Charlene Kaye: A Rockstar breaking generational moulds
Responding to Tiger Daughter or: How I Brought My Immigrant Mother Ultimate Shame by Charlene Kaye
Charlene Kaye / Photograph: Savannah Lauren
It never occurred to me that Charlene Kaye’s mom would be disappointed in her, because my mom is proud of her.
One of the most daring things I did in my youth was politely ask my mom to drive my sister and me four hours to see singer-songwriter and comedian Charlene Kaye play a rock concert in 2012. Growing up, my Korean heritage was rarely discussed, but the unspoken thread of solidarity and curiosity was clear: of course we could go to see the cool Asian American lady sing her songs. Kaye dazzled at the concert, creating a significant shared experience for my mom and me. Her mere presence on the Gramercy Theatre stage suggested a possibility of normalcy that, huh, an Asian American woman can be the star of the show. But despite the concert bringing us together, Kaye's rock career was creating tension with her own mother.
In Kaye’s hit solo show, Tiger Daughter or: How I Brought My Immigrant Mother Ultimate Shame, she opens up about her upbringing and her mother’s continual expression of disappointment.
‘Tiger Mother’ is a term popularised by Amy Chua’s 2011 memoir, Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother. Chua, a Yale law professor, imposed an aggressive work ethic in her daughters. Looking back on this book, which I admired as a teenager, I now see it through the lens of white supremacy. The characteristics of ‘Tiger Parenting’ include wanting children to develop quantifiable, exceptional skills that can be leveraged for success, in terms of social status and financial stability. Strict classical music training in the works of esteemed white composers is a keystone of the method. This parenting style adds fuel to the model minority myth, in which Asian Americans are praised for assimilating to white culture.
Kaye’s mom, Lily, is not your typical ‘Tiger Mother’. Kaye’s depiction of her mom is one of irresistible glamour and whimsy. Photographed sporting statement sunglasses, a bold lip, and a Hawaiian lei, she commands the spotlight in the family group chat. Kaye’s childhood dining room featured multiple 6-foot nude portraits her mother commissioned of herself. She receives adoration and support from members of the queer community who flock to her in public. ‘Disapproving parent’ and ‘accidental gay icon’ feel like a funny mix, which makes me question what exactly this Tiger Mother finds so shameful about her daughter.
Charlene Kaye is creating her own path, a choice Lily Kaye finds terrifying and unfathomable. Seeing her daughter do this elicits shock, resentment, and something else entirely. Kaye shares stories of her mom eventually wanting to be just like her, going as far as recording a cover album of her daughter’s songs. Kaye explores this contradiction in exasperation: how can she want to be her and be disappointed by her at the same time?
Charlene Kaye / Photograph: Sam Pickart
The answer lies beyond this specific mother-daughter dynamic. Kaye was the first example of an Asian American rock musician I’d ever seen. She made it easier for me to pursue my art, and for my mom to accept this as a viable future for me. It seems the old pathways of safety for Asian American immigrants are becoming outdated. All of a sudden, Asian American artists are more sought after than ever. And yet, as the doors fly open, as artists, we still carry remembrance of the past, facing generations of programming that it isn’t safe to be seen. Lily Kaye exemplifies this shift in the zeitgeist, both rejecting and being enticed by her daughter’s creative boldness. In Tiger Daughter, Kaye faces these generational pressures head on. Her performance rips her heart open, as she shares with us the darkest words her mother has ever said to her, alluding to shame and dishonour.
Charlene Kaye is a rockstar, not only for the obvious reasons. Not just for her Guns N’ Hoses cover band, or for headlining at venues that - gasp - serve beer. Charlene Kaye is a rockstar of intergenerational healing. Staying true to herself in her artistic voice, she is revealing something in baring her soul. She dares to confront the most painful moments of her life, and transmutes them into something we can laugh and cry about, together.
By continuing to create her art, Kaye cracks her relationship with her mother open. From this place of vulnerability, she finds signs of genuine connection between them, in turn providing hope for all of us witnessing their journey.
Tiger Daughter or: How I Brought My Immigrant Mother Ultimate Shame, at Paradise in The Vault - The Annexe, Aug 7-10, 12-17, 19-25, 18:40
