MARISSA SEAN CRUZ with ELIZA BARRIOS

On Marissa Sean Cruz's "lewis vauton" (2018)

Identity and authenticity are complicated terms, even before they come up for consideration by diasporics, including immigrants. As a poet, I've seen criticism in some quarters of those not overtly referencing Filipino experiences in their work (such can be one peril of (“abstract”) art by a person of color not moved to spoonfeed visual or literary narrative to anybody). Partly due to my history with such matters, I was drawn to Marissa Sean Cruz’s “lewis vauton” (2018) (1 x 2 ft., acrylic on canvas) as soon as I saw its image online:

Louis Vutton is one of the most faked brands in luxury goods—there is a healthy market for its popular but pricey products. My own purse-loving mother possessed a fake LV bag which I’d (half-jokingly) given her after purchasing it for $8.00 at a local consignment store:

For decades, aspiring fashionistas counted on counterfeit bags and products  to allow them to (pretend to) wear Louis Vuitton and other luxe brands. Part of the challenge was finding fakes good enough to pass scrutiny. But the tide also changed—more recently, many customers brag about their counterfeit products, indicating that much historical shame has been shed given the exorbitant prices charged for the real goods. (You can read more about it HERE).

Cruz’s portrayal of the fake “Louis” surfaced these elements, but also evoked how such brands are sometimes proof for many immigrants that they’ve “made it.”  In my family, such proof has been symbolized by brands ranging over Chanel (bags), Hamilton (watches), Dittos (jeans), Nikes, and so on. I recently conducted an informal Facebook survey on with Filipinos by asking:

Kababayan: For an essay I'm writing on the concept of immigrants (not just first generation but 2nd or 3rd generation immigrants) succeeding in their new countries, I'd like to know if any of you and/or your families ever viewed owning some luxury brand as having made it. Like, was owning a particular bag or shoes or watch etc some sort of symbol of success. Chanel, LV, et al... (As an example, I remember my mother once focused on Hamilton watches for this purpose...)

In response, several noted their and/or their relatives’ preferences for such brands as Mercedes, BMW, and Audi cars; Louis Vuitton, Chanel, Fendi, Coach and “anything Italian or French” bags; Levi’s jeans; Corelle plates (“sometimes it’s not the most luxurious brands but [what’s] … still slightly inaccessible”); Capodimento porcelain (which sparked the respondent’s bad memories of a living room dubbed “The Forbidden Room” for containing expensive breakables); and “anything designer.” (Since Filipinos were surveyed, one wit naturally had to note, “I get all my luxury brands from the thrift store.”)

The survey also elicited the response that those favoring luxury brands can be prey to “conspicuous consumption” or reveal the unfortunate “act of someone who does not know what else to do” when money can be better spent in support of worthy causes. In response, one replied that “dismiss[ing] the importance of luxury brands to new immigrants as selfish overlooks the complex and complicated need and fierce struggle to improve one’s life and that of the next generation."

In another unexpected—and poignant—reply, another respondent said that the luxury brand didn't show "making it" so much as fulfilling "their need to belong to something, whether it be to belong to an upper class or the western world."

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I’ve met many who have worn counterfeit luxury goods. It’s obviously more difficult to fake a Mercedes and other cars but not so difficult for bags, watches, and other smaller consumer goods.  Some of these Filipinos cheerfully admit the fakeness of what they’re wearing, even ahead of being asked the question, “Is it real?”  Last century, I was quite proud of my fake Rolex watch, thank you very much—$35 from the streets of New York versus thousands of dollars for the real thing, and I wasn’t embarrassed to admit it!

Thus, we come to Cruz’s “lewis vauton” which screams I’M FAKE! beginning with its misspelled title. Cruz's symbols hearken LV but are discernibly fake—it even lacks the L/V insignia that typically is sprinkled throughout the Louis Vitton product. Here's a close-up of Cruz's marks—

—versus the marks on a real Louis Vuitton:

Of course, it’s also most obviously fake because it’s a painting! It's a painting with a purse-like chain but which is not of the quality used in real Louis Vuitton bags as well as that the “purse” is canvas painted with approximations of the Louis Vuitton symbols.

Cruz's work is meant to hang from its chain against the wall (see first image above). But a closer look at the work shows the fragility of certain support elements. It’s possible, for instance, that the staples tacking the chain against the canvas might weaken over time, causing the work to fall to the floor.

This, too, is a metaphor: how many immigrants move to new lands, work hard, then face problems progressing ahead despite doing everything they're supposed to do to improve their lot?  Unfortunately, the streets of the United States are not paved with gold—a common trope I remember as a child in the Philippines where many desired to move to the U.S. for better economic opportunities. Nor do immigrants become weakened simply by poverty—racism, elitism, mistaken nationalism, and other factors come into play. Immigrants, like Cruz’s “lewis vauton,” often suffer from weak "supports."

When I hung “lewis vauton” on the wall, I decided to insert more supports—two nails—beneath the bottom of the canvas so that it didn’t rely on the chain’s attachments to the canvas—so that, over time, its chain supports don’t weaken enough to cause the painting to fall. Is this not also a metaphor—that one should support the weak? A country is only as strong as the weakest members of its population; a culture’s health depends on how well it treats the weak amongst itself: children, the elderly, the disabled, refugees, and … immigrants.

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While noting the discernible ways “lewis vauton” is not neatened around its edges or tightened in structure, it would be too simplistic to charge Cruz with sloppiness in her craft. For one, the untidiness of her craft helps embody her artistic concerns. On her website is this statement:

As a biracial Filipino womxn, much of Cruz's work acts as a rapprochement into the complexities of racial identity and reconciliation of sexual and social absurdities of daily "feminine" rituals.

Cruz's concerns are not tidy, not neat. The way she made her "Louis" also talks back at capitalism (which does not treat the weak or fragile well) as well as the absurdity of luxury items like a Louis Vuitton bag when one considers the alternative uses for the thousands of dollars required such products command.

I also wonder if the seemingly sloppy aspects of her work relates to a statement she noted on her Instagram:

“good documentation of work is colonial mine is bad haha”

The quote’s context is different than for “lewis vauton”, relating more to how she documented her work on Instragram. But the quote seems to emanate from the same point of view that doesn’t have faith that all structures would work: will the chain hold tight? Or, how long can an identity constructed for certain reasons—to impress others, to assimilate—hold together?

Indeed, as I continued to meditate over Cruz’s “lewis vauton,” I came to recall Eliza Barrios’ 2001 work “ES GEFALLT MIR…”.

As you can see from the image, there is a hand holding on to part of what seems to be a suitcase. The displayed part of the suitcase, though, is shaped like a handbag. I interpret this image as recognizing that the identity of the hand's owner is unformed or unknown. Relatedly, identity—especially diasporic identity—is not stable or fixed and can shift depending on various circumstances. The fact that the excerpted image is formed into (like) a purse also implies that whatever “baggage” is being carried is inextricably part of one or one’s daily life (in the way that a purse is always part of or near to the purse owner).

It’s interestingly synchronistic that when I did an internet search on the title, “ES GEFALLT MIR…”, the German phrase that translates to “I like it” or “It pleases me” I found a sample usage of “Mir gefällt es, andere Länder zu erleben” that translates to “I like to get to know other countries.” Certainly, that sample sentence can be attributed to immigration but the fact that the purse-owner is not identified implies a falseness or a lie to the statement. Whoever the "I" is in the statement "I like ..." is not known, thus, not backing up the statement.

It’s therefore apt that the backside of Cruz’s “lewis vauton” presents a blank canvas with the artist’s name. The artist didn’t sign her name on the front part of the work that’s displayed, but on the back.

This results in questioning identity-formation based on what the viewers (outsiders) see—hearkening how immigrants have to hide their true feelings, their true selves, in non-hospitable places to which they’d immigrated. More specifically as regards the nature of luxury bags, the image presented to the outside world (the painting of fake Louis Vuitton symbols) might be one of aspiration or success and yet such is fake or not really a true representation of the persona’s identity (or even perhaps desires).

By eliciting this meditation, Marissa Sean Cruz's "lewis vauton" shows both the power of art as well as her specific artwork.