Vietnamese Painter Một Quả Tắc Creates an Intimate and Gentle World on Silk

Silk is an inherently finicky, demanding medium. Yet from the very first encounter, Quế Hương had chose to embrace its temperament and has devoted herself to it for nearly a decade.

Recently, Saigoneer had the opportunity to visit Quế Hương’s living space, which also serves as her creative studio. Greeting us right at the doorstep were her two feline assistants.

Photo by Jimmy Art Devier.

Quế Hương’s love for painting blossomed in childhood and grew stronger as she studied Fine Arts at the University of Fine Arts in Hồ Chí Minh City. While searching for her own artistic identity among various materials, silk chose her, perhaps it was her patience that ultimately won silk over.

When asked about her artist name, “Một Quả Tắc,” Hương explained, “It is just a random name without any particular meaning. Among the larger citrus fruits such as pomelo and orange, tắc is the smallest. And I see myself as still very green and small as well.”

Quế Hương. Photo by Jimmy Art Devier.

The journey of a young artist is rarely strewn with roses. Graduating right as the pandemic erupted, Quế Hương faced the crossroads of careers. She even considered setting aside her brushes to find a stable office job. “Thankfully, at that very time, I had the fortune to meet an art collector who bought some of my paintings, giving me more confidence to pursue this path.”

‘Mơn man’ (Caress)

‘Méow’

Looking at Quế Hương’s works in exhibitions or on social media, you'll be immersed in a gentle realm of grasses, trees, flowers, small animals, and youthful maidens. Her sources of inspiration are never far away. They may be self-portraits, the most ordinary moments of daily life, the people closest to her, or, at times, some strange ideas that suddenly take hold in her mind

The two silk paintings currently in progress that Saigoneer observed offer a clear example. One shows a small cat lounging contently across its owner’s lap in a green floral dress. The other captures a pair of cats in a playful tussle. Each painting feels like a diary entry that Quế Hương has recorded and preserved on silk, allowing those memories to endure. Even when they find new owners, the works are likely to evoke recognition or hold personal meaning for whoever takes them home.

‘Mấy đôi giày đã cũ của tôi’ (My old shoes)

‘Hái sao cho em’ (Picking stars for you)

“I’ve never felt bored, discouraged, or wanted to give up on silk painting, because there are still so many ideas I want to explore and so many things I want to paint.”

This persistence has earned Quế Hương multiple awards and a unique place in the art community. In September 2024, she marked a major milestone with her first solo exhibition, “Xôn xao” (Flutter). The show featured 15 paintings with a poetic color palette, creating a serene space where viewers could escape the chaos outside and lose themselves in her dreamy realm and her meticulous technique.

Silk painting ‘Lập xuân’ (Spring beginning) displayed at the “Xôn xao” exhibition.

Learning the silk painting process

By following Quế Hương through each stage of her work, one comes to truly appreciate the intensive care and labor this art form demands.

‘Xoxo’

The silk fabric used for painting is different from silk used for clothing. It is thinner, has a rougher texture, and is usually coated with a thin layer of glue. If needed, the artist can wash some of it away to make the fabric softer. After securing the silk, she builds a wooden stretcher frame of any size she desires. “One time, I made a frame so large it wouldn’t fit in the apartment elevator, so I had to carry it up the stairs. Later, when taking the painting to an exhibition, I had to ask muscular guys to help carry it down the stairs again,” Quế Hương recalled with a smile.

Silk being coated with glue.

Next, she must stretch the silk onto the frame herself, secure it with pins, and apply glue. “During this stage, I usually have to put the two cats away so they don’t run around and get fur on the painting. Even so, while painting, cat hair still easily sticks to it, so once the paint dries, I use a lint roller to clean it.” When the silk frame is ready, Quế Hương selects her idea, sketches, draws the details, and applies color. She mainly uses watercolor, but also incorporates gouache and Chinese ink when needed.

‘Bật một bản nhạc nhé’ (Let's put on some music)

She added: “Silk painters often work standing at a flat table. I used to do that too. It was so tiring on the neck and legs! Luckily now I have this easel that I can tilt, but it still causes back pain and sore knees.” Despite that, because she loves her craft, Hương still paints diligently for hours on end. “When I get too tired, I just massage myself or go to a parlor!”

Finally, Quế Hương mounts a layer of fabric on the back of the painting. It is usually a smooth fabric with minimal texture so as not to alter the structure and image on the silk. Depending on the “mood” of the painting, she chooses light, dark, or neutral backing fabric. “For dark paintings, I’ll choose gray or black fabric. For warm-toned paintings, I use white. I don’t always add backing fabric though. Some pieces I leave as they are, depending on the aesthetic.”

‘Lặp’ (Repeat)

The recent resurgence of interest in silk painting among young people is an encouraging sign. For Quế Hương, it’s not only a personal joy but also an opportunity for this traditional medium to be reinterpreted in more diverse artistic languages.

“I also want to travel more to recharge and gain new inspiration. Besides that, I hope more people will get to know me as a silk painter,” Quế Hương said, her eyes sparkling as she looked out toward the sunlit balcony.