From TikTok to Bars, a Group of Young Artists Brings Đờn Ca Tài Tử to Unexpected Venues

“If you happen to pass by Huỳnh Mẫn Đạt Street in Hồ Chí Minh City
There’s a strange bar with a Mekong theme
Where cải lương is performed every Saturday, a piece of our hometown heritage
Beside the show, you’ll have a chat with Đờn Ca Đó Đây troupe
A Mekong corner in the middle of skyscrapers”

This intriguing invitation appeared on my social media, a whimsical suggestion in the middle of Saigon. As someone who grew up to the sounds of Mekong Delta folk melodies, I was immediately curious of the promise of a đờn ca tài tử experience inside a city bar. Upon doing more research, I learned that the venue was just one of many spontaneous stages of Đờn Ca Đó Đây, a collective of young Vietnamese who found one another in their quest to promote the beauty of southern đờn ca tài tử arts in the mid of Saigon.

From random encounters to a borderless space for đờn ca

As a performance art form, southern đờn ca tài tử has been around for over a hundred years. This genre of folk performance had its start in the ceremonial orchestral music from Huế — which originated from court music itself — but under the influence of folk music in the south. At first, it followed musicians and artists from the central region as they emigrated to the south, and then was adapted to the local culture. Đờn ca tài tử reflects the sentiments, spirits, and living circumstances of communities living in this new land of natural resources. The end of the 19th century was the apex of đờn ca tài tử, when melodies, compositions, and techniques were created and systematized in documentations, becoming a comprehensive wealth of folk art that has continued to exist alongside southern Vietnamese.

A đờn ca tài tử troupe in Saigon in 1911. Photo via Wikipedia.

I managed to arrange a phone call with Đỗ Thanh Phong, the leader of Đờn Ca Đó Đây, on an afternoon when I was visiting my hometown in the delta. I sat on the deck in the back of our homestead, with a placid river and thickets of swaying mangroves in front of my eyes, as I listened to Phong’s stories. Our conversation flowed in and out amid the rustling breeze and memories of a đờn ca lover living in Saigon. These contrasting settings somehow meet in the middle, where these melodies ring.

Members of Đờn Ca Đó Đây.

Although Phong is quite busy handling tasks at his own office job, he still channels as much effort as he can to sustain folk arts. Phong himself can play đàn tranh, or Vietnamese zither, on a novice level, and is tasked with connecting collective members, envisioning group directions, and helping to maintain cohesion without losing freedom.

True to its name, Đờn Ca Đó Đây was born of impromptu performances.

Phong reminisced about the early days at Lê Văn Tám Park in Saigon, where they first convened to play together: “Back in the days, we often met at the park. Right in between busy streets and crazy traffic, there was one corner where the mood turned contemplative thanks to the music and vocals. A few instruments and a few music lovers can carve out a very distinctive space for art.”

A practice session at a cafe.

From such rustic setups, Đờn Ca Đó Đây gradually took shape. Members come from different walks of life: a teacher, a worker, an engineer, a student, etc. Albeit not professionally trained, they all share a passion for đờn ca tài tử and cải lương. The collective found one another first via social media, and then started organizing offline meetings from the beginning of 2025 at the park. In March 2025, the group became more organized and began performing at casual venues like eateries, schools, exhibitions, and especially bars, bringing a novel experience to listeners.

A show by Đờn Ca Đó Đây at Hai Tô Bar.

Many key members of the group’s current roster were recruited from chance encounters. Phong recalls: “I got to know one of them when he was just in 11th grade in Đồng Tháp, via his practice videos on TikTok. We started chatting about instruments. When he moved to the city for college, he asked to meet me. When we met, I recognized his musical talent straight away, so I connected him with other members. Since then, he’s been in charge as our music expert, establishing the musical identity of the group, in addition to musical arrangement and editing our content.”

Another member who works as a teacher for his day job can make use of his pedagogy skills to facilitate the group’s school outreach programs. He is tasked with writing the script, planning the content, and executing it in a way that’s accessible and educational so the knowledge can reach the school children.

Promoting the art of đờn ca tài tử to the younger generation at their school.

Right from the name Đờn Ca Đó Đây, the collective is very clear about their operation philosophy. It can be loosely translated as “performing here and there,” reflecting the group’s “nomadic” nature. They can perform at a range of different venues and not just on stage, for anyone who is interested enough to listen and connect. Music then, can transcend the confines of a one-way performance to be a two-way interaction. The performers and the spectators are brought closer.

A contemporary language to chronicle an age-old art form

Đờn ca tài tử was not an intentional destination ifor many collective members, but it managed to find them again by evoking their childhood memories, such as the quiet evenings watching TV with their family members or festive gatherings at the village temple. Even without professional music training, these formative experiences have fostered a fondness for đờn ca tài tử within them. During the lockdowns of the COVID-19 pandemic, when everything came to a standstill, some found time to explore this connection deeper and transition from merely consuming to learning, practicing, and even creating.

Regarding đờn ca tài tử, they are aware that the art form’s biggest barrier is the public’s stigma. Đờn ca tài tử and cải lương are usually thought of as sentimental, obsolete, and inapproachable. Nonetheless, they believe that these are not inherent to the music, but could be the result of the execution and communication, so they try to present đờn ca using a language of the modern society. The performance content is adjusted to reflect more familiar social issues like career pressures, urban ailments, and the mental state of young people. The execution is also refreshed to fit each venue and its audience.

During interaction sessions, even audience members can join in.

The performances at local bars have been especially acclaimed for their high interactivity. Each night is written separately, so actors can improvise their script to fit the particular bar.

Besides, the group has been writing new lyrics based on traditional melodies like lý so they depict the contemporary state of southern provinces. These compositions showcase the cultural, geographical, and social shifts today while retaining the structure and spirit of the original version. Phong showed me a paragraph lionizing VĨnh Long after the national province merger, set to the tune of ‘Lý Đêm Trăng’:

In another video, Phong gives an example of how the group interacted with the audience, via these news lyrics sung in the tune of ‘Lý Chim Xanh”:

Connecting a community of đờn ca enthusiasts

Sustaining an independent folk music troupe is not a cakewalk. Phong explains: “Where to perform and interact with the audience is the biggest struggle. Official venues don’t prioritize grassroots performers, so our activities are often spontaneous and fully independent. Besides, the older generations are still quite wary of our new approach to this old art form.”

A performance at the “Thanh Kiều” exhibition.

Despite the hurdles, the positive reception from Saigoneers is a crucial factor motivating Đờn Ca Đó Đây. Phong proudly tells me about a woman in Đồng Tháp who messaged to gift them sets of brown áo bà ba to boost the authenticity of the performances.

After sharing the clips online, another fan sent over a pack of southern checkered scarves. Not long after, someone else donated more colorful áo ba ba so the group “don’t look so monotonous.” And just like that, clothing items like áo dài, khăn đóng started arriving from across the country to keep their morale high.

Phong also met a Việt Kiều visiting from years abroad at a performance, which moved him to tears, and invited them overseas to participate in cultural exchange programs. On the other hand, right at rustic venues like in public parks, many older uncles and aunties would stop by to listen to music and tear up seeing young people being in touch with folk music.

Through every time they perform, Đờn Ca Đó Đây has learned that the true value behind their music is not dependent on how it’s performed but whether it’s performed with sincerity and if it can bring people together. Đờn ca tài tử and cải lương will continue to exist in any space in the future if that spirit is treasured and sustained.