Known as an artist, a curator, an art educator, and sometimes an art critic, could you share about the role of the artist in our contemporary society?

Artists in contemporary society cannot play the same role as before. That’s how contemporary art is formed—with more powerful and more in-depth interactions with specific social issues, the human impact on the natural environment (both positive and negative), and psycho-physiological issues of people in the process of “development”. The background of interest and interaction has become more expansive as well as more intricate, and artists need multifaceted skills, methods, and bodies of knowledge that go beyond traditional requirements.

Therefore, to fulfil their work, artists themselves need stronger abilities in research, criticism, organisation, curation, etc., and should not completely rely on experts. These multi-roles have such origins; however, the specific allocation and arrangement are up to each individual.

In my personal experience, I find rehearsing multiple roles at once beneficial for both myself and each field I practice, as they complement one another, provide information and experience, improve the quality of work and perception, and bring greater depth. As long as one complies with principles of fairness and transparency, and in each field places its criteria and purpose first.

In the 2000s, you actively participated in community development projects such as “Mao Khe Coal Mine Project” (2001) and “Drops of Water” (2005). Can you share the relationship between contemporary art and community development projects?

The nature of contemporary art is closely related to daily life—from arising emotions, content, and the author’s concerns, to mediums, materials, and language. Therefore, the participation of contemporary artists and the application of contemporary art forms in community development projects are both natural and effective.

One point worth mentioning is that the forms and means of contemporary art have escaped specific academic materials, traditional sites of display or performance, and institutional working structures.

My participation in many community development projects stemmed from the belief that artists should step out of the ivory tower and away from grand narratives. When working on these projects, I realised that I was still too unrealistic, bureaucratic, and “naive”. Reality, however, provided materials, energy, and assertiveness for artistic creation. Materials and ideas from community development projects could also be recreated into artworks. I don’t think these projects cost me time or energy for art; on the contrary, they made contemporary art more abundant, meaningful, and deeply supportive.

In 2007, you partook in the discussion “Just drove but the fuel tank is empty” at the conference “20 Years of Doi Moi (1986–2006)”, presenting a powerful manifesto critiquing Vietnamese contemporary art. Looking back 14 years later, do you think your proposed changes have been implemented, and are there positive signs today?

There have been no obvious changes to my recommendations after 14 years. However, the efforts of the artist community, independent professionals, and art-loving individuals and organisations have brought significant changes to the contemporary art scene. Spontaneous private groups and organisations continue to arise, though many also fail.

The “opening up” has connected overseas energy with local practice, and Vietnamese artists and contemporary art have benefited greatly from regional and global engagement. However, international contemporary art still has no way to truly enter Vietnam: there are no contemporary art festivals or major international exhibitions, meaning Vietnam offers little reciprocal value. This proves that we still do not have enough infrastructure for art to develop.

You have curated and organised international exhibitions such as “Lim Dim” (2009), Singapore Biennale (2013), and “Mien Meo Mieng” (2015), and also participated as an artist. How do you think the image of Vietnam has changed internationally over the past two decades?

The image of Vietnamese contemporary art has two faces: (1) overseas Vietnamese artists, and (2) artists who grew up and live in Vietnam. Until the 2000s, the second face was largely unnoticed internationally, while the first had already gained a firm foothold. Its success stemmed from the mindset shaped by a history of war and separation.

The second face began to appear gradually from the end of the 2010s. Although it has surfaced more frequently and clearly since then, its position is still heavily overshadowed by overseas Vietnamese artists.

In general, contemporary Vietnamese art includes both faces, as they are tied to the fate and future of the nation, and both have participated in international exhibitions since 2000. Recently, this imbalance has improved, yet Vietnam still lacks a clearly defined contemporary art identity like some Southeast Asian countries. The historical wound remains fresh, and its cost will take time to repay. “Why?” and “How?” remain open questions.

You have co-founded and run Nha San Studio (1998–present), Hanoi Center for Contemporary Art (2001–2003), and now the Center for Art Patronage and Development (APD) (2020–present). Could you share the differences between these roles and your vision for APD?

These three initiatives occupy different positions within different social contexts. The Hanoi Center for Contemporary Art was an adventurous experiment, misaligned in timing, so its short lifespan was foreseeable. Nevertheless, it was worth doing, as its model created a new and distinct practice for Vietnam at the time and offered a visual point of comparison and reflection.

APD differs from conventional art spaces. I have gathered experience and conducted research to develop a “different” type of entity—one that suits Vietnam’s conditions while remaining forward-looking on a global level. Its difference should not be revealed hastily, but fundamentally it will be a site of practice across many aspects, always interacting and engaging in dialogue. Exhibitions are not its focal point.

The practices at APD straddle the boundaries between art and other creative and social movements, and its form may change according to circumstances.

Thank you for your time!