(congregation)
Soft sculptures comprised of traditional Vietnamese garments donated by refugee communities all over the country, specifically Orange County, Bronx, Denver, and Houston. This is an ongoing body of work that celebrates our resilience and brilliance as a Vietnamese-American community.
screenshots from the 12 minute dance narrative film
upon skin, upon stone is a dance narrative film (12 mins) that premiered on September 26th through Washington Project for the Arts for KUVV, a multidisciplinary, collaborative project organized by choreographer and performance artist Hayley Cutler, exploring the relationship between home, familial lineage, and the body.
Selected through an open call this past spring, Emily Ames, Antonius and Theresa-Xuan Bui, Jamie Garcia, Akela Jaffi, Juliana Ponguta, and Vyette Tiya worked independently and in conversation with each other throughout the summer to create intimate responses to Hayley Cutler's prompt: How does your familial lineage live in your physical body today, and how does that contribute to your sense of home as it relates to your identity?
The history of U.S. military intervention in Southeast Asia complicates attempts to center Southeast Asian (SEA) refugees in public commemorative spaces. SEA refugees remind the American nation of a tumultuous and divisive era, a morally questionable and unsuccessful war, and the humiliation of military withdrawal and defeat. Through monuments and other sites of public memory, the U.S. has remembered the American nation and American veterans as the primary victims of the war, while framing SEA bodies and the devastation of their homelands as necessary “collateral damage” in the progress towards freedom and democracy. The millions of Vietnamese, Cambodian, Lao, and Hmong who perished as a result of this failed imperial misadventure remain nameless, indiscernible, while American veterans each have their names carved in stone. When SEA refugee bodies do emerge in mainstream commemorations, they are often portrayed as being assimilated, successful, and grateful for the “gift” of the American Dream. Having been “saved” by American intervention, their bodies on American soil today serve as evidence that the war in Southeast Asia, and perhaps other wars, no matter what the cost, are ultimately justified and necessary.
Responding to various Vietnam Veterans Memorials on the East Coast, Theresa and Antonius will complicate our understanding of the Vietnamese diaspora through intuitive movement and poetry. Oscillating between intense stillness and chaos, they explore the phenomena of reverb as a metaphor for assimilation. Beginning with references to our traditional Vietnamese-Catholic upbringing, our movements will echo into glimpses of an Asian-American futurism.
Solo show at the Hudson D. Walker Gallery in Provincetown, MA.
An excerpt of the Opening Performance available here
(There is nothing compared to the mother and her child)
Selections from my personal archive of film photography
Click here for our virtual dedication in response to COVID-19.
still from the “1/1000th” video for this year’s dedication
This gong is cast out of 3,000 bullet casings, 1/000 of the estimated 3 million individuals who lost their lives during the Vietnam War.
This is a part of the Missing Piece Project which envisions a nationwide, coordinated, mass dedication of objects at the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in DC on April 30th by Vietnamese, Lao, Hmong, Cambodian and other communities still affected by the conflict in SouthEast Asia.
Due to COVID-19 this year the dedication is virtual. Please click to experience this year’s piece.
"This collective intervention is a way for our voices, as a refugee community, and all of us who were effected by the war, to remember our past and reclaim our histories. To tell our own narratives....Because even though the Vietnam Veterans Memorial is made out of a reflective surface, it does not reflect the voices of the Vietnamese community" -Antonuis Bui
www.missingpiecesproject.org
Artwork Cast by Stephanie Mercedes, commissioned by Antonius Bui, translations by Kim Tran, poetry by Keva Bui, Story by: Trần Văn Tâm
“A paper coffin, like a grave made of something flimsy as words. Easily hidden, buried, burned.” -Sun Yung Shin
Paper pulp cast mattress infused with used condoms, anal blood, lube, semen, and hair from past sexual encounters
*special thanks to Jenn Woodward, Co-founder of Pulp & Deckle in Portland, for the wisdom and support
An interactive paper-pulp drawing-installation outside of Disjecta in Portland, OR. The public was invited to respond to the existing architecture of the courtyard with paper pulp made from donated, recycled stationary.
*Special thanks to Disjecta and Pulp & Deckle for allowing me to dream of this multi-day activity!
2020 commission for State Voices inspired by the following prompt: What does BIPOC political power mean to you?
Please feel free to print out these illustrations, and fill in the blank protest signs with your own call to action! Add some color if your heart desires as well.
I’d love to see the final outcome if you’re open to sharing. Tag me @buimonster on instagram and/or email the final image to abui@mica.edu
*Thank you Jordan DeLoach for approaching me with this incredible opportunity.
A series of cyanotypes developed on and in the Cape Cod National Seashore using materials specific to the Vietnamese-American refugee experience.
I decided to exhibit the 2019-2020 Fine Art Work Center (FAWC) Cohort’s Stipend Increase Letter at our Provincetown Art Association and Museum (PAAM) group show in order to emphasize the urgency of our request. Making the letter public was also an opportunity for visitors and the local community members to further invest in our relationship and well-being.
Many obstacles, including institutional pressure and censorship, almost prevented me from exhibiting this piece. Even though all of our requests have not been met, this collective effort eventually led to a stipend increase of $250 for our cohort, and hopefully more for every FAWC cohort moving forward.
*installation shots by James R. Zimmerman, Provincetown Art Association and Museum