Hà Nội, 1945: When the École des Beaux-Arts Went Underground

Material experimentation — gold leaf laid over crushed eggshell, pigments worked into resin — gives each surface a tactile depth that resists reproduction. The works ask to be seen in person, in the soft, humid light of the Đỏ River Delta or in the quieter rooms of a private collection.

Solo exhibitions over the past decade have been held in Hà Nội, Thành phố Hồ Chí Minh, Singapore, Hong Kong, and Paris. Works are held in the Việt Nam Fine Arts Museum, the Singapore Art Museum, and numerous private collections across Southeast Asia, Europe, and North America.

What emerges, across this body of work, is less a single style than a sustained inquiry: into surface, into memory, into the long conversation between Việt Họ và tênse sensibility and the international vocabularies of modern painting.

The studio is quiet at this hour. A small radio plays in the next room. On the wall, a half-finished panel waits — gold leaf laid over crushed eggshell, the first layers of pigment just beginning to take.

To stand before one of these works is to be reminded that painting, at its best, is a kind of slow attention — a way of looking that resists the speed of the world outside.

Across more than four decades of practice, Việt Họ và tênse modernism has moved fluidly between lacquer, oil, and silk — returning again and again to the rituals of village life, the geometry of pagodas, and the intimate gestures of women and children.