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 THE NEW WOMAN AND THE MODERN GIRL The synesthetic Organ “the New Woman and the Modern Girl” is part of “SOUNDS” curated by Michael Lewis Miller at the El Camino College Art Gallery. PUBLIC RECEPTION: Saturday, September 10, 2:00 to 5:00 p.m. 16007 Crenshaw Blvd., Torance CA. 90506 (310) 660 – 3010 Gallery Hours: Monday & Tuesday: 10:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m. Wednesday: 10:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. Thursday: 12:00 p.m. to 4:00 p.m. Visitors Parking is in the student lots except J or K.  SOUNDS This is an exhibit exploring sounds in contemporary art, featuring Fatemeh Burnes, Robert Hilton, Tom Jenskins, Elana Mann, Mei Xian Qiu, Peter Rice and Susan Silton. These explorations are compelling and varied, ie. creating an entire alternate musical vocabulary, birdsong as language, painting, and synesthetic storytelling.  THE NEW WOMAN AND THE MODERN GIRL is a synesthetic organ composing of 12 notes, corresponding to each month of the year of a prewar Shanghai Beautiful Girl Calendar. The Shanghai beautiful girl models represented the epitome of beauty and glamour, and at the same time Westernization, depravity, and Western commerce. Every note has an image, a corresponding sound, and variation of the fictional perfume “Shanghai 1928.” The notes are housed in a recreated hutong which invites the visitor to spend time playing the organ by seeing, listening and smelling, and finally relaxing on wooden couches and partaking of treats. The New Woman and the Modern Girl is an interactive story that allows the viewer to come to his or her own conclusions. In the “woman question” discourse in China in the earlier half of the 20th Century, the New Woman represented a positive view towards modernity and womanhood as ideal mothers and citizens, while the Modern Girl represented the struggle for women to find their own voice in a changing world.  INVITATIONThe Artist invites the Visitor inside the Hutong . The Artist invites the Visitor to view, smell and listen to each of the 12 notes. The Artist invites the Visitor to PUSH the white buttons to listen to each note.The Artist invites the Visitor to use the SAMPLE TESTER to smell each note (variations of the perfume Shanghai 1928), by. 1) smelling the stone, or 2) dripping a drop on the stone, or 3) wearing the perfume on the wrist or behind the ears.The Artist invites the Visitor to sit on the wooden couches, ponder, converse, and nibble on treats provided in the bowl.  |
Author Archives: rosebud
The Soldier in the Mirror
| THE SOLDIER IN THE MIRROR and FUNDACION YAXS It has been a privilege to collaborate on an art investigation and participate in a residency with Fundacion YAXS, in Guatemala City, Guatemala. The investigation, titled The Soldier in the Mirror, uses the cultural and artistic archives of the foundation as springboards to creating profoundly experimental work. The Soldier in the Mirror consists of used U.S. government munition tins and mirrors, and employs real and semblances of violence to consider the inability for individual disengagement within a globalized economy from the greater socio-political theatre. ARCHIVES The archives of Fundacion YAXS are cloud based documentary memories of the cultural and artistic legacies of Guatemala and its people, existing outside of intense immediate and systemic pressure to dilute, erase, or alter such legacies. See https://www.yaxs.org |
ROLE OF CONTEMPORARY ART Working on a Fundacion YAXS investigation is invariably a practice shifting or fine tuning process. YAXS, through Paulina Zamora, mentors an artist to look at the foundation’s art and cultural archives from different perspectives, in order to arrive at work that can take off the mantel and taint of old outmoded paradigms, create something quite new and startlingly raw-skinned.
In the words of the foundation, “we are at a time when the arts are the last great territory of freedom of expression, and therefore, they must expand the breaking points that they exert on the system, strengthening the radical idea that artistic productions play a primordial role in the processes of subjectivation and socialization, and that art should be part of the symbolism of a culture not as an object of consumption but as an element for the construction of opinion, criteria and evaluation.”
THE SOLDIER IN THE MIRROR This investigation consisted not only of going to Guatemala, but of watching and studying a great number of propaganda films within the foundation’s archives, to “hartazgo,” or to that point beyond satiety. As an artist who addresses propaganda in its myriad of forms and effects, I ask — how can we process mixed truths, partial truths, created stories, denial stories of patterns of genocides, their causes, and their long elaborated historical foundations? Within the history of Guatemala, from the guerilla war, the toppled democratically elected president Jacabo Arbenz, the assassination of Bishop Juan Jose Gerardi, other political machinations, and United Fruit are disturbing parallels to my own Indonesian history.
We must consider our own role as an actor and consumer within the world theatre, whether intentional or not.
During the investigation, used US Military munition tins were obtained to be used not so much as decoys but as the vessel substitute — to shoot at within a 200 hundred yard range using .22 ammo. This action creates a series of examinations. The first examination is how rifle and shotgun feel in the hand, their power and inherent danger. Then the weapons force an almost automatic weighing and balancing of the role of self and the other, hunter and hunted, aggressor and victim, the strong and the weak. The third introspection is an almost Zen like state where the weapon and the human holding it almost become one; where every breath, every heartbeat is observed, significant, and must be completely in sync if the weapon is to find its mark. Lastly and chiefly, is the observation of the ingress and egress wounds of the bullets on the vessels, and the odd but potent realization the egress points are the gravest.If you know of who would be interested in showing this work, please let me know.
RESIDENCY The residency is housed in a revived colonial building in the heart of Zone 1 of Guatemala City. Inside the building are writers and definers of contemporary Latin American culture. Going to Guatemala was a revelation. I found a country rich in people and soul, but with deeply rooted challenges that forces awareness of how active and enduring must be our struggle for equity, which can only happen with an appreciation and discourse of past inequities and injuries.
I was fortunate to be able to be able to work with, under the auspices of Fundacion YAXS, artists Paolo Spalletti, Inez Verdugo, and Manuel Chavajay – in community engagement in San Pedro, on the sublime shores of Lake Atitlan, a place of spiritual and historical meaning.
Ping Pong at Art Basel 2021
NOMAD
August 28th – August 29th, 2021, noon-5pm
Medical Building, Del Amo Crossing: 21535 Hawthorne Blvd, Torrance, CA
The Torrance Art Museum (TAM) presents Nomad — this summer’s premier art event and the biggest pop-up of contemporary art in SoCal history featuring over 400 artists.
Nomad is a one-weekend only pop-up event for artists, by artists, to reforge our connections to each other in real life and to make new friends. It is for our audiences to once again commune with us through our practices. It is for curators and gallerists to catch up with what we have been doing in our studios over this isolating past year. We will come together to witness the power and value of engaging with art in person.
Art Talk
Tufenkian Fine Arts : Crossroads, Crossings and Convergence
Pacific Asia Museum:
We Are Here: Contemporary Art and Asian Voices in Los Angeles
Asian communities in Los Angeles abound with diversity. A multitude of ethnicities and nationalities from across the Asian continent are present here. Residents have sought fresh new opportunities, arriving as refugees, economic migrants, students, or professionals. In celebration of these communities, USC PAM presents seven dynamic female contemporary artists who embody the vitality of our city’s Asian populations. Each of these artists speak to the fluidity of an individual’s sense of place and self. Their artworks spark important conversations about the creation of art, memory, and meaning in complex social and cultural spaces. The galleries are interwoven with narratives that give voice to L.A. while simultaneously speaking to the transnational reality of life in the twenty-first century
With my work, I want not only the viewer to know that they are never alone in any of the minute or grand of human experiences, but also to look at ideas of culture, inter culturalism, and identity both imposed and invented in a more expansive way. – Mei Xian Qiu
Mei Xian Qiu (b. 1964) expands from her personal history to develop visually rich artworks that challenge viewers to consider the boundary between illusion and reality. Qiu was born on the Indonesian island of Java to a Chinese minority family who fled persecution. Her parents gave her three names (Chinese, Indonesian, and American) as a protective act to prepare her for multiple futures. The two designations she uses for her artwork are rooted in those names: Mei Xian Qiu, on her birth certificate but illegal under Indonesian law, and Cindy Suriyani, from “Cinderella” and the Malay Indonesian name meaning “sunny.”
In the aftermath of extreme anti-Chinese riots, her family immigrated to the United States and continued to move between the U.S. and Indonesia throughout her childhood. As she passes between cultures, Qiu navigates the three aspects of herself and continues to explore her transnational character. Qiu plays with archetypes and creates layered artworks that are rich in metaphor and meaning. Through photography, she treads a precarious line and speaks to the displacement she experiences as a result of her multiple heritages.
Three series are featured in this gallery; each reflects the artist’s experience traveling between China, Indonesia, and the U.S. Let a Thousand Flowers Bloom references Mao Zedong’s 1956 speech commencing a short-lived artistic and intellectual renaissance in China that ultimately resulted in a crackdown on independent thought. Homecoming: Once we were the Other was born from Qiu’s return to her mythical homeland. Through excavation of waste, Qiu captures a macro landscape that embraces the tension she felt during a residency in Beijing. In Dewi Cantik (Pretty Darling), Suriyani reexamines the Java of her childhood. Surrounded by rich colors, upbeat energy, and family stories, she cuts through layers of photographs to uncover the dichotomy between difficult realities and the comforting fictions used to cover them.
Lenscratch
LENSCRATCH: KEN WEINGART INTERVIEWS MEI XIAN QIU
By Ken WeingartMay 10, 2018
©Mei Xian Qui
Today, we are sharing an interview that photographer and blogger, Ken Weingart conducted with photographer Mei Xian Qiu. Ken has been producing interviews for his Art and Photography blog, and he has kindly offered to share a his interviews with the Lenscratch audience.
Mei Xian Qiu is a Chinese, American, and Indonesian fine art photographer. Mei’s work is rich in metaphor and meanings, and she has had tremendous success. In the following interview, she opens up about her history and how her unique visualizations came to be.
Mei Xian Qiu is a Los Angeles based artist. She was born in the town of Pekalongan, on the island of Java, Indonesia, to a third generation Chinese minority family. At birth, she was given various names in preparation for societal collapse and variant potential futures, a Chinese name, an American name and an Indonesian name given by her parents, as well as a Catholic name by the local priest. In the aftermath of the Chinese and Communist genocide, the family immigrated to the United States. She was moved back and forth several times between the two countries during her childhood – her parents initial reaction to what they perceived as the amorality of life in the West countered with the uncertainty of life in Java. Partially as a result of a growing sense of restlessness, her father joined the U.S. Air force and the family lived across the country, sometimes staying in one place for just a month at a time. She has also been based in Europe, China, and Indonesia as an adult.
©Mei Xian Qui
How old were you when you moved to the United States, and how has being Chinese and American informed your art?
I moved to the U.S when I was four to escape persecution in Indonesia. My family lived in Indonesia for three generations, since the 1880’s. Coming from a very conservative country, my parents wanted to frame their lives differently. Although they felt a certain exultation from this new freedom, they perceived the U.S. as an amoral place and not a place to raise children.
Hence, they gave all their children away, and I was sent back to Indonesia. My mother separated from my father and decided she wanted her family back. She and my father began the difficult process of reclaiming their four children. Since that time, I have moved back and forth several times.
Inter-culturalism is interesting and often complex. My work stems directly from being Chinese, American, and Indonesian. My view of Chinese culture is necessarily fantastical, because I grew up where being Chinese was illegal and we had no access to Chinese culture in terms of traditions or morays. At the same time, we were labeled as Chinese and persecuted. In my work, I try to create a “Chinese” history in self-reinventions — skewed and out of whack, and completely unrestricted.
My main cultural identity has been American and Los Angelino, with a view towards the East like something out of a dream. My work is clearly American (as opposed to Chinese), especially in the way the subjects challenge the viewer with the directness of their gaze.
©Mei Xian Qui
When did you become an artist, and how did photography start to play a role in that?
Probably from my mother’s belly! My caretakers would ask me to stop drawing and go outside to play with my friends. My life history posed questions that I had to tackle in an open handed way.
Photography was an outgrowth of painting. It is an ideal medium for me because photographs bombard an average 21st century human on a daily basis, combining commercial and political propaganda with images of personal and societal history. I find this daily merging of fiction and reality interesting. I want my work to have that illusion and connection to reality.
©Mei Xian Qui
How do you like living in Los Angeles? What are the pros and cons, and is there somewhere else you would like to be?
Perhaps it’s the connection to cinema, but from when I arrived in Los Angeles at sixteen, I felt this freedom — this relative tolerance of differences, ideas, and exploration. It took me a few years to get accustomed to the landscape, the colors and the even the architecture, but I’ve now acquired a deep appreciation for these characteristics. I would like to be in a lot of places. I miss Indonesia for instance, but am unsure if what I miss still exists.
Your newest series Qilin and Let a Thousand Flowers Bloom have a lot of deep and diverse things going on. Can you distill for the layman what you are trying to say?
A simple distillation would be that the work presents an eroticized Rorschach to view our shifting perceptions, which are impermeable and unchanging. We live in an internal self-imposed landscape of an increasingly global monoculture. Who are we and what will we become, as seemingly indigenous cultural origins become more and more attenuated? Does our view of ourselves start to resemble how others view us at its most trite, streamlined and iconic?
A Qilin (Qi–male, lin–female) is an amalgamated Chinese creature, a hybrid of real and imaginary beings, and an ancient compass to the West. It pushes the work of Let a Thousand Flowers Bloom to its most dualistic, hybridist components.
In the image Cherry Blossoms from this series, there is a woman beautifully dressed in front of slaughtered animals. What is the meaning of this? Did you photograph the animals or have them imported into the shot?
To understand this image, it is useful to look at the general outlines of the series Let a Thousand Flowers Bloom. Mao Zedong quoted a classic Chinese poem, “Let a hundred flowers bloom. Let a hundred schools of thought contend.” In a great society, different points of view and free expression should prevail. As a result, intellectuals and artists came out of hiding, living for this “beautiful idea,” even though they must have known it would be ultimately fatalistic, by creating a utopian kernel inside a dystopian vision.
The photographs portray a mock annexation of the U.S. by the Chinese, creating a hundred flowers movement here. The actors in the photographs are American artists or academics specializing in Chinese history — the very group targeted in the hundred flowers movement. The Chinese uniforms come from a Beijing photo studio where cultural revolution imagery is re-enacted by foreign tourists. The uniforms are brought home as souvenirs.
In this particular image, the woman is wearing a classical Chinese dress called a qipao, considered outmoded and “anti-modern,” in contemporary China, where Western pop culture and fashion are wholeheartedly embraced. She is holding cherry blossoms, a symbol of feminine domestic power and the dominance of beauty.
©Mei Xian Qui
In image 8990, you have two gay soldiers, one Chinese and the other American, embracing in front of a deer in the forest. What is the symbolism here and did you use stock imagery for this background?
If soldiers were countries, what would they do? That was my initial question, since soldiers were sometimes the only contact one country had with another. Countries courted, fought, and got into bed with one another. I used two male soldiers because I did not want gender roles to be part of what the image was about, and I found it made sense formally as well.
In terms of the symbolism of the deer, they were associated with high remuneration and often historically depicted in Chinese art with government officials. I did not use stock imagery for the background. It is a bit of a play upon a play, with a slight dig at Chinese contemporary art — its political, moral, and aesthetic censorship, while its artists deal with issues such as control, war, and Western influence.
©Mei Xian Qui
Image 8801 has a scantily clad woman in front of a poster of AK-47’s. Are you trying to juxtapose sexiness with war?
My work is most often highly subversive, dealing with popular iconography, stereotypes, and persistent viewpoints of gender and culture. War is ultimately about power. We have always been surrounded by stories in one form or another of sex, conflict and dominance—and the prestige that goes with it—that we use to define ourselves. If the function of an artist is to be a trickster of sorts, then we break down these stories and reconstruct them.
In this photograph, what has been made to be significant and what has been diminutized? In the lower right hand corner of the picture, there is a scattering of Chairman Mao badges that were once ubiquitous during the Cultural Revolution. Now they have been regurgitated as tourist souvenirs at countless Chinatowns around the world. Many of them have Mao’s 1962 poem written on them; “The plum blossom is delighted. The sky is full of snow.”
©Mei Xian Qui
You are using the Plexiglas process for your prints. How did you learn about this, and what are the advantages?
My background is as a painter, and my photographs are quite painterly, with heavy layers of velvety pigment. The Plexiglas boxes were made to resemble a cross between three dimensional souvenir boxes and a reverential sort of stained glass. When I was a child growing up in post colonial Java, I would be woken at 5:00 a.m. to walk for an hour to the only Western style building in the village, a small cathedral (we had been converted from Buddhism by missionaries). At 6:00 a.m. every Sunday, the equatorial light would shine brilliantly through the stained glass and play upon the dust motes in the air.
To me, it held the magic and promise of the West. The variables of light through an image are important in my work, as they are a metaphor for the shades of identity and the multi-dimensionality of truth.
©Mei Xian Qui
How was the experience at Art Basel? What happened and what did you learn?
I learned that the art world is small. You would consistently meet friends from different parts of the world at the fairs.
What do you want to achieve in the future, and are you working on a new series yet?
I would like to add sculptural and installation components. I want to keep working on my series, and follow it through its natural progression.
©Mei Xian Qui
Photo of Mei Xian Qiu by Ken Weingart
Podcast Interview
Podcast Interview with Mei Xian Qiu
by on in Interviews – Fine Art Photographers
Mei Xian Qiu is a Chinese, American, and Indonesian fine art photographer. This is the second interview with Mei — the first since the audio podcast was launched. Mei’s work is rich in metaphor and meanings, and she has had tremendous success. In the following interview, she opens up about her history and how her unique visualizations came to be.
All Photos © Mei Xian Qiu
Photos of Mei Xian Qiu by Ken Weingart
A Hundred Flowers Bloom When China Invades
Open SearchPosted inOpinion
A Hundred Flowers Bloom When China Invades
by An XiaoApril 26, 2012Print
Mei Xian Qiu, “8099” (all images courtesy the artist)
LOS ANGELES — In 1957, Mao Zedong launched the Hundred Flowers Campaign. It was to be a glorious liberalization, an flourishing of the arts, intellectualism and culture. A few weeks later, threatened by the tide of criticism sweeping in, the Communist Party would crack down on their blooming flowers. Mao’s declaration to “let a hundred flowers bloom” is often mistranslated as “Let a thousand flowers bloom.”
Mei Xian Qiu, “In the Manner of Gabrielle D’Estrees”
Let a Thousand Flowers Bloom, a photographic series by Los Angeles artist Mei Xian Qiu, pays reference to this brief period in Chinese history. The first place winner of the 2012 juried competition at the Los Angeles Center for Digital Art, Flowers is a series of digital photos on Plexiglas that depict, as Qiu’s introductory placard says, “a Chinese takeover of the United States.”
The installation at LACDA creates an ominous vibe to the show, as two of the men from the photos kiss in black-and-white slow motion while an ambient soundtrack resounds through the space. But the takeover, far from a bloody invasion, is filled with cherry blossoms, a “sweet conceit of romance and violence,” as Qiu writes in her 2011 statement.
Qiu plays with this inversion and cross-cultural exchange further by working not with Chinese nationals but “Pan Asian Americans who could be perceived as Chinese,” as well as artists and academics who study classical China. The military uniforms themselves come from a photography studio in Beijing that allows foreign visitors to re-enact images from the Cultural Revolution. And the battle more often comes in the form of kissing and holding flowers.
AThe images, already strong, are just the start of a larger series exploring this topic. Qiu tells me she has plans to do “different storylines,” with “different little substories of the main story.” Qiu’s series, like China’s rise on the world stage, is complex and fascinating.Mei Xian Qiu, “8990”