July - August '08 / September '08 / October '08 /
Human Condition August 29 - September 27, 2008
Opening Reception Friday August 29th 7 PM- 10 PM
The Human Condition
Vrnda Noel is the mother of Elijah Wright who is a Sergeant Combat Medic Veteran stationed in Iraq. When he was deployed, she made him promise to write of his experiences in vivid detail. Being a medic, he had to address the full physical as well as psychological effects of battle. His writing helped him process the trauma of war. The tales he sent his mother were so intense that when she shared them with friends who are Vietnam War veterans, they shook their heads in amazement at the explicit quality of his writing. The deployment of her son was traumatic for Vrnda, and has inspired her to dedicate her life to speaking out for families against our current war. In turn, Elijah has been moved to tell the stories of what is really happening in Iraq, stories which our media is not reflecting.
She is extraordinary in that she has a strong compassion for mothers on both sides of the conflict. She understands that it matters not if a mother is from America or Iraq, when her son is put in such extreme danger it feels as if her womb is being torn out. I met her at a demonstration against the war, where she was speaking with a passion only a mother could possess. Struck by the expressive qualities demonstrated in her speech, I was inspired to reflect the wide range of emotions experienced by a mother whose son is in battle; fear, apprehension, anger, hope, and love.
This series of pencil and water media paintings are laid down on matt board that has been collaged with shot-gunned canvasses and then burnt by laying hot coals atop. The destructive process reflects the violence of war. I aspired to manifest the delicacy of Vrnda’s features and her embodiment of the full range of human emotions in regards to having a son consumed by war.
Many times I have heard the Iraq war compared to the American war in Vietnam. I started visiting Vietnam in 1990, when the country was in the throes of severe depression that was the product of four consecutive wars; with the French, Americans, Cambodians then Chinese. At that time, people were literally starving to death in the streets. Everyone I met there had a story of tremendous hardship due to the wars. However, the prevalent attitude of the Vietnamese is very wise and forward looking. They feel a compassion for American vets as they understand that war is a conflict between governments, not individuals. Most extraordinary is their vast conception of time. Where we in the west are aware of only a few generations, the Vietnamese recognize a very long generational chain that stretches over centuries. They are some of the most resilient and resourceful people I’ve met. Working steadily towards building a better life for future generations, they do not dwell in the negativity of the past as many Americans do in regards to the war fought over a generation ago. Their commitment to rebuilding their country is demonstrated very clearly today as Vietnam has emerged as one of the most thriving economic centers of Southeast Asia.
The series, Nga in Tru Vu’s Garden, started as an edition of lithographs that were buried, either in the ground or in layers of paint, to obscure the original portrait of Nga. Working back into the drawings, I wanted to bring out essential qualities of the portrait as a reflection of the steadfast resilience demonstrated by the Vietnamese through the direst of circumstance.
While this kind of attitude is admirable, the role of women is one that I’ve found to be frustrating. It is improving; one friend described how the communist era has brought opportunities for education and career that were not enjoyed by women before. In fact, she described the social standing of women up until now as having been below livestock. While it is an exciting time for the emergence of women, the prevailing attitude from many men is still low. As one of my father’s students put it, “In Vietnam, we like our women to stay below the man”.
While creating the portraits of Nga, I was thinking a lot about the resilience and emergence of women. Her husband is one of the few men there who recognize worth in women and encourages her to excel in whatever it is she chooses to do. A soft spoken but strong willed lady, Nga owns and manages an English language private school in Saigon. She is steadfast and forward looking, placing most of her energy in the future generations by focusing on the development of their son, Bao. Even while she demonstrates her capabilities, she gets frustrated by the strict social structures dictated by a deeply rooted Confucian belief system. Reflecting this prevalent and negative attitude, the portraits are hard to discern, often lacking a mouth, to reflect the silenced and invisible quality imposed on women as a whole.
War-I_02 Combat Medic’s mom – pencil, blood, shotgunned canvas & raw silk that has been burnt with coals – 11” x 14” – 7.8 - $275. unframed
War-I_03 Combat Medic’s mom – pencil, blood, shotgunned canvas & raw silk that has been burnt with coals – 11” x 14” – 7.8 - $275. unframed
War-I_04 Combat Medic’s mom – pencil, blood, shotgunned canvas & raw silk that has been burnt with coals – 11” x 14” – 7.8 - $275. unframed
War-I_05 Combat Medic’s mom – pencil, blood, shotgunned canvas & raw silk that has been burnt with coals – 11” x 14” – 7.8 - $275. unframed
VN-LII_03'61ev Nga in Tru Vu's Garden – Saigon, Vietnam - litho monotype with acrylic, pencil, watercolor and spraypaint - 11" x 7.5" – 8.8 - $125 unframed
VN-LII_06'61ev Nga in Tru Vu's Garden – Saigon, Vietnam - litho monotype with acrylic, watercolor, oil pastel and spraypaint - 11" x 7.5" – 8.8 - $125 unframed
VN-LII_14'61ev Nga in Tru Vu's Garden – Saigon, Vietnam - litho monotype with acrylic, tea stains, oil pastel, gold sparkles and lace - 11" x 7.5" – 8.8 - $125 unframed
VN-LII_20'61ev Nga in Tru Vu's Garden – Saigon, Vietnam - litho monotype with gouache, oil pastel, pencil and watercolor - 11" x 7.5" – 8.8 - $125 unframed
VN-LII_21'61ev Nga in Tru Vu's Garden – Saigon, Vietnam - litho monotype with acrylic, gouache, oil pastel, pencil and watercolor - 11" x 7.5" – 8.8 - $125 unframed
VN-LII_22'61ev Nga in Tru Vu's Garden – Saigon, Vietnam - litho monotype with acrylic, gouache, oil pastel, pencil and watercolor - 11" x 7.5" – 8.8 - $125 unframed
VN-LII_26'61ev Nga in Tru Vu's Garden – Saigon, Vietnam - litho monotype with acrylic, tea stains, pencil, oil pastel, watercolor and lace - 11" x 7.5" – 8.8 - $125 unframed
VN-LII_28'61ev Nga in Tru Vu's Garden – Saigon, Vietnam - litho monotype with acrylic, pencil, oil pastel, watercolor and lace - 11" x 7.5" – 8.8 - $125 unframed
VN-LII_50'61ev Nga in Tru Vu's Garden - Vietnam - litho monotype with acrylic, watercolor and pencil - 11" x 7.5" – 8.8 - $125 unframed
and the expanded writing in regards to these portraits:
Many times I have heard the Iraq war compared to the American war in Vietnam. I started visiting Vietnam in 1990, when the country was in the throes of severe depression that was the product of four consecutive wars; with the French, Americans, Cambodians then Chinese. At that time, people were literally starving to death in the streets. Everyone I met there had a story of tremendous hardship due to the wars. However, the prevalent attitude of the Vietnamese is very wise and forward looking. They feel a compassion for American vets as they understand that war is a conflict between governments, not individuals. Most extraordinary is their vast conception of time. Where we in the west are often aware of only a few generations, the Vietnamese recognize a very long generational chain that stretches over centuries. They are some of the most resilient and resourceful people I’ve met. Working steadily towards building a better life for future generations, they do not dwell in the negativity of the past as many Americans do in regards to our war fought over a generation ago. Their commitment to rebuilding their country is demonstrated very clearly today as Vietnam has emerged as one of the most thriving economic centers of Southeast Asia.
The series, Nga in Tru Vu’s Garden, started as an edition of lithographs that were buried, either in the ground or in layers of paint, to obscure the original portrait of Nga. Working back into the drawings, I wanted to bring out essential qualities of the portrait as a reflection of the steadfast resilience demonstrated by the Vietnamese through the direst of circumstance.
While this kind of attitude is admirable, the role of women is one that I’ve found to be frustrating. It is improving; one friend described how the communist era has brought opportunities for education and career that were not enjoyed by women before. In fact, she described the social standing of women up until now as having been below livestock. While it is an exciting time for the emergence of women, the prevailing attitude from many men is still low. As one of my father’s students put it, “In Vietnam, we like our women to stay below the man”.
While creating the portraits of Nga, I was thinking a lot about the resilience and emergence of women. Her husband is one of the few men there who recognize worth in women and encourages her to excel in whatever it is she chooses to do. A soft spoken but strong willed lady, Nga owns and manages an English language private school in Saigon. She is steadfast and forward looking, placing most of her energy in the future generations by focusing on the development of their son, Bao. Even while she demonstrates her capabilities, she gets frustrated by the strict social structures dictated by a deeply rooted Confucian belief system. Reflecting this prevalent and negative attitude, the portraits are hard to discern, often lacking a mouth, to reflect the silenced and invisible quality imposed on women as a whole.
