An-My Lê, who is currently living and working in New York, was born in Saigon (former name of Ho Chi Minh City) in 1960.

In 1975, An-My Le and her family settled in the US.

She received BAS and MS degrees in biology from Stanford University (1981, 1985) and an MFA from Yale University (1993).

Her photographs and films examine the impact, consequences, and representation of war. Whether in color or black-and-white, her pictures frame a tension between the natural landscape and its violent transformation into battlefields.

Among her well-known photography projects are "Viêt Nam" (1994–98), in which Lê’s memories of a war-torn countryside are reconciled with the contemporary landscape; "Small Wars" (1999–2002), and "29 Palms" (2003–04), in which United States Marines preparing for deployment play-act scenarios in a virtual Middle East in the California desert.

Her work explores the disjunction between wars as historical events and the ubiquitous representation of war in contemporary entertainment, politics, and collective consciousness.

The following are some photographic works within her "Viêt Nam" project (1994–98):

"Untitled, Ho Chi Minh City," 1995 Gelatin silver print, 20 x 24 inches. Edition of 10. © An-My Lê, courtesy Murray Guy, New York."It’s not the way it was twenty years ago, or the way it’s described in folktales my grandmother and mother used to tell me, or even in stories from my mother’s own childhood in the North. So I really looked for things that suggested a certain way of life- agrarian life- things that connect you to the land. Unfortunately, pictures don’t smell, but if I could do that they would be about smells as well."

"Untitled, Mekong Delta," 1994 Gelatin silver print, 20 x 24 inches. Edition of 10. © An-My Lê, courtesy Murray Guy, New York."I think we’re all dealt a card in life, and I used to think that I was dealt a very difficult one. Then I came to realize that it has made my life richer and that it has been a great foil for my work. Without really being conscious of it when doing my work, I’ve always tried to understand the meaning of war, how it has affected my life, and what it means to live through times of turbulence like that. A lot of those questions fuel my work."

"Untitled, Ho Chi Minh City," 1998 Gelatin silver print, 20 x 24 inches. Edition of 10. © An-My Lê, courtesy Murray Guy, New York."As soon as I got to Vietnam, I realized that I was not so interested in the specific psychology of each person. I was much more interested in their activities, and how those activities splayed onto the landscape. It seemed to me that that suggested a lot more about the culture and history of the country. And this was more fitting for me in terms of the way I worked and what I was interested in."

"Untitled, Lao Bao," 1998 Gelatin silver print, 20 x 24 inches. Edition of 10. © An-My Lê, courtesy Murray Guy, New York."I grew up during the Vietnam War. We lived in Vietnam through many of the offensives and coups. In 1968 after the Tet offensive the Viet Cong took over part of the city for a while...War was part of life for us. People ask, "Wasn’t it frightening?" We were really too young to know it the way an adult would. As a child, it’s just part of your life and you deal with it when it happens."

"Untitled, Son Tay," 1998 Gelatin silver print, 20 x 24 inches. Edition of 10. © An-My Lê, courtesy Murray Guy, New York."There are some people (like Judith Ross) who can photograph one person and somehow suggest a collective history, a collective memory. But it seems that I try to do that with landscape. When you live in exile, things like smells and memories and stories from childhood all take on such importance. So this was an opportunity to reconnect with the real thing, and to be confronted with contemporary Vietnam."

"Untitled, Ba Vi," 1998 Gelatin silver print, 20 x 24 inches. Edition of 10. © An-My Lê, courtesy Murray Guy, New York."You approach different issues at different times of your life. When I first made the pictures in Vietnam, I was not ready to deal with the war. Being able to go back to Vietnam was a way to reconnect with a homeland, or with the idea of what a homeland is and with the idea of going home."

"Untitled, Nam Ha," 1994 Gelatin silver print, 24 x 20 inches. Edition of 10. © An-My Lê, courtesy Murray Guy, New York."Black and white was always my choice because of my interest in drawings. A black-and-white photograph is just more pronounced because it’s all about lines and the changes are tonal, from grays to darker grays to blacks and to whites. So drawing is conserved in the black- and-white palette. What’s interesting to me is that the fact that color is removed somehow makes certain things more obvious. One is not distracted by the fact that it’s connected to real lives- or perhaps I should say that black and white is a little bit more removed from real life than color photography is. It is removed from reality- it’s its own thing."