Can Asian American identity still have a political home?

Can Asian American identity still have a political home?

In his 2022 book Model minority masochismscholar Takeo Rivera argued that the influx of Asian immigrants to the United States after 1965 and the trial of Vincent Chin’s killers in the early 1980s completely changed Asian American identity. The once radical term steadily evolved from its left-wing origins into a neoliberal form of ethno-national pride. Forty years later, we are one of the fastest growing racial groups in the country, with communities as varied as the Stop Asian Hate movement, which has been criticized for its demands for better policingand progressive political organizations such as 18 Million Rising or Korea Peace Now. Is it possible that Asian American identity, with such a wide range of politics, goals and strategies, not to mention cultural practices and heritage, can be a political home for us all?

Against this background, Legacies: Asian American Art Movements in New York City (1969-2001) at New York University’s 80WSE Gallery is a particularly timely exhibition that explores through art and archival materials how Asian American identity resists a unified political or aesthetic narrative. Organized chronologically, the exhibition brings together the work of more than 90 Asian and Asian American artists who lived or spent time in New York between 1969 and 2001, with a particular emphasis on three arts organizations with which many of the artists were associated: Basement Workshop, Asian American Arts Center and Godzilla: Asian American Art Network.

Installation view of archival material from Basement Workshop, 1972–1978 (photo courtesy of 80WSE, NYU)

From Basement Workshop’s abolitionist and anti-war protest art to the biting institutional critique of the anonymous activist group PESTS and Godzilla’s demand for more representation at the Whitney Museum of American Art, Inheritances reveals a range of varied and sometimes contradictory strategies for navigating the art world, whether through ethno-nationalist pride and self-segregation, non-collaboration and critique, or institutional inclusion and assimilation. This feels refreshing, especially when related exhibitions ignore the contradictory nature of Asian American identity and instead function as superficial celebrations of community.

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Witnessing such a convergence of three decades of work underscores how Asian Americans have largely been the sole custodians of Asian American art history, diligently caring for and preserving it. It was fascinating to see certain names pop up repeatedly throughout the exhibition, outlining a family tree and network of relationships. I was happy to see a painting by Margo Machida, whom I recognized primarily as a curator and writer. Machida co-founded Godzilla in the early 1990s and would later become a curator of the historic show Asia/America in ’94, originated at the Asia Society and Museum, and writes several important books on Asian American art history.

Artist Arlan Huang is another returning presence, with posters and album covers from his Basement Workshop days, a 1992 sculpture from his time in Godzilla, and a photo of Corky Lee from his personal collection. Printmaker and activist Tomie Arai, also part of Godzilla, is represented by two screenprinted posters created at Basement Workshop. Arai continued her political work by co-founding Chinatown Art Brigade in 2015, and both she and Huang were among the co-writers of the letter that would ultimately result in the cancellation of a planned Godzilla retrospective at the Museum of Chinese in America (MOCA) in 2021. The disagreements among MOCA leadership, the protesters, and even internally among members of Godzilla provide a succinct introduction to the political situation. divisions within the community, even though all parties would likely say they are working in the best interests of Asian Americans.

In the lobby hangs a large painting by Leo Valledor from 1970 in which a loosely rendered white circle almost fills the round canvas. Paint drips from the bottom of the form and threatens to spill over the edge of the canvas itself. Inheritances functions in the same way; the tightly focused container of race, geography, and time highlights the impossibility of encompassing the “leaky” category of Asian American identity, as Sharon Mizota described it. To get back to my original question: Inheritances argues that Asian American identity is too broad an umbrella to provide a political or aesthetic home for all of us. What requires further analysis is why we expect or desire that.

Legacies: Asian American Art Movements in New York City (1969-2001) continues through December 20 at 80WSE (80 Washington Square East, Greenwich Village, Manhattan). The exhibition was organized by 80WSE curator Howie Chen, Jayne Cole Southard and Christina Ong.

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