Korean-born, New York-based conceptual artist Nikki S. Lee once hoped to be an actress. Now she examines the construction and interpretation of identity in works that combine performance and photography. Her acclaimed Projects document her transformation (sometimes drastic) and assimilation into a wide range of subcultures and social and ethnic groups--from sophisticated ladies of the finest Parisian circles to white trash in American trailer parks, a hip-hop crowd, punks, lesbians, swingers and, appropriately, tourists. In Parts, she departs from those snapshots of cultural identity--for which she has since become internationally known--to explore the ways more intimate relationships affect who we are. As ever, Lee appears in each photograph, and each is shot by someone else. Now, however, rather than revising her persona to fit into an existing crowd, she changes over and over to match single characters, guys, who are then partially sliced out of the image, as if after a breakup. These halved images clearly and disturbingly point out the empty spots, the striking dependencies and the ways that we all--women particularly--define ourselves through our partners.

Korean-born, New York-based conceptual artist Nikki S. Lee once hoped to be an actress. Now she examines the construction and interpretation of identity in works that combine performance and photography. Her acclaimed Projects document her transformation (sometimes drastic) and assimilation into a wide range of subcultures and social and ethnic groups--from sophisticated ladies of the finest Parisian circles to white trash in American trailer parks, a hip-hop crowd, punks, lesbians, swingers and, appropriately, tourists. In Parts, she departs from those snapshots of cultural identity--for which she has since become internationally known--to explore the ways more intimate relationships affect who we are. As ever, Lee appears in each photograph, and each is shot by someone else. Now, however, rather than revising her persona to fit into an existing crowd, she changes over and over to match single characters, guys, who are then partially sliced out of the image, as if after a breakup. These halved images clearly and disturbingly point out the empty spots, the striking dependencies and the ways that we all--women particularly--define ourselves through our partners.