Cafe Lam (1995)
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Destination VN, 5-6/95
Sarah Tilton
It was by accident that Nguyen Van Lam became an art
collector. Books were his hobby. And when he wasn’t looking
for rare books, he was busy starting a cafe in the heart of
Hanoi’s old quarter. But some of his patrons couldn’t pay,
and gave him paintings in lieu of cash for long hours spent
drinking coffee and talking.
Forty years later, Mr. Lam is still serving some of the best
coffee in town, and on the walls of his small, dimly lit
establishment hangs an outstanding collection of modern
Vietnamese art. Connoisseurs skip the city’s Fine Arts
Museum and go directly to Cafe Lam. And unlike the shiny new
bars and restaurants springing up around the city, the
one-room Cafe Lam is both an institution and an education.
Mr. Lam opened his coffee business in late 1949 when he
moved to Hanoi from the countryside. He began with just a
sidewalk stand and later expanded to a cafe on Hung Voi
Street. In 1956, Mr. Lam bought the building at 60 Nguyen
Huu Huan where he still lives and works. The cafe became a
gathering place for students and artists in the ‘50s, a
turbulent time as French colonial rule was coming to an end
and Vietnam was taking control of its own destiny. Many of
the great names in Vietnamese painting passed through here:
Nguyen Sang, Nguyen Tu Nghiem, Van Cao and Bui Xuan Phai,
renowned for his scenes of Hanoi past.
These artists were among the last students of the Ecole des
Beaux Arts de L’Indochine, founded in Hanoi by the French in
1925. While their work reflects the French training, their
ability to combine Western and Asian techniques has been a
strong influence on younger artists. Their legacy now covers
much of the chipped and peeling walls at Cafe Lam.
The collection represents several generations of Vietnamese
painters and is a lesson not just in art, but also in
Vietnamese history. There are oils, watercolors, abstracts,
calligraphy and landscapes of the Vietnamese countryside and
extraordinary Halong Bay. The first generation of artists
studied in Paris or under French teachers at the Ecole des
Beaux Arts. The school later became the Hanoi College of
Fine Arts and guided a new group of students during the war
against the French. Yet another generation, many of them
self-taught, came of age during the war with the U.S.Each of
the almost 1,000 paintings in his ever-expanding collection
holds special memories for Mr. Lam, and he has no plans to
take advantage of Vietnam’s growing art market. Standing
beneath a portrait of himself by Van Cao, he says, "I have
no favorite painting. I love them all."
He dreams of having a space in which to exhibit the works
properly.
Some of the art is in the cafe, but if you want to see the
full collection ask Mr. Lam or his wife to take you behind
the beaded curtain that leads to their living room. Their
personal quarters are furnished with an opium bed, a fan, a
couch, two chairs, some of Mr. Lam’s books, stacks of
Chinese and Vietnamese ceramics and a seemingly impossible
number of paintings.
The works survived the American war in Vietnam in good
condition - Mr. Lam moved them into an air- raid shelter for
safe keeping. It’s not as clear, however, if the collection
and the landmark home on one of the historic 36 streets that
make up the city’s original ancient quarter north of Hoan
Kiem Lake, the Lake of the Restored Sword, will fare as well
in the ‘90s. Cafe Lam is ensconced on the eastern edge of
the old quarter, a short stroll from the lake. It is one of
thousands of charming but dilapidated buildings, some of
them dating back to the 15th century, when the streets were
named for the tradesmen who set up shop there: Silk Street,
Flower Street, Paper Street. Even now, the best silk shops
are on Hang Gai Street, and for chopped-fish restaurants try
Cha Ca Street, literally "Fried Fish Street."
But not everyone wants to live in an overcrowded
architectural museum that lacks even the most basic
amenities. Thus, with land prices skyrocketing and eager
developers desperate to secure space in downtown Hanoi,
construction cranes now crowd the skyline.
Mr. Lam fears that old Hanoi, much of which can now only be
seen in the Phai paintings on his walls, will soon be
completely obliterated as conservationists lose the battle
against the wrecking ball. "The American bombs were not very
destructive compared to the way money is now destroying the
city. The bombs did not destroy too many old trees and
buildings. Now money is ruining Hanoi. I am sorry for the
old buildings, the old trees."
Although the artists are gone, the cafe still attracts a
loyal clientele who sit on miniature stools clustered around
seven worn wooden tables. Ceiling fans keep the house cool
in the summer. You can also sit outside and watch the
pedicabs and hawkers ply the tree-lined street.
Nguyen Khuyen, editor in chief of the Vietnam News, has
frequented Cafe Lam since his student days. He remembers the
walls before they were covered with modern masterpieces. He
remembers the days when the painters stopped by for a drink.
Decades later, this remains his cafe of choice, a familiar
haunt where he is sure to run into friends. But his main
reason for coming to Cafe Lam is the coffee, and he boasts
that he drinks it "straight," a form that many foreigners
find a bit too robust. Even a few sips of the potent brew
are contraindicated for those with heart conditions.
Mr. Lam learned to make coffee from his father. He serves it
hot, iced, black or, as is common in Vietnam, with a layer
of sweetened condensed milk in the bottom of the cup. He
points out that he can make coffee to suit French or
Vietnamese tastes.
What makes his coffee special? "It takes time to make good
coffee. I choose the beans myself and dry them by a small
flame and then grind them." Now 65 years old and
semiretired, he has taught two of his seven children to
carry on the tradition. The cafe, open daily from 6 A.M. to
10 P.M., also offers Coca- Cola, beer, Ovaltine and
fresh-squeezed orange or lemon juice.
The Lams keep a visitors’ book in the back room. A medley of
travelers, admirers and museum curators have filled the
pages with sketches, tributes and messages in every
language. One guest left these words: "One is drawn to the
time when the masters wandered in and out exchanging a
painting for a coffee and probably a good dose of
encouragement and support. Your role has had an historical
equivalent in every period in every place, which seems to
bring us all together."
In an increasingly commercial city, the house of Lam is one
of the last places you can glimpse old Hanoi and bask in the
romance and somnolence of an age that is all but gone.
Cafe Lam
Getting there: Coming from the direction of the Metropole
Hotel or the Government Guest House, Cafe Lam is a block and
a half north of Cathay Pacific’s office on Pho Ly Thai To, a
main avenue that continues into Nguyen Huu Huan. The cafe,
faded yellow with green shutters, is on the west side of the
street. A cadmium- yellow signboard hanging over the window
shouts "CAFE" in bright red letters. The sign also has the
address and two large words in blue: rang xay, meaning
roasted and ground.
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