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Critical Mass: Hope @ St. Hope
- Flo Oy Wong
Rice Sacks
for the People
- Barbara Hatchett
Angel Island History
- William WongRice
Flo Oy Wong:
Storyteller and Cultural Worker
- B. Stephen Carpenter, II
Flo Oy Wong: Honoring
- Jan Rindfleisch
Art AsiaPacific
Review
- Collette Chattopadhyay
Baby Jack Rice Story
- Terri
Cohn
Flo
Oy Wong Saves Lives
- Joy Ritchie
Bill Whisp Essay
- Bill Whisp
A Chinese Griot
- Kim Curry-Evans
Telling Untold Stories
- Melanie Anne Herzog |
Art AsiaPacific Review
Issue 36 (2002)
Collette Chattopadhyay
Flo Oy Wong – United States
Flo Oy Wong’s recent works, shown at the
Japanese American National Museum in Los Angeles, explore
issues of family and community history in relation to ethnicity,
nationality and identity. A collaboration of installations
which examines the nature of what it means to be an American
of Chinese ancestry, Wong’s art bears similarities to
literary biographies and autobiographies inasmuch as it constructs
narratives of individual lives and experiences.
The exhibition opened with made in usa:
Angel Island Shhh, 2000, an installation comprising a
suite of wall-hangings, beneath which were small bowls of
raw rice dyed red, white or blue. While the rice functions
as a symbol of Asian eating habits, its colouration wryly
references the American flag, announcing in the process a
theme of Americanisation. The wall-hangings themselves play
off the legacies of both Chinese and American art traditions.
While their physical fabric-based essence alludes to classical
Chinese hanging scrolls, they lack the usual vertical orientation,
bamboo supports, silk brocade backgrounds and ink-brush imagery
that characterize traditional scrolls. Simultaneously, they
nod towards the western tradition of stretched canvas paintings,
but follow that tradition no more than they do the inherited
traditions of the East. For although easel-sized, horizontal
images, the works are neither stretched on wooden frames nor
painted with oil or acrylic. Intentionally conflating existing
art-object categories, these component images raise the theme
of bi-cultural identity, suggesting its multilayered state
of consciousness as one that steps beyond the usual borders
of nationality, culture, and even racial origin.
Thematically, Angel Island Shhh depicts
individual immigration stories dating back to the early twentieth
century. These are narrated by means of stenciled lettering
hand-stamped onto cloth rice sacks, which in turn are machine-sewn
onto fabricated American flags. Each image presents the story
of a Chinese-born individual who emigrated to the United States
through the Angel Island Immigration Station in San Francisco
Bay. Although each experience is mounted on an American flag,
the flags are almost obscured by the rice sacks, suggesting
the exaggerated emphasis on heritage that Chinese and Asian
émigrés often face in the United States. Furthermore,
the scroll-cum-paintings collectively have a homogeneous appearance
that mocks what for decades has been perceived as a general
Euro-American insensitivity to distinguishing individuality
among Chinese Americans.
The installation focuses exclusively on the
early twentieth century when American immigration laws discriminated
against Chinese people through a series of exclusionary Acts
established in 1882. Under these laws, Chinese-American citizens
were allowed to bring children and siblings into the United
States, but not spouses. This engendered the forging of secret
identities whereby wives entered the United States claiming
to be aunts or sisters, while husbands entered as uncles or
brothers.
The complexities of such identities are further
explored and deconstructed in Wong’s suitcase installation,
My Mother’s Baggage: Paper Sister/Paper Aunt/Paper
Wife, 1998. With a reference to Duchamp’s Green
Box, 1934, which was produced in an edition of 300, My
Mother’s Baggage transform six ordinary suitcases,
that once belonged to Wong’s mother, into a collection
of ready-mades. Unlike Duchamp’s work, which accentuates
the replication of an image, Wong’s installation uses
luggage as a metaphorical link between an initial physical
journey and a life-long evolution of exterior and interior
identities. Hidden within each suitcase are faded sepia photographs
and collaged words that recount the perennially shifting layers
of truth and fiction that were implicit in the émigré
experience of Wong’s mother. What unfolds is a biographical
narrative of double-consciousness that emphasizes the legal
and personal dilemmas experienced by women who came to the
United States to join their husbands, but who were officially
restricted by the United States government from entering as
wives. Assuming ‘paper’ identities as sisters
and aunts who married ‘paper’ husbands in name
only, they and their Chinese-born children led complicated
lives in the United States where the line between what was
legal and illegal was continually blurred.
Wong’s most recent work, Kindred Spirit,
2001 suggests that the hybrid identity of Chinese-Americans
is not yet something of the past. This installation pays tribute
to Los Alamos National Laboratory scientist Wen Ho Lee, who
was recently imprisoned by the United States Justice Department
on suspicion of espionage. Set against a crimson silk background,
an off-white, quilted rice sack strained by 278 bags of oolong
tea, Kindred Spirit presents selected details of
Wen’s clash with American rules and regulations. Accentuating
themes of displacement and alienation, this work extends into
the present the struggles for equality that continue to define
the experiences of Asian-Americans.
Flo Oy Wong: Angel Island, Immigration and
Family Stories, Japanese American National Museum, Los Angeles,
29 September 2001-31 March 2002.
Reprinted with permission from Collette Chattopadhyay,
2003
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