Sunday, March 21, 2010
DestinAsian had been forged in the wake of the renewed political activism that followed Sa-i-gu (1992 LA Riots), the ongoing sense of injustice over the Vincent Chin murder (1982 Detroit), and in the footsteps of the larger NY and SF Asian American Arts organizations (Basement Workshop, Godzilla, Kearney Street Workshop). By the time FAAIM came on the scene, the hey-day of multiculturalism from the 80s and 90s was beginning to wane. It wasn't enough to simply organize exhibitions showcasing Asian American art (read Alice Yang's 1998 essay "Asian American Exhibitions Reconsidered" in Why Asia? for a detailed debate on these issues). Gone too were those punk anti-slick political protest aesthetics of the 60s and 70s (see "Is there an Asian American Aesthetics?" Ed. Augie Tam and Gargi Chatterjee 2007). Increasingly we were breaking through to the mainstream. Remember all the APIA success stories heralded by A Magazine and the hype around Justin Lin's 2002 Better Luck Tomorrow? Art school and film school were a given. I remember filmmaker and musician Romeo Candido at one of our "TalkBack" sessions schooling us on the importance of being "on point" with our work. Foregrounding issues of race was not enough. Perfecting our craft was expected and our curatorial premises had to be critical (at least in theory....goofiness seemed to rule the day many times).
This wasn't the old community arts movement anymore. There were pros and cons to this shift. I didn't find myself surrounded as much by multiple generations. In the early years you really would find senior citizens and college kids working together on art shows. Now the movement was decidedly young. Enter the APIA arts generation of Giant Robot. The other shift we began to see was the increase in transnationlism and emphasis on diaspora in the arts. Now we were hip and global cosmopolitans connected 24/7 via Starbucks coffee, blogs, and listservs (this was before Facebook and Twitter et al)!
Then enter 9/11 and the Asian American Artists Collective Chicago (2001-2005) [along with Mango Tribe, YAWP! Project A and Kitchen Poems]. The time had come for us to speak up. It was important for us to stand in solidarity with our fellow Muslim brothers and sisters and Anida Yoeu Ali and Marlon Esguerra of I was Born with Two Tongues led the way. We wanted to warn America not to make the same mistake as we did in WWII with the internment of Japanese Americans. The face of who was involved with Asian American arts had begun to shift. The children of the post-1965 wave of immigrants from all over Asia had come of age. Chinese, Japanese, and Filipino Americans have long been central to Chicago's Asian American arts community but now they were joined by Koreans, Cambodians, Vietnamese, Loations, Hmong, and growing number of transracial Korean Adoptees, mixed race Asians like me and South Asians from India, Pakistan and Bangladesh.
Naturally there were tensions and fault lines in these groups. Usually this had less to do with ethno-racial issues (although equity and parity and gender equality needed to be addressed) and more to do with affiliations by discipline (film, art, music, spoken word, literature, performance etc.) and the extent to which artists wanted or needed to be involved in directly political content or to be defined under the umbrella of "Asian America." I think it's important to note both the limitations and the benefits of pan-Asian American interdisciplinary arts organizing. It is still important for ethnic specific arts organizations such as Pintig and Desilit the Chicago Filipino American Film Festival to exist to build and reflect specific communities and to foreground thier histories, stories and issues. It has also been useful for Asians in American to work across ethnic lines in groups devoted to specific disciplines (comedy, theatre, music...) such as: Stir Friday Night, Silk Road Theatre Project, A Squared Theatre Workshop, the Asian Improv aRts Midwest Asian American Jazz Festival.
Depending on how you look at things, Chicago's Asian American art scene has been blessed and burdened by it's unique characteristics. Too little funding and institutionalization has instilled an underground DIY culture of volunteerism (and burn out and maxing of your personal credit cards for the sake of art). Colleges such as the School of the Art Institute of Chicago bring a constant flow of new artists from around the world, Korea in particular, who come to this city to make their mark in the arts. As a center for education, it also means that many of these same artists just pass through Chicago on their way to careers in NY or LA or back in Korea, Japan, or China etc. This helps extend our networks but it also means that some of the best don't stay. We suffer from "Second City" syndrome. Where are the funders and collectors? This all makes us tough and a little skeptical of the marketplace. We are perfectly at home curating a show in a gritty alternative space as well as a polished gallery. We can be the directors and have no qualms about making lunch for the crew. We'll be on stage and run the AV and PR and check your coat!
But surely it's better on the coasts? Because we don't have the shear numbers of ethnic specific populations that you see on the coasts, we are more apt to reach across ethnic lines to work together on pan-Asian projects and to also find deep and meaningful affiliations with other communities of color. Chicago's strengths in theater, jazz, indie rock and spoken word have dominated the scene. All of these factors have helped create our unique arts community.
On March 20, 2010 the Foundation for Asian American Independent Media (FAAIM) held their first ever fundraiser for the Asian American Showcase. It's taken a while to ask for the $! Special thanks to Tim Hugh for directing the showcase for the past 10-years!
Here are some snapshots from the event held at Andrew Bae Gallery 300 W. Superior Chicago, IL http://www.andrewbaegallery.com/
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
A retrospective featuring over thirty selected paintings, drawings and textiles (1995-present) from her Refrigerator, Hapa Soap Opera, Loving, Aloha Dreams, and Devon Avenue Sampler series as wellas some early and new works on exhibit for the first time. Kina's art collectively embraces "ikigai" or the Japanese belief of "a sense of life worth living" and reflects her "postcolonial pop aesthetic" as a multiracial Okinawan Jewish artist/educator/scholar living in a South Asian Indian neighborhood in Chicago.
April 2nd - May 30th
Gene Siskel Film Center Café Gallery
Opening reception, Friday, April 2nd from 6-8pm
Glance quickly at a Laura Kina painting and what comes to mind at first is Hello Kitty goes to Bollywood in Pearl Harbor by a Coca Cola sign. Or surely Pop gone haywire as the resultant byproduct the artist creates deftly fuses these loaded icons into a NeoPop Orientalism or less ironical Post Japonisme of East morphing West and vice versa not just Americanized but transnationalized.
Yet to label her oeuvre strictly as such is an injustice because what you also see ostensibly hybridizes the anecdotal and historical, family and society, private and public conflated through collage of art imitating, or drawing from, life, particularly her life as a mixed Asian "hapa haole" alternately fascinated, bemused and obsessed with being in-between.
Which is why upon a closer look describing her artistic process akin to “Love is a Many-Splendored Thing” is so apt. Picture, if you recall, Jennifer Jones as a forlorn Eurasian doctor atop a hill overlooking Kowloon Bay in Hong Kong pining for her lover, a married journalist returned to America played by William Holden and come to understand why Kina’s version of her floating world so much resembles the movie itself. Indeed, both “colorfully” depict mixed race representations beyond accepted cultural norms except that Hollywood in this maudlin adaptation based on true events really does exoticize the subject matter as taboo whereas Kina selectively reinvents the nonfictional into the fictive Asian American mainstream. Not commercially slick as something pejorative but professionally crafted by her ability to wield a brush with facility, precision and grace to be part artifice, partly romantic. So not only is it dramatization but autobiography beyond pop culture in collision with Pop Art.
And that is her genius: Kina circumvents the so-called “multicultural” melodrama instead preferring a more straightforward approach celebrating the sameness of difference that in doing so resists the role of victim inherent to the book, movie or song with a good-natured smile, bright colors and an even sunnier disposition as it were. But this is not to say that her overall work is apolitical. Nothing could be further from the truth as she constantly confronts the status quo not in search of but to challenge identity as a given. In fact, her practice seems centered on the question about how such multiplicities that constitutes the Asian American Diaspora become seamlessly perceived if not understood as in her series of life-sized portraits in charcoal dealing with the famous Loving vs. Virginia Supreme Court case.
By this then, “many” to Kina is not so much an adjective as it functions as a conceptual directive. Bringing many things together, occupying many places at once belies the generalization of how she combines and recontextualizes the multitude of bits and pieces into layered, oftentimes multiple paneled compositions full of the recognizably everyday versus the intimately arcane. A swatch of fabric belonging to her maternal grandmother, floral patterns from kimonos, a snippet from a favorite Brady Bunch episode, an old black and white family photograph, these very personal images never appear detached as if truncated or worse amputated but rather beautiful because Laura loves to share a glimpse of her past. So true to form, she bends time, dovetails related events and mixes mass media which, of course, compels the viewer to acknowledge and advocate "ikigai" or the Japanese belief of "a sense of life worth living."
The work on display covering almost the last fifteen years reflects this attitude of a world we are very much curious about and a vital part of. Now just be happy to see the way Laura Kina lightens the gravity by which everyone walks through it nimbly and sprightly.
~ Larry Lee, March 15, 2010.