INTERVIEW - ARTIST PRUNE PHI

Available in French on Asian Contemporary Art (ACA Project) here.

It was in April 2023 that I was introduced to Prune Phi‘s work through ACA project. I was immediately drawn to her practice, both for its use of cultural references that are familiar to me and its ability to blend tradition, heritage and mysticism with a resolutely contemporary approach.  Around that time I also met Quinnie Tan, director of 15 Beautreillis gallery, with whom I shared an interest in experimental practices. When Quinnie recontacted me in 2024 to collaborate as a curator, Prune Phi’s work immediately came to mind, particularly her performance ‘Otherworld Communication’:

Otherworld Communication is a fictitious telecommunication company specialised in contacting the deceased, created by the French-Vietnamese artist Prune Phi. It is operated through installations and performances and activated by the artist in the form of private consultations. The public is invited to make an appointment for a personalised meeting with Phi, where she encourages the participant to write a personal message to a deceased loved one, which is then printed on a smartphone made of paper. She draws on a tradition inherited from her grandfather, that of burning joss paper for the dead: these papers symbolise funeral notes that are meant to be burnt in order to be sent to the afterlife, to one’s ancestors. Having evolved with time, this practice now includes minute replicas of various quotidian objects ranging from clothes to smartphones. We are therefore witnessing the introduction of new technologies in this ancestral cult, leading the artist to explore the role this encounter can play in shaping our cultural knowledge.

To mark her upcoming solo exhibition ‘Otherworld Communication’ at 15 Beautreillis, I speak with Prune Phi about her practice and the influences that fuel it, her relationship with materiality, and the underlying fragmentation that permeates her work. This exhibition will run from 9 October to 15 November, 2025, and the performance will be presented for the first time alongside a series of metal sculptures by the artist. 

INTERVIEW

[2]Prune Phi-SMITH-Contemporaine de Nîmes 2024-Photo © JC Lett-12

Amandine Vabre Chau: Could you tell us more about the idea behind your performance ‘Otherworld Communication’? How did it come about? 

Prune Phi: I travelled to Vietnam for the first time in 2019, searching for what still connects me to my grandfather’s country. I wanted to reconnect with my heritage, in a quest for familiarity. In Ho Chi Minh City, I came across shops selling offerings that were nothing like those in Asian supermarkets in France or the United States: hanging from the ceiling, carefully packaged on the stalls, were luxury bags, fast fashion items and paper mobile phones.

I also found the traditional ‘Joss’ or ‘Hell Money’ banknotes, but these new objects disrupted the ritual I had learned from my grandfather, Binh, when I was a child. Intended to be burned to reach ancestors, these replicas blurred my memories, shifting them towards a capitalist and futuristic dimension.

What struck me was the difference in the forms of offerings in Vietnam compared to those found in diasporas, which retained their traditional designs, unchanged, as if frozen in time. In Vietnam, these items are always changing without too much concern for the past. Tech offerings add another layer of meaning: if you believe these objects truly come back to life once they’re burned, then phones, tablets, and computers should start working again and open a two-way communication channel. We can then dream of a response sent by the departed. But if nothing comes, does that mean that this ritual is only for the dead, not for us? And if an elderly person receives a phone there, will they even know how to use it? Who will teach them? Young people who have already died? The questions became outlandish but they stayed with me.

Then my grandmother suddenly passed away. She was very connected to Vietnamese culture and had transmitted so much to me. The link was abruptly broken and in a way, I refused to let it go. The performance came about gradually, as a way of trying to maintain this communication for myself but also for others.

Amandine: Do you think you could transform this performance’s framework? Bring it into another temporality, or outside of artistic spaces?                                          

Prune: I don’t think the idea of the performance will evolve, but I would like to make it more accessible. Until now, it has been presented in art centres, and I think it would be worthwhile to demystify it, to open it up to other types of venues. I would like to imagine some sort of “stations” where the public could really take ownership of the experience. 

This could involve training people to pass it on, or setting up a dedicated space, a venue rented specifically to host it. We could also consider a travelling format: one month in one part of the world, then another month elsewhere, a circulating intervention.

The idea would be for this performance to live autonomously, to take root in other spaces, in other forms. A website is also in the making so that people can make their own ‘mobile phone offerings’ at home.

Amandine: To understand a little more the background of this project, I would like to know your story, as your inspiration often comes from your own experiences. 

Prune: I grew up in Carcassonne, a town in the south of France. My whole family lives there. I spent a lot of time at my grandparents’ house until I left for university. My Vietnamese grandfather ran a Vietnamese restaurant called ‘La Rizière’ (The Rice Field). I remember making spring rolls, licking the sugar off welcome cocktail glasses, and putting my arms in bags of rice. My grandfather Binh was quite quiet, but he liked to tell ghost stories and amusing tales. He had an altar for his parents on a dresser. Fruit, a little alcohol and incense surrounded a few portraits. He burned banknotes ‘so that Grandpa and Grandma would be rich in the other world’. He taught me to burn them in bundles so that it would ‘work faster and they could buy whatever they wanted with them’. When he passed away, we did the same thing so that he too could become rich up there. Then we did the same for all the family members who have left us since.