From pieces of cracked porcelain bowls salvaged from riverbeds or bought from antique dealers, local artisans painstakingly piece together majestic dragons, phoenixes, and mythical creatures that once adorned imperial palaces.
At the heart of this revival is Nguyen Thanh Thuan, a master mosaic artist from Quang Dien, who has spent over 20 years restoring the intricate decorative sculptures on Hue’s historical monuments, including Thai Hoa Palace and Kien Trung Palace. His workshop is a world of silent focus—dozens of hands gluing ancient ceramic shards onto steel-reinforced dragon frames, replicating royal forms with astonishing precision.
In Hue, even broken things are reborn with dignity.
“It’s a calling more than a career,” Thuan shares. Though he once worked outside Hue for higher pay, he always returned to the quiet nobility of restoring imperial relics. “Only here do I feel peace. Seeing my dragons rise again on the roofs of palaces—it’s happiness no money can buy.”
Crafting these mosaic creatures isn’t just about art—it’s also about heritage. Many of the ceramics used are centuries old, sourced from river divers or porcelain hunters who specialize in retrieving antique fragments. Modern ceramics are avoided due to color mismatches; most of the original pieces were imported from China, Japan, and even Europe.
Each sculpture begins with a base made from concrete and steel, shaped by skilled hands. Then comes the slow, deliberate work of breaking, selecting, and assembling hundreds of ceramic pieces, shaping scales, eyes, claws, and horns with nothing but cement, patience, and a trained eye.
A Hue Tradition Rooted in Royalty
According to historical records, Hue’s ceramic mosaic craft dates back to the 18th century, first used in folk structures, then refined for the royal court. Under emperors like Minh Mang, Tu Duc, and Khai Dinh, it evolved into a distinct aesthetic—mixing Chinese and Japanese porcelain with French stained glass to create vibrant, multilayered reliefs of mythical creatures, flowers, and everyday objects.
Today, the craft survives through monument restoration, thanks to artisans who pass their knowledge from father to son—a quietly heroic preservation of a fading royal art. It’s a tradition that doesn’t just restore buildings—it restores stories, symbols, and spiritual legacy.