Tommy Kha is rewriting the narrative through cut-outs, family photos and strangers’ kisses

Tommy Kha, heepshead II, Los Angeles, 2018.

“If there’s pathos there also has to be humour in order to understand basic human experiences,” says Memphis-born and New York-based photographer Tommy Kha on the themes at play in his work. This tragicomic dynamic, with its roots in Greek drama, is present in much of the Yale-educated photographer’s work to date. His photographs, which deal with themes related to family, trauma, intimacy and representation, are closely connected to his family’s immigrant status (his family are originally from China; his mother was born in Saigon), and work as an artistic practice because this playfulness more often than not operates as a segway into dark or melancholic ideas.

This tension between sadness and comedy can be seen in his ongoing series Return to Sender (2010–), which was exhibited last autumn at New York’s LMAKgallery. The photographs show Kha being kissed by a string of strangers (over 140 at the time of publication), and draw forth a stream of ideas all tied to the act of kissing, including desire, visibility, intimacy and vulnerability. “The idea of kissing is a very defined image – it is a specific image in one’s mind. I guess I really challenged myself. Having other people kiss me, and then having them see the series altogether and how differently people kissed me, motivated me to keep going,” says Kha. The series is strange and stoic, beautiful and sad, lonely and funny, all at once. Through the humble act of the kiss and the accompanying hand and body gestures of Kha’s collaborators, the individual’s relationship with intimacy and desire are exposed; all the while Kha is blank and cooly receptive to their tender touches, dramatic grasps and passionate squeezes.

Left: Boyz, Williamsburg, 2018. Right: Prince, Midtown Memphis, 2018.

"The idea of kissing is a very defined image – it is a specific image in one’s mind."

“I didn’t want to react in the images because I didn’t want desire placed on my body. I wanted the kisser to be in charge of how they want to look,” explains Kha, with regard to his intentionally detached demeanour in Return to Sender. In this way, both the kisser (the strangers) and the kissed (Kha) maintain their own sense of agency. This exercise in power and control is an ongoing issue within Kha’s work in general. While Return to Sender received some criticism for perpetuating Asian stereotypes – namely, that in Western cinema, Asian men are rarely given a chance to be romantic or sensual – Kha, acknowledging that these critics “weren’t wrong necessarily”, says for him it was “enough” to be the director, photographer and to continuously work on this series over a long period of time.

As a queer Asian man growing up in the American South, the representation of marginalised communities has always been at the front and centre of Kha’s work. “In America right now, the conversation is very much about expanding ‘the narrative’ so that people are creating these kind of stories with people who look like me or people of colour or queer people or everyone who has been marginalised or hasn’t been heard. It’s starting to change very slowly,” he says. As a child and adolescent, Kha remarks that he didn’t see many people who looked like him, which was isolating. Resultantly, a response to this lack of community and representation has understandably found its way into his work. His latest series, Facades (2019–), for example, involves the insertion of a cardboard cut-out of his own face positioned over other people’s bodies. “When I’m photographing my cut-out image, it’s a way to control the way I’m depicted,” he says.

Left: Exchange Place VI, Midtown Memphis, 2018. Right: Headtown 3, New York City, 2017.

For Kha, perhaps the most poetic and powerful of all his subjects is the one in his recent book, Soft Murders (2019). De- riving its name from a Susan Sontag quote, “to photograph someone is a subliminal murder – a soft murder, appropriate to a sad, frightened time”, the tome is a person- al photographic investigation into family trauma. In 1998, Kha’s aunt was murdered, and Soft Murders employs the model of a family photo album in order to unravel the inherited impact of this disturbing event. Kha was initially inspired by his mother’s photography after she gifted him a photo album three years ago. “I was really astounded by her straightforward and funny self-portrait work, even though the images had the quality of a family album. I felt like there was something about them that made me want to know more about my moth- er and at the back of my mind, my aunt’s murder, too,” he explains. The book contains a repurposed selection of his moth- er’s work alongside photographs that they made together, many featuring cut-outs of his face, as in Facades. By recreating his own version of a family photo album, albeit one heavy with a distressing backstory, Kha was able to work through aspects of his personal history for himself. “I didn’t have a lot of photos of myself as a child and I think that of my family members also. So, I’m trying to collect [their photos] and maintain the imagery of them through my own hands.”

This story originally appeared in SLEEK 65 out now!

Alongside the launch of our spring issue exploring glamour as a ‘verb’ SLEEK is dropping our “No one cares if you dress up now” tees. Available to purchase here.

All images courtesy of Tommy Kha.