Asia Art Archive in America was pleased to host a screening and conversation between artist, Angela Su and AAAinA’s Manager of Programs and Collections, Claire Kim. This event served as an additional touch point for Su’s exhibition at the Wallach Art Gallery at Columbia University, which opened on February 2. The exhibition, titled Angela Su: Melencolia, is the first solo exhibition of the artist’s work in the Western Hemisphere and showcases installations, speculative docufiction videos, as well as drawings and hair embroideries of composite cyborgian bodies. 

Our program screened three short films (two of which will not be available in the aforementioned exhibition) followed by a conversation about the major themes in Su’s practice including notions of social control, perceptions of reality, and reimaginings of historical narratives. 

Content Warning: The video works shared during this screening include depictions of violence and sexual assault. 

Angela Su holds degrees in biochemistry from the University of Toronto and visual arts from the Ontario College of Art and Design. She presented Arise, Hong Kong in Venice in the Hong Kong pavilion at the 2022 Venice Biennale and Lauren O—The Greatest Levitator in the Polyhedric Cosmos of Time at M+ in 2023. Su’s commissioned work, Contagious Cities: Far Away, Too Close, was exhibited at Tai Kwun, Hong Kong (2019). Group exhibitions include Levyhalli (Suomenlinna, Helsinki, 2021); Museo Universitario Arte Contemporáneo (Mexico City, 2020); The Drawing Center (New York City, 2020); Ullens Center for Contemporary Art (Beijing, 2020); Frieze London (London, 2019); Whitechapel Gallery (London, 2019); Academy of Fine Arts Vienna (Vienna, 2017); The 2nd CAFAM Biennale (Beijing, 2014); and the 17th Biennale of Sydney (Sydney, 2010). She published an artist novel Berty (2013), and science fiction anthology Dark Fluid (2017), where she uses science fiction as a tool for social justice.

Claire Kim: Angela, thank you for joining us tonight. I was particularly excited to be in contact with you for this program.  Because I was first introduced to your work through your physical wall-based pieces, I was intrigued to learn about your extensive video art practice. It is such a privilege to be able to share space with you tonight and to view not just an individual video work, but a trajectory. The works that we shared today, Methods of Art (2015), The Afterlife of Rosy Leavers (2017), and This Is Not A Game (2021), span six years, the first one from 2015, the second in 2017, and the last film from two years ago, 2021. The first and third are not on view at your current solo exhibition at the Wallach Art Gallery, but the second one, The Afterlives of Rosy Weavers, is. So, I thought it was really special that you chose these particular films that obviously have a clear theme, as well as recurring characters. To start off, could you please share a bit about where you were in your artistic practice when you developed these films?

Angela Su: Before I answer your question, I would like to say thank you to Jane for having me here. It’s such a pleasure and honor to give a talk at AAAinA. I’ve been working at AAA in Hong Kong for the longest time, and I remember you [Jane] coming to me in 2011, while I was cataloging in the library, and suggesting that I should give a talk at AAA in A, if I ever came to New York. I never had the chance to do so until now, so this feels like a dream come true. 

To answer your question Claire, I never know where I am in my practice. In fact, I am lost all the time. I always have a feeling that I am just starting out, because there’s so much to learn. An artist friend of mine says that even if you’re a mid-career artist in Hong Kong, you will always be considered as an emerging artist internationally. So, I really don’t know where I was in my practice, but I can surely talk about my state of mind when I was making these films.

Methods of Art (2015) is the result of the titular video interview project that I participated in. It got me thinking about my own practice. I became very aware of my weaknesses and I still am very aware of them. I was also asked to produce a work as part of the Methods of Art interview project. So I hired a cameraman to shoot a kidnap scene with me and a man in a panda mask. It is a very fast-paced short video of this Panda Man dragging me to a dilapidated shed where I am forced to confess and apologize for all the uninteresting art that I had made. Somehow, the concept of this work came very naturally; I had the script and storyboard ready in a matter of a few hours. To date, this is probably my favorite work, because it’s so simple and direct. I was very clear about what the video was going to look like from the start. I still really cherish that moment of clarity. 

The Afterlife of Rosy Leavers was created in 2017. The video introduces the viewer to Rosy’s life story: early fascination with spirals, experiences with hallucinatory psychedelics, joining Socialist Patients’ Collective (SPK), and ultimately uploading her consciousness to cyberspace and thereby living her life as an animated character. But prior to 2017, my work was very different.

In the years between 2014 and 2017, my work changed a lot. To give you an idea of what I was doing before 2014, I was also making drawings and embroideries, and a bit of video works. But at the time, the themes of my work were always about the body, about merging science and art, and about pain and pleasure, etc. After 2014, I started asking myself a lot of questions, one of them being — what is the use of resistance when most social movements are doomed to fail? I also began to delve into science fiction or speculative fiction, more specifically, the use of SF as a tool for social justice. As a result, I curated a sci fi anthology project called Dark Fluid in which I invited Hong Kong writers, activists, a comic artist and an architect to envision the future of Hong Kong through the lens of science fiction. This project also included workshops where contributors talked about what science fiction meant to them, and how they felt about Hong Kong and the social environment at the time. And I guess, in some way, Dark Fluid prompted me to make the Rosy Leavers video.

In 2017, I was also working full time at AAA. Creatively speaking, that was the most productive period for me. Working at AAA offered me subliminal encouragement and peer support. To this day, I would still have discussions about art with my ex-colleagues. 

So that was 2017, and now, let’s fast forward to 2021. In the intervening years, a lot happened in Hong Kong, including the COVID lockdowns, and it just so happened that I was researching about digital activism, and how protests and video games interact, influence and shape each other. As an example, during BLM in United States, a lot of protesters staged protests on online gaming platforms, such as Animal Crossing. Street protests in some cities borrowed strategies from video games. I find this interaction very interesting.

This led me to making the video work This is Not a Game (2021). The video speculates on the history and future of gaming through interweaving film, personal narratives, and fabulation. It imagines a future where a new genre of video games becomes a ‘training ground’ for rebels, blurring the boundary between real-life and virtual reality.

I also want to point out one thing. If you can read both Cantonese and English, you will notice that the Chinese subtitles are different from the English. Actually, the subtitles are written in Cantonese. Spoken Cantonese is very different from the “proper” Chinese that we learn in school. Many Cantonese words that we use in everyday conversation are not considered proper words. It is not a formal language, but I think for this particular video work, it is important to insist on using Cantonese. It feels more intimate. 

CK: When I was first watching these videos, I didn’t know that the timelines were so different for each particular piece and that years had gone by in between each production. I was hoping that you could speak a bit about the recurring characters that appear in all three of the pieces, the importance of recurrence in your practice, and maybe even the use of a kind of doubling that happens in terms of imagery.

AS: I think you are referring to Panda Man in both Methods of Art (2015) and The Afterlife of Rosy Leavers (2017). When I made Methods of Art, there was only Panda Man; the character of Rosy didn’t exist. And when I conceptualized Rosy Leavers in 2017, I wanted her to be violated in the virtual world where she could come back to life again and again, no matter how many attacks and deaths she had been through. But what is the best way to do that? So I thought about bringing back Panda Man; he was the perfect candidate. And since this is an animation, it could be as wild and crazy as I wanted. 

I like the idea of self-referencing. As an example, Star Trek and all its spin-offs create a self-contained universe. Only trekkies would be able to recognize all the references in the spin-offs. Similarly, I like to create a secret language between myself and audiences who are familiar with my work. It’s a knowing wink to them when they recognize the reference to a character from another work. In hindsight, all my video works are somehow linked in different ways and maybe unconsciously, I want to create my own self-contained universe.

Rosy also appears in This is not a game (2021). I see a lot of similarities between this film and The Afterlife of Rosy Leavers; they’re both about the virtual world, mental illness and hallucination. That’s why I felt that Rosy should be the narrator of the film, and I had her signing off at the end of the film. I don’t know if any of you recognize the reference in the last scene in This is Not a Game where Rosy signs off. It is a nod to the movie, Alien, in which Ellen Ripley signs off the ship’s log as the last survivor of her crew. I’m a fan of horror movies.

CK: On the topic of Rosy, obviously, from the beginning, there are these characters that have your likeness. Rosy Leavers acts as your avatar. I was hoping that you can share a bit about the tool of autobiography, of creating a character in your work that can be traced back to your own likeness.

AS: The concept behind The Afterlife of Rosy Leavers is all about hallucination, doppelganger, avatar and alter ego. I purposely styled Rosy after my signature look – my typical bob haircut, big glasses and my Doc Martens boots, mainly because I wanted to recreate the kidnap scene from Methods of Art. But then, for other films, including the ones that are on view at Wallach Gallery, the characters are not meant to be my avatars nor alter egos. I think most people have the impression that the characters in these films are in fact Angela Su, because I perform in the film. I think it’s a very logical interpretation, because most of my films start with a documentary-styled narrative with found footage, and end with a performance by me. That’s why most people think that I’m the character in the film. But actually, I choose to perform in the films because these works present ways for me to find answers to the questions that I have in my mind. I believe that this personal quest requires me to perform in my own film. On top of that, some of the performances are a bit risky – they are not as extreme as cutting myself open – but there is some kind of risk involved. That’s another reason why I want to perform these roles.

When I exhibited Rosy at Blindspot Gallery (in Hong Kong), I included a shorter video which is like a television talk show, and I cosplay as Rosy Leavers, wearing a bright red wig and an enormous pair of red glasses. In this case, the two identities, myself and Rosy Leavers, reference each other like a mise en abyme. The interviewer in the video would say to Angela/Rosy something like, “It seems that you are romanticizing mental illness. Don’t you think you are ignoring the distressing experiences of people who are struggling with mental health problem?” or “How do we even begin to discuss performance art that takes place in the virtual world? What about the authentic experience of the artist?” As the interviewer presses her to respond, she dodges the questions with some absurd gestures. I think it’s an interesting companion piece to the main Rosy video and it complicates the relation between Rosy Leavers and Angela Su.

CK: And when was that piece from?

AS: 2017, the same year as The Afterlife of Rosy Leavers. The animated Rosy Leavers was in one room, and in the next room, the short Rosy video on an old tube tv.

CK: My final question about how these films relate to or affect your practice today. Are the themes of the films still pertinent for you? 

AS: I think of the works produced between 2014 and 2022 as an ongoing exploration of certain methods or themes. I see a lot of similarities between the films, one informing the other and there is a clear trajectory. These works are reflections of how I feel about Hong Kong, especially the films that are chosen for the Wallach Gallery exhibition. However, my feeling towards the city is only one of the many layers of meanings in my films. I would say that themes such as mental disorder, the body, biopolitics and the future will always be pertinent for me.

CK: We’ll open up to some questions. 

Audience: I have perhaps a hard question. I want to know about your choice to have Rosy violated at the end. What were you trying to communicate with that violation?

AS: I don’t know. I like to produce works that are a bit uncomfortable to look at. It’s something instinctive. I don’t think what is presented in the film is more violent than what you see in Hollywood films or in real life. 

In 2013, I did a performance that was commissioned for Art Basel Hong Kong. The curator invited different artists in Hong Kong to take part in a parade called Paper Rain. The route was from a park to the Convention Center where Art Basel was held. Some artists created sculptures that could be carried in the parade, some played music, and I did a performance. I got three actors to slap me, pour paint over me, and I got one to perform a rape scene with me, he also put out a cigarette on my arm. I was dressed very elegantly in the beginning, and by the end, all my clothes were torn off. Everything was performed live in front of an audience. What is interesting is that during the rape scene, journalists, photographers and the audience became part of the performance as they came very close to us to take photos of the simulated rape. I like the fact that live performances as such can often bring about unexpected reaction from the audience. But again, anything that takes place in the safety zone of a gallery, a museum or an art fair, no matter how violent it is, is not real. It is staged and often ritualistic. There is a limit to the harm done to the artist’s body. What I am trying to say is that I don’t want to replicate violence for its own sake, and I certainly hope that my work doesn’t come across as aestheticizing violence. Rather, I want to find a way to exorcise the paranoia that I have of living in a violent world. 

Audience: There is a whole history of women’s performance art that fits into this vein. If you think of Yoko One’s Cut Piece, or Marina Abramovic’s work, where they allowed people to do things to their body. And I think that this strain of women’s performance art, maybe for different reasons, were attempting to represent actual experiences.

AS: Yes, absolutely. I really admire the works of these artists, especially during my formative years.

Audience: So where do you think you’re going next?

AS: Cut off my head. [Laughter] No, really, I don’t perform in order to produce something sensationalistic, I don’t do it for the shock value, but I will always push myself to do something that is challenging and meaningful. My colleague Anthony (Yung) actually has a great point about performance art. He once said that he doesn’t see where sensationalistic performance is going. Is it a competition about whose work is the most violent and bloody? At one point in Chinese contemporary art, the performances got really extreme. Whatever I do is nothing compared to those performances. My performances are really kindergarten-level compared to many of those extreme performances.

Audience: You have worked in embroidery and performance and film. Is there another medium that attracts you that you think you might develop at some later stage?

AS: I don’t know. At this moment in time, I’m just trying to take a break because I’ve been working very hard since Venice. Maybe I’ll learn to do animation? I don’t know. Drawings and embroideries are really time consuming and straining on my body. I should learn to delegate the fabrication of my work to someone else and to accept it as part of my practice. 

Audience: You were talking about sci-fi and speculative fiction, and how they are orientated toward the future. But there is also a historical element in your work. Can you talk about how the past figures in your work? 

AS: I would say that historical element is quite essential in my work. Without the past, there is no future. I think history repeats itself or perhaps it’s more accurate to say that politics, greed and the struggles for power have never changed over time. In order to understand what is happening today and to anticipate the future, I would often go back to history books. For example, if I want to understand the relation between machine learning and society, I will have to trace the history of data collection back to the 1800s. It’s very sad to see that technology evolves over time, but human nature remains the same. 

I also like to use archival footages. There’s a kind of timeless and otherworldly quality about these footages; for me, they don’t look dated at all even though they are from the past. Whether they are from old documentary films or avant-garde films, I can’t help but be amazed with all the extraordinary things that people did in the old days — the way they lived and the way they made films. There is a video (Mesure et Démesure) in the Wallach exhibition that shows photos from the Cold War period when gas masks were distributed to civilians — women, men, school children and babies, to wear on the street, which looked really freaky and futuristic. So maybe that’s also why I’m attracted to historical materials. The late English theorist Mark Fisher stated that the future is cancelled because of the incessant nostalgic recycling of styles from the past. What he said hopefully doesn’t apply to my work, but my attraction towards the ‘exotic’ sounds and images from the past is perhaps symptomatic of the concerns that he had of this day and age. I am not sure if I should be fascinated by this conflation of the past, present and future, or if I should be sad about our inability to imagine the future.

Audience: I’m curious to know how you came up with the character of Rosy Leavers, and specifically, how you picked the name. I find it particularly interesting, since you’re talking about how a lot of that work relates to the situation in Hong Kong in the last decade or so, and then how Rosy is like a kind of counterpart, or alter ego, but I find it interesting that Rosy Leavers as a name doesn’t, at least for me, connote a specifically Hong Kong identity. I wondered, maybe off the top of my head, if Leavers maybe has something to do with a departing quality, like leaving the earthly realm for cyberspace or something.

AS: The name [Rosy Leavers] actually comes from Rose Sélavy, which is the alter ego of Marcel Duchamp. Your interpretation of the name is very interesting. From now on, I can talk about this work using your interpretation, thank you. [Laughter] Indeed, a lot of people have commented that my work is very Western-centric, and that my characters are non-Chinese or non-Hong Kong. To be honest, I never liked Hong Kong when I was a kid and I was fortunate enough to be able to study abroad. That might explain why the things that I am drawn to, the books that I read, and the films that I watch are mostly non-Hong Kong related, and hence, why my work is so Western-centric. But it doesn’t mean that my immediately surroundings in Hong Kong don’t have any effect on me and my practice, especially after I came back to the city in the early 2000s and started working at AAA. People whom I met during my years with AAA really changed how I saw and understood the city.

CK: Well, thank you very much Angela. We are really very grateful to you for sharing these films and your thoughts with us tonight. 

Transcribed by Minh Nguyen, edited by Angela Su and AAAinA staff.

Asia Art Archive in America has received support from the New York City Department of Cultural Affairs in partnership with the City Council, the New York State Council on the Arts, Ruth Foundation, and Vilcek Foundation in addition to other generous donors.