A Feast For Tired Eyes: YUSHI LI in conversation with Alexandra Gilliams

By Alexandra Gilliams

Yushi Li uses photography and video to stage desire and eroticism from a female, heterosexual perspective, breaking gender roles and unveiling feminine taboos. She explores these ideas across several series, rendering men passive and vulnerable from her vantage point. Currently pursuing her PhD in Arts and Humanities at the Royal College of Art, where she also completed a Master’s in Photography, her images are inspired by visual culture and art history, two subjects fatigued by images containing  disengaged  women. They have been created for hundreds of years, almost solely to be consumed by the eyes of men and the comparative eyes of women. Li challenges this idea in contemporary society with levity, and aligns it with the commodification of desire. She uses Tinder to find her models, flipping through men until the “ideal” ones catch her eye. Men seem to believe they have the upper hand on dating apps, however, with a large majority of them only agreeing to shoot with her if there would be an “even” exchange. In the end, she won’t meet up with them unless she is the one getting what she wants.

In her ongoing series Paintings, Dreams and Love, Li explores art history, recreating paintings by placing men in the place of the passive female in her photographs. Inspired by Hokusai’s  The Dream of the Fisherman’s Wife,  a man has been photographed relaxed in a bathtub, covered with slick, wet octopi. Inspired by The Nightmare  by Henry Fuseli, Li appears similar to the incubus in the painting, her gaze set strongly on the viewer, as she sits comfortably and fully clothed on a nude, white man in slumber. She recently collaborated with another female photographer, Steph Wilson, on a series in this vein entitled The Feast, with images of the two women sitting comfortably around table, surrounded by the bodies of nude men from different cultures.

She began exploring these ideas and what she refers to as her own “power fantasies” in one of her first series  Tinder Boys. The milky portraits of white men were shot in their kitchens, using soft window lighting that accentuates the stark whiteness of their bodies, inviting the viewer to admire their curves and anatomy. Li recalled a moment when she saw erotic images of women with food in the kitchen from the 1950s and became intrigued by the relationship between food and sex, in which the eyes eat as the mouth does. This gave her the idea to put these men in a similar position: to be placed in the kitchen and “feasted” on by the eyes of women. She was purposefully choosing white men as a commentary not only on the male gaze, but on the Western gaze as well, wherein she turns the fetishization of asian women onto white men.

She began placing herself in her photographs in  Your Reservation Is Confirmed.  She continued to choose her “ideal” white men for her shoots and began choosing “ideal” locations on Airbnb as well. From all matters of composition, it is  Li  who is orchestrating her shoots, and using these online services for her benefit. The men were set doing mundane activities — watering the plants, stretching — all while Li is clothed and directly engaging with the viewer. Within these images, the eye should arguably be drawn directly to the nude male in the photograph, but could it  still  be drawn to Li?

Her photographs have us question the power dynamics that exist between male and female in an image driven society. We have been conditioned to see the way that we do because of the images that have been fed to us for generations. Li and I recently spoke on Zoom to discuss the history of images, and society’s obsession and fascination with female beauty.

Alexandra Gilliams: Your photographs reveal the intimacy and vulnerability that men are capable of, that a majority of them keep hidden away. We are hesitant in society to show the heterosexual male figure as it appears in your photographs: soft, round, tender… something to be desired from a female point of view or, as you have said, something to have power over. Within cinema, there are a few directors experimenting with this idea, however these visions are not widely explored in the media, of course, and not enough in fine art either. Why do you think there is such a gap and fear of rendering the figure of the heterosexual male as anything but masculine?

Yushi Li: This is complicated… In Ancient Greece, for example, the main subject [in art] was the male nude. I think it wasn’t until the 18th or 19th century that the female figure became more widely used. You can see the differences though, men were always assertive and confident and upright, masculine in a way. Women in paintings always look passive, bent, soft… When I was making my work, I didn’t want to make pictures of men looking very confident, showing off. But at the same time, I dont think I am trying to make them look feminine, or like women. I am trying to portray them in the way that they look: soft, natural, and a bit vulnerable — human. I do find this soft-looking man attractive, it’s a personal preference.

We are seeing more and more naked men [in art], but a lot of these pieces are created by homosexual male artists. I remember when I showed my work during the “WIP” show at RCA in my first year of my Master’s, and quite a lot of viewers told me that they thought that my work was done by a male, gay photographer. Maybe, somehow, a naked man looks like a gay man, especially if he looks “soft.” I find it interesting how when there is a women [as a subject], it’s for the male viewer, and if it’s a man, it is still for the male viewer.

In recent years, there have been more discussions about the female gaze. There are a lot of female artists making work about these issues, but quite a lot of them are about females, or the female body. Maybe themselves or other women. To me, I find it interesting, wondering why women still cast their gaze onto women themselves. I don’t have problems with this kind of work, I just wonder why there are not more women who would like to present a more outward gaze onto something that is saying “this is what I want, this is what I desire,” instead of “this is me.” Since the second of wave of feminism in the 70s, there has been a lot of women exploring and questioning our own identities, and now it seems like we still feel quite confused or that we need to prove that “this is me.” I feel like maybe some feminists want to create a world that is all about women.

AG: Women have been objectified for hundreds of years in different ways, technically speaking, from paintings by academic painters, for example, and of course today using female bodies to sell products in advertisements. Dating apps like Tinder have only augmented the commodification of desire and sex, with men controlling these platforms by knowing what they want, usually casual sex, and scrolling through women like they are debating purchasing something on Amazon. You have described that your process of shooting these men is “a bit like a game for me – and I quite enjoy doing it.” Could you describe this “game”?

YL: When I started this project, I was using Tinder for dating, and I remember some of the men I met were quite direct, and very straightforward. They would ask you, “I am here for casual sex, are you up for it?” I began thinking about making some erotic images of men with food, and that maybe I could combine these things together… that Tinder could be quite a good platform to find people. I thought I can also be [demanding] like those men, where I’m here for photos, not sex. So I was quite straightforward, I would say directly “I am here to look for models, would you be up for it?” In my mind, I feel like it is almost the same; it’s kind of like hunting [laughs].

AG: I can imagine it to be difficult to stage authentic eroticism and intimacy, and especially so with men that you’ve met on Tinder. What is your process for shoots like? Do you prepare and direct your models?

YL: Yes, I direct them. Normally, I would meet them in public first to make sure that they are normal and not dangerous, and then I would go to their home. Sometimes I would already have an idea, what kind of food I would like him to eat, or I would just go for what he has. I would tell them where to stand, how to pose, but my photos remain natural looking. They don’t need to be professional models, I just try to make them look natural. Sometimes I would chat with them as well. I dont mind them looking a bit awkward or nervous because I quite like that sort of look. Maybe since we met on Tinder, there is a kind of sexual tension between us because we matched with each other, and I think that part made it more interesting and exciting to me.

AG: Have you spoken to your models after you have finished to get an understanding of how they perceived the shoot?

YL: I think I was really like a “fuckboy” because I got what I want, and I don’t really talk to them afterwards. If they dont ask, I don’t send them the images. Kind of like a fuckboy where I can’t be bothered, I don’t have time [laughs]. I think in general I don’t really like socializing with a lot of people, so if they don’t ask, I won’t send it. If they don’t text me, I wouldn’t really talk to them anymore.

I did show some of them the images, but they didn’t really give much feedback, they just said “oh that’s nice.” To be honest, I dont think any of them were really into art, so I’m not sure how much they really care about the photos. One of them said he looks very different in the photo, that he’s never seen himself looking like that.

AG: You have a new exhibition at the Union Gallery in London entitled  Women act, men appear,  as an inversion of a quote by John Berger “Men act, women appear.” Could you explain why you chose this title?

YL: That quote really stays in my mind because I think it is quite a strong sentence. I feel like it also summarizes the male gaze quite well, so I thought that it could be interesting to use the inverted version as the title because I am always the photographer, and I always want to be the one who is in charge. So even if I am sometimes in the photographs, it’s the men who are the ones being looked at.

AG: Could you expand on how your work challenges monogamy?

YL: I always photograph different men. I would try to look like I have no facial expression, sort of disengaged. I don’t want to look like I have some sort of relationship with them, in the way that they become something disposable, a different man, or interchangeable. I never really go very deep or explain a lot about this, but in China, we are more conservative, prude, and there is slut-shaming. In my mind, doing this kind of thing is rebellious. In China, if a man has slept with a lot of women, people would think that that is quite cool. But if a woman has had more than 5 boyfriends, people would think “hmm, she is not a good woman.” I am “having” a lot of different men, and I am not scared of being considered a “bad girl” in my own country.

AG: You are not only confronting the male gaze, but the western gaze as well. In your latest project “The Feast,” you began photographing men from different cultures, not just straight white men, while collaborating with the photographer, Steph Wilson. Could you tell me a bit about this project, and what it was like collaborating with Steph?

YL: The photographs are of me and Steph with lots of other men who are not only white. She saw my work I believe because of my video on  Nowness, and she contacted me on Instagram. She is also very interested in gender issues and the gaze, and she said we should work together. I had this idea for quite a while of having a feast of men [laughs], but I hadn’t done it yet, and I thought it could be great to do it with her, a feast for two women. 

I was talking about it with my supervisor [at university], because I did get a lot of questions about why I only photograph white men. I think the main reason is exactly because of the western gaze, because Asian women have quite often been fetishized by people in the west, mainly by white men. It was my response to this idea, especially with the images of me in them; there is a strong contrast between myself and the man. I am not restricting myself only to white men, though. At the same time, I also realized that I do feel more comfortable working with naked men who are not from the same race as me, because they remind me of my dad too much. I need a bit of distance to work with them.

AG: From the idea of incorporating foods and placing men in the kitchen, to using animals such as octopi as props in reference to Hokusai, this idea of utilizing the male figure can go in so many different directions. Where will it take you next, do you think, during a global pandemic, and beyond?

YL: I started a project that is a series of videos before the lockdown, before the pandemic. It is a coincidence. 

I “met” some men via Skype and asked them to do something mundane for me to watch. These men contacted me [initially] and said that they wanted to be in my work. I find it interesting that they wanted to be looked at, so I made these videos, again as a game of control. I would ask them to do something, like cutting a fish or taking a bath, but they couldn’t see me. I am quite interested in how the idea of the gaze or power relationships have changed in the internet age, which is why I chose to do it via Skype. When we are on our computers, a camera is always looking at us. They can’t see me but I can see them, and they want to perform for me. 

The video is a screen recording, and mine is black because I block my camera. In the first one I did, you could see me typing; I was directing him to breathe. I said “breathe in,” he would breathe in, and “breathe out” and he would breathe out. It was also muted so you couldn’t hear anything.

In the future I would like to make more of these videos, but in terms of photography, I will continue making more that are inspired by paintings and using animals, but it depends… The animal has to represent something, at least for me. The most recent [photograph like this] was with a man and peacock, because it represents vanity, and the patterns of the feathers look like eyes. There is a greek mythology about a giant with 100 eyes, where Zeus falls in love with another woman and turns her into a cow to hide her from Hera. Hera asks a giant with 100 eyes to watch the cow, but Zeus found out and had him killed, so Hera put his 100 eyes onto the peacock to remember him. It’s about watching.

I am thinking about making works that explore the male body. My supervisor told me she doesn’t think that my work is about the male body [specifically] as it’s always in an environment, there’s always some kind of activity going on, so I think in the future I will try to use the male body as a canvas, make it more abstract. If you look at art history and photography, so many artists have done this and have always used the female body. If you ask people why nowadays they will give you the same answer: because female bodies are more beautiful. I’ve heard both men and women say that they find the male body unappealing, and if you ask them why, they will always answer the same thing. The reason why we think women’s bodies are more beautiful is because of the idea that women are supposed to be something pretty and looked at; it is still so deep in our minds. If you look at animals, the male ones are usually much prettier. In some ways, men are beautiful, they have more hair, they are bigger, stronger, have more muscle. If you look in history, in royal English courts, there was a time when men would wear glamorous clothes or tights. To be a man you had to look this way… it was the way to show you have power. I think for a lot of us, it is how we define these things that could help to change our standards.

Yushi Li currently has a solo exhibition entitled “Women act, men appear”  on view at  the Union Gallery in London by appointment in January 2021.