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"Orientalia: Sex in Asia"
A girl in every port
A search for cultural roots takes photographer Reagan Louie into Asia's sex
industry.
By Glen Helfand
Sept. 12, 2003 | Sexual tourism is a red-hot button on the scale of politically
correct travel. While ostensibly about pleasure, jetting off to partake in
exotic, erotic smorgasbords for a price is an activity that taps directly into
deeply ingrained perceptions of gender, race and uncomfortable global
intercourse between First, Second and Third World cultures. For San Francisco
Bay Area photographer Reagan Louie, this rich territory, spiked with
ideological land mines and oases of sparkling female beauty, serves as
something more complex and ambiguous.
As a second-generation Asian American, Louie has made a personal and artistic
practice of traveling East in a photographic search to reclaim his roots. In
the 1980s, he visited his father's birthplace in China, creating a visual
record of the eye-opening, vibrant color pictures that for him, and many
viewers, create a link between China and Chinese American identity. "A
psychologist might say that my search had been caused by 'cultural
marginalization,'" he wrote of that series, "In Search of a True Life" --
something that for him became an ongoing project about postcolonialism.
In the mid-1990s, during picture-gathering trips to Asia, Louie homed in on the
sex trade, which is the basis of his recently released book, "Orientalia," as
well as an exhibition at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art, "The
Photographs of Reagan Louie: Sex Work in Asia" (through December 17).
These are portraits of women in China, Japan, Thailand, Korea and Southeast
Asia that, for the artist, express a dynamic of Asian male sexuality as seen
through images of women. The pictures are crisp and colorful visions of clothed
and unclothed prostitutes -- hostesses in karaoke bars, masseuses, or employees
in betelnut kiosks or glassed-in shacks on roadsides that sell various
pleasures to go. Sometimes these women are seen with men, but more often they
look to the camera and, by extension, to the photographer from a
difficult-to-read position. As SFMoMA curator Sandra Phillips describes them in
her wall text, the pictures "offer a dispassionate examination of a topic that
is both controversial and conflicted."
This is the angle Louie takes in conversation about his art. "All my work is
about how society shapes an individual to some degree," he says. "The first
time I went to Asia in 1980, I experienced a different kind of dynamic between
men and women. Not that we [Asian men] are exactly emasculated in the U.S., but
we're somewhat neutered. Asia has very masculine societies; men have a dominant
role. I was aware of it from the beginning, but I didn't know what to do with
it."
His first-ever visit to a sex emporium in Hong Kong, where he was shooting
during the hand-over from the British in 1997, was an eye opener that
jumpstarted the project. Louie, a family man with wife, kids and a dignified
job as a professor at the San Francisco Art Institute, entered a new world that
offered very distinct examples of the gender dynamic.
"Asian men and their interactions with the sex industry are like a frat party;
there's a lot of joking around and playfulness. It's not just about sex --
there's a full sense of socialization. It's a very Asian thing, and I saw it
often in different countries. " The primary venues, he says, are karaoke
parlors with private rooms. A photograph taken in China in 2000 depicts such a
scene, with three women smoking, singing, eating and drinking with a couple of
men in what looks like a living room but may be a private karaoke chamber in
the Enjoy Business Club, a glitzy, neon-trimmed establishment photographed
elsewhere in the series. The image is far more social than salacious. In
another, perhaps taken in the same location, a man and a woman chastely croon
together while watching the video screen.
More often, the pictures are of women on their own or in an artistic encounter
with the photographer. Few of the models look directly at the camera -- their
indirect glances serve as a protective mark of professional distance. "I'm
shy," Louie admits. "The camera allowed me to enter those places and to meet
those people."
Once inside, he finds multiple layers of social evidence. He photographs a
Chinese bar girl named Ting Ting in front of star-patterned wallpaper. She
appears to be in her early 20s and is wearing a miniskirt and Snoopy T-shirt,
an element that subtly introduces a specter of Western influence (evidence that
appears frequently in the photos). It takes a moment to notice the tag that
reads "N-30" taped to her shoulder, clearly a number identifying her as
merchandise. It's not easy, however, to discern her internal state as her
expression is a blank, vague smile, and the lighting is at a professional level
that eclipses a sense of documentary spontaneity. This, like all the others, is
clearly a posed picture.
There's a similar quality to the much raunchier "Yuan Yuan, Macau," a 1999
hotel
room scene that depicts a nude woman sitting in a chair, matter-of-factly
exposing her genitalia. Her head is tilted back slightly into the
executive-gray curtains, her face made up and her eyes hidden beneath stylish
wire-rimmed sunglasses. The picture, in some ways, addresses the difficult
dichotomy between body and mind with an almost shocking brazenness.
Such images raise lots of difficult questions. Are these women being demeaned
or empowered? Are they exoticized or exploited? The ambivalence is much of what
makes these pictures interesting, as is the way that they are framed both in
the book and the exhibition.
"I didn't do anything furtively -- without the girls there would be no
pictures. I paid them for their time, which introduced a collaborative nature.
Most of the pictures are staged -- the women arranged themselves for the
camera." Clearly the notion of the artist entering an economic transaction with
a model parallels the usual parameters of the hooker/john interchange. It's a
thorny, provocative aspect of these pictures that raises the obvious question:
Did the artist partake in the services on the menu? Louie responds coyly: "Is
taking pictures a form of sex?" Was he even tempted? "Sometimes they're sexy,
they're good at their job. They know how to draw a man in.
"I'm full of contradictions and conflicts," he continues. "I implement myself,
but it's not a 'Heart of Darkness' vision. I wanted to depict survivors, not
victims."
Louie
is quick to point out, in the standard porn terms, that all the models are over
18 (at least that's what they told him), and he's wise to avoid that political
quagmire. But his project doesn't completely skirt potentially controversial
topics. There are images that depict interracial desire -- a white woman with a
Japanese man, an Asian female with a white man in Hong Kong -- as well as ones
that point to aspects of community, commodity and fetishized identities. Louie
doesn't attempt to cover all the bases. He doesn't photograph male sex workers
or offer a critique of sex tourism -- an aftereffect of global capitalism that
often illustrates incredible international inequities and the enduring specter
of racial stereotyping. He's aware of all these things, but in the end, he
admits this is more the product of an artistic vision, something that began to
fascinate the artist and consumes him. He leaves the theorizing to others,
especially other artists, whose work he has included in his own show to provide
a historical context. Pictures by Picasso, E.J. Bellocq (famous for his early
20th century portraits of New Orleans whores -- see Brooke Shields in "Pretty
Baby"), Cindy Sherman and Japanese photographer Yasumasa Morimura offer other
takes on the sex industry.
Copyright 2003, Salon.com. All rights reserved. No content may be
reproduced in whole or part without written permission. Please
contact www.salon.com for re-print and
syndication policies. Special thanks to author/journalist Glen Helfand.
Glen Helfand writes about art and culture for the San Francisco Bay Guardian
and other publications.
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