Chris Lee 李宇春 「Real Love/Only You」

Posted on December 10, 2015 commentaires

Chris Lee 「Real Love/Only You」 - released on December 10, 2015.

Directed by: Kinga Burza
Creative Director: Finn Mactaggart


Chris Lee 「Real Love」【爱有引力】- released on December 10, 2015.


Chris Lee 「Only You」【混蛋,我想你】- released on December 10, 2015.

PC Music has announced a collaboration with Li Yuchun, the Chinese pop star also known as Chris Lee. Li has since released six albums, scored dozens of #1 singles and starred in three films, making her the biggest star PC Music has ever worked with.
They’re working on a 2-song EP called『Duality』, along with a project presented in forms of music, videos and pictures. It’ll be called『REAL LOVE/ONLY YOU』.
According to Finn, Chris Lee is a person who doesn’t conform, so Finn wanted to create something different, so the music video will be divided into two parts with distinct style.
The music video will be about the confronting roles of a celebrity’s ‘real life role’ and ‘virtual role’.
According to A.G. Cook, after he searched through Chris’ biography, 「Why Me」 would be a good topic to discuss, allowing Chris to reflect her role in the music industry, becoming a continuous explorer.

Version bilingue anglais-chinois très sympa aussi :



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Amy Hong 「Veut-on vivre dans une France où l'on doit défendre et justifier son identité française?」

Posted on December 08, 2015 commentaires

Après les attentats du 13 novembre, Angel et son fils Brandon parlant de la France comme de leur maison ont ému des millions de spectateurs. Une interview qu'ils ont donnée ensuite au 「Petit Journal」 a bouleversé Amy Hong, une américano-viêtnamienne qui vit en France. Et elle interroge sur le genre de France dans laquelle on veut vivre.

Quelques jours après les attentats du 13 novembre, mon cousin Trọng  – débarqué en France en tant que réfugié vietnamien à l’âge de 12 ans, en 1981 – a partagé une vidéo du 「Petit Journal」 posant en vedette Brandon, gamin adorable de six ans, qui avait été interviewé avec son père Place de la République deux jours après les attentats.

La vidéo, devenue virale depuis, commence par un extrait de l’entretien original du père et du fils dans lequel Brandon affirme que les terroristes sont « très, très méchants » et craint que sa famille doive changer de maison. « Mais non... c’est la France, notre maison », rassure son père dans une phrase qui a ému tellement de spectateurs.


「Attentats de Paris : Brandon, 6 ans, « Les méchants, c'est pas très gentil »」 - from 「Le Petit Journal」 aired on November 15, 2015 posted on November 22, 2015.

En plateau quelques jours plus tard, expliquant que ce moment poignant, diffusé dans de nombreux pays et sous-titré en plusieurs langues, avait attendri des centaines de milliers de gens dans le monde, Yann Barthès demande à Angel, le père de Brandon, pourquoi ils avaient décidé d’aller déposer des fleurs à République avec son fils ce dimanche-là.

Angel débute sa réponse en déclarant son amour pour la France, où il a grandi à partir de ses trois ans, insistant sur le fait qu’il se sent « complètement français ».
Puis :

« Le problème c’est que » – Angel s’arrête, déglutit anxieusement, et continue avec une voix hésitante, presque comme une excuse : « à première apparence, on voit que je suis d’origine asiatique ». Quelques secondes plus tard, Angel évoque une remarque qu’on lui avait faite, précisant bien qu’elle ne l’avait ni énervé ni choqué, mais plutôt qu’elle l’avait fait « beaucoup rigoler »: « Si c’est Jackie Chan qui représente la France, on est dans la merde ». Sur le plateau, tout le monde rit.

J’ai la boule au ventre.

Que signifie Angel lorsqu’il dit que « le problème » est qu’on remarque immédiatement ses origines asiatiques ? Serait-il vraiment démesuré d'interpréter ce « problème » comme le fait qu’il ne soit pas blanc, rendant donc son identité française suspecte ? Le vrai problème, n’est-il pas qu’Angel, contrairement à ses homologues français blancs, ressente le besoin de défendre et justifier son identité française ?

« Mais vous venez d’où ?»
Vivant parmi les français depuis des années, j’ai été confrontée plusieurs fois à des manifestations de racisme ordinaire, désignées par le terme de « micro-agressions » par le professeur de psychologie Derald Wing Sue de l’université Columbia. Une fois, quand une femme française un peu plus âgée m’a demandé d’où je venais – la Chine ? le Japon ? – je lui ai dit que j’étais américaine. Sa réponse incrédule a été : « Mais vous n’êtes pas américaine – vous ne pouvez pas cacher vos racines !»

En 2010, le premier jour de mon stage au Parlement européen, une attachée de presse française m’a saluée, dans un ascenseur bondé, avec les mots « nĭ hăo » en baissant sa tête. Je venais moi-même de me présenter – en français.

Les fois où j’ai contesté ces types de comportement – en particulier, ceux qui consistaient à me désigner comme chinoise, venant aussi de français jeunes et éduqués – on m’a poliment répondu que pour les français tous les Asiatiques étaient étiquetés ainsi.

Une pratique manifeste dans la comparaison entre Angel, d’origine vietnamienne, et Jackie Chan. Cet amalgame est non seulement révélateur, pour un pays comme la France – qui a une population vietnamienne assez considérable (environ 300.000 personnes) et un passé colonial au Vietnam – mais il souligne aussi l’absurdité de la question obsessionnelle posée régulièrement à n’importe quel français de couleur, après qu’il dise qu’il est français : « Mais vous venez d’où ?»

L'identité française, une identité excluante
Poser des questions sur les origines de quelqu’un de façon bienveillante ne doit pas poser de problème, mais quelle utilité, quand les révélations qui s’en suivent n’empêchent pas les amalgames ? C’est sans doute cette question, tellement assimilée, qui a provoqué cet aveu de la part d’Angel, dévoilant ses origines sans même avoir été questionné.

Justifier la récurrence de ces micro-agressions par l’importance toute relative portée au politiquement correct par les français, particulièrement comparé à leurs voisins américains, ne tient pas. Il n’est pas non plus possible d’expliquer ces comportements par le modèle républicain français, selon lequel les attaches ethniques, religieuses et culturelles doivent disparaître de la vie publique, permettant à tous les citoyens d’être tout simplement français. L’influence de ce modèle se reflète dans les façons différentes dont les américains et les français de couleur s’identifient : alors qu’aux États-Unis, je peux dire que je suis « Vietnamese-American », affirmant ces deux identités avec assurance, sans conflit, en France les identités composées (franco-japonaise, franco-allemand, franco-algérienne) sont réservées à ceux qui ont des parents de deux nationalités distinctes. Par ailleurs, les personnes comme Angel sont considérées comme « français d’origine étrangère », une construction linguistique affirmant clairement la prévalence d’une identité française censée primer sur les origines, quelles qu’elles soient.

En pratique, cette approche produit un résultat ironique : même si les Angel de France sont sommés de s’identifier avant tout comme français, leur identité française est remise en cause. Les français de couleur essaient de se raccrocher à une identité solide, et finissent parfois par minimiser leurs origines afin de souligner à quel point ils sont français. Cependant, le fait de ne pas être blanc reste toujours un « problème », une marque de la non-appartenance. Trọng me l’a un jour avoué : « Je ne me sentirai jamais comme l’un d’eux.»

Cela s’oppose à l’idée d’une intégration supposément forte des Asiatiques dans la société française. Comme aux États-Unis, ils sont considérés comme une minorité exemplaire, appréciés pour leur ardeur au travail et parce qu’ils « ne causent pas de problème ». Examiner cette modestie qui leur est attribuée à travers le prisme du « problème » posé par les origines asiatiques d’Angel nous permet de repenser un autre terme, synonyme de modeste : effacé, ou « self-effacing » en anglais, c'est-à-dire « celui qui sait s’effacer ». Dans ce contexte, il est intéressant de voir la nouvelle signification que peut prendre cet adjectif, qui ne signifie plus alors seulement une admiration pour la modestie des asiatiques en France, mais bien aussi une appréciation pour leur capacité supposée à disparaître de l’espace public.

Tout cela ne change ni la nature émouvante des mots de Brandon et Angel, ni la sympathie et l’affection qui leur ont été montrées par les journalistes et le public du 「Petit Journal」. Mais à un moment où les défis en matière d’intégration font l’objet de débats enflammés dans leur pays, les français auraient des leçons à tirer d’une compréhension plus poussée des expériences de leur « minorité modèle ». Une question essentielle qui se pose est : les français veulent-ils vivre dans une société où le petit Brandon et ses amis non-blancs ressentiront le besoin de qualifier leur apparence et leurs origines comme un « problème », ou bien une société où ils pourront dire qu’ils sont français, un point c’est tout ?

Author: Amy Hong/Date: December 08, 2015/Source: http://www.slate.fr/story/111021/france-identite

「Interview de Brandon et de son père Angel - Le Petit Journal du 20/11」

Amy Hong 「Being French, No Questions Asked」


Amy Hong published this essay on national and ethnic identity in France on Slate.fr under the title 「Veut-on vivre dans une France où l'on doit défendre et justifier son identité française?」. Humanity in Action is pleased to publish the English edition of the essay. Amy Hong is a Humanity in Action Senior Fellow (Denmark 2008).

A week after the attacks, my cousin Trọng – who came to France as a Vietnamese refugee at the age of 12 – shared a video from 「Le Petit Journal」 featuring Brandon, the six-year-old who was interviewed with his father two days after the attacks amid a gathering of flower-laying mourners at Paris’ Place de la République. Bearing the caption “They touched the entire world,” the video starts with a clip from the original interview with the father-son pair, in which Brandon describes the terrorists as “very, very mean” and fearfully says that his family should change homes. No, his father reassures him – France is their home, and even if the bad guys have guns, it’s okay, because they have flowers.

Describing this poignant moment as having captured the hearts of millions, Yann Barthès, 「Le Petit Journal」's host, asks Brandon’s father, Angel, why they visited the memorial. Angel begins with declaring his love for France: arriving in the country as a three-year-old, he feels “completely French.”
But then:

“The problem is” – Angel says, pausing, swallowing, and continuing almost apologetically – “people can tell I’m of Asian descent.” Angel then shares a recent remark directed at him, which he admits to finding neither shocking nor upsetting, but even funny: “If it’s Jackie Chan who’s representing France, we’re all in trouble.” Everyone laughs.

My stomach knots up.

What does Angel mean when he says the “problem” is looking Asian? Would it be that far-fetched to interpret this “problem” as not being white, therefore rendering his Frenchness suspect? Isn’t the real problem that, unlike his French white counterparts, Angel feels the need to defend and justify his French identity?

Having lived among the French for years, I have encountered myriad instances of casual racism, what psychology professor Derald Sue calls “microaggressions.” Once, when an older Parisian woman asked where I was from – China? Japan? – I told her I was American. Her disbelieving response was, “Oh please, you are not American – you can’t hide your roots!” In 2010, on the first day of interning at the European Parliament, a French press secretary greeted me in an elevator full of people, to my shock, with a head bow and the words “nĭ hăo.” This was after having introduced myself – in French.

When I have protested such behavior – particularly being unthinkingly called chinoise, including by young, educated French people at times – I have been politely told that for the French, all ostensible East Asians are simply labeled as such. This perverse practice is evident in the equation of Angel, of Vietnamese descent, with Jackie Chan. Not only is this amalgame striking in a country like France – which boasts a sizable Vietnamese population and a colonial history in Vietnam – it highlights the absurdity of the obsessive question every French person of color has surely been posed at some point after saying they’re French: “But where are you really from?” The same persistent question that compelled Angel to reveal his ethnic roots without even being asked about them.

Chalking up these microaggressions to French people’s reduced concern with political correctness is not enough. Nor can it be justified with the French republican model, under which individuals’ ethnic, religious and cultural attachments should be absent from public life, where citizens are meant to be plainly French. The dominance of this model is reflected in how Americans vs. French people of color self-identify. Whereas in the U.S., I can call myself Vietnamese-American and hold both identities confidently, hyphenated identities in France are reserved for those with parents from different countries – a franco-japonaise is someone with a French parent and a Japanese parent. Meanwhile, people like Angel are considered français d’origine étrangère, a linguistic construction that clearly puts being French first, and ethnic roots second.

In practice, the ironic result of this approach is that people like Angel are asked to identify first and foremost as French, at the same time that their very Frenchness is questioned. They find themselves grasping for a solid identity, at times minimizing their ethnic roots to emphasize just how French they are. But non-whiteness is still a “problem,” a marker of non-belonging. As Trọng once told me, “We will never totally feel like one of them.” This is so despite the fact that Asians in France, like in the U.S., are viewed as a “model minority:” well-liked for their industriousness and “not causing problems.” This modesty associated with them – when examined alongside Angel’s description of his detectable Asian roots as problematic – brings to mind the term “self-effacing,” with the adjective taking on a perverse layer of meaning. Effacer, after all, means “to erase.”

None of this is to deny the moving nature of Brandon and Angel’s words or the goodwill shown to them by 「Le Petit Journal」’s audience and journalists. But at a time when integration challenges are the object of vociferous debate in France, the French could learn from taking a better look at the experiences of its model minority. Doing so reveals a more nuanced picture of the country’s relationship to its different ethnic groups. One key question is: do the French want to live in a society where little Brandon and his friends of color will one day feel the need to characterize their outward appearance as a “problem,” or where they can say they are French, no questions asked?

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CL 씨엘 「Hello Bitches」

Posted on December 05, 2015 commentaires

CL 「Hello Bitches」 Dance Performance Video - released on December 05, 2015.

Director: Parris Goebel
Producer: Parris Goebel
Production Company: Ryan Parma
Choreographer: Parris Goebel
Dancers: The Ladies of ReQuest Dance Crew from The Palace Dance Studio, NZ

CL poursuit sa quête du cool pour s'imposer en occident (∪。∪)。。。zzz
Très bonne critique du clip cliché là : http://noisey.vice.com/fr/blog/cl-hello-bitches-mode-d-emploi-clip-infernal


CL 「Hello Bitches」 Dance Video Making Film - posted on November 23, 2015.

Classy


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BTS 방탄소년단 「Run」

Posted on November 29, 2015 commentaires

BTS 「Run」 - from『The Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Young Forever』released on November 29, 2015.

Les BTS sont de mignons rappeurs, mais ils sont aussi bons lorsqu'ils font des chansons mélodiques, et avec une chorégraphie sexy, c'est encore mieux ;)


La version japonaise :


BTS 「Run」 Japanese Ver.- - released on March 15, 2016.

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Jeff Yang 「Into The Badlands’ Daniel Wu Is the Asian American Action Hero That Bruce Lee Should’ve Been」

Posted on November 25, 2015 commentaires

AMC’s new action fantasy series 「Into The Badlands」 slashed its way to a huge premiere last week, making the most of its lead-in from veteran megahit 「The Walking Dead」 to debut with the highest ratings of any new cable or network series this season. The show, which takes place in a dystopian future America ruled by seven ruthless barons, combines ambitiously expansive worldbuilding with breathtakingly elaborate martial arts combat.

This strange and remarkable fusion wouldn’t hold without the stellar performance of protagonist Daniel Wu as Sunny, a lethal human weapon who has taken over 400 lives for his baron, each marked with a tattooed swash on his back. But his years of loyal service are suddenly tested with the arrival of a young man named M.K. (newcomer Aramis Knight), who may hold the key to a brighter world beyond the bloody Badlands.

Born and raised in San Francisco, and now a marquee superstar in Greater China, Wu has been jetting back and forth between his native and adopted homes, bouncing between promotional activities for Badlands and an ongoing movie shoot with legendary Hong Kong action director Ringo Lam.

Slate caught up with Wu on his most recent trip back to the U.S., to discuss the challenges of bringing martial arts to the small screen, righting the wrongs of cinematic history, and how it feels to be that rarest of creatures: an Asian male romantic action lead in Hollywood.

In 「Into The Badlands」, you pretty much stay away from special effects. The action is legit.

That was the whole goal: Bringing legitimate Chinese martial arts cinema to a production with Hollywood-style budgets. When I was a kid, I loved watching kung fu movies — in San Francisco, we had 「Kung Fu Theater」 on TV on Saturdays, and they’d air old Shaw Brothers movies with English dubbing, things like that. Then one day my grandfather said to me “You want to watch kung fu? Let me show you real kung fu.” And he took me down to the Great Star Theater in Chinatown to watch Jet Li’s first movie, 「Shaolin Temple」. After it was over, he said “That is kung fu.” I was so enamored of it that I wanted to learn it for myself. So at age 11, I started learning wushu.

I was a hyperactive kid, and it took awhile for me to find the right teacher. My master was a Shaolin kung fu teacher, but he also taught tai chi, Chinese medicine, brush painting — he was adept at all facets of Chinese culture. It was great to be a Chinese American kid and absorb all of that. [Orinda,] the town I grew up in, was mostly Caucasian, so learning martial arts really brought me much closer to my roots. And because my master was this renaissance man, I wasn’t just learning a fighting style, I was learning how kung fu permeates all aspects of life, from eating to healthy living to mental state. I learned the philosophy behind it, which is an essential part of martial arts that I think often gets overlooked.

But you never had any intention to become an action star — or even an actor?

Not at all. I took a crazy path to get here. I graduated from university with a degree in architecture, and then ended up doing a series of internships with different firms. And once I was in an office environment, I realized that at school what I was doing was 98 percent creative, 2 percent makework, but in the real world, it was the other way around. I had an older classmate who worked for I.M. Pei. She ended up drawing the same window detail over and over for two years straight.

So I went on a soul-searching mission. It was 1997, and I decided to visit Hong Kong because this historical moment was happening, with the island being handed back to China. I made the mistake of going to Japan first, where I spent all of my money. By the time I got to Hong Kong I was broke. I was in this bar having a drink, depressed that I’d have to go straight back to the U.S., and this guy came up to me and asked if I wanted to be in a TV commercial. I asked how much, and they told me $4,000. And because I wanted to keep traveling, I took the money and did the ad. Well, this director, Yonfan, saw my commercial, and he called me in for an interview, and by the end of the conversation, he asked me to play the lead in his next film. I said to him, “Are you crazy? I don’t act, and I can’t even speak Cantonese!”

That same week, I ran into Jackie Chan at a party, and within a few minutes of talking, he told me he wanted to be my manager. “What, are you serious?” My mind was blown. I went from drinking in a bar to starring in a feature film and having the biggest star in Asia as my manager.

And it would never have happened that way in the United States.

Never. So after things started to take off in Hong Kong, I decided I’d stay there and build my career there as much as possible. I loved the vibe of filmmaking there — it’s much more intimate, you have these passionate people from all walks of life, from blue-collar to highly educated types, all working very closely together. Hong Kong had accepted me, and frankly, I thought I was just going to stay there.

You didn’t think about trying to come back and make it in Hollywood?

I knew from growing up that they wouldn’t put my kind of people onscreen. There were no decent roles for Asians, much less Asian males. Even when Jackie Chan broke through over here and people fell in love with him, they weren’t really seeing him as this iconic, superstar actor — they were seeing him as this cute, funny oriental dude who spoke broken English and did acrobatic tricks. As an Asian American male, what they were in love with is everything you hate, you know?

When they were premiering 「Rush Hour 2」, Jackie invited all of the artists his company managed to come to L.A. for the premiere, and at the premiere party a producer came up to me and said, “Oh, you’re an actor in Hong Kong? But your English is amazing!” And I said, “Oh, I was born here.” “Oh, you’re not from Hong Kong?” And he lost interest in me as soon as he knew I was from America, not Asia. He bought into the stereotype that all Asians are foreigners, that we all speak with an accent.

Well, that’s pretty much the only way Asians were depicted in movies in the ’80s and ’90s.

I grew up with 「16 Candles」, 「Long Duk Dong」, that shit. That character, for our generation, pretty much sealed the idea for a lot of Americans that all Asian people are like that.

Which brings us to 「Into The Badlands」: Sunny is definitely not like that.

It’s a movie that takes place in America. There’s no reason for it. Our goal was to take the typical wuxia film and set it in a future America, giving it a kind of Southern gothic vibe. We wanted to replicate the basic structure — the feudal society, the epic battles, the themes of loyalty and honor — but to do it as a mashup with tropes that people would feel were weirdly familiar.

How did you get involved with the project?

Well, the genesis of project came when Stacey Sher, one of our executive producers, ran into the head of production of AMC [Jason Fisher] at the premiere for the movie 「The Man with the Iron Fists」 [Wu Tang Crew rapper RZA and Eli Roth’s homage to classic Chinese martial arts films]. He told her, “Why isn’t anyone doing this on TV? We should try it.” And because I’ve worked with Stacey before, she gave me a call and said, “AMC wants me to do this thing, but I have no idea how. You’ve done it before. Can you really do this kind of action for TV?” And I told her, “Only if you use a Hong Kong team.

Stephen Fung [an executive producer and the series’ fight director] and I wanted to reference everything we liked growing up. Late ’80s and ’90s Hong Kong action movies—Tsui Hark and Jet Li, Jackie Chan. Some old-school Shaw Brothers stuff. And anime, like 「Fist of the North Star. Samurai films like 「Shogun Assassin」, because we saw the two main characters, Sunny and M.K., as wandering through this world like 「Lone Wolf and Cub」. And of course Bruce Lee. In a lot of ways, we saw this as righting the wrong that occurred when Warner Brothers cast David Carradine over Bruce Lee in 「Kung Fu」.

Casting a white guy who didn’t know martial arts over the Chinese guy who was one of the greatest martial artists in the world.

Yeah. From the beginning, we said that Sunny had to be Asian, and to their credit, AMC was totally down with that.

But you weren’t thinking of taking the role yourself.

No, not at all. I had my producer’s hat on, and I told them we had to find someone in their 20s or 30s, because if this show goes on for five or six years, the amount of fighting that has to be done is incredible — you’d need someone in their physical peak. I’m 41 now. I’ve worked with Jackie Chan, and I’ve seen the injuries he’s had, the pain he’s in. I stopped doing martial arts films in Hong Kong years ago, because as much as I love the genre, I tore an ACL, I broke an ankle — I realized it was not sustainable. So strictly for the show’s sake, I told them we really needed to get a young guy to do this.

[But] as we worked on this and the pilot was written and the character got fleshed out, I really fell in love with it. I finally gave in. And then it was training, training, training — it was hell.

Looks like the training worked.

You want to have legitimate action, you have to commit. And we wanted people to be amazed by how kickass the action was. But that’s just the tip of the iceberg — we knew that the fight scenes are what would draw people in, but the layered complexities of the storytelling, even the spiritual aspect of the plot, we wanted those to be clearly expressed in the show as well.

By spiritual aspect, do you mean the elements drawn from Chinese mythology?

Yes, because the plot is loosely, very loosely, inspired by 「Journey to the West」, the story of the Monkey King, who’s this rebellious, ornery character that eventually transforms into a buddha by the end of the story. The Chinese name for the Monkey King is Sun Wukong — Sunny. And the journey of the title has Sun Wukong tasked with guiding a monk to retrieve the wisdom of enlightenment. M.K. stands for Monk. But the parallels don’t get any more literal than that. 「Journey to the West」 has been adapted so many times that we didn’t want to rehash it — we just wanted to give our story a solid spiritual core. Sunny and M.K. are on a quest to escape the Badlands to reach this legendary city called Azra. Well, originally the city’s name was Nirvana, but we thought that was a bit too obvious.

For a spiritual story, there are some pretty steamy scenes.

Yeah, the relationships are important to the story. And it felt especially important to show an Asian male as having a sensual side. We all know the story of 「Romeo Must Die」, how Jet Li is the movie’s hero, and the whole time you see this connection developing between him and Aaliyah, who played the female lead. And in the last scene, Li was supposed to kiss her, but when they showed the movie to test audiences, people said they found that disgusting. In the version they released, you just see them give each other a hug. So I don’t want to say this is groundbreaking, because we need to make this a success yet, but it’s cool that we were able to right that wrong too. It’s been 15 years since 「Romeo Must Die」, and 40 years since 「Kung Fu」. That’s just ridiculous. But it’s Hollywood, so I’ll take it.

Jeff Yang is a columnist for the Wall Street Journal Online and a regular contributor to CNN, NPR and Quartz, but is best known as Hudson Yang's father.




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Dong Mi Lee 「Q&A: Activist Heezy Yang」

Posted on November 24, 2015 commentaires
Heezy expresses daily injustice.

Photograph: Blair Kitchener

Unfortunately, many sexual minorities are forced to act a different way in order to hide their sexual preferences. Heezy Yang, however, is one young man who couldn’t care less about outside prejudices and strives to fight against the world in his own witty and artistic way. In this Q&A, Time Out Seoul wanted to find out – what exactly is the message he wants to deliver? By Jamie

How would you introduce yourself?

People call me an artist or an activist. I draw illustrations, take pictures and put on various performances here and there. It was never my intent, but doing what I can do with the talent that I have, in a field that I know best, doing the work that I want to do – I naturally ended up in the LGBT scene.

Does that mean you were an art major?

In high school, I studied really hard and got into business school. Being a normal student at a university made me wonder what I really wanted to pursue. Finally, in the end I left my school and decided to walk the path I’m now walking.

What made you start doing street performances?

An organization for teenage [sexual] minorities called Dding Dong was the beginning of my performances. It’s a queer community founded recently to help students who were being bullied at school or kicked out of the house for coming out of the closet. They need finances to keep the place running, but in my opinion, the deeper issue that we need to get to is changing the way people view the LGBT community. That’s how I came up with the performance, 「Unjustifiable」.

What’s 「Unjustifiable」?

It's a street performance that has been featured in Hongdae, City Hall, Myeongdong and other places where lots of people pass by. This performance is expressing the injustice of a child suffering when they are kicked out of their home because of their gender identity.

What gave you the inspiration for the piece?

I wanted to share this message in a friendly, approachable way instead of being all scary and dark. I was inspired by the scene in 「Toy Story」, when Andy throws away Woody because he’s going off to college. It’s my witty way of expressing how unfair it is to abandon a child because they are gay, similarly to how we might toss out a bunny doll because it’s missing an eye. At first, people passing by were worried some haters might attack me or curse at me, but thankfully most of them [have] enjoyed this performance. (If this were to happen in Utah or in a country like India, this story would’ve been featured in the 8 o’clock News and not in Time Out.)

On the other hand, it seems 「Peter」 is a street performance in which you hold Mickey Mouse, Pororo and a rubber duck drenched in what looks to be blood. The Mickey Mouse, Pororo and rubber duck doll represent childhood purity, while the blood expresses the scars that have been inflicted as we live in reality. How would you compare it to 「Unjustifiable」?

「Peter」 was inspired by the fairy tale, Peter Pan. The dolls I hold in my arms represent the purity of childhood and passion that I’m holding on to. The blood that’s splattered all over my body expresses the stress and anxiety that people feel. I had a period when I struggled with depression and panic disorders. Actually, I’m still being treated for it, and because this isn’t just an issue for queers and gays, 「Peter」 can reflect myself as well as anyone who is living in today’s society.

Is there a reason why you are more active in the foreigner gay community rather than the Korean one?

If I think about it now, at the time it was a form of escape. So many people would look at my actions with such prejudice and negativity (because I’ve even received threatening messages through the dating app, Jack’d). So naturally, I migrated over to the community where foreigners, Korean-Americans and artist friends would communicate with an open mind. But now that I feel more confident in what I do, I’m trying my best to spread the message to the Korean community as well!

Do you have any plans for 2016?

I want to exchange thoughts with more people in various kinds of fields. I’m aware of the hurdles I may need to jump over, but that shouldn’t stop me! It’s because I believe that small attempts made by an artist like me can make a big difference to those who are in need of help.

Author: Dong Mi Lee/Date: November 24, 2015/Source: http://www.timeout.com/seoul/lgbt/q-a-activist-heezy-yang


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Gavin Blair 「From Tokyo to Taipei, a growing acceptance for LGBT people」

Posted on November 22, 2015 commentaires
Revelers participate in a gay pride parade in Taipei, Taiwan, Oct. 31, 2015. Thousands took to the streets in support of gay pride in Taiwan last month. Chiang Ying-ying/AP

In a region imbued with the Confucian ideals of filial respect and saving face, the toughest battles are within families.

Tokyo – When it come to homosexuality, the Confucian cultures of East Asia can be quite conservative, though they don’t share the religious or moral objections of Judeo-Christian-Islamic countries.

But across a region becoming steadily more urban and cosmopolitan, lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people (LGBT) communities are experiencing a changes in attitudes and a greater legal recognition that echoes the trend in the West towards much greater acceptance of equality.

Last weekend some 80,000 people from around East Asia converged on Taipei for the Oct. 31 Taiwan Pride parade, the biggest such event in the region. It was followed by a record 10,000 marchers in the Hong Kong Pride Parade. In Japan, that same November evening saw the broadcast of 「Transit Girls」, the first TV drama here about a lesbian couple.

To be sure, for many LGBTs in a region imbued with the Confucian ideals of filial respect and saving face, the toughest battles remain within families. Still, the overall shift seems clear across this diverse region, and is partly due to the influence of the West, including the legalization of same-sex marriage in the US and Ireland. Local media portrayed these changes as a progressive trend that the rest of the world will inevitably follow.

Rising acceptance among Korean youth
Earlier this year, two districts of Tokyo announced they would issue same-sex marriage certificates; the first couple had their union recognized in Shibuya on Nov. 5. The certificates are not legally binding, but rather recommending a set of greater rights, such as visitation rights to same-sex partners in hospitals and nondiscriminatory treatment by realtors.

South Korea is something of an outlier in the region: Conservative evangelicals groups succeeded this summer in halting a gay pride parade in Seoul, even though the rest of the Korean Queer Culture Festival went ahead.

Still, among youth in Korea, 71 percent of those between 18 and 29 said “homosexuality should be accepted,” according to a Pew Research Center poll this year. That figure is just ahead of the equivalent among US youth, and fewer than the 83 percent of young Japanese who agreed.

The absence of overt gay-bashing or other strident opposition in most of East Asia may actually have slowed down the equality battle, some activists say. “There’s no violent discrimination against us here; nobody throwing stones or trying to kill us,” said Yuki, a gay Tokyoite who nevertheless asked to be identified only by his first name. “There’s never been a law against gays in Japan.”

“A lot of gay men in Japan would rather lead a double life,” Yuki added. “Many Japanese gay men went to Taipei to walk in the parade, but would be afraid to do so here.”

Yuki practices a form of “don’t ask, don’t tell” in his family. His mother has met his boyfriend numerous times, but he has never discussed his sexuality with her.

Masahiro Kikuchi (not his real name) has come out to his parents. But he has not yet confided to his older sister, whose reaction he worries about because she has two sons. Mr. Kikuchi works at a Japanese finance company, where he says it would be impossible to be openly gay.

“They showed a video earlier this year at my office to educate staff about gay issues. It told people to be aware there might be someone gay sitting next to you at work,” said Kikuchi. “I was sweating and just hoping nobody was looking at me.”

China documentary pulled from website
Societal and familial acceptance is a recurring theme for LGBT people. It’s also the subject of 「Mama Rainbow」, a 2012 documentary by Chinese filmmaker Fan Popo, focused on six mothers learning to love their gay children. The film was taken down from streaming sites in China last year, and Mr. Popo is suing the censors over its removal.

Attitudes in China are similar to the rest of the region, according to Popo, with no violent discrimination. But many people refuse to believe there are LGBT members in their family.

“But on LGBT issues, we are influenced more by the US than other East Asian countries. When same-sex marriage was legalized [in the US] it was big news in China, a lot of people changed their social media profiles to rainbows,” said Popo.

Nevertheless, Popo believes that an anti-discrimination law would be more powerful in China than legalization of same-sex marriage.

Across the sea in Taiwan, Jay Lin decided it was time to come out to his parents last year when he launched the Taiwan International Queer Film Festival. He had already lived for two decades as a gay man. Mr. Lin believes that changes in attitudes are more important than legal reform since without an accompanying change in social views it could bring a backlash.

“You need to allow people in families, in which it is so important to avoid shame in Chinese-Taiwanese culture, to come to terms with it,” Lin says. “If a lot of people are not out to parents ... gay marriage is not going to work,” said Lin.

He added that having begun to think about starting a family, the idea of doing so in Taiwan without the acceptance and involvement of parents and grandparents “is farcical.”



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Hana Beach 「‘Banana’ magazine shines a light on Asian creatives」

Posted on November 18, 2015 commentaires
Co-founders Vicki Ho and Kathleen Tso discuss media representation, Aziz Ansari, and what’s in store for issue two.

Cover Artist: Greg Foley

Growing up, Vicki Ho and Kathleen Tso didn’t have many celebrity role models that shared their racial identity. “Kaity Tong, the anchor from old school WB11 evening news. She was bae. Literally the only Asian on TV,” says Vicky. And, when Asians did get leading roles, they often played stereotypical nerds or exaggerated caricatures of their culture. The failure of Margaret Cho’s 1994 sitcom 「All American Girl」 to appeal to a broad American audience left a void of Asian-American representation in the media that ultimately drove Vicky and Kathleen to distance themselves from their Asian heritage. Though New York City and suburban Texas – where the girls lived as kids – are worlds away, Vicki and Kathleen’s similar experiences led them to create『Banana』, a magazine that focuses on being Asian and growing up in millennial America.

The release of『Banana』’s second issue this winter coincides with a breakthrough moment for Asian-Americans in popular culture. Aziz Ansari’s sitcom, 「Master Of None」, just hit Netflix and Eddie Huang’s loved/hated 「Fresh Off The Boat」 began its second season early this fall. The magazine serves the dual purpose of featuring Asian artists, chefs, actors and designers, and also creating a community of creative Asians.『Banana』is a place to embrace, appreciate, and celebrate, in Kathleen’s words, “bomb-ass Asians.”

How do you choose your subjects and contributors?

Kathleen Tso: We’ve had the luxury of a lot of these subjects coming to us. Since the community is equally as passionate as we are, we get amazing pitches all the time. We also reach out to people who are personally inspiring to us as well.

Vicki Ho: What’s special about『Banana』is that it showcases a slice of life that no one really sees in the Asian community – the creative class. So whether it’s who we profile or who contributes to the magazine, we look for talent that will help push this class into the limelight.

Who have you been most excited to feature?

KT: My mom! Stay tuned for issue two.

VH: Wilson Tang, the founder of Nom Wah Tea Parlor in NYC’s Chinatown, whom we profile in issue two. He’s a straight-up boss.

How represented (or not) are Asians in the media right now? And how is that changing, if at all?

KT: It’s pretty obvious that we’re not fully present in the media now. However, with shows like 「Fresh Off The Boat」 and now Aziz Ansari’s 「Master Of None」, we’re making progress.

VH: There’s progress. There are definitely more Asians in the media to look up to now than when we were growing up. The biggest change I see is that Asians who have a place in media don’t need to stick to stereotypes anymore; they can be themselves and their opinions and talent are respected across the board.

There were more models of color on the runway during this most recent New York Fashion Week than in past seasons – how represented do you feel Asian models are in fashion?

VH: I work in the fashion industry so, sure, I see better representation than before. I think runway shows like Made and V Files help push the envelope because they are so full of diversity and different perspectives. But on a national scale and on a consumer level? There’s a hell of a long way to go.

What can we expect from the second issue?

KT: A redesign, more thoughtful content and another fun cover! This may be a little biased, but my favorite feature was written by my sister. It’s about non-Asians hitting on Asian girls. It’s going to be accompanied by a comic illustrated by Louie Chin. It’s hilarious and way too true.

VH: I’m super psyched about our feature on fashion designer Sandy Liang. The images and collection are stunning, and the profile isn’t the typical “what’s your fall inspiration?” story. It’s about Sandy as a person, and as a first-generation Asian-American in this industry.

As first-generation Asian-Americans yourselves, how did you relate to your classmates growing up?

KT: I grew up in a predominantly white suburb in Texas so it was a challenge to relate to my peers. It’s sad but I attempted to shed ties with Chinese culture and focused on American culture to fit in as much as possible. I hated being different. I remember wishing that my name was “Katie Smith,” so I could just blend in. Or I wished that I had been raised in Taiwan (where my parents grew up) so I could feel “normal.” It bums me out that I had these thoughts.

VH: I had a different experience growing up but somehow came to the same struggles as Kathleen. I was raised in Brooklyn in a predominantly Asian community but all I wanted was to stand out from my peers. I also wanted to shed my Chinese culture at one point. I’m super pale and remember I used to lie to people that I was half white so that I could stand out and be “American.”

It was these stories of growing up that brought Kathleen and I together to create『Banana』. We were both so confused about accepting our culture growing up and only now as adults have we become truly appreciative and proud of it. Hopefully『Banana』can help other Asians come to this conclusion way quicker than we did.

You can pre-order the second issue here.

banana-mag.com

Credits
Text Hana Beach
Images courtesy『Banana』

Connect to i-D’s world! Like us on Facebook, follow us on Twitter and Instagram.

Author: Hana Beach/Date: November 18, 2015/Source: http://i-d.vice.com/en_us/article/banana-magazine-shines-a-light-on-asian-creatives



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Neon Bunny 야광토끼 「Romance In Seoul」

Posted on November 17, 2015 commentaires

Neon Bunny 「Romance In Seoul」 - released on November 17, 2015.

Inspired by Jazz greats Ella Fitzerald and Dinah Washington and their 1950's renditions of the song 「Manhattan」, Neon Bunny returns with single 「Romance In Seoul」. Hazy, windswept, elegant and dreaming, the track is a tangle of keys, strings, field recordings and feather-light vocals.

Released by Cascine's singles label, CSCN: http://cascine.us


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Margaret Cho 조모란 「(I Want To) Kill My Rapist」

Posted on November 10, 2015 commentaires

Margaret Cho 「(I Want To) Kill My Rapist」 - released on November 10, 2015.

Directed by Bryan Mir
Co-Director/DP, Ben Eisner
Produced by Briana Gonzales
Executive Producer, Margaret Cho
Assistant Director, Cue Denicki
Editing & Coloring, Betty Allen / Blend Studios
1st AC/Camera Op, Zach Salsman
2nd AC, Brian Glenn
DIT, Amber Nolan
Gaffer, Zafer Ulkucu
Best Boi Lighting, Brooks Heatherly
Grip, Ashley Layne
Grip, Carlos Camacho
Best Boi Grip, Marco Lopez
Makeup, Ashley Gomila
Hair, Irene U
Art Department, Elaine Carey
Ropes Course/Climbing Wall Instructor, Josh Lederach
Ropes Course/Climbing Wall Instructor, Brian Spiegel
Production Assistants: Abigail Eisner, Marcel Alcala

Starring: Margaret Cho, Hye Yun Park, Kate Willett, Selene Luna, Jackson Hurst, Arne Gjelten, Lisa McNeely, Emilia Black, Karen Barraza, Paris Bravo, Emma Wages, Stevie Knapp, Zoe McGaha, Melody Thi, Oceane Rico, Meadow Rico, Akyra Carter, Kimura Carlsten, Sophia Kasbaum, Otto Blackwelder.

Song Written by Margaret Cho, Andy Moraga, and Roger Rocha

Special Thank You to: Andy Moraga, Noelle and Harry Knapp, Kris McGaha, Eban Schletter, Bonnie Wages, Jessica Bravo, Kim Huynh, Christy Rico, Jody Taylor, Roxanne Carlsten, Surbhi Kasbaum, Net Suki, Robert Rivas, Sonny Echevarria, Brooks McCall, Andy Kimmelman, Monica Owen, Chris Neville, Kate Mullen, Stacy Hurst

Original Peony Art: J Bird

Muzak version of Kill My Rapist: Damian Valentine Music

FOR ROSE MCGOWAN


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HUSH 「Same」

Posted on October 30, 2015 commentaires

HUSH 「Same」【同一個答案】- released on October 30, 2015.

Avec cette vidéo très touchante et cette balade, le chanteur-auteur-compositeur taïwanais, HUSH, soutient le mariage gay. Il dit très justement :

“Marriage is not every gay’s choice, and not every gay wants to get married. Let marriage become everyone’s choice, because that’s why marriage equality worth-treasured.”

Les paroles en chinois et anglais :

生命裡潛藏著無數可能
回過頭看重複的日落
永無止盡地讓你做選擇
這一路上有幾片雲經過

親眼見過天空灑下彩虹
你一直是這樣相信著
在那裡會有真正的快樂
讓所有散落的心都結合

那多精采
就讓他們去猜
就讓我們愉快
有誰還能無視愛的存在
就伸出你的手來
擁抱你的愛

也許愛會被試探
也許愛有遺憾
也許那麼一天回想起來
我們都有同一個答案
There are many possibilities in life
Look back at the repeated sunsets
It makes you choose over and over
While some clouds float across the sky

You’ve also seen the rainbow in the sky
Firmly, you always have believed
The happiness is at the rainbow’s end
Let all the separated hearts be together

How wonderful it would be
Just keep them wondering
Just let us be gay
No one can ignore love
Just reach out with your hands
Embrace your love

Love might be tested
Love might be regretful
One day when we recall and question
Our answers will be the same


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Xu Guanyu 徐冠宇 「What It Means To Be Asian and Gay in the Western World」

Posted on October 29, 2015 commentaires
Xu Guanyu, Death In Bath Tub

Xu Guanyu is a 22 year-old originally from Beijing but currently based in Chicago, where he recently earned his BFA from The School of the Art Institute. In his series of photographs 「One Land to Another」, Guanyu uses a mix of self-portraiture and staged photography to hint at his condition as an Asian and a gay man living in the Western world.

Read below Guanyu’s project statement to better understand his ideas behind the pictures and for a more detailed analysis of the images:

My photo-based works are the expression that I have as a result of being a gay man and an Asian in the United States. I use self-portraits, staged imagery and landscapes to explore my struggle of being both a homosexual and a homophobic person. I question the norm set by the hegemony, including race, sexuality and ideology. Raised by a conservative family, a military father and a civil servant mother, I feared to admit that I was gay until I came to the United States in 2014. Fortunately, I grew up in the capital city of China where I had the chance to experience the global vision through the Internet. On the one hand, I learned knowledge of being a gay man, and received the representation from Hollywood movies that white people are ideal and superior in many ways. On the other hand, via the Internet, I witnessed the debates between the Chinese political and cultural ideology and the Western ideology led by the United States. Among these conversations, I found out that I have always been trying to seek and identify a better world, not only as a gay man, but also as a human being.

The self-portraits of my death not only expresses the inequality of gay men in this world, but also reveals my self-denial and self-hating in a problematic society, which includes both China and America.

My photographs of people that I find through online dating apps expose my current situation with other gay men in the States. I examine the racism and discrimination in the white-dominated gay community, the worship of masculine whiteness and the pervasive misogyny in the world. Furthermore, my landscapes of China and America document the paths to finding a utopian space. They juxtapose hope and apathy, which keep shifting back and forth along my changes of geographic location and psychological states. Through my photography practice, I use various subject matters to investigate my identity and interrogate the world.


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M.I.A. 「Borders」

Posted on October 27, 2015 commentaires

M.I.A. 「Borders」 - released on October 27, 2015.

Director: M.I.A.
Creative: M.I.A. and Tom Manaton

Music video by M.I.A. performing 「Borders」. (C) 2015 Maya Arulpragasam under exclusive license to Interscope Records


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f(x) 에프엑스 「4 Walls」

commentaires

f(x) 「4 Walls」 - released on October 27, 2015.



Et en bonus le remix de Nugu Who? :


f(x) 「4 Walls」 (Nugu Who? Remix) - posted on October 27, 2015.

f(x) 에프엑스
Official Website (South Korea): http://fx.smtown.com/
Official Website (Japan): http://www.fx-jp.jp/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/fx.smtown


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C. Winter Han 「Opinion: On sexual racism and the racial hierarchy of desire」

Posted on October 26, 2015 commentaires
By now, the debate around “sexual racism” is about as predictable as it is tragic. In popular parlance, “sexual racism” is defined as the act of excluding members of certain racial groups as potential sexual partners based only on their race or of fetishizing members of racial groups as the sexual “other,” whether it is through exclusion or preference. Whether one wants to see such exclusion and fetishization as “personal preference” or as an act of racism, what’s not debatable is that such actions are marked by explicitly racist language.

For example, for some gay white men, it isn’t enough to simply state that they are not attracted to men of color. Instead, they use the opportunity to state their “preferences” using racist logic and language. Comments such as “Squinty eye, no reply,” and “I don’t like Asians, I like big cocks,” or “Asians, prease reave me arone,” along with similar comments degrading black men and, to a lesser extent Latino men, are common on gay dating sites and apps. Rather than simply stating a racial preference, gay white men use these electronic spaces to actively denigrate men of color.

But sexual racism is more than simply excluding members of a racial group as potential sexual partners or fetishizing them when they are the object of sexual desires. In fact, whether one is sexually excited, or left frustratingly flaccid, by someone of another race is among the most trivial of concerns. What is important is that deeply embedded in those very stereotypes about sexual attractiveness and sexual prowess that lead to one’s seemingly “natural” sexual preferences is a very public distortion of the sexual worth of one group and the sexual bankruptcy of another.That has roots in the larger system of racial maligning of minority groups deployed by the dominant group, specifically for the purpose of promoting racial segregation. Thus, the erotics of race not only construct people of color as being sexually undesirable but socially undesirable as well. It is in the ability of sexual racism to hide, under the guise of “personal preference,” rather than be exposed as part and parcel of the larger system of racial oppression, which depends on constructing one race as fundamentally inferior to another, where the true danger lies.

But there’s a larger issue here. The problem with racial oppression is that it often depends on the active participation of those that it oppresses to maintain the validity of that oppression. When the oppressed act as agents of the oppressor by adopting their values, their beliefs, and – in this case – their racial hierarchy of desire, we give validity to that hierarchy and oppression. In fact, on the website BathhouseBlues, a white man responding to accusations of sexual racism specifically notes that “even Asians don’t find themselves attractive.” Thus such racist hierarchies of desire become “natural.” In the white imagination, if Asian men don’t even find other Asian men attractive, why should they? And if Asian men don’t even find other Asian men attractive, isn’t this just “natural”? Our compliance is used against us to justify their racist acts. On too many occasions, I’ve heard gay Asian men proclaim that they do not find other Asian men attractive. Rather than challenging sexual racism, gay Asian men’s sexual fantasies follow the same racist logic. And doing so, we lower our own worth and the worth of our gay Asian brothers.

Recently, many gay men of color have begun to challenge erotic preferences based on race. Many have done so despite accusations and insults by gay white men and other gay men of color who prefer white men. But that’s not enough. While pointing out the problem of sexual racism practiced by gay white men, we’ve not only ignored our own actions but have become actively confrontational to those who suggest that we address our own colonized mentality surrounding who is and isn’t attractive.

For example, a blog post on Angry Homosexual that suggested, tongue-in-cheek, that gay Asian men should stop dating white men was largely met with vitriol. The less caustic have suggested that the “problem” that needs to be addressed is gay white men’s racist attitudes, not our own. But this isn’t an issue of “this” or “that.” Challenging the racist actions of gay white men doesn’t preclude challenging our own beliefs and values. Similarly, racist acts won’t magically disappear if we all wake up tomorrow desiring each other instead of them.

But what is clear is that addressing one without addressing the other is pointless. Sexual racism portrays us as being less desirable as, and of less sexual and social worth, than white men. Our compliance justifies that portrayal. True social change will only come when we can collectively challenge our own beliefs and values, reflect on our own desires, and demand our sexual and social worth. Challenging ourselves is never easy, especially when it is so much easier to challenge others. But little good is ever found on easy street.

Winter Han is the author of『Geisha of a Different Kind: Race and Sexuality in Gaysian America』, published by NYU Press. Available on Amazon and anywhere else that great books are sold.

About the author: C. Winter Han
C. Winter Han is an assistant professor of Sociology in the department of Sociology and Anthropology at Middlebury College.

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Kathy Novak 「The problem with being gay in South Korea」

Posted on October 19, 2015 commentaires

Seoul, South Korea (CNN) – Micky Kim remembers the day two years ago when he married Tony Ruse in California.

“All the people from City Hall suddenly came out and congratulated us,” he recalls.

“People who I don’t know are congratulating our marriage. But in (South) Korea, no-one even knows my marriage and I couldn’t even tell my family.”

As far as Micky’s relatives know, Tony is just his business partner at their recording studio in Seoul, South Korea’s capital. When asked about his personal life at recent family event, Micky had his lines ready to go.

“It felt like I couldn’t breathe because now I had to suddenly pretend I’m a different person,” he recalls. “I put on this persona, and like ‘OK, I have a girlfriend and it’s been a year.’ I create these fake stories to cover up.”

He says he did the same thing when he worked as an intern at a major South Korean company.

“I went into the closet again because of work. Because my superiors are all (in their) 40s and 50s and they don’t really know what gay is, and I was afraid I might lose my job.”

Unfamiliarity
But now he’s decided to open up to help increase understanding and tolerance at home.

Unfamiliarity, he says, is part of the reason why South Korea can be a difficult place for people like him to be themselves.

He thinks many South Koreans see homosexuality as a foreign phenomenon – especially the older generation.

There are some prominent LGBT South Koreans, including film director Kim Jho Gwang-Soo, who is fighting in court to have his marriage to Kim Seung-Hwan recognized, but they are few and far between in popular culture.

A Pew Research Center study found that 57% of people surveyed find homosexuality unacceptable. Just 18% said it is acceptable.

“Generally you cannot say you are gay openly in South Korea, because South Korea is a very conservative country,” explains Kang Myeongjin, organizer of the Korea Queer Culture Festival.

“The worst thing is the rejection and isolation from belonging to a group, such as family, workplace, neighborhood, society and the country.”

Fierce opposition
The opposition to this year’s KQFC parade was so fierce, Kang and his team had to change the date.

Conservative protesters demonstrated against the public display of LGBT pride as sinful and a bad example to children.

Transgender counselor Edhi Park says children are running away from home and turning up at the DDing Dong LGBTQ Youth Crisis Support Center where she works.

“These adolescents don’t get any information from school or from their community, so they think they have contracted a disease,” she says.

The center has only been up and running for about a year, and is one of the few services available for LGBT youth.

Park believes LGBT issues should be taught more openly at South Korean schools.

“It is extremely important. For these adolescents, the only person to get hope from is their teacher, because teachers are in a neutral position,” she says.

Micky Kim remembers that feeling of confusion when he was a teenager.

“Because, OK, why am I like this?” he says he thought at the time. “I know no-one who’s like this. Maybe I’m crazy. I’m mentally sick... because you don’t know anybody who’s gay you think you’re the only crazy person. So I was very suicidal sometimes and very depressed.”

But he thinks the situation is getting better – slowly.

He believes the recent ruling in favor of marriage equality in the United States will help.

“Even though Korea is not very gay friendly... Korea likes to does whatever America does,” he laughs. “So I think they’re going to follow the trend.”

Or at least he hopes so.

Author: Kathy Novak/Date: October 19, 2015/Source: http://edition.cnn.com/2015/10/18/asia/south-korea-being-gay/

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Pierre-André Bizien 「Racisme anti-asiatique - entretien avec le rappeur Lee Djane」

Posted on October 18, 2015 commentaires
La question du racisme anti-asiatique est rarement posée dans notre société. Le fait s’explique avant tout par la faible représentation médiatique de la population concernée. Dans ce contexte, le rappeur Lee Djane a souhaité briser le silence avec un tube très musclé : 「Ils m’appellent chinois」.

Ce jeune artiste dérange un peu dans l’univers du rap, qui a comme partout ses codes de préséance et son aristocratie. En tout premier lieu, il faut remarquer que le flow de Lee Djane s’impose par ses scansions lentes et fluides, qui tournent le dos aux rythmes parfois trop écrasés des rappeurs ordinaires ; ici, la part du contenu philosophique prime sur la violence textuelle. L’agrément sonore est manifeste. On se prend à réécouter deux, trois, quatre fois le tube... pour éprouver plus finement ce qui se révèle, pour savourer chaque effet. L’audace de Lee Djane, sa volonté de faire bouger les lignes, c’est cela qui nous fait penser enfin : « Merde, ce type prend vraiment le rap au sérieux !»... tout simplement parce qu’il exploite jusqu’au bout la raison d’être de ce genre musical controversé.

Sans se contenter de « contester » le fonctionnement de la société, il pense cette dernière et en explore les mécanismes. C’est en cela que le rap est ici sublimé, qu’il atteint concrètement sa raison d’être. Les faits sont formels : gueuler pour gueuler est un écueil fréquent qui fait du rap un genre mal aimé de beaucoup de gens. Ici, clairement, on se retrouve face à un type qui offre à penser, à phosphorer, à suivre ses réflexions bien pesées. Il offre au genre une légitimité indiscutable. Le plus surprenant, dans tout ça, c’est que Lee Djane est tout nouveau dans le rap. Il y a déboulé très tard, mais il a su conquérir le respect des professionnels du secteur par son acharnement et son talent.

Examinons plus avant ce qui s’exprime dans 「Ils m’appellent chinois」 :

Le clip est filmé en noir et blanc, dans un univers périphérique monotone. La mélodie débute doucement, elle sécrète quelque chose de nostalgique, de triste. Lee Djane apparaît seul, très grave, vêtu d’un blouson noir. Il pose des paroles dures, pleines de colère, contre la ribambelle de surnoms qu’il endure depuis l’enfance : « chinois », « bol de riz », « Tching tchong », « citron »... Cette méchanceté gratuite l’interroge profondément. Comment réagir face à ce racisme tranquille, que tout le monde semble tolérer gentiment ?

Cette situation le dégoûte, et il tient à le faire savoir. Il « dépose » devant nous ce qui le blesse. À mesure que le clip avance, son dépit se transforme en haine et en rancœur ; bientôt, il se met à retourner les insultes et le mépris contre toutes les autres catégories de Français. C’est alors qu’intervient la lumière : une voix off l’extirpe de sa colère et le met face à ses contradictions. Pourquoi répondre à la haine par la haine ? Pourquoi s’insurger contre ce que l’on imite soi-même ? Alors Lee Djane s’éveille à un nouveau regard, plus serein, plus noble. Libéré. C’est magnifique, tout simplement bouleversant. 「Ils m’appellent chinois」 est un appel au respect mutuel, à l’humanisme et à la paix. Après son écoute, nous prenons conscience d’une réalité que nous ne soupçonnions pas. Il est temps de faire évoluer nos consciences.

Pourquoi notre jeunesse métissée, avide de respect, s’esclaffe-t-elle toujours en cœur dès qu’il est question de chambrer le chinois, ses nems et son accent nasillard ? La question du racisme anti asiatique, c’est un peu l’angle mort de l’humanisme hexagonal. En France, donc, certaines souffrances ne bénéficient pas de la même attention que les autres. Depuis trop longtemps, le roman national est gangréné par la concurrence des mémoires. Les jeunes d’origine asiatique sont trop souvent sacrifiés à l’hilarité générale pour éponger les ratés du vivre-ensemble. Pourquoi tant de mépris ? L’humoriste Kee Yoon Kim aime rappeler que dans les imaginaires français, l’Asie est constituée de deux seuls pays : Chine et Japon. Vous avez beau être Français jusqu’au bout des ongles, éventuellement parisien d’origine vietnamienne ou lyonnaise d’ascendance coréenne, pour le commun vous resterez toujours chinois...

ENTRETIEN
Milkipress : Lee Djane, ta présence dans l’univers du rap est une surprise ; étant donné tes origines, tu as décidé d’y apporter ta différence et tes réflexions philosophiques. Un rappeur asiatique en France, c’est plutôt rock’n roll pour l’imaginaire collectif... surtout lorsqu’il est question de penser la société à contre-courant d’un certain mainstream. Quelle est ton histoire ?

Lee Djane : Mes parents sont arrivés en France en 1982, sous l’ère Mitterrand. Ils fuyaient le Cambodge, encore tout fumant du génocide perpétré par les Khmers rouges. Leurs origines sont chinoises. Moi, je suis né ici, en France, et c’est là que j’ai tout reçu. C’est mon pays de cœur.

Milkipress : (durant l’interview, la question politique fut abordée) Tu es très sévère avec les politiques. Ne penses-tu pas qu’il est un peu illusoire de toujours tout attendre d'eux ?

Lee Djane : en France, la plupart des politiciens sont des cumulards qui se reproduisent et engraissent sur le système. Alors qu’ils devraient révolutionner les choses, ils préfèrent maintenir les réseaux d’injustice qui nous entravent et nous étouffent. Pourquoi ? Simplement par carriérisme. Plutôt que d’énoncer des vérités difficiles, ils préfèrent caresser les électeurs dans le sens du poil en flattant à tout va : « la banlieue c’est l’avenir », etc... Ce type de discours est tellement insuffisant ! La réalité des violences dans les quartiers populaires a longtemps été minorée pour des raisons peu avouables.

Milkipress : Peux-tu préciser ?

Lee Djane : Soit on se décide unis avec un destin commun, soit on vit dans le chacun pour soi. Il faut une France fraternelle où les Français seraient fiers du drapeau. Or les politiciens ont abandonné le patriotisme. Ils préfèrent faire avec les failles du système et en tirer profit. Je vois la mascarade... ce jeu de chamaille perpétuelle gauche-droite à l’Assemblée... La vie politique française est platement bipolaire, et non révolutionnaire. Le système écrase les petits partis, les voix utiles et indépendantes. Les grosses machines écrasent tout.

Milkipress : Penchons-nous sur le message que tu délivres dans 「Ils m'appellent chinois」 (ton seul clip, comme tu le précises) : ce morceau, très engagé, décrit de manière très crue les clichés et les stéréotypes qu’endurent chaque jour les asiatiques. La réflexion philosophique que tu déploies au travers de tes couplets énonce quelque chose de fort, et complexe. Peux-tu nous éclairer ?

Lee Djane : à la base, je pose le problème sous la forme d’une simple question : « Les gens sont-ils stupides, ignorants ou maladroits ?» Le racisme ordinaire résulte du va et vient continuel entre ces trois déficiences. Elles nous guettent tous, nous surprennent à notre insu. Car le racisme n’a rien à voir avec cette monstruosité grossière et monolithique dont on nous gave ; c’est quelque chose de plus subtil, de plus diffus, quelque chose qui agit à plus ou moins basse intensité... et qui pourrit bien plus, au final, que ces invectives caricaturales (« sale arabe », « sale nègre »...).

Milkipress : Comment les asiatiques vivent-ils le racisme dont ils font l’objet ?

Lee Djane : Les asiatiques ne sont pas très plaintifs à la base. Ils sont pragmatiques. On dit souvent que nous sommes sournois, qu’on ne dit rien directement... C’est un peu vrai quelque part. « Blaguer sur nous c’est trop facile », car nous ne choisissons pas la confrontation directe et frontale. Les gens ont l’impression qu’ils peuvent tout se permettre. Le problème, c’est que nous n’oublions pas ce que nous entendons, et que ça ressurgit tout de même d’une façon ou d’une autre. Le plus effrayant, c’est le fait que lorsqu’on se moque d’un asiatique, on ajoute toujours spontanément que c’est juste « pour rire ». Or, jamais on ne se permettrait de traiter avec le même mépris un jeune noir ou un jeune arabe, à moins de sciemment « chercher la merde ». Ce qui fait le plus mal, dans le racisme anti-asiatique, je l’ai exprimé dans cette rime :

On a parfois l’impression que la France de ladite « diversité » nous a totalement oubliés de son agenda. Il suffit de regarder notre représentativité au sein des médias : à part Frédéric Chau et quelques rares personnalités, les français d’origine asiatique sont globalement invisibles dans l’univers d’identification des jeunes. Du coup, personne ne les prend pour référence, et ce malgré leurs talents. Des fourmis anonymes... c’est peut-être ça, l’étiquette qu’on nous assigne ici. À nous de changer les choses.

Milkipress : Dans ce contexte morose et médiocre, tu as choisi de dénoncer le racisme que subissent au quotidien les asiatiques de France, mais tu veilles à ne pas t’arrêter à ce constat... pour ne pas tomber dans le piège communautaire.

Lee Djane : Je n’éprouve pas énormément de racisme contre moi au quotidien. C’est plutôt quelque chose de diffus, et surtout de généralisé. Le racisme, je l’ai vécu de la part de toutes les composantes de la France Black-blanc-beur, ce qui m’a permis de relativiser : avant que de dénoncer telle ou telle communauté, j’ai pu constater que c’est avant tout l’humain qui est exposé à la tentation du racisme... toi, moi, chacun d’entre nous. Victimes et coupables s’entremêlent, ce qu’ont du mal à admettre les grosses machines antiracistes : il y a toujours du clientélisme, des dominantes identitaires implicites, ici ou là. Dès lors, elles empêchent l’antiracisme revendiqué d’être clairement universel... et à cause de cela, nous en sommes encore au stade de l’antiracisme de niches.

Milkipress : Que penses-tu des explications traditionnelles du racisme en France ?

Lee Djane : Ce ne sont pas les blancs seulement qui sont racistes, comme on l’entend trop souvent. Lorsqu’on parle du racisme des blancs, on en fait des romans, des volumes... En fait, les hommes blancs vont prochainement disparaître dans le monde. C’est une simple logique démographique. D’ici 200-300 ans, ils ressembleront aux Amérindiens en voie d’extinction. Si l’homme blanc va bientôt disparaître, c’est à cause de sa naïveté, de son manque de fermeté, de son auto-culpabilisation permanente ; au fond, il pense qu’il a commis tous les malheurs du monde. Il suffit pourtant de regarder le passé de notre planète : au cours de l’histoire, les chinois Han ont massacré des millions de personnes... Les blancs n’ont rien à voir avec la plupart de ces massacres qui ravagent la planète. Pourtant, ils se perçoivent toujours comme coupables du malheur de tous les hommes... et c’est cela qui les perdra. Dans quelques siècles, l’humanité sera partagée en trois grandes familles : noirs, asiatiques et métisses. Les blancs constitueront alors une infime minorité, marginalisée.

Milkipress : Au final, comment traiter le racisme diffus qui gangrène notre société ?

Lee Djane : Une amorce de réponse réside dans cette strophe : « J’pense que c’est dans les moments de faiblesse où l’ignorance prend le dessus sur nous ». Si l’on parvient à éviter de nous retrouver en posture de faiblesse, si l’on parvient à demeurer forts ensemble, Nietzschéens, volontaires, conquérants, nous éloignerons de nous l’ignorance, qui est autre chose qu’une simple déficience intellectuelle. Il faut avant tout réfléchir, méditer tout cela, nous maintenir en tension, préparer des révolutions... pour le bien de tous.

Propos recueillis par Pierre-André Bizien




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