IN THIS WORLD OF HYPERBOLE, a writer hesitates to use superlatives. Nowadays, saying something is the best, ingenious, fabulous, fantastic and so on seems to automatically heighten people’s scepticism. Yet “prodigy” is the first word that comes to mind when one wants to speak of Dawn Kwan.

Looking at Dawn’s paintings, you get a sense of passion and a huge joy for life in the large brushstrokes and bright colours, but there is also a sense of control in the sophisticated choices and the obvious restraint evident in the strokes that form the shapes and, most importantly, the textures that are fast becoming one of her trademarks.

Yet upon meeting her, there is nary a hint of the fine painter that Dawn is becoming. Instead of the laughing, animated girl one might expect, Dawn is surprisingly reserved. Dressed in black leggings and a loose white tunic, she hovers in the background behind her mother, Swee Lin.

Under Swee Lin’s encouragement, Dawn begins the interview shyly, speaking in monosyllables before gradually opening up, though never quite making it to the pages and pages of chatter that an obviously mistaken writer expected while glancing through the prolific number of paintings by the young artist.

Yet there is something restful and charming in her hesitant smile and quicksilver laugh, gone in a flash; something touching about the way the unassuming and polite young girl shoots occasional fleeting glances at her mother who has retreated a short distance away to give her a measure of space and independence.

The story of Dawn Kwan Ning Yu the artist prodigy – Dawn for the first strength of the sun and Ning Yu for peaceful treasure – began at age five. Swee Lin notes that Dawn began drawing and sketching and was unable to stop. Dawn confirms this when she reveals that she draws and paints as a form of relaxation, even during the examination period.

At that young age, her paintings were already drawing attention and Swee Lin decided that this was a gift from God to be used to help those less fortunate. Dawn’s first three paintings were auctioned off at $15,000 and all the proceeds were donated to a charity that helps Vietnamese children with harelip and clubfoot problems get the proper treatment.

Dawn knows of this, but it seems to matter little to her except that she was able to help the poor and needy. She says, “It was my mum’s idea but I think it’s a good idea because I have an opportunity to make a difference. I can donate money and help some people to get the operations they need.”