The Taiwanese photographer Annie Wang’s ongoing series “Mother as Creator” portrays how a parent imagines and reimagines her place in the world she builds with and for her child.
In a 2001 series called “I Sign; I Exist,” the Taiwanese photographer Annie Wang took pictures of her pregnant belly as she signed and dated it, the way an artist autographs a canvas. The experience of pregnancy, she wrote, in a statement about the series, presented a paradox: her body was performing a great feat of creation, but, in doing so, it was beginning to overshadow the creative identity she’d earned through her work as an artist. In the eyes of the world, pregnancy and motherhood can turn a woman into a mere vessel, subsumed by the sacrifices she makes for her children. In these photos, Wang asserts her active role in the making of another life, reframing motherhood as a grand creative endeavor.
This is postwar photography in the context of an American presence, but Iraq is still at war with itself. In these photos, I attempted to explore the aftermath of American occupation and the current challenges facing Iraq.
Riverside is a chapter in a larger on-going project entitled “Marooned”. Marooned of course refers to being stuck on an island. South Korea, though not technically an island, is still cut off from the rest of Asia by North Korea, a barrier more difficult to cross than any sea or ocean. It is therefore a de facto island, an island I have been living on for the last 8 years. “Marooned” is my look at the island that has been my home for nearly a decade, a home that even after 8 years is still a bit of an awkward fit for a foreigner who isn’t quite as immersed as he could be, though it wouldn’t really be possible for a foreigner to immerse himself completely in what is still a rather conservative society.