49 (2024) by Kevin Phan is a triptych of ghost-like images hovering over time punch cards. The central image depicts an urban scene with signage, while the two side images feature outlines of individuals floating across the cards. Upon first seeing this work, I immediately thought of Taiwanese performance artist Tehching Hsieh, who used time punch cards as part of an endurance performance, and how the punch cards he used during it now act as exhibition documentations and archival objects. Hsieh’s investigation in thinking about the body’s relationship with this time-keeping apparatus parallels Kevin’s approach to visualizing these bodies emerging out of these timecards. Upon further conversation, I found out that these images are from Kevin’s own family archive, which is a key concern for Kevin’s practice overall.
Given the personal specificities of these images, Kevin’s first talking point for this interview was about the legibility of his work.
KP: “As I am wrapping up my MFA, I think about my audience specifically. And I think about whether or not the work is legible. A lot of my work is based on the writings of (Race and Performance Studies Scholar) Vivian Huang. Her brainwork on illegibility and inscrutability are important concepts in my practice, often searching for new possibilities in that.
IK: What types of possibilities?
KP: I imagined the possibilities of Vietnamese American liberation, which became an interest of mine during my undergraduate studies. My interest came from trying to understand and steer away from liberalism which did not leave room for considering alternative lives and possibilities that thought of what would happen if there was not any interventionism in Vietnam.
IK: So why did you decide to be an artist to talk about this, instead of other avenues? What about creating art about this viewpoint appealed to you?
KP: At the time, I used art as a means to understand my identity and my place. And I guess that was one way of thinking.
IK: What are some formative experiences that you've had with art that really started paving the way for you?
KP: Nguyen Tan Hoang wrote A View From the Bottom and is also a video artist. I read the book first and then found out that he was an artist. Watching his works shaped my interest a lot
IK: So how do these thinking processes from various written sources translate in your work?
KP: Yeah, I think, um, well, I grew up using a computer and exploring and understanding my identity through the internet. Growing up in Indiana, it wasn't acceptable to express my identity most time, so the Internet was the only way for me to understand. I started watching videos and looking at art, and I even took my first photography class because I wanted to take Instagram-worthy photos, but then I became more interested in Asian American Studies and the impact that art can have. Oftentimes, I feel like the texts aren't very accessible or people just won't read them.
IK: Yeah, that's a good way to put it. Theory writing just for the sake of theory writing can get so annoying. I hate that kind of stuff. It's funny how you say you grew up with the internet because that resonates with me a lot too, and probably many people who were raised in early 2000s internet culture. Do you think it was the main way to understand your identity? Do you think it provided a good guideline? What was your experience like when it came to understanding yourself while being mainly on the internet?
KP: It gave me an okay guideline. I don’t think it was perfect, but many children of immigrants who ended up having their parents working all the time would turn to the internet to understand themselves. I don’t think it is great for everything, but I do appreciate that level of accessibility. As mentioned previously, Kevin is particularly concerned with the specific relationship between his family history and himself. Through this his practice, the artist reflects upon a larger pattern of immigration that generated numerous personal stories, including his own. The photographs and narratives he obtains from family archives serve as primary visual sources for many of his works.
IK: What role does digital media play in creating a family archive? How can we connect the personal and physical aspects of our family history with the public and digital realm?
KP: I'm interested in how we can preserve family history in the digital age. How do we connect personal archives with public ones? I've been looking into my own family archive and want others to do the same. I chose to focus on personal experiences rather than the broader history of Vietnam, particularly the complex issue of the American war there.
IK: How does your family react to you using their images in your work, or appearing as subjects?
KP: They think it looks cool! They’re fine with it. There’s something very sweet about recontextualizing your understanding of the past. I graduated from college in 2020 and really enjoyed being at home with my family. Oftentimes, Asian Americans internalize the idea that their parents or grandparents are super disconnected from them, so I think finding moments for genuine connection gets reflected in my work a lot.
IK: Sometimes I feel like I have a limited understanding of the historical and political aspects of the events that led to my parents and me migrating, but then I also feel like I have a pretty good grasp of the issues and effects of that. I think configuring that takes time and effort.
KP: I once had a studio visit with photographer An-My Lê. She asked me why I incorporate specific historical references in my work, which made me reconsider my choice. Initially, it seemed like a logical decision, but now I think it may have been somewhat arbitrary, as a response to trying to accomplish some sort of relevance through appealing to existing tactics.
IK: I really admire her work! I've visited her studio, and her work is super impressive. When I think about my personal growth and how it relates to art, I find that initially, I was drawn to the possibilities of, let’s say, abstract expressionism when I was 18. I just liked it. Then, I started considering other styles and asking questions like "why this?" and "why that?" These types of art encourage you to ask both broad and specific questions. I don't know, how do you kind of mediate that? Or is that a concern for you? I guess that's a better question to ask.
KP: As you acquire more information, you realize that these histories are not stable. You continue to evolve and change as you gather more and more information, so I suppose that's one way I attempted to deal with that. Incidentally, this is really reflective of the fragmented histories and the gaps that we usually live and want to account for.
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