2026 — Hanoi, Vietnam
About this series
An island in the middle of the Red River, in Hanoi. Fragile, flood-prone, threatened by rising waters and a government marina project. Every evening, after dark, men cross the bridge to reach it. They leave the city behind. They come to smoke thuốc lào, warm themselves by a fire, find a patch of nature, sing melancholic V-pop in an improvised karaoke, or bet on roosters at cockfights where power and belonging are staged.
On this in-between island, far from prying eyes and modernity, Vietnamese men come to escape the weight of social norms, family pressure, the burden of generational duty, the stigma of divorce, the shame of failure, the impossibility of living one’s sexuality openly. For others, it is a quest for transgression and desires that have not yet found their words.
These temporary male communities exist in a permanent social blind spot. Their modesty, their silences, the way they inhabit the night are all narratives that the official framework — familial, cultural, political — prefers to leave in the shadows.
Photographing the island means choosing to step outside the frame: moving away from a developing Hanoi, from heroic or miserabilist portrayals of Vietnam, to enter something more turbid, more complex, and perhaps more true. Before the island disappears. Before its inhabitants are, in turn, absorbed or excluded.
Photographer: Adrien Viot
Nationality: French
Based in: Paris, France
Website: adrienviot.com
Instagram: @viotadrien
Adrien Viot is a musician, audiovisual archivist, and photographer. It is within the intimacy of his night images that his questions emerge about what men keep silent and hiden. At the crossroads of reportage and experimentation, he is interested in the injunctions that shape masculinities and relegate men to isolation, sometimes to secrecy. His gaze settles on what the official framework; family, cultural, political prefers to leave in the shadows.