Vietnamese-Danish lens-based artist Minh Ngọc Nguyễn first came to my attention when I was sent a copy of their book Sour Sun, published by Heavy Books. I was instantly drawn to the glossy, ad-like images. Since then, Nguyễn has exhibited widely, with exhibitions at Oslo’s Melk and Stockholm’s Andréhn-Schiptjenko, and is currently featured in a group exhibition at Kiasma in Helsinki, with an upcoming solo in Tokyo later this year.
“Having the works exist as physical manifestations is the only way for me right now. So now I’m incredibly invested in the physical realm, where my works can exist as a structural extension of the images themselves,” Nguyễn, who has a background in commercial photography, tells me.
K.Z: I recently visited Kiasma where you currently have some great works on display. They were my personal favorites, and also why I wanted to get in touch. That image of the kid taking a bite of a giant red gummy bear is wild!
M.N.N: Thank you so much! I’m glad to hear they caught your eye. I feel great about the selection they acquired. It’s a fun and strong vertical slice of my practice.
K.Z: What is it that draws you to still life photography in particular?
M.N.N: Coming from a commercial school of thought, I spent a lot of time learning the mechanics of how commercial media constructs desire, value, and meaning through imagery.
What draws me to still life is the ability to hijack those high-end studio techniques and use that specific vernacular as a Trojan horse. In many ways, the categorization of still life in tandem with photography is something that I think is very symbiotic. They are both constructions and are good at isolating scenes and objects.
M.N.N: Growing up in Denmark while carrying a Vietnamese heritage inherently shapes the way you view iconography. You constantly have one foot inside and one foot outside of both cultures, which forces you to become a hyper-observer of visual codes. Navigating that as a bicultural person meant that I was always translating objects, motifs, and symbols, seeing how they shifted meaning depending on who was looking at them. In a way, my childhood in Denmark taught me how to read the world as a series of signs, which is in many ways how I approach photography now.
I feel very lucky not to have grown up in an entirely homogeneous environment, which in many cases Denmark is. I was fortunate to grow up alongside a lot of other people of color, so the idea of staying true to and being outwardly proud of your parents’ culture wasn’t uncommon. Even today, I am so grateful to have people in my life who are on, or have been on, a similar journey.
K.Z: I would like to say that I very much regret dropping the ball on working with you back in 2023. You later booked a solo exhibition at the same space, which was obviously a better opportunity. It felt like a blessing in disguise at the time. You’ve exhibited a ton since and are currently represented by Nevven in Gothenburg. How do you find the practice of exhibiting and exhibition-making?
M.N.N: No hard feelings at all! Honestly, the pacing of all the shows has been quite wild. In this case, I think I really built up an insane resilience when it comes to deadlines, production, etc., from my former background working as a photographer in the commercial industry. I was conditioned to only look at and perceive images through a digital screen. Having the works exist as physical manifestations is the only way for me right now. So now I’m incredibly invested in the physical realm, where my works can exist as a structural extension of the images themselves.
K.Z: In the spring, you were the artist-in-residence at Art Hub Copenhagen. What did you work on during your time there?
M.N.N: When my time wasn’t being reduced to boring administrative stuff on the laptop (most of the time), I spent it meeting sweet and talented peers while experimenting with other ways in which I could extend the print. It gave me the appropriate time to breathe and sketch out new works. And to recalibrate!
K.Z: Lastly, how do you see your practice evolving from here?
I’ve spent a lot of time trying to refine my own vocabulary and build up my own visual language. I’m ready to let it rip and go wild. And while I think some of my work can point or allude to very specific things, I would like to try to focus on being less ambiguous and more explicit. I’m hoping my upcoming exhibition at Commune in Tokyo will lead me to that mentality.
Koshik Zaman is a freelance writer and independent curator based in Stockholm, Sweden. He has been a contributor editor to Daily Lazy since 2026.
All images courtesy of the artist. For more info, please visit: minnnh.com