Xiaoxiao Xu about a way of looking through photography
Duality is one of the main themes addressed by Xiaoxiao Xu in her projects when she works with the concepts of what is seen and the unseen, the story told and what is left behind beyond the personal encounters with the subjects. Another layer adding to the duality deals with traditions and cultures preserved, traveling generations and becoming adapted to the new world while maintaining elements from the past. The ability to depict the nuances through personal experiences and understanding of both Western and Eastern cultures adds a deeper meaning to Xiaoxiao’s work, inviting a viewer to interpret the narrative through their own eyes.
Xiaoxiao Xu is a Netherlands-based artist and photographer born in Qingtian, China. Having lived in China and being immersed in the culture until relocation to The Netherlands at the age of 14 allows Xiaoxiao to present a unique perspective, blending her insider knowledge with an outsider's point of view. This angle, alongside curiosity and visible cultural differences, leads to a more complex interpretation and observation of the surroundings. Xiaoxaio explains, “This experience of moving to a foreign country during my teenage years has made me more of an observer than a participant in my new surroundings, a characteristic that significantly influenced my way of looking through photography.”
In our interview, we are speaking about Xu's photobooks: The Way to the Golden Mountain (2014), Watering my Horse by a Spring at the Foot of the Long Wall (2020), Shooting the Tiger (2022), and the upcoming book, This Looks Better irl, currently being crowdfunded at Voordekunst. We explore the complexity of dual identity and the effect it holds on viewing reality through the lens of Western and Eastern experiences. We speak about Xiaoxiao’s trip across the Great Wall, meeting people who have lived close to the wall for generations while preserving their culture. In her quest to discover details about people and their traditions, Xiaoxiao worked on the project Shooting the Tiger, making images of the festival of spring, Shèhuo, in the Northwest of China and her new book, This Looks Better irl, in which she researches the world of cosplayers.
Words by Nastasia Khmelnitski
‘This experience of moving to a foreign country during my teenage years has made me more of an observer than a participant in my new surroundings, a characteristic that significantly influenced my way of looking through photography.’
My Narrative
Hi Xiaoxiao, it’s very nice to have this opportunity to discuss your work with you. I’d like to start with your biography, being born in Qingtian in Zhejiang province, China, you decided to leave the country and relocate to the Netherlands at quite a young age. What were the main reasons for this move, and what was the influence of having a Chinese community in the Netherlands on you growing up?
Thank you for having me.
I will start with a bit of background information about Qingtian, the place where I was born. Due to its location, Qingtian has played a significant role in the history of Chinese immigration. The region is mountainous for large-scale agriculture and is surrounded by water; factors that have increased the local desire to emigrate compared to other parts of the country. Especially from the 1960s to the 1990s, residents of the villages around Qingtian migrated massively to the West in search of a better life.
My mother was one of these villagers. She aspired to establish a new life in the Netherlands. Back then, there was an idealistic belief that it was easy to find work and wealth in the West. This dream, this yearning, is referred to as 'The Golden Mountain.' Seven years after my mother settled in the Netherlands, my family sent me on a plane to follow in her footsteps when I was fourteen years old.
Upon arriving, the language barrier and my introverted personality led to a period of isolation; it took a few years for me to integrate. This experience of moving to a foreign country during my teenage years has made me more of an observer than a participant in my new surroundings, a characteristic that significantly influenced my way of looking through photography.
‘The garments, fluttering softly in the wind, symbolize for me the uprooted position of the migrants abroad, floating between their new life and the home they left behind.’
The Way to the Golden Mountain
The Way to the Golden Mountain, a project and a photo book published by Sturm & Drang, depicts your way back to rediscover your hometown and the place that had a wave of immigration to the Netherlands. Let’s speak about the duality and the tension between the familiar and the displaced. Your relation to the people and places you discover during this trip is depicted from what is seen and the unseen — the emotions and the personal background. In what way have you worked on the project combining the perspectives of the insider and an outsider with experience growing up in Europe? What was familiar, and what was new to you?
I would like to answer this question using two photographs. The first photo shows two pieces of clothing hanging on a rack in the public park of the emigration village Gangtou. This park, the largest in the area, was established through donations from migrants as a sign of their commitment to the development of their home village. The garments, fluttering softly in the wind, symbolize for me the uprooted position of the migrants abroad, floating between their new life and the home they left behind. This photo accurately depicts my approach to the project: intuitive and focused, capturing feelings of alienation and reunion.
The second photo features a carefully arranged series of improvised aquariums made from recycled plastic bottles in which goldfish swim. These goldfish, belonging to my aunt, were placed in empty soda bottles that she then beautifully decorated. This creative mentality, the pursuit of beauty with limited resources, was very familiar to me. It illustrates the flexibility and resourcefulness found in everyday life. However, the sight of goldfish in plastic bottles also carries a sense of absurdity, particularly when compared to animal treatment in the West. Due to my dual identity, I could view the scene with a more neutral perspective.
‘The most memorable encounters were with the ‘wall protectors,’ who have dedicated their lives to the protection of the wall.’
Watering My Horse
With the project and a photo book, Watering My Horse, published by The Eriskay Connection, you explore the themes of presence and absence. The story is about travel and the discovery of what is and what is lost. Meeting people and their culture and traditions that are still present in the various areas along the Great Wall of China led to creating a project around the history of The Great Wall and the meaning behind its symbolism today. What have you discovered in the process of working on the project? What was the most memorable encounter with the people who live in the villages close to The Great Wall?
For this project, I trace the Great Wall from start to end, photographing the lives of people along the wall. I have encountered different languages, foods, and ethnicities along the way, discovered vibrant cultural practices, and learned that the Great Wall serves not only as a cultural boundary or a symbol of power; it’s where people have been living and preserving traditions for centuries. It is intertwined with the lives of the people below it — villagers taking shelter in abandoned watchtowers and shepherds using the Wall as a stall for their livestock, transforming it into a daily and functional object. It’s also a place of contradiction, old and new, decline and hope. Maria–Caterina Bellinetti, who wrote the essay for my book, articulates this beautifully: “A tree has grown on the ruins of the Great Wall. The skeletal, blossoming branches look like fingers stretched towards the sky. An old man carries pink flowers among dried wood. The melting snow resembles a galloping horse; a horse's coat is as white as snow. A man sleeps on a plastic sheet; the hills are dotted with empty watchtowers. A child stands next to a fallen tree; hope and death are bound together in an endless dance.”
The most memorable encounters were with the ‘wall protectors,’ who have dedicated their lives to the protection of the wall: they inspect the wall weekly to prevent damage; they preserve excavated artifacts to maintain tradition, and they research the history of the wall's construction for a better understanding. They are usually descendants of the soldiers who built and guarded the wall and feel a deep responsibility for its preservation.
‘I gradually realized that the festival is transforming or even partially fading, just like the once strong bond between people and the land has weakened.’
Shooting the Tiger
In Shooting the Tiger, a book published by the Eriskay Connection, you portray the traditional festival of spring, Shèhuo, in the Northwest of China. The viewer learns about the symbolisms connected to Chinese culture. The dichotomy is between the real person and the character they portray as connected to the traditions of the area. Another tension might be between the feeling of familiarity and displacement watching the ceremonies unfold and people transform into mysterious characters. What was the preparation and research you did before onboarding on this journey? When working on the project, what became the main theme to create the narrative?
My way of working has evolved over the years. For Watering the Horse and my most recent project in the Indian Himalayas, I indeed did a bunch of research work, but for Shooting the Tiger, I mainly followed my intuition. Upon seeing images of the event online, I was immediately captivated by the alienated atmosphere of the festival, the vibrant colors, and the ancient costumes set against a vast white landscape. Driven by my curiosity about the culture, I decided to attend the festival and experience it firsthand. While working on the project, I gradually realized that the festival is transforming or even partially fading, just like the once strong bond between people and the land has weakened. I want to show people this expressive and colorful celebration, remind us of the rituals and the connection, and highlight the timeless and universal aspects of traditions that provide comfort and familiarity, even as they evolve or when we find ourselves displaced from our origins. And I deeply cherish the symbolism of the entire celebration very much: there is always hope, and there is always a new beginning.
The Themes
Working on projects, traveling to China, and viewing the country from the very different perspective of the person who lived there but also grew up in another place, what has helped you develop your language and aesthetics and portray the chosen topics in the way that connected to pure curiosity, research, and getting reacquainted with the culture and people?
To create a good photo, I mainly rely on my intuition, which is a very abstract concept. It might be influenced by the books I've read, the films and music I've enjoyed, as well as my life experiences. It's also tied to my character and the feeling of being trapped for almost all of my teenage and adolescent years until I eventually found a way to communicate my ideas through photography. I have a strong desire to break out of the cage and explore the wider world. When I do succeed, I experience a true sense of freedom while out in the wild, making connections and learning about people and places through my camera.
Upcoming Projects
What theme or narrative are you researching, and what can we expect from you in the upcoming months?
I am currently working on a new project about a place in the far north of India called Ladakh, nestled between the Karakoram and Himalayan ranges and bordered by China and Pakistan. Ladakh is a region rich in Tibetan Buddhist tradition and diverse ethnic cultures, facing modern challenges, and the lives of its people are being profoundly reshaped. My project captures this era of transformation, illustrating how tradition and the imposing Himalayan landscape are changing due to human activity and climate change.
Additionally, I am working on a new book with The Eriskay Connection about the cosplay conventions, which explores the passion, creativity, and sense of belonging within the world of cosplayers, currently being crowdfunded at Voordekunst.
