Book tip: My grandfather turned into a tiger… and other illusions

The photographer never knew her grandfather; rather she was told a story about an adventurous legend. He died as a soldier during the Viet Nam War, and shortly after his death a tiger appeared at the home of her grandmother, who recognised the animal as a reincarnation of her husband. He returned so frequently, until she had to ask him to go back to the jungle. This story is an example of how mourning and loss can be overcome, or how familiy stories are passed on. Many of the motifs in the photo book should be seen as symbolic, offering insight into the photographer's life story. However, they go well beyond the private sphere, turning the monograph into a complex confrontation with life in the diaspora, with intergenerational traumas and with the desire for recognition and belonging in American society.

Pao Houa Her was born in Laos in 1982. When the Vietnam War ended, her parents – who were members of the indigenous Hmong ethnic group – finally managed to flee to the USA via various routes. A photographic artist, Her now lives in Blaine, Minnesota, and works as an assistant professor at the University of Minnesota. On the occasion of the presentation of Aperture and Baxter St's Next Step Award 2023-2024 at the Camera Club of New York – where the project was also recently exhibited –, and in partnership with the 7|G Foundation, the artist has now managed to have Aperture publish her first major monograph.

The photo book has a lavish design, offers different cover variations, and brings together a total of six groups of works from 2012 to 2022. These include the series that gives the book its title, in which she revives the history of her family before they left Laos. Other works deal with a scandal within the Hmong community, in which hundreds of families were cheated out of the promise of a new Hmong homeland, as part of a fraudulent investment scheme. In another series, sumptuous black and white still lifes of silk flowers, that her mother collected in her home, are juxtaposed with images of digitally-manipulated, overly colourful, floral backdrops, popular in Hmong photo studios or commonly seen on dating apps. The plurality of the design represents an appealing exploration of the possibilities of photography, from documentation to inventiveness, as, from Her's perspective, photography is “a truth if you want it to be a truth”. The accompanying texts offer knowledgeable insight into family history and the Hmong identity, as well as the photographer's artistic practice.