Image: Photo of Chen Lok Lee’s watercolor in the home of a patron in Philadelphia, PA.
Last month, I heard from a Philadelphia-area musician who reached out to me to share a really interesting story.
He and his wife own two my father’s paintings, one of which is featured in this image.
He met my father at a house party that my father’s student threw to honor him, and to introduce him to his friends and colleagues.
This is what he said about my father:
“Chen was so humble, I’ve long thought humility and artistry to be proportional. He brought a bunch of his paintings, two of which my wife (a wonderful oboist and artist) and I bought. They make up a part of our small but highly loved art collection! I attach a photo of Chen’s watercolor still life as it hangs in our home. I look at it every day.”
So glad he reached out to me because I had never seen this watercolor before. I hope to get more of my father’s art into the homes and public locations where it will be seen, loved and appreciated.
Image: Different versions of Chen Lok Lee’s signature chop mark. He used this scrap paper to practice his chop so that when he put it on his work that it was well-inked and ready to serve as his final approval that the piece was complete.
Happy Asian/Pacific American Heritage Month!
It’s critical that we work to not only celebrate the accomplishments of our Asian American and Pacific Islander ancestors, but to also preserve their contributions to society.
This weekend, I learned how to make archive folios to keep my father’s work in the best condition possible. A goal of this legacy project is to preserve and share the work and philosophy of Chen Lok Lee with aspiring young AAPI, immigrant and artists of color so that they can see themselves in his story, and feel inspired to keep creating art.
I wrote a grant this week to help support the costs of the archival and preservation process. Crossing fingers that we get the support!
In times of deep sadness and distress, it can be hard to find moments of happiness or relief. I was told that every spring, my father would go into a period of quietness and mild depression. We don’t really know why, but assume it was because he was thinking about and feeling all that he left behind when he was forced to leave his home as a young man.
As a society, we aren’t great at holding space for grief, loss and trauma. The arts, however, are a way to express and work through difficult emotions and trying times using creativity. Since launching this project, I have come to hold a much deeper appreciation for the arts world as a holder of all emotion.
I don’t know what my father was processing when he painted this gorgeous watercolor, but I see and feel joy, power and freedom. I hope he was feeling that too.
Grateful that he left it for me to find in his collection.
Thank you to Wendy’s Frame Shop in South Philly for the beautiful frame job.
IMAGE: Chen Lok Lee on his drive out to Albuquerque, New Mexico. This may have been the only time in his life when he wore sunglasses.
GO WEST.
That was the direction Chen Lok Lee took when he was awarded a Ford Foundation Fellowship to study at the Tamarind Institute in Albuquerque, New Mexico in 1973.
He and my mom drove out west and started their married life together there. Even though Loving v. Virginia was ruled in 1967, my parents were still unable to find someone to marry them in Pennsylvania before they left on their journey. So they went out to New Mexico and eloped.
While at Tamarind, my father collaborated with artists including Frederick Hammersley (Image 2/4: Seems, 1973 (May 10 – 18)) and Janet Lippincott (Image 4/4). My father was the printer on both of these pieces. ‘Seems’ is currently in the archives at the New Mexico Museum of Art, as gifted by Frederick Hammersley. Both lithographs are currently in the Chen Lok Lee collection that we are organizing.
Can’t wait to GO WEST to visit Tamarind Institute myself as soon as COVID is more under control.
Image: Seems, Frederick Hammersly, artist. Chen Lok Lee, Printer.
Image: Chen Lok Lee, on the drive out to the Southwest (wild to think that I could have been born in New Mexico!).
Image: Janet Lippincott, artist. Chen Lok Lee, Printer.
In an interview in 1991 and accompanying exhibit produced by the Painted Bride Art Center, my father talked about how he would use his training in oil painting, watercolor and lithography to take turns in expressing the same subject matter, or to tell the same story.
Featured: Chen Lok Lee’s springtime blooms in both lithograph and Chinese watercolor medium.
Words cannot describe the feeling of relief I have knowing that my father’s work is being appropriately packed and wrapped for safe keeping and preservation.
Each fold of the archival, acid-free paper around the edges of the prints brought me a sense of cathartic relief.
Plus, my skills at wrapping Christmas presents totally came in handy.
Grateful for Sara Havekotte, PAFA graduate and now Wexler Gallery employee, and her phenomenal attention to detail and delicate touch. We even rescued a watercolor today from a very precarious situation.
Left: Portrait II, Chen Lok Lee, lithograph. Right: Untitled, Chen Lok Lee, lithrograph, variable edition.
Since NPR interviewed me this week about mixed race Asian Americans and pushing the boundaries around what it means to be Asian in America, I’ve had a lot of time to think about what it means for me in this very climate of extreme anti-Asian racism and hate.
Where I landed was influenced by what I noticed in my father’s work that we pulled out in the studio today. My eyes have lately been drawn to contrast – looking at and fixating on differences, picking up on details and slight distinctions in colors. In these two sets of variable edition lithographs, we can see how my father’s experimentation using color slightly/dramatically changes the presentation of the same concept. These nuances create a beautifully different, but same piece. There is an element of harmony within the set, even though they are slightly different.
As a biracial person, one might presume I have lived a life of internal contrast. I have a conflict inside of me that is an expression of the tension that exists in our country today. If I can manage the contrast within myself and learn to live at peace with all of the pieces of me, sometimes in contrast with each other, then I am sure that others in this country can learn to do the same as it relates to racial tension and hate. It takes work, an ability to be self-aware, and a desire for harmony and collaboration. And love, lots of love.
Romana looks on at the work ahead of them for the day, and is grateful for the beautiful, sunlit space at the Asian Arts Initiative.
Sara, Romana’s project assistant most recently worked at the Brandywine Workshop, and is an expert in cataloguing artist collections. As a means to get organized, Romana and Sara layed out the different lithographs and watercolors and grouped them, capturing an image, measurements, signature, title, date and edition when available.
Select Chinese watercolors that are part of the artist’s collection.
Today was a big day. We moved the Chen Lok Lee collection into Asian Arts Initiative’s building where we will begin the cataloging and organizing process. In taking a quick look through some of the work (which I haven’t seen in the last two years), I discovered that some of my work was mixed in with my father’s.
On the left is mine. On the right is my father’s. He was always my inspiration.
My parents never pushed us into art. In fact, it was the opposite. But when we wanted to paint, draw or otherwise dabble, they were always there for us.
Stay tuned for more next Saturday when we dive into the collection. I can’t wait! Follow the story here.
In the last week since the Atlanta shooting, I have been engulfed in a flood of emotions and activities. My thoughts always came back to wondering what my father would think if he was still with us.
He would want to be seen as human. He would want to be treated with respect. He would want to be treated with dignity. And he would tell all of our Asian American Pacific Islander family to stand up and be proud of who you are and where you come from.
This morning, I visited Wendy, Chinese mounter and framer, in Philadelphia, to get a consult on five of my dad’s paintings that are in need of some tender, loving care.
She told me she was so happy this morning because she got to see some very beautiful artwork. I didn’t have to share much about my dad’s story with her. She just looked and was in awe, and then moved that I was on this journey.
I’m still in search of someone locally who is skilled at conservation of Asian works on paper. If not, I will be making a trip to Boston or China to get these treasures properly cared for.
Chen Lok Lee’s life spanned three continents: Asia, North America and Europe. When I was in graduate school studying social work, I did research on attachment theory and immigration because I wanted to understand what it took for people to be able to leave their homes and countries to set off for a new world. I learned that those with “secure attachment” had difficulty making the journey, but those with “avoidant” or “insecure attachment” were more likely to be willing to leave home. It always made me want to analyze what was going through my father’s head as he traveled from place to place, country to country, continent to continent. I had to remember that being a refugee meant that you were forced to flee, and had limited choice in the matter. For refugees, regardless of their attachment style, they have to deal with whatever pain and trauma comes with the migration. Such was the case with my father.
From 1967 – 1970, my father studied abroad at the Rome Academy in Italy and earned an MFA at the Tyler School of Fine Arts as printmaker, painter and lithography. He worked with some of the best printmakers, and became close to Romas Viesulas and Richard Callner, the latter with whom my father later organized the Mantegna Press II in Philadelphia of which he was technical director.
Chen Lok Lee at the Tiber River, Rome, Italy
As I go through my father’s documents, photos and art from his “Rome era”, I observe that my father had a “rebirth” or “renewal” then. Rome, as the magical city that it is, can do that to you. It elicits feelings of love, wonder and vibrancy. My father’s work during that time, some featured in this post, reflects that inspiration and “newness” in his life, including a new love with my mother.
Chen Lok Lee
While traveling and lecturing in Italy, my father was involved in a group show at the American Embassy and a one man exhibition at “Gallery 68” in Rome. By this time, he had developed technical mastery in printmaking and complex imagery with his watercolors and paintings. What an exciting time for him to be alive.
罗马岁月
李阐洛（Chen Lok Lee）的生活跨越三大洲：亚洲，北美和欧洲。 当我在研究生院学习社会工作时，我进行了依恋理论和移民方面的研究，因为我想了解人们能够离开家园和国家前往新世界所需要的东西。 我了解到那些拥有“安全依恋”的人在旅途中会遇到困难，但是那些拥有“回避”或“不安全依恋”的人更愿意离开家。 这总是让我想分析父亲从一个地方到另一个地方，从一个国家到另一个国家，从一个大陆到另一个大陆旅行时他脑子里在想什么。我必须记住，成为难民意味着被迫逃亡，并且在此事上的选择有限。 对于难民而言，无论他们的依恋方式如何，他们都必须处理移民带来的任何痛苦和创伤。 我父亲就是这种情况。
从1967年至1970年，我父亲在意大利罗马学院（Rome Academy）留学，并在泰勒美术学院（Tyler School of Fine Arts）获得了版画，画家和石版画硕士学位。 他与一些最好的版画家合作，并与Romas Viesulas和Richard Callner接近，后者是我父亲后来与他在费城组织的Mantegna Press II的技术总监。
A few years ago, while taking my daughter, Chen Lee’s granddaughter, to art class at Fleisher Art Memorial, we discovered that her teacher was in fact my father’s former student. We sat and marveled in our tearful realization at our newly discovered connection.
Robin Turnage (Moore ’86) says the following about her professor:
“Chen Lee was my printmaking teacher at Moore College of Art ’79-’81. He was very kind to me during the most turbulent years of my life. I will never forget how his gentle direction, printmaking expertise and his sense of humor made me feel honored as an art student and respected as a person, and I was not used to being shown respect as a student of color in an art school.” – Robin Turnage
Chen Lee remained on staff at Moore College of Art and Design for more than 20 years, leading the printmaking department and earning the rank of full Professor by the time he retired. Read Moore’s publication on his contributions and life here.
Image: Robin Turnage remembers her professor as she holds his memorial card.
Chen Lok Lee, Portrait II, Color Lithograph 图像：李阐洛(Chen Lok Lee)，自画像二，彩色石版画。
It is not lost on me that I am launching my father’s legacy project at a time when anti-Asian sentiment is at an all time high in the U.S. I hope I can use this platform as a way to highlight the role that Asian American and Asian immigrant artists like my father played in creating a more beautiful, just, free and harmonious world.
Many had difficulty wrapping their heads around the fact that my father was a Tyler School of Art and Tamarind Institute trained printmaker influenced by abstract expressionism, but he was also trained in traditional Chinese painting and calligraphy. The (art) world tends to box people in based on what they choose and want to see, and my observation is that he was more appreciated for his Chinese-style paintings, which in my opinion, set limitations on who he was.
His artist statement below tells me that he was courageously and skillfully crossing borders and boundaries with his training and style. Should we be defined by who people think we are, or want us to be, or should we aspire for who we know to be our true selves?
Above: Chen Lee with three scrolls of his own paintings that he mounted and prepared on silk.
Featured: Chen Lee measuring silk for mounting Chinese paintings in a scroll format.
This week, I consulted with an expert conservator, Jing Gao, at the MFA in Boston on the best ways to keep my father’s traditional Chinese paintings safe and in the best condition. Did you know that Chinese paintings are done on a very thin rice paper that can be kept rolled up for years? Mounting the rice paper, or adhering it to another type of thicker paper (xuan paper) serves as a way to give greater structure and stability to the painting. Once they are mounted, they can be framed, or even made into scrolls.
Jing Gao, Cornelius Van Der Starr Conservator of Chinese Paintings at the MFA, once conserved and remounted old and new paintings for the Palace Museum in a studio that was formerly home to the Imperial Court ladies, inside the walls of the Forbidden City in Beijing, China. My father was a good friend of Mr. Gao, who was very happy to know that I am embarking on this project to preserve my father’s art for the next generation.
In 1990, my father was awarded a grant through the NEA to do a residency in Chinese painting and conservation at the University of Michigan Museum of Art. He was the only Chinese painter who was awarded the grant. That summer, I remember him packing up his Blue Volkswagen diesel station wagon and driving out to Ann Arbor on his own. We somehow survived that period of time without him. But the end result was that he deepened his knowledge and expertise in complex mounting and conservation, and had the opportunity to work on several of his own paintings with expert conservator Jing Gao. The skills that my father sharpened that summer got passed on to his students, including Stewart Joon Thomas, who will be helping us over the next few months mount my father’s Chinese paintings so they can get the restorative treatment that they deserve.
1990年，我父亲通过NEA获得了一笔拨款，在密歇根大学艺术博物馆(University of Michigan Museum of Art)从事中国画和保护方面的工作。他是唯一获此殊荣的中国画家。那年夏天，我记得他收拾好蓝色大众柴油旅行车，独自开车去了Ann Arbor。我们在没有他的情况下活了下来。但最终结果是他加深了自己的知识和专长，并有机会与专家Jing Gao一起创作了自己的几幅作品。我父亲那年夏天提高的技能传授给了他的学生，包括@worldcalligraphy，他将在接下来的几个月里帮助我们装裱父亲的中国画，以便它们得到应有的修复。
