YOUNG AUSTRALIAN JEWELLER BIC TIEU MIXES INNOVATIVEDESIGN WITH THE CENTURIES-OLD ART OF JAPANESE LACQUER.

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234Jeweller Bic Tieu has something
special she wants to show me.
We’re in Mother Chu’s Vegetarian Kitchen, a haven for adecent feed in the scruffy end of Sydney’s Pitt Street. Afterunpacking tissue paper from a small box, she leans forwardwith purposeful eye contact and holds in her fingertips a ring.
It is exquisite: bold and geometric in form yet organic andgraceful in detail. A filigree basket of foliage in white gold ismounted on a simple band, supporting a bulbous disc bearing
the stylised image of a flower in black and pink. It’s an assertive
presence on the hand, something to be worn with eyes
twinkling to match its circle of black diamonds. It’s also theculmination of two years of intensive learning in the traditional
Japanese lacquer studio of Unryuan Kitamura Tatsuo, and thefirst taste of Tieu’s vision to take this rarefied art form into
uncharted territory.
Tieu is herself an ornament within the cheerfully dogeared restaurant setting: smooth black hair, warm smile andunselfconscious elegance. She explains that she was only
permitted to make the ring after proving her commitment andability to the revered studio master Kitamura Tatsuo.
“After I had made a couple of panel paintings I moved on toa tea caddy, and then from the tea caddy to a box, and for thelast project I was allowed to work on this ring.”
What was her time in Japan like? “Challenging…” Tieu
replies, complete with verbal ellipsis. Her modest list ofprojects hints at how demanding Japanese lacquer, ormakie, is of its artists. While she is hardly the first to face the
Byzantine complexities of moving to Japan – complete with80-page visa application andoverwhelming language and culturalbarriers – few outsiders gain entry to thehighly protected sphere of Japanese artsand she remains the only Western artist
to undertake makie training.
“It feels like a dream, it really does.
I can’t believe I went through it. It was
one of the most difficult things I’ve
done,” she reflects. “I didn’t know how
complex it would be. And it’s sucked me
into this long journey!”It’s a journey that began during
Tieu’s undergraduate studies at theUniversity of New South Wales’ Collegeof Fine Arts when she encounteredphotographs of lacquer works madefor the nobility of the Edo period(1600–1868), makie’s golden age.
They are objects with an immediateseductiveness, while coyly concealing
their true nature to non-initiates.
At first glance, makie can appear to
be intricately wrought gold. If given theopportunity to touch an object, however,
the hands contradict the eyes to reveal
its astonishing lightness and tactile

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51 Bic Tieu applies
lacquer using a
traditional brush.
2 A selection of Tieu’shandiwork.
3 Tieu at work in her
Sydney studio.
4 The lacquer issprinkled withgold dust.
5 Tieru’s diamondand makie ring.
WORDS
Emily Howes
PHOTOGRAPHY
Katie Kaars

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warmth. Derived from a tree sap, makie’s craftsmanship andlustre belie its organic origins.
“The magic of it certainly deepens and increases whenpeople start to understand what a time-consuming andcomplex process it is,” says Lesley Kehoe, influential dealer,scholar and supporter of Japanese art in Australia.
“When you use the word lacquer in English it
immediately gives the impression of a thin surface treatment
to a piece of wood. In Japanese lacquer the wood substrateis the least important part. In most instances it is paper thinor can even be silk, or hessian, or leather. When you holdsmaller pieces up to the light they are often translucent.”
Bewitched by the mystique of this material, Tieu began
simulating its lustre in her jewellery and small objects,
using ebony, acrylic inlay and polished metal. A master’s
degree gave her the opportunity to travel to Vietnam to learn
lacquer techniques for the first time, followed by a Federal
Government grant which took her to Japan, including sometime at Kitamura’s studio in the lacquer centre of Wajima.
This encounter with the traditional studio system cameas quite a shock to Tieu: “I met Kitamura-san and got reallyfreaked out because he was so traditional and strict. Thequestions he asked me,” she adopts the serious tone of themaster, “‘Why are you at my studio? What do you want tobecome? Do you want to become a serious makie artist?
Do you want to use lacquer superficially?’ Big questions thatI found very difficult to answer. It was quite frightening.”
The experience was enough, however, for Tieu to provethat she was indeed serious about her work and it laid thefoundation for a second, more extensive placement withKitamura, this time for two years.
Tieu soon found that there would be no grace period
for the new girl.
“Kitamura said that my lines were really ugly and so
the first four months he made me just draw lines, tracingflowers, birds, trees. I had to do that for eight hours a day,six days a week. I almost went crazy by the end of it!” shesays, laughing.
“He would say, ‘Bic, you need to go out into the realworld and look at these flowers, how they fall from thebranches. You need to capture their sensibility.’”Though such measures may seem excessive, Tieu
believes Kitamura’s insistence on high standards was crucial
to the development of her work.
“I’ve kept all those drawings and I can see how muchfiner, how much more beautiful my lines became.”
Having gained confidence in her brushwork, Tieu waspermitted to begin her training in makie. The strictness andtraditionalism of Kitamura’s studio underpins his ambition
to produce makie of comparable quality to the Edo period.
Essential to this is the revival of the studio system,
involving specialist artisans working together as a team.
Thus the process of Japanese lacquer requires three sets of7“Kitamurabelieves the artof lacquer will
not survive
unless it moves
out of Japan.”

108hands. First, an artisan creates the substrate, then anotherwaterproofs and strengthens it through applying base coats.
Makie is technically the third stage, and translates as ‘sprinkled
picture’ or ‘sprinkling of gold’.
The makie artist plans the design in detail before using abrush to painstakingly sculpt each element with lacquer and dust
the paintwork with gold. It is makie’s requirement of precisionthat makes it one of the most time-consuming art forms. “Mytea caddy took seven months. In an eight-hour day I might havebeen fortunate to finish four or five tiny flowers,” recalls Tieu.
It was Kehoe, Kitamura’s international agent, whoeffectively brokered the residency. “It was a huge and rareopportunity for Bic,” Kehoe enthuses, though there was ahigher objective at play as well.
“I encouraged Kitamura to take her because there aren’t
many Japanese artists doing really interesting contemporary,
cutting-edge work in lacquer. There are negatives associatedwith hundreds of years of tradition. Someone with Westernobjectivity who can see the potential of that material and who
can apply completely different creative concepts to it, I thinkthat’s a very interesting opportunity for the future of lacquer.”
Further support came in the form of financial donations,
including from philanthropist Pauline Gandel whose majorcollection of Japanese lacquer is curated by Kehoe.
“It was a privilege to be able to assist a young Australianartist to take advantage of this unique opportunity,” shesays, commenting that she feels a sense of continuity withthe system of patronage that allowed lacquer to flourish incenturies gone by. “The historical works that I have collectedfor over 25 years now are in my hands because they weresponsored and cherished by generations past. Part of myresponsibility in the 21st century is to make sure those objects
survive for future generations and to support the creation of
their contemporary counterparts.”
Notably, Gandel is also the patron of the new Pauline
Gandel Gallery of Japanese Art at the National Gallery ofVictoria, which ensures permanent public display of a broad
spectrum of Japanese artworks including highlights from her
own collection.
That Tieu represents the future of lacquer is not an
exaggeration, as many Japanese arts face unprecedented
challenges that threaten their survival.
“One of the reasons Bic had such an opportunity is thatKitamura believes that the art of lacquer will not survive unless
it moves out of Japan,” explains Kehoe.
For all his traditionalism Kitamura is revealed as
something of a reformist within Japanese arts. “Kitamura has
been the object of serious criticism from other lacquer artists inJapan for teaching things that should be secret. The tradition in
Japan is the lacquer master keeps secrets unique to that studio,
and if there isn’t a brilliant student or a direct descendent thenthe secrets die with that lacquer master.”Tieu, however, does not see herself as the next Kitamura
Tatsuo. Her interest in lacquer is in its application to her
jewellery, though she does share with her teacher a desire to
make this ancient art viable in the 21st century.

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96 Practice makes
perfect - Tieu’s
early sketches.
7 	Makie has very fine
sculptural properties.
8 Inspiration comesin many forms.

9 	Tieu’s finishedmakie rings.
10 Traditional Japaneselacquer work tools.
11 	A contemporary
application of anancient art.

“My work doesn’t represent
traditional lacquer but it comes fromtraditional lacquer,” she says, “and I’mmaking a tiny contribution to how it
evolves in contemporary society andoutside of Japan.”Her distinctive approach is morethan merely a material hybrid, however.
Combining Japanese lacquer with aWestern concept of contemporary
jewellery also represents a fusion ofcultures. This is significant for Tieu given,
as an Australian of Chinese/Vietnamesedescent, she is herself a cultural fusion.
“It’s a metaphor of who I am,”she affirms. The beginning of Tieu’s
career coincides with the beginningof the Asian century and a growing
acknowledgement of Australia’s need toengage with Asia more deeply.
Thus an artist’s personal journey
becomes an element of another greater
journey that is already under way forus all. 11

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