Culture Vulture

Performance artist Vu Duc Toan is the only Vietnamese representative to join artists from 10 countries to display their works at the 17th Nippon International Performance Art Festival (NIPAF). The 28-year-old spoke with Culture Vulture about the festival and the artistic ideas he presented during the event.

What was the agenda of this year's NIPAF?

I was among 10 guest artists, who come from Bangladesh, India, Mexico, Romania, Slovakia, South Korea, Switzerland, and Viet Nam. We joined another group of 10 Japanese artists to travel to Tokyo, Osaka and Nagano to perform. In addition, in every city we travelled to, there were some more local artists who joined our performances.

Almost all of us presented our repertoire/act in small theatres or studios, which had capacities of some 50-60 people. However, the stage was not the only place where artists performed, that's why I some times performed in the corridor outside the main venue, while another artist performed among the audience. We even performed in an isolated house on top of a mountain. There wasn't any modern equipment, internet or mobile phone coverage. We were only surrounded by nature.

Did the limitation on performing venues hinder any of your performances?

The limitations had some effect, while differences in the environment, or perhaps my slow response to a situation also had an impact. I brought some electrical equipment from Viet Nam, but I discovered that the equipment was not suitable with the 110V power capacity network in Japan. Another example was when we performed in a house up in the mountains. Although each artist had a very short time to prepare for their performance, I changed my act three times. My first ideas required the support of modern technology such as a mobile phone, but there wasn't any mobile phone coverage in the area.

Can you tell us more about your performances in the festival?

I presented a series of performances on the theme of water. The series was named Appendix of an Epic on Water, and I numbered every performance. I presented performance No 2 in Tokyo with a live carp. I wore a wetsuit, hiding the carp behind my back and walked onto the stage. I slowly and respectfully placed the fish on a small dais, and used a handsaw to cut the fish. I wanted all my movements to portray respect, like I was conducting a ceremony. Using a monotonous tempo, I cut the fish's head with concentration, but without any emotion.

The venue was extremely quiet and you could even hear the sound created when the saw touched the backbone of the fish. However, the saw suddenly broke, with a loud "pangggggg", and despite that the audience remained silent.

Was the broken saw an accident or your idea?

It was an accident. Actually, I wanted the audiences to maintain their silence in a strained atmosphere until the fish's head had been cut off.

How did you feel the saw broke?

The incident brought a range of different emotions. I quietly put the saw down, lifted the fish and placed it into a handkerchief, wrapped carefully, put it back on the dais, then slowly moved back into the wings.

How did the audiences react to your performance?

They remained silent until I disappeared behind the wings, and then broke out into thunderous applause. They applauded like they were getting rid of something. Maybe they were swallowed up in the silence and a different level of emotion. I've received feedback from audiences such as "I felt creeped-out when I saw you perform", "Is your performance about repentance and the regret? Is that right?"

The audience response proves my performance had some success as it provided them with inspiration to use their imagination as well as engaging their emotions.

What impressed you most about the festival?

It was the hard-working attitude of the artists, including some amateur artists, who make a living doing normal jobs, such as being waiter or leaflet distributor. I really admired them when I found out they have didn't have any artistic professional qualifications and had to work hard to save up to join NIPAF. — VNS

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Grilling mudfish on the street

Coal ovens blaze day and night grilling mudfish in shops on Tan Ky Tan Quy and Truong Chinh streets in Ho Chi Minh City.

The shops jostle for attention with signs as red as the coal in the ovens as the alluring smell of grilled fish wafts in the air.

But unlike most other street establishments, these shops in Tan Phu District only do takeouts. In that sense they aren’t so much “shops” as a grilled-mudfish market that offers locals a great alternative dish.

The shops grill the fish in almost the same simple way as it is done in the countryside, the only difference being they use coal ovens instead of a burning heap of straw.

The ovens are large enough to grill seven or eight fish weighing almost a kilogram each.

The outer skin is burnt until pitch black and removed by hand or with a stick to reveal another golden–brown layer of skin underneath.

The fish are then put back on the oven over low heat, sprinkled with shallot grease, and left there to marinate.

Street shops preferred

Restaurants too serve grilled mudfish, which is in fact an expensive dish. But street shops attract customers because of their friendly and quick service.

Accompanied by the same side dishes and dips like unripe bananas, sour carambola, vermicelli, rice paper, fresh vegetables, and fish sauce, the fish sold on the streets is in no way inferior to what is served in the restaurants.

Despite the use of a simple grilling technique, making mudfish is demanding work. For instance, to burn the outer skin completely, the cooks have to carefully turn the fish whiles also ensuring they are done in exactly five-minute intervals.

Removing the burnt skin is also hard work, especially since it is done at the same time as sprinkling the shallot grease and packing them for customers.

The fish are made using sugarcane instead of iron grates. As a result the sweet juice is absorbed by the meat. Shop owners sometimes put a crushed citronella stem in the fish’s stomach to neutralize its smell.

After grilling, the fish are taken off the sugarcane, placed in silver foil, sprinkled with shallot grease and crushed peanuts, and packed in a paper bag.

Some shops do not use sugarcane and stick to iron, which is more convenient since on busy days the fish can be half-grilled in advance and re-grilled when there is an order. But whatever grill is used, ensuring the fish are properly done is not an easy task.

Try this excellent dish and you will discover that however mudfish is grilled, it is a quintessential dish of the southern waterways.

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