Hidden in a mini shopping center in Vlissingen, a home for art

The flyer announcing a new exhibition in Queens, “Home-O-Stasis,” gives no address. Instead, it has instructions: When you reach the Queens Public Library in Vlissingen, “go up Kissena Boulevard until you see the Q17/Q27 stop. Go past the garage gate, turn right into the mini mall where scooters and bikes are parked outside.” (How you get to the library is up to you and Google maps.)

The gesture says a lot about the show, through July 23: It pays homage to a neighborhood whose residents are nearly 70 percent Asian, most of them from China, Korea and Taiwan. To find the art that fights for space with signs, billboards and handbills plastering the walls and windows of this nondescript place, you need to experience Vlissingen as its inhabitants do – as a series of everyday, visual cues that form a sense of place instead of an address.

“Even though I grew up in Vlissingen, my mastery of the language is not complete,” said de sculptor Anne Wu, whose work is on display. “I may not know the name of a place, but I can tell you how to get there.”

The effort is worth it.

The show is set in one of the vanishing fixtures of Asian urban enclaves: a one-story mini-mall with a motley collection of businesses, including a beauty salon, butcher, money transfer service, and a 99-cent store.

The organizers are the husband-and-wife team Herb Tamcurator at the Museum of Chinese in America and a painter, and Lu Zhang, an artist who works in both video and ceramics. The couple, who live down the street, saw the building during the pandemic, when the windows were covered with handwritten “rooms for rent” signs. People on the sidewalk, often new immigrants, thronged the notices, looking for a place to land—no mean feat in a neighborhood in the advance of gentrification.

“We thought, wouldn’t it be nice to offer something to people looking for places to live, something different to think about,” Tam said. “We decided to invite other artists who had a close connection to Vlissingen – who lived here, were born here or had an intimate connection – and explore together what makes Vlissingen unique.”

Some artists, such as Wu, grew up in Vlissingen. Others have been there regularly, some since childhood, with their parents, including the photographer Janice Chungthe author Xueli Wangand the founders of the collective Mamahuhu, Yuki He and Quianfan Gu, who produce multidisciplinary events focused on Chinese culture. Buying familiar foods at the market, buying Chinese and Korean language books at the library, and eating at restaurants with different regional specialties gave everyone a sense of coming home and a sense of belonging to people whose lives had traveled similar routes . from Asia to the United States.

It was not easy to convince the shopkeepers to have artwork placed on the windows and walls of their shops. “When I first spoke to the sellers, there was skepticism,” said Zhang. “Until I brought work in and talked to them one by one, then they started to find it interesting. ”

Tam added: “Lu didn’t approach it in a purely transactional way, like how much it would cost to rent this space. Instead, she explained very honestly what we were trying to do and what work we hoped to show, so they felt very involved. (The trustees actually paid each of the companies, but many offered them “solid discounts,” Lu said.)

The works are inserted in subtle and surprising ways, so as not to interrupt the flow of traffic or social interactions taking place in the mini-mall. A group of small-scale, delicately painted scenes from Tam’s daily life are quite easy to spot in the barbershop and vitamin store. But to find other art, you have to look closely – acclimate yourself to the landscape of signs and posters hanging from walls and ceilings. Slowly you begin to recognize things that are out of sync with their environment. (Some of the text-based works in the show appear in both English and Asian languages; an onsite brochure is also available.)

Even if you don’t read Chinese script, you will hear Wang’s “Mama, have you eaten?” find, a photo and text based series pasted over the shop window of the butcher’s shop on the street, and on four different shops in the building. Certain phrases in her artwork – “Mom, have you eaten?”, a well-known way of expressing affection for a family member in some Asian cultures, and “I am the one who loves you the most”, a text from a Taiwanese doll from the 90s song – its offerings to those who may feel displaced, uprooted or isolated.

Step into the mall’s main entrance and look up: it’s a cut-out piece of paperwork by Xiyadi, an artist from Shaanxi, China, whose creations were recently on display at the Drawing Center. Encased in acrylic, Xiyadi’s piece depicts an unlikely landmark: the clock tower atop a U-Haul center in Flushing, a fitting landmark for a neighborhood defined by immigration. Zhang’s “Calling the Dutch” ceramic sculpture honors a long-gone, nostalgic component of the mall’s facade: a plywood cutout of a Nokia phone advertising a mobile phone company. (Zhang herself signed up for a phone plan there during the pandemic to keep in touch with her elderly grandfather back home.)

Photos of Chung from her series “Han in the City (Koreatown)hanging on the windows of a cosmetics store. They show a shop owner, Jinglan Quan, who is ethnically Korean but of Chinese nationality. Because of this duality, Quan initially struggled to find her place in Vlissingen, but, like her store, became an essential part of the neighborhood.

Wu’s work, in which she cuts years, months and days out of a calendar and leaves behind a ghostly skeleton, addresses a similar problem of orientation. “It’s a pretty literal representation of being in two places at once, because it has both the lunar calendar and the American calendar,” the artist said.

On a storage cabinet outside the barbershop, an interactive artwork lets visitors play a dream board game – “Flushing Polyphonous” – designed by Mamahuhu as a kind of Queens-centric version of Monopoly. Players roll dice and win or lose money as they progress, depending on the cards they draw. Some of the instructions are caustic and cunning, pointing out the challenges residents face: “Tangram Mall is celebrating its grand opening with exciting promotions, but unfortunately your small business is suffering losses,” says a card indicating a setback. Other cards refer to policing street vendors, MTA delays, and anti-gentrification protests slowing your progress.

With Zhang as translator, I asked some of the people who work in the building what they thought of the show. Tina Lin, owner of Tina House, which specializes in skin care, had only one complaint, with a smile: “It’s good to have a job here, but it’s not enough – I want more!” Jessie Mu, who runs the 99 cent store, said, “It felt really fresh and new – we usually just have advertising posters on the wall. It brought the building into the community.” Andy Zou, who works in the barbershop, said the board game was his favorite piece on the show, but he hasn’t had time to play it because he’s always too busy with work.

Tam and Zhang chose the name “Home-O-stasis” as a nod to the delicate process of finding balance when trying to make a new home. In addition to all the ways the show points to the insecurity and disorientation experienced by many residents of Vlissingen, it also showcases the sense of belonging that the community provides.

“It’s a love letter,” Tam said.

“Home-O-Stasis” is open seven days a week during the mall’s opening hours, from 10am to 8pm. Go on a Friday afternoon and you’ll find the curators interacting with visitors. And if you’re lucky, Zhang might give you a copy of a small, limited-edition zine featuring some of her favorite local spots for bubble tea, snacks, and dinner — “things you won’t find on Google,” she said with a laugh. Don’t be surprised if you have to cross a supermarket first and then a parking lot to get there.

Home-O-Stasis: life and livelihood in Vlissingen

Through July 23, daily from 10 a.m. to 8 p.m., 41-40 Kissena Blvd. Take the 7 train to Flushing Main Street and walk 2 minutes down Main Street to the Queens Public Library. From there, turn right onto Kissena Boulevard until you see the Q17/Q27 stop. Go past the garage gate and enter the mini mall on the right.