Remembrances of Pipo Nguyen-Duy

As Pipo’s long-time colleague, I will remember many Pipos: the talented artist, dedicated teacher, dapper dresser, chain smoker, the bellowing voice with Poppy in the hallway, and someone who lived and worked on his own terms. The last time I saw him was at Kim’s grocery a few weeks ago. He gave me a quick nod and a “Heey,” high-fived Lewis, called out to Ms. Kim, and then he was off. This casual exchange at Kim’s is fitting, because in the makeshift Oberlin Asian mafia of my imagination where Ms. Kim is the Don who feeds and takes care of the community, Pipo was another key player. He was the cool, older Asian colleague who early in my time here convinced me to attend an unforgettable artist’s talk by Jun Nguyen-Hatsushiba even though I was so sleep-deprived from writing lectures I could barely keep my eyes open (“Bonnie,” he said insistently, “his medium is water!”), and he sent many students and advisees, especially ones with Asian backgrounds, to my classes. More recently, he showed up at a talk and dinner (organized by Elka Lee-Shapiro, OC’18) with Margo Machida, one of the few scholars of their generation who published on Asian American art. It turned out they knew each other from New York decades ago. Maybe because Pipo had such diverse, even difficult, life experiences, he was clear but never apologetic about his (Asian American) identity as an artist and as a multi-faceted person. He just was. I did not know Phong, but it’s clear she similarly nurtured students far from home in her own way, and her joy with Pipo was palpable in the videos they made. As I try to process his absence and to make sense of many memories collapsing in time/space, I will remember the unspoken support he extended to younger artists and colleagues alongside the care he gave to his students. May their souls and their families find peace.

— Bonnie Cheng

When I arrived in Oberlin in 1998 for freshman year, Pipo had just started teaching and was already a legend. Everyone wanted to take his class - it was so hard to get in that you had to somehow track him down and seek his approval in person. I sought him out, and when I met him, I could immediately see why he already had a legendary reputation - he was unlike any teacher I had ever had - magnetic, honest, frank, empathetic, and real. He looked at my high school portfolio and within minutes declared that I had a spot. After taking and loving a few of his classes, he invited me to continue with advanced photo, which I turned down to free up time in my schedule to take video. He was mad at me, but I took it as a compliment - that he saw something in me and did want me to give something up prematurely. I am grateful to own his "Lotus Pond" photograph, which hangs in our bedroom. The photograph always felt like both death and life in the same image - but also peace. Rest easy, Pipo. I love you and am devastated that our paths will never cross again in this earthly world. 

— Aleigh Lewis '02

Pipo was my friend, mentor, and guide. He helped me navigate the transition from being fully supported by my family in high school to becoming quasi-independent in college, and was foundational in shaping my path as an artist and my interest in art therapy. He made art-making feel safe, freeing, and sweetly rebellious. I’m learning that so many of those he taught have gone on to become artists themselves—a testament to the lasting imprint he left.

Pipo was always so genuinely excited about my little one, and his comments so often reflected the deep love he had for his own children. I find myself imagining the next time he’d be in LA and finally get to meet us, only for my mind to wander back to Oberlin—to the dance parties, his studio, and all those memories that feel both so distant and so close.

Grief comes in waves: tears while cooking, listening to music, or in the most ordinary moments, then disappearing just as suddenly. It’s an overwhelming mix of nostalgia, the ache of what might have been, and the loss of a dear friend.

And today, I find myself feeling incredibly lucky for the full-circle nature of it all. Once again, Pipo is my friend, mentor, and guide, helping me transition more gently into whatever world exists out there in the ethers. Just as he helped make the transition to college feel less frightening, somehow the next world feels a little less scary, too. What a gift to have had someone like him accompany us through life’s thresholds.

— kate rosenberg '05

Pipo's intro class was like a warm embrace. You see it in all the testimonies: he brought you in, he fostered a community, respected you as an adult and an artist and really saw you.

I ended up gravitating more towards cinema but we saw each other quite regularly since the editing lab and the then-newly opened photo lab were opposite each other.

One night I was really losing it editing my thesis film project. I started running up and down the corridor to let off steam. I was being really noisy. It turns out Pipo was in the photo lab. He came out with a concerned look on his face. He took the time to ask how I was doing, but didn't let me off the hook. He called me out with kindness.

He knew how to guide you, and get you to reflect over and own your own decisions. I now work with writers developing projects and I'm sure some -- perhaps much -- of what I do is an attempt to emulate Pipo.

I am really saddened by this news.

— Nayeem Mahbub '07

I majored in art history at Oberlin and happened into Pipo’s classroom the fall semester of my junior year to fulfill the studio course requirement. Lacking confidence in my ability to translate a deep appreciation for art into a hands-on practice, I registered for his intro B&W course hoping for an easy semester, a break from long readings and papers. I could not have been more off-base, and for that, I am endlessly grateful. That semester easily made my entire Oberlin experience; it challenged me in ways I didn’t think possible and brought my attention to pieces of myself I didn’t know were there.

On the first day of class that fall, I was still hoping to be bumped from the waitlist and was hyperaware of my lack of experience in photography. I struggled through the first few technical-heavy lessons on aperture etc., embarrassed that I couldn’t grasp the concepts. One morning, there was an important demo and I arrived to class twenty minutes late. Pipo chewed me out in front of the whole class—I had never been so called out by a teacher and feared I’d screwed up the chance to do well in his class. Again, I was proven wrong.

Despite his initial tough love, Pipo continued to show up for me and make sure I knew that I mattered as his student. In just a few weeks, a class that I didn’t think I’d do very well in turned into the only thing I felt like doing at all. Waking up for 9 AM class felt easy, even when I was walking home from the lab at 1:00 or 2:00 am the night before. I felt more energized and motivated than I have ever been in school. While he’d still crack jokes when I walked into class last and still groggy from sleep, his generosity let me know that he didn’t judge me for my flaws. When I couldn’t figure out how to get a rented flash to cooperate with my camera over fall break, he pointed me to Adorama and offered to pay a personal visit to my family’s apartment to walk me through setting it up. When I had to miss art walk for a family emergency, he helped me get a hang my work early so I could make my flight. These are just a few small examples among the countless ways he showed up for every student that walked into his lab. I am well aware that I am no exception— I am just one in hundreds of students who he made feel seen, a true testament to his devotion and open-heartedness as an educator.

I only took two classes with Pipo and wish I had gotten the chance to know him before junior year. However, I’m immensely grateful for the four semesters I had in his orbit. He created a space where all of his students could discover and explore and push ourselves creatively. He guided us on deeply personal projects and fostered an environment where we could talk for hours as a class about each others’ work. I found a passion for photography in his classes that influenced the academic work I was most proud of. Pipo was not just teaching photography, he was teaching us to be artists and to find the life and joy in creating—to see art as a invigorating force that lives within all of us and serves to connect, revealing truths about living. He taught us to stay true to our vision and worry about technicalities later. He addressed us as peers, bringing us into his home and selflessly sharing stories, food, perfume, film, music, so much art and so much love.

He always made fun of me for my long artist’s statements, saying he didn’t realize he was teaching a creative writing seminar, and I know he would crack a similar joke if he could see how much I’ve written here. So I’ll keep it brief in closing: Pipo, thank you.

— Anna Holshouser-Belden '24

Pipo was a unique professor who was able to thread the needle between being funny and supportive while at the same time holding his students to the highest standards. His art was inspiring, and as a true role model he invited students to participate in the process. I will never forget Pipo taking our entire 4x5 class to the arboretum and posing in the dappled light of the forest. He treated his students as family. I will always appreciate his kindness. I feel incredibly honored to have worked with him. His memory will forever remain in my heart.

— Coriana Close '06

I took 2 classes with Pipo, but he stayed a friend afterwards. He always stopped whatever he was doing to check on me and ask how I was doing.  I remember his warm smile and goofy comments. I appreciate that he let me experiment with photography and multimedia collages, and will always remember building my first camera in his class. The skills he taught me are ones I will carry with me throughout my life, just as I will always carry his memory.

— Rand Zalzala '16

I haven't had any class with Professor Pipo before. However, In that Monday afternoon, I came across him in the Art building for asking the other professor's office. At that time, I had no idea who he was and even thought he was just a worker in the campus, instead of a professor. In that moment, he generously answered my question and even guided me to the other art building until we successfully headed to the office. I felt like my impression of Professor Pipo will just end at there, in that specific scene, where he smiled at me, guided with me, and greeted me as a passenger in the campus. 

— Sia Wang '29

Pipo was my colleague and friend. He was always so positive--he radiated optimism. He lived around the corner from me so my family often saw him out walking his dog or riding his bike, and I saw him at work too. He was such a warm and friendly person. And of course he was an immensely talented artist. I loved seeing his photographs in the most recent faculty exhibition. Sadly, I didn't get a chance to tell him how much I loved them. There are so many places I think of Pipo as I walk around Oberlin--places where I saw him and he called out "hi" in his friendly way. I am so lucky to have known Pipo. What an inspiring person he was.

— Christina Neilson

I did not work directly with Pipo, but he was an important mentor to friends of mine, and was there for me during a crucial emergency, sharing his attentive care and humor in right proportions.

During my senior year at Oberlin, I experienced a freak accident and major fall, and Pipo was the person who came running to find and care for me- removing other potential dangers from the site, calling the ambulance, keeping me steady and contacting my friends.  The next day when I was thankfully cleared to walk very slowly with a cane he joked with appreciation that I must be a witch, because I was blown off a building, and walking the next day.

— Lee Fogel '07

I knew Pipo when he was in graduate school at the University of New Mexico. I selected his photo for the exhibition, "Peace Art Show: Art from the Birthplace of the Atomic Bomb." The exhibition featured the artwork of 19 New Mexico artists and commemorated the 50th Anniversary (1995) of the first detonation of the atomic bomb at Trinity Site, New Mexico on July 16, 1945. Three weeks later Hiroshima was vaporized. The exhibition toured the New Mexico cities of Los Alamos, Santa Fe, and Albuquerque, and the Japanese cities of Hiroshima, Nagasaki, and Tokyo. I gave Pipo's photograph to the University Art Museum, International Christian University in Tokyo, without his permission, and he later thanked me very graciously.

— Thomas Powell

I think one of the most profound ways to connect with another person is to be curious about them - to be interested in them as they are, and not in how you expect them or want them to be. In other words, it’s seeing people and reciprocally being seen. This weekend, I attended the ordination of one of my metamours as a UU minister, and the ceremony included many guest speakers who spoke about the faith specifically through the lens of my metamour’s experience. They told me afterwards that it was mortifying to be so deeply witnessed, but they also felt deeply loved by it.

Pipo was someone who taught me by example to do this. Photography is the practice of seeing, after all. Like so many young adults in college, when I knew him I was going through a process of self-discovery: peeling away layers of performative behavior, figuring out who I was, and figuring out what I wanted to do. He supported me with his curiosity. He encouraged me to explore through photography.

I started taking photo classes in my fourth year as a double degree student. I had always been interested in art, but I had resisted taking formal classes because I was afraid it would ruin the magic for me. I was afraid having to work would make art a chore. I took Pipo’s intro class, and it changed everything. He showed me how the work can be a means of self discovery, of growth, of contribution to a greater collective conversation.

I was dealing with what felt like seismic topics at the time. I was situating my personal experience as a young trans person in a greater cultural context, and trying to find ways for my work to speak to people who weren’t necessarily also trans - to call gender itself into question, and to resonate with subconscious empathy. One of Pipo’s great themes in his work was a person - often himself - occupying liminal spaces of identity. He dealt with gender as well as transnational identity and racialized power structures.

One of my proudest moments was when he told me, at my senior show, that before, he was my teacher, but now we had become colleagues.

We had a mentor/mentee relationship. A professor/student relationship. I never really figured out how to extend our relationship into a friendship post-graduation, but I sorely wish I had. I love him, and I wish I had been able to adequately convey to him how much he meant in my life. I wish I had been able to spend time with him after I calmed down a bit from the maelstrom of self-discovery and had more space for curiosity and being on the seeing side of the seeing/being seen duality. I want him to know that he modeled for me how to see and be curious, and this lesson has shaped my whole adult life. I’m sending my deepest condolences to all who loved him, and especially the family and chosen family he left behind.

— Melsen Carlsburg (Carlsen) '06

I am sitting with a friend in Ashland, Oregon, discussing Oberlin after my first year. It is summer, and he tells me that someone from our hometown is a professor there. We look at his faculty page together.

Years later, in the fall, I am walking through Mudd and stop near a bulletin board. On it, there a photo of the mountain view that I know so well. It is from his East of Eden series. The photo’s title is Mountain Fire.

It is the spring, and we are in the darkroom. Pipo is telling us about proper photo lab etiquette. “Always turn off the timers,” he says! He has a few other rules, but other than that, we are free to do whatever we want. Pipo lets us create.

It is the summer again, and I am walking Poppy through Tappan. Pipo and Phong are away for a long weekend. They have offered me their apartment to stay in, their bed for me to sleep in, and their food to eat. That night, Poppy and I sit together for dinner. “Roast chix,” the tupperware container says.

It is the fall again, and Pipo is showing us how to make perfume. He has taken us into his world. My classmates and I mix scents while he tells us the stories of his life. I feel lucky to be there.

It is my last spring. I am in their apartment taking orders for Xôi. Phong cooks busily beside me as requests come in. I do not know how to speak Vietnamese with her, and we laugh together at my clumsy attempts to communicate the specifics of someone’s order. She does not let me leave at the end of the night before serving me a steaming bowl of pho.

It is the summer after graduation. I am back in Oregon, and I send Pipo a photo of a sun-strewn river. It is a river that we have both swum in. “Dangggggggg,” he says. “That s Eden right there.”

Thank you, Pipo, for your open heart, your generosity, and your incredible spirit. Thank you for your honesty, your encouragement, and your humor.

You were one-of-a-kind.

I will always think of you.

— sequoia jacobson '24

Every week I would look forward to going to Pipo and Phong’s home to pick up a warm bowl of their famous pho. I was always greeted with the brightest smile from Pipo. I never had him as a professor, but he always remembered my name. This made the biggest impact on me and every time a family member or friend from home would ask me one of my favorite parts about Oberlin, I always mentioned them. They were the kindest people on campus and you always felt the love they had for everyone at Oberlin.

— Leila Burki

Pipo called me out once in a crit because of a lazy response to his assignment. I admitted I had pulled it together last-minute because I was embarrassed by my first attempt and how cringe it was. Pipo looked at the first prints and told me the ideas meant more and he could see what I was trying to do. It was some work dealing with gender and it was very raw for me to share. This moment stayed with me in the decades since. Pipo knew my work well enough to see when I was faking it, and he was much more interested in the work that said something about who I was. I did not realize until much later that he could see me even before I could see myself. His ability to see others was a true gift - as in a talent and also a precious thing bestowed. I consider him as one of my fairy godmothers because he helped me become the full-color version of myself.

Once in the middle of January, when few students were on campus, he wanted to make a photograph of himself wearing a kimono and standing on lake Erie. But he had no car. I drove him there and we went out on the ice together and I helped him set up his 8x10 camera on a tripod. It was miserably cold and damp. We listened to my mix tape on the way there and back, and he teased me for the utter lack of musical coherence in it. I wanted him to think I was cool, and I had no idea a mix tape could or should be coherent. But I felt the affection from him and I was happy.

I’m heartbroken. I love you Pipo, I’m so lucky to have been among the many lives you touched and changed.

— Luc Maker '03

Dear Pipo,

The first time I met you at the fair in front of Mudd, you asked me, "Con có phải người Việt Nam không", and I kept calling you "Chú" over and over. You just smiled and corrected me. At that time, you were Professor Pipo, and I was just a 22-year-old student starting college all over again in a faraway place.

The second time I met you was at the VSA party, where you brought Cô Phong along. If I remember correctly, you smiled and shook your head, saying that you two were ironic, one coming from the South and the other born in the North. And at that moment, I found that so beautiful. We always reach out toward freedom, trying to break free from all chains and differences, yet prejudices and divisions have always been in our blood. And yet, a love still blossomed, and just like that, North and South were simply the two ends of the same country's shape.

The third time I met you was right after I finished my recital with Athena Deng, a complex mix of emotions upon completing my first piece for prepared piano while my grandfather was gravely ill. You came with Poppy and said my music was truly beautiful. And at that moment, I also looked into my own soul and found myself truly beautiful.

The fourth time I met you and Cô was at Chúc An's recital. At that time, Cô Phong had lovingly shaped every single chocolate pop, perhaps seeing in them the quiet echo of her own son's dreams, so every detail felt so tender. Chúc An couldn't even bring herself to eat them for three whole weeks. Cô was always that gentle.

The last time I met you was when I dropped by your house to take care of Poppy. You kept repeating that you were going to meet Cô in Saigon and return together with her, and you told me to make myself completely at home. And I truly felt like it was home. Walking together with Poppy every morning, sitting and working right beside your photo series. It seems that the more you understand a person's way of life, the more you understand their art. Or perhaps, they are one and the same. You still called and asked in our Hue accent, our hometown, "Con có muốn mua chi hông?", like an adult asking a child if they want a souvenir when coming back.

On October 28th, we were still messaging each other, and you said you were writing a recommendation letter for my project, and in just a fleeting moment, it vanished before I could even grasp it. Perhaps when the light breaks in too suddenly, it only exposes how fragile we are in the face of loss, leaving us with nothing left to hold, and the roll of film is burned to ash.

I think in life, there are many kinds of teachers: the professional kind in school who teaches us important things in class, the kind who teaches us other things in a different world, and the kind who cares for us like family. And to me, you both were all of those things.

Goodbye, Thầy Cô. May your souls find their way back home.

— Võ Hà Hạnh Nhân '28

Thầy Pipo and Cô Phong made Oberlin feel like home. Thầy and I spent a lot of time yapping away about our side quests, as he had many in his life and had much wisdom to share. Being the overthinker that I am, especially during the time of grad school apps, Thầy would always remind me “con ơi, không có stress about it too much” with a big smile on his face. He was the definition of adding fun and whimsy into your life. I never took a class but was lucky enough to show him my film photos and receive his insightful feedback, moreover he taught me how to tell stories through film. Cô Phong was so delightful and her delicious food transcended me to home. When they opened Xôi, Cô and Thầy were very generous in sneaking in extra food or covering for some of my favorite childhood dishes. I once mentioned how I missed eating bánh mì xíu mại and the next week Cô put it on the menu. No amount of words will ever encapsulate the impact they had on my undergraduate experience.

We last wished each other chúc mừng năm mới. It breaks my heart they didn’t get to live life to the very end. I am eternally grateful for having shared my time with them at Oberlin. Forever best-dressed, may their souls rest in peace.

— Andrea Nguyen '24

My time with Pipo as a formal instructor was regrettably limited. But in that time, he was an important example to me in the beauty of making a life as an artist. He seemed to have the formula down: making good work, making good friends, making good food.

I was always impressed by the close-knit photo community he gathered around him from my peers. Then I remember at commencement seeing him greet cohort after cohort of returning graduates with the same level of intimacy, and had the vertiginous realization of how vast his community really was. He had a seemingly limitless capacity to hold space and encouragement for an ever-expanding group of young people. What a remarkable legacy.

Pipo was as funny and sharp as he was generous. On the one day in Senior Studio devoted to professional development, he concluded with “but seriously guys, the best way to be an artist is marry rich”.

A few years ago I was delighted to run into him on the lower east side. It’s a sadder and meaner world that no longer holds any chance encounters with Pipo in it.

— Claire Lachow '11

Professor Pipo was a dazzling and inspiring figure. His photography project "Hotel Window" was my first exposure to Vietnamese site-specific urban cultural photography. I remember seeing "Blue models w Flash" from the project for the first time at his condo, and exclaiming to him "Oh my god, this is genius!" Ever since then, I have had a lasting fascination with images that reminds me of "Hotel Window."

When I got my fulltime job after graduating from Oberlin, Pipo rented a truck and drove 4 hours so he could help me move into my new apartment. I remember his exhausted posture after driving for so long, his smile and dismissive hand gesture after I offered to pay for his meal. He was kind, generous, inspiring, and graceful.

Pipo, thank you for being a support pillar, an inspiring artist and a kind heart. I still remember your laughter and how you landed your glasses on top of your head. I still remember the photography art books you had on your coffee table.

— YM '24

Pipo welcomed me wholeheartedly into the photo studio, I was not taking any of his classes. When I would walk in, he would ask to see my ceramic and sculpture work. He would tsk and look away, turning back with the biggest smile on his face and tell me that he wanted to introduce me to some of his artist friends. The first time he said this to me I had no idea what he saw in me, as time went on and he continued to feed my ego I realized he truly wanted me to succeed. I realized he would pull all his punches, and put in way too much time for me to get recognition. Pipo and I were supposed to have dinner together soon, I miss him dearly. There is no doubt this amazing man's creativity will impact every students that walks this campus.

— Lucia Abarno

Pipo was my advisor all four years of school, my professor, my mentor, my father figure at school, my friend. His way of teaching was collaborative and radically inclusive, centered around creating a community of mutual respect in the photo lab, and in critiques. He counted us as his peers, made classes feel collaborative, and never competitive, and treated us as every bit an artist as he was. He pushed us to understand how our images existed in an art historical perspective, and the fundamental responsibility we have to justify every aspect of the images we make.

He is the voice in my head when I am deciding whether a project is worth pursuing, when I want images to reach beyond the present and into the past and into the future.

More than any of this though, he was my family in the most genuine way possible. And he was the same with every other person in his orbit, and had been the same to so many generations of students. He took our cohorts out for meals, let us camp in his backyard when we visited school, organized trips and lunches and dinner parties, and movie nights. He slept on my couch after college from time to time when life brought him to New York.

For every bit of professionalism and integrity he expected of us in the photo lab, he exuded a monumental silliness, a biting humor that felt mischievous and inclusive even when it was at your expense.

He was constantly banning and unbanning me from using certain tools in the lab, in an effort to curb my penchant for leaving a mess in my wake. Very fair.

In every way possible, he led by example. He toiled constantly on his own photo projects, and sought our critiques and support in making them. He met our friends and our family members and treated them with the same kindness and humor and openness he showed us. He lived for a rich life, deeply worth living, learning new skills and taking on niche hobbies, dressing incredibly well, making and eating good food, keeping in touch with people. He spoke about his former students with the pride of a parent, and introduced us to them so they could hire us for jobs in the fields we wanted to be in. He was an engine of community building, enfolding his life and our world with layers and layers of creative, kind people.

I write these words knowing they are a reflection of countless other words, written, spoken, and felt by hundreds of others. I know that the outsize impact he had on who I am as an artist and a friend is mirrored in the hearts of so many.

The last time he stayed with me, he asked me to shoot a birthday portrait, and to document his burgeoning commitment to tattoos. We share a tattoo of the 4x5 code notch for Fuji Pro 160s, a favorite film of ours which was discontinued my senior year of college. The notch on 4x5 sheets is used to identify different types of film when loading them in darkness. What was once a simple reminder of my love of photography and the large format camera I used throughout college is now a little monument; this small marker reflects the teachings of this huge person, and the ways they are etched onto my identity, and how when I feel lost or at sea, I can feel for the ways this person affected me, and find my way through the darkness.

— Gregory Wikstrom '12

I came to Oberlin knowing I wanted to study photography, and I took as many classes with Pipo as I could. I could not have asked for a better teacher and mentor. When I think back to those times, what I remember most is the community that formed around him and what a fertile environment that was for learning, creativity and friendship. 

In my Intro to Black & White class, there were some of us who had already been studying photography for years and some who were new to the medium. Pipo met each of us where we were and managed to give us what we needed to progress while still creating a cohesive group with a sense of unity and belonging. I remember him for his kindness and always being quick to smile and laugh. 

Pipo is the person who taught me what it really means to critique: to see and be curious, then to be thoughtful, generous, vulnerable, and honest. The experiences I had in the domes and the new labs have fueled my career, my creativity, and even my sense of self. 

I am so grateful to have known Pipo and to have been in his orbit. 

Thank you, Pipo!

— Alex Arnold '07

Pipo was an amazing professor, human and artist. He had a huge impact on my life and my trajectory through his teaching, mentorship, and his artistry. He pushed his students to do excellent work but also nurtured and encouraged. I remember in my first photography class, he would astutely talk about why one of my photos didn’t work-- composition was wrong--but then pull another one off the drying rack and exclaim why this one was the better choice. I learned so much from him in that first semester. I became a photography teacher myself, and I still use a few assignments he gave me in my own teaching, they were that good. 

The last time I saw him, a few months ago, he had a gathering of former students, friends, and current students in his lovely home. He did this often, hosting students, socializing and helping to create a vital community. He gave us a tour of the updated photo area, very proud of all the work they’d put into the state of the art space. He did it all for the students, I know.

I can’t imagine Oberlin without him. The world also lost a supreme artist—his photographs are inspiring. His work hangs on the wall of my living room, one of my prized possesions. I know he impacted so many students’ lives, and we will do our best to carry on his legacy. 

I’m thankful I got to know Pipo, may he rest in peace. He will be profoundly missed.

— Areca Roe '01

Pipo forever and ever, in his work, in the work and career of his students who he nurtured and supported so lovingly, in his sartorial flair which was unmatched, and in his spark which turned every interaction with him into the high point of my day. Years before I came to Oberlin to be a curator at the college's museum, I was introduced to Pipo's work through his New York gallery. I was first drawn in by his cyanotypes. I have since come to know so many professional artists who credit him with putting them on their path. He was also one of my most supportive colleagues, though long sweat sessions in the sauna to sitting at his kitchen table having artfully-steeped green tea, he cared deeply about my gains in the gym, my career aspirations, and my mental health and happiness in Oberlin. One aspect of his work that I will always remember is how fearlessly he addressed masculinity, in all its manifestations, and in a way that for the first time made me realize how flexible and malleable that category can be. His work with scent and perfume was also one of the most incredible outlets for his creativity, the way he'd talk about making a scent that conjured a 1920s Parisian bar, and the way I always could sniff out if he'd recently been in the room. Pipo, I promise not to take myself too seriously. Your infectious smile and laugh will be with me forever.

— Sam Adams

Pipo was one of the most influential parts of my Oberlin experience, and went on to become one of the most inspiring people in my life. I know I am far from alone in feeling that way.

He was the professor you dreamed of having in college. The kind of professor who would invite his students over for dinner parties, bring everyone together, and make you feel like you belonged to something bigger than a classroom. I had never felt so challenged, supported, or believed in. He made everyone want to try new things, push ourselves, and see what we were capable of. Every semester, his photography class became its own little family. He made you believe in yourself, sometimes before you knew how to do that on your own.

Pipo’s love and support didn’t end when you graduated. He would call, text, check in, and remind you how proud he was of you. No matter how much time had passed or how far away we were, he remained a mentor, a friend, and one of my biggest supporters.

I still have the little perfume vials he gave me sitting in a box I never quite unpacked after leaving Oberlin. They were from a day he took our class on a tour of his work. I will miss his encouragement, his humor, his advice, his texts, his incredible food, and all the little ways he made us feel really special.

I think about all the students who will come through Oberlin and never get to experience what we did, and it breaks my heart. Oberlin will never be the same without Pipo and his beloved wife, Phong.

Pipo loved life, and the community he leaves behind is a testament to that. He built so many friendships and changed so many lives. We are some of the luckiest people to have known and loved him. I’m heartbroken that we won’t get to speak again, but I know that the love he poured into his students, his friendships, and his community will outlive him.

Pipo was our biggest cheerleader. We will spend the rest of our lives cheering him on.

May Pipo and Phong rest in peace. We love you, and we will miss you forever.

— Meadow Wielander '25

While I didn't have the opportunity to know Pipo for a very long time, the little time I spent with him was enough to see the influence and impact he had. Meeting him earlier this year I saw how passionate he was about not only his own world of photography, but the creative interests and directions of his students. Walking in the halls I saw how he connected with his students, talking as if they were the closest of friends.

While we talked, after hours in the art building, he listened to what I loved to create, why I made art, and where I wanted to take it. He listened so intently even though he never met me before and asked such interesting and engaging questions, genuinely curious about what I had to say. He made it feel like we were longtime friends who were just catching up and made me feel so comfortable even though I was nervous. He not only asked about my art but about myself as well, genuinely interested in who I was as a person and who I wanted to be.

Pipo had an amazing skill in being able to make you feel seen, when you spent time with him you could tell that he really cared about the moments you spent together. His kind, energetic but calm, inquisitive, and overly imaginative mind was who made him who he was and he always put that true version of himself forward. He was a fantastic mentor and knew how to guide you where you needed to go; encouraging you when you needed it and providing great advice when needed.

I wish I had the opportunity to take a class with you as I know you would've left a lasting impact on me, but as you have left us I hope you and your beautiful wife are able to find peace and happiness together in the life that comes next. Your memory will continue to live on not only through your work, but also through the beautiful impact and memories that you created with all that had the great pleasure of knowing you. To the family, I am so sorry for your loss and hope you are able to find some solace in knowing how loved and influential Pipo was to those who knew him.

— Chalanta Baldeo

I took an introductory black-and-white photography class with Pipo during my senior year at Oberlin. I was unsure of what I wanted to do with my life, finishing college with majors I wasn't particularly excited about, only to discover in my final year with Pipo a passion for the arts.

Pipo was incredibly generous with his time, his knowledge, and his mentorship. I remember going to his house for critiques, where he'd make us scrambled eggs and some of the best coffee I'd ever tasted. When I asked him about it, he laughed and told me it was just from Trader Joe's. Somehow, though, he made it better.

Those critiques taught me so much more than photography. Pipo showed us how to be kind with feedback, how to be curious about someone's intentions before offering our opinions, how to celebrate a mistake that turned into something wonderful, and how to help someone make their work better without diminishing what they'd already created.

I remember once borrowing a book he'd shared with me, a gift from a friend that was special to him. Somehow, the cover got bent in my backpack. I sheepishly returned it and apologized, feeling terrible about damaging something meaningful to him. He just smiled and said nothing. It was such a small moment, but I've never forgotten his grace.

I came into Pipo's class unsure of my direction and left with something much more lasting than an appreciation for photography. He showed me what it meant to be generous with knowledge, to nurture creativity in others, and to approach art with curiosity and kindness.

I've spent much of my life since then working with and mentoring other creative people, and I still find myself practicing the lessons he taught me all those years ago. I'm deeply grateful for the time I had with him.

Thank you, Pipo.

— Brandon Ramos '06

Pipo was my intro to photography professor and sparked my love of photography and film. He taught me how to find beauty in everyday life. His energy was infectious and had a beautiful spirit.

— Gailyn Gabriel '18

I never met Pipo personally, but he was a light and pilar for so many in this community. After each class, friends would gleefully share a new anecdote about something funny or profound he said or did. I could feel his love and support bolstering the arts, even from a distance. I've never known a professor so dedicated to his students holistically, as both a mentor, teacher, and friend.

— Lucy

The last time I was in Oberlin, Pipo invited me over to meet his sweet dog Poppy and I immediately claimed her as my own. Pipo was good natured about it and told me I should come stay any time and I suggested she come stay with me in NY if he needed to travel without her.  (When I was in grad school he used to give me the hotel stipend Oberlin provided for his NYC trips and I'd vacate my place for him and his family and stay on the floor at my mom's.)

He made me coffee and he told me about Phong - who was away at the time- and he was clearly so happy,  and so proud of her.  We went upstairs and brought down all of his homemade perfumes for me to test at his kitchen counter.  We talked about more things than I can easily discuss with most people, but that was Pipo,- you didn't notice how you'd expressed yourself in a new way until you took a look back. It was the same in class (I was in some of  the first classes he taught at Oberlin); he saw you saying something with your work that you didn't even realize and then he helped you say more., with clarity.

And he told the best stories about his life. When our advanced photo class was planning refreshments for our exhibition's opening reception, I remember him telling us "if this was an East Village art show in the 80s there'd  just be a big bowl of eggs in the middle of the room." No, not eggs. We had all misheard him, picturing a bowl of hard boiled eggs sitting in the middle of Fisher.  I really hope I'm not the only one to remember this.

There are a few magic people in one's life- they may be constants or they may just be someone who shows up here and there. Whatever the dynamic, their appearance is always welcome and it feels like luck on both sides.  Pipo, we were so lucky to have you, and thank you for always making it clear that you felt lucky to have us too.

— Elnie Gillers '00

Mentor/ friend / teacher/ family : Pipo was all of these things to so many of us … He cooked us dinner , he got us jobs.  

One summer when I didn’t have enough money to live and work in NYC my college boyfriend and I house sat for him in Oregon / Justine Kurland called me the next day “I hear you’re a friend of Pipo, what’s going on?”

He told us we were artists , to take ourselves seriously: dress up for critique , make a book , archive your negatives …”life is short , processing just feels long.”

When I quit photo to find a new medium I thought he would be angry.  Instead he bought me a gas mask “ I just added 15 years to your life. Stay strong “ / He showed up at my house to help me clean, so my parents wouldn’t see it a mess on their visit - a vacuum in hand “Amy, come on”

And when I won grant money he sent me and my friend Meena backpacking through Vietnam : he emailed us often , checked in , made us “stay healthy, keep going ,stay strong”.

In the past few days I have received messages and phone calls from countless Oberlin photo alum.   I have heard story, after story, after story, almost exactly like my own.

The most beautiful thing about Pipo is that I am not special - I am not his favorite student - I am not unique - and honestly , what he taught me is ,as an artist : I am not alone.

Keep making Pipo / Rest in power dear one / I know you are somewhere on the back of a motorcycle - extra film in all your pockets - a ping pong paddle in your pack and the directions to a pho spot in Cleveland for our next family night out.  You are lighting an American Spirit cigarette with a blow torch and re-adjusting your rings …

We love you and have all been forever changed by your full and open heart.

— Amy Giovanna Rinaldi  '09

Pipo joined the faculty during my third year at Oberlin. During my last two years at Oberlin, I was lucky enough to get a spot in one of Pipo’s classes, and it remains one of my best memories of my time there. One of the first things he taught us was how to wind film in the dark, which took a lot of practice to achieve basic competence. Pipo taught this skill - any many other technical darkroom practices - with the same passion and reverence that he brought to lectures about narrative and concept. I am now a Professor in an art department at a small college, and I try to teach craft with the same enthusiasm and reverence.

Pipo was amazing at connecting with students - and connecting them with each other - while holding us to high standards. His critiques were direct and could be seen as harsh by an outsider, but if you were his student, you knew that the feedback was delivered from a place of love and of being completely committed to his students’ creative growth.

During my semester in Pipo’s class, a few students who had recently returned from studying abroad in Viet Nam mentioned that they were cooking Phở for our co-op’s upcoming ‘special meal’. When Pipo heard this and told them he’d love to go, they were flattered and a little panicked. Pipo showed up to dinner, enthusiastically praised the students for their efforts, and lingered in our less-than-tidy dining room after the last dish had been taken to the Hobart. I am so sad for Pipo’s students, past and present, his family, and his colleagues. I hope that the connections that he helped foster at Oberlin have and will continue to be a comfort.

— Kate Renner '00

Please forgive my grammar--I only graduated from Oberlin because Pipo shoved me along.

Pipo and I would go to lunch. I would drive so he could backseat drive--tell me the directions, when to slow down. We'd go to the diner in Wellington. "They know me here." And of course, they did. Because this wasn't his first rodeo showing off to everyone involved - how much he loved life. He would smile so big at the waitress and she would smile just as big back. He'd ask for extra mayo for the french fries. He loved sauce. He taught me to make the sauce piles. For fries, for pho. A plate with ketchup and mayo and so much dipping, so much joy.

I did a lot of eating with pipo. After finishing incredible fish soup in a Saigon alley, where he said 'the gangsters' ate, where the auntie cooking for us knew him, he looked at his phone and said "we can make it." We got up, he hugged our chef, pulled his vape out of his jacket's specialty tailored vape pocket and started a late night stride through tiny streets, past the alley where he took his beautiful, patient photos through the window, to a cream puff shop. He was so excited they were still open. We over ordered and ate them all.

He would say my name, a lot, always with such a caring intonation. Telling me to push myself harder, to stop worrying, emphasizing how much he loved his kids or Phong.

Every year he sent selfies of him with his family, cooking dinner for his class, or current students art work. He cared so much and lived deeply in the present. He was a pleasure seeker, deeply in touch with his senses and somehow at the same time he carried a strong Buddhist disposition. I will forever be his student.

So much love to Pipo's family. Deeply sorry for your loss. Sending love and light.

— Laura '16

I never took Pipo’s class, but we eventually became friends by frequently crossing paths late at night in the art building.

Walking by in the hallway or sculpture studio, a “hello” soon became an inspired conversation about our work and lives.

When I told Pipo about my ambitions to enter the design field after school, he never said “You should do X, Y, or Z.” Instead, he would tell me about his life, which had many twists and turns. Looking back, I now realize it was a measured attempt at guiding me, but back then it just felt like I was getting to know a peer who had also relished in the liberation of creative expression, albeit on a different path.

Pipo wasn’t a teacher as much as he was a friend to many. He didn’t instruct, he lifted you up. His mentorship wasn’t performative or formalized. Whenever we crossed paths, there wasn’t even anyone around to see us trade notes, because it was normally one or two in the morning! He was always eager to help others navigate their creative work and lives, when nothing was offered in return.

Even though we only crossed paths at one point in life years ago, the impacted he’s had in my life has been immense. Aside from the very tangible ways in which he helped advance my career, he showed me what it meant to walk through life with poise and kindness.

I’m still fueled by his eternal creative genius every day, and I hope he can see the impact he’s had on my life, as life goes on. If you’re reading this, thanks for everything, Pipo!

— Enrico Milletti '19

Pipo was my friend, teacher, mentor and professor at Oberlin College 2006-2010. I’m devastated to hear of his passing this week.

Pipo’s focus and attention in a crit was magical, and he knew how to work the room. He had everyone excited to be there and feel like the luckiest students. What he fostered at Oberlin and in the photo lab was truly special.

I was one of the lucky ones who got into black and white photography my very first semester at Oberlin, and took classes with Pipo all through college. One time in color photography, I broke the jobo - he was mad for a second and the next minute made fun of you for it. His sense of humor was unmatched, and we laughed till we cried often.

‘Okay are we going to do this 4x5 thing or what’  

I loved the way he said things and pushed you. He helped me fall in love with shooting large format color and mastering large format color darkroom printing.

After college, when I was stressed about my timeline on things he said something that stayed with me,

‘Your 20’s are for having fun and figuring out what you don’t like, your 30’s are for figuring what you like, by your 40’s hopefully you’re doing what you like and your 50’s hopefully you’re successful doing that thing,’ it made me feel so much more relaxed about timelines and pressure we put on ourselves.

Pipo had many versions of himself - serious, dressed-up Pipo, funny Pipo or let’s make some shit happen Pipo… and I loved every version of him.

I’ll miss his deep love of food, which I share. The way Pipo got his students to eat and enjoy Vietnamese food every semester was special, sharing a part of himself in a way professors usually don’t and bringing his adventurous spirit along with him always.

Pipo, it was an honor to know you and be in your orbit. Thank you for everything and for living life to the fullest.

May you rest in peace. ❤️

— Margarida Malarkey '10

Pipo and I were neighbors for two years in Oberlin, living on the second floor of a three-story building. I always found it charming how he had his students over to his apartment, with their shoes neatly lined up outside his door. One day, he knocked on my door and said we really needed to chat. He was having a terrible time, he said, and he apologized if I was aware of this. It turned out someone had moved in above him and the noise from their apartment was driving him crazy, so one night he took a broom and started banging on the ceiling. I was totally oblivious to this, but a few days later I asked him how he was holding up and he said “you know, I went upstairs and met the woman living there, and she’s actually really lovely and kind, and the noise is from her having family gatherings at her big dining table, so I don’t mind.” I have often thought of this and chuckled — only a very generous, gentle, and kind soul would accept ongoing disturbances to his own daily life in service of a family forming happy memories together.

— Alexandra Letvin

Taking Black and White Photo was such a highlight of my time as an Oberlin Student. When I think of Pipo and his impact on those around him, he truly embodied the ethos and spirit of what makes Oberlin such a special place. He shaped countless generations of students, brought us together, and made all of us feel like family. I remember entering the class with no experience in film photography and I was so motivated to make him proud with my projects. He opened up our worlds.

— Danilo Vujacic '26

When I started at Oberlin, I had no clue what I wanted to study. I signed up for classes in all different departments, hoping something would spark my interest. Nothing did until I took Pipo’s class my second semester of my freshman year. I instantly felt challenged by him, a feeling I had been searching for. For instance the first time I met him he was wearing a suit and I was wearing probably jeans or sweatpants, nothing ever as fancy as him, and he said “make sure you break up with your friends and significant other because all of your time will now be spent with me.” And he was right, I never spent another day on campus without seeing him. I spent almost every night in the dark room that semester, over worked and sleep deprived, but the way his eyes would light up whenever he saw me working and what I was working on was a high that made it all worth it. I remember asking him if I should be a studio art major, and he was confused as to why I wasn’t already, which felt like the biggest compliment in the world. He said “why is this a question? Go declare it and put me as your advisor.” Not only was he my mentor, but he was my friend. He invited me into his life and gave me his trust, I got to share meals in his house, take care of Poppy when he and Phong went away, listen to his stories, and receive so many unique smelling vials of his homemade perfume. My last memory of Oberlin is of him, as I made one final stop at his house before driving home as a new alumni. I had already said goodbye, so I just wanted to quickly leave a thank you note in his mailbox but he saw me and came running out. He laughed at my attempt to sneak by him, gave me a hug, and said he would see me soon.

Phong and I couldn’t communicate verbally because we didn’t speak each other's language, but she still showed her care to all students through Xoi and her friendliness. She had this infectious smile that made it so you couldn’t help but feel warmth and happiness when she looked at you. Pipo and Phong knew so many students, and they were able to make each one of us feel special. I know every one of us was important to them for a different reason. I cannot thank them enough for the Oberlin they helped give me and all of my classmates.

— Ruby Cohen '26

Although I never had the honor of knowing Pipo I want to express my sincerest condolences to all who knew and loved him. As a fellow professor, dog lover, and bicyclist I'm especially moved by his story.

For the countless lives you've touched Pipo, thank you. God speed professor. We'll take it from here.

— Megan Ashker

He gave me the worst grade I ever received in my studio arts major, and he gave the best advice. I hear his quotes clear as a bell every time I make art. "Cash is the best feedback" comes to mind a lot. "Who is your audience?" is another. He expected a lot from his students while modeling an impeccable work ethic, all of which helped us grow into better artists.

He worked in the studio below the one I shared with classmates during our senior capstone. He would complain about a smoky smell from our studio, then offer an American Spirit cigarette. It was this mixture of warmth and toughness that made Pipo such an effective and special mentor.

— Chrissy Spallone '08

Pipo left more of an impression on me than any other professor at Oberlin. He showed me what it was to live as an artist. He created an environment in the photo dome that made it home to so many of us. The man was joyous, infectious, inspiring, and genuinely interested in students. He had so many stories, my god. Snubbing a conventional job and working at Tent n Trails and as a nightlife bouncer while deciding to dedicate his life to art. I remember he took our class on a trip to nyc to see shows in Chelsea and of course took us to the most amazing Vietnamese restaurant in Chinatown. Such a generous teacher who encouraged me to work harder, think deeper, and really see the world. A legend.

— Sarah Kramer '03

Pipo was an incredibly giving and kind person. The things that touched him most deeply were always of a personal nature. He loved seeing his students grow through his curricula and cherished the work they made, especially when it brought something sincere into the world. Above all, he encouraged us to be brave, to embrace failure, and to learn from it. He did more than teach us, he educated us.

To me, as to so many of his students, he was much more than a professor. He was my friend, and I will miss him dearly, especially in life’s gentlest moments...

— Lucas Briffa '12

When he was a teenager, long before I knew him, my husband worked in a camping goods store in lower Manhattan with Pipo, who was a few years older. At some point, Pipo left the city and the two eventually lost touch. Fast forward a decade+. I’ve met and married my husband and we’ve purchased our first Internet-connected computer. One of the very first things S wanted to use the Internet for was to see if he could locate Pipo. No luck. About another decade goes by, and Facebook enters the scene. Another way to try to find Pipo, and this time we hit pay dirt. Not only do we find Pipo, but he’s a professor at Oberlin! What were the chances?

When I finally met Pipo on one of his many trips to NYC, I understood why he had made such an indelible impression on my husband all those years ago, enough to make him thirst to find him again. He was just so easy to connect to, so full of interests of his own to communicate, and so willing to listen patiently as we shared ours. His love for his students, and theirs for him, was palpable and inspiring. Plus, he was cool and loved good food as much as we did. My two children were toddlers when we connected/reconnected, and many NYC dinners later (and my own reunion trip back), each child finally made it to Oberlin while on the college hunt. My older child flew in on her own for an “All Roads Lead to Oberlin” day. Pipo generously picked her up from the airport, gave her what he termed the “rocknroll” tour, and generally looked out for her. (This, of course, included feeding her.) He even texted us to say she was a “fearless n calm badass.” What more could a parent want to hear? A few years later, I accompanied my younger child when she went for a visit. Pipo was pressed for time, but still managed to give us a fantastic personal tour of the art department and to have us over to his apartment. Again, I was struck by his deep love for his students and the sense of responsibility he felt towards them–even if it was couched in a kind of lightheartedness at times.

Our last dinner together (I don’t know if I will ever comprehend that phrase) was about a month ago. Pipo was in NY and wanted to try Georgian food. For logistical ease we ended up having Afghan instead. It was delicious, but in retrospect I am super sad not to have been able to address his desire for Georgian. That’s on me, though. He didn’t grumble. He wrapped up some leftover lamb for his little dog Poppy, whom he was so in love with, and who had traveled with him to Brooklyn. He told us about  his impending retirement, and about returning to Vietnam in December. Generous and encouraging as ever, he invited our child who has been traveling and working in Asia for many months to come see him and Phong in Vietnam. (Sadly, we never met Phong–just never in the same place at the same time.) Our whole family is heartbroken, but we are also grateful for every moment we got to share with this beautiful, beautiful human. I mean, how lucky were we that our paths converged? 

— Kemala Karmen '84

I personally hadn’t known Pipo as a student until my college roommate, Silas, had taken a couple of courses with him. After every class, I would hear something new that Pipo had shared about his personal life and every bit learned was better than the last!

Only after I joined the college as a staff member did I finally get to interact with Pipo myself. While he had lived a plethora of different lives, he was as humble, welcoming, humorous, and charming as ever. When I mentioned my connection to Silas, Pipo remembered who he was right away and asked such thoughtful, intentional questions that made it so clear how much Pipo cared and knew about each and every one of his students.

Oberlin was made better from having had Pipo within our little community and I will miss seeing him out for walks with his dog around town.

— Judd Wexler '21

Pipo is one of the brightest lights shining throughout my entire memory of my time at Oberlin. It is hard to summarize everything I can and want to say about him so I will share my most prominent memory of him instead. This memory is from an evening I spent trying to print some of my first work in the dark room. In addition to my lack of experience with photography before college, I was also dealing with a lack of resources as I did not own any cameras when I signed up for my first photography class, Pipo’s Intro to B&W Photography. I bought a $100 film camera online to use for the class because that was all I could spare to spend on a camera at the time. I had not known at the time of shooting my first photos that the body of the camera was slightly faulty and it created light leaks all over the photos I had captured and then printed. When I processed one of my first set of prints, I was not only disappointed but embarrassed at how the cheap camera I bought would now have to be explained as the reason for those photos. Pipo happened to be in the classroom that evening and saw my photos as I was disappointedly bringing them out to look at in the classroom lighting. He paused me as I was laying the prints out and before I could explain what was happening, he asked to look at the prints. To my utter surprise, he was looking at them in amazement and with pride instead of concern as I had expected. He told me the light leaks compounded with the subject of my photos in an extraordinary way and even called one of his more senior students to come and look at the prints. He told me to never get rid of that camera and, even though I sadly have not been able to prioritize photography as much since graduating, I will indeed never get rid of that camera. Pipo will always keep a special place in my heart, and I will remain forever grateful to have known him and to have learned from him.

— Lameya Aamir '19

Pipo made studying studio art in rural Ohio feel both avant-garde and homey, inspiring us all with his beautifully conceived photography and creating a tight-knit and supportive community of students. He was always available for both a conceptual conversation and a good laugh.

I often think of Pipo when teaching, trying to find ways to share perspective without overpowering someone’s agency, empower voice, and encourage play. Pipo brilliantly mentored and collaborated with all of his students, treating them as peers rather than pupils.

That kind of trust and respect is such a rare gift for young people. The cohort of talented, influential artists whose lives he touched during his time at Oberlin is a testament to his seemingly effortless ability to support creative development and create community.

Thank you for everything, Pipo.

— Samantha Mitchell '08

He was one of the most inspiring mentors and photography professors I’ve ever come across. Rest in peace Pipo. Thank you for challenging us, caring for us like we were your own family, hosting us repeatedly for cozy home cooked meals and teaching us so much about creativity and art.

— Marina '18

I was a Visual Arts major at Oberlin with a focus on digital photography. Digital cameras and editing software were new to me, and Pipo’s photos were some of the first digitally manipulated photographs I had seen. If I remember correctly, there was only one computer with a fancy scanner at the time – and it was housed in a basement room of the art building. I spent many hours at that computer, editing my photographs late into the night. Pipo would occasionally show up (wanting his turn on the same computer, no doubt) and gently chide me for always listening to Sade–which he joked was depressing. He never once asked me to stop what I was working on so that he could edit his own work. He would just make light conversation and then depart. A few years after graduating, he sent me an email to check-in with me. He was the only professor to reach out to me post-graduation. Reading all of these remembrances, I can see that he genuinely cared about mentoring and supporting many young adults in his life. I’m struck by how many people were able to experience his calm, generous, open-hearted spirit. I hope that both his family and his wife's family are able to find peace and comfort in the days ahead.

— Amanda Olivieri (Pope) '05

I was pre-med and majored in Biology at Oberlin, but have always been an art enthusiast. I had the privilege of taking two classes with Pipo during my time at Oberlin. Being in class with Pipo made me acutely aware of how terrible I was at photography--I could never get the focus right or convey the appropriate emotion. Despite being awful, Pipo was always encouraging and his own passion was infectious! I loved being in the studio and I have great memories of trekking around Oberlin with a large format camera, with dreams of capturing the "decisive moment" on film. Being in the darkroom and watching the images develop on paper was therapeutic at the time, and the process of creating art remains that way for me, over 20 years later. I thank Pipo for helping hone that outlet in me so many years ago. I am saddened by his loss and my heart goes out to the Oberlin Community. 

— Mia '05

I first met Pipo when I arrived at Oberlin my freshman year, although I didn’t formally take photography until my senior year. We bonded over our shared Vietnamese heritage, and he quickly became my thầy (teacher), sư phụ (master), mentor, dear friend, and family away from home.

Pipo welcomed me with such warmth and generosity. He patiently spoke Vietnamese with me despite my fluency, invited me over for home-cooked meals, and drove a number of us students to Cleveland in search of a good bowl of phở. When I wanted to establish a Vietnamese Students Association at Oberlin, he enthusiastically volunteered to be our faculty advisor. I believe the organization continues to this day, a small testament to the community he helped nurture.

My only regret from my college years is not discovering photography sooner. I fell in love with it during my senior year and spent countless hours in the photo lab, learning from Pipo and enjoying the creative community he fostered.

Our friendship continued long after graduation. I was always grateful to see him at commencements and reunions, and especially for his many visits to New York City. Just last year, Pipo and his wife Phong met my young daughter at one of his shows. It means so much to me that he got to meet the next generation of my family, just as he had become part of my own all those years ago.

One thing I will always remember about Pipo is how he described himself as bụi đời. Literally translated from Vietnamese as “dust of life,” the expression carries a meaning that is difficult to capture in English. To me, it evokes a free spirit, a wanderer, someone who moves through life on their own terms, unconstrained by convention.

Pipo embodied that spirit. I remember when he packed up his beloved fairy van and journeyed from Ohio to Oregon, embracing the next chapter of his life with curiosity and adventure. He was, in my mind, a wandering fairy monk: independent, unconventional, endlessly curious, and determined to experience all that life had to offer.

As I’ve grown older, I wish I had made more time to visit him and return to Oberlin. His sudden passing is a heartbreaking reminder of how fleeting our time together can be. But when I think of Pipo, I will remember not just the sadness of losing him, but the joy, generosity, freedom, and sense of belonging he brought into so many lives.

Thank you, Pipo, for the lessons, the laughter, the meals, the adventures, and above all, for bringing us together. You were so much more than a teacher. You were family.

May your wandering spirit live on.

— Nancy Nguyen Watiker '08

When I was at Oberlin 2002-2006, the "photo dome" was my happy place. Pipo was an amazing teacher and a friend. He had an absolutely infectious excitement about the craft of photography and so much joie de vivre. I remember when he took our alternative processes class on a weekend trip to Pittsburgh to see the Photo Antiquities Museum and The Frick. We stayed overnight in a hotel room and shared personal essays that were the springboard for an assignment called "The Story of My Name". I remember thinking how different this experience was from what I imagined a college art class would be! Pipo had a way of allowing his students' personal stories and vulnerabilities be shared in a safe way that let us grow as artists. His critiques weren't sugar coated but he never left you feeling burned because you knew he wanted you to be the best artist you could be. I will miss him terribly. His memory will be a blessing for so many of us former students, colleagues and friends who were lucky enough to have known him. I was so happy to have seen over the last few years his loving relationship with Phong bloom. I hope their souls have found each other in love and light in the next lifetime. 

— Marielle Solan '06

Pipo was far more than an immensely talented artist and a caring professor. I never had the chance to take his much-loved studio class. There was never space, and I was never quite good enough. But Pipo has always been part of my Oberlin: a friend who transcended borders and generations, sharing life experiences and laughter from Oberlin all the way to Ho Chi Minh City.

I was fortunate to spend many years with Pipo in Vietnam, at his favorite food spots tucked deep in the alleys or on street-side sidewalks, and exploring the city’s arts scene and meeting local artists. He welcomed me into his life as a fellow Obie: He introduced me to his wife Phong when they were newly dating, and to his son Quentin when Quentin visited Vietnam. We often talked about a near future when he would spend more time in Vietnam, helping young people access the arts and working on his new ideas and projects. He loved Vietnam so much, and his heart was always wide open whenever he came back. Pipo brought such sincerity, energy and life wherever he went.

May Pipo and Phong rest in peace, and may their souls find each other in the next life.

You will always be missed.

— Hang Do '06

Pipo was an incredible soul who had a uniquely tender playful character combined with a seriousness towards his craft.  His energy, passion, and kindness were apparent even in some of the briefest interactions we had on campus during my time doing art at Oberlin. I only took one class with Pipo, but it was one of the most meaningful and memorable ones entirely because of the amazing professor/mentor/artist at the helm.  He made photography accessible to newcomers like myself.  Despite his own immense talent, he had a incredibly down-to-earth way about him, treating his students as peers and fellow artists.  His class was a creative space where he encouraged exploration and digging deep, hosted us in his home and taught us about self-expression and what it is to be an artist.  The "art opening" type project critiques that Pipo arranged for class, complete with snacks, were a perfect example of how much he cared and took his students seriously, while also managing to make an intimidating process more fun and celebratory.  He truly was such an inspiration and made such an impact, even on those who only knew him briefly.  My heart goes out to all those grieving.

— Maia '14

When I came to Oberlin, my plan was to major in Japanese or Biology or maybe Theatre, but that plan changed the day I walked into my first Black and White photography class. I had never shot film before (and anyone in class with me would admit my work was generally pretty terrible), but Pipo was always there to support and encourage me. Over the next three years, Pipo and his classes provided me with an example of learning, collaboration, and competition that fundamentally shifted my life trajectory regarding how I thought about the art, the world, and my relationship to others.

After I left Oberlin, I still found myself bringing up his stories and his pieces on a regular basis. I would occasionally run into him in New York or Cleveland, and even though years had passed, he always seemed genuinely excited to see me. We invariably ran into each other in the middle of one of us going somewhere else, so the joke was that we'd catch up over a drink "next time." I will forever regret not making that drink happen.

You will live on in the lives you touched, the lives you changed, and the beauty you brought into the world. In just the past day alone, the number of people, organizations, and institutions that have spoken up has given me faith that your memory will burn bright for many years to come. Pipo, thank you for everything.

— Daniel Dudley '12

Pipo changed how I saw the world and helped me set my course. He taught us that art was connected with life, history, and who we are. His total exuberance and the joy he took in teaching was so rare and so special. He was a true model of a transformative and committed teacher, and he will be remembered with admiration and boundless gratitude by so many. 

— Lauren '00

It was notoriously difficult to get a spot in Pipo's photography class and as a hobbyist since high school I dearly wanted in. I brought a big portfolio of prints to his office to try and plead my case, only to find him leaving on his scooter. Desperate, I chased after him shouting and waving. Lucky for me he was a great sport about it.

Like many new photographers, I was too enamored with gear and technique and too little with art. Pipo taught me the parts I was missing. He taught me to appreciate the craft of photography: I fondly remember dipping glass plates and gilding them to make orotones after reading up on older printing techniques (and I somewhat *less* fondly remember spending a few hours scrubbing spilled gold leaf sizing off the countertop outside his darkroom). More importantly, he taught me to think about what I want my photography to say. Photography has brought richness and joy to my life, and I owe Pipo a deep debt of gratitude for teaching me to deepen my relationship with the art form.

— Gary Cohen '11

Once, when Pipo and I went out to dinner, he introduced himself as my father. As time went on, he would even introduce me as his daughter. I never once stopped him. In many ways, he did everything a father should: treated me for meals, taught me skincare, pushed me to deepen my craft, encouraged me when I was feeling stuck. He connected with me as I was first exploring my gender identity, praised me for how I approached it through my art. Delicate, reserved. He even recommended me for internships, knowing how much I wanted a career in the arts. In a time when I was struggling with my future, with myself, and with my own family, he knew how to give me a place to belong. I will cherish those days with him for the rest of my life.

I always felt at home with Pipo, and my heart aches knowing that he can never again be a part of mine.

— Mia Park '18

Pipo wasn’t my teacher, yet he still took the time to talk to me about art, ideas, and my burgeoning interest in film. He was a constant supportive presence in the lives of so many friends in the Studio Art Dept, and at every opening or screening or studio tour he was there, enthusiastically ensuring that everyone really took in what they were seeing.

On a visit to Oberlin, my mother had a chance to guest lecture and do studio visits with photography students and Pipo showed her the ropes, as well as his studio. She was so inspired by how he had designed his space- tidy yet colorful, controlled yet creative- that she used it as inspiration for remodeling the kitchen. That’s just small piece of evidence of how impactful he could be without even trying.

It’s rare that a teacher is so generous with both their students and their peers, with their knowledge and with their laughter. Since learning of his tragic passing- and that of his wife- I have been flooded with memories of what it was like to share space with him.

I am praying for his peaceful passage, for his family and friends, and for the Oberlin community which is so tight knit.

I am celebrating the very very full and remarkable life he lived.

— Lena Dunham '08

Pipo was one of the reasons that I came to study at Oberlin. I took as many courses with him as I possibly could and worked as a monitor in the beautiful photo lab that was finished my sophomore year. I’m sure I saw him almost every day of the week all the way through college. The photo lab was my home, and Pipo and his other students were my family. From the very first course, I felt blessed to be a part of Pipo’s orbit. Reading the remembrances of his more recent students, I’m struck by how little has changed. Pipo himself did not age in twenty years, and I wish he could have lived forty more. I feel grateful for all of the time with him that I had. I also feel grateful for the community that he made. Pipo’s artwork is etched in my brain. His way of being in the world is something to aspire to. I hope that his memory can be a guide for me going forward, and I will strive to be some fraction of the teacher he was. His mentorship and friendship gave me a sense of rootedness in the world – of how big and wild the world is, because Pipo led a big and wild life, and also how beautiful, and interesting, and delicious (I will never forget the full fried flounder that we would always order at the Vietnamese place in Cleveland). The last time I saw him he told me all about Phong and I was happy for his happiness. I will honor his memory and hers every day.

— Helen Stuhr-Rommereim '09

Pipo was my beloved photography professor and friend. He engaged his students as adults. He taught and approached life with a deep curiosity, enthusiasm, and sense of humor. Oberlin is home for me. Each summer when I return to see my parents, Pipo was always someone I would reconnect with. He updated me on his adventures, his exhibitions (we collect his work), and his son Quentin, of whom he was boundlessly proud. He was the heart of Oberlin for me and home will never be the same without him.

— Emily Stein '05

I had the privilege of taking Pipo’s photography class during my junior year at Oberlin. I was the kind of art student who always wanted to try a bit of everything, but Pipo encouraged me to engage more deeply with art that actually resonated with me. Now as a musician, I still often remind myself of Pipo’s words and dive deep into every new project until it becomes a part of me.

I fondly remember our art critique days, when we would have a charming little ritual of dressing up for the occasion and presenting our work to our classmates. Pipo was also always so kind to invite his classes every semester to his home for a lovely home-cooked brunch. We took a nice class portrait on a nice day out, went on a little trip for ice cream, and we were fortunate to attend one of his exhibition openings as well. These are memories that I will always cherish.

Since moving back to Thailand, I’ve found that whenever I reconnect with my Oberlin friends around the world, Pipo and the memories of his photography classes often come up in our conversations. And when we share about our meetups on social media, Pipo would celebrate our friendships with us too.

Pipo was an inspiration and mentor to generations of us students and to anyone lucky enough to know him. He will always be remembered for his wise words, his quirkiness, and his gift as a teacher and artist.

— Thanisa D. '18

Pipo taught me as much about life as he did about photography. When my dear friend Emma died, Pipo invited me to find healing in his studio. Pipo taught me how to develop film, grain focus an enlarger, and to always knock before rounding the corner in the darkroom. He also taught me what it meant to take myself seriously as an artist and storyteller. As a mentor and a friend, he inspired me to travel the world, to spend time in monasteries as he had, and to remember that suffering and joy are universally human and that no one person or type of person has any more or less of it. Pipo taught me the importance of respecting our elders, and that as adults, we get to pick these elders. Pipo introduced me to phở, which remains my favorite meal to this day. He taught me how to say 'please' and 'thank you' in Vietnamese, and when I graduated from college he invited me to spend a couple of weeks visiting Saigon and the Mekong Delta with him. I'm going to go have a bowl of phở and remember our friend and teacher. Sending my love to all who are grieving.

— Patrick Gilfether '15

Pipo was my mentor and friend. When I got my first real big job a couple years ago, he was one of the first people I called. We ended up talking for almost two hours as I wandered around New York. He was stoked for me. I was stoked for everything he was doing—he’d just gotten married to Phong and was ebullient. Got dinner with him last year and it was just the same as dinners back in his house with the photo fam. I ache. For him. For us. For his fam.

— Lex Voight '12

Pipo to me is more than a professor. He is a dear friend, a mentor, a role model I look up to dearly. He has a contagious energy that brightens every room he walks into, light up every person he speaks to. He is wise, humble, full of love for life, he is all I want to be when I grow older. We had promised each other to hang out in Vietnam when he retires, and I have been looking forward to that day so much. 
Pipo, please know that you and co Phong will always be in my heart. Forever.

— Loan Lu '15

As a Vietnamese student, I cannot express how grateful I am for having thầy Pipo serving as the advisor for the Vietnamese Student Association at Oberlin. The Viet community at Oberlin has found a home far away from home through the community in which professor Pipo and Ms Phong created, Oberlin Xôi. Oberlin Xôi was opened in my senior year of college (Fall 2023), and Xoi has really made my last year at Oberlin become meaningful. I know I have said this already in my graduation post but I will be saying this again on this special occation, Oberlin Xôi will always have a special place in my heart. May thầy Pipo and Ms Phong rest in peace, and the Viet Community at Oberlin will surely mourn this loss for a really long time…

In our last conversation you were asking me what I was up to post grad (from Oberlin). 2 years later I still have not yet had a clear answer as I am still figuring things out. Sadly I will never get to share more updates on my life after Oberlin with you - you were gone too soon. But the Phở Power spirit will never fade away - I am trying, failing and learning!

— Nguyen Nguyen '24

I was a pretty decent ping pong player, having played a lot in high school. Somehow at Oberlin I found myself across the table from Professor Pipo. I may have scored two points that match, and only because his ball slightly missed my end of the table. He was quick and powerful and by far the best player I ever played against.

— Noah Streib '06

Despite having a camera on me at all times throughout my college experience, I only took one of Pipo's photography classes (though I managed to pull off a private reading in portrait photography with him as well). Both books I printed while developing further as a photographer within Pipo's critical eye remain some of my finest portrait work, pushed and nudged along by him and others in The Lab.

About halfway through the semester of the B&W film photography class, he noted that I could shift to digital if I wanted, reminding me that the best camera is the one you have on you. That stuck with me, and it served as the grounding philosophy of the three semesters I taught the Learning to See: My Camera and Me ExCo (blessed by Pipo, of course). Photography is as much in the eye and the artistic vision as it is in the equipment and materials. Pipo's encouragement of every artist, especially photographers, was a gift to so many generations of Obies.

Pipo was one of the first people I saw walking around town when I moved back to Oberlin this fall, and it was a lovely surprise to see him here, smiling, delighted that we were both once again sharing a place we both love. Wish we'd had one more photo walk in the arb, my friend.

— Ma'ayan Plaut '10

Pipo was brilliant in that he treated all his students as his peers. It was true friendship. True collaboration. He invested in his students as he did his practice. Senior year he was one of our honors thesis advisors. We all went to New York City. Shared stories, laughs, saw art together and talked about the world. He challenged us all to believe in ourselves.

I feel so grateful I got to reconnect with him while visiting campus to lecture two years ago. He was the rock of the art department and a guiding light to us all.

— Isabel Yellin '11

Pipo sucked all the juice out of this life. Every opportunity was one to explore and create: to make a beautiful image, to eat delicious Vietnamese food at Cafe Saigon, to take a field trip to the CMA on a Sunday morning, way too early, to come over during class to watch The Vertical Ray of the Sun, to take Poppy for a walk around the block, to have hugs on a hard day, to concoct perfumes, to joke with him for hours in the darkroom, and to spend time around a truly unique and special human being.

Getting to know Pipo and working alongside him during my four years at Oberlin will always remain some of the most important and life-changing experiences of my life. I have never known someone whose mind challenged me to think harder and more deeply about making art, being part of a community, and growing into a person in this world.

May he live on in all of us, through our art and in the friendships we build wherever we may go. Photo family forever.

— Max Manko '26

From my freshman to senior year I spent every single semester with Pipo. He was my studio art advisor, professor, and mentor in photography and I would not have grown into the person and artist I am without him. Pipo was kind to all of his students as if they were his own kids. He was fashionable and funny and would check in on us alums just to know he still thought of us. During my senior studio visits with him he was always so encouraging on my vision and pushed me to take my ideas farther. A year post grad when I was excepted into my first exhibition Pipo was the first one I told and he responded "Well heckkkkkkk yaaaaaaa and huge congrats to you . A fantastic way to begin the year !! Hope you r staying warm and all is well " in traditional Pipo fashion! He wrote me recommendations for grad school and we met for coffee in Oberlin just last year laughing and talking about art and the world. He is a light in the Oberlin art department and community and I will miss him dearly. For all around him he was inspiring and accepting which is a role I do not believe anyone can replace. I am sending so much love to his family and current Oberlin community.

— Sara Fields '24

Pipo was always a kind, loving and thoughtful professor and human being. His compassion cast a wide spell on campus that positively affected many, including myself. Rest in power Pipo.

— Calder Singer '11

Pipo is on a very short list of educators who have most profoundly impacted my life. I struggled with traditional academia and longed for something to do with my hands. I longed to learn techniques, new and archaic. Pipo was a breath of fresh air. His experimental photography course was foundational to the path my life has taken. He taught me to make magic out of light and a few chemicals. He taught me how to see beauty and wonder in the most rundown and weary settings. Not only that, but he was a friend. I used to babysit for him and spend long hours chatting about art and music and culture and his favorite 80s bands (he was particularly fond of OMD, which I found charming because I was more of a Siouxsie/Cure type). What I love so much about my memory is that I'm just one of many on whose life he made such a profound impact. You will be deeply missed Pipo!

— Seth '04

My senior year at Oberlin felt completely unlike any other year there, and so much of that was due to Pipo. I had arrived back after a Junior year abroad and found myself spending most of the year in the photo domes, learning from Pipo, and completely immersing myself in photography. I have no doubt that I owe my start in media, and magazines in particular, to his influence. He taught me how to SEE images, and to connect with other students who were just as enthusiastic as I was in pursuing this craft. 
In the years since, several times in the course of casual conversation with strangers I have realized that they, or their child, had studied with Pipo and been equally transformed by his teaching and presence. All of his students are bound together by the invisible threads of his mentorship, his kind guidance, and the bonds that developed through him. It is a most wonderful web that I still feel today.

— Chris Morocco '03

Pipo’s intro to photography was a seminal course for me and I have vivid memories of spending time with him during that class. And discussing particular images with him. He exuded a boundless curiosity for his students and was a champion of his students’ creative life. My thoughts are with his family, and those of my classmates and professors who were particularly close with Pipo and now face this tragic loss.

— Anna G '09 

Pipo is one of the few professors whose memory and energy have stuck with me in the many years since I graduated. I was an art major and took two classes with him. His critiques were often challenging but never harsh or personal. I was somewhat awe-struck by his ease, sparkle, and genuinely "cool" persona. Now when he crosses my mind, his memories will take on a new weight. My heart goes out to his closest people and the community.

— Jessa Dickinson '09 

Pipo took some wonderful photos of different campus groups, in about 2003. I have the two he took of groups I was in hanging in my dining room as a great Oberlin memory.

— Christina Russell '06

I only had Pipo for one class, Photo 1, in my junior year. I was taking another art studio at the same time and so my work for Pipo's class wasn't my best. Regardless, he was a caring and careful teacher for us, and built a community within The Lab where we all felt shared ownership over the studio space. He showed us how to create and collaborate, and gave honest, constructive feedback on all our work.

My final semester, Fall of 2010, I booked Fisher Gallery for my art show I was building, for the week typically reserved for Pipo's senior studio class. They ended up showing in the new space downtown, but Pipo found time to visit my show. I remember him looking up at me, halfway through the gallery, and saying, "But this is so good!" It was a stark contrast to the mediocre work I'd presented him during our course together. He planned to bring his senior seminar group to the show later in the week, but unfortunately it was already down by the time they made it. 

In keeping with how Pipo treated his students as peers, he hosted an open house brunch during Commencement Weekend, and my parents and brother remember meeting him as he welcomed us all into his home. We kept in touch for some years, planning to exchange art (a small piece from my show for a photograph of his, maybe of an abandoned greenhouse he often photographed, or one of his self portraits). The exchange never happened, but there is peace in our old messages, exchanged so casually and kindly in the years after I graduated: happy birthdays, congratulations for his Guggenheim, small notes here and there that we remembered each other. 

Ma'ayan Plaut '10 took a photo of me and Pipo at my show opening, and I'll always treasure it, his appraising gaze alongside my giddy surprise at his approval of this undertaking. Miss you so, Pipo. Thanks for absolutely everything.

— Ali Pohanka '11

Pipo was an incredible inspiration to me when I studied under him at Oberlin. He didn't just teach photography...he taught us how to see the world differently, especially how to recognize and appreciate the humanity in us all. I'll never forget the quality with which he engaged - his deeply penetrative inquisitiveness blended with an elegant lightheartedness. Thank you, Pipo, for all the perspectives you helped foster; for the humbleness with which you taught, for the smiles you shared so easily. I'll cherish your memory forever

— Ben Lowenstein '07

During my second year at college, I took photography class by Pipo. At the time, he taught me so much about expressing myself artistically but also encouraged me a lot in pushing through my artistic boundaries. I felt like it is my happiest semester at Oberlin. I had been simply staying at darkroom all the time until midnights because I really enjoyed what he taught us and had a lot of fun printing my photos… Even after the class ended, Pipo and I maintained very good relationship and he had always been so warm-hearted and supportive of me. Recently (summer of 2025), Pipo invited me to visit his house and hang out with poppy, his lovely puppy. It was a really hot day and poppy was laying on the ground; Pipo cooked for me and poppy. There weren’t that many people I know who stayed at Oberlin over the summer, so hanging out with him and poppy really made me feel founded and “at home.”

— Sean Chen '25

As a student at the Oberlin Conservatory, I didn’t have much academic interaction with Professor Pipo. However, his pho was truly delicious. During my freshman year, every Friday I would take the Oberlin ride line to his house to pick up my delicious pho. Sometimes I would even drive there with friends to get some. Professor Pipo was so thoughtful, even telling me the best time to reheat it for optimal flavor! This is truly one of the most cherished memories from our college years. Hearing of his passing fills me with immense sorrow. May he rest in peace, and may he continue to bring delicious pho to everyone in heaven.

— Michael

My name is Val and I graduated w Biology and Visual art majors. Pipo was my art professor in photography and senior art studio. He was funny, inspiring, creative, and a legend that I always share with my friends. He was one of the people who had profound influence on my life in Oberlin, and our friendship continued after my graduation in 2021. In 2023 on a random street in K town Manhattan, we ran into each other again. Last year his had gallery show at CLAMP and it was absolutly intriguing. Me and my friend called him earlier this year, and I was do excited to see his work being exhibited in NYC again. A few weeks ago I went to the college reunion. I should've visited him -- this is going to be one of my biggest regret in life. Rest in peace Pipo, your words will forever live with me. It was a pleasure to meet you.

 — Val Zhang '21

Professor Pipo is someone who truly loves life. Through the lens of his camera, you can see the compassion and kindness he has for everyone. He always has a smile on his face and treats every person with genuine warmth and sincerity. What I love most are the sandwiches and pho he makes. During my freshman and sophomore years, they were something I looked forward to every single weekend. I’m truly grateful for Professor Pipo and all the warmth and kindness he brings into our lives.

— Roger Wu

I feel incredibly heartbroken by the news of Pipo’s passing. Pipo was the professor who introduced me to the world of photography at Oberlin, but what he taught me went far beyond art. He was one of the kindest, most genuine, and supportive people I have ever met. I was incredibly lucky to have him as my major advisor. He had such a wonderful sense of humor and genuinely cared about his students, not just as artists, but as people. He would take students out for meals, welcome them into his home and studio, and share stories about his life, his Vietnamese heritage, his younger days working as a bartender, and how those experiences shaped his artwork. Through those conversations, he was one of the first people who showed me that life could look so different from what society expects of us. That perspective has stayed with me and shaped the way I approach my own life.

One memory I will always cherish is from my graduation. I had jokingly mentioned that, because I had studied away, I never got the chance to take a proper class photograph or have something to remember our class by. Pipo actually listened. He made a T-shirt and gave me a signed photograph, which I still have hanging in my home today. It was such a thoughtful gesture, and so representative of who he was. Every time I look at that photograph, I think about the wonderful years I spent at Oberlin and how fortunate I was to have him as my professor.

The last time I saw Pipo was in 2023. I never imagined that would be the last time. It breaks my heart that someone who brought so much kindness, creativity, and inspiration into the world was taken away in such a sudden and violent way. I wish he had more years to create his beautiful art, enjoy life, and inspire more generations of students, just as he inspired me. He was everything I could have hoped for in an advisor, and so much more. I will always be grateful for the kindness he showed me and the way he changed how I see the world. He will be deeply missed.

— Xiaoyun Gong '21