5 Questions with Jennifer Cheuk
Jennifer Cheuk is a researcher, editor and curator. She is the founder of Rat World magazine, a research archivist for Satellites’ Aotearoa Asian Arts Archive, and is highly involved in the theatre community as a reviewer.
Jennifer is passionate about community arts practices, alternative forms of storytelling, and curating more accessible spaces for people to experience arts and writing. She has previously worked as the Guest Curator for the New Zealand Young Writers Festival and the Programme Manager for the Auckland Writers Festival.
(Credit: Aidan Dayvyd)
No.1
In the editor’s note that opens Everything That Moves, Moves Through Another, you write that the driving force behind the anthology—consisting art and writing from more than twenty mixed-heritage people from rural and urban Aotearoa—is to create a work ‘that can both celebrate the experiences of mixed-heritage people in Aotearoa, whilst also being a point of connection and community-building’. What did you learn from the experience of putting this book together?
We talk about representation a lot in film, TV, literature, and while I am all for this, I think we sometimes forget about representation on a smaller scale: within the groups of people we see everyday and the communities we engage with locally. Working on Everything That Moves, Moves Through Another really solidified to me how much print publishing can build tangible connections, and how important it is to build community through art.
A couple of months into the process of Everything That Moves, Moves Through Another, one of the contributors asked if they would be able to meet the other twenty-seven artists before the book was published. I hadn’t thought about this, and wasn’t sure if people would be interested. I put out a tentative invite for an online meet-up where people could talk about their practice and what they were working on for the publication. I didn’t really know how it would go, [since] this was an optional video call on a Sunday evening.
Almost everyone showed up—even our publishers, 5ever Books, were there. I was blown away. Immediately afterwards, I received emails asking when we could do this again. For many contributors, this was the first time they had been in a room with other mixed-heritage creatives. At our launch party in May, an artist came up to me and said she had never felt she belonged anywhere until this moment. I looked around and realized that I, too, had never been surrounded by so many people who understood the experience of being mixed. As I say in my editor’s note: ‘what a wonderful feeling to be understood without ever needing to explain anything’.
I think this experience of building community in real-time really impacted me. We weren’t just showcasing the work of mixed-heritage creatives; we were facilitating a space for people to connect and talk and build relationships. To celebrate the work of underrepresented communities is important, but to create points of connection and community is necessary.
No.2
The art and writing in Everything That Moves, Moves Through Another was selected through an open call for submissions. What was behind the decision-making process in terms of selecting the work that went into the anthology, apart from the fact that they had to be created by mixed-heritage people?
It was really important to both myself and the wider editorial team that we showcase the breadth of mixed-heritage identities and experiences that exist in Aotearoa. This meant selecting work that challenged our own personal tastes and identities. Being mixed Hong Kong Chinese, I was aware that I would have a natural interest in stories that explored this particular heritage. Therefore, the decision-making process was done collaboratively with Damien Levi and Eric Soakai—who not only brought different cultural perspectives to the work, but also expertise in different creative forms. We wanted to make sure that previously underrepresented arts practices, cultural heritages and stories were being platformed, and selections were made with this in mind. For example, comics are often overlooked in anthologies (and literary publication in general), so I made a conscious effort to ensure visual narrative works were present in Everything That Moves, Moves Through Another.
Furthermore, we avoided selecting works solely based on artistic experience, and were rather interested in the idea and drive behind a contributor pitch. Having an open call for submissions was necessary to ensure we were not missing potential artists due to barriers of entry and perceived levels of experience. There is so much embedded elitism in publishing and arts scenes, so we wanted to platform both emerging and experienced creatives alongside each other.
No.3
What common themes did you notice throughout the selected work? How did you think the forms of expression—as well as experiences—differ from each other?
Lineage, whakapapa and genealogy were a really prominent interest for many contributors. If you look through the publication, you can see a common thread of archival images and family photos appearing in people’s works. It’s so special to be invited into these personal stories, and I feel like it gives a different perspective to this question around identity: how are our experiences connected with (or disconnected from) each other through history and memory? Can we ever disentangle ourselves from our ancestors? I find the existential largeness of these questions to be really beautiful.
But the publication truly is incredibly varied. There were very little constraints for contributors and everyone was encouraged to create work in whatever form, shape, size they felt was needed. Even technical guidelines around font and stylistics were very minimal—‘high quality jpeg’ was the most that we enforced. It was always very important to give contributors utmost creative freedom in this project. Because of this, the forms of expression and experiences differ markedly from each other. But that’s the point. Everything That Moves, Moves Through Another is meant to challenge our expectations about what it means to be mixed-heritage and showcase the breadth of identities, lives, stories, languages, heritages that exist in this community.
No.4
In the editor’s note, you write that you ‘found’ your way in the Aotearoa independent arts scene in 2022. Would you like to tell us a little bit about your artistic trajectory?
I started out really angry at the arts scene. Everyone seemed to already know each other. They knew what to say and how to make contacts, and I felt like I was watching from the outside. Maybe that’s why my first foray into the arts industry was as a theatre reviewer.
I think reviewing really shaped my perspective of creative work and I owe a lot to those stress-fueled, 24-hour-turnaround articles. You really learn how to articulate your thoughts and investigate what makes a piece of art what it is. But after two years of reviewing, the pandemic happened. Performances were canceled and I didn’t know what to do. Like everyone else in lockdowns, I lost my way. My anger at the arts scene became conflated with anger at arts in general, and I decided to give up the whole endeavour completely. At one point, I even convinced myself I could go back to university and study computer science. This did not end well.
In 2022, I emerged with the realisation that I loved art but I hated the arts scene. Why were there so many amazing creatives, musicians, performers, writers, artists who kept going unnoticed? Why do I see praise for the same names, over and over again? So, I started Rat World—an independent print magazine to showcase underground and underrepresented voices that are not often given space in the publishing world. I had been collecting print magazines and indie publications since a child, so it only seemed fitting that I show my love for these artists in the print medium.
Truthfully, I didn’t expect anything from Rat World. But it somehow grew from a 66-page zine to a 100-page professionally printed and distributed magazine in just two years. We started putting on workshops and poetry performances, and it felt like we were a little less alone in the arts scene. Everyday, I feel so grateful for the support we have received since starting Rat World.
But I also have a bit of trouble committing to one thing. So my artistic trajectory also consists of: deciding to go from theatre reviewer to theatre-maker, realising I didn’t like making theatre, trying to write a performance art piece, making zines, curating arts festivals, advocating for alternative forms of storytelling, and writing a lot about being mixed (ironically).
No.5
What other mixed-race heritage creatives do you find inspiring, whether in Aotearoa or the wider world?
I love the music of Aotearoa-based sibling duo, Ersha Island 二沙岛. They really capture that sense of being caught in between different languages, cultures, and lands, and the tension we often face within these contrasting experiences too. I also really enjoy Tai Nimo’s artwork—she creates these beautiful, bold digital artworks that reflect her culturally diverse heritage and identity.
Shaun Tan has been a huge inspiration since I was very young, and I only recently discovered that he is also mixed! His work has always deeply impacted me, and I would thoroughly recommend checking out The Arrival if you haven’t before.
Find out more
EVERYTHING THAT MOVES, MOVES THROUGH ANOTHER is a landmark anthology that brings together the creative work of twenty-seven mixed-heritage creatives from across Aotearoa.
Weaving together a range of artistic mediums and giving space to both emerging and experienced creatives, this anthology lays the groundwork for deeper and more empathetic conversations around the experience of mixed-heritage individuals.
Through an open call for contributors in 2023, this publication was created in response to the lack of authentic representation for biracial, mixed-heritage and multi-ethnic individuals living in Aotearoa. Everything That Moves, Moves Through Another features photography, comics, essays, poetry and multimedia art.
Get it from 5ever Books here.