Meet Luz Kobayashi | Visual Artist

We had the good fortune of connecting with Luz Kobayashi and we’ve shared our conversation below.

Hi Luz, where are your from? We’d love to hear about how your background has played a role in who you are today?
My hometown is a sleepy little Southern Californian suburb about an hour out from Los Angeles. Its main draw is the several college campuses at its center and the “east coast” style homes littered throughout its neighborhoods. Growing up there was nice, for the most part. My parents always said it was the perfect place to raise kids, safe, calm, and sweet with an array of high achieving public schools. The only downside was growing up not white, not Christian, and not rich in an American suburb made me and my family an anomaly. Early on I accepted that I was “different” mostly because as a half Japanese American half Latinx kid with severe anaphylactic peanut and tree nut allergies, it was impossible not to stand out. In classrooms I was singled out as the “allergy girl” and I came to accept the title, somewhat pridefully in fact. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve seen my little suburb stay exactly as it’s always been, quiet, peaceful, almost boring, but still home. I’ve outgrown my adoration for its sleepy attitude, where trafficless streets were perfect to play on as a child now seem empty and the little downtown within walking distance of my house reminds me all too much of middle school. In my angsty years in high school, I realized that as thankful as I was to grow up sheltered in a suburb, I would always want to live somewhere more exciting. However, despite my teenage complaints, I will always have a soft spot for the suburban Americana of my little hometown.

Alright, so let’s move onto what keeps you busy professionally?
I work predominantly in photography and hybrid sculptural and video installations using both my own and found footage. I often reference horror movies, ghost stories, suburban Americana, and personal cultural traditions. There are many parts of my identity that factor into the work that I make, but I tend to focus on my experiences in a non-visible disabled body in relation to public, private, and medical spaces. I have sever anaphylactic allergies to peanuts and tree nuts. My allergies mean mundane places like restaurants, parks, zoos, baseball fields, movie theaters, classrooms, planes, even my own backyard are all to some extent dangerous. A discarded peanut shell from a passing squirrel, a box of Reese’s Pieces in a friend’s backpack, or a granola bar on the counter at a snack station all pose a threat that I have had to become hypervigilant of. Through my artwork I try to translate these fears to an audience.
One of my last pieces, “They Came from the Dinner Table,” speaks directly to my paranoia around formal meals. For many reasons prepared meals can contain allergens whether directly in the food or through cross contamination, this means that I rarely get the opportunity to eat them, and if I do I always have an underlying anxiety my body will soon be covered in hives and my throat will start closing. This project, which was a projection in one room separated by a wall viewed through a window, displayed 1950s etiquette films edited to reference B movies where a monster appears outside of a victim’s window. As a viewer stands on one side of the window, they look out to meet the gaze of figures 50 times their original size gnashing their teeth, gargling gulps, and recklessly reaching across the room. This piece is an exaggerated expression of my experiences at dinner tables, the sound of food amplifies, and I become overly concerned with what is being eaten and whether it’s life threatening.
Some of my artwork, like “They Came from the Dinner Table,” explicitly deals with food in a public space, others look inward at my own feelings in regard to being singled out as the “allergy kid” when no one really understood the severity of my reactions no matter how much I tried to explain so. I view a lot of pieces as an education on my experiences, as well as a point of recognition between me and others with similar afflictions. My artwork is an attempt to express the constant feelings that come with the realization that the world is dangerous, and the body I live in only wants to protect itself in the most destructive way possible.

If you had a friend visiting you, what are some of the local spots you’d want to take them around to?
Coincidentally my best friend has been planning a week-long visit to stay with me for a while, so we have had a tentative plan for a few months. Mostly our itinerary has been a jumbled mess of “I want to go there” and “ooo we should definitely do that,” but nothing has been assigned a schedule so the following is my attempt.

On the first night, I would take my friend to hang out around Sawtelle. We would get dinner around there and maybe pop into a few stores like Giant Robot.

Day two would be a museum field trip to both LACMA and the La Brea Tar Pits. We both love museums, and these two are some of my childhood favorites, and I would absolutely use her as an excuse to go to both.

Day three we would head out to Melrose. No specific plan would be set, but I would find a way to guide us to Maya, American Vintage, and Wasteland.

I absolutely adore the Museum of Jurassic Technology, so day four would be reserved for a visit.

Day five would be spent in Little Tokyo. Both my best friend and I have serious allergies, so food for most of the trip would be dependent on what was safe for both of us, however, I would take us to Monzo. Udon is one of my comfort foods and Monzo has some of the best I’ve ever had in the city.

Day six would be an afternoon spent at the Old LA Zoo and a night at the Greek. Maybe not the most practical of the days I’ve planned but, I love the haunted history of the Zoo and Griffith Park so touring around would be an ideal way to pass the day away before heading off to a concert for the rest of the night.

The last day of the trip is reserved for a beach day and shopping spree in Santa Monica. Hopefully lounging by the shore would serve as a calm end to a week of frantic travel from one end of the city to the other.

The Shoutout series is all about recognizing that our success and where we are in life is at least somewhat thanks to the efforts, support, mentorship, love and encouragement of others. So is there someone that you want to dedicate your shoutout to?
My older sister is endlessly supportive, hardworking, caring, and loving. Despite all the sisterly shenanigans we have put one another through over the years, we both remain unwaveringly loyal to one another. While I don’t say it often, I would like to thank her for everything she has done for me and dedicate this shoutout to her.

Instagram: @_luz_kobayashi_