THE RETURN OF DANG KIM NGAN

Just like the Little Prince on planet B612, where he could indulge in watching the sunset a total of forty-four times, Ngân also has her own planet, where she can gaze at Hanoi endlessly, not just forty-four times like the Little Prince, but countless times.

But Ngân surpasses the Little Prince in one aspect: she created this planet herself. A planet named Hanoi Memory. This memory took shape the moment Ngân left her hometown. Decades have passed. The memory does not stay still. It moves, it breathes, it grows, it multiplies. It permeates and envelops everything, like tall trees with roots growing deeper into the earth each day, while the canopy above reaches ever higher.

Ngân’s Hanoi is also the Hanoi of her generation, of those who have either left or are still connected to this city. A peculiar metropolis—arrogant yet gentle, solemn yet radiant, classic yet modern. All of this unfolds slowly, lazily, through each delicate pencil stroke. Ngân, from the present, looks back at the city of her childhood, much like a child gazing up at clouds drifting across the sky, or like a mischievous kid peering at objects through a magnifying glass, seeing everything clearer, larger, and purer.

Ngân’s old Hanoi has not disappeared. It remains, fragile but loyal, like the vines embracing crumbling plaster walls, like the rustling of leaves on the steps at the end of autumn, like the sunlit corridors of old apartment complexes. Through drawing, Ngân keeps Hanoi for herself and for anyone who loves this city. For those who may still hesitate, this is how Ngân reveals and guides them to the charming corners hidden by the noisy hustle the city has to "wear."

Ngân’s memories of Hanoi rise. They rise but do not dissipate; instead, they gather into clouds, and who knows? Perhaps one day, children will look up and smile at these clouds.

I don’t know why Ngân chose pencil as her medium. I didn’t feel the need to ask either. Just by looking at her works, one can see the natural, organic connection between Ngân and the medium. She masters the pencil. The pencil fulfills her desires—simple, coherent, controlling emotions—and most importantly, it creates the misty, dreamy effect that reflects how someone gazes into the past.

The success of a creator does not lie in breaking gender or geographic boundaries but in the way they create personal imprints. Ngân’s success here is that she lets people see her strong femininity, and of course, the "Hanoi-ness"—something that, without a deep-rooted love for the city, would be nearly impossible to express.

In the end, Ngân has found a way to return. To return to her Hanoi, in the most endearing and complete way possible.

Dear art lovers, I invite you to the exhibition "Clouds of Memory" by artist Đặng Kim Ngân (Đăng Ngân), from September 22, 2024, to October 13, 2024, at Hanoi Studio Gallery, 23-25 Mạc Đĩnh Chi, Ba Đình, Hanoi.

Writer and Journalist,

Quý Phạm