Imperfect vunerable artist Pixy Liao’s curious world of intimacy exposes all in the name of art.
The importance of hugs and physical touch cannot be understated, according to many health professionals. Or in artist Pixy Liao’s case, a hug, a kiss, a pinch on the breast, a dual-partner stretching session, or a naked breakfast feast (using one’s partner as the plate, no less). In fact, one might as well button themselves into their partner’s shirt or zip them into their robe; Liao surely has.
These exact intimate interactions are what comprise the majority of Liao’s portfolio. A multidisciplinary artist who was born in China, laid creative roots in Memphis, Tennessee, and now resides in Brooklyn, New York, Liao (whose birth name is Yijun Liao) brings with her a curiosity that makes her work—a symposium on love itself—something often unexpected. Although love (and with it, intimacy) is often viewed as complicated, serious, and all-important, Liao’s work paints it in a variety of lights that extend beyond just that of “weighty.”
“I think we all feel silly sometimes, or that part of [a relationship] is always going to be uncomfortable.”
“When I think about relationships, I never think of them as something purely love or something so holy and serious,” says Liao on the undeniably tongue-in-cheek nature of her work. “I think we all feel silly sometimes, or that part of [a relationship] is always going to be uncomfortable.” In that case, why not just play into it? Liao’s ongoing project, Experimental Relationship, does just that: It experiments with the awkward nature that comes with emotionally and physically baring it all to one’s partner.
The sometimes uncomfortable vunerable lens through which Liao’s work is framed calls into question the many ways we observe and put pressure on love and relationships. From the societal pressure to settle down, to the capitalistic pressure to couple up and assimilate economically, to the personal pressure to be the perfect partner, relationships can quickly resemble a game of appearances. Romantic relationships are pressured into being perfect in every way: stability, communication, trust, values, the list goes on. The amalgamation of these factors is expected to create the ideal “love”; however, as mentioned earlier by Liao, the essence of relationships is not to simply be in love.
The images in artist Liao’s Experimental Relationship series feature her and her boyfriend, Moro, in a variety of settings, experimenting with closeness in a variety of contexts. The images work to fuse her and her partner into the aforementioned ideal singular unit. “My ideal intimate relationship is when two people can act as one unit,” she explains. “Meeting Moro and collaborating with him in photography has given me an opportunity to exercise that idea in images. In my photos, I’m driven by the desire to create alternative possibilities a couple could do together. The photos are both the result of our relationship and also a tool to keep us together.”
This exploration of possibilities has gotten this particular unit into a variety of situations, all documented in the series: stretching together, giving each other massages, sharing food and draping themselves against each other. The aim is not to be sexy or sleek or perfect; the aim is to get close. And in Liao’s world, there’s no such thing as too close.
Not just a survey on physical closeness, Experimental Relationship also meditates on themes of gender roles and age difference. Liao is five years Moro’s senior, a factor she has previously cited as a motivator for her artwork. Using her work to explore the reversal of the typical gender role/age difference combination, the artist aims to subvert the previous ideas spectators may have of love and relationships.
“[Gender] has an influence on everyone, but most importantly young people today think much more openly about gender roles,” she says. “They are the future. I’m very hopeful about that. I view my work as more of a personal project than a social project. But I hope my work can be a conversation starter on these topics.” In many of the artist’s images, her partner often leans on her—both physically and metaphorically, a dynamic that challenges what is often thought of as the heteronormative relationship dynamic. “[Gender] does not need to be confined and cannot be confined. We shouldn’t say what is right or wrong,” says Liao.
Liao has other projects beyond just Experimental Relationship that speak to love and relationships. For Your Eyes Only acts almost as an after-dark version of Experimental Relationship, studying more closely ideas of intimacy and sexuality. However, in true Pixy Liao fashion, the images oscillate between tender and tongue-in-cheek. Two hands affectionately playing the piano are juxtaposed against a thumb mimicking an erect penis through a pair of jeans; warm sun rays across a bare chest are next to a bare bottom sticking out from between two curtains. Most notably, the collection doesn’t feature any faces (save for two of the images), instead calling on the viewer to focus solely on the body parts. When asked about these varied lenses of intimacy, both soft and silly, Liao thinks it comes down to people’s individual values.
“I want to create some photos so that people can respond directly to the images without thinking too much about the people in the pictures.”
“People need to decide if the relationship shown in the photos is accepted in their own value system before they can decide whether they like or hate the photos,” says Liao. “I want to create some photos so that people can respond directly to the images without thinking too much about the people in the pictures.”
As opposed to the vantage point that Experimental Relationship offers, For Your Eyes Only gives spectators a zoomed-in perspective that studies colors, composition, and body parts. “Of course, I’m still being myself in creating these images,” she says. “I zoom in to focus on the details so that people can maybe forget who is behind the photographs. I want these photos to be more open to the viewers.”
Another vertical in Liao’s multifaceted portfolio is her in music group with Moro, called PIMO. “Our band PIMO is actually [Moro’s] music project,” she says. “As with my photo project, my role in the band is completely switched with Moro. He is the absolute leader in our band.” Similar to the way Pixy creates images of the perfect relationship unit, so does the music group, with even the band’s name reflecting their collaboration as one singular unit. The songs may be quite light-hearted, both sonically and lyrically, but the creation of the music itself signifies something much deeper for Liao. “For me, it’s a way for me to pay back to him,” she says.
“I’m also learning from him and watching him make music. Most of the songs are about things that we are both interested in or from his point of view. Sometimes he would also make songs about the imagined Pixy based on my work.”
Not just a photographer and part-time musician, Liao has also created a collection of concept projects that all seek to explore—and poke fun at—gender and sexuality. A Collection of Penises involved Liao asking Moro to make 100 phallic-shaped objects in whatever ways he wanted, a project that she says allowed her to make art by, well, not making it. “In an intimate relationship, people do many things for their partner for free, like cooking, laundry, and massage. By using my boyfriend, I explore the possibilities of making artwork by not making it and question the owner of the authorship.” Other projects involve wearing her partner as a bag (Men as Bags), and a spray bottle with a large breast over the nozzle that sprays milk.
Perhaps the most interesting conceptual piece Liao has made is Temple for Her, a temple that is dedicated to her childhood idol, Empress Wu Zetian. Liao admits to having a complicated relationship with the Empress, who was notoriously cruel during her reign; Liao originally felt as if she couldn’t revere someone as cruel or “evil” as Zetian. After realizing her fascination with Zetian, Liao sought to dedicate a temple to her as the inaugural piece in her Evil Women Cult series, which aims to highlight women rulers from around the world. “Because her name is always connected with evil, I couldn’t admit my admiration for her back then,” says Liao. “That’s why I want to make a cult for all these evil women rulers all over the world. So young girls would know who they were and claim them proudly as their idols or goddesses.”
Seen as a departure from her regular exploration of gender and sexuality, Temple for Her actually lends itself to Liao’s larger portfolio in a fitting way. A conceptual project that reveres a woman who is commonly seen as evil and imperfect, it’s not too far off from projects such as Experimental Relationship, in which members of a relationship, imperfect in their own ways, are the subject. “I’m the only one I need to satisfy when making work,” says Liao about being an artist. Her art says the exact same thing about being a woman, a partner, and a human.
Taken from Mission’s Gender issue. Images courtesy of Pixy Liao
