Haunted by art

Jade suit for corpse (male).
Image from A Visual Sourcebook of Chinese Civilization
by Patricia Buckley Ebrey

When I was four years old, my parents owned a book of Asian art they displayed on a bookshelf in our Toronto apartment. I thumbed through the pages of this gorgeous volume and gasped when I saw the image of a Chinese jade burial suit. Who was this man lying down so stiffly? I was struck by the figure's facelessness and stillness. It frightened me. I dreaded walking near the bookshelf and shivered any time I thought about the jade burial suit.

Now I'm a 40-something mom and I'm finding myself once again haunted by art. 

I'm curating a contemporary art exhibition in San Francisco this spring: Hungry Ghost: Yearning for Fulfillment. Even though I conceived the exhibition premise and instinctively knew that it was a powerful concept for artists to embrace, I was still taken aback by the incredible assortment of literary and visual works the call for submissions yielded.

All of this came about when I answered a call for proposals for the Asian American Women Artists Association's Emerging Curators Program in December. I was thrilled when I was selected and it has been an incredibly enriching experience developing this exhibition.

In reviewing the submitted artwork, a number of the pieces affected me profoundly. I asked artists to address their demons. And they did. They responded with powerful essays, illustrations, mixed media installations, paintings, photography, poetry and sculpture. Some of the pieces stuck with me and stayed on my mind for days, weeks.

This is what we expect from art, right? It is meant to stir us, to challenge and stimulate us. Some of the works submitted for this exhibition covered intensely emotional topics: abandonment, incest, suicide. Yet, somehow, these artists found a way to transform their pain into amazing art that resonates and reflects the human condition. It is inspiring and awesome.

Call for Entries: Asian American women artists visual and literary arts exhibition

Spread the word!
Submission Deadline: Tuesday, March 6, 2012, 11:59 PM PST

Note: This is a revised announcement, current as of Tuesday, February 28, 2012

CALL FOR ENTRIES Hungry Ghost Yearning for Fulfillment A Visual and Literary Art Exhibition, at Thoreau Center for Sustainability Curated by Lisa Chiu Submission Deadline: Tuesday, March 6, 2012 11:59 PM Notification of acceptance will be on or before March 14, 2012 Proposals, including size and sketches, will be considered. Please send samples of your current work. Exhibition Premise: The Hungry Ghost, a concept based in Buddhist and Taoist beliefs, is a lost soul that roams burdened by unmet needs. Driven by insatiable greed and intense desires, the Hungry Ghost wanders, searches and feeds. In Chinese folk religion, families prepare food offerings for deceased relatives to keep ancestral hungry ghosts at bay.Hungry Ghost: Yearning for Fulfillment asks you to interpret and illuminate this powerful, culturally rich metaphor. How do Asian American women artists express deep emotional and physical desires? How do we relate to the idea of isolation and alienation? How do we reconcile our Asian backgrounds and American surroundings? How do food and family shape our identity? How do we deal with consumption and compulsion? How do we crave acceptance and fulfillment? What feeds us? Eligibility: The exhibition is open to Asian American women literary and visual artists 18 years and older. Visual art Original 2D and 3D works of any medium completed since January 2010 will be reviewed. No greater than 50 pounds, no larger than 7' x7' x 2' wide. Installation work Freestanding, no fragile installation, no wider than 3 feet. 7' x 7' x 2' deep Literary art Original poetry, fiction or nonfiction completed since January 2010 will also be reviewed. 2 pages or less in length, 12-point type, double-spaced. Submit as a word doc. Work will be selected by curator, Lisa Chiu and AAWAA's Curatorial Team.    Venue: Thoreau Center of Sustainability, Building #1014, Tourney Avenue, San Francisco, CA 94129 Submission Deadline: Tuesday, March 6, 2012, 11:59 PM Proposals, including size and sketches, will be considered. Please send samples of your current work. Delivery of artwork: Sunday, April 15, 2012, 11 AM - 5 PM Dates of exhibition: Monday, April 23 – Saturday, June 9, 2012 Opening reception: Thursday, April 26, 2012, 5-8:30 PM at Thoreau Center of Sustainability   Entry details: Applications will be accepted until Tuesday, March 6, 2012 11:59 PM PST. Incomplete or late applications will not be considered. Information submitted may be used for publicity purposes. Entries must be submitted online via EntryThingy  An $8 entry fee must be submitted via PayPal Here Insurance: Provided by Thoreau Center for Sustainability while artwork is onsite.     Drop-off and pick-up: Artist is responsible for transit of accepted works to and from Thoreau Center. No storage is available. Sales: 10% commission of sales goes to AAWAA’s Emerging Curator Program. About the Curator: Lisa Chiu is a Taiwanese American writer and food fanatic. Her essays appear in Cheers to Muses: Contemporary Works by Asian American Women (2007) and Who's Your Mama?: The Unsung Voices of Women and Mothers (2009). Coming from a background in literature, journalism and marketing, she is fascinated with myth, metaphor and the craft of storytelling. Her interest in curation stems from a desire to cultivate creative opportunities that foster cultural awareness. She conceived Hungry Ghost as a forum to amplify Asian American women’s voices and showcase their art. She writes about family, food, culture and community on her blog, Rants, Ravings and Ruminations. Emerging Curators Program:  AAWAA’s Emerging Curators Program provides a platform for aspiring curators residing in San Francisco Bay to develop their vision and encourage curatorial expertise in the Asian American community. Presenting Organizations: Asian American Women Artists Association (AAWAA) is a nonprofit arts organization dedicated to ensuring the visibility and documentation of Asian American women in the arts. Through exhibitions, publications, and educational programs, we offer thought-provoking perspectives that challenge societal assumptions and promote dialogue. www.aawaa.net Thoreau Center For Sustainability: Operated by Tides, Thoreau Center for Sustainability is a green nonprofit center dedicated to social, cultural and environmental sustainability, Thoreau Centers are named after the American writer and naturalist Henry David Thoreau. As American’s first notable naturalist, Thoreau believed in the importance of democracy and advocated living in harmony with nature.  http://www.thoreau.org/ Send questions to cynthia@aawaa.net (415) 722- 4296

Asian American Women Artists Association Emerging Curator

I am thrilled and honored that the Asian American Women Artists Association selected me for their Emerging Curators Program! I will be working with the AAWAA team to curate a juried visual and literary arts exhibition at the Thoreau Center for Sustainability in San Francisco April 26 to June 9.

The Call for Entries will be out soon!

Here's the AAWAA announcement.

On democracy and oyster omelettes

A few weeks ago, my family ate at an Asian restaurant in Cupertino and chowed down on several Taiwanese comfort food dishes: bean thread noodles, oyster omelettes (also known as oyster pancakes) and steamed dumplings. The next day, I met up with a few fellow second-generation Taiwanese Americans in San Francisco and we reflected on what it was like to grow up as an Asian American in the Midwest and West Coast. 

There is a powerful connection between food and memory. Every time I eat Taiwanese food, I feel compelled to call my mom. So, feeling nostalgic, I called my parents in Ohio and we talked about my weekend of Taiwanese culture and the recent presidential election in Taiwan. My parents had been rooting for Democratic Progressive Party candidate Tsai Ing-wen, Taiwan's first female presidential candidate. Our relatives in Taiwan, including my spunky 96-year-old grandmother had voted, while my parents followed election news on satellite TV. "We lost. It was close," my dad said. Both my parents cried. 

It was ironic that our conversation took place the weekend before Martin Luther King Day. I remember the first time I heard the word "We shall overcome" was as a child growing up in Cleveland. With heavy Taiwanese accents, my parents and their friends sang the words as they marched down Euclid Avenue to Public Square. They wore matching t-shirts and hoisted homemade signs that said "Democracy on Taiwan!" I have vivid memories of our family gathered in a basement with other Taiwanese families silkscreening dozens of those t-shirts. We hosted a party where all of us rounded our dining room table in an assembly line, folding, sealing and stamping letters to Congress petitioning support of Taiwan.

While I understood my parents' disappointment with the election results, I couldn't comprehend why they were so emotional about it. After all these years, there is still a language barrier between us when it comes to discussing emotions and complex topics. So I turned to a few of my Taiwanese American friends to get their perspective. 

Each of them reminded me that our parents grew up during World War II when Taiwan was under Japanese and then Chinese Kuomingtang (KMT) rule. Many of our parents, including my own, have bitter memories about the KMT, in particular. "The KMT seized property that belonged to my father's side of the family," my friend Vicki said. "My maternal grandfather was imprisoned for six months. My mother still gets emotional when she talks about it."

After growing up under martial law for many years, our parents dreamed of the day Taiwan would one day be independent. Many of them came to the United States for graduate and professional school opportunities. And then they stayed. By now, they have lived more years here than in Taiwan. They are U.S. citizens; they pay taxes, they vote, they serve jury duty (my dad raved about it!).

In the past decade, I've enjoyed a wonderful closeness to my parents, mostly because of my two kids. Where my mom and dad once were typical Tiger Parents with me, they are complete softies with the boys. My parents spent a lot of time caring for my boys when they were babies and I was at work, and as a result, I swear my older son's first word was "chocolate".

So even though I feel closer then ever to my parents, there is still a cultural gap between us. As a teenager, it frustrated me. As a middle-aged mom, it saddens me. I wish I could understand what they are going through. I can't help but wonder if my parents are giving up the dream of an independent motherland - and perhaps more than that. Is it about getting older? Is it about thinking my aging grandmother may have voted in her last presidential election? 

I wish I knew.

Lunar New Year, yoga and red bean soup

For Lunar New Year, my Taiwanese yoga teacher served homemade red bean soup after class. The sweet, thick soup, swimming with rice flour balls, tasted especially delicious after 90 minutes of sweating through crazy pretzel-like poses! It was a nourishing and comforting treat to kick off the Year of the Dragon.

Check out Tiny Urban Kitchen, one of my fave food blogs, for the recipe.

Ambivalent Tiger Mom

The other day, at 99 Ranch Market, a local Asian grocery store, I spotted a flyer promoting a bilingual preschool program.

Written in Chinese, the only words in English were "AP", "SAT" and "Harvard". Intrigued, I set up a tour and took my four-year-old son to an open house event. Everyone, including the other parents attending, spoke Mandarin almost exclusively. It didn't feel like a bilingual program - it seemed pretty unilingual. Even though I had not decided whether or not to enroll, I was added to the school's mailing list and now receive several email messages a week that say things like this:

报名新意AP中文考前综合训练班-须参加入学考试

According to my trusty Google translator, it means this:

AP Chinese exam registration innovative comprehensive Training - required to take entrance exams

On another trip to 99 Ranch Market, I picked up another flyer, this one written in English. It was from the Asian American Parent Association and promoted their Parent Information Seminar Series. One of the events, "College Experiences," featured a panel discussion of college students and recent graduates from schools including Cornell, Harvard, MIT and Stanford.

Now don't get me wrong. I understand the importance of a great education, but the emphasis on AP exams, SATs, and college admission hurdles seems excessive. For my preschooler, especially, it's a little early to think about that.

Isn't it?

Maybe I'm being naive. My family recently moved across the country, from Ohio to California, and in trying to assimilate into our new community, I'm still finding my footing. For the past six months, I've been struggling to shape my new identity as a stay-at-home parent. For the first time in many years, instead of working outside the home, I've been spending my days mainly taking care of my four-year-old and shuttling my fourth-grader around.

Now that my "job" is taking care of the kids full time, I've focused my energy on their education and found it to be pretty challenging navigating a new school with different expectations. Our new community is a quiet, safe area of Silicon Valley with excellent public schools. Our neighborhood elementary school is predominantly Asian and even though I'm Taiwanese American (born in Canada and raised in the United States), it's been quite a culture shock, as the demographics are much different to what we were used to in Cleveland.

This summer, between packing and unpacking frenzies, I read Amy Chua's controversial book The Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother. Chua was blasted with criticism for suggesting that "Chinese parenting" is superior to "Western parenting". The week the book came out last year, my email inbox just about exploded from the forwarded book reviews, media reports and commentary from friends and family. 

The Tiger Mom concept is one I know well, as the daughter of immigrant parents. My own parents were pretty mild compared to some parents I knew, but I am still very familiar with the style of parenting that celebrates academic and career achievement, where nothing short of perfection is acceptable.

Now that I'm a parent myself, I find myself conflicted about the best approach in parenting my hapa kids. There are certain things my parents emphasized that I agree with: I believe in surrounding my children with books and music, investing in educational activities and lessons, instilling a strong work ethic and expecting high achievement. I don't believe in valuing math and science above all, severely restricting social interaction with other students and denying affection to my children for efforts I find subpar.

Last year, I found myself leaning toward the Tiger Mom approach when my then third-grader participated in a school science fair. Flashbacks of visits to my dad's research lab and memories of my eighth grade science fair project ("The Effects of Color and Light on Mung Bean Growth") flooded my mind. I pushed Nico on the project and we had more than few tearful standoffs before the whole thing was over. There was so much conflict and tension in the house. I eased up for his spelling bee.

This year, I am still trying to find a balanced parenting approach when it comes to academics. Is it enough for me to be home to help with homework? Or should I enlist experienced education professionals to give my children more of a competitive edge?

At our new elementary school, when classes are dismissed, a parade of shuttle vans awaits to take students to a number of after-school programs. One I find particularly intriguing is a combination homework and martial arts program with the slogan "Our Goals are Black Belt Leadership Report Card A+ Manners & Etiquette!"

We live among many Tiger Families. Nico and I started running together this summer and on our evening runs, we often hear piano practice sessions (oh-so-familiar scales, arpeggios and sonatinas I remember from my own childhood) as we pass the houses in our neighborhood.

At the beginning of the school year, Nico asked to take band classes, but participation involved a lottery. My husband worried about the chances of being selected for the lottery. "Don't worry," I reassured my non-Asian husband. "Everyone else is already playing piano and/or violin." Sure enough, Nico got his first choice - alto saxophone. So far this year, Nico's extracurricular activities have been ones that typical Tiger Moms would not authorize: band, Boy Scouts, Little League.

Of course, it would be fantastic if my boys excelled in school, aced the SAT and went on to Harvard - but I wouldn't define success by that one narrow path.

I guess I'm an ambivalent Tiger Mom. Any others out there?

My heart, my son, races

Finishing my first 5K race this weekend was exhilarating, but more exciting than that was the fact that my nine-year-old son, also finished his first footrace that day, the JUST RUN Just Kids 3K Race, another event during the Big Sur Half Marathon weekend. 

The race was something Nico set out to do completely on his own. After seeing the race website when I was researching it on my computer, Nico asked me a few questions about the kids' race event and then seemingly moved on. On the day of the race, though, he said he wanted to participate. My husband and I tried to talk him out of it since Nico hadn't trained and we hadn't planned on him taking part in the event. He would have to run it alone. 

He said he wanted to do it. So he did.

I registered Nico for the race about an hour before it started. His event took place on the same course as mine, only his was shorter (3K instead of 5K) and started 30 minutes later. I didn't get to see him start and was worried about how nervous he might be without me or my husband there to calm his nerves. Luckily, my sister was there to keep him company.

During my 5K, I was running toward the finish line as Nico was running toward his turnaround. Seeing him across the path, both of us running, was among the most glorious parenting moments I've had. 

I had been on the lookout for him once I made the turnaround. Initially, I  thought Nico would be toward the end of the pack, but knowing that he hadn't trained for the race and didn't know how to pace himself, I kept an eye out for him as soon as I saw the first kids approaching. 

Sure enough, I soon spotted a boy with floppy, dark brown hair, wearing black and red windpants. I shouted and waved my arms. Nico was running fast and looked amazing. When I finally got his attention, he beamed at me as we ran in opposite directions. My heart nearly burst with joy.

Seeing Nico cross the finish line and get awarded his finisher's medal was a proud mom moment for me on a few levels. I was proud of him for finishing the race, of course, but I was amazed that he even started it. It took courage, determination, stamina - mentally and physically. This, from the boy I butt heads with on a daily basis. This, from the child who consistently finds a way to outsmart me on School Picture Day, declares a "We Hate Mommy" day and puts himself up for sale when he's upset with me.

This weekend's race finishes marked a milestone for us. In training for my 5K, my first-born child accompanied me - on foot, scooter or bike - nearly every step of the way for the past three months. He has been my coach. He has been my partner. He gives me a run for my money and keeps me on my toes - literally.