2026



Angel Island Detention Barrack (Poem 135), Handmade natural pigments on Dongba paper, linen, grommets, 43 x 31", 2026
Angel Island Detention Barrack (Poem 135), Handmade natural pigments on Dongba paper, linen, grommets, 43 x 31", 2026
Angel Island Detention Barrack (Poem 135), Handmade natural pigments on Dongba paper, linen, grommets, 43 x 31", 2026

This work responds to Poem 135, one of over 200 poems hand-carved into the jade-green walls of Angel Island's detention barracks, believed to have been created by community agreement among immigrants held between 1910 and 1940. Hundreds of thousands passed through across nationalities, including Chinese, Japanese, South Asian, Russian, Jewish, Korean, Filipino, and Mexican, held in restless limbo under a cascade of discriminatory U.S. legislation, approximately 70% detained for months or years. 

The island sits within walking distance of some of the wealthiest zip codes in California and the country, their waterfront estates looking out at Angel Island as scenic backdrop, confinement and luxury sharing the same water, the same view, the same air. 

Painted on Dongba handmade paper from Lijiang, Yunnan, a region from which many immigrants originated, made by the indigenous Naxi people for over a millennium to preserve sacred texts, the medium becomes material to the work: what does it mean to paint on a surface made to hold memory, to work with pigments drawn from the same land these immigrants crossed toward? 



Angel Island Detention Barrack (Poem 135), Handmade natural pigments on Dongba paper, linen, grommets, 43 x 31", 2026

Listen to the poem in Cantonese


木屋拘留幾十天

所囚墨例致牽連

可惜英雄無用武

只聽音來策祖鞭

從今遠別此樓中

各位鄉君眾歡同

莫道其間皆西式

設成玉砌變如籠


Detained in this wooden house for several tens of days,

It is all because of the Mexican exclusion law that implicates me.

It's a pity heroes have no way of exercising their prowess.

I can only await the word so that I can snap Zu's whip.

From now on, I am departing far from this building.

All of my fellow villagers are rejoicing with me.

Don't say that everything within is Western style.

Even if it is built of jade, it has turned into a cage.


Translations:
Lai, H. Mark, Genny Lim, and Judy Yung, eds. Island: Poetry and History of Chinese Immigrants on Angel Island, 1910-1940. Second edition. Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2014.




Junk in full sail (China Camp, 1860s), Indigo, oysters and mussel shells, charcoal bark pigments on Dongba handmade paper, linen, grommets, 12 1/2 x 15 1/2", 2026

Painted from a historical photograph of the Grace Quan navigating the choppy waters of San Francisco Bay, this work sits with the thriving shrimping communities Chinese immigrants built after being violently pushed out of San Francisco. China Camp was one of approximately 26+ such villages along the Bay, harvesting and exporting over 3 million pounds of dried shrimp annually. 

C-13 Junk with 3 crew members (China Camp, 1860s), Indigo, oysters and mussel shells, charcoal bark pigments on Dongba handmade paper, linen, grommets, 15 x 11 1/2”, 2026
C-13 Junk with 3 crew members (China Camp, 1860s), Indigo, oysters and mussel shells, charcoal bark pigments on Dongba handmade paper, linen, grommets, 15 x 11 1/2”, 2026
C-13 Junk with 3 crew members (China Camp, 1860s), Indigo, oysters and mussel shells, charcoal bark pigments on Dongba handmade paper, linen, grommets, 15 x 11 1/2”, 2026

This work begins with a specific creek. Lagunitas Creek in Marin County is one of the only places left in California where wild coho salmon still return to spawn each winter, moving upstream through old growth redwood and bishop pine, through fog and dark water and root systems that have been holding this hillside together for centuries. 

The Coast Miwok indigenous peoples have lived in relationship with this exact landscape for thousands of years, and their understanding of the forest, water, and fish as an interconnected living system is something Western science is only beginning to catch up to. 

The redwood shelters the creek from heat that would kill the young fish. Its roots hold the streambed and create the shallow pools where salmon rest and spawn. When the salmon die, they in turn feed the trees, the soil, the birds, and generations of their own kin beyond. The natural world, of which we are a part, has been in conversation with itself across deep time, and Indigenous stewardship is part of what has kept that relationship known and tended. The near disappearance of salmon from these waterways and the dispossession of Indigenous communities through the Mission system and colonial land seizure are connected histories, and they carry a lesson we have not yet fully learned.



Coho Salmon Return (Coast Miwok), Natural earth and mineral pigments on Dongba handmade paper, linen, grommets, 25 x 43”, 2026





Wildfire Burnt Truck II, Charcoal, redwood, serpentinite, oyster shells on Dongba handmade paper, linen, grommets, 8 x 10”, 2026

© 2026 Catherine Wang McMahon. All Rights Reserved.