Image Credit: Liam Tang
Smoking Fish isn’t easily explained. Even its co-owner, artist Truc Truong, is careful not to pin it down too tightly. The space sits somewhere between cafe, studio, gallery, retail store and ongoing artwork, shifting shape depending on the day, the project, or how Truong decides to use it. It’s deli berately fluid, and a little resistant to definition, but as of this month, it’s ours to enjoy and interpret.
The idea began long before coffee machines or retail shelves entered the picture. Truong traces Smoking Fish back to her third great-grandfather, Lê Văn Mưu (c.1855–1935), a spiritual leader and founder of the Long Sơn Big House in Vũng Tàu, Vietnam. At a time when it was considered radical, he created a temple that allowed multiple belief systems and altars to exist side by side.
“He created a space that brought people together across different beliefs,” Truong says. “There were no rigid rules, only love, generosity, and community.”
She has visited the Long Sơn Big House throughout her life, and describes it as sincere. Despite its history of survival and resistance – including the presence of a keel from the boat her ancestor used to escape after French forces burned his village – its known for its warmth.
“Visitors are welcomed with free tea and sweets, asked for nothing in return, and everything is run by volunteers,” she says. “That generosity has deeply shaped how I think about space, art, and hospitality.”
That spirit carries through to Smoking Fish. Truong describes it as an artist-run space that moves between studio, cafe, retail and exhibition, a melting pot of creativity.
“The offering is fluid and intuitive,” she says. “It’s less about defining what the space is, and more about how it feels to be in it.” People are invited to sit with a coffee, look around, buy a book, connect, or just be.
The name itself reflects its fluidity. Fish and water are important symbols in Vietnamese culture, often tied to survival, movement and change, and for many in the diaspora, the phrase “fish out of water” is shorthand for displacement, Truong tells us. She wanted to approach that idea with humour.
“Smoking Fish felt like a step beyond that phrase,” she says. “Not only is it unrealistic for a fish to be out of water, it’s even more absurd for it to be out in the world, smoking. It’s slightly uncomfortable, a bit funny, and hard to explain, much like the feeling of being disconnected from what sustains you.”
And for Truong, that sustaining force is art.
“When I’m away from making, researching, and thinking through art, it feels hard to breathe,” she says. The name holds that tension lightly. If people want to read into it, the meaning is there. If they don’t, that’s fine too.
Smoking Fish is co-owned by Truong and her husband Tom Burford, and the space doubles as an extension of her practice as a visual artist working across assemblage, sculpture and installation. Her work is research-driven, often engaging with personal history, everyday materials, systems of power and ritual. Combining art and hospitality wasn’t a defined goal from the outset, but it has always been embedded in how she works.
“Food and hospitality are central to Vietnamese culture, inviting people in and looking after them,” she says. “It’s what my grandparents and parents taught me.” The cafe element creates an accessibility that traditional gallery spaces can sometimes lack.
The space itself is around 100 square metres. Roughly half is open to the public as a cafe and retail area, while the other half functions as Truong’s working studio. That division isn’t fixed.
“Depending on my project load, my personal studio may be closed off while I’m making or cleared and opened as an exhibition space that people can walk through like a gallery,” she says.
She hopes people engage with Smoking Fish the way they would their local coffee spot, by returning, spending time, connecting, and noticing how it changes.
Activations are already planned, including an in-store book signing and talk with chef Thi Lê, and later in the year, an event with artist James Tylor, who will present a takeover menu focused on native ingredients and food stories. All events are open to everyone, and sit naturally within the space’s ongoing rhythm rather than as one-off spectacles.
The retail offering is curated with the same care. It changes seasonally and currently leans towards homewares and objects that support the idea of a sincere, lived-in home. There are books, incense and objects from brands like Puebco, whose use of repurposed waste materials aligns closely with Truong’s assemblage-based practice. Clothing and other categories will be introduced slowly over time.
For now, the cafe focuses on drinks and sweets, with Portuguese tarts from Saudade and selections from Mayfair Patisserie. Savoury food will arrive gradually from around February, beginning with simple lunch options and pop-up days, such as a one-day curry and rice menu. The approach, Truong says, is intentionally flexible.
Smoking Fish officially opened on January 2 and is currently trading Thursday to Saturday, with hours expected to evolve alongside its community. Like the Long Sơn Big House that inspired it, the space is less concerned with strict definition than with how people move through it. Like art, it’s best understood by spending time with it. Maybe hours. Plus, there’s coffee.
Smoking Fish
Where: 7 Carrington Street Adelaide
When: From 7:30am, Thurs to Sat
@smokingfishstudio
