4 AAPI LGBTQ+ Photographers Capturing Artists They Admire

By Leo Foo, Shravya Kag, Justin J. Wee, Chen Xiangyun

June 28, 2023

Essays

One of the most powerful aspects of being in community is being able to see one another truly and deeply. To feel seen, particularly among marginalized identities, can be a profound affirmation of one’s existence.

As this year’s Pride Month comes to a close, we asked four AAPI photographers from the LGBTQ+ community (Leo Foo, Shravya Kag, Justin J. Wee, and Chen Xiangyun) to take portraits of a creative peer who inspires them. These photographs celebrate seeing one another as a radical act in a world that often demands invisibilization.

Vincent Chong by Leo Foo

The Amp: Who did you choose to photograph?

Leo Foo: Vincent Chong (@crystalmonkeycalligraphy) is a queer, mixed-race, Chinese-American artist based in Brooklyn, NY, who practices painting, drawing, calligraphy, seal carving, and performance art. Vincent is also a friend of mine who I’ve been fortunate to get to know over the past year; we met at a mutual friend’s birthday dinner but we’d already been following each other on Instagram before that. Their Chinese zodiac is a Monkey (hence the name “Crystal Monkey”), and they’re also Leo sun, Aquarius rising, and Leo moon.

TA: What has their work meant to you, personally?

LF: I’m particularly drawn to Vincent’s paintings and drawings and wanted to photograph them because I feel like we’re on a similar wavelength as people and artists in what we do, why we do what we do, and the approaches we take. Their practice is very much like mine in how much we care about the people we depict. It’s about relationships, connecting with each other, and conversations.

TA: What was your approach to these portraits? What were you looking to capture about this artist?

LF: I never really walk into a portrait session with a defined “approach.” I just want the photos to be as real as possible, with no performance; just two people seeing each other. I want each photo to be a conversation and a mutual interaction. It’s all about seeing and being seen, and the way each person and I see one another is different and special.

There are definitely shoots where there are communication blockages, but I didn’t feel that at all with Vincent. I spent about five to six hours with them, talking to them, observing them paint and work, learning more about them, and just hanging out. Having a conversation with Vincent has always felt easy and safe, thus I had a feeling that photographing them would feel the same way.

It is always my goal to capture someone’s beauty and have my photos help them feel beautiful, and that also goes for beauty beyond physical appearance. There are so many beautiful parts about someone. I could see Vincent’s beauty in themself, their art, their living space, and their life.

Fabliha Yeaqub by Shravya Kag

The Amp: Who did you choose to photograph?

Shravya Kag: Fabliha Yeaqub (she/they) is a writer and community organizer based in New York City. They’re also the founder of Marigold Seeds Collective, a grassroots organization that focuses on community building through arts and culture for LGBTQIA+ South Asian and Indo-Caribbean people, uplifting and empowering voices of all genders and sexual identities.

TA: What has their work and practice meant to you, personally?

SK: Drawing inspiration from their experiences, Fabliha writes about identity, mental health and sexuality. Through Marigold Seeds Collective, they bring people together through collective art-making workshops and events. In a monthly zine, Fabliha’s World, they document their life through journal entries and a curation of things they read/were inspired by. I was struck by the artistic practice that seamlessly flows through their writing, community work and their personal life.

TA: What was your approach to these portraits? What were you looking to capture about this artist?

SK: I approached these portraits from a place of creative play, collaboration and joy. Fabliha’s writing and community work embodies this joy. I adore the monthly Fabliha’s world zines they make to send out to friends and family and wanted to bring an element of that practice into the studio.

I invited Fabliha to my studio, provided some acrylic paints and collage-making supplies and asked them to play with the backdrop – paint on it, make a collage, tear it into pieces – whatever came to mind. Fabliha created a deeply intentional and powerful piece drawing inspiration from queer cinema and life. “I desire to live” is a quote from the movie Fire by Deepa Mehta, a lesbian love story and one of the first in mainstream South Asian films to show homosexual relationships. The tree with the golden leaves, the spiral symbols and the flames represent “the hope that our stories are everlasting and live on after our material bodies have left this earth.”

We pinned Fabilha’s zines onto the backdrop and included their scrapbooks and notebooks on the floor next to them. The portrait is framed like a page from their zine and hopes to capture the intentionality that Fabliha puts into everything they make.

Terrence Zhou by Justin J. Wee

The Amp: Who did you choose to photograph?

Justin J. Wee: I chose the bad binch Tong Tong (aka: Terrence Zhou, a Chinese designer based in Brooklyn creating some of the most incredible fashion I’ve seen.

TA: What has their work meant to you, personally?

JJW: I love Terrence’s fashion because it feels deeply rooted in a sense of queerness that really resonates with me. The sheer size and creativity of his pieces enable the people wearing them to physically take up space in a way that most clothing doesn’t allow for. The structure in his pieces feel like a form of armor while their flamboyance feels like a tool of liberation which together create a fascinating tension and a feast for the eyes.

I think the way he arrived at this point in his life is something many queer folks of color would find aspirational. He was studying math and was thinking about entering academia before, unbeknownst to his parents, he decided to pivot to fashion because he found himself constantly returning to it in his down time.

He has described his process as being somewhat of a “spiritual download” where he is just a vessel for the creativity that the universe is communicating to him. That sense of being called to this work is something that I feel connected to, and I feel inspired by his courage to back himself and reframe the fear of failure that a lot of creative folks feel overwhelmed by. In a world where queer folks have to largely create their own pathways for success, I feel privileged to live in a time where I can witness someone’s dedication to their craft and watch it bear the fruit it rightfully deserves.

TA: What was your approach to these portraits? What were you looking to capture about this artist?

JJW: I photographed him in his studio and collaborated with him to make pictures that captured his personality and work. I wanted the queerness and innovation of his work to shine.

Patrick Lee by Chen Xiangyun

The Amp: Who did you choose to photograph?

Chen Xiangyun: Patrick Lee (@patrickglee) is a queer diasporic Korean documentary filmmaker, writer and community organizer. I first came across their film Unspoken at Q-Wave’s Homecoming film festival. The film documents Asian Americans reading the coming out letters that they wrote to their parents. I cried throughout the whole film, feeling myself reading the letters and wanting acceptance from the parents.

TA: What has their work and practice meant to you, personally?

CX: After my tears, I thought, “this was such a clever idea to tell our story in our own voice!” I felt super connected even though we had never met. Then I watched other films they did that reveal the Asian LGBTQ+ community, especially the hidden histories. That’s also what I try to do through my work: paint a more complete image of Asian queerness.

TA: What was your approach to these portraits? What were you looking to capture about this artist?

CX: I imagined these images floating between reality and fiction. We started with the reality which was Patrick’s interests, then went from there to create the fictional Patricks. You can probably tell the personality of an artist through their work, but there also can be different sides of this artist that you would never know, hence mysteriousness coming to play. We shot between 6—9:30pm because those are mysterious hours; the sun is setting and people are often transitioning to the night or into another persona or outfit. Speaking of outfits, I want to thank Patrick and their stylist friend, The Henry, for preparing different looks for this photoshoot. Another big thank you goes to the owner of Tofu Tofu, a Korean restaurant on Bowery. The image of Patrick with two phones was shot at her restaurant.