Tran Tuan has his own painting.
He is courageous, tire some with life and nature.
The horses with manes are blended by the wind. The sky is neither early morning nor sunset.
The cloud doesn’t seem moving, the cloud stays still and looks at earth; the light seem to be fired in desert which doesn’t seem to be deserted.
The Life of Artwork is its own, the wind of his soul blows streaks, streaks move speed life. The long horse are traveler 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 paint, he paints the painting himself.
Hanoi, 05 December 1997
THAI BA VAN
Art Critic
