Tung Duong: The singing man

Tung Duong has hardly aged after more than two "decades of jubilation" (a phrase he used for a live show marking his 10th anniversary), if not to say he's even more radiant than he was back when he was "wandering aimlessly chasing birds," as I used to tease him. The only difference is Duong's gaze when he talks. While before, it was sometimes a vague, unfocused look, not quite in sync with the decisiveness in his words and professional attitude, over time, that gaze has become more coherent and "synchronized" with his words and actions. It feels like this is when Duong sees his path more clearly than ever – a unique, independent path, but not at all lonely, in the way he keenly adapts and skillfully combines, seeking parallels to nurture his artistic growth. This time, it's for young people, and there will absolutely be no divas in the "The Singing Man" live concert, scheduled to take place on November 23rd at the National Convention Center ( Hanoi ).

Why, after a series of grandiose and seemingly dangerous titles like: Heaven and Earth, The Solitary Path, Human, The Four Rivers of the Red River …, has there suddenly been such a gentle and simple title: The Singing Man ?

Perhaps it's due to the maturity of age? Having passed 40, I increasingly find myself listening more clearly without needing to turn up the volume. It's time to realize that the simpler things are, the longer they resonate with the public. Reaching what's closest to you is the way to go the furthest. Microscopic things like "Li Ti" or macroscopic things like " Heaven and Earth" are just different names, but ultimately, reaching the very depths of the macro is also microscopic, and vice versa.

"The singing woman" was once the "identifier" for the legendary Russian singer Alla Pugacheva and was later used for the "Vietnamese version," Thanh Lam. Simple yet proud. Does it resemble the definition of " The singing man" ?

"The singing man" is actually a nickname that veteran musician Doãn Nho spontaneously gave me when he was pleased with my rendition of the song "Chiếc khăn piêu" (The Piêu Scarf ). To me, it's more of a noun than an adjective, referring to a man who doesn't know how to do anything else besides… singing ( laughs ). But precisely because I don't know how to do anything else besides singing, it must be the job I can do best with all my positive energy.

But one of the three parts of the live concert still features a very Tung Duong-esque title: Multiverse (Tung Duong's latest album, released around the same time - PV). The sense of the universe has always haunted him, why?

To some extent, I've always admired the simple yet profound philosophy of the scientist Albert Einstein regarding cosmology, what he called "the religion of the future," because it encompasses everything—nature and spirituality, soul and body... I've always liked establishing my place within that multidimensional space of the universe, as a microcosm. Knowing that I am forever just a tiny being amidst the vast and boundless universe is also a way of reminding myself: even if I'm just a grain of sand, I should strive to be a multifaceted "cube" containing within me the qualities of crystal: always capable of catching and shining under the sunlight. Placing myself there isn't about letting loneliness consume me, but about helping my soul become more expansive and less idealized by my inflated ego.

It's not a permanent feeling, but in the face of the recent devastation caused by natural disasters, storms, and floods in the northernmost part of the country, many of us once again feel that human life is sometimes so insignificant in the face of nature's power. There are men who have lost all their tears when they suddenly lose their entire families… Have you ever felt, in the face of life's harsh realities, that your artistic philosophies suddenly seem frivolous and extravagant?

It would be a luxury and a frivolous act for an artist to remain indifferent to the fate of their people and their country. When I decided to be one of the first artists, along with my friends, to quickly join hands in helping our compatriots affected by floods in Thai Nguyen , Yen Bai, and other areas, it was then that I became more aware than ever of an artist's responsibility to the community; that art is only beautiful when it is born from life and serves that very life. When I sang "Men Don't Need to Cry," it was because I deeply empathized with the suffering of those who always bear the burden of "pride, dignity, and responsibility," and whose tears have to "reverse into hearts already filled with sorrow" when "the raging storms raged in the night." and ruined their lives…

After the tears will come the songs, to help soothe some of the pain that hasn't yet healed...

Vietnamese music once went through a period of overabundance of sentimental songs and a "female dominance" with a lack of masculine voices; but in recent years, the balance seems to have been re-established with the emergence of many more masculine male singers. As someone who closely observes the market, do you agree with this?

There was a time when I felt very worried about Vietnamese music because of its monotony, and then, the influx of "spoken language," fast food culture, TikTok… At that time, even with my eyes closed, I probably couldn't have imagined that I could ever cover songs like "Who Can Remain Faithful Forever " with its seemingly "obscure" and ambiguous lyrics; or that Dong Thien Duc, the author of those lyrics, was also the one who wrote "A Round Trip Around Vietnam ," a wonderful song about the country. The closer I got and the more carefully I observed, the more I realized that one shouldn't hold a conservative view when considering things, especially in art.

Before, everything I did was to prove: Only difficult things require Tung Duong, and Tung Duong has to "sing the hard part"; but now I feel I've been "fiery" enough. I'm still the same passionate Tung Duong on stage, but no longer the Tung Duong whose heart is always burning with intensity. Now I work more calmly and relaxedly, not straining like before. Because I've realized that being rebellious in art doesn't mean being stubborn and conservative. It's necessary to be steadfast in my own choices, but also to be more open to things different from mine. That, in my opinion, is also a masculine perspective.

So what is Tùng Dương's most distinctive masculine trait?

It's about being determined in art, seeing things through to the end, keeping your promises, and never making promises and then leaving them unfulfilled!

I told Tung Duong that the title of his music video "Men Don't Need to Cry " and his live concert "The Singing Man " reminded me of a collection of short stories that won an award from the Vietnam Writers Association 30 years ago: " The Crying and the Singing " by writer Trang The Hy. I know Tung Duong is one of the few singers who makes an effort to read (he likes the poetry of Luu Quang Vu and Vi Thuy Linh), but I guess his generation of 80s kids might have overlooked that important work by the famous Southern writer?

You're mistaken! As soon as I stumbled upon those words online, I made sure to find and read the work because I really liked the idea. For me, and especially for a singer like myself—and not just any singer—those are the two most important sounds in a person's life. Crying is the first sound a person makes when they begin to enter life, while singing is the unique timbre of each individual in the symphony of life until their voice fades. Crying might seem similar because it comes from the unconscious, but singing is different; it's our conscious awareness of life, of whether we will contribute a beautiful or not-so-beautiful sound to that overall symphony…

And what about laughter? It's clear you're someone who laughs a lot, isn't it?

Laughing out loud is different! Laughter is for joy, but sometimes it's also a way to release and mask sadness, or a hidden anxiety. " Crying and laughing are just temporary/Everyone goes through a phase/Once sadness is gone, we can be happy/Whether crying or laughing, we still have to be human …" as I once sang in my album Human …

Recently, I've also had the opportunity to hear some beautiful songs about our country, such as "Around Vietnam ," and most recently, the national anthem "Marching Song," which I had the chance to hear for the first time. Singing the complete first and second verses live on television from the Thang Long Imperial Citadel stage on the occasion of the 70th anniversary of the liberation of the capital on October 10th was a truly special feeling! Nearly three months ago, when I witnessed the image of the legendary singer Celine Dion performing the masterpiece "Hymn of Love" from the top of the Eiffel Tower at the opening ceremony of the Paris 2024 Olympics, I was moved to tears by such a beautiful moment of a singer at the peak of their career in every aspect: talent, resilience, the message she conveyed… It was truly a beautiful symbol of an artist reaching the highest peak on their path of dedication. A beauty so pure!

Standing on the stage at Thang Long Imperial Citadel, at the highest point, to sing the entire two verses of the national anthem "Marching Song" for the first time, at a special moment marking the 70th anniversary, I felt a beautiful and sacred emotion welling up inside me, an emotion not easily experienced…

The height I most long to reach right now is those sacred feelings.