AiRViNe

Original interview: https://cy-hiroo.jp/people/tran-thao-mienn_guyen-vu-tu-hang/
In occasion of Trần Thảo Miên’s “I teach my hand to sleep” solo exhibition in Courtyard Hiroo, Minato-ku, Tokyo, Japan.

About the exhibition: https://cy-hiroo.jp/gallery/tran-thao-mien/
https://hanoigrapevine.com/2026/01/i-teach-my-hand-to-sleep/

On this occasion, we interviewed Trần Thảo Miên, who will hold her first solo exhibition in Japan, made possible through an artist-in-residence project held in Toyama Prefecture in 2025, as well as Nguyễn Vũ Tú Hằng, Co-founder of AiRViNe (Artist-in-Residence Vietnam Network).

We asked them about what led them to pursue a path in art and about their activities in the field of artist residencies.

Interview with the artist: Trần Thảo Miên

Q:  
Please tell us about your career to date. 

A:  
After studying fashion technology in London, I worked in the fashion industry in both London and Hanoi. My experience includes working with designer brands at London Fashion Week and large-scale apparel companies in Vietnam, such as what was then the Vietnamese equivalent of UNIQLO. 

Q:
Why did you switch from the fashion industry to the art world? 

A: 
I witnessed the “waste” behind mass production at a company where I used to work. At a medium-sized knitting factory, they once incinerated about 150 kilograms of brand-new thread in a single day simply to reduce storage costs. Because bulk orders were cheaper, the factory would purchase 1,000 kilograms even when only 800 were needed, and the surplus was burned rather than stored.　
That experience made me realize that no matter how much effort I put into using sustainable materials or achieving a zero-waste process, the deeper issue was the mindset of consumerism itself. The problem was not only production, but how society values consumption.
I eventually left the fashion industry, although I still love textiles. In my mid-twenties, feeling somewhat lost, I spent three years traveling alone in search of answers. I lived in a cycle: three months of slow travel followed by three months of freelance work. Toward the end of this journey, I stayed on a tiny island called Kapalutan in Sulawesi, Indonesia. There, we actually lived what could be called a true zero-waste life — catching fish for each meal with a handmade spear, drinking fresh water from the ground, and living without electricity or internet.
One day, while sailing between two islands, a large wave hit our small wooden boat. The boatman calmly told us to be ready to swim back to shore because, in recent years, the waves had grown stronger and these handmade boats were easily overturned. At that moment I understood something very clearly: the everyday lives of people in cities — including my former coworkers, friends, and family — were probably contributing to the disappearance of these ways of living. I decided to return and use art as a way to express this realization. That was my turning point. 

Q:  
What is the theme of the works exhibited at Courtyard HIROO this time? 

A:  
It draws inspiration from German philosopher Karl Marx’s concept of “Alienated Labor.” 
We begin art and creation with passion, but as we get caught up in competition, demand, and the need for self-promotion, we gradually start to feel like “machines producing what humans need.” 
This sense of selling our time to work and becoming alienated from ourselves and our own time—I feel this is a pressing contemporary issue, and many of my friends share the same concern — even those working in the art world. 
For the exhibition space, I wanted to create a place where people could sit down, rest, and engage in conversation—not just quickly glance at the works and move on (scanning). 

Q:  
Please tell us about your future plans. 

A: 
Right now, what I want most is to experience a truly good rest. Yet I am not sure how to do that, since I am currently on a six-month research trip with AiRViNe. I hope during this time I can reconnect with people I met during my solo travels ten years ago and ask them how they have learned to rest over the years.
Also, to deepen my reflection on rest, I want to reread Korean philosopher Han Byung-chul’s book on “Inactivity.” Modern people feel compelled to be “active” even when relaxing, driven by the obsession to post something on Instagram. 
There is a saying:, “If you are walking toward a destination, you are walking. But if you are walking to-no-end, thus your body learn how to dance.” In the same way, I still do not know where my artistic practice will ultimately lead. What I do know is that I want to step away from the modern culture of constant activity — the pressure for efficiency and measurable results — and continue exploring this theme deliberately, without setting a fixed goal.

Q: 最後にメッセージをおねがいします。

A: Have a good rest! 

Interview with Ngyễn Tú Hằng – Co-founder of AiRViNe (Artist-in-Residence Vietnam Network)

Q:  
Please tell us about your activities. 

A: 
Together with Miên, I run AiRViNe (Artist-in-Residence Vietnam Network). Our work focuses on researching artist-in-residence programs both within Vietnam and internationally, promoting Vietnamese artists abroad, and operating our own residency program.  

Q:  
Why did you start this initiative?

A:
In Vietnam, only certain artists—such as those with overseas study experience—have opportunities to go abroad. I want to create a network that connecting talented artists who do not speak foreign language and studied at local universities to the wider world.
My academic background is in international trade, and I have long worked in administrative management and operational roles. Earlier in my career, I worked for a Japanese trading company in Vietnam, and I have since built experience across diverse fields, including the F&B and travel industries. These experiences shaped how I approach cultural work today, particularly in terms of sustainability and organization.
My interest in art began while I was studying in Japan, where art felt much more accessible in everyday life. Whenever I went to Tokyo, I visited the Mori Art Museum in Roppongi, and I often found inspiration through visual imagery there. At the time, I was a workaholic, and I spent most of the money I earned on traveling. Visiting museums during these trips allowed me to slow down, enjoy moments of quiet, and recharge before returning to work.
During the pandemic, while spending more time at home and taking art-related courses, I was offered a position at one of Vietnam’s largest art centers. That experience became a turning point for me. After several years working in the field, I began to feel a strong desire to build networks with stakeholders outside of Vietnam, in order to better support Vietnamese artists and help them expand their practices internationally.

Q:  
How do you collaborate with artist Trần Thảo Miên? 

A: 
We make a very good combination, but our styles are contrasting. With my business background, I always prioritize timelines and deadlines, pushing to move work forward at a very fast pace. In contrast, Mien works at an artist’s pace, valuing inspiration and creativity more. I used to think artists were “unpredictable people,” but working with her has shown me how integrating creativity into business could transform future ways of living, and I’ve learned to maintain that balance. 

Q: 
What is the purpose of your visit to Japan this time? 

A: 
My current research focuses on studying Japan’s artist-in-residence models. In Vietnam—and I believe this is true for many Southeast Asian countries—residency programs face significant challenges. Many struggle to continue beyond five years and often end up being short-lived. In contrast, my research in Japan has revealed a wide range of independent residency models, not only government-led initiatives. Many of these programs were established by artists or private organizations and have been sustained for 20 to 30 years.

Q: 
What specific perspectives are you investigating? 

A:  
I came to Japan to learn the foundations of this sustainability—specifically, how these organizations manage to operate independently over such long periods. Given my background in international trade and management, I approach this research from the perspectives of organizational structure and business models, rather than solely from an artist’s point of view.
While many residency programs in Taiwan rely heavily on government subsidies, in Japan we are interviewing organizers to understand the practical methods they use to secure funding beyond the second year and to build cooperation with a wide range of stakeholders. Visiting these sites has reinforced my belief that art coordinators play a crucial role—not just as facility managers, but as key cultural mediators and connectors.

Q: 
How do you plan to utilize this experience in Japan going forward? 

A: 
I hope to compile the findings from this research into a map-like resource and to build a “network of coordinators.” For example, if someone wanted to initiate a project in Indonesia, there could be a clear contact point—someone who understands the local context and can support the process. This would reduce the burden placed on artists and allow projects to develop more smoothly.
My long-term vision is to bring the knowledge gained in Japan back to Southeast Asia and to gradually build a system that enables Southeast Asian artists to work in Japan, and Japanese artists to engage more actively with Southeast Asia.

Interviewer: Satoko Kubota