A note from Joe Paradise Lui
It wasn’t until the re nao ( 热闹 – commonly translated as ‘bustling’, but in reality a unique and overwhelming blend of cymbals, drums, mourning, wailing, incense and wide-eyed statues of garishly painted gods) of my formative cultural experiences was cut off from me that I truly began to love them and want to know them. This sense of yearning for a once- common-thing-now-lost is a migrant experience, as unfortunate as it is universal. Years after sealing away cultural practices that I saw as quaint and retrograde, and after a career of searching for artistic expression in its most radical and experimental forms, it has been a joy to find myself sifting through half-remembered prayers and half-performed rituals, in search of bridges between who I was, who I am and who I would like to be. My relationship with Merlynn Tong has meant many things – deep and poignant sharing, fellowship as working artists, belly laughs and so, so many great meals. But most importantly, it has been an unlocking of the person I was for the first 18 – 20 years of my life. It has allowed me to finally celebrate things I never thought I would ever want to celebrate and
Image: Liv Morison
properly mourn the things I left behind all those years ago on the corner of Leach Highway and Vahland Avenue. Thank you so much for coming to this work – for allowing me to share the cliché and complexity of yearning for a lost tradition with you. It is my great hope that you too might see and feel some of the bridges that link you to your own past – and laugh at the ridiculous lengths Merlynn and I took to get to ours. And while I’ve got you, give it up for the amazing creative team that helped us get here. The greatest privilege of making art is curating the artists you get to work with. There are loves and relationships here, both old and new, and I am so humbled by everything they’ve brought to this work. I am so excited you get to bask in their ridiculous talent and ability.
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