GAPIMNY

by Ken Takeuchi

Hiroki Otsuka is a Japanese artist whose manga-style artwork is currently generating a sensation in Williamsburg, Brooklyn.  Before his success, he struggled to survive as a gay man in Tokyo, where he began his journey as an ero-manga* artist in 1992.  Ken Takeuchi paints a portrait of Hiroki Otsuka, on the verge of success.

*erotic manga

Stay Gold Gallery was once again the host of Hiroki Otsuka’s latest duo exhibition, “Pleasure Little Treasure”.  As I arrive at the gallery, Hiroki’s posse are hanging out in front as usual; he garners the highest respect from his fellow Japanese hipsters in New York.  As I step into the crowded gallery, I feel slightly disoriented by the progress his work has made in the last year.

The gallery is hot and humid.  The crowd consists of the usual self-infatuated Williamsburg artists and trust fund kids.  While the scent of 420 lightly colors the sultry air, a stunning DJ Ruby Red is spinning her classic deep house sprinkled with acid-jazz and ethnic percussions.  Next to her DJ station, her 10 ft. pet python, Cron, dozes off coolly in a pet carrier.  A classic gallery opening in Billburg!

Having seen his first show last year, I already know of Hiroki’s prowess in his signature ero manga style.  His keen sense of perspective makes the audience feel like not only voyeurs, but also participants in his dynamic art.  As such, Hiroki directly challenges his audience, leaving them with a sense of being haunted by his images.

Hiroki was born in Shiga, Japan in 1974.  He began his journey as an artist while studying at Tokyo Designer Institute.

“Yes, it all began with ero manga.  I could only find work in that particular field when I started my career at 18.  As I delved into ero manga, its pop and comic style fascinated me.  But after spending 10 years working on comics, I was beginning to question whether I could build a career around it.

“I was watching a lot of French independent films at the time and discovered that human fear is deeply bound up with one’s sexuality.  I realized this theme was what I wanted to explore through my art.  I wanted to capture dark impulses and desires within myself as sharply as they were portrayed in literature.  So I often use sexual themes in order to visually challenge one’s subconscious fear.”

Living in Tokyo as a gay man was not easy.  As many ex-pat Japanese LGBTs can attest, he could not stand the lack of tolerance against gays in Japan.

“Gay life in Japan is conservative, even in Tokyo.  Although I was working as a freelance illustrator for ero manga publishers, I couldn’t come out at work!  I was only out to my friends and assistants, but I couldn’t come out to the editors.  It really made me feel physically uncomfortable hiding my sexuality all the time.  And Tokyo is such a funny city, where you can only be openly gay in Shinjuku District 2, the West Village of Tokyo.  These days the media turns its spotlight on gays as entertainment, but there are still quite a few people who don’t tolerate homosexuality.  The question is how to change that and further gay rights.”

Feeling boxed in and unable to breathe, Hiroki escaped to San Francisco in 2001, where a chance encounter with a portrait artist in Napa Valley triggered a catalytic change in his life.

“When I visited Napa Valley, I was considering quitting ero manga all together.  While at some vineyard, I happened to meet an old artist doing portraits.  He had worked as an assistant in Snoopy cartoons years ago, and now seemed very happy doing just portraits.  When he told me to come visit him again, it made me tear up seeing how happy he was doing his own art.  I knew I didn’t want to continue working on ero manga forever, and he made me realize the freedom of living as an artist.”

“Around the same time, my friend and I visited New York for the first time.  I was shocked to meet so many artists simply by staying at a hostel!  It was the last straw, and that’s when I decided to move here to pursue art.”

Much of Hiroki’s work features young girls who are just coming into their sexualities.  Some of his pieces are very shocking in the glossy style of ero manga, showing them in explicit sexual acts, in brilliant Technicolor.  Others show distorted images of the human body, with displaced sexual organs and limbs twisting into many different forms.

Taking his talent in manga further into art, he began to experiment by enlarging single frames from his manga onto large canvases, sometimes including onomatopoetic characters in Japanese like “Boom” and “Swoosh” as a design element.

As a viewer, the result is an onslaught of singular images and impressions that the viewer has difficulty comprehending at first.  When one takes in the scene a few seconds later, one is shocked to see such a graphic and sometimes violent depiction of ourselves.

“I often draw teenage girls.  I suppose it is part of my personality on deeper level…Sexuality is such a mystery to gay kids, you know.  Even though they have very feminine emotional side, they are still boys in appearance.  Having grown up like a pendulum between both sexes, it has always made me reflect deeply on my own emotion and sexuality.  So, in a way, I feel female characters help me express myself.”

Living in New York is a challenge.  Hiroki shared what he learned from his experience of surviving in the city.

“After moving here, I’ve discovered that I have my own voice, and ability to speak out.  Until now, I was being an isolated manga artist, encoding my mind on paper in closed world.  I did not have many chances to speak out and hear my own voice.  Even when I was in San Francisco, I could not figure out who I was, let alone what I wanted to pursue in my life.

“But in New York, I realized I have to follow my gut instinct, otherwise the city will devour you.  Unless you face up to your responsibilities, you end up not meeting any challenges, and stop growing.  It’s such a hard and tough place to live, but I can become who I want to be here, and use my own voice – sometimes just to say no.  There’s so much stress, but it also enables me to change myself for the better.  This is definitely the place where I can be ambitious!”

“Art is an act of self healing”, Hiroki commented.  “It’s a medium where I can express my sorrows.  I love crying while watching sad movies, and feeling cleansed afterwards.  I believe such experience helps heal ourselves.  Emotions shift all the time, like when we scheme and feel guilt subconsciously.  But when you become an adult, you realize these emotions all stem from your childhood fears.

“So my current art focuses on my own fears.   Before beginning each painting, I always take a moment to meditate.  In order to focus all my energy into the piece, it’s important to calm myself first.”

With Williamsburg’s huge community of artists, there are many promising and cutting-edge artists showing their best work everyday.  As I leave the gallery, I feel bittersweet to have learned of the challenges Hiroki Otsuka faced to get here, and seeing him rising up through the tough Williamsburg arts community, forever changing, and continuing his journey of self-discovery.

“My art will continue to change as I change.  You can only keep challenging yourself at it, or choose to stagnate by being commercial…All my life experience since coming here is now seeping out in my work, and in a way, it’s my shield by sharing my life experiences in order to understand my soul.”

Hiroki Otsuka’s website: www.hirokiotsuka.com
Stay Gold Gallery: www.staygoldgallery.com

by Alain Deng

Plane ticket? Check. Dazzling outfits? Check. Perfect hand-waving technique? Check.

In May, I packed my bags and headed west to the great, beautiful, diverse city of Oakland, California, to compete in the inaugural Mr. Hyphen Pageant.  Yes, you heard me right.  A male pageant!  Tongue firmly in cheek, the event was sponsored by Hyphen Magazine, a grassroots publication on issues of interest to the Asian American community.

The publishers of Mr. Hyphen wanted to create an event “which recognizes the importance of arts and activist organizations in the Asian American community. [An event] that spotlights some of the great work they do, and some of the great people who do it. It also involves men strutting the stage in their jimmies, one of whom will win a rhinestone belt. Yes, friends, tonight, we’ll be exploding Asian America’s best-kept secret: our men, who save the world without taking themselves too seriously – who quick-change from suit to spandex and make it all look good.”

How’s that for setting expectations?

Walking into the Oakland Asian Cultural Center the night of the event, I could feel the nerves building. Since this was the first ever Mr. Hyphen competition, I had no idea what to expect. Despite missing the one brief rehearsal and informational meeting, the producers laid out the event in a simple format so all participants could focus on their performance, not logistics. As the crowds grew inside the auditorium, and last-minute sound checks and fittings performed, the nerves faded away to excitement. This would turn out to be an amazingly fun ride.

The show opened on a hip, easygoing vibe with each contestant introducing himself and the organization he represented. Navigating the barren stage and hitting my mark perfectly, I announced my arrival and gave a big shout out to GAPIMNY. The other contestants represented a diverse group of organizations: Mario “Nomi” Demira from the Filipino Community Center, James Espinas from the Vietnamese Artist Collective, Kevin Liao from the Chinatown Community Development Center, Robin Sukhadia from Project Ahimsa, and Brian Wang from the Asian American Theater Company.

The pageant went full-throttle after the intros with the talent segment of the competition. Singer-songwriters, performance monologues, rock out anthems, emceeing, and multimedia musical exhibitions were all in the offing. Yet no “This is the Moment”? The horror! After a brief intermission, the show continued.

With a fashion show! Who doesn’t love a fashion show? Local designers J9/D-Force and Kimiko Fisika outfitted the guys with their innovative, yet comfortable threads. Not to be outdone, we each then had the freedom to select our own outfit for the infamous “sleepwear” round. Some skin never hurts to drive the (mostly female) audience into a frenzy.

As no pageant would be complete without the obligatory interview segment, Mr. Hyphen must also be able to think on his toes and articulate a vision for his reign. All of the contestants rose to the challenge and mixed personal, political, and inspirational messages beyond just expressing a wish for “world peace.”

In the end, I didn’t win. Robin Sukhadia was crowned the inaugural Mr. Hyphen. Yet the experience was unlike any other I have had at an event run by and for the API community. Despite being the only contestant representing the East Coast (though I’m originally from the Bay Area), I quickly won over the audience and gained my very own cheering section. The beauty pageant/fashion show phenomenon in the API community also took a twisting by featuring men competing for the title, the belt, and the crown, turning what could have been a staid concept into something a bit subversive. It should definitely be noted that lots of straight guys were there too, supporting their brothers, the organizations they represented, and Hyphen Magazine.

Be sure to check out coverage of Mr. Hyphen in an upcoming issue of Hyphen Magazine.

By Hentyle Yapp

In Covering: The Hidden Assault on Our Civil Rights, Kenji Yoshino draws upon personal storytelling, legal casework, and psychoanalytic, sexology and queer theories to reveal complexities in our current state of civil rights.  Yoshino puts forth that although it is tolerable by law to be different (in ways one cannot control like skin pigment, sexual preference, or gender identity), it is not completely acceptable to perform this difference.  Therefore, covering becomes the normative mode of existence.

Yoshino describes covering through legal casework, while also drawing from his experience as a gay male who grew up Japanese and American.  His use of personal narrative to capture how covering invades our daily psyches and existences is vivid, especially as they relate to a particular East Asian experience.  He uses accessible language and contextualizes legal terminology and precedents in order to maintain a scholarly discussion with a mass appeal.  But while Yoshino provides insight into the trend of covering within civil rights, he fails to analyze how power is situated and perpetuated by the US, law and institutions.

Unlike passing, which involves the invisibility of a trait, covering focuses on downplaying a characteristic in order to assimilate into the mainstream.  Within the context of the U.S., the norms of the white, heterosexual, Christian, non-immigrant, masculine, middle-class and non-disabled dominate, demanding individuals who do not fit into these constructs to diminish one’s “undesirable” identity traits.  Yoshino’s theoretical discussion primarily focuses on covering in three areas: gay, racial, and sex-based.

He cites a variety of moments when individuals have covered, ranging from popular culture to legal casework.  Famous actors changed their names to appear less “ethnic” (from Ramon Estevez to Martin Sheen, Krishna Bhanji to Ben Kingsley, and Issur Danielovitch Demsky to Kirk Douglas).  Margaret Thatcher utilized a voice coach to lower the pitch of her voice.  Renee Rogers lost her job at American Airlines because her hairstyle in cornrows did not coincide with work policy because according to the courts, hairstyle (unlike skin color) is mutable.

Yoshino describes how covering seems to pervade institutional practices, as well as the private citizenry.  The law protects those who are different, but not those who refuse to cover their difference.  When people lose jobs not because they are queer, but because they did not cover their sexuality, these demands preclude them from taking certain career paths.  When policies are instituted in order to regulate a normative culture of whiteness in the workplace by restricting dress, speech, hairstyles, etc., the norm of covering dictates our behavior and personalities.

Another point that Yoshino stresses is the universality of covering.  According to him, citizens, law and culture must expand their understanding of covering beyond rights-based identity factors (including but not limited to sexuality, ability, gender, and race), to other forms of personality and expression.  For example, Yoshino posits that we all universally suffer from covering demands, because of not only identity but also entities like depression, behaviors, desires, etc..  Drawing upon the work of psychoanalyst D.W. Winnicott, Yoshino hopes to maximize a symbiotic relationship between one’s “true self,” one’s authentic nature, and the “false self,” which mediates the “true self” within the world.  Covering pervades law, work policies, interpersonal connections and even our sex lives; therefore, Yoshino proposes changes in both law and many other forms of daily culture and living.

The author complicates and questions the limits of law.  He stresses that dialogue needs to occur not only in legal institutions, but also within the private citizenry.  In particular, during legal cases involving covering, Yoshino proposes that the state and other institutions discuss their rationale for certain policies in order to hold them accountable for their demands.  This model of dialogue can permeate daily interactions, as he hopes that conversations about inequity and oppression can become part of larger consciousness.

I appreciate this attempt to depend upon culture, as well as law, to achieve social change, but his thinking raises many questions.  First and foremost, Yoshino calls for the expression of the authentic self, but does such a self even exist?  How does one know if one’s ideal of the authentic self comes from within or is formulated by societal, cultural and historical factors?  How do we discover and know what is authentic?

Second, is there such a thing as universal struggle?  We all possess our own unique paths in life, but depending on geographic location, we are confronted with specific demands and struggles.  Yoshino’s idea of universal struggle is limited to the US, but how does his model of the authentic and universal apply within an international context?  Furthermore, how does expressing the authentic self look in a world where structures of power, such as the US government and capitalism, create inequities where people cannot necessarily express their authentic selves?

As Yoshino pushes for rights-based organizing that concentrates less on identity but more on the accommodation of universal rights, he ultimately relies on expanding rights in order to achieve equality.  But is that solution enough?  Why only expand rights?  What about questioning the institutions that impose these demands upon us? Ultimately, Yoshino’s argument to expand law to accommodate for universal rights is remedial, not revolutionary.  Instead of critiquing the institutions, like capitalism, consumerism, the state, and even law itself, that demand us to cover, he focuses on expanding rights in order to deal with inequality.  His analysis merely focuses on remedying symptoms, not challenging and preventing systems that create these problematic symptoms.

In addition, Yoshino separates sexuality, race and gender in his discussion of covering.  I can understand, for the convenience of argumentation, to talk about each identity factor individually, but can a single-issue discussion of difference give justice to the multiplicity of human struggles?  While he proposes that our authentic selves are comprised of multiple identities, he does not explicitly bring out this idea.  In one point in the book, Yoshino realizes that he can actually demand covering of some of his female law students, highlighting how in one context he may be asked to cover as a queer API male, but in another, he benefits from male privilege.  Yoshino offers only a glimpse into these complex issues.

Although Yoshino hopes to expand discourse outside of law, he ultimately tries to work within the system in order to achieve change.  As Audre Lorde declares, “The master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house.”  Utilizing the master’s tools of law can possibly change the demands of covering; however, even as rights are expanded, those demands will still be generated in different ways.  Although I feel this activism is needed, working outside of these systems is needed in order to push for equality that reaches into the realm of international/global issues.

Overall, Yoshino’s application of the idea of covering is crucial in looking at civil rights; however, this framework in relationship to universality and social change is limited.  Kenji Yoshino represents a specific voice in queer API public discourse, and his work will be instrumental in shaping future policies on rights-based work.  However, it does not fully engage multi-issue politics, and his solutions are more remedial than revolutionary.

By the Rev. Patrick S. Cheng

This article is an edited version of a sermon that Reverend Cheng gave at the Metropolitan Community Church of Hartford on January 29, 2006. The sermon is based on Deuteronomy 18:15-20 and Mark 1:21-28 in the Christian Bible.

I’ve been preaching on the Chinese New Year for a number of years now from the perspective of an openly gay Asian American minister, and I’ve noticed that we’re going through a pretty interesting three-year cycle. Last year was the Year of the Cock, which I thought was particularly appropriate for gay men, for obvious reasons.

This year is the Year of the Dog, which, again, I think is appropriate for gay men, since we all know that men are dogs. Am I wrong? We men are loyal companions, but we’ll hump a good-looking leg or fire hydrant the first chance we get. And next year will be the Year of the Pig. Need I say more? I can’t wait to write that sermon. Who says the Lunar calendar isn’t queer?

Seriously, this is your year if you were born in 1994, 1982, 1970, 1958, 1946, or 1934.  People born in this year have a giving, compassionate personality who offer kind words of support and advice to their families and friends.  Famous dogs include Bill Clinton and Jennifer Lopez, so you are in good company.

One of my best memories of growing up in the San Francisco Bay Area was watching the Chinese New Year parade. Our family would go to Chinatown at night and watch the parade make its way down Grant Avenue. We would munch on candied coconut strips and other sweet snacks while watching the giant dragon, the firecrackers, and the lion dancers, all of which were intended to ward off evil spirits for the coming year.

Legend has it that the Chinese New Year festival was founded thousands of years ago by a village that was terrorized by an evil spirit that just wouldn’t leave. The villagers discovered that the spirit was afraid of loud noises, bright lights, and the color red. So they banged their drums and gongs, burned bamboo sticks that crackled like firecrackers, and hung up red lanterns throughout the village. As a result, the villagers triumphed, and the tradition stuck!

In the gospel reading, we encounter a similar story about Jesus chasing away an evil spirit that just won’t leave. Jesus sees a person in the synagogue who is possessed

by an “unclean spirit” (which basically means demon or evil spirit in the Greek). The demon resists Jesus when it meets him. It pushes Jesus away by crying out “What do you have to do with us . . . Have you come to destroy us?” Jesus, full of authority, orders it to be silent and to leave the possessed person. The spirit is forced to obey, convulsing the person and crying out with a loud voice. Like the Chinese villagers with the gongs and drums, bamboo sticks, and red lanterns, Jesus scares away the spirit and triumphs in the

end.

Clearly this is an important story for the author of the second gospel. In fact, this is the very first action that Jesus performs in Mark’s gospel after the calling of his disciples. The exorcism confirms that Jesus is the “one having authority” from God and is not just a mere interpreter of scripture, as the scribes were (or us preachers for that matter). It establishes Jesus as the authentic bearer of God’s word, as we hear in the first reading from Deuteronomy.

What does this mean for us today, as LGBT people in the 21st century who are well educated and don’t believe in silly things like evil spirits and exorcisms? Let’s face it, most of us look down on these kinds of stories. We believe in a rational, scientific universe, one in which evil spirits and demons don’t exist. Even if we do believe in these forces, we are unlikely to talk about them for fear of others making fun of us.

Furthermore, a lot of us have been hurt or damaged by talk of evil or unclean spirits. It brings up uncomfortable images of hypocritical ex-gay ministries and televangelists who claim that we just need to turn to Jesus, and we will be made straight. Well, I don’t know about you, but I’ve been turning to Jesus for a pretty long time, and I’m still queer as a three dollar bill! So how do we make sense of the gospel?

For one thing, today’s reading is actually a very queer text. In it, Jesus is seen as a shaman, a spiritual leader who has powers to heal others by communicating with the Spirit world. Throughout history, a strong connection has existed between shamanism and queer or gender variant people. This is because shamans, like queer people, have particular talents for crossing multiple worlds and boundaries, whether it’s the boundary between the male and female worlds, or the boundary between the human and spirit worlds.

The Native American tradition, for example, has embraced and honored the tradition of queer shamans. They are called “Two Spirit” people because they bring together male and female as well as body and spirit. There are East Asian shamans as well. The patron saint of queer people in China is Qu Yuan, who was a famous poet and gay shaman who brought together the masculine and feminine energies of yin and yang.1

But, more importantly, I think that today’s gospel about Jesus and the unclean spirit speaks deeply to those of us as LGBT people of faith. We may think that we no longer have any issues once we’ve come out of the closet, but in fact that’s just the beginning of the healing process. The truth is that many of us are still possessed by unclean spirits, even if we are openly and proudly queer. What are some of our modern-day demons?

• Self-Hate. We continue to suffer from self-hatred about the fact that we are gender variant or love people of the same sex. We reject the gift of queerness that God has bestowed upon us, a gift that shows the world how truly unlimited and promiscuous God’s love can be.

• Shame. We harbor shame with respect to our bodies and sexualities in all of their amazing diversity. We fail to see that we are called to celebrate flesh, for through the incarnation God, too, became flesh in the person of Jesus Christ.

• Doubt. We doubt that God has given each of us spiritual gifts and talents and the ability to access the spiritual truth ourselves. We are reluctant to embrace God through multiple spiritual paths — whether Christian, Buddhist, or Wicca.

• Fear. We are afraid of claiming our rightful position as beloved children of God. We are terrified of God’s judgment, when what we need the most is to be merciful to ourselves.

These unclean spirits of self-hate, shame, doubt, and fear hold us back from the full potential that God has intended for us even before we were born. We are sometimes so possessed by these spirits that we resist the radically healing love of Jesus Christ, even when we encounter it face to face.

In fact, like the person who was possessed by the unclean spirit, we often resist this love when we need it the most. I know this in my own life with Michael. Often when I feel the most vulnerable or exposed, I will end up pushing him away, when what I need the most is a big hug.

My challenge to you, as we enter the Year of the Dog, is to reflect on what demons you might bring into this gathering place. What is your reaction when you come face to face with the radically healing love of Jesus Christ, a love that heals all self-hate, shame, doubt, and fear? Do you resist it? Do you challenge it by crying out “What have you to do with us . . . . Have you come to destroy us”? Or do you simply surrender, open ourself up to healing, and make yourself available for a great big hug?

It might not be your style to celebrate the Chinese New Year by beating drums and gongs, lighting firecrackers, or decorating your windows and doors with red lanterns. But you can certainly celebrate the Good News, right here and right now, by making a joyous noise in praise of God, by setting off the radically healing love of Jesus Christ, and by allowing the red flames of the Holy Spirit to touch your hearts. Happy New Year! Amen.