INTERVIEW | Yiou (Max) Yang
10 Questions with Yiou (Max) Yang
Al-Tiba9 Art Magazine ISSUE17 | Featured Artist
Max Yang is a photographer based in Los Angeles and Beijing. She graduated with distinction with a BFA from ArtCenter College of Design in 2022 and earned her M.Sc. in Arts Leadership/Administration from USC in 2023. Through her graduate studies, Max applies a cross-disciplinary approach to researching East Asian performance genres, such as film, dance, and visual arts. Her work examines how East Asian artists challenge traditional gender roles and advocate for social equity. Currently, Max is pursuing an MA in Cinema and Media Studies at USC's School of Cinematic Arts. Max's artistic practice delves into emotional and narrative themes inspired by the complexities of contemporary queer culture, and her artistic vision seeks to provide an alternative perspective to indifference and bias, embodying a spirit of rebellion that is both timely and timeless.
ARTIST STATEMENT
In today's society, how much remains overlooked, unnoticed? What becomes neglected, forgotten, dismissed, or outright abandoned? While objects are often subject to such disregard, people, too, can face similar indifference. How, then, do we leave a mark in this era—a piece of memory that is truly ours? How do we assert our queerness, our defiance, in a world constantly in flux, driven by survival and competition? Max's photography captures these overlooked, forgotten spaces, portraying East Asian queer experiences in both cultural and socio-political landscapes. Her images evoke a melancholic sensitivity—attentive to neglected objects and subtle atmospheres—that sharply contrasts with masculine ideals of prosperity, progress, and control. Max observes that, despite advancements, China still contends with misogyny, homophobia, and other discrimination/violence. Revived patriarchal ideologies, the suppression of #MeToo, the detention of feminist activists, and bans on "effeminate men" highlight the importance of Max's work in representing diverse identities beyond stereotypes.
AL-TIBA9 ART MAGAZINE ISSUE17
INTERVIEW
You have a unique academic path with studies in both Arts Leadership and Cinema and Media Studies. How has this interdisciplinary background informed your artistic practice?
I think my academic background in Art Administration and Cinema and Media Studies brings a range of perspectives to my artistic work. My undergraduate training in Photography & Imaging gave me a solid foundation in my medium, but it’s really been my academic path that pushes me to keep rethinking what I create and what I plan to make.
You are originally from Beijing but studied in California. Did these two greatly different cultural environments have a significant impact on your art practice?
I came to the U.S. in high school and studied in Boston before moving to California for college, where I’ve stayed ever since. I feel a strong connection to both Beijing and Los Angeles, emotionally and culturally, even though these two places are so different. Growing up in Beijing in a relatively traditional East Asian family and now studying and creating in California has made me more eager to approach my work from a transnational perspective. The sparks that come from the intersection—or even the friction—between these two cultures are the parts I find most fascinating.
Photography is at the heart of your work. What does this medium allow you to express in terms of emotional and narrative complexity that other forms might not?
Photography holds a unique place in my heart because I believe its immediacy is incredibly significant. In a time when creative possibilities are endless, and new tools can blend and reshape art, film photography—the medium I often work with—feels sincere, honest, and even unpolished. I’m drawn to that authenticity; once you press the shutter, your emotions and movements are captured as they are, with no option to retract or alter them. I think this quality is especially meaningful for the queer community in China.
Your photography often captures themes of overlooked or dismissed spaces and individuals. Could you describe your creative process in bringing attention to these often-hidden narratives?
As a Gen-Z (though I feel more influenced by millennial culture), I notice how, in our fast-paced society, so many details are overlooked, whether in technology or pressing social issues like the high pressure on young people, social tensions, race, and gender. I want to capture these forgotten details and moments in my photography, making them a motif in my work. These scenes are marks left by our society’s development. Much like the queer community I aim to represent, these are parts of our world that, in certain environments, remain unseen and ignored.
Much of your work focuses on the experiences of East Asian queer individuals. How do you approach visually representing the nuances of queer identity within this cultural context?
As I mentioned in my statement, I believe that from an East Asian perspective—especially as a Chinese—the rapid advances in economy and technology don’t necessarily equate to holistic societal progress, particularly when viewed at the individual level. Issues surrounding women and the queer community are often underestimated or lack genuine representation, leading to environments that can foster misogyny, homophobia, and extreme gender polarization. I want to show people how the queer community lives and expresses itself in all its dimensions—whether confident, vulnerable, lost, experiencing touch, or love.
Your photography challenges traditional masculine ideals and societal norms, as you mention in your statement. What drives you to explore these themes, and how do you hope your work influences perceptions around them? With your background in researching East Asian performance genres, how do you incorporate performance and cultural identity elements into your visual storytelling?
In much of my work, I consciously avoid focusing on masculinity or depicting traditional male traits. My themes center on the queer community, which naturally positions my perspective in opposition to traditional East Asian masculinity.This isn’t something I intentionally set out to oppose, but rather a dynamic that exists by nature. Traditional masculinity and femininity—or we could say, societal norms around gender—tend to resist or even reject the kind of queerness I aim to express. My purpose is to continue expressing this queerness, no matter the challenges or resistance, because this is who I am and what our community represents.
Your work brings attention to issues of discrimination and cultural expectations. How has the public, particularly within East Asian communities, responded to these themes in your photography?
I’ve experienced cisgender men criticizing my work or some of my “statements.” Popular social media platforms often auto-censor queer-related content as well. However, most people within the queer community embrace this queerness fully. For many young East Asians, growing up in a relatively traditional East Asian family can feel stifling. Especially in China, many people aren’t expressive (in all kinds of ways), but I hope that more people will see or create work centered on queer experiences.
Given the challenges and censorship around gender and queer representation in certain cultures, how has the reception of your work shaped your perspective on your role as an artist?
The reception of my work, especially the criticism and censorship it sometimes faces, has deepened my commitment to creating art that gives voice to queer experiences. I see it as a reminder of the narrow boundaries that still exist around gender and sexuality, particularly in East Asian cultures. Growing up within these cultural expectations, I know firsthand how confining it can feel, and this fuels my desire to make art that disrupts those norms. Instead of feeling discouraged, these reactions make me even more determined to highlight queer stories, to capture moments that show the fullness of our lives—from joy and love to vulnerability and uncertainty. It’s become clear to me that my role as an artist isn’t just to create but to challenge and, hopefully, to open up space for others who’ve felt unseen.
You’re actively pursuing further academic studies. How do you see your current research influencing your future artistic and academic projects?
My current research is shaping both my artistic and academic directions. Diving into theories around identity, transnationalism, and queer representation has opened up new ways for me to think about my own work. I find myselfinterested in how these ideas can break down traditional narratives, especially those I grew up with in East Asia. This research fuels my desire to create art that not only represents queer lives but also challenges cultural expectations around gender, identity, and belonging. Moving forward, I see my academic work as a foundation that allows me to push further artistically, to make work that’s not just visually engaging but also theoretically grounded and socially resonant. I want my projects to reflect a deeper understanding of the complexities in the communities I represent, and I hope to inspire dialogue and connection across different cultural perspectives.
Lastly, as someone who works across two distinct cultural contexts—Los Angeles and Beijing—are there new narratives or collaborations you’re looking to explore in your upcoming work?
Absolutely. Working between Los Angeles and Beijing gives me a unique lens on how identity, queerness, and community are understood and expressed across these different cultural landscapes. One narrative I’m drawn to is exploring the subtleties of queer expression within traditional East Asian contexts—how people navigate queerness in environments that may not openly embrace it yet still find ways to assert their identities. I’d love to collaborate with artists and storytellers who share similar experiences, perhaps creating work that juxtaposes these two worlds to highlight both the contrasts and shared struggles. I’m also interested in exploring how the rapid pace of social and technological change in China impacts younger generations’ sense of self, especially within the queer community. There’s so much happening at the intersection of technology, censorship, and cultural expectations, and I want to find ways to capture that complexity. Collaborations that involve both Chinese and international queer artists could bring fresh perspectives and open up conversations that bridge these cultural contexts. My hope is to create a body of work that doesn’t just reflect a singular experience but captures the fluid, multi-dimensional identities that exist across borders.