NEW YORK, NY.- The High Line today announced the selection of Tuan Andrew Nguyens The Light That Shines Through The Universe as the next High Line Plinth commission, to be installed in Spring 2026. Paying poignant homage to the 6th-century Bamiyan Buddhas of central Afghanistan, Nguyen reimagines one of the pair of ancient, colossal statues that were tragically destroyed by the Taliban in an act of iconoclasm 25 years ago. The monument takes its name from the larger of the two, which the locals had nicknamed Salsal, which means the light shines through the universe. The work is not an exact replica of Salsal, but rather an echo, intended to invoke the memory of these lost cultural treasures.
Tuan Andrew Nguyens artistic practice is rooted in memory, history, and the enduring impact of conflict and violence, particularly in his native Vietnam. In his sculptures and videos, Nguyen presents marginalized or forgotten narratives, giving voice to those whose experiences have been overlooked. Lacuna, or empty space, is a profound throughlinewhether it be empty spaces left in the landscape, in bodies, in memories, or in a culture, due to the destruction that comes from war, colonization, and environmental catastrophe. The resulting work serves as a platform for dialogue and potential repair, examining the spiritual, cultural, and physical residue left by war.
For the fifth High Line Plinth, Tuan Andrew Nguyen presents The Light That Shines Through the Universe, a monument to cultural loss and enduring spirit. This towering, 27-foot sandstone sculpture pays homage to the Bamiyan Buddhas, two 6th-century colossal statues in central Afghanistan that were tragically destroyed by the Taliban in 2001 in an act of iconoclasm. Now a UNESCO World Heritage Site, all that is left are two empty niches carved out of the mountain where the statues once stood. Prior to their destruction, the Bamiyan Buddhas held deep cultural significance in a region that was home to various religions including Zoroastrianism, Buddhism, Hinduism, even as Afghanistan shifted primarily to Islam between the 7th and 10th century CE. The two monumental statues represented a blending of cultures and the lasting impact of the Silk Road economy, as the valley served as an influential meeting point in Central Asia, at the intersection of trade routes from China, India, and Persia.
The works title directly references the affectionate nickname local communities used for the larger Buddha: Salsal, which translates to the light shines through the universe. Nguyens Plinth commission is not an exact replica of Salsal, but rather an echo, intended to invoke the memory of these lost cultural treasures. In this new context, the name poetically underscores how the original statues have transcended their physical destruction to become a steadfast symbol of life, healing, and peace.
Reincarnation is a recurring motif in Nguyens work, presented as a spiritual idea and a potent political metaphor. Inherent in the circular pattern of reincarnation is the potential that we all could be interconnected through past or future lives. Through this concept, the artist explores how past injustices persist and manifest in contemporary life, while also offering speculative space to imagine futures for the people, places, or things that were destroyed or forever changed by conflict. By blurring the lines between documentary and fiction, and past and future, Nguyen offers reincarnation as a framework for revisiting history and its many tributaries.
Nguyens use of material similarly speaks to themes of loss and reincarnation. In particular, the artist looks to the legacy of the Vietnam War (1955 1975) and the continued violence and trauma that impact local communities to this day. Widely considered to be the largest aerial bombardment in human history, the Vietnam War left the country littered with literal ticking time bombs, unexploded ordnance (UXO)bombs, grenades, and artillery shells that failed to detonate. Nguyen takes these symbols of violence, laden with history, melts them down, and reshapes them into expressions of healing, resilience, and hope. For The Light That Shines Through the Universe, the artist continues this form of alchemy by reimagining the Buddhas hands, lost after centuries of attempted iconoclastic attacks, long before the statues were fully destroyed. Cast from melted-down brass artillery shells and positioned into mudras, or ritual gestures that signify fearlessness and compassion, the gleaming hands become symbols of healing and empathy. This prosthetic-like addition also calls to mind limb loss and the continued humanitarian crisis enacted by lingering landmines and UXO in Vietnam. By leaving a noticeable gap between the prosthetics and the body, Nguyen poetically suggests that while some damage may be irreparable, there is still hope and potential to heal the land, the spirit, and the people that have experienced tremendous destruction.
The Light That Shines Through the Universe addresses the necessity of remembrance and art as counterforces to political extremism and nihilism. Nguyen proposes a potent critique of iconoclasm and the erasure of diverse cultural identities as a weapon of war and political control. Today, as we continue to grapple with a push towards polarizing communities and the suppression of dissenting histories, The Light That Shines Through the Universe is particularly poignant. Towering over 10th Avenue, this resurrected and reimagined figure serves as a powerful reminder that memory and our shared humanity are the best antidote against those who seek to break and scatter the human spirit.