art reviews july
2007
PORTLAND
Dinh Q. Lê
at Elizabeth Leach Gallery
In “From Father to Son: A
Rite of Passage,” Dinh Q. Lê quite literally interweaves his
country’s past with its present. The Vietnamese artist, who
was seven years old when the last American helicopter left
Saigon in 1975, addresses the Vietnam War’s difficult legacy
in the six woven photographic tapestries and one digital video
that comprise the most recent of his four one-person shows at
Elizabeth Leach since 1998. Using traditional Vietnamese grass
weaving techniques, Lê interlaces long, thin strips of photo
prints into patchwork quilts of bracing color. Viewed up
close, the works twinkle with abstract crisscrosses that
recall late Mondrian. Viewed from several paces back, imagery
emerges: hammer and sickle, tropical flowers, and a densely
populated street scene in Crowd; American flag-draped coffins
and Vietnamese war propaganda in Energizer; and, in Coca Cola,
a cornucopia of Western foodstuffs—soft drinks, Spam, Oreos,
Cornflakes, and Altoids—intercut with a Vietcong soldier
wielding a shoulder-mounted missile launcher. The vibrant
palette and witty pastiching of incongruous elements lends
levity to subject matter that might otherwise implode under
its own gravitas.
This buoyancy does not characterize
Lê’s digital video, from whose title the show itself takes its
name. The video’s split-screen edit presents scenes from
Oliver Stone’s film Platoon and Francis Ford Coppola’s
Apocalypse Now, the former featuring scenes with actor Charlie
Sheen, the latter with Sheen’s father, Martin. Just as the
photographic tapestries are built around the conceit of
intersplicing, so the video’s leitmotif revolves around the
intercutting of movie clips, such that the two Sheens appear
to dialogue with and comment upon the other. The
meta-conversation between the films yields no lack of
political and familial themes, but the tack wears thin as the
video’s 10 minutes drag on. The viewer’s mind wanders from
deeper musings on patriarchy, imperialism, and war to more
peripheral questions, such as “Which Sheen is the better
actor?” and “Who is the more astute director, Stone or
Coppola?” Ultimately, the video highlights cinematic contrasts
more effectively than it illustrates ideological parallels.
Despite this, the piece and the exhibit as a whole point to
the uneasy relationship between a country’s forward-focused
present and a past that refuses to fade away.
—RICHARD
SPEER