Teenage Riot

October 17, 2018

Teenage Riot is Japanese-born, New York-based street photographer, Fumi Nagasaka’s sophomore book, which showcases portraits taken over the course of several years of four teenage girls from varying backgrounds—a small town in Canada, Brooklyn and Tokyo. With this project, Nagasaka was specifically interested in understanding how upbringings in divergent cultures were reflected in each girl’s personality and interests.

The book is a natural progression from her first offering, Untitled Youth, a sizeable collection of portraits taken against plain backgrounds which focuses in on her teenage subjects, seeking to capture their purity and innocence. With Teenage Riot, Nagasaka expanded on her process, pulling the camera’s viewpoint out and allowing her subjects’ worlds to contribute to their visual story.

Interview by Paige Silveria

office called the photographer to talk about her new book, now available at the office Newsstand.

Where are you now?

I’m in New York now, but heading to Alabama tomorrow for ten days for another project that I’ve been working on since last year. I don’t know when I’ll finish it. I’m always working on many different projects at the same time and they’ll probably continue on for the next five or six years. Whenever I have time or money, I travel to photograph for my projects.

What were you like as a teenager growing up in Japan, which has a very conservative culture?

When I was younger, schools were more strict than they are now. There were so many rules to follow and that’s part of why I left Japan—because I knew there had to be another way.

Were you rebellious?

No, I was actually good at following the rules. I was a leader of the class. I was the teacher’s favorite. Even if I had things to say against the rules, I kept them to myself. I was a good student. But I didn’t really agree with the system.

What was it like coming to liberal America for the first time?

I went to LA for six months when I was 18. What I really liked about American culture is that you can really be yourself. You don’t have to follow anyone else. It made me think that I wanted to leave Japan. America was a great place for opportunities. And at that time, I was really looking for what I wanted to do with my life. I thought that New York, especially, could give me options. It could open my eyes to discover things that I didn’t know about.

How do you think it changed you, moving here?

It changed my whole perspective on life. Living here and working in this industry changed my way of thinking. I think it made me more vocal and stronger. When I moved here, I didn’t really speak English. So, I learned through photographing people for this street photography magazine called Street. It was before the internet and blogs. And my roommate had an old issue of the magazine. I saw all of these photos of London and thought I’d reach out to the Editor in Chief and see if they wanted photos of New York. And so that’s how I started. I was outside all of the time. In winter and in bad weather, I was always taking photos. I was very shy in the beginning, but I was forced to speak to people when getting their photographs, so I learned to not be so shy and my English improved this way. And before this, I’d never really thought about becoming a photographer.

It must have also opened up your social life a lot, as well.

Yeah I met so many friends and people from all over the world. Like, if I met some people from Iceland, I would end up visiting them in their home countries to photograph them.

How did you meet the four girls in Teenage Riot?

The place they grew up in really affects who they become. For the girl in Canada, she’s my book publisher’s daughter. I met her at the New York book fair three years or so ago. I was surprised how different she was from her parents, who are very cultural. She really likes Kim Kardashian and had really crazy eyelashes. I thought it was so interesting that she grew up in an art environment and had such dissimilar interests from her parents. That made me want to photograph her. So, I spent some time up with them at their home in Canada. Because the town is very small, all of the information she gets is from social media and the internet. She would wear Juicy Couture pink velour tracksuits and was really into Victoria’s Secret. Every year I went back and she would change her style—it was always very different from the year before. And when she turned 16, she got her driver’s license. So I would drive around with her in the white BMW her parents gave her.

Tell me about the girls in Brooklyn.

The sisters, 14 and 16 years old, were born and raised in Bushwick, in a kind of rough area. They’re into smoking weed and boys. I thought it was really funny. So, I started following them around to the places they went.

The Japanese girl, does she remind you of yourself?

Yeah, she reminds me a lot of myself when I was young. She grew up in a Tokyo, in a really big city. She’s very quiet, very shy. She doesn’t know what she wants to do with her life. She has something inside—she just doesn’t know how to express it yet. I think that’s why I wanted to photograph her. She’s a very typical Japanese teen.

The book seems very subdued. Why does the title have the word riot in it?

The title of the book comes from the idea that teenagers have something to say, but they’re too young to take real action. So, they do little actions every day in their lives. And I find that interesting, what they choose to do. I wanted to document that.

How is it a progression of your last book, Untitled Youth?

That book was published in 2016 and was a simple portrait of teens in different countries. For that, I just wanted to focus on the beauty of youth. I shot them on very simple backgrounds so there’s no distraction. Teenage Riot is kind of like a next step in that I wasn’t only interested in a portrait of the teenagers, but also their lives—how they live. My projects are always evolving with each publication.

What does the next evolution look like?

Well, photographing teenagers is my passion. But recently, I’ve been photographing older people as well, and including landscapes and still lifes with the portraits. I like a documentary style.

I was going to ask why you don’t shoot elderly people for instance, who have so much more behind their eyes.

Everything that goes along with being a teenager is so fleeting—they have beautiful skin and don’t have to worry about their futures. They fall in love and think they’ll get married. There’s a freedom in the way you think as a teenager. They don’t need to think about making money and paying bills. So, that’s why I love this age, but then because they’re young, I always need to get permission from their parents, who are more like my age. And then I’d meet their grandparents. So, now I’m photographing them, as well. And especially living in New York, I’ve met a lot of people from different nationalities and backgrounds. Like, I photographed this Russian family in Brighton Beach. The parents moved from Russia in the ’80s, but their kids are American and they all speak Russian to one another. And their grandparents came from Russia, but they don’t speak English even after living here for 40 years.

When you spend time with the girls, do you ever give them advice? In a way, especially with the Japanese girl, it’s like you can speak with your younger self.

Well the girls already have their own strong opinions. I don’t want to push them to think another way. I respect who they are. At the same time, if they ask me for my opinion about boys or what to wear or how to do makeup, I always give them opinions. One of the sisters is into art and asked me how I began my career. So, I tell her to do whatever she wants, to express herself. For my first book, I photographed over 200 kids over seven years. Some asked my advice about life, parents, sisters and brothers or girlfriends and boyfriends. I give them advice, but I don’t push them too much. I’m just happy to listen to their stories.

What do you learn from them?

To remember how I was when I was younger—I was very pure and I trusted everyone and respected everyone. And now, like with anyone who grows up, it’s not all about myself. You have to live and you have to work. There’s some pureness and truth in my photography. They’re raw and real and I think that comes from how I communicate with them. I think it’s very important for my photography. I want to be innocent—I want to be pure.

How do you define honesty and purity?

For instance, kids in New York have a lot of information for everything. Compared to people in the small towns, the kids in the cities are already grown up. They know more. And sometimes they have attitudes. Sometimes they’ve already worked with some other photographers on their projects. And they’ll ask me how much I’m going to pay them. So, I try to explain to them that this is my art project—it’s not about money. I will show them my work and most of the time they’ll understand and agree to work with me.

How do your parents feel about your work?

Well, I do not come from an art family so it was hard to make them understand about art and fashion and photography. I don’t think they understand my work. If they see photos of flowers or landscapes, they think those are beautiful pictures to hang on the wall. But I photograph mostly people, so they don’t really hang any of my photos up in their house. But they’re just happy that I’m doing well and they’re supportive. And my mom is obsessed with Instagram, so whatever comes out she reposts and tells people to buy my books.

'Teenage Riot' is available now at the office Newsstand.

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Pamela Sneed’s Speaking Tongue opens at Dashwood Projects

November 15, 2024

Pamela Sneed’s latest exhibition, Speaking Tongue, will be on view at Dashwood Projects from November 20 to December 21. The show features twenty watercolor and ink paintings inspired by her recent trip to Kenya, where she was deeply moved by the elegance of giraffes, the landscapes, and the energy of Nairobi.

Blending her background as a poet and visual artist, Sneed’s work reflects on themes of identity, nature, and connection. Her paintings capture the beauty and spirit of the animals she encountered, alongside reflections on her own experiences as part of the African diaspora.

This exhibition marks Sneed’s first solo show with Dashwood Projects and will be accompanied by a new book, also titled Speaking Tongue, to be released in December.

By Enzo Holdt
Artworks by Pamela Sneed

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Tiebreaker - Alvin Armstrong

November 15, 2024

There is a moment of silence right before the play. Just before the racket strikes the ball as it hangs weightless in the air, breathless and charged. It’s the fleeting yet decisive instant that can alter the course of the match, determining who wins and who loses.

Alvin Armstrong depicts this crucial moment in his new exhibition Tiebreaker, symbolizing the risks and rewards of competition. It’s an implication of something else at stake, where athletes push not only their bodies, but their spirits to the absolute limit.

The dynamic figures embody the strength, grace, and agility juxtaposed by the vibrant color palette evoking not just the joy of competition but the charged energy of the court.

Tiebreaker is opening Thursday, November 16th at Anna Zorina Gallery.

By Rea Brayshaw
Artworks by Alvin Armstrong

Art

The Things People Are Ashamed To Take Photos Of: The Photography and Films of Yuhan Cheng

Yuhan’s latest exhibition of photo and video work titled 窗子外 Outside the Window, Inside the Tank 鱼缸里 takes its namesake from what could’ve been a mundane encounter. A month after moving to New York City from Chengdu, China, they stumbled across an abandoned fish tank left curbside. It reminded them of “the rotating fish in a tank that faded into the background of their mother’s home in Chengdu”, a thread connecting childhood familiarity that transformed into a symbol of greater significance in adulthood. A tank is a world within a world; a microcosm secluded from the broader chaos of the outside. Since then Yuhan has captured the other kinds of “fish tanks” closest to them in their photography and short films. Not literal ones necessarily– but intimate confined spaces in Chengdu and NYC where time stands still.

In the midst of taking snapshots of loved ones, Yuhan decided to turn their tender but examining lens on themselves. They realized shooting self-portraits unraveled a deeper understanding of their own nonbinary gender and queer sexuality. Yuhan admits in one of their short films “I hide from looking at my own body.” Yet, in the seclusion of their room which doubles as a dark room, Yuhan began to develop their first nude photos chronicling the subtle wounds; bitten cuticles, bruises, and scrapes they’ve accumulated involuntarily, once again documenting the things people choose to hide.

窗子外 Outside the Window, Inside the Tank 鱼缸里, debuted at FAR-NEAR Studio Hours a gallery in Chinatown focused on expanding the art world's view of Asia and Asian artists curated by Lulu Yao Gioiello. The event merged Yuhan’s works from the past three years, including 70 photographs, three short documentaries, and one installation. There was something uncanny about the gallery’s atmosphere – from the dollar store teal green curtains obscuring every window to the clusters of framed photos mimicking how photos of relatives are displayed in one’s childhood home, to the darkened lighting that was both disorienting and cozy. All these details were meticulously chosen to imitate the rooms depicted in Yuhan’s films and photography. In other words, the audience was invited to Yuhan’s “fishtank”, to share the odd balance of comfort and unease of being known intimately. We talked to Yuhan at Cafe Reggio to understand how their latest body of work came into being.

Initially, I was exploring my friends’ identities through the lens, but slowly, it became a tool to confront and understand my own queerness and gender identity.

Ora Margolis— Were any memories/childhood experiences you had in Chengdu important to how you've developed as an artist?

Yuhan Cheng— Growing up in Chengdu, especially in a military household, shaped and gave me a source of contention how I understood my identity. There was always a sense of conflict when it came to my body and feeling like I didn’t quite fit the expectations around me. This tension has been a driving force in my practice, pushing me to explore identity and belonging in my work.

Tell us a bit about your latest exhibition Outside the Window, Inside the Tank at Far. What headspace were you in when taking these photos?

YC— Outside the Window, Inside the Tank is about the fluidity of self; our bodies, our environments, and our identities. The idea of water as both a symbol of confinement and freedom is central to the photos and film that comprise the exhibit. This fluidity much like how I see my experience moving between Chengdu and New York, where similar feelings follow me no matter where I am. Water mirrors the body, the frame, and the room, which are all containers of the self.

Previously, you’ve said you wanted the exhibition space to look "like your room". How did you make that happen and why is your NYC room important to you?

YC— My room in NYC is an extension of my identity. It’s where I feel vulnerable and where I explore myself most openly. It’s a manifestation of my sense of self. I recreated certain elements in the exhibition—the green sheer curtains, the dollar store shower curtain with bubbles, and the center installation depicted a self-portrait deteriorating in water, reminiscent of a fish in a tank. This room, like any other room or container, magnifies the tension of self-exploration.

Has your idea or comfort with your gender identity and /sexuality changed since you’ve delved into photography?

YC— Yes. The process of photography and filming has been a mirror to my own understanding of self. Initially, I was exploring my friends’ identities through the lens, but slowly, it became a tool to confront and understand my own queerness and gender identity. The process of photographing my queer friends and then myself allowed me to come to terms with who I am.

How did you and Lulu Yao of FAR-NEAR Studio meet, and what makes her a good collaborator?

YC— We first connected when I reached out with my series Princess of Funan River. Lulu understood the struggles and complexities in the work and she invited me to expand on those ideas with her. Our collaboration has worked because Lulu truly resonates with the themes I’m drawn to, like fluidity, transformation, and the intimacy of navigating belonging.

After completing Fish Tank and Remnants of an Amateur Film, what kind of movie do you want to make next?

YC— Right now, I’m more focused on writing. I need to understand what I want to say before making another film. Writing helps me find clarity;it’s a crucial part of my process.

What kind of camera do you use and why?

YC— I use a Canon AE-1. I started with it and I still love it. It's small, spontaneous, easy to use, and light. It allows me to capture moments naturally without overthinking.

What's your biggest fear?

YC— Being disconnected from my sense of self, from others, and from the things I love.

When do you feel most like yourself?

YC— It’s during those fleeting moments when I complete a project. That feeling fades quickly, leaving me searching for the next project to reconnect with that sense of fulfillment.

How do you want people to feel when they interact with your art?

YC— I want them to feel whatever resonates with them. I don’t want to prescribe the experience; it should feel right for each person.

Your work focuses on the close knit communities that surround you or various metaphorical “fish tanks”. What communities do you feel closest to?
YC— The queer artist community, both in Chengdu and NYC, has been a source of comfort and understanding for me. There’s something about shared struggles and shared creative language that feels like home.

What's the biggest difference between living life as a queer artist in NYC and in Chengdu?

YC— In both NYC and Chengdu, I’m learning more about myself. NYC offers a sense of freedom, while Chengdu is home, a place of comfort and history. Neither place defines me but both are significant parts of my path.

What are your next moves/goals?

YC— I want to continue exploring both film and photography, expanding my narrative style and experimenting across mediums. During my show, I found new ways of seeing my photographs such as by adding a window screen between frames or letting a self-portrait fade and grow mold in water. These approaches allowed me to see my work not just as 2D images but as 3D objects.

I want to keep pushing the boundaries of how photo and film can interact, and I’m also interested in trying photojournalism. My focus remains on collaborating across mediums and continuing to accumulate experiences that I can translate into sincere honest work.