REVIEW: Strange You Never Knew

When first entering the exhibition, the words that immediately greet the viewer are “Please Take Off Your Shoes.” The title of this series reflects a custom common to many Asian households— a sign of respect for the host and a gesture of humility. 

Strange You Never Knew marks artist and photographer Jarod Lew’s first solo exhibition, centering on the interplay between personal identity, generational stories, and a larger community. The idea of ‘knowing’ is not only Lew’s exploration of his identity but also asks the viewers to question the extent they know about others. With the title Please Take Off Your Shoes, Lew establishes the concept of exploring customs and stories rooted in his Asian heritage that is often obscured, inviting us into these invisible spaces of his community. The intimacy of these interior spaces and connections between humans serves as a contrast to the external perceptions of Asian American communities that tend to be surface-level and binary. 

Exhibition panel featuring the Please Take Off Your Shoes placard

The exhibition consists of four sections— Please Take Off Your Shoes, In Between You and Your Shadow, Mimicry, and The New Challengers Strike Backeach examining the contrast between reality and perception. At times, Lew’s works are laced with humor and amusement. Try playing The New Challengers Strike Back where the goal is to beat up a car. Take a close look at the family-style slideshow in the living room and you’ll find that many of the photographs are of Lew’s face edited onto old images of white, suburban families. In one image, he’s a young boy at a birthday party, and in another, a doting wife. But there’s also a disturbing reality to other photos shown in the sequence: untouched photographs of midwestern communities hosting “Chinese Block Parties” featuring costume-like versions of traditional Asian attire. However, with these photographs in conversation, there’s a third element: genuineness. The other untouched photographs are the ones featuring the lived experiences of Asian Americans. 

Genuineness pervades through the collections of works. At times, there’s a solemn beauty in the ways Lew captures his subjects, particularly his mother. This series was inspired by Lew discovering his mother had been engaged to Vincent Chin, a Chinese-American man who was beaten to death by two white automotive workers. Despite his mother’s wishes to be obscured in the photographs, Lew’s photographs preserve the stories that might have otherwise been lost in history. Vincent Chin is a name that reverberates in the Asian American narrative, but what of the other entangled stories? 

Photo Credits: Jarod Lew

I had the privilege of hearing both Lew and curator, Jennifer Friess, speak about the work, and hearing the stories behind the pieces accentuated my experience. I loved hearing about how shooting one photograph with his dad, the one where he sits wearing his post-officer uniform, made his dad cry. I remember Lew saying how his dad felt like he was wearing his old self again, this period of strength in his life. And how when Lew was departing for Yale, his father suddenly told him his grandfather was an enthusiastic photographer and showed him a box of his photographs, many of which appear in the exhibit. 

This collection of photographs explores a necessary conversation about layers– the profound nuances within Asian American culture, the stories that trail between generations, and the histories that trickle into the present. Strange You Never Knew presents a powerful juxtaposition, true to the complex nature of identities emerging from different backgrounds. It is simultaneously humorous and playful, while also deeply reflective and personal. Most of all, it is welcoming in nature. While the perspectives in the exhibition may be something familiar or unfamiliar, the space is asking you to be open— to (metaphorically) take off your shoes. What awaits behind the door is an obscured hand, holding up a sign of love. 

Photo Credits: Jarod Lew

Strange You Never Knew: A Solo Exhibition by Jarod Lew  is on view at UMMA through June 15th. 

REVIEW: La Raza Art and Media Collective: 1975–Today

Fifty years after its founding, the University of Michigan Museum of Art celebrates the legacy of La Raza Art and Media Collective, a trailblazing group of Chicano, Hispanic and Latino/a creatives. Founded in the 1970s, the group organized community gatherings and produced creative work, including a multimedia journal. Now, these works from the collective’s history are brought into conversation with the present, in La Raza Art and Media Collective: 1975–Today.

At the center of the exhibition is a collection of material from the early issues of RAM Collective’s journal, including original copies of artwork that have been preserved by the Bentley Historical Library. This collaboration brings a different kind of experience than viewers may be expecting at an art museum. There are gems of poetry, artwork and essay writing among the spread of pages, providing a fascinating glimpse into the lives of Latino/a students and artists from fifty years ago, but finding them requires a willingness to spend some time reading through small print.

However, visitors searching for dramatic visual impact will be more than satisfied with the gallery space itself. One wall is papered with silkscreen prints by U-M Stamps School of Art & Design professor and alum Nicole Marroquin (MFA ‘08), using more imagery drawn from the Bentley archives. Another is painted bright green and features a mural painted by George Vargas, a founding member of RAM Collective, along with Nicole Marroquin and Mina Marroquin-Crow. And the gallery’s two walls of floor-to-ceiling windows are adorned with ribbons of transparent film created by Michelle Inez Hinojosa (Stamps MFA ‘23) that give a colorful tint to the light flowing into the gallery and the view onto State Street. Together, they bring a bold and bright atmosphere to the exhibition, letting the vibrant history and present of the university’s Latino/a community spill out of the journal pages and onto the walls of the museum itself.

A view of the gallery windows, featuring the work “The Ribbons, the Future” by Michelle Inez Hinojosa.

Of all the contemporary artworks created to accompany and transform the historical work of RAM Collective, a highlight is the collection of zines produced by Stamps School of Art & Design students, working in Nicole Marroquin’s Social Spaces class. These zines engage with the history of RAM Collective and the artists and communities involved, drawing on the Bentley’s archives to continue the mission of the collective in the present.

One zine, created by a group of students (Megan Fan, PingYu Hsu, Julian Kane, Jaden King and Violetta Wang), presents a selection of images from George Vargas’s sketchbook during his time as a graduate art student at U-M. The students write, “As art students ourselves, we became inspired by this work.” Another, produced by Liana Kaiser, presents a poignant collection of poems from a Detroit organization called La Casa de Unidad Cultural Arts and Media Center. Visitors are encouraged to take a zine with them when they leave, “so that La Raza Art and Media Collective carries on.”

Zines and other materials created by Stamps students in Nicole Marroquin’s Social Spaces class. The backdrop is silkscreened wallpaper created by Nicole Marroquin.

The exhibition’s true strength is how it embodies the spirit of collaboration, coalition-building and solidarity that the original RAM Collective was founded on. The array of contributions from original members of the collective, more recent Stamps alumni and faculty, and current students brings multiple generations together to continue La Raza’s mission.

La Raza Art and Media Collective: 1975–Today is on view at UMMA through July 20th. All exhibition signage is presented in both English and Spanish.

REVIEW: Arbor Glyph

The Student-led Exhibition Committee is a newly-formed group of Stamps students, faculty and staff who aim to provide more opportunities for undergraduates to exhibit their work. The SEC’s inaugural exhibition “L’Assemblage” was displayed last winter in the Stamps building, and the committee has now brought student work to the walls of the Stamps Gallery with “Arbor Glyph.”

Tucked away in a small side room off the main display space of the Stamps Gallery, “Arbor Glyph” is an understated but cozy exhibition. An inviting semicircle of wooden chairs filled with soft pillows faces the single, large-scale artwork. A carpet softens the tile floor, and black fabric covers the walls. Calm instrumental music, mixed with birdsong, plays softly. The environment feels calm and secluded, a comfortable hiding place.

The artwork itself is a combination of painting and projection, spread across three tall paper panels that form a single image of a chaotic, colorful forest. The painting was created collaboratively by about a dozen Stamps students who attended a painting event in October. Their only direction was the prompt “depict a tree.” This spontaneous method of creation is apparent in the wide range of styles that share space on the canvas, from bold streaks of ink to carefully placed brushstrokes.

As I approached the work to take a closer look, I realized that where my shadow fell onto the wall and blocked the projection, the colors disappeared. I had been aware that there was a projected element to the artwork, but it was so well integrated that I had failed to notice that the painting was composed with only black ink. The colors of the piece are an illusion produced by the projector overlay, bringing vibrancy to the shades of gray.

Arbor Glyph, detail. Shadows cast onto the artwork reveal the shades of gray beneath the colorful projection.

The longer I looked at the piece, the more small details I noticed. Apples among a tree’s scribbled branches. Birds in the sky. Animals lying beneath the trees, sheltered by their branches. Mushrooms growing in the undergrowth. These details added subtlety and life to the scene. I also noticed that the colors of the projection seemed to shift over time, particularly the sky, which cycled through blues, greens and purples.

The artwork and the space encourage this kind of contemplation—I found the chairs comfortable and the music very calming. The small room felt like a peaceful refuge, and I was content to spend a long time with the piece, watching the colors slowly shift.

I enjoyed the exhibition itself, but to me, the most valuable aspect of “Arbor Glyph” is the mission it represents. While there are existing opportunities for Stamps students to exhibit their artwork in the Stamps Gallery, such as the Undergraduate Juried Exhibition, those opportunities tend to be very selective and set a high bar for entry. There is value in recognizing exceptional work, but there is also value in creating space for work that might not otherwise have the chance to be publicly displayed. The Student-led Exhibition Committee is creating exhibition opportunities that are more accessible for students, and for that I applaud them.

“Arbor Glyph” is on display at the Stamps Gallery until November 16th.

REVIEW: Hey, We Need to Talk!

Through its Vote 2024 suite of programs, the U-M Museum of Art has asked the campus community, “How can we strengthen our democracy?” Visiting artist Philippa Pham Hughes answers this question with the title of her exhibition: “Hey, We Need to Talk!”

Hughes, the current Visiting Artist For Art & Civic Engagement at UMMA, is a social practice artist who works to create a flourishing society through human conversation and connection. With the presidential election approaching and politics an increasingly divisive subject, it’s harder than ever to communicate with those who disagree with us. With “Hey, We Need to Talk!” Hughes encourages us to sit down, break bread, and talk honestly about our fears and hopes for America.

The second-floor Crumpacker gallery has been transformed into something that is part curated art exhibit, part interactive experience, and part community gathering space. Brightly colored wallpaper (designed by artist Louise Jones, also known as Ouizi) covers the walls, bursting with beautiful illustrations of the nation’s fifty state flowers against a pastel pink background. Groups of comfortable chairs and low tables form places to sit and converse in small groups. The space feels instantly joyful and welcoming. The works of art hanging on the gallery walls are well curated, chosen from UMMA’s collection to provide discussion prompts about American life and values, but they take a back seat to the social artwork of the exhibition as a whole.

The exhibition’s Gallery Guide describes it a “social sculpture,” and invites visitors to “complete the artwork” by making social connections with others in the space. It gently encourages discussion with other viewers, and provides a series of open-ended questions about the artworks as a conversation starter. There is also a tear-away card in the back of the pamphlet, asking participants to write their answer to the question, “What does it mean to be an American?”

 

A selection of answers to the question “What does it mean to be American?” written by visitors to the exhibition. Photos by the reviewer.

I found these cards to be the most compelling part of the exhibition. Large photo albums filled with them are placed on tables around the room. I sat and flipped through one, reading the answers, which ranged from silly to profound. Some were clearly written in elementary schoolers’ handwriting, some in other languages. They expressed a wide range of sentiments, from gratitude and hope to frustration and despair.

Throughout the period of the exhibition, numerous events focused on fostering dialogue about American democracy will be held in the gallery space. This includes the weekly Common Sense Diner events, where people with differing political viewpoints share a meal and guided conversation. Participants are not asked to reach an agreement or change their views—only to ask questions, listen, and try to find care and common ground if they can.

This exhibition is unlike any other I have experienced at UMMA. It goes beyond artwork on gallery walls, fostering genuine delight, comfort and connection. If we want to build a stronger nation where everyone can flourish, maybe all we really need to do is just sit down together and talk.

“Hey, We Need to Talk!” is on display at UMMA until February 9, 2025.

REVIEW: Dr. Seuss’ The Grinch

I loved Dr. Seuss’s books growing up but never watched the movies, so to celebrate the end of the semester and the coming of Christmas, I watched The Grinch at the Michigan Theater on Sunday, December 10th. I haven’t watched any of the previous adaptations, but they seem pretty different. The first version, How the Grinch Stole Christmas!, came out in 1966 as a cartoon that’s 30 minutes long. The second version, also titled How the Grinch Stole Christmas, came out in 2000 as a live-action that’s 1 hour and 55 minutes long. The most recent one is what played at the theater: the 2018 animation that’s 1 hour and 30 minutes long, which is simply titled The Grinch.

This version is essentially the Grinch’s origin story and the audience gets to learn who the Grinch is as a person rather than a thief. The best part is we get to see his relationship with his dog Max, who is youthful and energetic in the film but old and weary in the book. Another character they redesigned was Cindy-Lou Who, the little girl who catches the Grinch in the middle of his act. In the book, she was less than two and only on a page or so; in the movie, she’s much older and one of the main characters.

The animation was fun and very fitting for a children’s Christmas movie. The palette was bright and the characters were cute, even the Grinch. I enjoyed hearing the narrator’s lines and rhymes because they added more of the book elements too. His voice surprised me though because he sounded relatively young when I was expecting an old man reminiscent of Santa, which I wish they went with instead. Because I knew the plot beforehand, it felt like a very long movie and some parts were dragging on, but I enjoyed it overall and would rewatch it again once it’s closer to Christmas.

REVIEW: Reading and Q&A with Ross Gay

On Thursday, December 9th, the poet Ross Gay gave a reading and held a Q&A session at the UMMA Stern Auditorium. I haven’t been to any poem readings before so I was surprised to find that the venue was so packed there weren’t enough seats. I’m a visual learner, so I often find myself zoning out when I’m required to listen for long periods. However, my professor told me that she fell in love with Ross Gay’s writing after she went to his reading, whereas when she read his poems they didn’t have as much of an impact. I quickly found out what she meant. When Ross Gay was reading his poems, it felt like he was giving a speech or acting out lines of a play. In other words, it felt like he was reading prose rather than poetry.

Since it’s impossible to speak line breaks, I was trying to notice how he may emphasize certain phrases more than others. I’m not sure if I’m looking too hard into things, but I did notice that at some times he’d pause a bit longer or change the inflection and volume of his voice. However, everything flowed so smoothly and sounded so natural it’s hard to point out specific spots to closely analyze unlike when reading poetry. The performative aspect was what drew my attention because he wasn’t simply reading words. He interacted a lot with the crowd through eye contact and hand gestures. It was interesting to see how his passion transfers off of the page and how he expresses himself, and it was an experience that made me realize how off I may be when interpreting an author’s work.

There were a few moments where the audience laughed which surprised me, but that could’ve been because the poem he read was about basketball, which I know nothing about. I think overall I’m always picking apart texts to find a ‘deeper’ message when it could just be something unknowingly lighthearted until read aloud. It made me realize that as a reader I often project my own emotions and experiences when interpreting other people’s work, perhaps blinding myself to the obvious. I only wish I had his poems written down in front of me to look at while I listened to further explore that concept.