New York City has the largest and oldest Chinatown outside of Asia, extending well beyond what a lot of New Yorkers—let alone tourists—know. Photographer Annie Ling was living in one of Chinatown’s tenements in 2009 when a fire in the building left her and many others homeless. Now she revisits various low-income housing in Chinatown to spend time with her subjects and tell their (and her own) story through a medium format film camera. With 100 photographs in four series titled "Tenements," "81 Bowery," "A Floating Population," and "Shut-Ins," her works show the occupants’ daily life in a way that is simultaneously bleak and beautiful.
In "A Floating Population," Ling takes photographs of the exterior of the rooms. Lingering in hallways, rooftops, staircases and the streets the series show the interplay of private and public life of the residents. For them, their neighbors are like a second family. The lack of space in the rooms pushes activity out to the hallways, fostering the strong communal spirit in the buildings. Many also share meals with their neighbors to make up for absent families. The subject of "Mr. Chu of Cubicle #4" is not alone in his solitude--like many other Chinese immigrant laborers he sends the majority of his paycheck to his family in China, losing out on years of day-to-day relationship with them. “You’re the same age as my daughter...I haven’t seen her in 16 years,” he told Ling.
One of the most memorable shots from this series is in Cubicle #4, where a bird’s-eye view above the small space shows four workers sitting around a table sharing a late dinner. Though the setting seems cozy, upon closer examination one would notice the chopping board that rests on a waist-high fridge and cooking sauces that find room next to a box TV, which is nestled on a narrow shelf on the wall. The dining table is covered almost entirely by only four dishes. In the corner of the photograph we glimpse Mr Chu’s lofted bed, completing the entirety of his home in this single shot.
These SRO (Single Room Occupancy) cubicles have no ceiling and measure only 64-square-feet each, serving the function of bedroom, kitchen, and dining space all at once. In one photograph it almost looks like a Bushwick artists’ loft, but in another, we can see the top of a woman's head as she stands inside her apartment, exemplifying the incredible lack of space and privacy.
The square portraits Ling chooses seem to echo the box-like atmosphere of these housing situations and their occupants—cramped and a little suffocating, but not without the warmth of such close quarters. There have been almost 125 rezonings across New York City and many are experiencing neighborhood transformation in an immediate way. Some complain about gentrification swallowing up culture and character while others welcome the influx of businesses and population. For Ling’s subjects, it’s merely about making their special living circumstances work.
Through April 13, 2014
MUSEUM OF CHINESE IN AMERICA
215 Centre St
New York, NY 10013
Map
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Mr Chu of Cubicle #4
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Workers enjoy a meal together in a cubicle
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In "A Floating Population," Ling takes photographs of the exterior of the rooms. Lingering in hallways, rooftops, staircases and the streets the series show the interplay of private and public life of the residents. For them, their neighbors are like a second family. The lack of space in the rooms pushes activity out to the hallways, fostering the strong communal spirit in the buildings. Many also share meals with their neighbors to make up for absent families. The subject of "Mr. Chu of Cubicle #4" is not alone in his solitude--like many other Chinese immigrant laborers he sends the majority of his paycheck to his family in China, losing out on years of day-to-day relationship with them. “You’re the same age as my daughter...I haven’t seen her in 16 years,” he told Ling.
One of the most memorable shots from this series is in Cubicle #4, where a bird’s-eye view above the small space shows four workers sitting around a table sharing a late dinner. Though the setting seems cozy, upon closer examination one would notice the chopping board that rests on a waist-high fridge and cooking sauces that find room next to a box TV, which is nestled on a narrow shelf on the wall. The dining table is covered almost entirely by only four dishes. In the corner of the photograph we glimpse Mr Chu’s lofted bed, completing the entirety of his home in this single shot.
These SRO (Single Room Occupancy) cubicles have no ceiling and measure only 64-square-feet each, serving the function of bedroom, kitchen, and dining space all at once. In one photograph it almost looks like a Bushwick artists’ loft, but in another, we can see the top of a woman's head as she stands inside her apartment, exemplifying the incredible lack of space and privacy.
The square portraits Ling chooses seem to echo the box-like atmosphere of these housing situations and their occupants—cramped and a little suffocating, but not without the warmth of such close quarters. There have been almost 125 rezonings across New York City and many are experiencing neighborhood transformation in an immediate way. Some complain about gentrification swallowing up culture and character while others welcome the influx of businesses and population. For Ling’s subjects, it’s merely about making their special living circumstances work.
Through April 13, 2014
MUSEUM OF CHINESE IN AMERICA
215 Centre St
New York, NY 10013
Map
Mr Chu of Cubicle #4
Workers enjoy a meal together in a cubicle