Remind Me Tomorrow
Sammy Lee: Remind Me Tomorrow
Emmanuel Art Gallery
1205 10th Street Plaza, Denver, CO 80204
May 25-July 15, 2021
Admission: Free, open by appointment
Review by Olivia Kayang
In her solo exhibition titled Remind Me Tomorrow, Denver-based artist Sammy Lee celebrates cultural heritage, motherhood, and immigrant experiences. The exhibit is on view at the Emmanuel Art Gallery on the Auraria Campus through mid-July and with it the artist has the express purpose of encouraging peace in our communities—particularly in light of recent and historic violence against Asian Americans. Curated by Jeff Lambson, Remind Me Tomorrow features a selection of work created by Lee over the span of nearly a decade.
A view of the first floor of Sammy Lee’s solo exhibition Remind Me Tomorrow at the Emmanuel Art Gallery. Image by Olivia Kayang.
Sammy Lee was born in Seoul, South Korea and moved to the U.S. at age 16. In the 30 years she has lived in this country, Lee has made a career out of her art practice with national and international exhibitions as well as exhibiting locally at venues such as the Denver Art Museum, RedLine, and Space Gallery. She is well-known for creating “paper skin”—a material made by felting moistened paper until it becomes malleable and attains the wrinkled texture of skin. Lee manipulates the paper skin to create many of the sculptures included in Remind Me Tomorrow. I was fortunate to speak to the artist about some of her work during my time at the gallery.
Top image: Sammy Lee, In(de)finite Reflections, 2021, mirrors. Bottom image: the author looking into the yellow-tinted “HERE” mirror of In(de)finite Reflections. Images by Olivia Kayang.
The first two artworks I encountered address immigrant experiences directly. In(de)finite Reflections comprises two mirrors facing each other, each hung on one of the gallery’s 6-foot movable walls that form a gateway or a portal into the exhibition. I was overwhelmed when I stepped through the portal and saw my reflection repeated infinitely in the mirrors. I seemed to be in several places and in a single place simultaneously. By naming the mirrors Here and Seoul, Lee attempts to convey the experience of belonging to a culture yet feeling disconnected from it.
Sammy Lee, Arrived, ongoing since 2016, paper skin and styrofoam molds. Image by Olivia Kayang.
Arrived, the second artwork, is displayed a few feet from In(de)finite Reflections. Arrived is an ongoing work consisting of suitcases wrapped in black paper skin. When I first saw this installation three years ago at RedLine, there were six suitcases of different sizes arranged on the floor. Now the piece is made up of ten suitcases stacked from floor to ceiling, giving the illusion of a tower that extends into the sky. As I circumambulated the tower, I wondered how many people, like myself, live out of suitcases, never completely settling in one place.
Several of Lee’s works look at the intersection of motherhood and female subjectivity. Among these are Mamabot, Chandelier, and Changing Station, which occupy the center of the hall.
Sammy Lee, Mamabot, 2020, paper skin, photographs with frames, plungers, and feathers. Image by Olivia Kayang
Mamabot, hanging on the right wall, is constructed from framed photographs that are arranged to look like a robot and covered in black paper skin. The skin is riddled with holes that show glimpses of baby pictures underneath. “It’s all torn and what’s inside is really private...photos of my children. I relate these [tears] to scars,” said Lee. The sculpture is topped with a feather headdress which makes Mamabot look “heroic, like a robot rescuing everything.” Lee explained, “Mamabot implies a loss of femininity. I feel like I am experiencing that, as a mother, my femininity is fading. You have to be stronger.”
Sammy Lee, Chandelier, 2021, paper skin and styrofoam molds. Image by Olivia Kayang
As the title suggests, Chandelier takes the form of a chandelier, but that is where the similarities end. The artwork is not suspended but sits on the floor and is covered in black paper skin that absorbs light instead of radiating it. A plant form creeps up the “bulbs” of the sculpture. “Chandelier is the antithesis of Mamabot,” remarks Lee. “There is no sense of light: moss grows where there is no light. That’s not what a chandelier is about. So this is not the crown jewel of the domestic space, of the dining room. It’s the opposite.”
Sammy Lee, Changing Station, 2019, conveyor belt, baby onesies, baby mobiles, and crystals. Image by Olivia Kayang.
Changing Station is a reproduction of an industrial conveyor belt carrying diapers and baby onesies made from stiffened tissue. The red frame of the conveyor contrasts starkly with Mamabot and Chandelier. Changing Station was first shown at the Black Cube Headquarters as part of an exhibition titled The Fulfillment Center, in which artists highlighted consumerist culture in the digital age. This artwork shows how choosing machine efficiency can make intimate acts, like changing a baby’s diaper, seem impersonal.
Sammy Lee, Street Art Cart, ongoing since 2018, constructed cart with paper skin table settings, dishes, art catalogues, and various sculptural objects on display. Image by Olivia Kayang.
The focal point of the show, situated at the back of the gallery, is Street Art Cart. Inspired by food carts in South Korea, Lee created her own cart to sell her art. Her wares include paper skin bowls, paper fish-shaped cakes known as “bungeoppang” in Korean, and miniature art catalogues. The paper bowls are from an ongoing series, A Very Proper Table Setting, in which Lee invites participants to set the table for their preferred meal using only traditional Korean tableware. She then wraps the dishes in moistened paper skin which assumes the shape of the bowls when dry.
Sammy Lee, A Very Proper Table Setting, ongoing since 2017, paper skin casts shown hanging on Street Art Cart. Image by Olivia Kayang.
“I realize we are living in a difficult time,” said Lee as we talked about participants demonstrating differences in cultures as they create their table arrangements. “The ability to empathize is really important, so I’m hoping that this will give people a chance to connect with each other a little bit. In other places where I’ve shown this work, people are usually nice and ask ‘what is this for?’ or they ask for permission before they carelessly culturally appropriate.”
When I asked what she wants people, especially those not of Asian descent, to take away from the exhibition, Lee responded, “Living through 2020, we all learned that solidarity is important. And Asia is really big just like Europe is big. East Asians especially have been attacked for COVID-19 because people blame China for it. [With A Very Proper Table Setting] I brought not just tableware for an Asian meal but a very specific Korean meal to show that you cannot just lump all Asians together because it is convenient, in order to hurt people.”
“I think art is powerful,” Lee continued, “because I am using it in a way that is not intended to offend but to encourage us to learn about each other and embrace our differences. It is an opportunity to create positive experiences in our community.”
Indeed, I learned a lot about Lee’s cultural heritage and I discovered that we had many similarities, like our multicultural upbringing. Remind Me Tomorrow also serves as an avenue to continue discussions about discrimination against Asian Americans and to learn more about their heritage even after Asian American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month comes to a close.
Olivia Kayang is a multimedia artist and creative writer living in Denver, Colorado. She is currently working towards earning her Bachelor of Arts degree in Studio Art and Mathematics from the University of Denver.
