In Souls Migration to the Mekong Delta, Quang Lam deepens his ongoing engagement with history, memory, and identity—both familial and collective—continuing a trajectory already visible in his previous works featured on Urbanautica. What begins as a personal quest to locate his family’s ancestral tombs in Bac Lieu expands into a multilayered meditation on cultural migration, photographic heritage, and the elusive nature of remembrance.
Lam’s journey through the Mekong Delta unfolds in a landscape where Vietnamese, Chinese, and Khmer histories interlace, shaping the region’s social fabric. His inability to find the tombs becomes a conceptual pivot: in their physical absence, memory migrates elsewhere, re-emerging through unexpected encounters. The discovery of rare glass negatives from the historic “Yiem Young Photographie” studio becomes a surrogate form of communion with the past. These fragile plates—flat surfaces dense with silver, oxidation, and time—transform into spectral portals. They evoke the tradition of memento mori photography while raising perennial questions about portraiture’s ability to capture, or even steal, a human soul.
Lam reflects on how the face operates as a vessel of reminiscence: an image that resurfaces unbidden, like an old photograph found by chance. The countless anonymous portraits he later encounters in the promotion of the film Prince of Bac Lieu reinforce this idea. From still to moving images, from physical bodies to metaphorical icons, Lam traces how the “migration of the soul” occurs through visual culture itself.
Ultimately, the project reveals how the past persists—often quietly, insistently—knocking at our doors through images that refuse to fade. Lam embraces this inexorable return, turning photography into both an archaeological tool and a poetic ritual, Sisyphean yet necessary, in the search for identity.