He and his wife first met at the Department of Fine Art of the then- Institute Teknologi Mara (ITM). Mastura (his wife) was a painting major, whilst Tengku Sabri's focus was sculpture. They graduated in 1986 and married a year later.
Tengku Sabri recalls: "At the time, I was living in Ulu Klang with my uncle and a few friends. In 1988, we returned to my hometown, Jerteh, in Terengganu."
There, Tengku Sabri's father, a Tokoh Kraf Negara (Seni Ukir Halus) or National Craft Master (Fine Carving), would play a pivotal role in shaping some of his earliest works, notably the Teleng series featuring wooden deconstructions of the traditional Malay keris hilt.
"I shared a studio with my late father, who specialized in making keris hilts," says Tengku Sabri. As a teenager, he was picking up woodcarving skills and the essence of craftsmanship from his father.
"In the 80s, I was students were encouraged to look back into my culture," says Tengku Sabri. He refers to the penerapan nilai-nilai Islam (the application of Islamic values) that students then were encouraged to adopt.
So he turned to Islamic art for references. Persian miniatures and Malay architecture inspired
At the beginning of the 90s, he moved back to Kuala Lumpur and, for practical reasons, Tengku Sabri's work took off in a different direction.
"There was no more wood and it was hard to get raw materials," he notes. So instead of carving from wood blocks, he moved on to combined or assembled wood constructions (Gunung Daik series).
"I also looked at alternative materials," he says. Wire became a choice and wirework didn't disturb the neighbors.
His influences and works diversified too. "I was looking at Conceptual Art, in particular Fluxus (the art movement)," says the artist, whose works also featured onsite installations and found objects.
Meanwhile, Mastura moved to narrative themes in her paintings - the result of having children. Objects from her new role as a mother were embedded into her works, for example, dolls that their two children played with.
Will their children - now much older - be following in the creative footsteps of their parents? "Our eldest son is thinking about taking up New Media," says Mastura.
Like its name, the current exhibition, Archive, required a hefty amount of excavation work, including poring through old documents and photographs.
Did this bring back memories? "Yes," says Mastura. "And, as I said to my husband, it felt like we were membogelkan diri (stripping ourselves)."
Still, both attest that it's been a good experience to not only express their artistic journey, but also their thoughts and processes. This marks a vital step towards instilling more intellectualism towards art practices.
The exhibition is also a sampler of a bigger exhibition planned for September. Included are some mind maps, illustrated by Tengku Sabri. These are works on paper, notable for their organised web of thought. In particular, a large piece details his definition of the "Malaysian Artist". It features lists, pyramids and illustrations that validate its producer's role as a "thinker", and not merely a "doer" (artist categories in the work).
Facing this is his bookshelf, transported into the gallery, with books and objects intact. It too is beguiling. The books - they encompass literary and historical texts, art books, journals, sketchbooks and exhibition catalogues - are shielded within a grid of twine and the linearity is punctuated by other objects, chiefly smaller sculptures and, at the very top, rest suitcases.
The format recalls works from his inside series - Pertemuan Dalam (Inner Encounter), 2000, and Lampiran Di Dalam 2 (Attachment Inside), 1999, for example. These challenge the viewer in multiple ways. For example, with the artists' possessions corralled, one feels compelled to question the nature of art itself.
"This project is interesting because the artworks can be something else. Here, I have framed or frozen my books. It's all in there, all my references. Artworks in a traditional exhibition are different. Viewers try to give meaning and question why the artist did this or that, but in the case of this exhibition, these items become artifacts," says Tengku Sabri.
In a way, the bookshelf is emblematic of the Archive project as a whole - artists encasing, not just their artworks, but their entire lives for the public to see.
Should more artists unveil themselves in this manner? "Yes, I think sharing is important," says Mastura, who credits their role as art educators as a reason for her view (both artists are attached with the Multimedia University).
What were the personal highlights in their career? "Dia banyak, dia banyak (she has a lot)," says Tengku Sabri, smiling at his wife. Mastura's career has indeed been stellar. She was one of the first Malaysian representatives at the Asia Pacific Triennial of Contemporary Art and her CV is dotted with awards.
Though his CV is equally luminous, Tengku Sabri feels that his biggest accomplishment was the publication of his book, Tanpa Tajuk (Untitled). It borrows its name from a short-lived series of journals published by the artist and the book features all his writings and notes to date.
Alongside ironing out minor bumps for Archive's main exhibition, the two artists are also busy with a project with filmmaker, U-Wei Haji Saari, scheduled for April. "I will be producing five artworks based on his films," says Mastura.
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