A Pilgrimage and the Hmong Migration
From 11 April
The Minneapolis Institute of Art has regularly been one of my places of pilgrimage whenever I'm in the Twin Cities. During college it was a place of respite from the sea of words that surrounded me, its images and objects inspiring both my work in the classroom and on the stage. In later years it fed my global yearnings, first through the African gallery and, more recently, through the collections dedicated to the arts of Asia. As happened this April, even on the bleakest and sloppiest of Minnesota days, the MIA is a place that I can return to, time and again, to have my imagination stoked and my curiosity piqued.
When I arrived in Minnesota after a great congregational visit in Northwestern Wisconsin, winter was receding as the last few piles of snow melted away. In the Quaking Bog at Theodore Wirth Park and the streets of the Longfellow neighborhood, the air was filled with the damp, earthy excitement that announces that Spring has (finally) sprung - or so my friends and I thought. Two days later, as gray-skies rolled in and rain gave way to sleet, we realized just how wrong we were. As the streets turned to slush, I beat it for the MIA and -in an entirely unexpected move- found myself rocketed back across the planet to my new home and work in Southeast Asia.
In a new-to-me Contemporary Art gallery I came across a 50-panel composition by Minnesota artist (and former DFL-Legislator) Cy Thao. Painted in a style reminiscent of traditional 'story cloths', this work seeks to depict the entire arc of the Hmong people's history - from their origin in China and wanderings in the highlands of Southeast Asia to their exile in Thai refugee camps and eventual resettlement in the United States. The panels are, at times, both life-affirming and heartbreaking. By pairing the images with descriptive texts, Thao, "wants the series to educate the younger generation, to have closure with the generation that went through war, and hopefully become a historical document for generations to come." While I knew a little about the story of the Hmong before viewing "The Hmong Migration", to see it presented in such a visual/visceral manner was an incredibly powerful experience.*
An unexpected encounter with a work of art in Minnesota rekindled my interest in people on the move and the connections that exist between seemingly disparate parts of the globe. It struck a chord with what I have seen and heard during my time in Southeast Asia. It made me want to learn more about the different way-stations depicted in Thao's narrative - from their highland homelands through places of transit and on to 'final' destinations.
With an eye to Diakonia and the Church's work in the world, it renewed an interest in different ministries and agencies that are found along the way (places like New Life Center in Chiang Mai, Seafarers Ministries in Singapore, and Lutheran Immigration and Refugee Services in the United States) and a desire to see what linkages, if any, exist between them. I'm curious about the "spirals of despair" and narratives of hope that each bears witness to - are there themes and experiences that resonate across space and time? I found myself wonder how those who are 'settled' might best accompany people on the move, and likewise, what those on the move might be able to teach those who stay put. Where might our stories - our histories- intertwine and overlap?
And the academic wheels in the back of my mind begin to turn . . . again.
*If you can't make it to the MIA, or are interested in learning more, the entire collection and accompanying texts can be viewed online through the University of Minnesota's Center for Holocaust and Genocide Studies. In my opinion it is well worth exploring - especially for those who know little about the experience of more recent immigrants and refugees who have come to the United States.
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| 'The Hmong Migration' by Cy Thao at the Minneapolis Institute of Art - April 2013 |
When I arrived in Minnesota after a great congregational visit in Northwestern Wisconsin, winter was receding as the last few piles of snow melted away. In the Quaking Bog at Theodore Wirth Park and the streets of the Longfellow neighborhood, the air was filled with the damp, earthy excitement that announces that Spring has (finally) sprung - or so my friends and I thought. Two days later, as gray-skies rolled in and rain gave way to sleet, we realized just how wrong we were. As the streets turned to slush, I beat it for the MIA and -in an entirely unexpected move- found myself rocketed back across the planet to my new home and work in Southeast Asia.
In a new-to-me Contemporary Art gallery I came across a 50-panel composition by Minnesota artist (and former DFL-Legislator) Cy Thao. Painted in a style reminiscent of traditional 'story cloths', this work seeks to depict the entire arc of the Hmong people's history - from their origin in China and wanderings in the highlands of Southeast Asia to their exile in Thai refugee camps and eventual resettlement in the United States. The panels are, at times, both life-affirming and heartbreaking. By pairing the images with descriptive texts, Thao, "wants the series to educate the younger generation, to have closure with the generation that went through war, and hopefully become a historical document for generations to come." While I knew a little about the story of the Hmong before viewing "The Hmong Migration", to see it presented in such a visual/visceral manner was an incredibly powerful experience.*
An unexpected encounter with a work of art in Minnesota rekindled my interest in people on the move and the connections that exist between seemingly disparate parts of the globe. It struck a chord with what I have seen and heard during my time in Southeast Asia. It made me want to learn more about the different way-stations depicted in Thao's narrative - from their highland homelands through places of transit and on to 'final' destinations.
With an eye to Diakonia and the Church's work in the world, it renewed an interest in different ministries and agencies that are found along the way (places like New Life Center in Chiang Mai, Seafarers Ministries in Singapore, and Lutheran Immigration and Refugee Services in the United States) and a desire to see what linkages, if any, exist between them. I'm curious about the "spirals of despair" and narratives of hope that each bears witness to - are there themes and experiences that resonate across space and time? I found myself wonder how those who are 'settled' might best accompany people on the move, and likewise, what those on the move might be able to teach those who stay put. Where might our stories - our histories- intertwine and overlap?
And the academic wheels in the back of my mind begin to turn . . . again.
*If you can't make it to the MIA, or are interested in learning more, the entire collection and accompanying texts can be viewed online through the University of Minnesota's Center for Holocaust and Genocide Studies. In my opinion it is well worth exploring - especially for those who know little about the experience of more recent immigrants and refugees who have come to the United States.
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