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Photographing the Soul of Cambodia: Interview with Sophal Neak
Sophal Neak was born in Takeo, a province in southern Cambodia, in 1989. Since 2011, her works—in particular her photographs—have been showcased across Asia, Europe and Australia. Her unique and uncompromising take on history and people, as well as her distinctive and powerful vision, has played an important role in contributing to the cultural re-awakening of her country. In an interview with ArtAsiaPacific, the photographer discusses her art and creative processes, her take on gender in Cambodia and more.
“Flowers,” your most recent exhibition, is currently being showcased in Phnom Penh, but your work has travelled quite a bit across the globe. How do you feel about the fact that your photographs are allowing more people to get to know Cambodia?
Allowing people outside Cambodia to understand the complexity of my country is really important, but I’d actually like my work to serve as a certain reminder for the Khmer people as well. Most Cambodians tend to stick with the traditional culture and perceptions. This includes, for example, that women have to be young and beautiful, or that they have to cook and have children. By drawing attention to these concepts in my work, I try to raise the awareness of viewers and invite them to move forward from these ideas.
Is it right to say that the idea of fighting stereotypes has always been a key element in all your work?
Yes. Since my first exhibit “The Rice Pot” [in 2011], I have tried to embed in my work the idea that habits and traditions are not fixed, and can change. The aim of that first project was to reflect on women and how their roles are perceived in society. I wanted the world to see how the rice pot has become the defining instrument of women, but more importantly I hoped these women themselves would understand that the symbolic link between them and the pot could be broken.
“Flowers” has a similar objective: to reflect on the way women are protrayed by society, through the filter of their physical appearance.
Since your work is deeply rooted in your country, do you see it as a tool of civic engagement?
I didn’t set out to tell the story of Cambodia from the start—I was just expressing my vision. But when I took “The Rice Pot” to Berlin in 2012, I realised the significance of what I was doing. It’s inevitable that the place where I create, develop and shoot my photographs would end up being embedded in the stories I tell.
I would love for my work to have the power of triggering a civic reaction, but I’m not sure if it’s there yet. I do believe that my photos can serve as reminders of problems and issues. We tend to get used to certain practices or ideas, so a bit of provocation can shuffle things, expose misconceptions and generally make people more aware. Transforming these feelings into a real “wind of change” is an entirely different matter, but this sometimes happens with the people whom I photograph.
How so?
It’s usually a result of deep conversations I have with them. With “The Rice Pot,” when I interviewed the women for the series, they started reflecting on these conventional roles themselves, and wondering if things could change.
It’s clear that people and their stories are at the very core of your work. How do you engage your subjects?
I like to work with people, interview them and listen to their stories. I flirt with memory.
Even though our relationship is one of artist and subject, we’re really engaging in the exchange and conversation together. The most tedious and important part of my work is the preparation—I never shoot impromptu. I always plan my photo shoots very carefully.
It seems that there are complex processes behind your photographs. Can you tell us more?
A lot of this has to do with engaging with my subjects, so I would normally start by informing them about my objectives and vision. I feel that it’s fundamental to create a dialogue: I never impose anything, I want the models to be the true protagonists. I want their stories—not just my artistic message—to be told. So the mandatory first step is to talk to them. If they like and understand the project, we move forward from there.
Next, I find an object that is linked to the memory of the person. Something specific that identifies him or her—like the rice pot for the women in my first series, or other items including oranges, plants and a magical Khmer cloth called yorn that I used in “Cham Norng” (2015) to portray Khmer born Australians, bringing back to life their memory of excaping the Khmer Rouge era. The last step is staging, which is actually quite simple: I photograph the person with the object against a background.
When does your background as a graphic designer come into play?
I think my photos and my work as a designer are deeply connected. I always plan, think, draw and then actualize. I tend to follow a story and adopt the design mindset when I take photos.
“Flowers” is a series where my design skills were utilized in a technical but simple way. I took the photos, printed them, painted on them, then scanned and edited them slightly in Photoshop, so as to give the flowers a technicolor touch. These reworked images are the ones I printed and used for the exhibition. I’d like to do this more in the future: creating art based on the concept rather than the medium.
What is the idea behind “Flowers”?
The key concept behind “Flowers” is inspired by songs from the 1960s in Cambodia. In these songs, women are always compared to flowers and men to flies. I enjoy the songs, but not the concept behind this comparison: men can move around and mingle, while flowers are bound to stay still. They are beautiful, but they are definitely not free.
Pairing women’s faces with flowers was my way of bringing this concept to life. I asked each woman I photographed to choose a flower. Oddly enough, they all chose different ones. One even chose broccoli.
We live in a world of constant snapping and sharing, the faster the better. In contrast, your approach is quite “slow.” What is your take on social media?
I am not on Instagram and I think Facebook is only good for sharing information. It’s great in that it allows the local audience to be exposed to my exhibits rather efficiently. To be honest, I don’t really like to share my photos online. It is not just a matter of copyright, as my work is pretty unique and identifiable. But if people see your work everyday, they will get bored. I prefer to keep it a bit mysterious. I also believe my photos need to be seen in real life, which allows for a slower, more thorough experience.
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