KVT – at Art Vietnam

Traces of Memory at Art Vietnam is one of those exhibitions that should be visited.

Artist Nguyen Cam, at 65, belongs to the pantheon of Vietnam’s successful, respected artists. With his degree of international fame he could easily sit back on his well earned laurels and reproduce the themes and images for which he is well known but this exhibition offers a vitality that you’d associate with a dynamic youngster

Perhaps it’s all to do with the heart attack that lay him low in 2007. There is a luminance that strikes you as soon as you enter the downstairs gallery and are embraced by the three large black and white works. Since I saw my first Cam, about ten years ago, I’ve loved his unstretched canvasses and ‘Day and Night’ re-enforced that first sense of awe. These three are dated 2009.

For those familiar with his previous work, there is a sense of disassociation that is only brought back into focus when you see the selection of small, untitled, almost rough and tumble works that are a prelude to those that grab your attention on the third floor. You wonder if these 2010 pieces are maquettes for a future exploration of space, time and memory or attempts to compress experience and creative desire into reality before it has a chance to slip away. Whatever, they make a delicious viewing meal, and many are stunningly good.

It’s level two that makes your senses really come alive. The ‘Wandering Souls’ that come from the post heart trauma (2007/08) are almost un Cam like. The vivid reds, yellows, golds, and blacks as deep as moonless nights but as shining as raven feathers, are glorious. Opposite these the three ‘Traces’ from 2008 are landscapes washed and swept by tides of yearning that lead you to the large works on level 3, from 2008/09 which have a more subdued introspection about them and while referencing the Souls works, seem to question that earlier vibrancy and reflect on the initial sense of unearthly illumination of the three black and whites on the ground floor.

A recurring motif in Cam’s work in this exhibition, released for a while in the black and whites and only occasionally remembered in 2010, is the ginko leaf. Perhaps Cam’s belief and reverence of the ginko is the same as Goethe’s, a symbol of love and passion. But, then, the very singular ginko tree with its deeply cleft yet still whole leaf, has a raft of mystic tales wafting around it and I’m sure that if I knew Cam’s explanations I’d be able to write about his work dispassionately. But why would I want to do that?

There is one tale about a huge, old ginko tree outside Cam’s hospital window in Paris that was hewn down as he lay recovering and helpless to intervene.

I could embellish this exhibition with meaning reminiscent of O. Henry’s short story “The Last Leaf’ and, because Cam recovered and has shown us the results of a second gift of life, it could well work. But Cam’s works speak eloquently and passionately enough by themselves.