Nine Streams, 2018
Nine Streams was a spoken word and video projection performance done in collaboration with John Benson. The title of the piece, Nine Streams, refers to the nine streams that lead to the underworld in traditional Vietnamese mythology. Prior to 2013, I studied, lived and worked in Vietnam for 15 years. In 2013, I moved back to California. The piece includes several stories depicting experiences I had on returning to Vietnam after being absent for four years. Having developed close relationships with one family in particular, the death of the patriarch of the family, whose name was Kha Van Hieu, in 2016 before I returned to Vietnam, was difficult to grasp. However, upon returning to visit, I was invited to speak with his spirit at the family altar. Nine Streams was an attempt to integrate my past and present experience of Vietnam, to honor Kha Van Hieu, and to better understand the experience of attempting to communicate with the dead as is practiced in Vietnam.
Images from Vietnam, including video and sound clips of Kha Van Hieu playing the flute, were projected on to a set that included a backdrop, a tea service, a traditional frame for a portrait of the dead, and a pond, to symbolize connection with the nine streams. As the imagery and sounds unfolded, I told stories of my experiences in Vietnam both past and present.
There was a river
running underneath a giant crumbling old bridge
the river's current was the color of cà phê nâu
we stepped down to the water's edge
there was thunder on the bridge above us as trains and motorbikes passed overhead
the water was silent and swollen and persistent
we slipped off our shoes
far out, we watched a man with a plastic jug tied to his wrist
swim by
and a ship with its heavy cargo of rust
on the shoreline we walked through garbage
broken odds and ends
as we stepped into the water
we couldn’t see the bottom
our toes moved carefully
in the warm coffee colored foam
searching for the soft mud
but there were many obstacles to step through
sharp and rough
it felt dangerous and exciting
stepping into the water
not knowing what lay beneath
or how strong the current might be
and then halfway in
something happened.
From above us, on the bridge
something began to fall
it was square shaped, and flat, and it landed in the water nearby
someone had thrown it over the railing
it drifted towards us
and we could see
it was an altar
from someone's home
an altar for the ancestors
that someone had decided
to get rid of
perhaps they were moving house
or maybe they had bought a new altar
it was the full moon in July
and people do things like that on the full moon in July
in Vietnam.
This altar drifted towards us
in pieces
it was obviously old
and suddenly
we noticed something else
what we thought was garbage
on the shoreline all around us
the broken bits and pieces under our feet
were all fragments of altars
that had been dropped there
over time
there were broken bowls of incense
and picture frames
and statues
and platforms to put the statues on
they were all over the place
we were standing on broken altars
the entire shoreline
was built up
from thousands of remnants
of altars
that once upon a time
had been used
to communicate
with the dead