Sharing my stories on anti-Asian racism

My history not my memory
Xerox transfer on Japaense paper
10'x 15',  1999

 

 

 

I recently wrote a post for Harvard Fine Arts Library's social media and post about my experiences with anti-Asian racism.

“In the early nineties when I was a college student in a suburb outside Boston, my car was vandalized on the campus parking lot at night. All the windows were smashed, every single wire and tube in the front was cut and dismantled, and there was a message scratched on the side of the car, “KKK was here.” My registration card, which I kept in the glove compartment, was left on the passenger seat, as if to warn me that whoever did this knew who I was and where I lived. The campus police officer to whom I reported the incident, who was in the dominant group, refused to file it as a hate crime. Despite my pleading and the obvious evidence, the incident was only filed as vandalism. I was not offered any kind of emotional support from the college, and I lived in fear for my safety for many months... Read more.

 

My history not my memory, detail

Perpetual Self Discipline
Xerox transfer on Japanese paper, cast glass of dumbbells, video
size variable, 1996 - 1997

Hours Days Weeks Months Years Decades Centuries

Hours Days Weeks Months Years Decades Centuries, No.1
India ink and graphite on paper
22" in diameter
2020 - 2021

I started drawing black circles on a bunch of round papers last fall. I wanted to draw perfect circles, so I gathered all sorts of circular shapes to use as templates—lids of pots and pans, tins that came with candles, a Petri dish, and so on.  I used these tools to draw many different sizes of circles on the round papers. These circles didn’t demand any composition. They preferred randomness and began to multiply. It’s been my nightly activity to draw and paint these black circles each day.

No. 2, detail

I think I know what I’m doing, then I don’t know what I’m doing. I think I’m trying to make sense of the world but I don’t exactly know how to make sense of it all. Maybe intellectually I can see how the world became as it did, but my emotions are all over the place, messy and confusing. I’m afraid that there will be a delayed response. Years from now, we might realize what the year 2020 has done to the core of our beings and the entire world.

 

Or maybe not. 

 

But I know where these black circles came from. 

Hours Days Weeks Months Years Decades Centuries, No.2

In the spring of 2020 when the United States and many other countries around the world were hit by the first wave of the Covid-19 pandemic, I obsessively checked the maps of the coronavirus infection and death rates in the New York Times every day. At that time, both infection rates and death rates were represented as circles on the map. You could see where the hot spots were by looking at the size of the red circles on the coronavirus infection map. The map for the Covid-19 deaths used black circles. The sizes of these circles were growing each day at an exponential rate, to the point that eventually, the New York Times switched to the color-coded maps for each state, because the size of the circles got so big that they started covering the whole state. 

 

Each day, I was horrified looking at those circles growing larger and spreading throughout the country. 

 

Hours Days Weeks Months Years Decades Centuries, No.3

Then, the murder of George Floyd happened, and the Black Lives Matter protests followed. The New York Times was tracking the BLM protests and where the protests were taking place. Again, there was a map. When I first saw the map, I had to do a double take because I was seeing black circles on the map. A strange Deja-vu moment, but immediately followed by hope and joy once I realized what I was looking at. 

 

One night in my studio as I was working on the black circles, I saw the graphite marks shining on the paper against the black. I liked that and started to paint around the graphite marks so that I didn't obscure their shine with ink. I keep adding circles. I’m not sure when it will end or when it is finished. Maybe time will tell. 

 

Or maybe not.

 

No. 3, detail

Mapping

Happy New Year. I hope the 2021 will bring bright hopes, good health, peace and justice for all of us. As I write this, my mind is on Georgia right now.

Looking back on the epic year 2020, the highlight of my artistic activities was being able to install a solo show. Such things are difficult during the pandemic, but I enjoyed every minute of installing the show while wearing a mask. I was re-energized with this prospect of sharing my work with people (in-person and in real space) and realized how important it was for me to feel connected this way. Even though the exhibit was open to the Rivers School community only, but not to the public due to the Covid-19 pandemic, the exhibit was enjoyed by students and faculty at the Rivers School. I particularly enjoyed several positive comments from the students while I was installing “Field Notes, II,” a room-size installation in one of the galleries. 

 

Field Notes, II
Archival pigment print on Tyvek and vellum
98"x 240"x 180"
2016 - 2020

In order to share my work beyond the Rivers School community, I created a virtual exhibit site, so that anybody can view the exhibit from the comfort of their home.

“Mapping” opened at the Rivers School in Weston, Massachusetts on October 19th. 

 

"Extinction Studies" series

As an artist, making art in the studio has been tremendously helpful for me in sustaining a sense of normalcy in my life during the pandemic. My work kept me grounded, so to speak, literally working on a drawing on the floor every day. The life of confinement also gave me new ways of thinking and looking at my old work, and I saw it as an opportunity to experiment with my old work.
 
I presented a couple of new works and new “old” works in this exhibit. The new works are two map drawings from “Extinction Studies” series that are based on historical maps of the Adirondacks in northern New York state.

 

Map of Adirondack Wilderness, 1888

India ink, walnut ink, and ink on paper

86"x 70" (diptych)

2019

 

Two new “old” pieces came out of my reflection on science and belief during the pandemic. “Field Notes, II” is an installation that is composed with images of scientific writings that were hand traced from the whiteboards during my residency at the Broad Institute of MIT and Harvard in 2016–2017. While there I learned that science is rigorous. Scientific knowledge as we come to know it is the result of countless days, months, and years of experiments by scientists working in the lab. Science, as I observed, is driven by the desire to understand the unknown and the courage to go in search of things that might not be knowable. This was where I, as an artist, felt closely in sync with scientists about the way we do our work. This installation, “Field Notes, II,” with layers of the scientific ideas and writings being laid on the floor, calls attention to what makes the groundwork for future scientific discoveries.

 

Field Notes, II, detail

When there are no treatments available, what do we do, where do we go, and how do we deal with the disease, both physically and mentally? I have been asking myself these questions since the pandemic started. We’ve been living with these questions for several months now. In “Accrescence,” which means continual growth, magic spells from ancient medical papyrus were deployed to create new meanings. I included  these magic spells in my work in the past, but the pandemic made me go back to them and look at them in a different way. In this iteration, magic spells (laser cut on vellum) are presented by layering old and found papers that have histories and meanings for me into new and singular works. In this work, layering became important to me. Adding layers of histories to these magic spells, our desire to want to believe in medical treatment is never lost then or now, whether magic spells for ancient people or prayers and hope for vaccines during the pandemic in the 21st century. To me, these pieces speak quietly as a prayer.

 

Accrescence
Installation view
Laser cut on vellum and found papers
Approx. 20"x 14" each
2016-2020

Mapping is one way we come to understand the world by organizing and systemizing layers of information. This organizing helps us understand the scope of data and information in a visual way. But maps do not remain unchanged. To an artist, maps are starting points for new interpretations, experiments, inventions, and actions. In this exhibit, I presented several different bodies of work that are related to mapping and maps. The collecting and organizing of layers of information in science, and the weaving of histories can be seen as my attempt to understand the unknown as well as the time we are in.

 

Thank you for reading and for your ongoing support.
Please stay safe and healthy.