Migration In Dialogue – Morrison Gong

Short hair Asian photographer squatting in front of her work, wearing tank top and tie dye pants.

Morrison Gong's studio selfie. Courtesy of the artist.

Morrison Gong’s artistic practice explores the body and its carnal pleasures, using nude portraiture to challenge traditional ideas of intimacy, reciprocity, and sexuality. With a background in experimental filmmaking, the analog photographer arranges interior or exterior scenes centered on nature and domesticity. As part of IMPULSE’s Migration in Dialogue conversation series, Gong discusses subverting gender norms, their experience immigrating to the United States from China, and applying for an O-1 visa as a queer photographer.

Christina Elia: When did you move to the United States? 

Morrison Gong: I’m originally from Shenzhen, China, a city known for its tech industry. I moved to the US in 2015 to attend a women’s college called Bryn Mawr in Pennsylvania, but I felt like there wasn’t a huge art scene there, and the population wasn’t very diverse either. I started dating someone who lived in New York, and I wanted to move here anyway, so I did in 2017. 

Asian woman smoking in front of mirror and plants in bathroom, Bea portrait by Morrison.

Morrison Gong, Bea Smoking in Bathroom (2022). Archival pigment print, 21 x 14 inches. Courtesy of the artist.

CE: Did you move here to pursue photography, or did that happen after?

MG: The first time I looked at a camera was after I moved. I took this black-and-white analog photography class with a famous photographer who was teaching at our brother college, and I started photographing the person I was dating. It was really intimate, sort of like Nan Goldin’s style, capturing life’s mundane moments. 

Even though I started there, it felt a bit limiting, because not every part of a romantic relationship is interesting. When I moved to New York and studied at Parsons, there were a lot of creative people around me. I realized I was attracted to some of my peers and curious about their own stories growing up and moving here. So I would approach them and ask them if they wanted to be photographed nude. 

African American man sitting in grass-filled pond naked, wearing nose rings with facial piercings, fallen angel by morrison gong.

Morrison Gong, Fallen Angel (2023). Archival pigment print, 14 x 9 inches. Courtesy of the artist.

CE: What inspired you to explore nudity as a central theme in your work? Does it connect to your personal experiences or cultural perspectives?

MG: Growing up, I was interested in the Japanese photographer Arākii. He photographed a lot of Japanese women nude or half-nude, sometimes in traditional clothing. After I came to the US, I started to meet more male photographers who took similarly “sexy” photos of women, and I began to recognize the problems within this style of photography, specifically when it comes to straight men. 

In China, as a child, my environment felt somewhat restrictive surrounding discussions of sexuality, so I wanted to provide an alternative perspective of the female gaze by photographing whoever—men, women, or non-binary people. 

Two long-haired women naked on top of each other facing camera with lily in between their bodies, Morrison Gong the witching hour archival pigment print.

Morrison Gong, The Witching Hour (2022). Archival pigment print, 17 x 11 inches. Courtesy of the artist.

CE: Has your O-1 visa acquisition process influenced the kind of work you want, or choose, to do?

MG: Trying to balance my practice with the visa application process can be stressful. Sometimes I feel like I just want to get it over with, but it has also taken my art to another level I didn’t think was possible. For instance, I have to work with other people to fulfill my visa requirements. I recently collaborated on an exhibition with one of my friends who is a designer. It was a great experience for both of us, and it brought out aspects in each other we didn’t know existed. 

Last year I went through a phase where I wanted to be a multi-disciplinary artist and distance myself from photography, because I thought that was what galleries wanted. Narrowing down my practice for my visa brought me back to photography and helped me develop a deeper respect for the medium I’d been working with all along. 

CE: Can you talk a little more about the series you’re working on now? 

MG: I had an exhibition once called Give Me Pleasure Or Give Me Death, exploring my interpretation of American culture, which I view as very capitalist and pleasure-driven. The photographs I take reflect that because they’re beautiful images celebrating life and the pursuit of sexual or visual pleasure. 

Now, my interest is shifting toward using archetypes from mythology to create a more inclusive version of these stories. I noticed there are a lot of patriarchal ideals in mythology, which manifests in a hatred of women. For example, in Asian mythology, women are frequently portrayed as easily abused and manipulated, which is why Asian horror about women who were wronged and later come back to take revenge is so popular. I wanted to extract these ideas, imbue them with my own philosophy, and make a sort of futuristic utopia.

Two naked Asian women squatting on rocks with withered tree branches, Morrison Gong tricks archival pigment print.

Morrison Gong, Tricks (2023). Archival pigment print, 18 x 12 inches. Courtesy of the artist.

CE: One interesting aspect of your work is that you also ask your subjects to photograph you. Why? 

MG: Traditionally, a lot of photographers exploit the vulnerable positions they put their models in. I wanted to change this dynamic, which is why I’ll ask my subjects to take photos of me. Sometimes they complain they don’t like the photo I took—that they look ‘ugly’ or don’t love how I saw them. I thought maybe I needed to be in their shoes to understand what they were going through. I think that’s the nature of relationships, which I was interested in investigating with my images of domestic scenes. 

CE: Have you met other people with similar immigration experiences in New York's art world? 

MG: I’ve met a lot of people from different backgrounds through my art. I have a friend from Colombia—he didn’t have to struggle with the immigration process because he got married—but like me, he also struggled to understand the art world in New York. Immigrants don’t have immediate access to the culture here. We see it through a filter, in addition to the language barrier. A lot of the time, we get 80% of what’s presented to us. These are some common struggles for people creating art through a diasporic lens. 

CE: Do you have any advice for other artists applying for their O-1 visa?

MG: I’m not trying to sound corny, but have faith in yourself. One of the reasons why organized religion is so popular is because people need to believe in something, so that life has a purpose. If you don’t have faith, you’ll be easily distracted by other emotions like jealousy, which isn’t good for your spiritual well-being or your artistic practice. And you can build this faith by interacting with people in your community. As an immigrant, I think it’s important to get to know yourself better by recognizing your reflection in others. 

Selfie of Asian photographer with short hair and two red dots on forehead.

Photo of Morrison Gong. Courtesy of the artist.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity. 


Christina Elia

Christina Elia is a freelance journalist and essayist from New York City who writes about fine art, photography, and travel. Her work has been published online in Observer, Apartment Therapy, and i-D Magazine, and has appeared in print in SixtySix Magazine, UP Magazine, and Graffiti Art Magazine. 

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