-Jao-Tim-Jazz-Bar-Interior-1024x683.jpeg 1024w, https://staging.destinasian.com/wp-content/uploads/Kuala-Lumpur-Chinatown-Prewar-Shophouses-and-Jao-Tim-Jazz-Bar-Interior-768x512.jpeg 768w" sizes="auto, (max-width: 1200px) 100vw, 1200px" /><figcaption id="caption-attachment-163469" class="wp-caption-text">Left to right: Prewar shophouses on Jalan Sultan; inside Jao Tim, a jazz venue on the same road. (Photos: Efired/iStock; Courtesy of Jao Tim)</figcaption></figure>
“Makan sedap, uncle,” I say awkwardly to Ah Long, discreetly handing him a 10-ringgit note, well aware that a compliment in Bahasa Melayu doesn’t quite fit the situation. I’ll take any opportunity to overpay, though. The guilt of paying less than “two ringgits for a freshly made apam balik gets me every time—especially when it’s going to a famously friendly man now in his seventies. After more than 40 years, he’s still here behind his tricycle cart at Petaling Street Market, turning out the crispy-edged peanut pancakes that have become a ritual on my trips to <a href="https://destinasian.com/travel-guide/malaysia/kuala-lumpur" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Kuala Lumpur</a>.
<h2>REXKL and Chinatown’s Creative Revival</h2>
Like many hawker stalls in the vicinity, Petaling Street Apek’s Apam is a longstanding fixture in Chinatown. Yet a mere 100 meters away on Jalan Sultan, <a href="https://rexkl.com/?DestinAsian" target="_blank" rel="noopener">REXKL</a> might as well be another world. Housed in the former Rex Cinema—rebuilt after a fire in the 1970s and subsequently home to a karaoke outlet, migrant housing, and a backpackers’ hostel—the cultural hub has become a model of adaptive reuse in this historic neighborhood. Today, it draws an artsy crowd with DJ sets, vintage stores, a labyrinthine bookshop, and a food hall showcasing some of the city’s most promising culinary talent.
Zoomed out, REXKL echoes an ongoing renaissance that is bringing Kuala Lumpur’s Chinatown back into the spotlight, this time as one of its most dynamic quarters. True to patterns of urban regeneration, the neighborhood underwent a period of neglect and even dereliction as new business centers emerged across the wider Klang Valley in the late 20th and early 21st centuries, leaving it a shell of its former self. Some of my favorite local haunts likewise reflect a revival made possible by a younger generation launching new concepts or injecting family businesses with new life.
There’s <a href="https://www.hungrytapir.com/?DestinAsian" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The Hungry Tapir</a>, awash in pink and occupying the first floor of a 1920s building along Jalan Petaling. The idea is simple but brilliantly executed: a rotating menu of vegan dishes driven by the kind of culinary experimentation that was once perceived as risky in Kuala Lumpur. Other venues, meanwhile, are straddling the line between tradition and innovation. <a href="https://www.instagram.com/hokowhainamkopitiam/?DestinAsian" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Ho Kow Hainam Kopitiam</a>, for example, has developed a savvy queuing and QR-code ordering system that reflects the ingenuity of the fourth generation in sustaining the popularity of this old-school coffee shop, which has been serving Hainanese staples like kaya toast since 1956.
Nearby, <a href="https://theplusn.com/?DestinAsian=" target="_blank" rel="noopener">+n by UR-MU</a> makes for a great diversion when a rainstorm strikes without warning. This is the boldest of contemporary art museum UR-MU’s three venues, with exhibitions that tackle subjects such as war, political dissent, and censorship.
Come dusk, my first recommendation is always a jazz or blues session at <a href="https://www.jaotim.com/?DestinAsian" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Jao Tim</a>, an art deco–inspired listening room hidden behind the myriad signboards competing for attention along Jalan Sultan. But you could, in essence, return to Chinatown every night of the week for a taste of its many buzzy eateries and cocktail bars. The likes of <a href="https://www.instagram.com/gstring.kl/?DestinAsian" target="_blank" rel="noopener">G-String KL</a>, <a href="https://www.facebook.com/dabaomalaysia/?DestinAsian" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Da Bao</a>, and <a href="https://www.instagram.com/concubine_kl/?DestinAsian" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Concubine KL</a> have all taken up residence in prewar shophouses along Kwai Chai Hong, a restored laneway with a disturbing past (more on that later).
<figure id="attachment_163473" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-163473" style="width: 1200px" class="wp-caption aligncenter"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" class="size-full wp-image-163473" src="https://staging.destinasian.com/wp-content/uploads/Kuala-Lumpur-Chinatown-REXKL-Bookstore-and-Artist-Ho-Chee-Jen.jpeg" alt="The cavernous bookstore at REXKL; artist Ho Chee Jen, creator of the Museum of Disappearance." width="1200" height="800" srcset="https://staging.destinasian.com/wp-content/uploads/Kuala-Lumpur-Chinatown-REXKL-Bookstore-and-Artist-Ho-Chee-Jen.jpeg 1200w, https://staging.destinasian.com/wp-content/uploads/Kuala-Lumpur-Chinatown-REXKL-Bookstore-and-Artist-Ho-Chee-Jen-300x200.jpeg 300w, https://staging.destinasian.com/wp-content/uploads/Kuala-Lumpur-Chinatown-REXKL-Bookstore-and-Artist-Ho-Chee-Jen-1024x683.jpeg 1024w, https://staging.destinasian.com/wp-content/uploads/Kuala-Lumpur-Chinatown-REXKL-Bookstore-and-Artist-Ho-Chee-Jen-768x512.jpeg 768w" sizes="auto, (max-width: 1200px) 100vw, 1200px" /><figcaption id="caption-attachment-163473" class="wp-caption-text">Left to right: The cavernous bookstore at REXKL; artist Ho Chee Jen, creator of the Museum of Disappearance. (Photos: Courtesy of REXKL; Jacky Yeap)</figcaption></figure>
“It’s so interesting to see traditions shifting and people evolving,” muses Scarlet Koon, an architect who co-authored design and architecture travel guide New in the Old: Chinatown Kuala Lumpur in 2022, just as the soaring Merdeka 118 skyscraper was taking shape next door. “The families here are hardworking and always adapting. It’s this vibrancy that really makes the district what it is.” Passionate about documenting the area’s heritage, Koon is a vocal advocate for looking beyond the stereotype that Chinatowns are little more than markets for tourist trinkets and counterfeit designer goods.
<h2>Petaling Street and the Changing Neighborhood</h2>
She also feels a certain way about the name itself. “Personally, I’d prefer people to call it Petaling Street, and that’s not because I think of ‘Chinatown’ as condescending per se. Kuala Lumpur Chinatowns exist around the world, but in <a href="https://destinasian.com/travel-guide/malaysia" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Malaysia</a>, we pride ourselves on being three races. Malays, Chinese, Indians—we’re all Malaysian, so if you say ‘Chinatown,’ it’s as if you are excluding anyone who isn’t Chinese.”
It’s hard to argue with her logic once you become acquainted with this multiethnic enclave. For one, the Sri Maha Mariamman Temple stands alongside Chinese landmarks such as the Chan She Shu Yuen Clan Ancestral Hall and Yan Keng Benevolent Dramatic Association, bearing witness to the presence of South Indian traders since at least 1873.
“Sri Maha Mariamman is the city’s oldest Hindu temple,” Koon continues. “And down the road is Guan Di, a Taoist temple dedicated to the Chinese god of war. Petaling Street has always been a melting pot. Everyone here has been living together harmoniously for so long.” Indeed, the aforementioned Kwai Chai Hong—officially known as Lorong Panggung—appeared on maps as Theatre Street as early as 1889. Its landmark restoration, unveiled in 2019, is widely credited with kick-starting Chinatown’s resurgence.
At first glance, Kwai Chai Hong is all citrus-hued lanterns and giddy tourists vying for selfies in front of interactive murals, the alley’s biggest draw. Yet its name, which translates from Cantonese as “Little Demon Alley,” evokes a far grittier past. Before falling into neglect in the 1960s, this was a notorious hive of iniquity, rife with gambling houses, brothels, opium dens, and gang activities. Today, that shadowy history adds another layer to one of the neighborhood’s most Instagrammed attractions.
<figure id="attachment_163468" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-163468" style="width: 1200px" class="wp-caption aligncenter"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" class="size-full wp-image-163468" src="https://staging.destinasian.com/wp-content/uploads/Kuala-Lumpur-Chinatown-Museum-of-Disappearance-Project.jpeg" alt="The Museum of Disappearance project along Petaling Street reflects on memory, urban change, and vanishing heritage." width="1200" height="900" srcset="https://staging.destinasian.com/wp-content/uploads/Kuala-Lumpur-Chinatown-Museum-of-Disappearance-Project.jpeg 1200w, https://staging.destinasian.com/wp-content/uploads/Kuala-Lumpur-Chinatown-Museum-of-Disappearance-Project-300x225.jpeg 300w, https://staging.destinasian.com/wp-content/uploads/Kuala-Lumpur-Chinatown-Museum-of-Disappearance-Project-1024x768.jpeg 1024w, https://staging.destinasian.com/wp-content/uploads/Kuala-Lumpur-Chinatown-Museum-of-Disappearance-Project-768x576.jpeg 768w" sizes="auto, (max-width: 1200px) 100vw, 1200px" /><figcaption id="caption-attachment-163468" class="wp-caption-text">The Museum of Disappearance project along Petaling Street reflects on memory, urban change, and vanishing heritage. (Photo: Ho Chee Jen)</figcaption></figure>
<h2>Preserving Chinatown’s Identity Amid Change</h2>
More recently, the revitalization of nearby Jalan Sang Guna underscores that Kuala Lumpur Chinatown’s renewal is an ongoing process. The once-dilapidated laneway was reintroduced earlier this year as its own destination rather than a mere shortcut to Petaling Street. More than a streetscape upgrade, the project also pays tribute to the lane’s long association with Chinese opera. A renewed sense of community is palpable, despite the eclectic mix of tenants. Beyond a striking timber archway and storytelling panels celebrating its theatrical legacy, a gelateria and fashion boutique sit alongside an old-school Cantonese eatery and a Chinese prayer supplies store.
“The name doesn’t appear on any major map, but locals always call it Madras Lane,” explains Koon, gesturing to the former site of the Madras Theatre. After the beloved cinema was razed by a fire in 1978, the hawker center at the end of the lane stole the show and continues to thrive today. The adjacent wet market, admittedly, is not for the squeamish—chickens clucking in cages and mystery meats hanging on hooks are a common sight—but the promise of curry mee and chee cheong fun perfected across generations is reason enough to visit.
The visual contrast is almost surreal: modest food stalls operating long hours in the shadow of the sculptural Merdeka 118, which, at 679 meters, has transformed Kuala Lumpur’s skyline. Yet while the skyscraper and other megaprojects can never match Chinatown’s inimitable energy, Ho Chee Jen felt a pull that many of us know well: a deep, instinctive desire to freeze time.
Disheartened by the pace at which familiar faces and places were quietly disappearing, the artist found inspiration in philosopher Michel Foucault’s concept of “heterotopia,” or spaces that embody multiple layers of meaning. “I practically grew up on Petaling Street, so I’m no stranger to these streets,” she says as we venture into secret alleyways and time-trodden backstreets. “But I was around recently, not too far from REXKL, and found myself struggling to recall what once was. I knew something had shifted, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. That’s how the idea for Museum of Disappearance first came about.”
In the absence of conventional exhibits, the open-air urban art intervention features 25 museum-style labels that honor the nonexistent, thereby inviting passersby to reflect on cultural memory and the impact of gentrification on this heritage district. One such label commemorates the now-defunct Popular bookstore at its former site, where cash-strapped students were welcome to read for hours on end.
“Although the concept is deeply personal, the plaques also help bring back a lot of memories for others who have their own relationship with this neighborhood. By placing them in erased spaces, I’m highlighting Foucault’s take on power dynamics. Take graffiti artists, for example—they bypass institutional permission to assert their voice in public spaces.” Ultimately, Ho, who is the first to admit she’s prone to golden-age thinking, urges residents and visitors alike to ask: Who gets to decide what is worth remembering?
<figure id="attachment_163470" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-163470" style="width: 1200px" class="wp-caption aligncenter"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" class="size-full wp-image-163470" src="https://staging.destinasian.com/wp-content/uploads/Kuala-Lumpur-Chinatown-REXKL-Art-Exhibit.jpeg" alt="Large-scale artwork on display at the main hall inside REXKL. " width="1200" height="800" srcset="https://staging.destinasian.com/wp-content/uploads/Kuala-Lumpur-Chinatown-REXKL-Art-Exhibit.jpeg 1200w, https://staging.destinasian.com/wp-content/uploads/Kuala-Lumpur-Chinatown-REXKL-Art-Exhibit-300x200.jpeg 300w, https://staging.destinasian.com/wp-content/uploads/Kuala-Lumpur-Chinatown-REXKL-Art-Exhibit-1024x683.jpeg 1024w, https://staging.destinasian.com/wp-content/uploads/Kuala-Lumpur-Chinatown-REXKL-Art-Exhibit-768x512.jpeg 768w" sizes="auto, (max-width: 1200px) 100vw, 1200px" /><figcaption id="caption-attachment-163470" class="wp-caption-text">Large-scale artwork on display at the main hall inside REXKL. (Courtesy of REXKL)</figcaption></figure>
This article originally appeared in the <a href="https://subscription.destinasian.com/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">August/September 2026</a> print issue of DestinAsian magazine (“The Changing Face of Chinatown”). Buy a single issue or subscribe <a href="https://subscription.destinasian.com/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">here</a>.

Tracking the Renaissance of Chinatown, Kuala Lumpur