Art and Gender Shapeshifting

A portrait photograph of Chanel Matsunami holding up a yellow silk sculpture as if it were clothing. They are standing in front of two long pink gloves hung on a white wall next to a pink and purple silk wall sculpture

“I love the idea of activating art through my body, through process, and performance. Being able to use wearable pieces to manipulate gender is liberating.”-Chanel Matsunami Govreau

Out Front Magazine spoke with New York based artist, Chanel Matsunami Govreau (they/she) about their art practice. Chanel is a performance, installation, and gender shapeshifting artist. She makes modular, wearable, artwork with screen-printed satin and found fabrics.

Would you be able to describe your wearable pieces?

I sculpt satin screen-printed textiles into installations and wearables. The wearable sculptures are all modular, so they’re meant to break away and come together in different ways. I remix the pieces to flow between masculine, feminine, and alien forms.

The sculptures can be worn to emphasize different parts of the body and in turn different genders. For example, there are two pieces that can either be worn as shoulder armor or as breast plates. I really like being able to take pieces and augment different areas of my body. When I broaden my shoulders, my breasts become de-emphasized. It allows me to be a gender transformer. Being in the studio and working with these pieces is like playing. It’s very much like making my own toys.

An image of an artist in their studio standing against a white wall with a shadow behind it. The artist is edited to be shown twice in the same image. They are looking towards the viewer holding up one of their silk wearable sculptures and no clothing besides that — Chanel Matsunami Govreau in their studio. Photograph courtesy of the artist.

This same work can also exist as standalone sculptures, appearing as shrouds, vessels or tombs. I’m interested in having conversations about the inevitable futurity of death or our gender variations from past lives.

This is how I reinterpret and research gender. In daily life, I’ve tried to play with my fluidity through clothing, hair, or fashion. However, these pedestrian expressions are never truly fulfilling. When I’m at play, I can be satisfied with my gender fluidity.

Is that like an experience of gender euphoria?

It is like that, but like maybe even beyond euphoria. I mean, beyond even gender. It feels like you’re meeting a different part of yourself or a different ancestor. In that moment, you can be starry eyed just like when you’re a kid and you get to transform and play and dress-up into a truer form of self.

screen printed silk sculpture with a cinderblock sitting in the middle. It is sage green with black designs and has significant symmetry. It mimics nature. — Artwork by Chanel Matsunami Govreau arranged in their studio. Photograph courtesy of the artist.

How do you relate your textile art to other cultural references?

I remain influenced by the toys and kimono my grandparents from Japan would send us during my childhood. My brothers received Gundam model kits, and as an AFAB child, I received kimono and cute stuff. This created a very culturally specific, Japanese American, gender binary for me. Like mecha robots are the epitome of masculinity, kimono and Sanrio are the ultimate femininity and Pokémon are delightfully non-gendered. In my brain, the gender spectrum is a jumbled-up video game of Japanese toys and colorful vintage kimono from the 90s.

This has permeated my body of work. I created a wearable series that looks like a cross between a Gundam robot, a Power Ranger, and a satin blanket. It’s a big yellow armor and it is very bulky. I began to think of wearables like these as Pokémon evolutions. For example, this costume can get bigger (evolution) or smaller (de-evolution) depending on how it is worn. I consider how this bulky armor could be reduced into a slutty bodysuit as a de-evolution. This is similar to how Pichu evolves into Pikachu, then into Raichu, but more femme and cunt. The concept of Pokémon evolutions helped me develop the modular system I use today in my work.

A portrait photograph of Chanel Matsunami holding up and wearing a yellow silk sculpture. They are standing in front of a wall sculpture of the same material. — Chanel Matsunami Govreau in their studio. Photograph courtesy of the artist.

Does your experience in the ballroom community show up in your art practice?

I was a member of the House of Ninja for a few years. I walked a ball in the yellow armored piece I mentioned previously. It was at the Latex Ball in NYC and Icon Jack Mizrahi actually did call me “Pikachu Evolution”- which I loved. Prior to that, I trained in a dance style called Waacking. Waacking was created by the gay, Black, and Latino community in the 70s, and performed to disco music. I loved being a part of these communities. I gained a precious chosen family. Walking the category of Bizarre also pushed me to make my wearable sculptures more immersive and story driven.

However, I don’t seek to activate my art with Vogue or Waacking. I would never submit it as part of my portfolio. These dance forms live in my body since I trained for many years. Inevitably, there are moments that the dance will surface or influence my movement. As a mixed Asian and white person, I don’t look to be a face representing a culture that I’m a guest in. Ballroom comes from Black and Latino LGBT community.

What’s currently inspiring you?

Lately, I’ve recently been inspired by the concepts of age and dirt. I’ve been collecting heavily used textiles, like old sherpa bedding, from thrift stores and my family’s closets. Much of my textile work used to be so crisp and clean that it felt like I was avoiding the body, time, and imperfection. I discovered a tension in this and began incorporating aged materials to give my work a time stamp, making it feel lived-in and connected to my embodied reality.

This shift has allowed me to become more relaxed in the studio. I used to obsess over preserving my textile sculptures—keeping them from getting stained or sweaty during performances, avoiding sunlight to maintain their color, and even agonizing over a smear of lipstick on the edge of a piece. But now, with my work serving as a stand-in for my body, these signs of wear have become integral to the story.

Chanel Matunami Govreau arranging a screen-printed silk wall sculpture. It is sage green with black designs. — Chanel Matsunami Govreau in their studio. Photograph courtesy of the artist.

How does radical play show up in your practice?

Recently, radical play has been about not trying too hard in my studio practice. I’m allowing myself to be influenced by The Tao of Pooh, one of my favorite books.

When you are genuinely in a state of play, you’re not judging yourself. You’re there for the joy of putting things together and not the end result. For me, radical play is giving yourself permission to not be productive and making time to prioritize fun and intuition in your life. I think the intersections between rest and play are very strong. There is a sliver of the moon that you might find with playing–it can create unexpected and vital openings.

Thank you so much for sharing so many delightful insights on rest, play, performance, art, and Death.

You can find out more about Chanel’s practice on her website at Chanel Matsunami

(https://www.chanelmatsunami.art/) or follow them on Instagram @chanelmatsunami