A self-portrait by Derek Kirk Kim.

An exploration of why there seems to be a glut of Asian American graphic novel superstars.

by Oliver Saria

For those interested in seeing a window into the arcane world of Asian American graphic novelists, but who are too lazy to actually read their books even with all the pictures, it’d be worth your time to check out Mythomania, the live-action Web series written and directed by award-winning graphic novelist and budding filmmaker Derek Kirk Kim. (Full disclosure: I know a thing or two about Mythomania because Kim is one of my housemates and he shot it in our condo.)

In the second episode, a group of cartoonists gathers for a dose of actual human contact in what is otherwise a very lonely, arduous endeavor—writing, drawing, lettering, stapling and selling a self-published mini-comic. The Web series is based partly on Kim’s real-life experiences from about a decade ago when he was a fledgling cartoonist living in the San Francisco Bay Area, where he would regularly meet with other fledgling cartoonists for Art Night. Gatherings of visual artists are not uncommon in cities like Chicago, New York and Portland, Ore.—places generally in close proximity to an art school or anywhere artists happen to coalesce. Other Art Nights across the country may go by less generic names, but few have reached the kind of semi-legendary status associated with Kim and his cohorts, who have produced some of the most acclaimed graphic novels of the past decade.

Kim went on to achieve the rare feat of winning the comic industry’s “triple crown” of awards—the Ignatz, the Harvey, as well as the “Oscar” of comics, the Eisner—for his groundbreaking graphic novel Same Difference and Other Stories (First Second Books).

Gene Yang, who actually proposed the first Art Night, was a finalist for a National Book Award in 2006 for American Born Chinese (First Second Books), the first graphic novel to ever be considered for the prestigious prize. In 2007, the book won the Eisner Award for best new graphic album and the Michael L. Printz Award for excellence in young adult literature. Lark Pien, another Art Night alum, won the Harvey Award for her color work on American Born Chinese. Kim and Yang both won their second Eisners in 2010 for their collaboration, The Eternal Smile, a collection of short stories. Other notable alums include: Jason Shiga, another Eisner winner for his mind-boggling work of genius, Meanwhile, a choose-your-own-adventure story on steroids; and Korean American Hellen Jo’s coming of age mini-comic Jin and Jam #1 (Sparkplug) was nominated for an Ignatz in 2009.

Jo, an art school dropout who now works as an assistant story board revisionist for The Regular Show on Cartoon Network, states unequivocally, “I definitely learned more at Art Night than art school. I kind of developed my stylistic choices there.” Continue Reading »

Unorthodox Rabbi

As a child, Angela Buchdahl stood out as the lone Asian face in the synagogue and at Jewish camps. Today, she holds the distinction of being the nation’s first Asian American rabbi and is helping to redefine what it means to be Jewish.

by Rebecca U. Cho

On Friday nights at Manhattan’s Central Synagogue, a crowd of 600 gathers for service, voices unifying in centuries-old songs of worship. Leading the attendees in fluent Hebrew, her passion-laden voice soaring to the tops of the temple, is Korean American Angela Buchdahl.

A decade ago, Buchdahl shook up the ranks of Jewish leadership in the U.S. by becoming the country’s first Asian American rabbi. She is “emblematic of the changing face of Judaism,” declared an article in Newsweek, which named the biracial 39-year-old to its 2011 list of 50 Most Influential Rabbis. Not only is she helping to redefine what it means to be Jewish, she is at the forefront of a movement among Reform Jews to inspire social change and push for greater involvement in community organizing.

Her leadership and vision seem to have connected with Jews around the world. Since her arrival five years ago to the prominent New York synagogue as cantor, or song leader, attendance on Friday nights has doubled. Thousands more worldwide recently listened in on a live web stream of services for the High Holy Days. Continue Reading »

Are We There Yet?

The third Harold and Kumar film has the titular characters grappling with adulthood. Has Asian American media itself come of age?

By Eugene Yi

So you’re watching TV. It’s good, it’s OK, it’s whatever. You have it on just to have something on. The situations and the characters are stock, and the jokes barely seem to fill the time between the imagined rimshots. You’re watching it and not watching it. It’s just TV, after all.

An Asian character walks onto the set. You think, “Oh. There’s one.”

You are counting. And you are primed for outrage.

Exotification? Emasculation? Model minority? A terrorist? A stupid accent? A deadly martial art? You think, “What am I going to be mad about now?” It’s not just TV, after all. A stock ethnic character on television is not just a caricature; it’s a template, and there are those who will overlay it on you, see where the lines overlap and where they don’t, and then, stereotype accordingly. Representation channeled through society influences identity—

Or does it? On the morrow of the release of A Very Harold and Kumar 3D Christmas, I’m spending a lot less time going all ethnic-studies on the film. In my lifetime, we’ve gone from “Whats-a happening-a, hot stuff?” to “MILF!” to, well, what exactly? Too many different representations, too many different actors, a fugue of voices upon voices striving to be heard. “Oh. There’s one” has become “OK, another one.”

Would this have happened without Harold and Kumar? Perhaps. But it is still the first Asian American Hollywood franchise. “I consider it an achievement that one movie was made, another grand achievement that a second one was made, and completely implausible that a third one was made starring a Korean guy and an Indian guy as the leads,” said Harold, née John Cho.

One could conceivably reverse the order: that it was completely implausible that one would get made, a grand achievement that a second one did, and a lesser but still notable achievement that we’re now at part three. And not just because the films made money. Something subtle has happened in the relationship between Asian America and mainstream culture. Seven years ago, when the first film came out, two Asian Americans helming a studio comedy seemed like the fruition of an impossible dream. Now, it’s hard to list prominent Asian American actors without feeling like you’re leaving someone notable out.

Some of the most popular YouTube channels are run by Asian Americans, telling stories about Asian Americans. Most large cities have at least one, if not several, Asian or Asian American film festivals. There is an array of options available for the average Asian American looking for faces that look like theirs. It’s not some utopian, Obaman post-racial nirvana, of course. But all the small steps—cultural, political, technological, accidental—seem to have allowed Asian American media to trend towards some sort of maturity. Continue Reading »

In Between

Amy Mihyang explores the diversity and complexity of Korean adoptee experiences in her one-woman show, between: growing up (adopted), which opened in Seoul this past spring.

by tammy ko Robinson

A growing number of adult adoptees have been returning to Korea to learn about their cultural and biological roots. And many are not just going for summer motherland tours and birth family searches, but are relocating there to live and work.

Amy Mihyang is one such adoptee. She was adopted by a white couple when she was 3 months old and spent her childhood in upstate New York, where she was in her first play at age 5. Around the same time, she began voice work for a local radio station and in her early teens appeared in her first professional stage production, Inherit the Wind. She has since performed in shows in the United States, the United Kingdom and South Korea.

In recent years, her theater work has been influenced by her personal odyssey to find her birth family. In 2004, she reunited with her birth mother during a trip she took to South Korea with her adoptive father. She even lived with her birth family during a monthlong stay in 2006. Then, two years ago, Amy Mihyang (Her surname is Ginther, but she goes by the stage name of Amy Mihyang, which combines her first name and Korean name) decided to move to Korea to live and work. Last year, she starred in Seoul Players’ production of The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee.

This past spring, Amy Mihyang, who has studied the Korean language and pansori, performed a show she had written called between: growing up (adopted), which opened in Seoul to positive reviews, and she hopes to bring it to the U.S.

She came up with the idea for the one-woman show, in which she plays a half-dozen Korean adoptee characters, while studying at Hofstra University in New York. Her research for the show connected her with other Korean adoptees around the globe and served as her “education into our collective adoptee experience.” She is part of an adoptee community that has come to see itself as part of a distinct diaspora.  Nearly 300,000 children from South Korea have been adopted into primarily white families in 15 countries across North America, Europe and Australia since the end of the Korean War. These children often contend with issues of loss, race and culture on a complex level, and even the most loving adoptive families cannot fully identify with the nature of these experiences.

Her play’s run in Seoul came amid a sea change on the issue of intercountry adoption within South Korea. Because the majority of South Korean children placed come from single-parent homes, campaigns and new laws to overturn the longtime stigma and lack of social support for single mothers have emerged. Continue Reading »

Steven Yeun, with co-stars Norm Reedus and Jeffrey DeMunn, at The Walking Dead panel at last July’s Comic-Con. Photo by John Shearer/AMC

Steven Yeun: The Grateful Living

The star of the AMC zombie series, The Walking Dead, is thankful his stereotype-breaking character is back for season 2.

by Jimmy Lee

In The Walking Dead, zombies roam a bleak American landscape, biting their way through the last bastions of humankind. In Internet forums, fans have found a tasty dish they’d be more than happy to sink their teeth into in Steven Yeun, the 27-year-old actor who plays Glenn.

“Steven Yeun is about to be everyone’s cat’s meow. This boy is delicious,” one admirer wrote on IMDB. “He’s a sweet piece of eye candy,” commented another.

When asked about enjoying his newfound hottie status, Yeun is incredulous. “I don’t even know how to answer that,” he says.

In real life, Yeun is modest and deferential, and repeatedly praises his co-stars. On the critically acclaimed zombie drama—that’s right, those words can go together, especially when a show successfully explores how people struggle to maintain their humanity when faced with adversity and horror—his character Glenn is scrappy, resourceful and fleet-footed. He’s also got a few felonious skills up his sleeve, like hot-wiring a car, which come in handy when you’re trying to survive a zombie apocalypse. And when The Walking Dead returns to the AMC cable network for a highly anticipated second season on Oct. 16, there will be one particularly notable development in store for Glenn: romance. Continue Reading »

Booking Bars Thrive in Korea http://t.co/bHOtsHVE

May Issue: Last But Not Least ... Crying Nut http://t.co/bv4ggNEl

Wednesday’s Links: Michelle Rhee backs lawsuit against teacher's union, Yul Kwon wants more Asians on TV, Dumbfoundead http://t.co/7nVqg7yb

Shin-Soo Choo homered, doubled and walked from the leadoff spot Tuesday versus the Twins. http://t.co/npn0lKFR

Tuesday's Links: Korean Zombie Fight Night, Ahn Sung-ki in new film 'Unbowed,' Monks Accused of Going to Room Salon http://t.co/I8lNm57e