Tran Tuan has own painting, he is courageous, tire some with life and nature.
The horses with manes are blend by wind. The sky is neither early morning nor sunset.
The cloud doesn’t fly, the cloud looks at earth, the light seem to be fired in desert, the desert isn’t desert.
Picture’s life is its own, the wind of his soul bliwer streaks, streaks move speed life. The long horse are
treveller in the sand.
Tran Tuan’s painting breath is generous, open.
Tran Tuan’s painting horizon is far- away. It is neither attractive any one nor bored any- one.
Cezanne said: “What does the artist daw, he draws painting it self.”
Hanoi, 05 December 1997.
THAI BA VAN.
Art Criti
