Art for the artist's sake

Mu Performing Arts, as many other arts organizations, is built on the idea that performance is about more than simply entertainment. At some point in our lives, most of us have been affected on an emotional level by a play, a film, a piece of music, or any of the myriad of other arts that accentuate our world. Sitting in an audience, we feel a connection with the characters and the story that draws us into a different world, or even gives us a greater understanding of our own.

But what about the actors on the stage? The playwrights? The other creative artists involved with bringing a production to life?

Throughout Mu’s 18-year history, we’ve heard a common expression of gratefulness from our Asian American artists. Mu gives them a place to call home, a place where they can display their talents in a supportive environment, a place where they can tell their own stories without the added pressure of navigating the ever-present issue of race in casting. On our stage, they are not just creating an experience for the audience, but living it for themselves.

The power of performance is the inspiration behind Mu’s Stories Program, a workshop series for youth that explores personal experiences through creative expression. Over the past year, Mu teaching artists have worked with a variety of schools and Asian American youth organizations to help students develop plays based on events, observations, and their own memories. With the Stories Program, students are given the same opportunity that Mu actors get when they take the stage: the opportunity to share who they are, and communicate their thoughts and feelings on their own terms. More than simply telling a story to an audience, they are empowering themselves.

Recently, Mu’s Artistic Director Rick Shiomi traveled to California to work with students from the Korean Resource Center in Los Angeles. At the end of the weekend-long workshop, students performed their work and held a discussion about their experience in the Stories Program. You can view a video of their performance below. If you don’t have 47 minutes to watch the entire video, try 14:25 for a representative example.

MU Workshop-h264 from Korean Resource Center on Vimeo.

Humor. . . in Hmonglish

The adage "Laughter is the best medicine" may be overused, but that fact doesn't make it any less true.

When it comes to Tou Ger Xiong, though, perhaps a better phrase would be "Laughter is the best teacher."

Xiong's history shares many of the same harrowing details as other Hmong immigrants in Minnesota. His family fled Laos to Thailand, where they spent several years in a refugee camp before making their way to St. Paul. On the surface, there's not too much anyone could say about the experience that would inspire humor.

Yet Xiong has found a way to reach new audiences with his story. Often cited as "the first Hmong comedian," he has traveled around the country performing comedy and rap routines--often bilingually in both Hmong and English--based on his life and memories and the Hmong American experience. Have a look at some of his work:



"What Is Hmong?" rap, from hmongnetwork.com:

(Rap begins at 1:25)

What makes a film "Asian"?

A few weeks ago, the Minnesota Film Arts invited me to advise the group on their plans to launch the first ever Minneapolis-St. Paul Asian International Film Festival in November. Or was it the Minneapolis-St. Paul Asian American Film Festival? I’m still confused.

MFA received a grant to develop a festival that would serve underserved communities. But “underserved communities” is a hazy definition, as is what constitutes the Asian (American) community. Some people might think I’m splitting hairs or even indulging in excessive political correctness. But to understand the difference is to understand the dilemma that has long flummoxed people of Asian descent in the United States.

I suspect organizers originally planned on devoting the festival to films created in China, Japan, South Korea, and Vietnam. There’s nothing wrong with that--Asia produces quality films as any other continent.

However, I’m not sure these films reflect the grant’s original purpose of serving underserved communities. The films might be high quality, but as a second generation American of Chinese descent, I don’t feel any special emotional affinity for films produced in China. I like a good flick like anyone else, but so do white, black, and Hispanic people.

Of course, films from Asia might resonate with more recent immigrant communities, like the Hmong or Laotians. I suspect, though, an entirely Asian film festival will attract people who normally enjoy foreign films with subtitles--mainly white people.

But what’s really missing in this country are films that reflect the Asian American experience-- the model minority stereotypes, the desexualization of Asian American men and the hypersexualization of Asian American women, the perpetual perception that people of Asian descent are foreigners even though many, like myself, have lived their entire lives in the United States and consider themselves primarily Americans.

I couldn’t think of any less served underserved community.

Two immediate films come to mind and they couldn’t be more different. In 2003, Better Luck Tomorrow, directed by Justin Lin and produced by MTV Films, nearly won the Grand Jury Prize at the famed Sundance Film Festival. The film centers around a group of high achieving Asian American high school students, who, perhaps bored with their high GPAs, AP classes, and Ivy League college applications, embark on a sociopathic crime spree that ultimately results in murder.

What’s striking about this film is that main characters both embody and defy the model minority stereotypes. No, not just defy, they literally and figuratively stab, beat, and shoot those stereotypes into smithereens. Pretty dark stuff.

I recall reading a story about the film’s screening when an audience member criticized Lin for not portraying Asian Americans in a more “positive” light. To which famed Chicago Sun Times movie critic Roger Ebert retorted something like: “I doubt you would have suggested the same thing to Francis Ford Coppola for his portrayal Italian Americans in The Godfather.”

Double standards are a real bitch.

The next film true to the Asian American experience is (don’t laugh…or then again, please do) is the stoner comedy Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle. No, I’m not saying Asian Americans particularly like weed and mini burgers (although I’m sure many do). But beyond the silly premise and the rock out cameo by Neil Patrick Harris, Harold and Kumar, like the kids from Better Luck Tomorrow, try to overcome the stereotypes that have made them an ideal target for every snarky remark about Asian Americans.

Kumar, an Indian American, does his best to defy his dad who desperately wants his son to become (you guessed it) a doctor. Kumar spends most of his time thinking of creative ways to sabotage his med school interviews. With his parted hair and always available lap top, Harold, a Korean American, is a dutiful, meek cubicle drone who does the work of his lazy, white colleagues. Oh sure, Harold is pissed off--he just can’t summon the courage to do anything about it. He’s similarly powerless in his affection for the hot girl who lives in his apartment building, for Harold possesses the sexual prowess of an pecan nut.

Unlike the kids in Better Luck Tomorrow, Harold and Kumar don’t murder anyone. But they do manage to ride a cheetah, steal a truck, hang glide off a cliff, win the girl, and yes, go to White Castle.

Now that’s what I call a happy ending!

by Thomas Lee

New life for Asian Pacific Cultural Center

For years, the Asian Pacific Cultural Center (APCC) has been a dream: a plan for a building devoted to Asian culture in the Twin Cities, a single place where community organizations, advocacy groups, publications, and performing arts companies like Mu Performing Arts would come together under one roof. For a city with a growing Asian American population and little to unify the diverse cultures that comprise it, the APCC would provide a vital home for sharing, collaborating, and promoting Asian culture in Minnesota.

Now, thanks to Mayor Chris Coleman's announcement this week to revitalize downtown St. Paul, that dream is taking a big step closer to reality. After what seems to have been a history of two steps forward, one step back for the APCC, the new plan to reinitiate old development projects could possibly remove the last major hurdle toward the creation of the center. An initial outline of the plan includes renovation of the historic Hamm's Brewery for the purpose of housing the Asian Pacific Cultural Center.

There is no word yet on the timeframe for completing the project, but there is no doubt that everyone in the Asian American community should be excited about the possibilities that lie ahead.

Photo by jcbehm, via flickr. www.reviler.org

Your Wednesday wake-up call

Sure, we may be behind on this one--eight months behind, to be exact, if the date on Prince Gomolvilas's blog on the subject is any indication. Eight months may well be the equivalent of a million years in our technologically advanced world, but in our defense, had MUsings existed when this video first went viral, you'd undoubtedly have seen it here first. We still remember watching this one in the Mu Performing Arts office and finding it impossible not to completely fall in love with this adorable boy strumming a ukulele and singing along.

As we await the day when this multi-talented little charmer becomes the next Asian rock star, we'll brighten your mid-week with this blast from the past. Some things, after all, never get old.

Seeing through color in casting

In the current issue of Stage Directions magazine, Iris Dorbian writes about the ever-present issue of colorblind and other “non-traditional” casting in theater. While we live in a 21st century world where an increasingly multicultural society is a reality, many theater companies still struggle with reflecting that reality on stage. . . and with a variety of consequences. On one end of the spectrum, theaters that only rarely cast non-white actors may be labeled as “gimmicky,” trying to capitalize on a pretense of equal opportunity. On the other, those that regularly feature multi-racial casts may be expected to explain themselves and their specific casting decisions to a public that in many ways still views African Americans, Latinos, Asians, etc on stage as some kind of ulterior political or moral statement, even if the theaters are simply choosing the best performer for the role.

Somewhere in this discussion of cast and color lurks an even more frustrating issue: white actors in roles designed for actors of other races. Mickey Rooney in Breakfast at Tiffany’s may have been bad enough in 1961, but it is a practice that still occurs today.

Just this past March, Mu Performing Arts and Children’s Theatre Company (CTC) held a discussion about the issue of “yellow face” in theater in response to CTC’s production of Mulan Jr, which had cast white actors as Chinese characters. While CTC explained the trouble in hiring Asian actors to fill those roles—it was an unprecedented and prolific few months of Asian American theater in the Twin Cities, with three shows requiring heavily Asian casts going on more-or-less all at once—the topic does stir up a variety of questions:

• Is the apparent “shortage” of Asian American actors a result of a theater culture that does not encourage their talent, or perhaps a higher expectation of the level of talent an Asian American actor must possess in order to be deemed worthy for a role?


• In presenting a culturally specific story, what level of responsibility does the theater have in maintaining cultural relevance and sensitivity?


• Is it more “acceptable” for Asian characters to be portrayed by white actors in the theater world than, for example, an African American or Latino character would be? Why?


• What role does the audience play in the way that Asians are portrayed on stage?

At Mu, we pride ourselves in creating opportunities for Asian American actors that they may not have elsewhere. But we also look forward to a day when we have to compete with theaters built in the traditional Western canon for their talents, when we have to lose an actor to a rival company because he or she was chosen to play Hamlet.

Answers. . . anyone?

I have two girls who love singing, acting and performing. My oldest is 10 and my little one, 7 years old. They were recently in a production of The King and I, which ran at the Bloomington Civic Theater, and just loved the experience. After the show’s run the girls excitingly asked me what and when their next project might be. Being a dedicated mother I began surfing the net for any opportunity I could find for Asian children. My search led me to what seemed to be a million pages. It was difficult to distinguish between the sites that were reputable and those that were questionable but I eventually found my way to trusted casting web pages such as backstage.com and actorsaccess.com.

Throughout this process I learned how complex the industry is, but more importantly I learned that there are very few opportunities for Asians, especially Asian children. I was greatly discouraged and wondered how it could be that a group as diverse as this and with so many amazing stories to tell could have so little representation in the entertainment industry. This endeavor has left me with many more questions than I started out with.

Can people not relate to Asian stories and images?

Is the Asian experience not associated with the American experience?

Are Asians not perceived as being as talented?

Is the Asian “look” not sellable?

When a call for audition states, “diversity is very important to us,” is that just window dressing?

We are so much more than Kung Fu and chop suey. America’s Best Dance Crew (ABDC) has shown us that Asians can dance (and darn well). Ang Lee has proven that Asians can direct Oscar worthy movies that are not martial arts related. Comedians such as Bobby Lee and Aziz Ansari have demonstrated that Asians are hilarious, and the list goes on and on. This is why I am so dumbfounded to learn that commercials rarely look to cast Asians to sell goods, movies roles are seldom written for Asians, or stories about the Asian experience (outside of war films) are rarely developed for mainstream America’s viewing pleasure.

What do you do when you have smart, sweet, respectful and articulate children who want to do something but can’t because their image is not mainstream enough? How do you tell your Asian American children they are not “American” enough to play an American? So many more questions than answers. . .

by Kaohly Her

Hope. . . even in North Korea

For Laura Ling, a 12 year sentence to hard labor in North Korea last year was retroactively wiped away by a phone call in 1992.

Then President Bill Clinton placed a call to Kim Jong-Il, offering condolences on behalf of the United States to the North Korean leader over the death of his father, Kim Il Sung, whose army fought American forces to a stalemate in the Korean War over four decades ago.

That an American president would personally phone a Cold War foe and iron fisted dictator is surprising enough. That Clinton was the first international leader to do so, even before China, North Korea’s strongest ally, is downright unbelievable.

Good thing for Ling and fellow journalist Euna Lee that Kim Jong-Il never forgot the gesture. When “Dear Leader” agreed to pardon Ling and Lee last year over charges they trespassed into North Korean and conspired to topple the government, Kim Jong-Il had only one request: that he personally meet Clinton when authorities released the two women.

Ling, sister of National Geographic host Lisa Ling, and Lee recounted these stories in Los Angeles last week during the annual national convention of the Asian American Journalists Association.

Ling’s keynote address was striking not just for its deft prose and heartfelt sincerity but that the speech lacked any self pity or animosity one would expect from a journalist beaten, imprisoned and ruthlessly interrogated by an oppressive regime.

Last year, Ling and Lee traveled to China to work on a story about North Korean women defectors for Current TV, a cable channel founded by former vice president Al Gore. Led by a guide, the two journalists briefly crossed the border into North Korea before turning back.

It was too late. North Korean border guards chased the women into China and literally dragged the two kicking and screaming into the Hermit Kingdom. A North Korean judge deliberated for five minutes before sentencing the journalists to 12 years of hard labor, two years for trespassing and a decade for plotting to overthrow the government.

Despite rumors that the guide had lured the Americans into a trap, Ling refused to blame anyone but herself.

“It was my decision alone” to cross into North Korea, she said.

Ling also said she preferred to focus on the positive parts of experience.

Uh…what positive parts?

After the court sentenced her, Ling said she curled into a little ball in the corner of her room and sobbed uncontrollably. Suddenly, one of her female guards, who spewed propaganda at Ling when she first arrived at the prison, did the unexpected: the guard consoled Ling.

“Don’t worry Laura,” the guard said. “Never lose hope.”

Ling’s story should remind us that even the most seemingly evil people, whether the guard or dictator, can sometimes show a little humanity- if the occasion calls for it.

Not often. But sometimes.

by Thomas Lee

APIAs Represent at National Poetry Slam

If you live in the Twin Cities, it's a great time to be an Asian American spoken word poet. St. Paul is hosting the National Poetry Slam (NPS) from August 3 - 7, 2010 (that's right, it's already started); in 2011 the Twin Cities will host the National Asian Pacific Islander American (APIA) Spoken Word and Poetry Summit; and, as part of the National Poetry Slam, the APIA Summit will sponsor an open mic this Saturday, August 7 from 1:00 - 2:30 at the Lowry Lab Theater in our fair capital city. According to Bao Phi, one of the open mic's organizers, API poets from Minnesota, California, and Hawai'I have already thrown their names in the hat to read their work. It promises to be a fantastic afternoon of great poetry.

Chances are good that you already know what spoken word is. Maybe you've watched HBO's "Def Poetry Jam" or have seen any number of spoken word open mics in your own neighborhood. Well, Asian Americans have been an integral part of this movement since the art form's inception. Phi gives a succinct and deeply personal summary of a decade of Asian American spoken word in his blog at the Star Tribune.

While I am a poet, I've always felt more comfortable working within the realm of page poetry than spoken word. But, as an audience member, I welcome the power of a good poem spoken on stage to an eager, supportive crowd. Listening to an articulate thought expressed with well-constructed, surprising, and engaging language in a group setting is akin to the Sunday masses I eschewed long ago. It's like church without the guilt. It's like church that makes you wanna get up and do something. And for Asian Americans, a spoken word event builds much-needed community.

Shortly after I first moved to the Twin Cities, I attended an evening of performances protesting the first incarnation of Miss Saigon, which was coming through town at that time. I remember sitting at Intermedia Arts, while a young Asian American woman stood onstage and performed a piece about her frustration with the stereotypes she faced. It was the first time I'd ever seen an Asian American female, like myself, stand in public and express anger about anything. But, it was more than just anger. By taking the stage, she had taken back her own identity as a complex, politically-aware individual. That event effectively changed my life. It set me on the path to becoming an artist myself and guided me to learning about Asian American history and politics. The lessons I've learned from that journey continue to inform my work, even as it has evolved.

Events like the API Spoken Word and Poetry Summit and the open mic this Saturday offer something for everyone, beyond poets or poetry fans. They offer a chance to be in community with other Asian Americans, to listen, laugh, shout out, and yes, maybe even cry. They give our community much-needed space to be and celebrate who we are. In this space, ideas are exchanged, tested, affirmed or challenged, and the seeds for future movements are planted. I hope I will see you there.

by Katie Leo

Viva La Korean Food!

According to the New York Times, Korean food is finally poised to go mainstream within the American palette, after too many years languishing in the shadow of other Asian fare.

It all started with the now-famous Kogi truck in Los Angeles, a venture that started in November 2008. This roving truck sold a tortilla-wrapped galbi concoction--comprised of barbecued short ribs, cilantro, onion, lettuce, and spicy chili sauce--with its exact location announced ahead of time via social networking. The deliciousness of this "Korean taco," combined with the novelty of discovering where the truck would be on any given day, made Kogi instantly popular with L.A. foodies. In fact, Kogi BBQ is so hot that its founder, Roy Choi, was recently named one of Food and Wine magazine's "Best New Chefs" of 2010. And according to Angry Asian Man, thanks to Kogi's popularity, food trucks are experiencing a rebirth of cool in Los Angeles, with "every conceivable" type of cuisine now represented on wheels.

(See a slide show of Korean tacos here.)

And now Korean chefs across the country are using this moment to seize the day for their own BBQ dreams. Korean tacos are popping up in restaurants in Indianapolis, Atlanta, Oklahoma City, and Austin, Texas, just to name a few. Many of these copycat cooks tip their hats to Choi, whom Portland restauranteur Bo Kwon calls, "the alpha." Choi himself seems appreciative but wary of the trend his idea has spawned.

"If Kogi-inspired trucks change how Americans eat, I'll be a pig in slop," he declared at a meeting of the Culinary Institute of America. "But if their food isn't any good, I'll be Kurt Cobain."

From this Korean-adopted gourmand's perspective, any trend that can win over more Americans to the joys of Korean food is a good one. But, why have foods from so many other ethnicities spread across this country, while Korean has not? Take my new hometown of Rochester, MN as an example. Here's a city of roughly 185,000 people. Sure, it's tucked inside farm country, but it does house the Mayo Clinic, which gives the downtown area a surprisingly international feel. In Rochester one will find eateries boasting Japanese, Vietnamese, Indian, Somali, Mexican, Greek and, of course, Chinese cuisine (of varying degrees of authenticity, to be sure). But, nary a Korean joint in sight. Now, while I love sushi, I find it fascinating that so many Americans are willing to eat raw fish but yet aren't familiar with the hearty stews, casseroles, stir fries, and beef barbecues of my birth country.

Do you think that one day every small town off an American highway will have a Korean place, just like most have a Chinese joint? What's your favorite Korean dish? And, most importantly, do you think Rochester will ever get a Korean restaurant? If you want to start one, come on down. You can sleep on our futon.

by Katie Leo
Photo by Arnold Inuyaki, licensed under Creative Commons

What's in a name? Apparently, way too much.

“Do you know what’s the most popular last name in the world?” my dad would ask me for the umpteenth time as a child. “Lee!”

I was never sure if that was actually true. But it sounds plausible. We all know Lee is popular in Asian culture. There’s also plenty of famous black (Spike) and white (Robert E., Tommy, Stan) people with the surname.

But judging by recent events, you would have thought Lee was as common as Schwarzenegger.
I was a reporter at the Star Tribune for nearly six years before leaving last December for a new job. In my place, the newspaper hired Wendy Lee, a cheerful Californian gal who happens to be a good friend of mine.

Aside from our last names, Chinese descent and mutual affection for karaoke, we are completely different people. She’s short. I’m tallish. She’s West Coast. I’m East. She’s not afraid to drive a car. Me? Well, that’s another story.

Yet people can’t help but fixate on our last name. Are we married? Are we related? Are we in fact the same person as we sometimes suspected of Michael and Janet Jackson?

The answer to all of these questions is a resounding no although I figure we’re related in the same way everyone is related to Australopithecus africanus.

The day the paper announced her hire must have been a slow news day.

“No one had anything better to say,” a friend told me. “So we just focused on your last name.”
Really? What’s so unusual about it? If Wendy Smith just replaced Thomas Smith at the Star Tribune, would anybody had noticed the similarity?

It didn’t help that a headline in a local news blog read: “Strib completes Lee for Lee swap.” I suddenly felt like a baseball card.

A few months ago, reporters gathered in a conference room for a tense staff meeting. After a few heated exchanges, the room grew quiet. My friend, never wanting to waste a perfectly good awkward moment, raised his hand.

“I want to ask a question that I think everyone here wants to ask,” he deadpanned. “Is Tom Lee related to Wendy Lee?”

Aside from a few muffled giggles, no one really understood the joke, including the editor running the meeting.

“Um…I don’t think so,” the editor dutifully answered. “I do know that they know each other quite well.”

After a while, people grew bored with the last name thing. So they started to focus on our looks.
“You know, Wendy Lee is much cuter than you Tom,” I heard more than once.

Now, I completely agree that Wendy is much cuter than me. In fact, I would feel downright uncomfortable if people said I was much cuter than Wendy. (I guess I just don’t equate myself with “cute” in any sense of the word.)

But why would the question even come up? Do we always like to compare the attractiveness of present and previous employees? If the paper announced Wendy Smith is replacing Tom Smith, do people automatically think: I wonder if she’s cuter than him?

Perhaps I should change my last name to Schwarzenegger. That way, there would be no need to wonder whether Arnold or myself would win the title.

It’s pretty obvious, no?

by Thomas Lee