Philippines native brings soulful art to Southwest Virginia
Vall Dino was born in the Philippines and came to America at the age of nine, when his mother married a man from Virginia. One of three children, he and his younger sister left their island home and settled in Smyth County, Virginia, stepping into a world that was entirely new in both language and culture. When Vall entered Sugar Grove Elementary School, he couldn’t speak a word of English. Yet he carried with him a gift that transcended words — a gift that would endear him to countless classmates and, eventually, to an entire region. “I may not have been able to speak to them,” Vall told me during an August 14th telephone interview, “but I could draw them a picture.” That simple statement is more than just a childhood memory; it is a thread that has run through Vall’s life ever since. His artistic ability, once a quiet bridge between him and his peers, has now blossomed into a talent recognized across the Southwest Virginia region. I first met Vall this past winter at The Art Place in Chilhowie. Entering the gallery, I was instantly struck by his work — pieces that seemed to lift images straight from a dream, vivid with color and emotion, and tinged with the smoky shadows of 1940s film noir. That period of American history has always fascinated me, and Vall’s art seemed to capture its essence without imitating it. But more than his technical skill, I was moved by his warmth and kindness, the openness of someone who carries both depth and generosity in equal measure. I was humbled when he presented me with a copy of one of his most celebrated works: a black raven perched on a bare limb, silhouetted against a brilliant red and orange sunset. “The raven represents the darker side of life,” he explained. “It’s a part of all of us. The sunset — with those deep reds and oranges — represents the difficult periods we all go through.” It is a gift I will treasure for the rest of my life. The raven was created as part of a pair, its counterpart a white owl resting against the backdrop of a clear blue sky. “The owl represents the daytime, the lighter side of life,” Vall told me. “I wanted it to be pure white to balance the dark color of the raven.” Though he has not returned to the Philippines to live, the now 28-year-old artist admits he misses its pace of life — and, especially, the family he left behind. “I have way more family in the Philippines than I do here in Virginia,” he said. “I think that’s part of why I paint so much — I miss them, and I miss the life I had on the island.” Vall’s artistic roots stretch back to his childhood there, on his grandparents’ farm. “We would make things from clay,” he recalled. “We’d draw with charcoal and burned wood from the cooking fire. We’d weave art from coconut tree leaves we tied together.” Those early days of improvised creativity were the beginning of a lifelong practice. When Vall entered high school in Smyth County, he began participating in art competitions. “I didn’t win at first,” he reflected. “But over time my passion grew, and I got better at it.” Vall’s first languages were Bisayan and Tagalog, but after years of speaking mostly English, he now finds his native tongue slipping away. “My mother still speaks to me in our language, and I can understand her,” he said. “But I have trouble speaking it now.” Following the death of his stepfather, Vall’s mother remarried and had another daughter, now ten years old. Through the changes in his family life, Vall’s art remained a constant — though he treats it with humility. “Art is always an aside for me,” he said. “I have a full-time job in a factory. I keep art as something I work on until I can save enough to really do something with it.” When asked about his goals as an artist, Vall’s answer is simple: to inspire others. He also values the personal commissions he’s received over the years. “I want to use my art to create self-awareness for people who need it,” he told me. “We all know the mental health struggle is real, and we should use our gifts to help people through it.” His connection with The Art Place in Chilhowie began, as he put it, “out of necessity.” “I’d been looking at The Art Place for a long time, thinking I’d like to display my work there,” he said. “Eventually I worked up the courage to talk to someone, and they let me bring my paintings in. I’ve had several shows there now.” With a warehouse full of paintings and space running low, Vall also approached the gallery about storing some of his work. That decision brought more than storage — it brought community. “I’ve met so many great people there,” he noted. “I wish I’d gone to them sooner.” One of those people is our mutual friend, Liam Besneatte-Cullinane, a fellow artist whose work often uses unconventional materials like newsprint as a base. Where Liam’s palette is more muted and textured, Vall’s style bursts with color, making their work a vivid complement to one another. “Liam and I are planning another art show there in the next couple of months,” Vall said. “We’re looking forward to that — and to more in the future.” As our conversation drew to a close, Vall summed up his philosophy simply: “Art is the expression of the soul. It’s the language we cannot speak.” As we wait to see what new visions his soul will offer us next, I remain grateful for his friendship and for the blessing of knowing someone with such talent and such heart. I am in awe of his gift — and eager to see how his art will continue to illuminate the lives of so many….
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