Sharing with Lao Dong reporters, the female artist for the first time confided about the hidden corners of her private life that few people know, the journey to overcome the psychological crisis after retirement and the pain of dedication to the profession.
Besides cinema, the Youth Theater is considered the second home associated with almost the entire career of NSND Lan Huong. What is the significance of this place in her artistic life?
- Cinema is the place that laid the first brick for my artistic path since I was a 10-year-old girl. But the Youth Theater is like a layer of solid plaster, plastered smoothly to create a solid Lan Huong of today.
At the age of 14-15, I was only 1m53 tall, 2cm short of the standard for the entrance exam to the University of Theater and Cinema. Although I was favored because I once acted in "Hanoi Baby", I still felt exhausted. At that moment, the Youth Theater enrolled students with a height standard of 1m48 or more. I was confident because I was "excess" of 5cm! Entering the theater, I learned both dance, singing, drama and cinema. This place is truly a home I always cherish and respect.
The 80s-90s were considered the golden age of the drama stage, but the economic life of artists at that time was very hard. You and your colleagues such as NSNS Le Khanh, NSƯT Chi Trung, NSND Minh Hang... were always the "golden generation" of the stage at that time, do you remember?
- In the early 1980s, we performed without a fee, only received a bowl of pho or a bowl of porridge. By graduating in 1982, we had money for "beauty" at the end of the month, including a few kilograms of meat, two boxes of milk powder and a little sugar.
I was also married very early, and got married at the end of 1981. Life at that time was deprived in every way, and the starting salary was very low. I will always remember the times when I ran out of money, having to scavenge old newspapers in the box because my husband had a habit of reading newspapers, taking them to sell by weight to get money to buy an egg. Older siblings took advantage of business trips to buy vegetables from the province to Hanoi to resell, or collect old tires, buy Tay Nguyen coffee... A whole period of extreme hardship.
You went along with the stage with many ups and downs. What is the most memorable memory for you?
- Previously, when there were no social networks and media like now, the theater had to be divided into two theater troupes to go to rural areas to sell tickets themselves. We sent people sitting behind motorbikes holding loudspeakers to announce the performance schedule throughout the villages and communes, and then assigned each other to sell tickets.
Once, seeing a very large wedding, I went straight inside to greet the bride and groom and then invited guests to the party to buy tickets to watch the play. Everyone also happily invited me to drink wine. The late People's Artist Anh Tu knew about it and was very angry and scolded me: "I don't allow you to do that! You used to be a famous actress, ticket sales were done by the marketing and backstage departments". I explained: "Anh Tu, the troupe in the old days, the elders also had to manage it themselves, if we sell tickets, just sell them, what's wrong with that?".
Many nights of performances at the cooperative warehouse, farmers had no money, they brought corn, potatoes, rice to exchange for theater tickets. That action of the audience, of the people made us extremely touched. It was those sincere feelings that kept me in the profession.
Was there a time when difficulties piled up made you want to quit the stage profession?
- That's right, around 1986-1987, the stage fell into depression, without roles, life was tight. I once intended to move to the Television Station to work as a broadcaster. At that time, my child was too young, and often sick, suffocating and having to be rushed to the emergency room continuously, while my husband was on a business trip far away.
A turning point occurred when a French director came to stage the play. He correctly assigned me to the main role alone, but because my child was seriously ill, I could not concentrate and had to give up the role to Le Khanh. After that, the director sent me a photo with the words in French: "You are a talented person but you missed the opportunity. Artists have to try their best to get such a role". That message was like a bucket of cold water that woke me up. I regained my spirit, determined not to bury myself so that the role of "Hanoi Baby" would not become meaningless.
After a long journey with the stage, dedication. When retiring, having to leave the stage, is that a time of disappointment for you?
- On the day of holding the decision, I did not feel disappointed at all. When artist Si Tien suggested wanting to hold a farewell ceremony for me, I immediately refused: "You only retire on paper to receive your pension, you are not saying goodbye to the Theater!
After retiring, I still wrote scripts, directed physical dramas and participated in teaching. However, the COVID-19 pandemic event that occurred 2 years later greatly affected my psychology. Witnessing many colleagues, friends and celebrities suddenly leaving due to illness, I fell into depression, feeling life was so small and fragile.
I resigned from teaching at the University of Theater and Cinema for a few years to regain my spirit. It was not until the period 2023-2024, when participating in scriptwriting camps with friends, that my psychology stabilized and I became enthusiastic about my profession again.
Now, what is the definition of "happiness", "reputation" of NSND Lan Huong?
- I am a simple person, often shy and have never known how to demand rights for myself. Looking back at life, I realize that there is no absolute fairness in this world. Sometimes I am favored, sometimes others are more loved; sometimes I have money, sometimes people are richer.
The greatest fairness of the law of nature is that everyone will eventually get old and disappear, without being able to carry anything with them. My happiness now is peace, being remembered by the audience and continuing the writing work, passing on the profession to future generations.
Thank you, People's Artist Lan Huong!
