Cristina NualART

DomestiCity: visual research on domestic activities in dense urban areas

This photo essay was specially written for Urban Asia Week on ThisBigCity, a sustainable urbanism site.

I live in Ho Chi Minh City, the largest city in Vietnam, which last year already had less than half of the green spaces per person than the World Health Organization’s minimal recommended amount. In a city of over 7 million people that has lost half of its greenery in the last decade, each square kilometre is shared by 3,400 inhabitants.

The tropical climate has a monsoon season lasting close to six months, but it is the urban density that has increased flooding. Ranking close to 40th most dense city in the world, HCMC residents have developed some ingenious practicalities to cope with the city’s logistics, such as the ability to momentarily stop one’s motorbike and in only a few seconds put on a raincoat, as soon as the rain starts.

This photo essay explores the ways in which people negotiate the use of their limited living quarters. The available space in or around one’s sleeping quarters is fair game for all domestics. In a country where the majority of the population do not have plentiful wardrobes bursting with fashion consumables, the heat, humidity and pollution make daily laundry washing an essential task. The photos below illustrate the constraints of space and the inventiveness in finding a place to dry clothes.

 

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These terraced houses face what used to be the oldest mosque in Saigon, dating to the late 1800s. The lovely old mosque was demolished and the washing now faces the construction site of a new, monumental and glossy mosque. A huge plastic sheet stops some of the dust from getting to the clothes.

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These are the railings of a bridge heavy with traffic. As vehicles whiz by, locals dry their clothes.

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If you look up in Saigon, clusters of cables line the sky, framing this colourful apartment window.

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The balcony in this lovely old house has been adapted to offer extra space for hanging clothes underneath.

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Groups of construction workers are employed far from their home villages. They set up huts near the building site. There is little or no privacy. Women are often seen working hard on the construction site in the daytime and doing all the housework afterwards.

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A crane driver uses his work machine as a temporary home. He sleeps in the truck and dries his washing on it.

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A lorry driver turns the cabin into a wardrobe when driving from one town to another.

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The protruding wires from a destroyed house easily allow for clothes-lines to be set up.

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Many houses in this area are being demolished to make way for a new development plan. The residents that haven’t been moved on make use of the extra space to air their bed covers.

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A gate to unused private land is a perfect drying rack on a sunny day.

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The grounds of this small cemetery have been taken over for domestics by the residents of the surrounding homes.

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A makeshift home between a road and the river gets enough breeze to dry clothes quickly.

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Riverside shantytown near a high-end residential area.

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Roadside washing belongs to the family who operate a motorbike repair business on the side of a wide road.

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Houses are built very close to each other or even touching. Tin roofs cluster around one family’s balcony, a luxury space for clothes to air dry.

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A shack on a narrow street puts the washing in the road to dry.

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A hairdresser hangs towels on the pavement, which is rarely used for walking on as it is potholed and full of parked motorbikes. People often walk in the road, despite the heavy traffic.

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Another hairdresser uses their alley to extend their domestic space.

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One of the few (expensive) plots of land that are as yet unbuilt on. This temporary green space is used by neighbours who have no space in their own homes to dry their laundry. Once the construction begins on this patch, they will have to find another place for their washing.

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Early morning sunshine on the clothes in this alleyway.

All photos © Cristina Nualart 2010-2011

 

For more info on Climate Change and Urban Planning in Southeast Asia:  http://sapiens.revues.org/881

The wax sculptures by La Huy

Wonderful surprise to visit HCMC’s Cactus gallery on the closing day of this exhibition, and to find that it is their best exhibition to date. La Huy is a young graduate of the HCMC Fine Arts University who has worked mainly with paint up to now. This show features a small number of paintings, but it’s his sculpture which dominates, and which I find extremely original and interesting. The title ‘Sentimental Zone’ sounds quite despondent. Perhaps it sounds more fitting in the original Vietnamese. In any case, the theme of the show is intimacy and private ‘quiet times’, expressed with images of motherhood, angelic figures and religious books. The artist is a catholic, which explains the angels and the bible, but he also uses Buddhist imagery, perhaps because it is more prevalent in Vietnam than the imagery of other religions.

Sculpture by La Huy. Photo by Cristina Nualart 2011.A stunning opening to the exhibition, this pregnant dress lit from the inside seems full of corporeal life despite the absence of the wearer. Exquisitely finished and hung, the wax has a warm, satin-like glow. The theme that inspired the artist is patently materialised.

Sculpture by La Huy. Photo by Cristina Nualart 2011.An object that is a cross between a candle and a vase. A series of these remind me of Grayson Perry’s ceramics, but in La Huy’s work, the drawings, while full of energy and sometimes tinged with aggression, are mellowed by the family figures and the softness of the pliable wax.

Sculpture by La Huy. Photo by Cristina Nualart 2011.Books iced in wax. The pages have become transparent with grease and the text from the pages below is somewhat visible. Beautifully finished and hung, the symbolism is rich.

Sculpture by La Huy. Photo by Cristina Nualart 2011.This poetry in a bowl, titled ‘Pho’ (Vietnamese noodle soup dish), is a fittingly poetic ode to spiritual nourishment. Funny, beautiful and rich in meaning, I’d say this meal leaves one satisfied.

Sculpture by La Huy. Photo by Cristina Nualart 2011.This child-size cloak has transparent silk hands in prayer, with angels drawn on them. I find it very unusual to see art that inherits from Baroque altarpieces, and yet is refreshingly contemporary and not heavy with dogmatism.

Sculpture by La Huy. Photo by Cristina Nualart 2011.Buddha, in this piece, seems uncomfortably trapped. The idea of encasing objects in wax, however, is a happy accident. The artist  found a broken ceramic elephant pedestal in the street (finding random objects always excites creativity!). This reminded La Huy of his chidhood, when his father had worked in a ceramic factory and brought home some models as toys. Adding wax to the broken foundling served to repair memories and to direct new experiments with his artwork.

Sculpture by La Huy. Photo by Cristina Nualart 2011.In the foreground, Vietnamese national newspapers rolled into wax turns become scrolls of a warped devotional nature. In this room, I enjoy the witty mixture of ordinary food and daily information presented alongside lengthy religious texts that are by no means fast to consume or disposable and quickly forgotten.

Sculpture by La Huy. Photo by Cristina Nualart 2011.
My favourite piece is this bust hovering over a wax-coated podium. It looks very much like Magritte’s Philosophy in the Boudoir (what a fabulous title…), but this sculpture is less shocking and more human, despite the disembodiment of the torso. The radiating light, warmth of the wax and human-scale give it a personable atmosphere that removes any threat of ambiguity, which is what haunts us in the Magritte. This is, quite simply, beautiful.

Why does Vietnam not do well in the visual arts? (part 2)

Read part 1 here

My personal impression is that Vietnam, a dynamic nation with a wide multicultural heritage, currently shows little innovation in the visual arts. Here I outline the factors that I believe have caused this.

In a country with very high literacy rates, visual literacy seems to lag behind. For example, note the desperate shortage of visuals in the popular realm. Advertising is everywhere, but it often looks like this:

hcmc300met_ads_by_cnualart

In 300 metres, most signs are block text in primary colours. This is the norm nationwide. Pictures are rarely used, and when they are, more often than not they are used in a very literal and descriptive way, not a creative or aesthetic one. In this respect, things appear to have changed little since the 1960s, as can be seen in this old photo of Saigon’s central market:

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The dominance of text, however, has a proud tradition, and Vietnamese literature and poetry have been very significant forms of art for the nation (1). There are two reason why text may have overtaken visuals as a communication device: on one hand, the 1000 year Chinese domination of Vietnam could have fostered a localised literati tradition; on the other hand, apart from outstanding ceramics (15th century), Vietnamese arts and crafts were mostly produced for practical reasons, devoid of patronage or religious impetus to push creativity and prestige.

Artist Hoang Duong Cam comments that no native visual tradition exists (he excludes Dong Ho woodcuts, since he considers them a folk art, rather than a fine art). Cham architecture and sculpture created on present-day Vietnamese soil were in fact products of Khmer culture. Chinese influenced ink painting never proliferated in Vietnam, although calligraphic brush work has been adapted to the quoc ngu script (Roman alphabet adapted to Vietnamese pronunciation) that became widespread in the 20th century.

A French diplomat posted in Cochinchina in the late 1800s blames poor economic models, noting that, in contrast to the Chinese commercial and royal patronage of the arts, skilled Vietnamese artisans were taken in by the royal court and practically reduced to slavery, thus hindering any entrepreneurial craftsmen from honing their talent. With negligible governmental impulse to foster arts and crafts, only in the colonial missions, sheltered from royal monopoly, did local products of mother-of-pearl inlay and niello copperware reach masterful standards (2). Emperor Tu Duc, the last independent Vietnamese monarch, had splendid palaces built and furnished, allegedly financed with forced labour and higher taxes. Yet he was a keen poet and man of letters, developing a circle of writer friends. The Nguyen dynasty which ended with him saw the decline of the arts, with the exception of imperial court dances, music and performing arts (3).

In the 1900s, oil painting came along with the French, and therefore is considered a foreign art form. I find it amusing that nationalism has resulted in some anti-oil painting sentiment. No Western country puts down its oil painting achievements just because the invention and development of oil and pigment technique are not originally their own. In any case, the content of Vietnamese oil paintings responded to the market forces of French settlers, and didn’t change the course of art history.

In the second half of the 20th century war and financial distress continued to take their toll on art production. Propaganda art, inspired by Russian and Chinese communist art, resulted in some passionate creativity, highly articulate in its zeal. Vietnam’s communist closure to the world ended in 1986. Since then, the economic reforms made some people in Vietnam very rich, and generally improved the lot of the majority, although there has been no real democracy. This brings us to present day Vietnam. The clean-cut propaganda art style has continued to be used in government posters, but the new, bland and repetitive digital renditions lack punch and come across as watered-down brainwashing.

To date, any public performance or art exhibition must obtain a license before it is allowed to open. Censors can and do restrict cultural freedom of expression. The current rising economic power of the nation as a whole has not translated into a local art market of any significance. Most of the historically significant artworks made in Vietnam in the 20th Century are in the private collections of one French man and two English men. Gallery purchases of high-end contemporary Vietnamese art are made by foreigners most of the time. Commercially viable native lacquerware and traditional embroidered pictures are being made with a high degree of craftsmanship, but the subject matter remains formulaic. There is limited impulse, governmental or private, to make art a successful creative industry in the near future.

In his recent solo show at San Art, young artist Trung Công Tùng makes us aware of Vietnamese artist’s lack of exposure to great art. According to the press release, ‘Tung admits he has limited English skills and that access to knowledge resources in Vietnam, such as books on contemporary international culture, are few. His frustration with these restrictions is also laced with anxiety in how this context breeds ignorance and narrow-mindedness in Vietnamese society.’

The mention of English language being a hindrance may sound surprising to those who have come across art publications in hundreds of languages. The reality is that few contemporary art publications exist in Vietnamese. Occasional collaboration projects (e.g. Vietnam-Thailand, Vietnam-Japan…) result in a bilingual compilation that is often poorly translated/edited. Currently no bookshop I have come across in Vietnam stocks a selection of art books or magazines of any ‘wantability’, neither in Vietnamese, nor in English. In a developing economy, art and design books would not be accessible to the majority, who have more pressing purchases to make, but there is obviously no market amongst the local rich, who are reported to buy their luxuries abroad. I cannot comment on public libraries, if there are any, but I am aware that a permit is required to access at least some publications and historical documents. While the internet is not heavily firewalled, with limited language skills and not really knowing what to search for, how easy is to come across information on international cutting-edge art?

In summary, Vietnam’s complex history with multiple influences offers a playground on which to cement a visual identity, but economic forces have seen several waves of ‘brain-drain’, and too many wars. The present-day political and social scenario might well hinder the development of world-ranking artists, but not all is lost. There are a few artists driven by passion who are exploring creativity in their art production. Nevertheless, to encourage the growth of a flourishing art scene Vietnam should consider:

  • fostering critical thinking skills in schools and universities
  • reducing the red tape for exhibitions and performances
  • public or private commissions/competitions/grants/sponsorship
  • raising awareness of art as a cultural good/consumer product/investment to develop a local market
  • above all, opening up to international collaborations and increasing exposure to a variety of artworks. Working in a vacuum is not conducive to creativity!

 

NOTES:
1. Jamieson, Neil (1995), Understanding Vietnam, University of California Press.
2. Barrelon, Corbigny, Lemire & Cahen (1999), Cities of Nineteenth Century Colonial Vietnam, Bangkok: White Lotus Press.
3. http://www.vietnam-beauty.com/vietnamese-culture/vietnam-arts-/18-vietnam-arts/159-vietnamese-art.html

Why does Vietnam not do well in the visual arts? (part 1)

PhamCongHoang3 It was disheartening to see the exhibition, closing today, at the Applied Arts Museum of HCMC. The venue is linked to the Fine Art University and has occasional shows of random quality. It’s wonderful to have a space where sometimes students exhibit, and sometimes established artists, but for this reason there is little consistency in what is on show. Many of the artists who exhibit there are lecturers, as is the case currently. Pham Cong Hoang and Nguyen Quang Hoang teach in the Dongnai College Decorative of Arts [sic].

I find it had to articulate why I think this exhibition is so bad, whilst trying to ask the right questions about what I am seeing. On the one had the images in these mixed media works seem bland and parochial, and on the other, the techniques, of mixed quality, do not wow us with awe of craft. But I cling onto sparks that interest me, and try to find some factor that I haven’t understood that will exonerate these works from being a symbol of what art education in Vietnam might be right now. It pains me to think of what this exhibition says about the learning that many college students are getting here.

Whilst I believe that all artworks can be enjoyed on their own merit (and personal taste is moulded by many factors), it is an understanding of the context of works of art that often makes them so much more interesting or captivating. During the second half of the 20th century in Vietnam, the war and the Communist era prevented the general population from being in touch with global artistic developments.  Local art production was also hindered. Whilst a handful of forward-thinking and brave artists continued to push the boundaries of their own art, some even embracing abstract art, many enjoyed a career of producing ‘safe’ work that would not make their own lives too difficult – an understandable choice. It is what is happening since ‘Doi Moi‘, the opening up of the country in 1986, that brings up many questions, especially in light of the global interest in Asian art, particularly the burgeoning development of the Chinese art market. In subsequent posts I will explore my personal impressions on these issues a little further.

Now to get back to this disappointing exhibition. These are some of the artworks that have troubled me recently:

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Painting by Nguyen Quang Hoang, and detail.

 

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Mixed media work with hammered metal by Pham Cong Hoang.

PhamCongHoang2_detailDetail. Notice the silicone adhesive sticking out.

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Through the holes in the metal, $100 dollar bills are mixed in with ‘joss paper‘ or ‘ghost money’, cheaply printed symbols of wealth used for burning as a religious offerings. I suspect some interesting idea might underlie this work, but I feel I’m clutching at straws. In a few of his works, I see, or hope to see, twinkles of Picasso’s strong lines, and Odilon Redon’s surreal eyes, but overall, I don’t like any of it.

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Dat Thieng II
by Nguyen Quang Hoang. When looking at these paintings close up, some have folk illustrations and joss paper stuck on the canvas and muffled by paint. I’m curious, but can’t get past the fact that the overall compositions and painting technique are dull.

 

Saigon Creative – breakfast on contemporary art ideas

nualartsaigoncreative_by_melcasulThank you to all participants at this morning’s Saigon Creative talk, in which I discussed some of the most beautiful, funny or thought provoking art that I have seen in Europe in the last decade. Here is a sample of each (there is, of course, a crossover).

Thought provoking art by Xu Bing, ‘Where Does the Dust Collect Itself?’ (2004)

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Hilarious feminist art by Yolanda Domínguez, ‘Women in Ridiculous Poses’ (2011)


Beautiful art by Roger Hiorns, ‘Seizure’ (2008)

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Other artists discussed at the event today include: David Mach, Joan Fontcuberta, Mark Wallinger, www.thevacuumcleaner.co.uk, Christian Boltanksi, Mariele Neudecker and Polly Morgan amongst others.

 

 

Unless otherwise specified, text and images © 2012 Cristina Nualart