Vừng ơi! Mở ra Sesame, open!

“Sesame, open!”—a phrase from Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves—has always meant more than just opening a door. It’s about discovering something hidden, something precious. It was used as the name of an event organized by DomDom–The Hub for Experimental Music & Art in 2013, the same year I joined their Chamber Music course.

Looking back, the title couldn’t have been more fitting. It wasn’t just about performing at that event; it was about everything it unlocked in me. That moment marked the beginning of a transformation, which helped open my eyes, my ears, and my mind. It made me question how I feel, what I truly want from music, and what kind of life I want to live as an artist. It gave me space to explore, take risks, and truly listen to others and myself. It’s something I carry with me to this day. 

***Figure 01 - Musicians and composers of “Sesame, open!” concert 

Before I share more about my journey with DomDom, I want to mention someone who has been deeply important in my artistic path. Trần Kim Ngọc is not only the founder and artistic director of DomDom, but also a composer, improviser, mixed-media artist, and my first teacher of improvisation and composition. She is recognized not only for her chamber and orchestral works but also for her innovative music-theatre compositions.

Beginning her career as a composer, Kim Ngọc has dedicated much of her work to developing an interdisciplinary artistic language. Her central interest lies in exploring the nature of the individual within different social conditions. Presenting her works at numerous international festivals has given her wide-ranging experience, which in turn has fuelled her mission to build an experimental music scene in Vietnam. Before 2010, only a handful of people in the country were even aware of experimental music, and it was extremely difficult for her to remain active, perform, or present her compositions. Yet, driven by passion and determination, she kept moving forward and found a way to realize her vision.

She once shared that she often felt lonely in those early years—longing for more artists to exchange ideas with, to play together, and to create something truly exciting as a community. Today, as a key figure in Vietnam’s avant-garde music scene, Kim Ngọc has not only paved the way for experimental sound but also continues to inspire and guide the next generation of artists. Her contribution to Hanoi’s music community is immense. Beyond founding an art space or offering courses, she has created real opportunities for musicians to gain hands-on experience through performance, while broadening their horizons through collaborations with artists from across the globe.

Founded in 2012, DomDom became the first independent interdisciplinary center fully dedicated to the development of Vietnamese experimental music and its collaborations with other art forms. The center supports all forms of contemporary music and artistic practice. Its mission includes: establishing the first creative platform for experimental music in Vietnam; introducing and educating the Vietnamese public about experimental and contemporary art; and providing training for young composers and musicians to build a strong foundation for the Vietnamese experimental and contemporary scene. DomDom also runs an audience development program to foster public appreciation and participation in new music. 

I still remember the first time I met Kim Ngọc. It was during my interview for the Chamber Music course at DomDom in 2013. I applied as a pianist, eager to learn more about new music and to discover interesting works to analyze and write about as part of my musicology studies. To get into the course was quite competitive, and many pianists had applied. But somehow, I was lucky enough to be one of the few selected. I can’t fully describe how happy I was when I received the phone call confirming my acceptance.

The Chamber Music course was my first real encounter with the practice of new music. I studied with Stefan Östersjö and Terje Thiwång, both of whom are members of Ensemble Ars Nova, as well as Nguyễn Thanh Thuỷ. They brought many scores with different forms, introduced us to various composers, and guided us in how to interpret and perform their works. I learned to play prepared piano and how to read graphic scores, both things I had never done before.

***Figure 2: Final concert of the first training courses of Contemporary Experimental Music

After that, I attended Kim Ngọc’s Improvisation class in 2014. The course was about a journey of self-discovery, an adventure designed to help young musicians and music students develop their personalities, build their artistic aesthetics, and deepen their improvisation skills for experimental music. Kim Ngọc introduced various exercises that encouraged us to pay close attention to musical material, sharpen our listening skills, and truly listen to both ourselves and others. We also had the chance to listen to music by various prominent and active experimental musicians and improvisers from diverse art scenes. 

One memory from that class has stayed with me ever since. Kim Ngọc had asked each of us to choose an adjective that we felt best described ourselves and to express it through music. Everyone performed solo, and the others in the course attempted to guess the word. Most people succeeded—others could easily guess their chosen adjective. But not me. I chose the word ‘strong’. I tried twice to express it through my playing, but it didn’t work. No one could sense it. Kim Ngọc gently told me to take some time and try again in the next class. I felt disappointed in myself. On the way home, I kept asking myself: Why? Why didn’t it work? And then I started to cry. I knew something wasn’t right. Was ‘strong’ really how I saw myself? 

That night, I had a long conversation with myself. Slowly, I began to realize that ‘strong’ wasn’t how I truly felt about myself. I had been hiding my emotions. It was hard to open up. I felt like something was missing. I wondered, if I’m not strong, how will I get through life? In the next class, I stopped overthinking. I let my emotions flow freely. I sang, and I used two bows to create a long, droning sound. It was melancholy. It was like someone was waiting. It carried the weight of loneliness. And this time, people guessed it immediately. They felt what I was expressing, which meant I had finally connected with my feelings. That moment taught me something profound: what I think about myself is often who I want to be, not how I am at that moment. Whether good or bad, real or imagined, I need to listen to those feelings, open my heart, and accept them. 

Over the years, I have performed many times at DomDom, and played with many different artists. Performing in groups of various sizes helped me gain valuable experience. I started with the piano and gradually moved on to playing with different objects such as bowls, tin cans, boxes, a T’rung souvenir instrument, a melodica, plastic bottles, and tapes… Each shift opened me up to discovering the unique sound possibilities of each object.

Every time I perform, I try to stay focused and see it as a challenge to overcome my nervousness. Through this process, I’ve learned not only to listen more deeply but also to respond more intuitively, especially during improvisation. Each performance becomes an exploration. It’s about being present, recognizing the connections and interactions that are happening in the moment. 

Being with everyone at DomDom felt like being with family—growing up together through music. Improvisationally, we began forming small groups, playing together, working on compositions, developing ideas, and building musical structures. As I started to compose more seriously, I began to further appreciate the way Kim Ngọc encouraged me. Instead of showing me step by step how to compose, she gave me the freedom to find my own path. Beyond music, I also became interested in performance art and in discovering how to connect the two forms. I often brought ideas to her, and we would have long, thoughtful conversations. She asked me challenging questions that pushed me to think about and to discover what I truly wanted to express. Our conversations were not always easy, in fact sometimes they proved really hard. But I told myself I needed those challenges to grow and become more mature. She trusted my talent as well and through studying with her I’ve learned not only about music but also about my own capabilities.

In 2017, soon after Kim Ngọc took a break from teaching the improvisation class, I founded the DomDom–Contemporary & Experimental Music Club. Most of the Club members had studied with Kim Ngọc. My aim in creating this club was not only to continue the work we had done in class, but to open it to all musicians interested in improvisation and experimental music. We held weekly events, including talks, concerts, and jam sessions. Later, contemporary dance and contact improvisation artists also joined us. Together, we organized several workshops and performances.

***Figure 3: an event of DomDom-Contemporary & Experimental Music Club | Figure 4: Members of the Club perform with dancers

DomDom–The Hub for Experimental Music & Art’s influence also extended to the larger music community. DomDom organized the first Hanoi New Music Festival in 2013, titled Blind Spot, and again in 2018 under the title Make a Silence, to date one of the largest gatherings of experimental musicians in Vietnam. Many DomDom members participated and had the opportunity to perform alongside artists from all over the world. These events created powerful moments of exchange, connection, and learning.

Looking back, I see that DomDom was the place where I first began to grow into the artist I am today. It gave me the tools, the courage, and the freedom to explore who I truly am, not just as a musician, but as a human being. And like the words “Sesame, open!” it continues to remind me that creativity is an invitation—to open, to discover, and to transform.