In the cramped Shanghai alleyways where I grow up, kids gather every evening to share their moms’ cooking and magical fantasies. It was a time when I would travel the dark, narrow lanes to map the complex network of the alleyways. I filled my sketchbook with the most exciting and bizarre drawings. I scribbled my thoughts around every sketch as William Blake did with his drawing of Laocoon. Mapping was my means to make sense of my hometow n—its movement and limit, sound and silence, and language and form. In 2016 at the exhibition Bouchra Khalili: The Mapping Journey Project in MoMA, I rediscovered a place where narratives transform perspectives. At the sight of the screens, I felt at once familiar and strange. What at first looked beautiful and novel enveloped me with a haunting narrative. It amazed me how Khalili was able to use the mapping project to challenge hegemonic narratives about migration and displacement. From the exhibition, I realized that I, too, am an artist, for I was changing the standard narrative under the larger socio-political forces that were unknown to me at the time.
Twelve years after moving out of the alleyways, I consider myself as much of an American as I am a Shanghainese. I dedicate myself to acting as a cultural conduit to both cultures, knitting together the binary sides of my identity. As an organization committed to bringing diversity to the greater public, the Creative Process offers me an opportunity to join a passionate group of cultural influencers, whose transformative power in shaping the voice comes through the wonder of arts.
The wonder of arts, as I come to believe, is a nexus of human passions. In the spirit of the Creative Process’ extensive collaboration with other cultural agencies, I would like to share a personal incident that demonstrates a kindred commitment. One night as I was reading Virginia Woolf’s essay “Modern Fiction,” I drew a connection that remains intellectually enlightening for me. The focus on perception and consciousness over observation and appearance is reflected in Leonardo da Vinci’s early work Study of a Tuscan Landscape and also in the Swiss architect Bernard Tschumi’s argument that architecture could be defined through an analysis of movements and events rather than through the combination of spaces. I come to find a sharing concern among the three artists whose works speak against the effort to fix with precision, an artistic practice that contradicts with the nature of our senses — that of “an incessant shower of innumerable atoms.” It is an intriguing comparison — considering the time difference — and a more effective analogy than associating Woolf’s narrative with that of an impressionist painting, for arts is a dialogue with fortuitous answers, revealing selves across time, space, and medium. An art museum is thus the carrier of the dialogue and the focal point of ongoing debates. I came to this conclusion with the help of Professor Shih-shan Susan Huang. In her Chinese Art History Class, I discovered my interest in curatorial research while drafting an exhibition proposal. The proposal examines the virtue of “water” through its artistic, philosophical, and religious values following the lens of an ancient Chinese craftsman, an erudite scholar, and a devout worshipper. I chose this subject because the discussion of “water” as a theme separated from the shan-shui (mountain-water) landscape has not often been investigated in the study of Chinese arts. However, the study of “water” was not the most exciting part of the project. In the course of my research, Professor Huang encouraged me to consider “water” not only of its artistic content but also of its presentation and its meaning in the current sociopolitical context. This study awakens my sensibilities to a new understanding of an art exhibition; I no longer see a collection of arts as a cabinet of curiosities. I learned that, by anchoring our place in the past, we become able to inspire possibilities for the future.
Due to my personal background, I am thrilled to work with the Creative Process to build diversified perspectives in exhibiting culture and arts. I believe a comprehensive understanding of our “creative process” outside of the “products” themselves is equally important to establish a creative experience. My summer training at AND/2Portzamparc on the Suzhou Cultural Centre led me to a personal belief that public spaces become closer in function to the church than to the educational institutions. A public space, in the case of a creative network, is a site of reflection where the public is encouraged to actively compare, establish, and reaffirm their personal values. My current study on museums and cultural heritage further challenge me to make decisions beyond aesthetic and artistic choices. My recent research on two distinct models in Houston - the Pre-Columbian Gallery at Museum of Fine Arts, Houston and the Stonehenge special exhibition at the Houston Museum of Natural Science - attempts to demonstrate the successes and failures of museums in addressing the questions: how do art and cultural institutions respond to current events, trends, and social issues? How do they imagine the future? I would like to imagine my future and continue my investigation through internship programs where museum specialists put the answers in practice.
Given my own rewarding experience with the study of arts in both visual and verbal forms, I hope to share happiness in seeing the Creative Process’s collaborative work as a source of inspiration for an aspiring other. Working with the Creative Process is a great opportunity to share my expertise in design, visual arts, creative writing, and museums and heritage studies. The interaction with notable writers, artists, and creative thinkers offers me a reflective experience from which I could learn to connect and contextualize creative materials for different audiences. I look forward to advancing my skill set of an architect and an art historian with an interdisciplinary team where I could be a part of enacting its dynamic future.
