On the Perception of Food and Animals: Michelle Nguyen
Montreal-based artist Michelle Nguyen offers two new paintings, both characteristically rich in symbolism and detail. Here the artist provides enlightening and thought-provoking descriptions for each piece.
Michelle Nguyen, Pulp (Fragmented). Oil on canvas, 12 x 12 inches
Pulp (Fragmented) and Séance (Dinner Theatre) were created after my family trip to Vietnam. It was my first time there and my parents’ first time back since they left in the 1980s due to the Vietnam War.
Pulp (Fragmented)’s imagery is taken from a photo I took on the first day at a market. I love insects, and would like more people to be able to appreciate how necessary they are to the health of our environment. Fish is a consistent theme in my work. This fish obsession was sparked by a photo series called Metamorphosis (2006) by Yoon Jinyoung, a South Korean photographer. It consists of thirteen high contrast photos of fish heads, guts, and other ‘unwanted’ cuts. For me, it’s a symbol of perseverance and resourcefulness: even the most unwanted cuts of meat can be transformed into something delicious and nourishing. It’s about making the most of what you have.
Insects have also been playing a larger role in the subject of my work. When we think of intelligence, rarely do we think of insects, but the social networks and ability to organize so effectively makes them more than worthy of being deemed as such. I chose the lunar moth initially because I liked the contrast of the green with the pink, but it’s worth noting that these particular moths do not have a mouth or a digestive system. They only live for a week once they emerge from their cocoons, and their only objective is to mate. I imagine the moths in the painting trying desperately to eat, to no avail. The insects, in contrast with the fish, are a reminder that where there is death, there is also life.
Pulp (Fragmented) and Séance (Dinner Theatre) were created after my family trip to Vietnam. It was my first time there and my parents’ first time back since they left in the 1980s due to the Vietnam War.
Pulp (Fragmented)’s imagery is taken from a photo I took on the first day at a market. I love insects, and would like more people to be able to appreciate how necessary they are to the health of our environment. Fish is a consistent theme in my work. This fish obsession was sparked by a photo series called Metamorphosis (2006) by Yoon Jinyoung, a South Korean photographer. It consists of thirteen high contrast photos of fish heads, guts, and other ‘unwanted’ cuts. For me, it’s a symbol of perseverance and resourcefulness: even the most unwanted cuts of meat can be transformed into something delicious and nourishing. It’s about making the most of what you have.
Insects have also been playing a larger role in the subject of my work. When we think of intelligence, rarely do we think of insects, but the social networks and ability to organize so effectively makes them more than worthy of being deemed as such. I chose the lunar moth initially because I liked the contrast of the green with the pink, but it’s worth noting that these particular moths do not have a mouth or a digestive system. They only live for a week once they emerge from their cocoons, and their only objective is to mate. I imagine the moths in the painting trying desperately to eat, to no avail. The insects, in contrast with the fish, are a reminder that where there is death, there is also life.
Michelle Nguyen, Séance (Dinner Theatre). Oil on canvas, 24 x 18 inches
I consider Séance (Dinner Theatre) a classic take on a memento mori painting, inspired by Vietnamese altars. The centrepiece is a boiled rooster, which is a dish I saw a lot of on Lunar New Year displays in Huế. I have been interested in the chicken since coming to learn that humans had originally domesticated them for cockfighting, not meat or eggs. The boiled egg with the salmon roe is there to contrast with the chicken. I was eating a lot of persimmons in Canada before my trip as they were in season, while green oranges were some of the fruits I ate a lot of while I was in Vietnam. I have never seen green ripe oranges before until then. I guess I like the contrasts of what’s in season in these two different continents, and I also like the similarities in colour. Salamanders were also a common sight during my stay in Vietnam - they are everywhere.
Jars of ginseng and snake wine are two memorable and consistently present objects I saw while I was there. They were also prominently featured at the Traditional Medicine Museum I visited. Turkey tail mushroom and tea were also two ingredients that stuck with me from said museum. The clove branch and nutmeg are there because of the history of the bloody wars that were fought over spices in the 15th and 16th centuries. Candles are a common sight in both memento mori paintings and Vietnamese altars. The ghostly hand holds a morning glory flower with a spider in it. I didn’t have a particular reason for choosing this flower; it was just part of a reference image I wanted to incorporate, but a quick Google search tells me that morning glory has both medicinal and culinary uses.
I recently finished reading Pests: How Humans Create Animal Villains by Bethany Brookshire and have been thinking a lot about the subjectivity of whether or not human beings consider an animal a friend or foe, and how those labels have changed over the course of time. For example, at the very beginning of human agricultural production, having rats was seen as an indication of wealth and prosperity because one only had rats if they had food. As for now, we associate them with poverty and filth.
I love cats, but they are technically an invasive species. Outdoor cats are also responsible for killing approximately 100 million birds a year in Canada alone. Brookshire ends the book by condemning even the use of the word ‘pest,’ for all of these animals are just creatures out of place - creatures who have the gall to occupy a space which we consider ours, when in reality we do not have more legitimate claim over this world than any other creature.
- Michelle Nguyen, 2024
I consider Séance (Dinner Theatre) a classic take on a memento mori painting, inspired by Vietnamese altars. The centrepiece is a boiled rooster, which is a dish I saw a lot of on Lunar New Year displays in Huế. I have been interested in the chicken since coming to learn that humans had originally domesticated them for cockfighting, not meat or eggs. The boiled egg with the salmon roe is there to contrast with the chicken. I was eating a lot of persimmons in Canada before my trip as they were in season, while green oranges were some of the fruits I ate a lot of while I was in Vietnam. I have never seen green ripe oranges before until then. I guess I like the contrasts of what’s in season in these two different continents, and I also like the similarities in colour. Salamanders were also a common sight during my stay in Vietnam - they are everywhere.
Jars of ginseng and snake wine are two memorable and consistently present objects I saw while I was there. They were also prominently featured at the Traditional Medicine Museum I visited. Turkey tail mushroom and tea were also two ingredients that stuck with me from said museum. The clove branch and nutmeg are there because of the history of the bloody wars that were fought over spices in the 15th and 16th centuries. Candles are a common sight in both memento mori paintings and Vietnamese altars. The ghostly hand holds a morning glory flower with a spider in it. I didn’t have a particular reason for choosing this flower; it was just part of a reference image I wanted to incorporate, but a quick Google search tells me that morning glory has both medicinal and culinary uses.
I recently finished reading Pests: How Humans Create Animal Villains by Bethany Brookshire and have been thinking a lot about the subjectivity of whether or not human beings consider an animal a friend or foe, and how those labels have changed over the course of time. For example, at the very beginning of human agricultural production, having rats was seen as an indication of wealth and prosperity because one only had rats if they had food. As for now, we associate them with poverty and filth.
I love cats, but they are technically an invasive species. Outdoor cats are also responsible for killing approximately 100 million birds a year in Canada alone. Brookshire ends the book by condemning even the use of the word ‘pest,’ for all of these animals are just creatures out of place - creatures who have the gall to occupy a space which we consider ours, when in reality we do not have more legitimate claim over this world than any other creature.
- Michelle Nguyen, 2024