Early Wednesday morning, the French consulate on Le Duan is brimming with activity. As journalists, investors, artists and gallery owners gather around plates of pastries and cups of coffee, two women dressed in sleek black attire slip into the main room. Awaiting us is a press conference, being held in the beautiful colonial-era villa part of the consulate.
Over the course of the next 2 hours, we are introduced to Emmie Massias and Marine Col, and their project, Héritages Nacrés (Nacred Heritage), exploring traditional Vietnamese mother-of-pearl marquetry. Nominated as a laureate of the Villa Saigon residency program, they have 2 months to present a research project linking French creatives to Vietnamese culture. To this end, they rely on the network, financing and support of the French Cultural Institute of Vietnam.
Emmie Massias is a young French-Vietnamese artist. Over the past 7 years, she’s been exploring local dynamics across the world through her art. From sculptures to furniture and objects, she adapts her medium to the unique characteristics of the locality she’s exploring, be it Eindhoven, Sicily or Guadalajara. Together with her collaborator, Marine Col, she’s opened Amalgame Studio, a design studio exploring non-linear processes of research and experimentation.
We met at the University of Fine Arts, where Emmie and Marine have been running a workshop on marquetry with local students. Perched atop a high stool at a counter while she was preparing to teach a workshop, she had a chat with me over a tall glass of ca phe sua da. The following is an excerpt of our conversation.
What's your connection to Vietnam?
I was actually born in France. Me and my mom came here when I was 8, I left when I was 16. My mom is Vietnamese. She left in ‘75, and after a while she felt she needed to reconnect with her homeland. When we visited Saigon for the first time in 2002, it was immediately clear to her that she was going to stay, despite a lack of close family relatives. She has a few cousins still around but most of her family is overseas.
What motivated you to come back here and do a project?
Two and half years ago, I wrapped up a Masters in Geo-Design at Design Academy Eindhoven. My practice became research-based, supporting the design and sculptural work I make. Many of my projects ended up investigating the social, political and environmental landscape in Vietnam.
My Masters graduation project looked into tensions between China and Vietnam over the damming of the Mekong. I chose ceramics and participatory performance as media to express this.
I’ve always wanted to come back and do a project here, but I felt restrained because of my lack of connections. Applying for the Villa Saigon residency program gave me the support, funding and network necessary to push the project forward without having to take a leap of faith into the unknown.
For the residency, Marine and I were selected as part of the craftsmanship and visual arts category. We chose to investigate traditional Vietnamese mother of pearl inlay and marquetry as a lens to reflect on the local cultural context, exploring the historical and social dynamics tied to this craft and its slow disappearance.
I’ve always wanted to collaborate with Vietnamese craftsmen, and also with local art students. It’s great we’re meeting here at the University of Fine Arts.
Of all the traditional Vietnamese art styles, why marquetry?
I love ceramics, when I was in Mexico last year, I took part in my first ceramics art residency, and with Marine we developed a lot of work involving stone and wood. That being said, marquetry was a technique we both never had the experience working with before.
I grew up around it, it’s a staple of traditional Vietnamese furniture ; my mother has a set of antique pieces with nacre inlay at our home. I always had a fascination for it, even if I didn’t have a taste for it. I was, and still am, drawn to the delicacy behind the craft, even if the intricate detail isn’t my thing.
The way it tells stories through traditional scenes and meticulous patterns and symbols. The precision it requires. It’s a rigorous process that involves multiple specialized skills, often spread across different workshops today.
At first, I didn’t realize marquetry was in decline in Vietnam. I only became aware of it when I started the research a few months ago. What struck me most was how little the technique has changed. It has resisted evolution in a way that feels both precious and fragile.
In Europe, our experience was the opposite. Both Marine and I were pushed to question traditional processes, explore new materials, and rethink how craftsmanship could adapt to contemporary forms.
This project started taking shape during my studies in the Netherlands. I was already exploring the connection between oysters, mother-of-pearl marquetry, material culture, and even water management.
But it also became a way to reconnect with my Vietnamese heritage through design and craftsmanship. At the same time, I wanted to consider the historical and colonial forces that shaped these practices—especially in relation to my French-Vietnamese background.
You spoke a lot during the press conference about blending modernity and tradition. What future do you think Vietnamese marquetry has?
From what I’ve seen, mother-of-pearl marquetry is a tradition that is disappearing. It’s been hard to find workshops in Saigon. I went to Chuyên Mỹ, a village near Hanoi known for marquetry, but when I got there, only a few workshops were left. The craftsmen told me young people don’t want to “waste their time” learning nacre inlay or taking over their family’s business.
The craft is expensive. It doesn’t fit the minimalist, sleek aesthetic that’s popular with Vietnam’s young middle class. If it’s going to evolve, it needs to engage with designers and artists.
Craft doesn’t change on its own. It either stays stuck in the luxury world—controlled by big brands—or gets reduced to “handicraft” for tourists. I hate that word. It devalues the know-how and craftsmanship behind the art. Luckily there’s still a big market for antique furniture so a lot of collectors are preserving these pieces.
There’s also something sacred about it. Mother-of-pearl inlay is often found on altars and shrines. It’s connected to honoring ancestors. The imagery tells stories that have been passed down for generations.
But letting it evolve—using new materials, like leftover abalone shells—doesn’t mean losing the tradition. It’s about keeping the knowledge alive, while opening up new creative possibilities.
Part of our research is about finding a visual language that feels relevant today. That romantic, exoticized image of a young woman in an áo dài, sailing down a misty river, doesn’t reflect Vietnamese society, or the urban landscape and culture as we know it today.
We’re trying to get students to express themselves and their own stories through this craft. During our workshops, we haven been giving them total reign on creative process and material experimentation. I hope young artists can see the potential in marquetry, reclaiming traditional techniques and exploring alternative processes so that new narratives can emerge.
You have experience all over the world, do you think climate change is becoming a threat to traditional forms of craftsmanship?
Absolutely. Climate change isn’t just threatening craftsmanship, it’s making materials scarce and expensive. Many artisans rely on natural resources that are directly affected by shifting climate conditions. We’ve seen prices rise because of unstable supply.
In Vietnam, rising costs and industrialization are pushing artisans toward synthetic alternatives. For instance, lacquer, traditionally used as a natural glue and finish, is now often replaced by industrial resins and varnishes because lacquer trees are harder to cultivate.
Since processing lacquer is fully artisanal, it has become an expensive resource. The same goes for mother-of-pearl inlay. Some artisans even buy antique objects inlaid with mother-of-pearl, break them apart, and reuse the nacre because sourcing new materials is so challenging.
Overproduction is another issue. In Europe, it doesn’t make sense to keep extracting natural resources when there are already so many materials in circulation. We need to rethink how we use what’s already available.
For this project, we’ve been collecting abalone and oyster shells from restaurants. Materials traditionally considered "waste" but still valuable. Rising water temperatures are affecting aquatic farming, so it’s crucial to reassess where materials come from. Processing these shells takes time, but treating them as a precious resource rather than waste is part of our approach.
Vietnam already has a strong culture of recycling cans, plastic bottles, bags…nothing is thrown away without a second thought. That mindset aligns with our philosophy at Amalgame Studio. We often think about how materials can be disassembled and returned to their life cycle instead of being permanently bound together.
Traditional artisans also assemble rather than blend and bind materials, but industrial production and synthetic alternatives are replacing these methods. Whether in Vietnam or Europe, we need to consider how we source, reuse, and preserve materials so that traditional craftsmanship can evolve while staying relevant.
Have you considered exploring other Vietnamese art styles, like ceramics?
I definitely want to explore ceramics, because that’s my background. When I went on a trip to Hanoi, I visited the most renowned ceramics and pottery village in Vietnam, Bat Trang. I’m definitely planning on doing a project there at some point.
At the moment I’m really into foraging and processing my own clay, and studying the key ceramic production factors of the area I collect it from. Connecting with the clay, the earth and getting into the local social and territorial dynamics. I’ve done it in Sicily and Mexico, Vietnam is next.
I’m building a workshop in the back of my house right now, I need to save up for a kiln if I want to get into firing and glazing. I’ve been looking into making my own glazes.
In Guadalajara, Mexico, I visited a massive sugar factory. The sugarcanes are burnt after extraction, and the factory keeps the mountains of ashes. They’re perfect for making glazes and readily available, they’re a by-product, so it’s cheap and easy to get some. I definitely want to try making ash glazes here, there’s a lot of similar by-products that would be suitable.
Marine and I are also interested in working with stone carvers. There’s so many different traditional crafts in Vietnam, it’s super exciting to be here and be able to work directly with craftspeople.
Are you considering a return to / future in Vietnam?
I’m planning to stay for a while. At first, I thought I’d only be here for a two-month residency. But my mom lives here, and it’s been incredible reconnecting with her and the city I grew up in. I feel really attached to HCMC and want to build on that.
There is no urgency pulling me back to Europe. I’ve lived in the Netherlands, France, and the U.K., so my friends and network are spread across Europe. I also spent an incredible year in Mexico, where I started Amalgame Studio with Marine, and where I could see myself returning to some day.
The residency at Villa Saigon has allowed me to experience living in Vietnam as a creative professional, and has confirmed what I was already feeling, that I want to stay. There’s a creative bubble here, it’s a community I want to contribute to, and access to resources and craftsmen is unparalleled. Here, there is a real need to revive traditional industries.
In Europe, craftsmanship is already being preserved by organisations and educational programs. Artisans collaborate with brands and designers, and cultural institutions support artisans by funding and actively showcasing their work. Here, workshops are disappearing because there’s little government support or framework to preserve that heritage.
I don’t know for how long I plan to stay, but the workshop I’m building behind my mom’s house should keep me busy for a while. At some point, I’d love to showcase a collective exhibition on contemporary Vietnamese craft and design out to Europe. So if I stay here, I’ll make sure people see it over there too.
Thank you for everything Emmie. Happy teaching!
By bringing traditional technique into modern times and making accessibility a key feature, Emmie is helping to define the future of Vietnamese marquetry as a cultural asset.
Héritages Nacrés will be exposed on March 20th at 6pm at the IDECAF French cultural center.