Thea Galang / Reclaiming the Gaze: Reviewing YELLOW FEVER!! by Jessica Wu

Before diving into this reflection on YELLOW FEVER!!, I want to take a moment to acknowledge that the exhibition took place in Mothkinstsis, the Blackfoot name for the traditional territory of the Niitsítapi (Blackfoot) Confederacy, including the Siksika, Kainai, and Piikani Nations, as well as the Tsuut’ina and Ĩyãħé Nakoda peoples. This place is also home to the Métis Nation of Alberta, Region 3. As settlers, immigrants, and guests on this land, it’s crucial that we recognize the deep history and continued presence of Indigenous peoples here, reflecting on how colonial structures, including the art world, continue to shape our experience of place.

I was excited to write about Jessica Wu’s YELLOW FEVER!!, a show that stirred up more than just admiration for technical skill. It made me reflect on my own immigration story, my place in Canadian art spaces, and the uneasy intersections between race, class, and cultural perception. There’s strength in how Wu’s work avoids appeasement—it doesn’t ask to be liked, and that’s what makes it resonate.

“Not Your Mama’s Culture.”

Wu takes direct aim at stereotypes with her zine "Not Your Mama’s Culture", which reads like a manifesto that tears into the colonial lens that so often defines “Asianness” in the West. One phrase stood out to me:

“Are things only stylish when white people begin to enjoy it?”

We’ve all felt this, haven’t we? The sudden trendiness of kimchi, turmeric lattes, or bubble tea. The same people who used to mock your lunch are now lining up to pay $10 for it at a pop-up market. The exhibition forces you to ask: Who gets to define taste, culture, and value? Wu’s printmaking background shows through in the tactility of her work, especially in the silk screened phrases printed on a 旗袍 (Cheongsam/Qipao), featuring motifs of birds and the phoenix. The Phoenix, 鳳凰 (feng-huang) in Chinese mythology, represents resilience and rebirth. It’s a fitting metaphor for what Wu is doing: rising from the ashes of racist and sexist narratives, only to burn them down again.

The words on the dress represent misogynistic slurs, assumptions, and microaggressions that many women and femmes, especially those of colour, hear daily. Paula Stone Williams’ TED talk came to mind, in which she speaks about how drastically her life changed after transitioning. Once regarded as competent and authoritative, she found herself suddenly dismissed and talked over, simply because she was now perceived as a woman and assumed to be less capable. That shift in perception echoes through Wu’s work; it stings because it’s familiar, a reflection many of us know too well.

Banners and Buzzwords

Let’s talk about the banners with the words “Asian Imports”, “Ancient Traditions”, “Oriental Delicacies”, and “Elegant Landscapes”. They scream with manufactured reverence, the kind you see in airport gift shops or corporate “diversity” campaigns. These banners mimic commercial design, but their language is unsettling. The West has a way of distilling an entire culture into a handful of buzzwords. Yes, our traditions and landscapes are beautiful, but when they’re flattened into hashtags and marketing pitches, the message gets lost.

“Oriental Delicacies” sounds fancy, right? But underneath that shine is something more insidious. Why are ingredients like soy sauce, jackfruit, or pistachio paste suddenly “premium” the moment they hit white shelves? I saw a bar of Dubai Knafeh, which is made out of pistachios, chocolate and kataifi (shredded phyllo dough), marked up so high ($28 CAD for one hundred grams) I had to laugh. The globalization of “exotic” food means that even the communities who grew up with these ingredients can’t always afford them anymore. When big corporations deplete one cultural resource, they just move on to the next.

Receipts and Printmaking

Even printed receipts become a site of meaning in Wu’s exhibition. Thermal printing used in receipts can be considered a heat-based printmaking process. The materials are cheap and disposable, but the symbolism is rich. One receipt displayed the rising cost of groceries. Another hinted at immigration fees: citizenship, permanent residency, green cards. It hit me: these are both systems we have little control over, and yet they govern our survival. Whether it's paying $75 for basic groceries or thousands to become a citizen, the message is clear: the cost of belonging is never cheap.

This made me reflect on my own story. I immigrated to Canada when I was eight, and my “worst” memory is sleeping on a cold bench for ten minutes during the trip. It wasn’t trauma, it was just cold. But when I tell that story, people sometimes look at me with this misplaced awe, like they’re wishing for a pain narrative they can sink their teeth into. Jessica’s work helped me name that discomfort. I don’t want to be seen only through the lens of struggle or ethnicity. I want to be seen as a full person. At times, I felt like a voyeur in the gallery. The clean white walls, the plinths, the mannequins… it had all the trappings of a traditional museological setting. The white cube format amplified the very gaze she was critiquing. These weren’t sacred relics, they were provocations.

One section of the show used lithography to superimpose racialized imagery over old gallery buildings across Canada, places with histories of exoticizing the “Orient.” It was Wu’s way of reclaiming space. Using one of the oldest forms of printmaking, she flipped the power dynamic. Instead of galleries framing the East, now the East framed the galleries. Reverse image searching of those women’s faces might reveal just how far back this stereotyping goes, especially in archival media, where women of Asian descent were often objectified or fetishized.  Wu’s layered prints challenge those narratives by putting them front and centre, where they can no longer hide.

Final Thoughts

YELLOW FEVER!! left me both empowered and unsettled. That’s not a bad thing. Great art should challenge us. Wu’s work is a powerful reminder that our cultures are not costumes. They’re not trends or punchlines. They’re not for sale in some overpriced boutique aisle. They are living, evolving, resisting. Artists like Jessica Wu are helping us see them clearly again. This show isn’t just about Jessica’s journey. It’s about yours, and mine, and everyone who’s ever felt like their culture was only popular when someone else decided it was. It’s time we stopped asking for permission to exist.

Thea Galang (she/they) was born in Roxas City, Capiz, Philippines, and immigrated to Mohkinstsis, Treaty 7 territory (Calgary, AB). Now based in Mohkinstsis, Thea is an interdisciplinary artist, growing more gluttonous with every medium she touches. They’re driven by curiosity, allergic to stagnation, and currently pursuing a major in Sculpture at the Alberta University of the Arts. They draw inspiration from the vibrant local art, music, and food scenes in Mohkinstsis, as well as from emerging and established Filipina/x/o artists in the city.

This is baby’s first written article. Be kind... or lie through your teeth while nodding slowly, red, glowing dot on your forehead.

Instagram: @tthheeaagalang

Visit the archive page for Jessica Wu’s YELLOW FEVER!! here: Jessica Wu - YELLOW FEVER!!