The Photography of Corky Lee: Frame By Frame
by Melissa Chan

In order to document a people, one has to capture the vibrant culture, the gracious flaws, the inner beauty, individualism, profound strength of unity and, most of all, their presence of heart. Corky Lee has documented the soul of the Asian American community for the past thirty years through his heralded photography. The Asian/Pacific/American studies department at NYU held a photography exhibition on September 26th, 2002, showcasing 25 of Lee's most provocative images from the 1970's.

Corky Lee's showcase included frequented cultural advertising as well as atypical perspectives of Asian American people that are not as commonly seen. Photographs such as "Lion Dance, Lunar New Year" of 1977 and "Chinatown Cultural Festival" of 1979 vividly portray the rich culture of the Chinese that has continued to thrive in the streets of America. The images are a reminder that the unique traditions of the Chinese will not diminish with geographical displacement or with the succession of generations. They will always retain their cultural identity despite all attempts of political negligence and oppression.

The beauty of Lee's photography is particularly found not in the photos of lavish subject matter but rather in those that deal with simplicity and quiet strength. In "Sojourner Mailboxes," all that is seen is a wide array of mailboxes in a Bayard Street apartment building in 1975 Chinatown. Names like Tai Mui, Sam Wong, and Leung Hon run across the wall. One can't help but notice that all the names under their respective boxes are of Asian descent. The message rings loud and clear: Asians have arrived and we aren't moving.

The fact that Asians have built a community and asserted their residence leads us to the question of identifying their reality of life. Another powerful photograph provides such an investigation by simply featuring a hallmark of Asian immigrants: the sewing machine. Lee used his mother's own sewing machine for the shot, taken in front of a wall with a Chinese calendar and pictures of her sister's wedding snugly in the background. It reminds many of us what constitutes the lifestyle of those Asian Americans who toil for their money, and the pictures on the wall remind us that a happy family is the reason why they toil the way they do. The sewing machine in the photo looked like the exact one my mother has and, realizing that my mother put her Chinese calendar right by her machine as well, I thought the picture was a scene taken from my own house. It was such an uncanny coincidence that I realized that because the garment industry has an indeterminable influence on many Asian American families, the majority of immigrant households probably has one.

The image that touched me the most was the first one I saw when I arrived at the exhibition. When I entered the gallery, I was greeted by a picture of Asian children involved in a game of tug-of-war in Columbus Park, New York City in 1975. Appropriately entitled "Tug-of-War," the frame centers on the face of the boy in front whose countenance shows the incredible exertion in which he tries so hard to hold his ground. His cheeks are inflated like balloons and his hands writhe against the rope in unbridled force. The innocence of the boy's face is illuminated, marking his belief that sheer determination will be the deciding factor for triumph over failure. The purity of conviction in a young heart is a universal understanding; the photograph speaks to our eternal human desire for distinction and yet acceptance among others.

Taking each photograph into a different context, it became refreshingly evident that Lee's vision lies in the emphasis of the Asian American community's resiliency. He shows all walks of life in all shapes and sizes. From everyday scenes to publicized displays of protests, from the young to the old, he casts a spotlight not on representation but on dimension. However, Lee refuses to play the celebrity. When asked why he decided to become a photographer, Lee quips, "Because I can't write." Much like his humble persona, Lee's photographs do not intend to glorify Asian Americans; instead, the images allow the world to see the reality that Asian Americans own.

With every picture, there lies a profound meaning. One can hang it, frame it, or let it rest between two moldy pages in a forgotten album. When the moment comes when we avert out attention to that spot on the wall, on the desk, to the page that coats our fingers with dust, we then see it with fresh eyes. A story was told back then, and it will tell itself over and over as long as we see not only the boy's face but also the boy's place. Due to the efforts of Corky Lee, I know the tug of war will not be lost as long as Asian Americans refuse to be pulled out of the picture.