Painter Nguyen Huu Dy - The Turmoils of Life

(Baonghean) - He stands out from the crowd because of his distinctive appearance: his hair in a bun, a long, flowing beard, and... a floral shirt. His inseparable companions for many years have been his traditional pipe and a thermos of liquor. All of these have become his "Made in HuZy" trademark, as evidenced by his signature under each photograph he takes and each painting he creates. Yet, behind that seemingly carefree, bohemian, and somewhat detached exterior lies a wealth of warmth, deep concerns, and an astonishing seriousness.

Artist Nguyen Huu Dy

I first met Nguyen Huu Dy, perhaps five or seven years ago. He sat thoughtfully in a quiet café, listening to Trinh Cong Son's music on guitar. His handshake seemed indifferent, his smile tinged with arrogance; after my friend introduced him, "This is the teacher and painter Nguyen Huu Dy," he made me momentarily hesitant. Then, very quickly, stories about Trinh Cong Son's music and the longing for home drew us closer. He no longer remembers that meeting, but later, when I had many opportunities to sit with him, I never forgot the café called "Rainy Forest," and the melancholic music that day showed me one thing: behind what we "think" there may very well be something very different.

That's right, one might think Nguyen Huu Dy was "eccentric," but he was very sociable; one might think he was "arrogant," but he was actually very affectionate; one might think he was "excessive," but he was actually quite moderate. He made everyone laugh with his wit and quiet demeanor. He was ready to sing, ready to drink until the very end of the drinking session, "yet you rarely see him drunk" (as photographer Cao Dong, his friend, asserted). He calmly exhaled smoke into the air, surrounded by various types of pipes (he always had at least three pipes in his car). He calmly sat amidst the festivities, drawing something on his iPad, surprising everyone with the inexplicable beauty of the shapes and colors. That's it, Nguyen Huu Dy was always captivated by colors. His perspective on life was also like that, in shades of color… Black, gray, and even red, representing sadness. The surging blue of joy. The yellow of desolation and quiet… That’s why, after becoming a lecturer in the Literature department of a university and a member of the Vietnam Linguistics Association, he suddenly changed course to study at the Yet Kieu Fine Arts University and then returned to teach Fine Arts. He said: “There will come a time when people suddenly realize they cannot ignore their childhood dreams.”

Born into a family of eight children, with no one else pursuing art, Nguyen Huu Dy was fascinated by drawing and sculpting from a young age. When asked about his hometown, he said it was the place where people "ate until they were full, waiting for the Phu Trich ferry" - a small village on the southern bank of the Gianh River in Quang Trach (Quang Binh province). That river and that folk song haunted him throughout his life, encapsulating all the bittersweet memories of his childhood. Now, the Quang Hai bridge connects the two banks of his hometown, but back then, the Phu Trich ferry crossing was famous for the long waits. "My hometown carries the profound sadness of a time of separation," Nguyen Huu Dy recalled. On the riverbank of his hometown, young Nguyen Huu Dy witnessed the most peaceful and beautiful days, as well as the most painful ones. “Back then, the Phu Trich ferry landing had rows of banyan trees casting their shade over the Gianh River. My older sister and her friends from the neighborhood often went there to wash clothes. In the distance, naval ships rested peacefully on the water. The naval soldiers, dressed in white uniforms, stood on the decks, singing and teasing the women. The songs and calls echoed along the river. The children, including me, would often stand there, mesmerized, listening to the singing and giggling. Until the war broke out, that peaceful scene vanished. I felt it dissolved like a dream. The ships sailed upstream. One day, I was tending the cows when I saw American planes circling overhead. A ship was heading towards the riverbank, but it couldn't make it through the frenzied bombing. The ship slowly sank to the bottom of the river, to the stunned astonishment of the young cowherd…”

I see that cowherd boy very clearly in a painting recently done by Nguyen Huu Dy, commemorating the 50th anniversary of the first escalation of American bombing in North Vietnam (August 5, 1964). The painting, titled "My Childhood," expresses the hope that all children on this earth will not have to endure the horrors of war. It depicts fighter planes hurtling through the air, boys with their hands outstretched in bewilderment, and stylized buffalo horns curving upwards like question marks… The colors in the painting are also very unusual. They transform into streaks of light, expressing madness, pain, and astonishment.

Nguyen Huu Dy recounts that his favorite childhood gift was the clay figurines called "to he." He was captivated by these whimsical, colorful figurines, skillfully crafted by folk artisans. He says he realized his passion for painting began with those figurines. And, to satisfy his hobby, only his brother-in-law had the "patience, understanding, and... money" to help. His brother-in-law not only bought him the figurines but also went to great lengths to find wax and clay for him to practice sculpting. Throughout his school years, Nguyen Huu Dy also had opportunities to showcase his talent by drawing for school bulletin boards. The drawing he remembers most vividly is a picture of President Ho Chi Minh and lotus flowers on a small piece of cloth, which he asked his teacher to include in his application for an art school. He poured so much passion and his dreams into the drawing, but he doesn't know where it was sent. Having received no response from art schools, he applied to and was admitted to the Faculty of Literature at Vinh University in 1972. After graduating, he was retained by the university as a lecturer in the Language Department of the Faculty of Literature. In 1987, he applied to and was admitted to the Faculty of Painting at the Hanoi University of Fine Arts. After graduating, he transferred to the Faculty of Primary Education, teaching art to students at Vinh University.

"Sunrise on the Con River" (Lacquer painting - provided by the subject)

Even while studying Fine Arts, Nguyen Huu Dy had works exhibited at national exhibitions. These included the silk painting "Fish Market" (depicting a fish market in Cat Ba) and the woodcut "Old Path" (based on the poetic theme "Old path, carriages and horses, autumn grasses" by Mrs. Thanh Quan when she visited Quan Thanh Temple in Hanoi). In addition, Nguyen Huu Dy has many other works that have made their mark at national and regional exhibitions, such as "Epic Song" (mixed media), "Cuong Temple Festival" (silk), "Returning Home" (silk), and "My Footprints" (oil painting).

Nguyen Huu Dy creates works using a variety of materials, he says, even spray paint gives him unexpected creative inspiration. His recurring theme is war and peace. It seems he hasn't yet fully grasped the message he wants to convey through these two opposing themes.

He is often seen in the guise of a wandering artist. Yes, he is a wanderer, searching for the colors of life. His paintings depict many different places. The photographs he takes, the memories he shares with friends on Facebook, also reflect this nomadic lifestyle: one moment he's in Hue, the next in Hanoi, then Thanh Hoa, and finally sitting and smoking a cigarette atop Noong De mountain (Ky Son). Fate brought him to and kept him in Nghe An. He says he has been connected to Vinh for over 40 years; Vinh is his flesh and blood, giving him another homeland. This city, so full of affection, gave him a wife, a home, and close friends. Through joyful gatherings, shared drinks, and shared joys and sorrows, Nguyen Huu Dy, in the eyes of his friends, is a man who is "thoughtful and responsible to life and to his friends." To his students, Nguyen Huu Dy is a talented, approachable, and respected teacher.

I once sat with him at gatherings with his friends—people with whom he had remained loyal for many years, sharing a sense of familiarity and mutual respect. It felt as though they were soaring together. When I expressed this feeling to him, Nguyen Huu Dy smiled and said, “What is love…?” I think I understood, to some extent, the profound meaning behind his words. For a wanderer like Nguyen Huu Dy, finding a place to anchor his soul and emotions was incredibly precious.

Artist Le Thanh Duc, a longtime friend of painter Nguyen Huu Dy, and the same guitarist who used to play at the "Rainy Forest" cafe, still sits with his guitar in a corner of the cafe. Whenever he sees Huu Dy quietly coming to the cafe to listen to music, Le Thanh Duc dedicates his guitar rendition of "Quang Binh, My Homeland!" to his friend. They don't need to shake hands; they simply greet each other in this way, sharing understanding, love, and gratitude. And Nguyen Huu Dy, in that small corner of the cafe, with his seemingly "arrogant" topknot and beard, is deeply moved. And it seems that this feeling is similar to the sensation I experienced when standing before his lacquer painting "Sunrise on the Con River." In the fresh, tranquil, yet radiant light of dawn, a small boat sways on the water, both lonely and yet powerful…

Thuy Vinh