For the title for this show, I enlisting the help of Baton Rouge artist, Jonathan ‘Rat de Bois Farouche’ Mayers to translate from English to Louisiana Creole, or Kouri-Vini, the phrase, “Don’t let it pass or go Bayou!” Jonathan also translated other phrases used in my work as well as the installation.
Before my residency at the Joan Mitchell Center in New Orleans, I was curious if there was a history of Filipinos in Louisiana. During my research I discovered stories of Filipinos who had escaped from Spanish ships, and accounts by early settlers in the 1830s of St. Malo, a Filipino fishing village on Lake Borgne. A second settlement, Manila Village existed in Bayou Barataria and had a flourishing shrimp drying operation. With this information I decided to revisit Filipino culture in my work and reexamine my practice as a whole.
On the drive to New Orleans, I initiated, The Monkey Trail, which started in Sacramento and ended at the Manila Village marker in Jean Lafitte. It involved paint can lids with an image of a stylized monkey, referencing a racial slur directed towards Filipino immigrants in the 1920s and 30s. Along the way, I left paint can lids at various locations. The trail or journey became a metaphor for migration (MYgration) or immigration (I'm MYgration), and the paint can lids a metaphor for individuals, isolated and stranded in their surroundings seeking refuge or a home.
The Manilamen Vest is the result of my research on Manila Village. This piece is a gang-like vest made from a suit jacket. Through the vest and a short performance at Bayou Barataria, I attempted to connect my father’s generation, Manongs, and the Manilamen of Manila Village. The vest is an intersection of sorts for two groups of Filipino immigrant men, and a way for me to honor and link my cultural history here in America.
The Joan Mitchell Center sits on two acres that was once an indigo plantation in the 1790s. Embedded within the Seventh Ward, a largely African American community, the center’s location along Bayou Road is imbued with rich cultural history. My cohort was a diverse group of artists working in various disciplines, seven from outside of Louisiana, and three from New Orleans.
All of this, location, community, culture, history and communing with other artists, had a transformative affect on me and my practice. I found myself imagining and re-imagining new landscapes with characters playing out narratives grounded in my NOLA experience. A new iconography emerged with Cyprus knees, swamp creatures, Filbillys, half-fish half-men swimmers, gators and Kaiju inspired creatures, layered in humor and word play. The work in this exhibition is an amalgamation of that assimilation and what I brought with me.
Special thanks to Jen Tough, Todd Hemsley, Adam Vermeire, Jonathan Mayers, Kristin Meyers, and Heather and Coco Fortes.
Before my residency at the Joan Mitchell Center in New Orleans, I was curious if there was a history of Filipinos in Louisiana. During my research I discovered stories of Filipinos who had escaped from Spanish ships, and accounts by early settlers in the 1830s of St. Malo, a Filipino fishing village on Lake Borgne. A second settlement, Manila Village existed in Bayou Barataria and had a flourishing shrimp drying operation. With this information I decided to revisit Filipino culture in my work and reexamine my practice as a whole.
On the drive to New Orleans, I initiated, The Monkey Trail, which started in Sacramento and ended at the Manila Village marker in Jean Lafitte. It involved paint can lids with an image of a stylized monkey, referencing a racial slur directed towards Filipino immigrants in the 1920s and 30s. Along the way, I left paint can lids at various locations. The trail or journey became a metaphor for migration (MYgration) or immigration (I'm MYgration), and the paint can lids a metaphor for individuals, isolated and stranded in their surroundings seeking refuge or a home.
The Manilamen Vest is the result of my research on Manila Village. This piece is a gang-like vest made from a suit jacket. Through the vest and a short performance at Bayou Barataria, I attempted to connect my father’s generation, Manongs, and the Manilamen of Manila Village. The vest is an intersection of sorts for two groups of Filipino immigrant men, and a way for me to honor and link my cultural history here in America.
The Joan Mitchell Center sits on two acres that was once an indigo plantation in the 1790s. Embedded within the Seventh Ward, a largely African American community, the center’s location along Bayou Road is imbued with rich cultural history. My cohort was a diverse group of artists working in various disciplines, seven from outside of Louisiana, and three from New Orleans.
All of this, location, community, culture, history and communing with other artists, had a transformative affect on me and my practice. I found myself imagining and re-imagining new landscapes with characters playing out narratives grounded in my NOLA experience. A new iconography emerged with Cyprus knees, swamp creatures, Filbillys, half-fish half-men swimmers, gators and Kaiju inspired creatures, layered in humor and word play. The work in this exhibition is an amalgamation of that assimilation and what I brought with me.
Special thanks to Jen Tough, Todd Hemsley, Adam Vermeire, Jonathan Mayers, Kristin Meyers, and Heather and Coco Fortes.