Latest news with #Vietnamese-born
New York Post
13 hours ago
- General
- New York Post
Female pilot killed in Indiana plane crash was attempting solo trip around the world
A pilot trying to become the first Vietnamese woman to fly solo around the world was killed when her small plane crashed in Indiana. Anh-Thu Nguyen, a Vietnamese-born flight instructor, had just taken off from the Indy South Greenwood Airport bound for Pennsylvania on the second leg of her global flight when her 2005 Lancair IV-P spiraled out of the sky and crashed behind a gas station in Greenwood, according to the Indianapolis Star. The 44-year-old was the sole occupant and was pronounced dead at the scene. Nobody on the ground was injured, the Daily Journal reported. 6 Anh-Thu Nguyen, a Vietnamese-born flight instructor, had just taken off from the Indy South Greenwood Airport bound for Pennsylvania. Facebook / Anh-Thu Nguyen 6 Her 2005 Lancair IV-P spiraled out of the sky and crashed behind a gas station in Greenwood. Kelly Wilkinson/IndyStar / USA TODAY NETWORK via Imagn Images Nguyen was just three days into the journey, which she hoped would inspire future generations of Asian women to become pilots, she said in a Facebook video posted just minutes before her plane went down. 'I just completed the first leg of my solo flight around the world,' she said in the clip. 'This is more than just a flight. It's a mission to inspire the next generation of Asian female pilots and aerospace engineers and STEM professionals.' 'Let's keep flying forward together. … Thank you,' Nguyen told her followers. Nguyen's circumnavigation attempt officially began on July 27 in Oshkosh, Wisconsin. She flew from there to Indiana and was due to land in Pennsylvania before the plane crashed just before 11 a.m. Witness Frank Williams told The Star the aircraft was eerily silent as it fell toward the ground. 'There was no explosion, and there was no fire. I pulled right up, and I could smell fuel. As I got close to the plane, I could tell there wasn't a survivor,' Williams said. 6 The 44-year-old was the sole occupant and was pronounced dead at the scene. Facebook / Anh-Thu Nguyen 6 Nguyen was just three days into the journey, which she hoped would inspire future generations of Asian women to become pilots, she said in a Facebook video posted just minutes before her plane went down. Kelly Wilkinson/IndyStar / USA TODAY NETWORK via Imagn Images The pilot was born in Vietnam and moved to the US when she was 12, according to the paper. Nguyen studied at Purdue University, where she earned a bachelor's degree in math and a master's in aeronautics and astronautics. She later received a doctoral degree in aeronautics and astronautics engineering from Georgia Tech. She was most recently working as the chief flight instructor at Dragon Flight Training Academy. 6 Witness Frank Williams told The Star the aircraft was eerily silent as it fell toward the ground. Facebook / Anh-Thu Nguyen 6 She was most recently working as the chief flight instructor at Dragon Flight Training Academy. Facebook / Anh-Thu Nguyen In 2018, she launched the Asian Women in Aerospace and Aviation Inc., a nonprofit focused on empowering female Asian pilots. 'We are heartbroken by the sudden loss of our dear friend, founder, mentor, and leader, Anh-Thu Nguyen, who passed away in a tragic accident during her solo journey around the world,' the organization posted in a touching tribute. 'Anh-Thu was an inspiring pilot, instructor, and advocate for girls and women in aerospace, engineering, and aviation. She lived with boldness, curiosity, and drive. She came from humble beginnings in Vietnam to becoming a beacon of hope to many.'
Hindustan Times
11-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Hindustan Times
Singapore Art Week: Wild and wonderful
Large art events are often overwhelming. There's so much to soak in that it is difficult to articulate which works were particularly interesting. This was true too of Art SG, a part of the Singapore Art Week, an annual, 10-day arts festival organised by the National Arts Council (NAC) and supported by the Singapore Tourism Board (STB). In this, its 13th edition, held from January 16 to 26, it featured 130 events across various venues. The participating galleries included Gagosian, Switzerland, White Cube, London, Thaddaeus Ropac, Austria, Yeo Workshop, Singapore, and galleries such as DAG, Anant Art and Gallerie Nvya from India. Singaporean artist Jahan Loh's Postcards from Space (Riddhi Doshi) Part of Vietnamese-born artist Tuan Vu's large diptych The Rite to Spring (Riddhi Doshi) The brain always needs time to process the sensory overload of these spectacular events. The paintings, sculptures or installations that stay with the viewer for many days afterwards are the ones that have clearly made an impression. Art SG had many such works. One that particularly stood out was Vietnamese-born artist Tuan Vu's large diptych The Rite to Spring that takes you into an enchanted dream world where women in kimonos sit by a serene water body in a lush green landscape abloom with colourful flowers. Crafted using oil, oil stick, and gold leaf on linen, the work blended Eastern and Western artistic traditions by combining elements from the tropical landscapes of his native country with the colours of the South of France and with Japanese prints. Reflected in the pond are the women in robes with intricate designs. But their faces have no features, no eyes, nose or lips. 'That makes it possible for anyone to see themselves in the painting,' says Vu. There is also a cat in there and birds in cages and flowers that have little musical notations. 'I leave the reading of the work to the viewers' interpretation,' adds the artist who currently lives in Quebec. Vu grew up with six sisters so women have always been the focus of his works. Usually, they are painted nude, like in his work inspired by Édouard Manet's Le Déjeuner sur l'herbe (Luncheon on the Grass, 1863). Vu's version however replaces the two fully dressed men facing a nude woman of the original with two elegantly dressed women. One of them wears traditional Chinese attire and the other is dressed in a Japanese kimono. The three are engaged in a peaceful conversation, as if they've forgotten their countries' conflicted pasts, says Vu, adding that the question to ask really is who is the nude woman and where is she from? The inquiry into womanhood continues in Ravinder Reddy's newest works. His huge heads are on display at Gallerie Nvya's space. The focus of these sculptures is on elaborate hairstyles. One depicts a bun held together with a thick, blue band and decorated with a ring of crystals, followed by a string of orange and white flowers. That's the gajra, that many south Indian women particularly enjoy wearing. There is also a high-relief sculpture version featuring an oval bun held together with a clip and strings of pearls and golden diamonds. 'We have a long tradition of high relief sculptures in India. In our temples and caves,' says Reddy. 'But hardly anyone creates them now. So, I thought why not make them,' he adds. In these new works, Reddy continues his exploration of the female form, celebrating everyday women, their confidence and resilience, and questions traditional beauty standards, cultural pride and identity. The ordinary was also the highlight of Paris-based Shourouk Rhaiem's works. Her series titled Memory and Metamorphosis comprises sculptural replicas of the packaging of everyday products such as soaps, detergents, cola drinks, chips and chocolates encrusted with semi-precious stones and diamonds. It looks very pop art but shinier. Rhaiem's work plays with personal history and collective memory and highlights how ordinary objects can hold profound emotional and cultural significance in the contemporary world. Ravinder Reddy's sculptures focussed on elaborate hairstyles (Riddhi Doshi) It's but a short leap from thinking about the present to imagining the future and Singaporean artist Jahan Loh's Postcards from Space takes precisely that leap. His multimedia and video projection works, paintings and sculptures on space exploration and environmentalism present what it would be like to live in space, to be extraterrestrial bodies, and to ensure that the human species survives. A particularly large video work, that delves into ideas of the interplanetary diaspora and space migration, has two humans in pink space suits somewhere in space interacting with viewers. The Singapore Art Week also featured the Light to Night Festival, whose theme this year was 'Do you see me?' 'As Singapore celebrates its 60th independence anniversary this year, we wanted the theme to be identity driven. We are all always trying to figure out who we are. Do we know who others are? And where they come from? Also, do we really see them? So, this felt like the best theme,' said Vygesh Mohan, director of Light to Night. Also quite fascinating were projections onto the façade of the National Gallery Singapore of the work of artists like Chng Seok Tin, Jaafar Latiff, and Goh Beng Kwan, winners of the Cultural Medallion, the country's award for excellence in arts. Multimedia studio ARAFURA further added to the show by interpreting the theme. Tin's The Spirit of Resilience's projection celebrated the artist's dedication to her art. She continued illustrating despite losing her vision. Imprinted Memory by Kwan traced the artist's evolving practice and self-discovery through his works. The Perception of Beauty by Jaafar Latiff, which used traditional Singaporean batik art to tackle modern subjects, showcased his works from the 1970s to the 1990s. Sculptor Han Sai Por's Traveling through the Tropical Forest featured six large inflatable sculptures resembling tropical ferns at the Padang, an open field in Singapore's Civic District. The work highlighted the often-overlooked natural elements within Singapore's urban landscape such as corals and sea shells. The work of Kenyan artist Thandiwe Muriu (Riddhi Doshi) Singaporean street artist TraseOne transformed the façade of The Arts House into a colourful, multimedia projection, which traced the evolution of Singapore's graffiti scene in a work entitled Now You See Us? Apparently, graffiti which was once underground is now widely accepted. However, the street art scene in Singapore is still heavily regulated by the government. Visually-impaired artist Claire Teo's moving installation Through the Looking Glass inside the National Gallery Singapore put a spotlight on the complexities of human perception. Inspired by Teo's personal journey and the voices of underserved communities, it encouraged viewers to look through narrow openings of different windows to see people from different backgrounds, talking to them. In contrast to all that serious contemporary art, the vibe at the Art Box screamed 'Gen-Z' with displays on space mission-led AI art and pop-art nails, tattoos and sneakers, among other wild and wonderful things. While thought-provoking contemporary works from across the world that discussed things that matter resonated with this viewer, it wouldn't be off the mark to say that the Singapore Art Week had something for everyone. Riddhi Doshi is an independent journalist.
Business Insider
10-07-2025
- General
- Business Insider
My parents think of Vietnam as the country they escaped. I see it as the place I want to live.
This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Ai Vuong, a Vietnamese-born filmmaker who grew up in Texas. Her words have been edited for length and clarity. My parents always reminded me that I was Vietnamese, even though I was growing up in Texas. I was 5 when my family left Vietnam, and 17 when I went back for the first time. On that trip, I was surprised to find I felt more at home there. So after graduating from college, I moved back. I spent the next seven years living in Vietnam before returning to the US. Now, my goal is to return to Southeast Asia. My Family's journey West I was born in a small town in the Mekong Delta in 1986. My parents left Vietnam through the Humanitarian Operation program, which helped former re-education camp detainees immigrate to the US. My dad had been imprisoned multiple times for trying to escape. When my aunt, who had gained US citizenship, sponsored us, we left. Finding my place in Texas We landed in Houston and eventually settled in Dallas, where I was raised in a tight-knit Vietnamese immigrant community. It helped me become fluent in Vietnamese. Still, like many children of immigrants, I grew up quietly ashamed of what made me different. The smell of our food and the sound of my name — "Ai," which sounds like "eye" — made me an easy target for teasing. Kids would point to their eyes or say things like "Hi, Ai." They were daily reminders that I was seen as different. I grew up in a diverse suburb with other immigrant families, which gave me a sense of belonging. My parents, though, faced discrimination — especially my dad, who worked loading boxes. He didn't talk about it much, but over time, I picked up on the harassment and bullying he endured through the little things he let slip. Finding my place in Vietnam I was a junior in high school when we first went back to Vietnam. After that trip, I tried to return every year. I studied anthropology and sociology with a minor in French at the University of Texas at Austin, mostly to comply with my parents' wishes. In 2009, when I was 22, I moved back and joined a volunteer program in Huế, in central Vietnam. Back then, few Vietnamese Americans were doing that, and my relatives in the US wondered why. "Why go back?" they asked. "And why there?" To them, Vietnam was a place they had escaped. But I wasn't going back in fear — I was going back with the intention to reconnect, to immerse myself, and to learn. My parents visited me while I was there. For them, it was just as new — they'd never been to central Vietnam, so they were discovering the culture and dialect alongside me. They expected I'd stay a year. But I ended up living there for seven. They didn't understand why I wanted to stay. To them, the American dream had meant building a career and making money in the US. Fitting in Vietnam, for all its emotional familiarity, also reflected my American identity. I spoke Vietnamese with an accent, and my cultural instincts leaned Western. When it came to work culture, I didn't realize how relational it could be — so much depended on building trust and reading the room. When I arrived, I was used to getting straight to the point. I had to learn to navigate through conversation, timing, and subtle cues. I also struggled with the concept of personal space. In the West, alone time is normal; in Vietnam, it often felt like something I had to fight for — and I felt guilty for wanting it. Even the day-to-day realities — the rhythm of motorbike traffic, the communal intensity of neighborhoods — forced me to recalibrate. Texas was spread out, quiet, and individualistic. In Vietnam, life happened on the street. That duality stayed with me. I had always identified as Vietnamese-American, hyphen and all. But the longer I stayed in Vietnam, the more that label started to feel inadequate. A writer I admire, Gloria Anzaldúa, talks about hybridity — not being half of two things, but something new altogether. That's what I am. A hybrid. The longer-term plan is not in the US Near the end of my time in Vietnam, I began working across the region — and eventually joined a film education program in Cambodia. That's where I met my partner, a Colombian filmmaker. He needed to renew his green card, so we moved back to the States and started our film company, TẠPI Story. We also cofounded The School of Slow Media, which focuses on film education across Asia and the US. Since then, we've created human-driven documentaries and videos for organizations like the UN Environment Programme and Google, and we've filmed on five continents. We felt we needed to build our company and gain skills in the US, where most grants and opportunities are. But long term, the plan is to move back. I don't want to raise a family in the US. I want my children to grow up with a strong sense of interdependence — an awareness of how our lives are connected to others. We're now building toward that next chapter.
Sydney Morning Herald
30-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Sydney Morning Herald
North 54, a modern Vietnamese snack bar from an emerging cooking talent, is coming to Leederville this winter
In his short yet action-packed career as a chef, Bac Pham has cooked many cuisines. He's cooked modern Australian at State Buildings' bustling Petition Kitchen. He's dabbled in Italian cucina at Swanbourne wine bar Vinotto. He's even helped advance the new-wave bowlo food movement with the Special Delivery crew at Doubleview Bowling Club. This July, Pham finally gets to focus full-time on the flavours of his heritage when he opens North 54: a fresh-faced, 25-seat eatery in Leederville serving Vietnamese food. Vietnamese food, it's worth mentioning, as viewed through the lens and life story of a Vietnamese-born, Australian-raised latecomer to the cooking game. 'It's authentic, but it's definitely not traditional [Vietnamese cooking],' says Pham. 'I'm cooking traditional recipes but not doing them the traditional way.
The Age
30-06-2025
- Entertainment
- The Age
North 54, a modern Vietnamese snack bar from an emerging cooking talent, is coming to Leederville this winter
In his short yet action-packed career as a chef, Bac Pham has cooked many cuisines. He's cooked modern Australian at State Buildings' bustling Petition Kitchen. He's dabbled in Italian cucina at Swanbourne wine bar Vinotto. He's even helped advance the new-wave bowlo food movement with the Special Delivery crew at Doubleview Bowling Club. This July, Pham finally gets to focus full-time on the flavours of his heritage when he opens North 54: a fresh-faced, 25-seat eatery in Leederville serving Vietnamese food. Vietnamese food, it's worth mentioning, as viewed through the lens and life story of a Vietnamese-born, Australian-raised latecomer to the cooking game. 'It's authentic, but it's definitely not traditional [Vietnamese cooking],' says Pham. 'I'm cooking traditional recipes but not doing them the traditional way.
