Ann Lê


Ann Lê (she/her) is a Los Angeles based artist and Senior Lecturer of Photography and Fine Arts at Loyola Marymount University. She’s exhibited works at Fort Worth Contemporary Arts, Wende Museum, USC Pacific Asia Museum, and USC Roski School of Art and design. Her works explores identity, family history, the diaspora, and the space in between becoming Vietnamese-American.

Work Description

Sinh Vât (Creature, double heads), Me (find shortcut for e) (Mom), Can Tho, Vietnam 1970 / San Diego, CA, 2023 
3D printed sculpture
15 x 10 x 8 in.
Courtesy of the artist

Sinh Vât (Creature, double heads): Ba (Dad), Can Tho,  Vietnam 1970 / San Diego, CA, 2023 
3D printed sculpture
15 x 10 x 8 in.
Courtesy of the artist

Sinh Vât (Creature, double heads): Self Portrait, San Diego, CA 1986 / Los Angeles, CA ,2023 
3D printed sculpture
15 x 10 x 8 in. 
Courtesy of the artist

What we lost in the Ocean (Weighted with Ghosts), 2022 
2-minute video, loop
Courtesy of the artist

Applying new technologies and non-traditional materials to critique art history in this new series of 3D-printed heads, using past and present portraits, the works represent characteristics and physiognomy of Le’s parents. Digital techniques and materials are deconstructed and reconstructed in the fabrication to create a false reality that comments on fable, myth and splendor. 

Le’s portrait bust trio Sinh Vật (Creature, double heads) draws from classical busts made in antiquity to the early 20th century. Crafted from marble or plaster, these sculptures often commemorated the dead and were owned by nobility. The bust trio are 3D printed sculptures rendered from photographs to recreate that artist’s parents along with her own image. Each bust features two heads emerging from a shared base depicting the person in different life stages. On the left, the younger head looks to the past while on the right a present version gazes into the future.The busts are reminiscent of the double-headed statues of the Roman god Janus. With the ability to look in both directions, he is associated with transitions, especially the passage of time between peace and war.5

Le’s father is an avid photographer with a vast collection of images from his former Việt Nam studio and family snapshots captured in 35mm film. The younger heads were based off of his photographs whereas the current heads sculpted from Le’s references. The digital reconstruction of portraits from two- dimensional images into a computer model and the final fabrication is an extension of the trademark glitches that interrupt Le’s photo collages. When information is transferred across disparate mediums, things will be inevitably lost in translation. Unlike the even surface and translucent softness of their marble counterparts, imperfections are an inherent part of the bust trio. 3D printing with filament involves depositing layers of material together. Different variables in the code, calibrations, or even the environment can affect the finished product.

Sinh Vật (Creature, double heads) takes on the digested canon of Western art and positions the ordinary as worthwhile. Le’s family do not see their personal history as a source of art. She says of her mother, “[She] would see the work and she wouldn’t understand…I would explain [that] I’m making something and I’m talking about a specific narrative – and she goes, ‘But why would you want to talk about that? So sad, why would anyone want to listen to this?’ Then I go, ‘Mom, you know we’re in a different generation and…we have the luxury to be curious.”

Vernacular of Silence (after Ocean Vuong): i think i was drowning, 2023 
Archival print
40  x 50 in.
Courtesy of the artist

Extracted passages from Ocean Vuong’s 2019 novel “On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous,” an ode to loss and struggle, to being a Vietnamese American growing up in the States. Vernacular of Silence mirrors prose, poetry, and my Vietnamese family snapshots capturing everyday life and subjects documenting overlooked aspects of social or photo history. Silence in language, and iterated narratives; The text serves as a portal that bridges a sense of searching.

Ann Le digitally manipulates photographs to question the authenticity of photography as a medium. “My background is in conceptual photography. At the root of photography are lies – it’s what’s real or fake, what’s fiction or nonfiction. In most of the photos we look at, we understand that this existed at one time.”3 The photos are appropriated, either found from her family’s collection, journalism archives, or public domain resources. As Le translates reality through digital means, it becomes abstracted into something that is at once foreign and familiar. Photos are no longer depictions of specific moments. Le’s work serves as a reference for conflicting narratives about the past while simultaneously providing a way to envision potential futures.

What we lost in the Ocean (Weighted with Ghosts), 2022 
2-minute video, loop
Courtesy of the artist

How can we share stories from artists of color in a way that challenges and disrupts the traditional narrative? More than ever, our stories as people of color are being presented through mainstream channels of media, but largely only consumed by people of color. During this moment in particular, artists of color are our cultural protectors and messengers, yet how can we ensure that our messages are securing the impressions needed to make a tangible impact?

Memory is slippery, reconstructed, and deconstructed narratives. A portrait of my parents taken in my dad’s photo studio before the Fall of Saigon paired with a candid of my mom and older sister (age 3 at the time) on BiDong Island, a refugee camp in Malaysia. Glitches overlapped with static images create a seamless transition to the clouds, sky, ocean, stars, and sky. These moments create a language which narrates my parents’ journey through the Ocean’s abyss.

“Hope all is well, and that you are learning English fast” – A portrait of my dad is paired with a postcard from Susie (my parents host family in Canada). A cropped family candid of my sister is paired with my dad’s Vancouver visa to America. The red and blue striped envelope which indicates international mail from Vietnam to San Diego is paired with a portrait of my young mom. This video is a representation of travel, access, and documentation; a lost digital translation of archived family images. The remnants become a digital time machine.