by Ky-Phong Tran

photos courtesy of VAC

The life of an artist is full of challenges. It involves high angst, a low income, and plenty of emotional and personal risks.

Being a Vietnamese artist in the United States can be even more complicated. That’s where the Vietnamese Artists Collective (VAC) comes in. A grassroots gathering of Vietnamese artists, the VAC was formed in the San Francisco Bay Area in 2004.

“Vietnamese artists have many challenges,” said writer Ly Nguyen, who also serves as executive director of the Kearny Street Workshop, a multi-disciplinary arts organization in San Francisco. “With our history coming here as refugees from war, art was understandably not a high priority for our parents. Survival was. Plus, art is seen as a radical pursuit. For the most part when we were kids, our parents encouraged us towards the traditional, prestigious and money-making careers like being a doctor or engineer.”

But photographer Thien Nguyen knows that a community without art—especially one that has experienced so much tragedy—would be detrimental. “Vietnamese people have been making art for thousands of years,” he said. “We can’t just pretend like we don’t have anything to create. Art can be many things, and for our community, it is something that allows us to remember our past, but also to create a foundation for our future communities.”

The catalyst for the VAC was an arts showcase and fundraiser held in a house in Oakland in the fall of 2003. The event was co-hosted by Tony Nguyen, a community activist, DJ, and arts organizer. Dozens of Vietnamese artists including photographers, painters, writers, poets, and musicians exhibited their work and hundreds of people filled the home.

Two important interconnected facts revealed themselves that evening: There were a number of active and hungry Vietnamese artists in the community, and there was an audience eager for their work.

“It was a special night. There was so much talent in the room, but even more importantly, there was an audience to create for and a community for the artists,” said Tony.

Not wanting to waste the momentum of the night, a few of the artists and event organizers decided to try and continue the effort. In the spring of 2004, they put out an open call for Vietnamese artists and the collective was born.

Graphic designer Anne Nguyen, who attended California College of the Arts, talked about the first gathering of the VAC over com tam. “I had never met Vietnamese artists my age before. In school, I was the only Vietnamese person in my program. I always looked for a Vietnamese name or a Vietnamese face. To find this group of artists who were not only smart and talented, but also defiant and willing to take risks—I felt connected to them instantly,” she said.

The call eventually resulted in nine core members who for the first time ever had peers who looked like them, thought like them, and shared similar concerns.

“It created a safe place for me to talk about my Vietnamese identity and how it influences my work,” said poet Anh-Hoa Thi Nguyen, who holds an MFA in poetry from Mills College. “I didn’t have to worry that my themes would be misunderstood. I can be more concerned about what it means to be a Vietnamese artist and how to negotiate expectations from both inside and outside the community.”

Painter Sylvia La agrees: “I paint about my family, how we’re ethnic Chinese and lived in Viet Nam and fled after the war. My name is Vietnamese and we speak Vietnamese at home; it’s complicated and at the studios where I paint, it’s very white, very othering. People there can see you more as a thing than as a person or artist.”

The VAC has two purposes: to support the members in their work as artists and to discover emerging artists. One key aspect of the collective is to create a safe space to be a Vietnamese artist, a place where art is not only appreciated but also revered.

“That space is terribly important for me,” said humorist and fiction writer Danny Thanh Nguyen, who is also an associate editor at Health Initiatives for Youth. “In the outside world, the nine to five world, art is underappreciated and often taken for granted. But in the collective, it’s a huge part of our lives. It defines us. And for some of us, we’re trying to make our livelihoods with it and that’s incredibly scary as it is. Throw in the stress our parents can create and it becomes even more so.”