Sarah Mei Herman
How did you begin your series Solace? What brought you to China and what did you anticipate photographing upon arrival?
In response to my long-term Touch series, I was approached by Emerson & Wajdowicz Studios (EWS) to produce a related project about the LGBTQ+ community in China. Specialising in socially-conscious multimedia design and art, EWS runs a photobook series devoted entirely to LGBTQ+ themed stories – showcasing the diversity and complexity of queer communities around the world.
In September 2019, I returned to Xiamen to portray 14 queer individuals and couples, all of whom I found through my existing network in the city. Alongside portraits of each person, and images of the private spaces they inhabit, Solace features interviews with each subject about life, love and their personal fears. Unable to return to Xiamen during the pandemic, I continued the project in the Netherlands, photographing young members of China’s LGBTQ community who had relocated to Europe. The book was published by New York’s The New Press in December 2022.
Touch
I started the Touch series in 2014, during a four-month artist residency in the Chinese coastal city of Xiamen. (This was my first time in China) I was curious about the cultural differences I encountered there, but I really wanted to portray something universally recognisable: the meaning of friendship and love, in all its intensity and vulnerability. Meeting my subjects in Xiamen’s streets or at the university campus, I started photographing several young adults – primarily women – and their intimate relationships.
Linli hiding a hickey on her neck from her first girlfriend.
Many of the young women I met were in queer relationships. Whilst homosexuality is no longer prohibited by law in China, it remains a taboo across society, particularly amongst older generations. None of those I photographed have been able to speak openly with their parents about their sexual identities and preferences; I therefore feel privileged that each one was willing to share so much of their private world with me.
I’ve returned to Xiamen several times since 2014, and I try to photograph the same women on each visit – capturing the tenderness they share, and the things that have changed or remained over time. Fortuitously, three of those I first photographed in Xiamen have since moved to Europe, allowing me the opportunity to continue portraying them. With each photographic session, external pressures fade away for a moment, and the bonds between us are further strengthened.
I often photographed Xiaoyu and Liyao together. When I met them in 2015 they were in an open relationship. In 2018, a few months after I took image (top right) they broke up but they stayed friends.
Xiaoyu with her girlfriend at the time (Qiumo)
You mentioned that many of the people you photograph could not speak openly with family about their sexuality, so in many ways consenting to be photographed is incredibly brave. As a photographer how do you navigate that responsibility to honor their trust while also sharing what they keep from their family publicly?
That’s an interesting question, which I have tried to answer to myself as well. I do feel very responsible for the participating people, but to be honest I don’t really have control over the possible consequences. Of course I would never show the work somewhere, knowing that it might put the participants in danger… for example: I wouldn’t agree to exhibit the work in China, or have it published there. But one never knows for sure, since photographs are widely distributed online. I imagine that the people portrayed are aware of the fact that there is always a small risk. They all seemed to be convinced about wanting to participate, and we discussed it beforehand .
How did you navigate the language barrier? At what point did you realize the language barrier wasn't a barrier at all?
At the beginning of my four month artist in residence in Xiamen I really struggled with the language barrier; not being able to read signs with street names, bus stops etc. But through the encounters with people I realized that language doesn’t necessarily need to be a barrier. Of course it’s not possible to have a normal conversation, but with the help of google translate we got quite far. During my first stay in Xiamen in 2014 I didn’t have wifi on my phone, so I couldn’t use google translate like I did during my trip in 2019 to shoot for “Solace”. I had a few sentences in English translated into Chinese, printed out on a piece of paper. The first time I used this was when I approached a young couple in the street. I had followed them for about 10 minutes, because I was very nervous to approach them. When I eventually did, they didn’t speak any English so I took out the piece of paper and pointed at the translated words. I managed to portray them in front of a wall I had spotted during the walk. A few weeks later I met and photographed them a second time (this was arranged through email).
This will always be a special memory. Somehow this couple seemed to completely trust me, although we couldn’t speak. After the shoot they gave me a hug.
What surprised you during this this project and how did you react to the unexpected?
The thing that really surprised me during the whole project was how the participating people opened up to me and trusted me, although they had never met me. I visited the people in their private spaces, and after talking with them, the ideas for the images emerged through being in the space together. With a few of the people I photographed in Xiamen, I wasn't able to speak because they didn't speak English and I don't speak Mandarin. I expected this to make it far more complicated then it actually was. We communicated through google translate which worked quite well. Of course it wasn't possible to have longer conversations before/ after the shoot, but through the written interviews I conducted, I was able to know more about them later. During my trip to Xiamen in September 2019 I had to work very efficiently since I only had 12 days there, and I had arranged to photograph 14 people - people I had never met before, this was all arranged through WeChat in advance. With some of them I got the chance to meet 2 or 3 times, with others only once was possible. This is why some of the stories are more extensive then others. I was slightly worried about that, but in the end I think it worked out in the book. In some cases it was difficult to photograph in their (student) room or house because it was extremely small or the light was bad. In those cases we would go outside and I would photograph them in the hallway or just outside where they lived. This process is always quite intuitive.
When we finally decided for me to continue the project in the Netherlands I had more time and space, and I revisited everyone at least twice. There was one couple (Wingki and Fleur) whom I had photographed in their house together twice, and we arranged to meet one last time about 2 months later. Upon arrival they told me that they had separated, but they still wanted to do the shoot together. That was a moment that probably surprised me most. It was quite an emotional shoot, but I felt grateful that they were willing to share this with me.
Wingki is a transman who was born in Hong Kong. He came to the Netherlands with his father when he was a teenager. When I took this photograph Wingki and his girlfriend Fleur, they had been in a relationship for about three years, and they were living together in an apartment in Leiden. Not so long after I took this portrait they separated.
What about documenting intimacy intrigues you? How do you express yourself and your feelings of love through your photographs?
Throughout my practice, I explore relationships, loneliness, longing, intimacy and the human urge for physical proximity. Intimacy between people (in friendship, family relationships as well as love relationships) has always been an endless source of inspiration to me; the way bodies touch and the importance of “the other”. “Touch” is a necessity of life, as well as something that makes life worthwhile.
I attempt to reveal/ make visible the subtle and tender gestures and feelings between people, by peeling away all the things that might distract. I search for a certain stillness, a moment which somehow seems to transcend/ go beyond the scene.
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