Thuy Mai’s artistic trajectory unfolds not from early immersion in the so-called art world, but through an unexpected encounter with drawing in her teenage years. Born in Lao Cai, a mountainous province in northern Vietnam, she did not grow up surrounded by the iconography or instruction that often frames conventional artistic biographies. Her entry into the field was accidentally initiated by a friend’s invitation to a drawing class. Initially intending to pursue journalism, Mai found in art a quiet but insistent pull—one that would eventually lead her to enroll at the National University of Arts Education:

I stumbled upon art quite unexpectedly. During high school, a friend invited me to join an art class as she wanted to apply to an art school. Although I had initially planned to pursue journalism and communication, I found the art class incredibly enjoyable and decided to join my friend in honing my drawing skills. In the end, my friend never went to art school, and instead, I enrolled in the National University of Arts Education. After graduation though, I became an art teacher to ensure a stable income. The idea of solely focusing on painting without any other profession seemed risky. What if nobody liked or collected my artwork? How would I sustain myself and my family? However, amidst the unfortunate circumstances of the COVID pandemic, teaching art classes became increasingly unstable. It was during this time that I found myself with more dedicated hours to focus on my own artistic creations. Filled with excitement, I began sharing photos of my paintings on Facebook, and to my surprise, they received love and support from people. This positive response and encouragement fueled my determination. Now, I am incredibly grateful to be able to make a living as an artist. It brings me immeasurable joy and fulfillment, surpassing my wildest

Following graduation, Thuy Mai initially pursued teaching, valuing its stability over the uncertainties of a full-time artistic career. It wasn’t until the COVID-19 pandemic rendered freelance teaching increasingly unstable that the artist found unexpected time to focus on her own creative output. By sharing paintings online, Thuy Mai’s works gained growing attention and encouragement. This moment marked a quiet inflection point, when she began to commit to painting with full attention.

Thuy Mai chooses silk painting as her major technique and medium, an artistic practice that carries a rich and regionally specific history. While silk painting in East Asia broadly shares technical lineages—from Chinese ink-based literati traditions to Korean minhwa and Japanese kachōga—Vietnamese silk painting developed its own vernacular forms, often portraying village scenes, women, children, and daily rituals. In the early 20th century, Vietnamese modernists such as Nguyễn Phan Chánh adapted the medium in dialogue with Western composition techniques introduced by French colonial art education. It is within this layered tradition that Thuy Mai locates her work—not as a return to past forms, but as an evolving conversation with them.

Thuy Mai refers to her method as “dry silk,” deviating from the conventional “wet silk” technique that involves extensive water saturation and reworking. Instead, she selectively moistens the surface to achieve delicate color modulations, allowing greater control over density and luminosity. This restrained approach results in paintings that carry an inner vibrancy without overwhelming the visual field, foregrounding restraint as an aesthetic strength. 

Thuy Mai's palette visually evokes a sense of nostalgia through the vignette atmosphere and sun-warmed hues. The artist's composition often features quotidian objects—bowls of fruit, glimmering ceramic vessels, flowers in full bloom. Far from picturing domesticity in tone or function, these items are not presented as tokens of private life or interiority; rather, they are charged motifs through which Mai rewrites the conventions of both Western still life and orientalist iconography. Rather than nostalgically reiterating tradition or indulging in exotic surface, Mai’s paintings reanimate the silk painting and still life genre through a visual logic that is simultaneously playful and pointed, reminding its spectators that tradition need not be preserved in stasis. As the traditions are being revised and made strange again, they articulate how organic liveliness can resist existing symbolic strains. In a contemporary moment often structured by acceleration, Mai’s practice offers a counter-tempo: one that unfolds in softness, and the quiet charge of looking again, while form, medium, and cultural references are constantly in dialogue. 

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Image caption [from top to bottom]:

Ripe Spring, 2023

Photo of artist in the studio

Detail of the artist’s new work

©Vu Thi Thuy Mai, courtesy of the artist

Edited by Frida Chen in July 2025.