The Modern Orientalist Gaze, Domestic Objects, and My Own Rerooting

stoninofile



For the past two years, I have been exploring the fetishization of inanimate objects, more specifically objects from Filipino culture. I have been questioning why parts of my culture have been fetishized and depicted as exotic by the Western world. I have even found myself fetishizing certain cultural objects and displaying them as decor and showing them off even though they are completely mundane and common in the Philippines. This is due to my heritage, I am half Filipino, half American. I have never had a “proper” sense of belonging to either side of myself and have lived abroad my whole life, never being fully immersed in either culture. I create attachments to items that help me feel more assimilated in my cultures. I cherish these mundane objects as they remind me where I come from, whether that be a Filipino woven sleeping mat or a simple jar of American JIF peanut butter. This ‘insider/outsider’ perspective I have allows me to create my work. I have learnt about my roots in domestic spaces, my homes. Even when moving around from country to country, my domestic space and culture has remained the same, a mix of foods, languages, art, and traditions from my Filipino mother and aunt, and my American father. My siblings and I being a warped product of that, not knowing where we belong in the diaspora. As I try to reconnect and re-learn where I come from, I ask the important questions of : How and why are certain cultural (Filipino) objects fetishized in the Western world? How is this fetishization used as a tool to perpetuate the Orientalist gaze today? and How does the Orientalist gaze continue to be perpetuated? The urge to answer these questions is what drives my work and my upbringing allows for that.


For our senior thesis show, I planned to include 4 pieces I have made in the past two years (due to COVID-19, the show has been postponed indefinitely): two small installations, and two sculptures. The first piece being, ‘Conical Hat’. A hand woven hat made from vintage National Geographic Magazine pages I made at the end of 2019. Each piece is hand rolled and glued into tubes about 10 inches long, then connected together by inserting one tube into the other. Finally, the tubes are woven together over a cardboard template that I formed into a wide cone to mimic the shape of a Asian farmers hat. The paper pieces are hues of blue, green, and beige, referring to scenes of the ocean, forest, and desert. At a closer glance, the yellow ribbons that run throughout the hat suggest at the National Geographic magazine. 

Conical Hat, 2019

Conical Hat, 2019

The Asian conical hat is popular among farmers due to the fact that it covers their heads and shoulders from the sun and the rain.  The hat is usually made from natural fibers, such as raffia, rattan or dry reeds of some sort, and formed through weaving or tying parts together. It is used all over Southeast and East Asia, every culture with their slightly altered version. 

The hat was first seen in the United States when Chinese immigrants brought them over in the mid 19th century. The Chinese immigrants were used as cheap labor, and many of them would wear the hats they brought with them when they were working. This exposed the hat to Americans. There was a strong hatred toward the Chinese/any Asian immigrants and the hat gained a new term by Americans, the ‘coolie hat’. The term ‘coolie’ was a derogatory word taken and twisted from a Hindu word to refer to cheap laborers or slave workers, the term ‘coolie’ then began to be used in many political cartoons to refer to Asian laborers in a belittling and oppressive way, hence the creation of the term ‘coolie hat’. The hat became a symbol in Western media of the Asian immigrants Americans hated. Through political cartoons, the drawing of the Asian immigrant with slit eyes, buck teeth, and the conical hat became mainstream and the way Asians were represented for over a hundred years. The conical hat is a tool to reduce hundreds of cultures into one physical object. 

The National Geographic is a high brow, scholarly, intellectual journal, it is trusted by many. It has been responsible for creating many representations of the non-west in the West. This magazine produced thousands of curated images of the global South: beautiful and fascinating photos of people living their daily lives. On most occasions, it would be photos of people in poverty, suffering, but photographed in an appealing, aesthetically pleasing way. It was easy for the Western world to consume and enjoy without wanting to put the magazine down or feeling any guilt. Just like Orientalist paintings, photographers would depict people and cultures as primitive, child-like, incapable of taking care of themselves and needing saving, that their way of life is not the right one. I wanted to dissect the loaded object that is the Asian conical hat as well as explore the origins of its racist Western interpretation. Nat Geo has been the source of many false representations of the global South  including the unjust portrayal of mine. 

At the moment I am making sculptural pieces related to the resource/material exploitation of the Philippines in relation to a religious icon I was surrounded by growing up. A few months ago, I found out that Santo Niño de Cebu, a childhood figure of mine, was actually used as a tool for colonization and catholic conversion of the Philippines. The Santo Niño de Cebu, who is a version of the baby Jesus, was given as a gift from the Spanish when they first arrived on Cebu island. He is the oldest catholic relic in the Philippines and was seen as a symbol of hope, making it easier for the Spanish to baptize and convert everyone to Catholicism. This figure had always been with me growing up, a small statue of him either at my bedside or in the home. I thought of him as a symbol of protection and sanctuary. To find out that he was a powerful tool of conversion really twisted my image of the Santo Niño, not understanding my relationship with him now. Although I am no longer religious, my perceptions of certain figures have been warped and I have been questioning all the other figures and icons I have grown up with. I have taken the small statue I have of the Sto. Niño, molded it, and then casted it in melted sugar over and over again. A repetitive and ritualistic process for me when creating these pieces.

Santo Niño de Cebu, 2020

Santo Niño de Cebu, 2020

The sugar industry in the Philippines was one of the largest sources of income. The US took total control of it starting 1880, almost 100% of the native sugar being exported to the US for them to use and sell. The poured melted sugar looks like a deep amber or resin. Over time, the shape of the figure begins to blur as the sugar melts and decays. In the end, the Santo Niño becomes a tacky puddle that drips on the floor waiting to be replaced by another. It is a cycle, the Santo Niño is placed in its altar, it decays, it is replaced without the memory of the figure that once stood there. The sugar returns back to its native form, and no longer is recognized as its colonized form, the Santo Niño de Cebu.

I am also creating a small installation depicting an artificial “exotica paradise”. When one hears the word ‘exotic’, you usually think of muddled island imagery not really stemming from anywhere specific. It is coconuts, palm trees in the sun, the ocean, white sand, and people with tanned skin. I want to indulge and delve into this artificial idea of a tropical ‘exotic’ paradise. The word ‘exotic’ can be used to describe anything from fruit, plants, wood, and people. The term exotic is something I am familiar with as it has been used to describe myself by many of my white family members and friends. I am creating a tableau depicting this idea of the fetishized ‘exotic fantasy’. It will contain exotic fruit, plants, smells, seashells and sand. The smells will be a mix of strong fruity “tropical scents” such as scents named ‘paradise retreat’ and ‘Hawaii’, created by brands such as Glade and Frebreeze. The smells will fill the space with a pungent muddled aroma: strong, disgusting, and repulsive. It will be hard to be able to stand in the space for more than a few minutes. Everything will be artificial, made of foam or plastic, a faint smell of plastic also in the air. The buzz of a fan and cliché tropical sounds will play in the background. Everything will be/has been sourced from American capitalist stores/businesses such as Target, Amazon, and the Dollar Tree. After the installation is shown, I will return all these materials back to the store in order to not support the creation of these Exoticist and objects that also happen to be made from toxic unsustainable materials that pollute the Philippines. 

Mestiza, 2019

Mestiza, 2019

Lastly, I want to show an installation I made last year called “Mestiza”. “Mestiza” is a sanctuary I created for myself. When presented, the installation space is filled by significant objects from my upbringing. Specifically Filipino objects related to the domestic space that I grew up with such as a broom (walis), a sleeping mat (banig), a chicken feather duster, and certain snacks and foods. The smell of efficascent oil, tiger balm, and incense coat the air, scents that ground me and allow me to reconnect to my old homes. A dim orange glow lights up the space along with a dozen lit tea light candles, it is quiet, dark, warm, and safe. In the center of the room sits an old box television frame, the insides and the screen taken out and filled with numerous objects and images. The top of the TV frame painted with a Filipino sun, the rest of the TV painted red and blue, the colors of the Filipino flag. The inside and outside of the TV is covered in melted wax, and tea light candles. Inside the TV holds objects rooted to my Filipino side: handmade purple and white church candles, tiger balm, a bottle of green efficascent oil, hand carved wood goggles, a native Philippine pearl, the Santo Niño de Cebu, ferry tickets, seashells I collected from our favorite beach in Bohol, peso coins  and my Filipino passport sitting front and center. The TV serves as portable shrine for myself. A shrine I can take with me and set up when I need to reconnect, ground myself, and heal my severed roots. A space where I do not feel guilt or the need to validate where I am from. The process of creating this piece was healing, and it continues to mend my constant state of loss and confusion when it comes to my idea of ‘home’ or  ‘origin’. The ritual of collecting and curating objects that hold importance to me soothed the constant questioning and hesitation I have when I think about where my ‘home’ is. This piece is intended for myself, and I do not expect or want others to fully understand why I chose to include certain objects or materials because I do not fully know why I have either. 

Mestiza (detail), 2019

Mestiza (detail), 2019


The key concepts and ideas that run throughout my work revolve around Orientalism, Fetishism, Exotification, and worship that all focus on my cultural background. The core questions that drive my work being: how/why are certain cultural (Filipino) objects fetishized in the Western world and how is this a tool used to perpetuate Orientalism today? 

The Snake Charmer, Jean Leon-Gérome, 1880

The Snake Charmer, Jean Leon-Gérome, 1880

Orientalism according to Edward Said, a cultural critic who devoted himself to defining and exposing Orientalism in the Western world, “is a style of thought that separates the East and the West”. ‘The Orient’ as a concept is a European invention. Europeans would travel to ‘the Orient’ which was mostly the Middle East beginning in the 15th century and would bring back their curated findings. I use the term ‘curated’ because they would pick and choose what information they wanted to share to the West. They would describe the East as a fantastical, romantic, mythical place filled with exotic beings, haunting memories and surreal landscapes. ‘The Orient’ became almost a fictional place, a place where people did not have jobs and just sat around all day listening to music and charming snakes as depicted by Jean Leon Gerome in his painting The Snake Charmer (1880).  Many of these paintings depicting the Middle East are very similar in setting, they portray people in a fantasy space without any history, context, or modernity. There are no women, and if there were, they would be naked. There are no Westerners or signs of industry and work either. Orientalist paintings and writings allowed for a space where Westerners’ “sadistic and erotic desires could be projected without any consequences and their fantasies could be satisfied”. I relate this back to most of my work, especially when it comes to my pieces Conical Hat, and Paradise Exotica that explore fetishized depictions of my culture and the fantasy that surrounds that.

Orientalism is perpetuated today through Nat Geo magazines and travel Instagrams. The ideas of “the Orient” have not changed since the 15th century. I dissect the modern Orientalist gaze to fully understand how it works and how it is used as a tool to further oppress the Global South. 

Similar to Orientalism, Exoticism creates a fantasy paradise space for Westerners to consume and curate however they want. A space where Westerners can feel superior and cultured. The word ‘exotic’ has always had a positive connotation in the Western world. When we hear ‘exotic’ we think of a paradise, tropical scenery, sunshine, and piña coladas. We think of people with tanned skin and accents, eating mangoes on the beach. It is a word associated with bliss and far away lands. However, ‘exotic’ also has a sexual connotation associated with it, ‘exotic dancing’ known to be another term for strip dancer. The word ‘exotic’ emits an idea of a sensual tropical fantasy where one can do and have whatever they want. Researching this term and its origins inspired me to create Paradise Exotica.

The false images that the term ‘exotic’ produces is due to Exoticism starting in the 16th century. European colonizers were traveling and bringing back pieces from “far away lands” to show the Western world. Europeans became fascinated in everything the non-West had to offer, their food, their art, and their people. The colonizers told stories of what they saw, usually stories depicting the non-West as a primitive culture that did not have industry or innovation. That all these people did all day was lounge and watch naked women and children dance. This idea of the “exotic non-West” still exists today. 

“Exotic” can mean foreign, alien, not native. Another definition of it is: “strikingly, excitingly, or mysteriously different or unusual”. This adjective has always been a divisive term, to indicate the ‘other’ from the native. Although usually used as a compliment from the native to the ‘other’,  the word ‘exotic’ has a loaded history behind it and the ‘other’ never really feels comfortable when being described as ‘exotic’. I question my relationship with the word exotic and how the word is continued to be used today to describe not only fruit and plants, but actual people, including myself. This is why my drive to create Paradise Exotica was so strong. Exoticism is something I have experienced first hand and continue to see happening to my family and my culture. To be able to transform a space that can portray the irony, toxicity, and harm the Exoticist gaze has through sight, smell, touch, and sound will be satisfying and provide a sense of relief. 

A lot of fetishization of Asian culture has to do with Exoticism and Orientalism, how Exoticist and Orientalist paintings depicted cultures of the East. When one hears the word ‘fetish’, there is usually a sexual connotation associated with it. In today’s context, most people understand ‘fetish’ as a sexual fantasy or obsession. There are ideas of perversion, fixation, and infatuation that surround the word. A fetish is to be fixated on something to the point where it's the only thing that fills your mind and drives your actions. Merriam Webster defines ‘fetish’ as: an object of irrational reverence or obsessive devotion. This could be anything living or non-living. It could be an idea or a philosophy of life, it could be a fixation on a specific flower or food, it could even be the way someone combs their hair. A ‘fetish’ is simply a more extreme version of an obsession, it is a devotion to something. In the case of my art, I am specifically looking at commodity fetishism and cultural fetishism. Commodity fetishism is the fixation to commodities, or articles of trade (which is basically any object that is created to be sold). This could be an obsession with a material, a shape, or a specific object such as a spoon or pearl necklace. These obsessions can be in different forms, whether that just be wanting to see them at all times by hanging them up on a wall, or needing to find a use for them in all your daily activities. It is to put these common objects on a pedestal, giving them a different function other than the one assigned to them, it becomes an object of worship and praise. 

Cultural fetishism is to have an infatuation with a specific culture or country. This could also be a fetish for objects and traditions of that culture, but cultural fetishism includes a fetish for humans as well. One of the most known cultural fetishes being the ‘Asian fetish’. This is fetish where a non-Asian person (usually a Western man) has an obsession/fixation on Asian people (usually Asian women). The person with the Asian fetish will only date people who are/look Asian. Many things in Asian culture tend to become fetishized and sexualized due to the large amounts of Western men who have fixations on Asian women. In my practice I combine the ideas of commodity fetishism and cultural fetishism (specifically Filipino culture)  in order to confront the modern Orientalist gaze and question the unjust representations of Asian culture in the Western world that these fetishes stem from. 

As someone who is half Asian and half white/Western, I have a complicated relationship with where I come from and where I stand as a person who does not technically have a home. My two sides are supposed to hate each other, I am one part colonized, and one part colonizer. When I am with my American family, my siblings and I stand out, some people asking us who we are related to and why we are there (at my American grandfather's funeral for instance). I have been confused as a worker at an event or a maid when people see me with my blonde haired, blue eyed grandparents. Yet, when I am with my Filipino family (which is massive, I have 12 aunts and uncles and 67 cousins) we also stick out. You can pinpoint us at any family gathering. We can not/are too uncomfortable to speak Tagalog or Visaya as well. My mother has said to me, “I didn’t teach you tagalog since it wasn’t trendy”. My Filipino family can all speak English fluently, so we can all communicate and keep in touch, but we have never assimilated or ‘fit in’. I feel as if I am always floating in this weird middle ground of being American or being Pinay. My perspective of each side of myself is warped and twisted together, never really knowing where my thoughts stem from. The one thing I am able to label myself as without issue is “mestiza”. 

“Mestiza/mestizo” are terms derived from the Spanish language to describe someone who is of mixed ethnicity, in this case Filipino mixed with some sort of foreign Western blood. It was first used to describe Filipinos mixed with Spanish blood when the Spanish colonized the Philippines. Later on it became a term to describe anyone mixed with white blood. I have been called mestiza (the feminine version of mestizo). In the Philippines, being called Mestiza is considered a compliment, many have told me I am so lucky and fortunate to look ‘mestiza’. My Filipina mother has also been called ‘mestiza’ since she has pale skin, she has taken a lot of pride in that. It is a colorist term used to compliment those who have happened to be born with light skin.

If you look at every Filipino celebrity, they tend to be only mestiza or meztiso. If you google mestiza, a common question is“how to get the mestiza look?”. It is a coveted look and considered a trait one must have to be considered desirable. I have a difficult relationship with this word since it is the only label I have been able to identify with as someone who has never been able to identify where they come from, but knows how detrimental and toxic it is. This word encompasses the way I feel about where I am from, it is confusing and hard to define, as is portrayed in my piece Mestiza.  

I treat my studio as a sanctuary where I visit over and over again as a ritual I devote to my art. A safe space I come to consistently to create and to explore these themes of Orientalism, Exoticism, fetishization, and my roots. What I associate with the term ‘worship’ is: shrine, sanctuary, praise, adoration, repetition, and devotion. These are all things I incorporate into my artistic practice. I’ve noticed most of my pieces have repetition and ritual in the process of making. Whether that be filling and releasing the same mold over and over again, rolling hundreds of magazine pages and weaving them over and over, visiting my shrine as a ritual again and again. Creating art is a healing ritual for me, the physical making aiding in psychological or spiritual. The themes that run throughout my art relate to worship and praise, especially when it comes to commodity and cultural fetishism. The dictionary definition of worship is : “reverent honor and homage paid to God or a sacred personage, or to any object regarded as sacred”. I am interested in how objects become sacred, how they become worthy of praise and adoration. How an object, a person, or a culture can lose its original meaning/purpose and become a god-like figure that is almost prayed to and honored. Why are all the objects I have been working with in my pieces hold different or higher power than what was originally assigned to them?

In order to support my thesis, I have had to heavily rely on the writings of Edward Said, the first person to really break down the ideas of Orientalism and how it has always been used as a tool of oppression towards the non-West. This takes me back to the painting The Snake Charmer by Jean Leon Gerome from 1880. In this painting, Gerome depicts a naked boy "charming a snake" in front of a group of men. He depicts them in a completely fetishized and exotified way, unrealistically representing a culture for a Western audience to consume. The Western world would devour these Orientalist paintings in order to feel more "worldly" or cultured. These dramatized scenes had a strong lasting effect on how the West saw the rest of the world, they purposely depicted cultures as less than or "primitive". These notions/stigmas thrive today and motivate me to create my current work. I am interested in the Orientalism and Exoticism we see today in the media and art. Looking back at old Orientalist paintings I see that depictions of cultures in the Global South have not really changed, we are still seen as "primitive" and "exotic". Certain aspects of our culture are fetishized and glorified whereas other parts are rejected. Especially in today’s climate, with the COVID-19 spreading all over the Global North, xenophobia towards the Asian population in America is showing its true colors. People have not been afraid to voice their racist thoughts publicly or even physically, recently a few fellow NewSchool students were assaulted on 14th street and a few people have been stabbed. The Global North has always thought of us (and the rest of the Global South basically) as incapable of taking care of ourselves, that they need to intervene and take control and the way the media is covering the coronavirus is not helping either. Fox news blatantly said China was an uncivilized infected viral place where they ate virus infected bat soup, even though China has been handling this situation much better than the US and at the moment, the US has the most Covid-19 cases in the world. Asia has always been a place the Western world has seen as dirty, uneducated, and savage. That the Eastern way of life is wrong and the right way is the Western way. The way the media chooses to represent East Asian countries confirms to us that the Orientalist gaze still in fact exists today and is thriving. 

 I also think about how Filipinos are the second largest Asian population in the United States, but no one seems to know anything about us. Our food and art has never become mainstream, and we are never represented in the media justly. Is it because the US bought the Philippines for just 20 million dollars and continued to colonize us from 1898 to 1946? Do they not want people to know? Yet, at the same time, the Asian fetish is flourishing in America. Americans choose to muddle all Asians together, including their traditions and cultural objects, and exoticize them. Due to Orientalist and Exoticist paintings/images, they believe Asians will do as they command. It is easy for the Global North to pick and choose what they want to see and hear from us, especially when they have had power over the Philippines for so many years ( and  the Philippines continues to praise them). I create pieces that explore these concepts. I wonder why a rice farmer’s hat is seen as exotic and intricate and beautiful when it is simply a hat? Why am I told my dirty bamboo broom is so intricate and delicate? Why am I told that my culture is so interesting and cute? Why are certain objects so worthy or Western adoration and consumption? My work is exploring modern Orientalism in order to dissect, understand, then confront. I am also dissecting my relationship with both my cultures, one side being part of the colonizers and one being part of the colonized. My two sides are supposed to hate each other, one inflicted years of pain and injustice against the other. I tend to find myself floating in between the two, not really knowing where I lie as a person. My art, and my research is further clarifying this for me, teaching me how I can be okay with my two sides coming together to create a new space for my body to stand. 

Other pieces that have aided my making process are Postcolonialism by Robert Young, and Reading National Geographic: An Intersection of Gazes by Catherine Lutz and Jane Lou Collins. These have helped me the most in clarifying post colonial and orientalist theory and how I can apply it to my work and other modern examples of Orientalism. Filipino history pre and post colonization has also been very inspiring and informative. Unfortunately, a lot of Filipino history pre-colonization has been erased and is hard to access. Today, many artists, writers, archivists, historians and more are trying to reclaim that history so it will not be lost forever. Our origins are becoming lost and it is important to me that I try to reclaim it in some way through my art. I want to educate myself to not only be more understanding of my culture but also to make sure I am being responsible with the representations of my culture in my art as well. I did not grow up taking classes on Filipino history and I have never lived there for longer than a couple months and I do not want to further impoverish the reality of the Philippines and Filipino representation because I did not do my research. 

Ultimately, I create art in order to ground myself  as well as to dissect and confront the modern Orientalist gaze. I aim to be able to understand where I stand as a person in the diaspora, or be okay with not necessarily lying anywhere. I constantly ask: How/Why are certain cultural (Filipino) objects fetishized in the Western world? How is this used as a tool to perpetuate the Orientalist gaze today? and How does the Orientalist gaze continue to be perpetuated? Going forward, I plan to continue to create work responding to these questions. These questions and ideas are important to me personally and drive me not only in my art practice but my daily life. The Orientalist gaze has always been perpetuated through Westerners going to the non-West and bringing back ‘knowledge’ about wherever they went. National Geographic as a magazine was definitely a major tool used to bolster the Orientalist mindset and keep it alive. I have seen the Orientalist gaze eternalized through travel Instagrams, Pinterest, and Facebook today and how toxic it is to cultures of the global South. The unrealistic, curated images of the Philippines that are fed to Western consumers creates false representations of my country and its people. The Western audience forms their own representations and expectations of us, which is usually that we are incapable of taking care of ourselves and need white Western people to come save us. The Orientalist gaze is a powerful tool to keep the Global South oppressed and the Global North in power. I wonder how can I flip this narrative through my art?












Bibliography:

  • Said, Edward W. Orientalism. Brantford, Ont.: W. Ross MacDonald School, Resource Services Library, 2006.

  • Lutz, Catherine, and Jane Lou Collins. Reading National Geographic. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1993.

  • Reinhardt, Mark, Holly Edwards, and Erina Duganne. Beautiful Suffering: Photography and the Traffic in Pain. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago etc, 2007.

  • Young, Robert J. C. Postcolonialism. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010.

  • Marx, Karl. “Chapter 1, Section 4: THE FETISHISM OF COMMODITIES AND THE SECRET THEREOF.” Capital, vol. 1, Progress Publishers, Moscow, USSR, 1887.

  •  Gonzalez, Vernadette Vicuña. “Headhunter Itineraries: The Philippines as America's Dream Jungle.” The Global South, vol. 3, no. 2, 2009, pp. 144–172. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/10.2979/gso.2009.3.2.144. Accessed 26 Mar. 2020.

  • Caulin, Valerie. “How a Baby Jesus Doll Converted the Philippines to Catholicism.” Culture Trip, The Culture Trip, 15 Nov. 2017, theculturetrip.com/asia/philippines/articles/how-a-baby-jesus-converted-the-philippines-to-catholicism/.

  • Schlegel, G. "Hennins or Conical Lady's Hats in Asia, China and Europe." T'oung Pao 3, no. 4 (1892): 422-29. http://www.jstor.org.libproxy.newschool.edu/stable/4524954.