te editions

This issue chose to confront “plight” — plight of the persecuted, of the artists, of the forgotten, and of those living with colonial legacies. How might we, as individuals, transmute such plights whereby we learn to live in this world? If each piece in this issue can be said to propose a mode of healing, the aim is not to cure specific pathologies, but rather to recommend adjustments and defenses in moments of crisis. While writing on the plights of others, they also look inward for the roots of questions the authors have long harbored about their own experiences. Each of us trudges on, searching for a path forward out of unique situations.

The publication, Dance in Herland, is a collection of behind-the-scenes materials from Luka Yuanyuan Yang’s film series (Chinatown Cha-Cha, American Relatives, etc.) centered around the stories of Chinese immigrants: photographs, film stills, archives, animation production drawings, and outtakes, interspersed with precious snippets of oral history. The book will be a time machine, transporting readers back to the stages of Cantonese opera houses and clubs of Chinatown’s past. Additionally, the book will also include an article by writer Xin Wang, an interview with scholar Selia Tan, and an essay on Esther Eng by scholar S. Louisa Wei.

Kanthy Peng's debut artist book, Ground Sea, weaves a visual narrative exploring depression, memory, and loss through 52 photographs. The book features works from several of her projects: ghostly black-and-white portraits of three women reenacting a Japanese folktale following the 1896 tsunami; vivid, color-saturated photographs revisiting Peng's bedridden experience during illness; and stills from video works documenting her father's post-retirement life after serving in the People's Liberation Army. In Ground Sea, Peng likens the depressed body to a receptor and amplifier of signals from the future. In the tension between stillness and motion, waiting and chasing, the book poses a question: Are those paralyzed by the impending catastrophe in need of treatment, or is it the society—numbed by its relentless pursuit of progress—that requires awakening?