Update — We’ve re-opened in District 1. Arcan is now back in an upgraded venue on the second floor of Bam Bam, 41–43 Nam Ky Khoi Nghia, District 1, Ho Chi Minh City — with a 300-cap dancefloor, VOID Acoustics sound, and Superlative lighting. The manifesto below remains our compass. infos: DM @arcansaigon.
Cập nhật — Arcan đã mở cửa trở lại tại Quận 1. Chúng tôi trở lại trong không gian nâng cấp tại tầng 2 của Bam Bam, 41–43 Nam Kỳ Khởi Nghĩa, Quận 1, TP.HCM — với sàn nhảy 300 khách, âm thanh VOID và ánh sáng Superlative. Tuyên ngôn bên dưới vẫn là kim chỉ nam của chúng tôi. Thông tin : DM @arcansaigon.
My name is Josselin Ferruzza, and I’m the owner of Arcan Saigon. This is my manifesto.
I make this statement today in the hope that it can ignite something in the next generation of nightlife leaders in Vietnam. They should know it can be done, and it’s worth it. But it must be done with passion and care for it to reach its full potential.
I am the son of a French businesswoman and an Italian mason immigrant. I am part of a millennial generation that has been lied to. I was told to work hard in school, get a good degree, and that my life would be sweet afterward. But that was not true. After checking all the academic boxes and entering a multinational company, I quickly realized that the bright future I was promised wasn't going to happen. I grew up in a country weakened by division and a loss of identity—a place without a greater purpose anymore.
So, I immigrated to Vietnam, a place where I felt more freedom than anywhere else in the world. What I found in Vietnam was a resilient people—supportive of one another and welcoming to a foreigner like myself. A country with strict rules, but a sense of fairness. The Vietnamese people have supported me every step of the way, in a country where violence is rare and respect matters. I found a place where we could run a nightclub for seven years without security, knowing that everyone was looking out for each other.
Becoming an immigrant—someone who left his own country in the hope of finding a better future elsewhere—cost me and my family everything we had. But we also gained so much. Moving my mother to Vietnam helped heal her depression and gave my brother a life he could never have imagined in France. It gave my wife a new life she was probably never meant to lead. It gave me a son I cherish more than anything. And it gave me the chance to create not just a club, but a strong community around me. This is priceless.
A blend of my desire to integrate into the country I chose as my home and my quest to create a space where everyone feels welcome. I tried to make open-mindedness a priority, hosting all kinds of community-led events. I walked the line between business and culture, welcoming hip-hop concerts, metal and punk bands, LGBTQ+ drag shows, experimental performances, and electronic music events. This diversity, this cultural mix, is what made Arcan what it is—a space where different communities not only coexist but often unite. And it quickly became clear that this was the only way for me to lead Arcan. It couldn't just be about what I like. It had to be about others, even more so because I was doing it in a country that was not my own.
The Arcan spirit is what makes it okay to transition from rappers with auto-tune to speed garage and techno. It's what makes it acceptable to interrupt a rave with a punk band. It's a spirit that allows the kinky and queer to coexist with the cis and everyone else. It’s grassroots, authentic, and unfiltered. We never tried to fit in — we just did what we loved, together.
But that spirit could no longer be contained in the space we built seven years ago. The more people we touched and integrated, the more complex it became. Running a nightclub isn't like managing any other business — the rewards are immense, but the challenges are equally significant. A nightclub is not just a place where we sell booze; it's about connections, encounters, and discoveries. We reached a point where there was no other choice but to close. However, we make this decision in the hope that it may be the best way to preserve our ethos.
Vietnam, like the rest of the world, is changing. It's facing economic challenges, and in such times, people often stop going out. Yet, many felt blessed to have Arcan—a space that could still bring joy during difficult times. Arcan was special because it emerged at a pivotal moment in the creation of the Vietnamese underground nightlife. It was the product of an incredible connection between a venue searching for an audience and growing communities in need of a place to thrive. And thrive they did. They helped me carry Arcan through two years of the COVID crisis. After that, they actively embraced it as their own. Together, we built something that stands as a proud Vietnamese statement, anchoring Saigon in the regional and global club scene. A bridge from Vietnam to the world — raw, new, and filled with a unique sense of freedom.
We're making sure the spirit lives on. We’re taking steps to find a new home. We’re gathering people to preserve Arcan’s legacy. Make no mistake — what is lost is lost. It will never be the same. But maybe that’s for the best.
We need to regroup and reach out, bringing together like-minded individuals who can give Arcan what I could no longer. We need to recognize our unique strengths within the nightlife scene and collaborate meaningfully, ensuring that the music business and the music culture support and uplift each other. When these elements work in harmony, they create a deeper, more authentic experience — one that can sustain itself and grow over time.
If anyone sees themselves in this vision, reach out and let’s come together. Or just stay tuned until you hear from us.
With Love,