Jamie Ho
Jamie Ho was born and raised in the sprawling suburbs of Fort Myers, FL. She received her BFA from the University of New Mexico and is currently pursuing her MFA in photography at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln.
Her art practice focuses on first and second-generation Chinese American experiences through the lens of her family. Ho has been featured in a variety of publications such as Booooooom, Cumulus Photo, and Fraction Magazine. She was part of 2017-18 Bridge Work: Madison, an emerging artist program, and has recently exhibited at Arts & Literature Laboratory (Madison, WI), Var West Gallery (Milwaukee, WI), and Harvester Arts (Wichita, KS).
Visit Jamie Ho’s website to see more of her work.
Interview by Dana Stirling
First, tell us a little about your background and how you first started with photography?
As a kid, I have fond memories of my dad carrying around his Yashica FX-3 during family vacations or just to take a few pictures of my brother and me in our backyard. It later became my first camera. When I was 12, I went to China to attend my grandmother’s funeral; I had all this reckless energy and uncertainty. To help with that, my dad bought me disposable camera after disposable camera. The pictures I took matched my franticness: blurry and out of focus. I dismissed my efforts as a failure on my part (rather than inexperience). In high school, I decided it would be okay if I failed and took a photography class with my dad’s Yashica, and here I am, still creating pictures.
In your project Canton Gulf, you talk about your parents immigration from China to the United States and how they are now living in a suburban “cookie cutter” neighborhood. You talk about how they are able to showcase their different background and culture in various ways. I think this notion is very interesting. As the United States is a large melting pot of cultures, how we blend together our “home country” with our current home is really fascinating. I would love to hear more about these ideas and how you feel they shine within your project.
The idea that the United States is a melting pot of different cultures is misleading. There is this pressure to assimilate, yet at the same time, I am constantly reminded because I’m not white I can never truly be American despite the fact I was born here. For my parents, the pressure is different as they spent their formative years in China, where they never were a minority and moved to a country where they are. When they’re at home, they don’t feel the need to hide who they are. That shows in the home they created for themselves and that’s what I’m exploring with Canton Gulf.
I grew up in a very traditional Chinese household surrounded by suburbia. The exterior of the house and front yard had to follow strict regulations by the Homeowner’s Association. That’s where the conformity ends. With Canton Gulf, I investigate how my parents used their heritage to make a generic suburban shell into a home. My father built a garden almost resembling a jungle in the backyard whereas neighbors built pools or had swingsets. The ubiquitous Floridian porch was transformed into an area where my parents cook and perform daily offerings to Kitchen God, a deity that watches over hearth and household. I’m using photography to document my parents’ legacy and how they make a stamp within the conformity of suburbia.
You mention, in the same project, Canton Gulf, the idea that this is their home but not really yours. That you visit them but when you were younger you wanted to escape this town you write “Florida is where my parents’ home resides. Not mine.” This statement is something that I personally can relate to as a child to immigrant in another country myself. The feeling of misplacement in a specific location physically or mentally can be challenging. Can you tell us a little more about these feelings and more importantly how do they come across in your photographic work?
Growing up in a traditional Chinese household in America means I straddled the line between two cultures and I didn’t feel at home with either. Florida for me represents a really difficult time where I was trying to figure out myself within the confines of both trying to live up to my parents’ expectations and desire to remain loyal to our Chinese heritage despite U.S. societal pressures to assimilate. There was so little representation in American media that I could find for myself and often there were no peers in my classes that looked like me. This made me struggle with both my identity and worth, and I pushed back against my Chinese heritage. I have little love for a place that holds those memories, yet southwest Florida is still home for my parents. I understand and respect that. Canton Gulf is a result of recognizing the importance of my family’s cultural traditions and the desire to reconnect with both my parents and my heritage.
Seems that many of your images and project revolve around the notion of a home, or what a home is or should be. What is home for you now? How did photography help you explore this idea?
Home can be many things, and it’s not always dictated by place. Honestly, I still struggle with defining what home is to me as I have not lived in a “permanent home” since leaving my childhood home, and I have not stayed in one city for long. Part of my interest in the notion of home is trying to understand how that relates to the limbo I feel by exploring how my family constructs their definition of home through photography. My parents’ house has always felt like my parents’ home. I have discovered the reason for this is because of the layers of memories, and daily rituals and traditions that are evident within the house, whether it’s the Kitchen God altar located in the porch, the Chinese watercolor painting I made as a 6-year-old hung in the master bathroom, or the wear and tear of years of living in one place.
Your images in this project have a tendency to focus on moments that are sometimes mundane, “simple” and underwhelming in real life, but your camera and the way you interpret the world around you and this home elevate these moments to be beautifully crafted poems of this daily life. Tell more about your experience taking these photos and the dynamic it created with your family. What makes a moment special or important enough for you to capture it?
I use my camera as a way to be more present with my parents. I make photographs to connect and as a way to understand them more. I look for the right time to depict my parents and their home that both elevates and adds meaning to the objects and moments I find important. It can be as simple as photographing my dad’s garden during golden hour or as weighted as spending time with my mom as she performs Lunar New Year rituals such as burning joss as offerings to the Kitchen God.
In your work Goat Town you are looking into the changes that are happening to the Guangzhou’s landscape of china using your own personal family story and experience to talk about this larger story. Could you elaborate on what this change is and how it affects the landscape?
I have not been back to Guangzhou since 2012 when I created the work so I cannot speak to how the city is now. Based on the trajectory of growth I was watching, I don’t know if I’ll recognize Guangzhou the next time I visit. At the time I was working on Goat Town, I was with my family in Guangzhou in 2011 and 2012 and observed the city start to gentrify from community-centric apartment blocks to unapproachable high rises. At that point, Guangzhou was at the cusp of dramatically altering its skyline through erecting generic simulacrums of traditional Chinese architecture and destroying older neighborhoods. It felt like the Guangzhou I knew as a child was disappearing.
I think for many in this country, me included, the duality and juxtaposition of cultures can be empowering but it could also be confusing and challenging. Do you mind sharing your experience with these dualities and cultures? How do they play a role in your work?
Like I mentioned before, being pressured to both follow my parents’ principles and ideals at home and fit into American societal norms at school has been difficult. Because my childhood was spent trying and failing to live up to the idea of being “American,” I am fearful that my knowledge and understanding of my Chinese heritage will disappear when my parents die, as they are the main tie to my Chinese heritage. I use photography to explore the fear of losing cultural traditions and heritage through the lens of my family. I am making work about my parents’ legacy in hopes to understand both facets of my identity more.
Are you working on anything new you should like to give a little sneak peek into?
I have new work, but I can’t share the images yet! I have been collaborating with artist, Jenie Gao, in an oral history project commissioned by Bayview Foundation, an affordable housing non-profit that provides supportive services to a diverse community. I’ve been creating portraits of their residents and their families that will live in both the residents’ homes and the Community Center.
What has been your biggest struggle so far as a photographer? Was there a way you overcome it?
The biggest struggle for me was trying to balance a full-time non-art job with making work at a steady pace. It wasn’t impossible, but I was finding slow progress. To make Canton Gulf, I had to wait until I allotted vacation time from my work, and it was a frustratingly slow process. I’m looking forward to having space and time dedicated to making work now that I’m in my first year of grad school at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln.
Who are some of the artists, young or old, established or in the beginning of their career that have inspired or guided you and your photographic journey?
Carrie Mae Weems, Hiroshi Sugimoto, Larry Sultan, Latoya Ruby Frazier, and more recently, Leonard Suryajaya and Pao Houa Her.
What tools (literal or metaphorical) are the most important to you in your toolbox?
Connections - building community with other artists. Growth, as an artist and as a person, does not happen in isolation and without support. Patience and persistence are equally important. Creating a single image can take time and many attempts. The wait for the right moment and atmosphere requires patience.
What advice would you have for other photographers who are reading this interview?
It’s okay to just be present. Sometimes work doesn’t click no matter how hard you work at it. It’s okay to fail and let go or come back to your idea at a later point.