A single flutist moves across a red field under a round moon, her áo dài and veils rendered as stratified planes of lacquer that catch on seams of gold. The composition compresses depth, privileging contour, pattern, and reflected light. Buried tones emerge through cut back layers and polish, so the garment reads like shifting air. The circular moon locks the image, balancing the diagonal sweep of the figure and turning reflection into the work’s structural rhythm.

The painting distills Thao Huynh’s practice. Trained in Vietnamese lacquer and focused on contemporary portrayals of women, she uses process to script mood with restraint rather than spectacle. The instrument suggests breath and cadence, the gold leaf acts as a native light source, and the red ground anchors the scene in clarity. Technique and theme converge, presenting a modern, poised image grounded in tradition.