A child selects a kylin mask and an Ong dia (Earth God) mask at Lam Thi Hien’s shop in the Mekong Delta city of Can Tho

Kylin mask artists pass the secrets of their craft down through the generations.

“The family’s secrets have been passed down for three generations,” he says. “We gather to make the masks together every Lunar New Year and Mid-Autumn Festival season.”

Artisans throughout the southland, particularly in Ho Chi Minh City and Can Tho City in the Mekong Delta, make the masks as toys for children.

The masks are smaller versions of the heads used in kylin dancing.

Kylins, known as lan in Vietnamese, are mythical four-legged hoofed creatures that have dragon-like faces.

The kylin is one of the four most sacred animals in Vietnamese culture alongside the long (dragon), quy (tortoise) and phung (phoenix).

Brought to Vietnam by Chinese art troupes during the Later Le dynasty in the 15th-18th centuries, kylin dancing looks like dragon and lion dancing, with several members of a dance troupe dressing up as one beast to dance on the street and perform tricks on stilts.

The drum-fueled dance is part of traditional holiday and festival celebrations in the country’s Chinese-Vietnamese communities, particularly for the Tet Lunar New Year and the Mid Autumn Festival.

Like many revered creatures in Vietnam and China, kylins are believed to bring prosperity, happiness and good fortune.

HCMC’s Cho Lon (Big market) quarter, otherwise known as Chinatown, is considered the country’s kylin mask capital.

More than 50 Cho Lon shops in District 5 specialize in making and selling kylin masks, expecially on Trieu Quang Phuc and Luong Nhu Hoc streets as well as District 10’s nearby Nguyen Chi Thanh Street.

The craft is also popular throughout the Mekong Delta, home to a large portion of Vietnam’s Chinese-Vietnamese community.

Color code

Nhut says color-mixing is the greatest of most kylin families’ secrets.

“We have our own special way of combing different hues to make our own colors. We mix seven colors to produce what we call pure red,” says Nhut at his Lao Tu Street in District 5.

Nhut’s family is known for making some of the most brightly-colored kylin masks in town.

He says great care has to be taken to create his family’s special colors that don’t fade under any weather conditions.

Lam Thi Hien, a kylin mask maker in the Mekong Delta city of Can Tho, says decorating the kylin is the most difficult part of making the toys.

“The color combinations need to be harmonious so the masks don’t look too gaudy – they’re supposed to represent the animal’s strength.”

Handmade hair, eyes, eyelashes and eyebrows among and other details are also usually glued onto kylin masks, which can even wink and blink as well as raise their nostrils and ears.

Makers like Nhut and Hien do everything manually, no machines, no factories.

A family thing

The art was handed down to Hien from her father, who was a member of a famous kylin dancing troupe in the city decades ago.

He had fallen in love with the sacred animal as a child and taught himself to make the kylin masks as a young boy.

Hien’s deaf-mute 32-year-old daughter, Lam Thi Ngoc Ngan, has also followed in her grandfather and mother’s footsteps.

Along with her husband and three other children, Hien peddles the masks on a small cart along Can Tho City streets and even in neighboring provinces.

Hua Huu Sang, a Nguyen Chi Thanh Street kylin maker in HCMC, also learned this craft from his father and is imparting the skills to his children.

“My children set aside all their free time to join me during the peak kylin season,” he says.

Not about money

Hien says her family has relied on traditional secrets to make their living for years.

On good days, Hien says she sells several kylin sets, which include a kylin mask, Ong dia (God of Earth) mask – a round, smiling man, representing earthly prosperity and wealth, that dances around the kylin, conducting the drums that drive the dance.

On such days, Hien says she earns a few million dong.

But on a bad day, her profit margins can dip to a few thousand dong or even nothing. Still, she knows how much small gifts mean to poor children in the delta, so she often sells masks at or below cost to poor families and workers she knows.

“Most kids here just love kylin dancing and want to have a mask of their own.”

Her masks are popular and she says she’s fine with her meager earnings.

Sang says that although the art doesn’t bring in much money, “it’s spiritually rewarding and has immense traditional value.”

Reported by Diem Thu