To continue my momentum back into art-making and to prepare for the #aZnroom studio tour in September (8-9), I have created what I think is a pretty rigorous curriculum for myself. Apparently homework assignments, even if fake, are the only things that keep me accountable!
And beyond all this, I am starting a new career as the real life Maurice Moss soon! #ITCrowd
Film music video
100 traditional drawings on 7×10″+ paper in 2 weeks
100 digital drawings in 2 weeks
2 paintings in 2 weeks
Draw/paint on 25 paper lanterns in 3 weeks
Fix up Asian dolls from thrift store
(subject to change obvi)
April 26 – Art date with Trina, storyboards for music video and commercial due
May 4 – Film date with Trina
May 11 – 100 traditional drawings due 16 Completed
May 12 – 1st interview with parents RESCHEDULED
May 16 – 1st interview with parents – reflection due RESCHEDULED
May 20 – Film date with Trina CANCELLED
May 24 – Asian dolls fixed
May 25 – 100 traditional drawings – reflection due
June 2 – Film date with Trina
June 14 – 2 paintings due
June 16 – 1st interview with parents
June 19 – 1st interview with parents – reflection due
June 29 – 100 digital drawings due
June 30 – Commercial and music video due
July 20 – 25 lanterns due
July 21 – 2nd interview with parents
July 24 – 2nd interview with parents – reflection due
August 3 – 3rd interview with parents
August 7 – 3rd interview with parents – reflection due
August 24 – Parent interviews finalized timeline due
On March 28, 2018, I sent an email to my parents detailing a new art project involving them. But before I get into that, let me take a step back to college.
In college, Nancy and I would talk about our complex relationships with our parents. She brought up wanting to one day preserve her parents’ stories by videotaping them, documentary-style. I thought that was a real cool idea given that I hardly knew anything about my parents, we had terrible conversations (read: none), and neither party knew the other very well (pretty sure my parents thought I was all “drugs, sex, and rock and roll” in high school when I was the one who literally had to be pulled away from studying on my birthday). A project like that would force us to get to know each other, because force seemed necessary at this point.
My relationship with my parents has ebbed and flowed over the years, somewhat improving because I can talk politics with my dad and I can finally start to acknowledge and move past the flaws in both my parents. Sort of.
Back to March 28, 2018, just a week ago. The email I sent to both of them detailed a sort of “Timeline and Talk” project that I’ve haphazardly named “Where do we come from and where do we go from here?”
Wait – let’s go back one more day to when Trina and I were having an art date and talking about our complex relationships with our parents (it’s a timeless conversation). When I got home that night, I started writing out what I knew about my mum’s life. It was a big block of left to right, top to bottom text with arrows pointing from one thing to the next. There were a lot of gaps. When did she get her driver’s license and what was that experience like?
Then I started writing overlaying my own timeline to compare with hers. I had never thought about how our individual timelines interacted. I wrote out one for my dad and realized that while I talk with him a lot more, I hardly know anything about his life! After that, I sketched out an idea of how to present this as an art exhibit:
I would work with my parents on fleshing out their timeline, then simplifying and generalizing them for public viewing. That would be the “Where we come from” part.
I would display them in that big block of text, our timelines overlaid, enlarged for people to see. Visible, out in the open – so unlike my parents’ generation to be airing out our dirty laundry.
There would be a secondary timeline – a fictional extrapolation of what I think our timelines could look like moving forward from this project. That would be the “Where do we go from here” part.
It would be cathartic, everyone would be like, “wow talking with your parents – wild stuff,” and then they would participate in the interactive portion where they would start writing their timelines, their family timelines, their partner’s/s’ timelines, etc. I can dream.
I get it – I’m super awkward and I don’t know how to ask my parents about their lives. But I do know how to fabricate and facilitate a space wherein we can genuinely learn and share our stories with one another… and I do know how to art.
So I sent that initial proposal to my parents. One of them reacted positively to the project, but also wanted to remain anonymous.
Well, if I can’t make this into an art exhibit, then at least I will have the personal, private satisfaction of getting to know my parents.
You know who you should follow on Instagram? @theaznroom.
Why follow? Because it’s Trina and I building up towards our open studio tour in September, aka a weekend-long exhibit in Trina’s backyard.
Why “the aZn room”? Because that’s the space we’ve claimed to comfortably be whatever it is we define as the “Asian” part of our Asian American identities. When we confine ourselves to our room, we can explore what it is to NOT:
Speak our native languages
Understand why we can’t be just American
Want to be just American
Understand why our families did what they did
Be embarrassed about our smelly food or more efficient brooms
Compartmentalize to cope and survive
… the room is infinite, the world outside is even greater, and the space between is what we dare to tread. Of course, most of it is nonsensically poking fun at stereotypes – and we revel in it. (lol)
Beyond our individual work, we’re also working on a dope series of commercials advertising for this show. Look forward to our top-of-the-charts hit single music video, a home shopping network preview of our work, and more for the limited-time-only low, low price of $Follow @theaznroom.
I’m really bad at updating my website! The one big exciting thing coming up this year is in SEPTEMBER. Trina and I are participating in Verge Center for the Arts’ studio tours in Sacramento. Come check our space out!
I went to see it twice! It was great to finally see works in-person by James Jean, Kehinde Wiley, Audrey Kawasaki, Mark Ryden, Tara McPherson, etc.
But being there made me think about the accessibility of art focused on justice. The first time I went to the show, there were lots of people who walked into the exhibit, exclaiming things like, “Boobs,” and then walking out. I really loved seeing environmental themes throughout the show, but who was it for and what was the point?
If you create an artwork that shows how humans are destroying the planet, what is the purpose? To make a cool image? To get your frustrations out in a beautiful way? Should it inspire change? Should it include more information on what viewers can do to follow-through with your shared frustrations? Is this the low-brow/pop-surrealist visual form of academic circle jerk? Has it achieved its purpose by inspiring a blog from an angst-ridden artist falling into their role as pretentious art critic performing the ritual academic circle jerk?
The second time I went to the show, I got a better look at a digital piece (I stupidly didn’t take note of the artist’s name) that was projected onto a physical frame on the wall, set in front of a couch covered in crocheted (knit? I don’t know the difference) doilies, flowers, and a rat. The digital projection was a combination of stop motion crocheting of different pieces, unraveling and coming together again to form a variety of images, including that of Frida Kahlo. In my Studio Art major mind, this piece was amazing. It spoke to how undervalued textile work is as an art form, partly because it’s “a woman’s art.” It also spoke to how undervalued digital art is compared to traditional works. You could sit on the couch covered in the art projected onto the frame. The physical frame gave the digital work a place on a museum wall, but the work itself still splayed out beyond the edges of the frame.
But saying all of this to my History/Law major partner was just kind of pretentious and lacking context. The art world has its own history and politics. A lot of it is trivial – artists might starve, but in a different way than communities who have no access to clean water. But a lot of it is just a piece of a larger puzzle with many moving pieces. I guess you can’t really starve if you’ve got food for thought, right? :\
Anyway, this piece by Martin Wittfooth was my favorite in the show and I could sit in front of it for hours. This piece was so powerful, and I think it was one of the most accessible as far as being able to understand it without reading a description.
Co-worker Fan Fiction
My co-worker fan fiction is unfolding IRL. I don’t even have to write it. The shout outs to Twin Peaks, Smash Mouth, and Jerry Brown occur organically.
For one of our upcoming events, we just found out that one of the food vendors is gourmet cotton candy literally inspired by SHREK. There is no better fan fiction fodder. #someBODY
I need to not be sick or broken all the time, so I am going to be spending a lot of time on health for the next two months, which also means I can’t afford to spend money on Hacker Lab :C Hoping to return to Hacker Lab in November so I can start using their photography studio, and maybe some other cool stuff. But in the meantime, maybe my focus can shift to healthy living and art.
Other than that, I’ve just been dabbing and dabbling with digital sketches. I’m a slow worker and my art pal Trina knows that (we were supposed to do an Asian art zine together, but man am I slow moving with art @_@;; is what it is).