cuddle me, don't colonize me
cuddle me, don't colonize me — is an ongoing project created by boihugo, an artist and photographer based in Shanghai and London. The story is told in fragments by incorporating symbols that convey an additional layer of meaning. Landscapes, still lifes, and images of body parts, such as intertwined hands with painted nails and big diamond rings, are followed by pictures of protagonists. The questions of gender, race, and power are raised through a complicated puzzle that boihugo creates. The main statement and critique are channeled to the viewer through the title, suggesting the current state of discrimination, inequality, and violence in the stare toward the Other. With the series, we are introduced to the theme of the complexity of the definition of masculinity as connected to race and queerness. Power relations are emphasized to explain stereotypical thinking about cultural differences and the conflict those carry.
boihugo gained their M.A degree in Photography from the London College of Communication. Their work was exhibited in the UK, Norway, Switzerland, and China. We speak with boihugo about the project's initiation, the themes behind it, and their technique of using the on-camera flashlight to emphasize the topic's urgency. boihugo says, “As my research went on, more interests developed in slow violence and how dominant gay culture is cultivating it on a day-to-day level (and the solidarity and sisterhood within our own community as a potential solution).”
‘Initially, I was intrigued by how hegemonic masculinity relates to the paradoxical phenomenon of the de-sexualization and fetishization of East Asian queer. It led to the first image I took for this project.’
Hi boihugo, it’s a pleasure to present your work in WÜL! How did this project — cuddle me, don't colonize me — start? What was the first image that you took for this project?
Hi WÜL, thanks for having me!
This project was born out of my queer experiences online and offline when I first moved to London. Initially, I was intrigued by how hegemonic masculinity relates to the paradoxical phenomenon of the de-sexualization and fetishization of East Asian queer. It led to the first image I took for this project — the one with me sitting on a white man in a suit. As my research went on, more interests developed in slow violence and how dominant gay culture is cultivating it on a day-to-day level (and the solidarity and sisterhood within our own community as a potential solution).
The name of this project, cuddle me, don't colonize me, is from a poem called Creatures of The Tropical Night by Oxi Peng. I connected with this powerful yet gentle line immediately when reading it. It articulates the interchangeable gaze so vividly, and it's very close to the agency and subjectivity of the ‘other-ed’ that I’m exploring in this body of work.
‘The stark on-camera flash, the harsh shadows, and the instinctive, amateur, and imperfect look they form are something I intentionally chose to ‘queer’ photography as a highbrow art form.’
With your work and, more specifically, this project, you research the power relations in the context of freeing photography from the heterosexual male-dominant perspective. Through the exploration of the queer gaze and the shift in power dynamics, you’re suggesting for a viewer to raise questions and start noticing a variety of voices. What was important for you to make sure this project addresses the power dynamics and structures an alternative narrative?
I’ve always been sensitive to mediums, cultural construction, and the connotation behind certain visual forms, styles, and aesthetics. Photography was quite elite until the last decades when consumer-level family cameras and smartphones became popular. Whenever one goes to a photo museum or a gallery today, they’ll mostly see works with elegant lighting, sophisticated colors, and exquisite layouts taken with large to medium format cameras. They say that there is an ‘aura’ in works like that, yet it is a kind of institutionalized smoothness that I feel very far away from, probably out of my own marginality.
I find it difficult to 'unsee' the hierarchy of images that certain lighting creates. The stark on-camera flash, the harsh shadows, and the instinctive, amateur, and imperfect look they form are something I intentionally chose to ‘queer’ photography as a highbrow art form. This contrast also serves to highlight what is in the center and what is in the peripheral.
‘Being introduced to masculinities, intersectionality, and queer theories, I started to learn more about myself and the world around me in a way and speed that I had never experienced before.’
You were born in Beijing and studied for a Masters in Photography at the London College of Communication. What was an impact on your technique or the story you built in a connection to your experience of living in two different cultures: the Chinese and the British?
A friend of mine once made a joke that went like this: ”Your gender is only fluid in London.“ This actually summed up my relationship with the city pretty accurately. Although I started wearing nail polish and blush back in Beijing, the first time I REALLY got to experiment with my gender expression was in 2017 when I moved to London for school. That’s also when I started making work in a more conscious and grounded method.
Being introduced to masculinities, intersectionality, and queer theories, I started to learn more about myself and the world around me in a way and speed that I had never experienced before. And that helped a lot in making sense of myself and creating an alternative agency from not only the heteronormative but also the homo-normative patriarchal world.
‘I really enjoyed the editing process: selecting which images to include, figuring out the sequence, and playing with the coloring. The choice of black and white was actually a surprise after several experiments.’
The project was created in soft black and white tones. It takes our gaze to experience the macro and micro perspectives: from an image of trees to the objects lighted by the sun to a power relationship of your protagonists, shaping the narrative into a coherent story. Could you walk us through your technique and the choice of black and white for this story?
As I mentioned, technique-wise, I’m quite into the on-camera flashlight, even though I know it’s a big no-no for a lot of image-makers. It is often used in photojournalism because immediacy is their first priority. I appropriated this visual to emphasize the revealing urgency of the issues in the story — with most of the scenes being carefully staged to loosely connect.
I really enjoyed the editing process: selecting which images to include, figuring out the sequence, and playing with the coloring. The choice of black and white was actually a surprise after several experiments. It brought in a sense of unfamiliarity and theatricality and balanced out some busyness in the images. I would say it kind of worked like an 'image tranquilizer' for me.
What projects are you currently working on, and what are your next theme/s to research?
At the moment, I’m interested in how queer domesticities and homemaking could be means of navigation, negotiation, and resistance. To be more specific, as a space of nourishing, digesting, cleansing, and rejuvenating, as an experimental field for the erotic, as an extension of subjectivity and reflection of the ego, how do queer homes relate to:
a. the sense of security and safety;
b. routine, regularity, and the politics of everyday;
c. the performance of care that's not subordinate to purchase or consumer behavior, etc.
I’m also intrigued by how domestic spaces and objects are shaping our relationships with the world today. I’d like to carry on my research-based practice, and it would be exciting to experiment with more mediums and visual languages! :)
