“It took me a whole week to finally accept Đỉnh Q. Lê’s sudden departure. I am in deep shock. Today, I feel relieved to know that his body and soul are finally in a completely peaceful state, ready for the memorial service that will take place from April 15–18, 2024, at Thống Nhất Hospital, Saigon.” That was what I wrote to friends six weeks ago from now, May 26.
I first met Đỉnh in 2002 during “Window to Asia,” a workshop and exhibition at the Hanoi Contemporary Art Center, sponsored by Arts Network Asia – TheatreWorks, from Singapore, and curated by Trần Lương and Ong Keng Sen. My first impression of Đỉnh was of his kind, gentle smile and warm eyes. But the first time we actually conversed with each other was in 2003 during the touring “Identities vs. Globalization” exhibition, organized by the Heinrich Böll Foundation, when we exhibited our works with other 1968–2024 Southeast Asian artists in Bangkok, Chiang Mai, and Berlin. My admiration for his talent and humility grew from here. We subsequently encountered each other several times in exhibitions: at the Saigon Biennale (later called Saigon Open City) in 2007, when Đỉnh played the role of an artist and one of the three directors; in group exhibitions in Berlin and Myanmar; and in Santiago, Chile, where a selection from the 9th Asian Pacific Triennial toured in 2018.
Sàn Art, cofounded by Đỉnh in 2007 along with Tiffany Chung and Propeller Group, is the greatest treasure that Đỉnh has left behind to the contemporary art community in Vietnam and the wider Southeast Asian region. Đỉnh is the only founder who has consistently remained with the independent, artist-run gallery and studio throughout the years, an endeavor that has garnered him respect and admiration from his colleagues.
I remember vividly how the birth of Sàn Art brought new breath to the Vietnamese contemporary art scene when it opened on October 3, 2007, at 23 Lý Tự Trọng street, in District 1, with a group exhibition titled “The Future,” featuring the works of five artists: Bùi Công Khánh, Nguyễn Đạm Thuỷ, Mạc Hoàng Thượng, Nguyễn thị Tố Phương, and Tôn Thất Minh Nhật. Đỉnh and his friends established the Vietnam Foundation for the Arts (VNFA) to support Sàn Art’s activities. Đỉnh said at the time to Saigon Entrepreneurs Weekend magazine: “I find that many Vietnamese artists love their careers and are very creative. I am fond of their talents . . . Realizing that in the city today there are very few spaces for young artists to display their works for the public to enjoy, we established Sàn Art Gallery.” The journalist Thu Ngân wrote about Sàn Art’s opening: “Success can’t be confirmed on the opening day, but what is worth mentioning is the boldness to think and the fearlessness to do as young people do.”
Through organizing exhibitions, lectures, conferences, film screenings, and workshops, home to a library and reading room, and with the spirit of a nonprofit organization, Sàn Art has connected Vietnamese artists who pursue contemporary art practices to the global art scene, and vice versa. Many talented young Vietnamese artists have risen from the Sàn Art Laboratory since its first session in 2012, which included Tuấn Mami, Nguyễn thị Thanh Mai, and Trương Công Tùng.
From Session 5 in 2014 to Session 8 in 2015, Sàn Art provided funding not only for Vietnamese artists based in Vietnam but also for artists from and based in Southeast Asia. Many talented curators, artists, and art managers have nourished and sharpened their curatorial practice here such as Zoe Butt, Trà Nguyễn, Vicky Đỗ, Arlette Quỳnh-Anh Trần, Nhật Q. Võ, Phương Anh, Mary Lou David, and Dương Manh Hùng.
My first exhibition in Sàn Art was in 2008 in the group show “transPOP: Korea Vietnam Remix,” curated by Việt Lê and Yong Soon Min (who has also just left this life, on March 12, 2024, which deeply saddens me, too). My most recent exhibition in Sàn Art, “poems of the sky,” from September to December 2023, featured works belonging to my important ongoing project Trees, curated by Vicky Đỗ. Sadly, this was also my last encounter with Đỉnh.
Started in March 2015, Trees: Natural Cultural Heritage is a response to the Hanoi government’s plan to cut down 6,700 ancient trees. It asks vital world-making (and world-unmaking) questions about the loss of trees and human mortality. Sàn Art was the only art space in Saigon that I trusted to showcase this project, in the form of an open studio. Without the talent and determination of curator Vicky Đỗ, the dedication of the Sàn Art team, and Đỉnh’s enthusiasm, my controversial Trees project would have needed to wait much longer until it could be shared with the Vietnamese audience, due to the current social and political censorship.
The final exhibition at Sàn Art that Đỉnh knew of opened on the day he left this life, April 6, 2024. Featuring works by artist Nghĩa Đặng, it is titled “Humming at the End of a Dream.” Is it a coincidence that Đỉnh’s time as Sàn Art’s founder started with a show about the future and ended with one about someone’s humming at the end of a dream? I have a feeling that the last exhibition is a vibration that carries Đỉnh to his next new discovery.
When we think of Đỉnh Q. Lê, we think of one of the most talented artists of our time. From The Texture of Memory (2000– 01) to The Farmers and The Helicopters (2006), Crossing the Farther Shore (2014) and many other of his great works, Đỉnh has captured our hearts and woven new worlds in our imagination. He was a pillar of the Vietnamese art scene, and to many contemporary artists here, his gentle demeanor, his immense talent, and his unwavering commitment to the arts will be remembered forever.
In 2019, I interviewed Đỉnh Q. Lê about his life, his artistic practice, and the development of Sàn Art. Đỉnh generously allowed me to record the entire interview, which lasted hours, sharing with me behind-the-scenes stories of his life and art practice. I did not get a chance to finish transcribing that interview because of the tragedy of losing my life partner during the Covid-19 pandemic; but I will publish it in the near future.
I treasure Đỉnh Q. Lê’s glorious but humble presence in this temporary life. He was one of my best colleagues, willing to share with me through my ups and downs, through the difficult journey of practicing contemporary art. He elevated my spirit when I struggled, comforted, and encouraged me when I suffered the loss of my life partner. We shared thoughts about the ethics of and authenticity in practicing art. His sudden passing suddenly illuminates his legacy, through his art andt he spaces he created. Now that he is gone, I am speechless. I hope writing about him is a way for Đỉnh’s work to continue, although no words can express what is beyond words.
When we were sitting at Đỉnh Q. Lê’s funeral round table, with their teary bewildered eyes, Đỉnh's life partner of 30 years Ngô Minh Hảo, and Nguyễn Thuỵ Diễm, Đỉnh's assistant of 10 years, shared with me the last photograph he posted as the cover photo of his Facebook page. It was a scene of his new studio being constructed, stretching out into the bay in his hometown, Hà Tiên. This studio is what he dreamed of as his last wish in life, a place he called (in other posts) the “Escape route” or “Little paradise!” The image shows the studio’s marble floor and columns, with three open walls overlooking the water, which make the space resemble a three-part/dimensional artwork. Floating just outside is a small fishing boat, waiting for something—as if that is the direction his soul wanted to soar toward, a poignant symbol of his enduring spirit and vision. No walls, no restrictions, so that he can freely and gracefully start his new journey, on the way to reaching (the shores of) the next life.