A photograph is an image of a real-world object created by recording the light reflected off that object and its surroundings either chemically onto some light-sensitive material or digitally via an image sensor. The technologies used to found and shape the process of photography as we know and understand it today have existed since the early 18th century, namely the camera obscura, which is a dark room with one hole in one wall that allows for the image of an object to be projected onto the opposite wall, and light-sensitive materials, or materials that darken in the presence of light.  However, it was not until after the 1830s, with the rapid development of various means of and techniques for capturing photographic images, such as the daguerreotype, calotype, stereoscopy, etc., that the concept of photography began to take hold in the local domain (Rosenblum et al. 2019).  And while the field of photography underwent these massive technological and methodological transformations during the 19th century, it would take until the early 20th century for photography to finally find itself fully embedded within the local domain. 

As a distinct visual medium, photography has certain characteristics that differentiate it from other visual medias and that have allowed for it to become the type of visual media it is considered today; of these characteristics, the most significant is that of immediacy, or the ability to produce an image instantaneously (Rosenblum et al. 2019). To take a photograph with a  modern camera, regardless of whether the image is captured through a film or digital camera (that is regardless of whether an image is captured chemically or digitally) all one must do is click the shutter, which in turn will open up the aperture (a closed hole in the lens of the camera) thereby letting the operational system within the body of the camera to record the light reflected off the objects within the frame of the lens. While the processing of these images post-capture differs between different photographic techniques and technologies, all photographic images are established at the time of exposure. This characteristic not only is unique to photography as it makes photography the only visual art media that can capture an image exactly as the eye may see it in that particular moment, but also makes photography unique as the gives the photographic images a sense of authenticity and realness that cannot be captured by any other visual media in the same way (Rosenblum et al. 2019).  Before the 20th century, photography was considered a “mechanical art” or a “shortcut to art” due to its dependency on technology, which reflected the popular critique that photography did not require much skill or technique in order to produce an image, especially when compared to other popular forms visual art such as painting and drawing (Rosenblum et al. 2019). However, while photography was not treated as a type of artistic media, despite the fact that it existed as a type of visual media, its capacity for immediacy as well as to capture extensive detail revealed an impressive potential for documentation.  Traditionally, the notion of documentation signified the “record[ing of] the details of an event, a process, etc.” in the form of a document or a “paper or set of papers with written or printed information, especially of an official type”(“Document”, Cambridge English Dictionary).  With the recognition and popularization of photography as a method for documentation, the notion of documentation as well as of a document has expanded beyond the “record[ing of] information… by writing about it” to include “photographing it [information]” as well (“Document”, Cambridge English Dictionary).  Thus, most of the initial thematic or content-related genres of photography were genres of documentation rather than genres of art, such as photojournalism, portraiture and documentary photography – all of which continue to exist as the most popular and defining genres of photography today. 

Influential photographers working within the genre of documentary photography at the turn of the 20th century, such as Edward S. Curtis, attempted to chronical what the world looked like during their lifetime from either a social or environmental perspective.  Curtis became known for his work The North American Indian, which was comprised of 20 volumes of anthropological text about and photogravures (prints of photographic images that are produced by transferring photographic negatives to copper plates and etching them in) of Native Americans that were meant to show the “people and their homeland – a picture that will show the souls of the people” (Gidley 2019). Between 1907 and 1930, Curtis took thousands of photos – primarily portraits – of the indigenous peoples of the trans-Mississippi West, and while it is argued that the resulting work has been a major contribution to the preservation of Native American culture and history, many critics accuse Curtis’s work of perpetuating the idea of Native Americans as a “vanishing race” and presenting inaccurate portrayals of Native American life during that period in time (Warren 1999). In hindsight, perhaps Curtis should have known that his aim was in no way uncomplicated or easy.  Many of the images he took depicted Native Americans in traditional ways of life that were no longer the norm or had died out altogether. Curtis himself confessed to having his subjects reenact ceremonies or reconstruct settings that, while still relevant to their indigenous history, no longer represented their modern way of life. For example, in his photo “In a Piegan Lodge”, a small clock that rests between the two subjects of the image is missing (Meier 2018). While the picture itself, like the thousands of other he took during those 20-plus years, is in many ways respectful of its indigenous subjects in its portrayal of their culture and heritage, the intentional staging and meticulous retouching of this image to portray a highly idealized vision of the artist rather than an accurate representation of its subjects.  While Curtis’s intentions may not have been to do so, his work, by depicting the indigenous people in their traditional dress with their primitive material culture and natural settings, leaves indigenous people lost in a premodern past and establishes a distance between indigenous peoples and the rest of contemporary society, thereby suggesting the possibility and probability that they would disappear in the face of modern progress and contemporary society (Warren 1999).  Of course, while it is true that their culture is a large part of what gives Native American people their identity, to suggest that without their traditions or traditional way of life they would cease to exist altogether only perpetuates idea of repressive authenticity, or the notion that how one was in the past must be the same as they are now in order to be authentic (Wolfe 2006). The consequences of such an idea constrict Native Americans to a specific, and frankly outdated, way of like by requiring that they perform according to non-indigenous or outside expectations of what being an “authentic” Native American person looks like, which in turn often and in many ways restricts Native Americas from progressing along with the rest of society as those outside expectations detail outdated performances and aspects of life that are stuck in the past. Though the loss of certain traditions in the name of or due to progress does not result in the loss of a peoples, forcing indigenous populations to choose between embracing their identity, and in turn retaining their traditional ways of life and risk making a spectacle of themselves in the eyes of society, or foregoing that authenticity and assimilating for the purpose of progress has the potential to be an effective method of eliminating the threat of indigenous populations from a settler-colonial perspective (Wolfe 2006); regardless, it’s a lose-lose situation for the indigenous people as evident by the current reality of Native American populations in the 21stcentury.

Unfortunately, the documentation and portrayal of indigenous peoples as dying or vanishing populations did not end with the criticism of Curtis’s work. If anything, many other photographers since Curtis have found massive inspiration in his work and have attempted to do the same. One of these photographers is Jimmy Nelson, whose photographs of indigenous people from around the world have sparked much praise and even more controversy.  From 2009-2012, the British photographer spent three years visiting and photographing 35 of worlds most isolated and visually unique tribes, which resulted in his first photography book Before They Pass Away. Marrying the genres of portraiture and social documentary as his idol Edward S. Curtis did a century prior, Nelson shot images of the Maori people of New Zealand carefully placed within a beautiful waterfall landscape with their taiahas and wahaikas in hand, and of the Samburu people of Kenya standing on the tops of the Ndoto Mountain Range with spears in one hand and the reign to their camel in the other, and of the Mustang people of Nepal in their intricately embroided gowns and shrouds of red. 

While Nelsons work made laudatory headlines all over the world, selling more than 25,000 copies worldwide and individual prints for tens of thousands of dollars, the images depicted in Before They Pass Away received as much negative reaction and criticism.  Non-indigenous authorities in the photography world, like leading photographer for BBCs Human Planet, Tim Allen, chastised Nelson for producing a “patronizing and self-aggrandizing narrative… a primitive attitude” about indigenous populations (Survival International).  However, Nelson’s intentions have perhaps always been a bit selfish.  According to countless interviews and talks, Nelson has consistently stated that the main motivation behind his projects has been beauty, to simply capture what is beautiful. According to his own TED talk:

I’m a real romantic. I’m an idealist, perhaps in some ways naive. But I truly believe that there are people on the planet that are beautiful. It’s very, very simple. It’s not rocket science. I wanted to put these people on a pedestal. I wanted to put them on a pedestal like they’d never been seen before. So, I chose about 35 different groups, tribes, indigenous cultures. They were chosen purely because of their aesthetic, and I’ll talk more about that later. I’m not an anthropologist, I have no technical study with the subject, but I do have a very, very, very deep passion, and I believe that I had to choose the most beautiful people on the planet in the most beautiful environment that they lived in, and put the two together and present them to you. (Nelson 2014) 

Though Nelson attempts to and often times succeeds in photographing these indigenous people in a respectful manner – that is to say that he attempts understand the culture and traditions of those he photographers –, the manner in which he photographs these people in addition to the fact that he is photographing these peoples under the pretense of them dying or vanishing creates an inaccurate portrayal of and consequent reality for these populations. It is primarily for this reason that representatives of indigenous populations, like Davi Kopenawa of the Yanomami tribe in Brazil, don’t seem to like the photos for it is not true that indigenous peoples are about to die out…we will be around for a long time, fighting for our land, living in this world and continuing to create our children” (Survival International).

As a self-proclaimed street photographer and documentarian, I came to realize early into my journey with photography that I want to tell real stories about real people  – and though I did not learn about photographers like Edward S. Curtis and Jimmy Nelson before I began to research this topic, I suppose I would have found inspiration in them as well had I known about their work before I knew about the social consequences of their work. From the moment I raised my first DSLR camera to my face, squinting into the viewfinder and shooting everything that I saw, I began to experience stories in a way that I had never seriously taken into consideration before.  No longer was I oblivious to every other life but my own; I soon became a silent witness to the world around me as I began to perceive the stories I observed unfold like stills of a movie.  Family trips and summer workshops in faraway places became the background of most of my photographs; capturing the essence of these cities through its people and their culture became the focus of my photography: Two men, one parked behind and one to the left of a colorful fruit stand, in the midst of a heated conversation, hands moving and lips shaking; two Rajasthani dancers twirling under the starry desert sky, their bare feet pulsing to the hypnotic rhythm of the tablas ringing in the air.  I used to believe that a picture is like a time machine – its purpose is not to recall a moment, but to relive it.  And not just relive what was seen through the camera’s viewfinder, but also to holistically relive the experience of that moment in time as it was.  What I’ve realized through my experiences with photography, however, is that to holistically relive the experience behind the photograph (that is to relive what was seen, heard, smelt, felt, etc.) is impossible for anyone to do besides the maker of that image themselves.  After reflecting upon the time I had spent sharing these single slivers of a subjects’ life, it struck me that I’d never know what that conversation between those two men parked by the fruit stand was about, and I’d never find out how those dancers’ feet arrived at that particular dance floor that night. With my eye behind the lens of my camera, I captured these stills with clear-cut clarity, but I have since realized that that’s all these photographs are: details of a single moment.  If a photograph only has the capacity to detail a single moment, then it should also be noted that capturing a still image means knowing that there is a story that can be told and accepting the fact that the truth of that story may not be obvious, or even existent, within the photograph.  If photographs are of multifaceted objects, then a singular photograph can only capture one mood or disposition of its subject (Bolt 2000).  A document is a document, not a person – for the audience of a photograph to assume that an image of indigenous people, however aggrandized, must represent everything that that indigenous person or people are means that the audience are able to understand the story behind that image, but if that image is open to interpretation because only the creator can fully understand the context then that image can never accurately portray such. 

There isn’t necessarily a right or wrong when it comes to Jimmy Nelson, or any other social photographer, and his work – only intention and unintended consequences. While the intentions of his projects are purely aesthetic, the reality of the consequences of photographing indigenous populations in a highly stylized manner that may not accurately reflect their contemporary way of life only perpetuates notions of repressive authenticity. At the end of the day, the fact that thishistorical pattern of highly stylized or retouched photographs of indigenous populations to fit a typically while male creators agenda is a critical issue because it defines the unequal line between the settler narrative and the indigenous narrative, thus perpetuating the distinction between society and the other (the other being indigenous populations) in a manner that skews the indigenous narrative and continues and the historical theme of an almost a wishful state of disappearing from the settler-colonial perspective. 

Bibliography

Bolt, Barbara. “Shedding Light For The Matter.” Hypatia, vol. 15, no. 2, 2000, pp. 202–16, doi:10.1111/j.1527-2001.2000.tb00323.x.

“Criticisms of Photographer Jimmy Nelson’s ‘Before They Pass Away.’” Survival International, Survival International, www.survivalinternational.org/articles/3373-jimmy-nelson-before-they-pass-away. Accessed 6 June 2019.

Curtis, Edward S. “In a Piegan Lodge.” Library of Congress, Great Plains, North America, 1910, https://www.loc.gov/resource/cph.3a51472/.

Davies, Rhodri. “The Photo Controversy over Indigenous People.” Al Jazeera, Al Jazeera Media Network, 19 Nov. 2014, www.aljazeera.com/indepth/features/2014/11/ photo-controversy-over-indigenous-people-20141117103356815649.html. Accessed 6 June 2019.

“DOCUMENT | Meaning in the Cambridge English Dictionary.” Cambridge Dictionary, Cambridge University Press, 2019, dictionary.cambridge.org/dictionary/english/document.

Gidley, Mick. “Edward S. Curtis.” Encyclopædia Britannica, Encyclopædia Britannica, Inc., 12 Feb. 2019, www.britannica.com/biography/Edward-S-Curtis. Accessed 6 June 2019. 

Meier, Allison C. “Edward S. Curtis: Romance vs. Reality.” JSTOR Daily, JSTOR, 18 May 2019, https://daily.jstor.org/edward-s-curtis-romance-vs-reality/. 

Nelson, Jimmy. “Gorgeous Portraits of the World’s Vanishing People.” TED, Oct. 2014, https://www.ted.com/talks/jimmy_nelson_gorgeous_portraits_of_the_world_s_vanishing_people?language=en

Nelson, Jimmy. “IX 126.” Jimmy Nelson, New Zealand, 2011, https://www.jimmynelson.com/people/maori.

Rosenblum, Naomi, et al. “History of Photography.” Encyclopædia Britannica, Encyclopædia Britannica, Inc., 25 Jan. 2019, www.britannica.com/technology/photography. Accessed 6 June 2019. 

Warren, Louis S. “Vanishing Point: Images of Indians and Ideas of American History.” Ethnohistory, vol. 46, no. 2, 1999, pp. 361–372. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/482965.

Wolfe, Patrick. “Settler Colonialism and the Elimination of the Native.” Journal of Genocide Research, vol. 8, no. 4, 2006, pp. 387-409, DOI: 10.1080/14623520601056240.

Representation matters. The reality is that this world, our society, is extremely diverse.  There is no political, economic or social group (ie. ideology) that exists without another group to counter, or exist parallel to it. The question of why representation matters also results in a diverse set of answers, subjective to the person or group answering – however, the common themes of these answers include the ability to see and relate to people similar to oneself (in their race, gender, sexuality, ideology, etc.), in addition to allowing the needs of these different sets of people to be met. As a cornerstone of social society as it exists in the 21st century, visual media (photography, television, film, the internet, etc.) has become one of the most important canvases for representation of and around the world. 

One of the major misrepresented groups within the television sphere are women; the modern and post-modern feminist backlash against which has pushed the issue of gender representation to the forefront of the discussion on representation in television.  Since its conception, and for the next near seven decades post its popularization, television has undergone a distinct transformation in terms of its representation of women. In television’s earlier years (from the 1950s to the mid-60s), many popular television shows, generally in the format of sitcoms, presented female characters who preformed conservative gender roles and confirmed gender divisions (ex. Harriet Nelson of Ozzie and Harriet).  In the years after that (from the mid-1960s to the mid-80s), images of fantastic or super-feminized females also entered the female television character trope (ex. Samantha Stephens of Bewitched, Emma Peel of The Avengers,or Sue Ellen Ewing in Dallas). Though these female characters can be considered perhaps more “diverse” than female characters before – as they were supposedly representations of modern, “independent” women– most of these female characters still existed within and for the male gaze, thus enduring the misrepresentation of female on screen and confirming male sociopolitical hierarchy. 

Gender representation is important because “if attitudes toward female subjugation are systemic, it stands to reason that the art we consume and sanction plays some part in reinforcing those same attitudes” (Ringwald).  Only since the 1990s have female characters began to break the mold of the female character tropes that have been established as the norm. Television shows like Roseanne and Ugly Betty have pushed the boundaries of female representation and challenged what a female character needed to look like in order for a show to be successful by not only showing, but also highlighting female characters with non-normative bodies, working middle-class female characters, and queer female characters. More recently, shows like Orange is the New Black have attempted to completely dismantle traditional female tropes by presenting a very diverse set of female characters (in terms of their race, sexuality, socioeconomic status). Characters like Poussey Washington, a young queer black female with an upper-middle class upbringing, provide a platform for younger, middle-class POC to relate to.  However, despite the diversity seen onscreen, and while these characters themselves don’t outwardly confirm traditional gender hierarchy, the dynamic between the men and women in this show (with most of the female characters as inmates and most of the male characters as the prison guard) still seem to confirm and adhere to a more traditional gender hierarchy. 

The same can be said for the issue of racial representation within television. Similar to the issue of gender representation, racial representation has undergone a very drastic (positive) change since the 1990s.  Popular sitcoms like The Fresh Prince of Bell-Air and The Cosby Show were major stepping-stones for the representation of African-Americans in the American television sphere.  Since then, creatives like Shonda Rhimes have in many ways shattered the metaphorical glass ceiling both on and off screen by creating critically acclaimed and wildly popular television series’ with majority POC casting, while being a POC creative within the television industry herself.  The popularity of her television shows (particularly that of Scandal, which was the first network drama with a black female lead in almost four decades) seemed to have sparked a greater industry interest in diverse storylines, which has consequently resulted in the creation of many other types of television shows centered around POC characters (Harris). Shows like Black-ish, for example, invite POC characters into familial spaces in a way that has not been seen many times before, thus providing a characters and storylines for black families (and the individuals that compose those families) to relate to. However, despite the platform that shows like Black-ish provide for POC, there are still seems to be an unequal representation between POC narratives and white narratives.  In season 2, episode 24 of Black-ish, the adherence to many black gender and racial tropes are still very evident.  During Dre’s dream sequence, Dre dreams of what his life may have been like had he and his family been living in the 1970s.  While the sequence addresses many of the hardships black-Americans lived through during the 20thcentury as a result of systemic discrimination, and show that the television industry is much less afraid to diversify not only in on-screen representation, but also in terms of storyline and written content, there are still many ways such shows can further improve upon how these characters are represented and their stories are told.  For example, based on their performance in this particular episode, Pops plays into the stereotype of the grandfather who adheres to traditional gender roles and nags on his son to “be the man of the household”, and Ruby plays the stereotypically rude grandmother who loves her son and hates her daughter-in-law.  

Representation within the televisual sphere has transformed in the past 80 years. In part due to explosion of media globalization, and in part due to the increased acceptance and fight for cultural diversity, the idea and lack of representation in media has come to the forefront of discussion within the entertainment world.  Many people agree that the entertainment industry has never been more diverse than it is today – both on and off screen; however, this does not mean that it is at a level of diversity where representation is equal across all groups. Though the entertainment industry has made great strides in diversifying what consumers see on screen, and who creates and decides what that is, a lack of equal representation still exists and persists. 

If I were a creative in the television industry within the United States, I would focus on the element of racial/cultural diversity within the television industry, specifically on promoting the Indian-American narrative.  As an Indian-American born and brought up in New York, it makes me sad that I have never seen a brown teenager fall in love on screen, that I’ve never seen an Indian-American as a primary political character, or as a badass crime fighter. As one of the largest populations on the planet, Indians (and, even-more-so, Indian-Americans) seem to be amongst the most underrepresented groups within Hollywood. When Indian characters first began to fill roles on the television screen, they mostly exemplified demeaning and at time out-right embarrassing Indian stereotypes. From Apu Nahasapeemapetilon from The Simpsons to Raj Koothrappali from Big Bang Theory, these characters generally exist as nerdy males with heavy accents and unattractive personalities. Rarely does one every see a normal Indian character, let alone an Indian-American character, and even less so a female Indian/Indian-American character. When it comes to Indian representation in Hollywood the issue seems two-fold: an under-representation as well as a misrepresentation of Indian characters. 

While there has been an intense diversification of character and narrative with the creation of shows like Black-ish and its spin-off Grown-ish, Fresh Off The Boat, and Empire, we have yet to reach a proper level of representation of Indian-Americans (Harris). With shows like Quantico (starring Bollywood actress Priyanka Chopra as Alex Parrish) and New Girl (with actress Hannah Simone as Cece), these representation hardly represent an accurate Indian-American girl, let alone experience – though Priyanka Chopra is an Indian Actress she plays a character named Alex Parrish, who is half-Indian/half-white, she might as well not be Indian at all as her cultural identity is barely vital to her character development.  

It’s so difficult to not see people of my culture, of my skin color, of my ethnic background represented in the content I consume on a daily basis, or when represented then generally misrepresented – in many ways I think it’s changed my own perception of what it means to be Indian-American in America. In this essay, I was told to address two literary works and two television shows that we screened in class as evidence for or against my argument.  When you look at all the options I’ve been given, there is no show on the class list where an Indian/Indian-American character has a major role, or even a secondary role for that matter, and there is no writing piece, which speaks in depth about representation of Indian-Americans (and rarely even of Asian-Americans). Shows like Orange is the New Black have been cornerstones of bringing representation to underrepresented groups – but where is the Indian representation in that? If I had to choose a show, I guess I could point to every show on that list and say that we need to not necessarily move away from, but rather expand upon the progress that shows like Black-ish, Orange is the New Black, and Black Mirror have made by considering a fuller range of diverse characters (not just white, black, and Latino). 

As Harris so neatly puts it, “It’s time to stop placing the burden on diversity programs, relying on the few execs who are willing to take chances on people of color, or seeing the success of Scandal and Empire as evidence that there’s no problem to solve. Instead, every show-runner should be forced out of his comfort zone. Why not force show-runners to go beyond relying on what they are sent by agents— to actively seek out new voices? Why not give agents an incentive to dig deeper and find more writers of color?” I agree in that I see how discouraging it can be to minority creatives trying to enter a world where the issue of representation just barely extends to encompass your identity – there is without a doubt a power in that, but it doesn’t make the situation any less discouraging. 

Perhaps this issue persists because Indian-Americans don’t play a major role in the American narrative – we don’t have a long history of systemic repression like African-Americans do, and we don’t have a wild history of immigration like Mexican-Americans do, but that doesn’t mean that we don’t exist or matter within the American social sphere. 

References

Harris, Aisha. “Same Old Script: On screen, TV is more diverse than ever. Why aren’t writing staffs catching up?” Slate, 18 Oct. 2015, http://www.slate.com/articles /arts/culturebox/2015/10/diversity_in_the_tv_writers_room_writers_and_showrunners_of_color_lag_far.html

Ringwald, Molly. “What about “The Breakfast Club”? Revising the movies of my youth in the age of #MeToo.” The New Yorker, 6 April 2018, https://www.newyorker.com/ culture/personal-history/what-about-the-breakfast-club-molly-ringwald-metoo-john-hughes-pretty-in-pink

A bustling spice market forced into a maze of alleyways and overflowing with delicate aromas, turban-clad merchants riding camel-back through the expansive desert, porcelain-skinned ladies clothed in bright red silks – all are images that contribute to popular notions of the Middle East, North Africa, and East Asia, but these images are also firmly tied to Orientalism. To understand the meaning of these images (that is images of the non-Western civilization) as depicted in the Digital Age, and moreover within the motion picture industry specifically, one must understand the concept of Orientalism, beginning with the term “Orient” itself.  Historically, the term “Orient”, derived from the Latin word “oriens” meaning “east”, referred to the geographic East.  Since the term was crafted during the late Roman Empire and used by European civilizations thereafter, albeit in different capacities, the Orient thus referred to territories east of Europe or east of Western Civilization (Lewis and Wigen 53).  The Orient’s existence has not only been apparent to Western Europe from the beginning of Western civilization but has also played a very significant role throughout Western European history. 

While the notion of the Orient has existed for centuries, a critical analysis of the Orient in the context of the Western world did not emerge until the late 20thcentury with the late Edward Saïd’s book entitled Orientalism.  Edward Saïd, renowned professor of literature at Columbia University in the City of New York and founder of the academic field of postcolonial studies, coined the term “Orientalism” and utilized the concept of Orientalism to explain Eastern Asia’s place in the Western European experience. Since the release of Saïd’s publication in 1978, academics in a wide range of academic fields beyond postcolonial studies have utilized the term “Orientalism” to refer to the attitudes of cultural and ethnic superiority that transpired as a result of modern colonialism and continue to persist in the current postcolonial era. Saïd’s work concentrated on the fact that “the Orient has helped to define the West [by existing as] its contrasting image, idea, personality, [and] experience” (2). He ultimately argues that Orientalism, or the Western perception of the Eastern world, colors the Orient as the irrational, psychologically weak, and feminized non-European “Other” – a direct contrast to the West’s perception of itself.  This nebular opposition, in hierarchy of strength, lends itself to the cultural inequality between the East and the West. Consequently, the representation of Asia in contemporary Western art forms has, more often than not, become stereotyped in a way embodies the colonial attitude of Orientalism.  The film The Joy Luck Club (1993), an adaptation of Amy Tan’s first novel by the same name, relied on these common Oriental stereotypes to drive both the plot and the theme(s) of the film.  The presented stories of the four Chinese immigrant mothers (Lindo, Ying-Ying, An-Mei, and Suyuan) in relation to the presented stories of their Chinese-American daughters (Waverly, Lena, Rose, and June) in the film not only provides evidence of the persistence of Orientalism in the depiction of Eastern societies, but also normalizes the orientalist attitude. 

Within the first 30 seconds of the film, we find our first piece of evidence of orientalism.  In her opening monologue, June relays a story that her mother, Suyuan, had told her many times over throughout her life about her journey to America, in which she says:

“In America I will have a daughter just like me, but over there nobody will say her worth is measured by the loudness of her husband’s belch.  Over there nobody will look down upon her because I will make her speak only perfect American English. And over there she will always be too full to swallow any sorrow.” 

The very first story that is told is one that already upholds the West (ie. America) to a higher standard than the East (ie. China).  This story also promptly establishes the sentiment that women in China are only valued by the measure of their husband and receive very little respect, education and knowledge otherwise - a sentiment of Chinese culture and society that persists throughout the film.  

Throughout the rest of the film, blatant adherence to orientalism is apparent in the representation of many aspects of Chinese society as depicted in the women’s stories.  The first blatant adherence to orientalism is seen in the fact that there is not one Oriental character (apart from the mothers and daughters) with any redeeming qualities; all the Chinese men are portrayed as sexist and cruel or weak and undesirable, while the all the other Chinese women are portrayed as either insecure and submissive or deceitful and domineering. Another blatant adherence to orientalism can be seen in motif that Chinese mothers do not care for the welfare of their daughters.  When Lindo’s mother promises her to a rich family at the age of four; when Ying-Ying drowns her baby son out of contempt for her cheating husband; when An-Mei’s grandmother does not believe that An-Mei’s mother was raped and instead throws her out of the house; when An-Mei’s mother commits suicide, not considering that An-Mei will grow up motherless; when Rose has a child in a futile attempt to rejuvenate her marriage – every Chinese mother in this film seems to have sacrificed aspects of their daughters lives for their own personal welfare (Zhang 276).  There also seems to be a blatant adherence to the aforementioned hierarchy of strength based on race.  In the film, this hierarchy allows Rich and Ted (the only white male characters) to ultimately redeem themselves for any transgressions that they make during the film. Rich, Waverly’s fiancé, is a good-natured man whose biggest flaws are his inability to use chopsticks and his initial ignorance of proper Chinese etiquette.  In an attempt to introduce Rich to her family and get Lindo to like him, Waverly brings Rich to a family dinner, but he almost miserably fails to impress them.  Sometime after, while at a hair salon, Lindo, sad at how ashamed Waverly seems to be her daughter (and unknowing that the feeling is mutual on Waverly’s part), reflects upon her moments with her own mother and declares to Waverly that she does like Rich.  Ted, Rose’s husband, is also a very wonderful man as he defends Rose from his racist mother, tries his part to reconcile their marriage by encouraging Rose to express her opinion, and ultimately is not to blame for cheating on her as Rose is so caught up in his happiness that she loses all of her own.  By the end of the film, both men not only have the opportunity to reconcile with their significant others, but it also seems as if their respective relationships came out stronger than before.  Ultimately, the stories of two white male characters end perfectly almost as perfectly as the stories of the actual protagonists in this Asian-American female narrative – a thing that can only be achieved with an adherence to the concept of orientalism. 

Throughout the film, perhaps the most major adherence to orientalism exists in cultural chasm between the mothers and the daughters.  One of the more interesting ways that this cultural chasm manifests is in the differences between the mothers and daughters stories, and the most interesting aspect of these differences is that the stories of the mothers in China reflect a human vs. environment conflict while the stories of their daughters in America reflect either a human vs. human conflict or a human vs. self conflict.  When comparing the story of Lindo to the story of Waverly or the story of Suyuan to the story of June, this difference in type of conflict manifests as human vs. environment conflict and human vs. human conflict.  While in China, both Lindo and Suyuan find conflict and struggle in their environment – Lindo’s conflict being that she is stuck in an arranged marriage and Suyuan’s conflict being that she is stuck in the middle of the Japanese invasion of China during WWII.  Ultimately, both their solutions to this human vs. environment conflict are to find a way out of their current situation and eventually to a better land. Though Lindo and Suyuan’s individual conflicts and subsequent resolutions differ, their ultimate resolutions land them both in America, thus reflecting Orientalism by once again implying that Oriental women hold the West at a high standard than their native East. 

Contrastingly, in America, both Waverly and June find conflict and struggle in their relationship with their mothers.  Most of Waverly’ and June’s issues with their mothers arise from the sentiment that they could never live up to their mother’s expectations, and many of these perceived expectations seem to be rooted in culture.  From age six to nine, Waverly became a chess champion and national sensation – much to Lindo’s satisfaction.  However, annoyed at Lindo for showing her off on the streets to everyone they know, Waverly quits chess in hopes of hurting her mother. When she tries to play again, Waverly loses, realizing that her previous decision to take a break did not hurt her mother as much as it hurt herself.   After this incident, nothing that Waverly has done has been able to “satisfy” Lindo - even marrying a Chinese husband in an attempt to please her. Similarly, June gives the example of her first piano recital, where she messes up and makes a fool of her mother. After that incident, she thinks her mother would allow her to give up the piano, but Suyuan only pushes her harder. June then retaliates against her mother, exclaiming rather ignorantly, “I’m not your slave. This isn’t China!”  In these instances, the mothers have become the “Other” as they represent the East while the daughters represent the West.  Together, Lindo’ and Suyuan’s conflict with China (a reflection of the geographic and societal “East”) and Waverly’ and June’s conflict with their mothers (a reflection of the cultural “East”) implies orientalism. 

Moreover, when comparing the story of Ying-Ying to the story of Lena or the story of An-Mei to the story of Rose, the difference in human vs. environment conflict and human vs. self conflict becomes apparent.  Similar to the stories of Lindo and Suyuan, the stories of Ying-Ying and An-Mei find conflict in their environment – Ying-Ying’s conflict being that she is unable to leave an emotionally and physically abusive marriage and An-Mei’s conflict being that she finds herself stuck in a compromising living situation, particularly in the wake of her own mother’s death. Contrastingly, the stories of their daughters, Lena and Rose, find conflict with their own character.  What is so interesting about this human vs. self conflict in Lena and Roses’ stories is that this conflict with the self can be seen as a reflection of their mother’s stories.  In her story, Lena, a witness to her mother’s depression, is stuck in an uncomfortable marriage with her husband, Harold. After finally at certain peace with her years of trauma and sad to see her daughter settling herself into an unhappy marriage as she did years before, Ying-Ying tells Lena that she should leave Harold and not come back until and unless he gives her what she wants.  Rose’s story, similar to that of Lena’s, is also about her relationship with her husband and the unhappy marriage that she settled herself into.  An-Mei comes to visit her daughter, during which she relays the story of her own mother’s fate to Rose and encourages Rose to stand up for herself against Ted, unlike her own mother, in order to change things. Ultimately, the parallels between Lena and Rose’s initial inner weakness and Ying-Ying and An-Mei’s stories uphold the colonial sentiment of the Oriental people’s inherent psychological weakness.  Furthermore, Lena and Rose’s ability to find their inner strength and pull themselves out of their individual situations (a representation of Western strength) in contrast to Ying-Ying and An-Mei’s mother’s inability to do (a representation of Eastern weakness) so once again implies an orientalism. 

The very nature of the Lindo, Suyuan, Ying-Ying, and An-Mei’s stories (especially when compared to their daughter’s stories by the intentional juxtaposition of their stories) adhere to the concept of orientalism as well.  As stated before, Orientalism is a way of perceiving the East in the eyes of the West, and part of this perception is an exaggeration of images.  Although their stories are very relatable as the essence of these stories are rooted in the tragedy of the loss of mothers, the loss of lovers, and the loss of children, the plot in which these issues are presented makes them unrelatable to most audiences. Take An-Mei’s story as an example: An-Mei is raised by her grandparents after her mother is disowned for having an affair with Wu-Tsing, a wealthy middle-aged man, abruptly after the death of her first husband.  At nine years old, An-Mei is reunited with her long-lost mother who has come back to see her own dying mother (An-Mei’s grandmother).  In an effort to no loose her mother again, An-Mei moves out.  An-Mei moves in with her mother, who is now the fourth wife of Wu-Tsing.  Distraught by the situation she’s been brought into, An-Mei questions her mother. She learns that the Second Wife tricked her mother into being raped and impregnated by Wu-Tsing.  When her relatives did not believe her story, An-Mei’s mother was kick out of her own house.  Having nowhere to go, her mother had no choice but to marry Wu-Tsing. Later, after An-Mei’s mother gave birth to a baby boy, the Second Wife took him and claimed him as her own. After An-Mei discovers the truth, her mother commits suicide for the sake of her daughter.  Angry because she knew that her mother killed herself (because of her present situation), An-Mei threatens Wu-Tsing with the vengeance of her mother’s angry ghost.  Afraid of this curse, Wu-Tsing vows to raise An-Mei and her half-brother with the greatest care and promises to honor her mother as an honorable first wife. Though various aspects of An-Mei’s story is culturally and historically valid, such as the practice of polygamy, her story in its entirety is crazy and ends unrealistically (or in a way that would not commonly occur), thus diminishing relatability to her storyline and pushing the audience away from a place of empathy for her character. Furthermore, the juxtaposition of An-Mei’s story the subsequent story of her daughter, Rose, shows that Rose’s conflict is very similar to the conflict that An-Mei saw in her mother.  Since Rose’s story is more relatable to the Western narrative as it functions both culturally and geographically within the West, the ability for audiences to relate to An-Mei’s story is lost not only in the details of her crazy journey, but in the comparison of her story to that of her daughters (Li 43).  Though this aspect of the film does not necessarily display orientalism in the strictest sense, the juxtaposition and consequential comparison of a Chinese mother’s story and her Chinese-American daughter’s story to a degree effects the audiences ability to relate as much to An-Mei’s story as they might to Rose’s story. 

Finally, while the intentional juxtaposition of the story of each mother to that of their daughter draws attention to narrative differences and reveals how an exaggeration of image can reduce an audience’s ability to empathize with a character, this juxtaposition also draws attention to visual differences, specifically the contrasting use of color throughout the film.  The way the scenes that depict the mother’s stories are set up and delivered exhaust brighter colors (ie. Reds, golds, whites or crèmes), which may be used to emphasize the dramatics or chaos of a scene, but ultimately make these stories feel even more foreign as an audience can become distracted by what they are seeing and pay less attention to what is actually being said - especially once compared to the visual representation of their daughter’s stories. The general use of duller colors (greys, blues, blacks, greens) used in the depiction of the stories of the daughters allow for more attention to be paid to the actual plot of their stories – which in and of themselves are pretty “dull” as they are more common storylines found within the Western narrative. 

Simply put, orientalism is a way of perceiving Asian society that embraces attitudes of colonial superiority, and the persistence of orientalist attitudes in the postcolonial era is why issues of misrepresentation of non-western culture in western film arise. Evidence of this misrepresentation can be found in instances of orientalism present in many western filmmakers’ vision of the East. Throughout this paper, we have discussed how adherences to orientalism throughout The Joy Luck Clubseem to manifest in one of three ways: use of oriental stereotypes in the depiction of oriental characters, the difference in conflict type which separates the stories of the mothers from the daughters, and the intentional juxtaposition of the mother’s stories to their daughter’s stories. In comparison to their daughters, the mothers come from more tragic circumstances, which are only heightened by the adherence to orientalism throughout the film.  These heightened tragic circumstances push the mother’s narratives far enough from the audience where they being to replace their feelings of empathy for feelings of sympathy or even pity.   The continued persistence of orientalism in Asian representations in American film is a critical issue because it defines the unequal line between the American narrative and the Asian narrative, thus perpetuating the distinction of race in a manner that puts the Asian narrative below the American (or even the Asian-American) one. 

References

Lewis, Martin W., and Wigen, Kären.  The Myth of Continents: A Critique of Metageography.  University of California Press, 1997. 

Li, Wanlin.  Adapting The Joy Luck Club: Thematic Emphasis through Form.  Image & Narrative, vol. 11, no. 2, 2010, pp. 38-48. 

Lim, Andrea. The Alt-Right’s Asian Fetish. The New York Times, 6 Jan. 2018, https://nyti.ms/2EeFh3W.  Accessed April 11, 2018. 

Pieterse, Jan N. White Negroes. White on Black: Images of Blacks in Western Popular Culture, New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1992.  

The Joy Luck Club, Directed by Wayne Wang, performances by Ming-Na Wen, Rosalind Chao, Lauren Tom, France Nguyen, Tamlyn Tomita, Kieu Chinh, Lisa Lu, and Tsai Chin, Buena Vista Pictures, 1993. 

Zhang, Juwen. “Filmic Folklore and Chinese Cultural Identity.” Western Folklore, vol. 64, no. 3, 2005, pp. 263-280, http://www.jstor.org/stable/25474752
. Accessed 18 April 2018.