Vy Trịnh is a young artist/sculptor whose work studies the intricate relationship between individuals and urban spaces. With a keen eye for the constant transformation of cities, Vy captures the essence of rapid urbanization and its impact on the lives of those who inhabit these evolving environments. Through her drawings and sculptures, she creates visual narratives reflecting the textures and conditions of contemporary societies she’s a part of.

Vy’s artistic practice draws inspiration from her hometown of Saigon, Vietnam, and the bustling metropolis of New York City. Her work references the structures and materials of the built environment, particularly those in a state of flux. The marks, sketches, and lines in her drawings convey a sense of immediacy, mirroring the ever-changing nature of the cityscape. Vy’s sculptures, often incorporating discarded objects found on construction sites, explore the transformative power of materials and their connection to the histories and uses within the urban environment. By engaging with the traffic of objects, different forms of labor, and the negotiation of categories within urban spaces, Vy’s art prompts dialogue and reflection on the dynamic relationship between materiality, time, and urban life.

Vy holds a Master of Fine Arts degree from the University of Pennsylvania and a Bachelor of Fine Arts from Parsons, the New School for Design. Her dedication has been recognized through various awards and grants, including the Christopher Lyon Memorial Award and the Graduate Student Research Award from the Humanities Urbanism Design Initiative (H+U+D). Vy’s work has been exhibited in venues such as White Columns in New York, AUTOMAT and Atelier Art Gallery in Philadelphia, and dōdōmu Gallery in Brooklyn.

VAC: The city landscapes of Saigon and New York City are significant inspirations for your work. How do these two cities differ in urban characteristics, and how do they influence your artistic approach and themes?

Vy: Growing up in Saigon and later studying in New York City at Parsons, I've always loved energetic cities. The dynamic energy of different lives is embedded in each and every corner. One notable difference between Saigon and New York City is the mode of transportation. In Saigon, motorbikes and cars dominate, while in NYC, most people walk and take the subway. The shift in transportation modes affects our perception, altering how we see and experience things via speed. Speed alters perception. Walking is different from driving a motorbike or a car because your body and the extension of your body (the vehicle) move through space differently. If you take the subway, you are moving inside a container underground. I think moving through spaces in cities informed a lot of my beliefs in sculpture before I even started making sculptures seriously [laugh]

VAC: So, for your latest project, Overvoltage (a site-responsive intervention at the Gia Lam Train Factory in Hanoi), is it a challenge for you to find connections with the space, the city (which might appear unfamiliar to you) and then convey it through your works?

Vy: Hanoi presents a unique case for me, as I don't have personal connections to the city despite having visited it a few times. However, upon my first encounter with the Gia Lam Train Factory, I was intrigued by the electric supply room instantly. Working on this project on-site means that the materials and supplies are sourced from the local area, adding to the distinct, immediate nature of the project. There are certain parameters that I have to work with, such as time, labor, etc, and the work expands upon but also a result of these.

Vy: Challenges arise from the unfamiliarity of working on a site-specific project. I am accustomed to working in my studio and then transporting my work to a designated exhibition space. Here, everything is embedded within the site's proximity and surrounding environments, adding a new dimension to the project. This is not only my first site-specific and responsive intervention, but it is also a chance for me to work on a larger scale, which I find immensely satisfying as a sculptor. It is a pleasure to challenge myself and think in terms of space, and I am grateful for the opportunity to see everything come together in this way.

VAC: The act of construction, deconstruction, and disappearance over time is a recurring theme in your work, I can see it going on at this site-responsive intervention. Can you share more about these concepts or delve into the message or story behind them?

Vy: In my work, I think a lot about addition and subtraction in my process. I am intrigued by the push and pull, the energy and dynamics within the artwork. Rather than focusing on individual pieces, I view my body of work as an ongoing exploration. Found objects play a significant role in my work, but they never remain static. Through a process of becoming, they are transformed by the addition or removal of elements. I seek to create ever-evolving networks and assemblages, rejecting the notion of static objects or fixed artifacts.

Vy: There is this quote I like from Giovanni Anselmo that says, "The energy in a torsion lives with its true force; it would not live, of course, only through its form.” I use disparate materials and fragments of objects from different economies and ecologies. Bending, joining, heat-wrapping, leaning, and taping become methods of transition – how one thing becomes another, how an overall form is created. I want to move beyond the experience and/or recognition of annotations, signs, and images and let the works operate the way sculptures are supposed to operate, as expressions of processes and making methodologies.

VAC: So it’s more about the dynamic of the objects, not just the object itself?

Vy: Exactly; for example, you can see on the sidewalks here how moped tires are both makeshift signs for automotive repair businesses and stools for resting and eating. Or how the fans in domestic spaces often appear on the streets for ventilation for workers and vendors. I am intrigued by how a common domestic object transverses boundaries (interior – exterior, domestic – public). Thinking through the framework of the Haitian anthropologist Michel-Rolph Trouillot, objects become signs of encounter and systems, grounding the immediate locality and scaling outwards.

Vy: I think this brings back to my earlier interest in the urban and the built environment, especially the streets. Taking cues from the ways in which everyday people inhabit these material processes from the street level, my making tendencies and visual cues emerge from and are conditioned by the fabric of the built environment. Perhaps this is the most quoted phrase by William Gibson, "The street finds its own uses for things,” but it has always resonated with me and my practice.

VAC: Then how would you translate these actions & reactions, or socio-economic conditions of contemporary societies, into visual art? How do you address them in your work, or how do you approach the process of forming visual expression through sculptures?

Vy: I find it intriguing when ordinary objects and networks of objects can extend beyond themselves and reflect larger social and economic structures. I am influenced by Veena Das’s idea of textures of the ordinary that reject the philosophy of relativism, thus saying how meaning is lived as forms of life rather than as stable essences. There is a term she uses called “tissues of every action,” and I think about that in relation to the objects that I work with. This approach translates into the ways in which I choose to work with materials. I take into consideration material socio-economic histories and their functionalities in industrial usages. However, I do not always abide by these uses to refrain from replicating or remaking. For example, I use bondo (an automotive body filler) as an adhesive to refer to the automotive industry but also use it for surfacing purposes because of the object’s ready-made color. Similarly, the people who inhabit the sidewalks constantly “misuse” objects and materials out of necessity, urgency, and creativity. This adaptive, quirky, and responsive way of making forms an aesthetic that I have adopted in my work so far.

Vy: For me, the challenge lies in translating these ideas into visual forms. It involves not only how I perceive the objects themselves but also how I convey their dynamics. For me, it’s all about trying to highlight their transformative nature and the intricate relationships they represent.

VAC: How do you see these dialogues unfolding then, and what do you hope viewers take away from engaging with your art?

Vy: The nature of my work is inherently labor-intensive, as I find a sense of fulfillment in investing significant time and effort into it. There is a power dynamic relationship between me and the work as I work on it, almost as if we are engaged in a dialogue instead of me just trying to remake an idea. Through processes of addition and subtraction, labor makes and unmakes; it shapes and transforms the work. In my practice, methodologies and material content are intertwined, insisting on resourcefulness and a make-shift ethos indebted to the city’s polyrhythmic, cyclical, and sedimented material environment.

Vy: Regarding viewers' reception of my work, I don't have specific expectations or aim to evoke particular feelings. Once the work has its own presence in the world out there, I no longer have control over how it is received. I do not think I should try to control what I can not control either.

Vy: Art does what it is supposed to do for me. Even during the making process, I avoid excessively controlling the work because the work always knows what it wants. It is funny that I can be a control freak in certain aspects of my life, but making art teaches me to surrender. I am always at the service of my work.

Vy: Ultimately, the work speaks to the viewer on its own terms. I believe that viewers should have their own genuine and unfiltered reactions to the work. I always appreciate the raw and honest encounter between the viewer and the artwork, avoiding the imposition of predetermined expectations or formulaic responses.

VAC: No expectation for the viewers; how about your expectations for yourself as an artist? What themes or ideas are you excited to explore in your future projects?

Vy: I have lots of expectations for myself [laugh]. There is this saying that I live by: “You are only as good as your last work.” I always want to push myself and my practice further; every day counts for me. Have the courage to take risks, work hard, and have fun.

Vy: Looking ahead, science fiction has gradually found its way into my work, though not yet overtly. I will just keep it at that for now.

VAC: A bit futuristic I would say?

Vy: Right. And another theme I want to explore further is our network of material entanglements, either in physical, chemical, or commercial forms, through multiscalar magnitudes and how they connect to global politics. The ebbs and flows of factory production, circuits of commerce, and consumption in the age of global capital fascinate me, and I intend to conduct further research to explore these dynamics in future projects.

VAC: Fabulous, which leads to the last question: how do you balance between being inspired by your favorite artists or what’s happening around you and at the same time staying true and original to your artistic practice without being affected?

Vy: I do not have a single favorite artist as I stay engaged from diverse sources from my life. I do not believe in waiting for inspiration; I think most of the time, we just have to show up and start the work, and somehow “inspirations” will come. Anthropologist Tim Ingold observes structures such as birds’ nests are not predetermined but acquired through weaverbirds’ habitual adaptations, depending on their environments. It is the pattern of regular movement, not the idea, that generates the form. I think inspirations come and disappear, but “regular movement” always stays.

Vy: Being attuned to the world, making things, and staying intellectually curious fuel my creative process. The joy of creating, trusting the process, and embracing intuition sustain my artistic practice. Joy is important to me. It keeps me going every day. Beyond making, sculpture, to me, is a way of living, looking, and moving through the world dimensionally, foregrounding the textures of the ordinary.

Vy: About the latter half of the question, I think we are living in a world filled with distractions so I just try my best to stay laser-focused. Also, it is being honest and to get to know myself. I think I make better works when I know myself better. My mentor always told me to just focus on the work, and everything else will work itself out. And I believe in it.

Vy: To me, the greatest gift of making art is being free. Making allows me to feel liberated from other constraints in my life. So yes, I guess, for me, it’s all about the honesty and the courage to be free.

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Image caption (from top):

1. Photo of Vy Trinh, © Nguyen Anh Hao, courtesy of the artist.

2. Installation view, Overvoltage, Vy Trinh's site-responsive intervention at the Gia Lam Train Factory in Hanoi, under the framework of UNESCO's Hanoi Festival of Creative Design 2023, 18 Nov - 31 Dec; courtesy of Vietnam Art Collection.

3. Honda (KIA), 2023, found bumper, PETG, metal rod, nickel plated steel ball chain, brass, flux, cable zip tie, and epoxy putty, 48 x 40.5 x 53 cm; courtesy of the artist.

4. Honda Dream I, 2022, Honda Dream II moped chassis (bought from an automotive repair shop in Saigon), found dolly, Senko fan guards, wood, found posters, adhesive, aluminum, bondo, plastic wrap, and epoxy putty, 175 x 157 x 121 cm; courtesy of the artist.

5. High Hope, 2022, metal threaded rod, alminum, plastic wrap, and bondo, 206 x 68.5 x 53 cm; courtesy of the artist.