.jpg?w=1)
.jpg?w=1)
.jpg?w=1)
Lot Essay
MAI THU, LA CLASSE (THE CLASS), 1955
OR THE DELIGHT OF A WORLD WITHOUT HITCH
1955 was a pivotal year for Mai Thu - as painter, as man, and as citizen.
The previous year had been one of intense activity: he exhibited some sixty works at the Galerie de l’Institut in Paris, as well as in Mâcon and Lyon. At home in Vanves, near Paris, he got married. As a citizen, he welcomed both the end of the Indochina War and the ratification of the Geneva Accords.
By then he had lived in France for eighteen years, dividing his life between close friends (notably Le Pho and Vu Cao Dam), exhibitions, and his love of music. In 1956, his personal happiness deepened with the birth of his daughter.
The Class depicts a calligraphy lesson: an elderly teacher and very young students. In his work, Mai Thu often championed Confucian ideals. Unlike many of his fellow students, he did not join the Tự Lực văn đoàn (the Self-Reliant Literary Group ) and its modernist movement in the 1930s.
At the painting’s centre sits the master, elderly and dignified, before a low table, shown in profile. Upon the table, set on a pedestal, is a pot holding brushes and an ink stick. The master, dressed and coiffed in traditional style, instructs a group of fourteen children likewise attired. At first, they appear identical, painted in pale gouache tones with only a few shirts distinguished by colour.
Yet closer observation reveals differences and individuality in faces, hands, and posture. The students’ concentrated, even anxious expressions reflect both the difficulty of their task and the severity of their teacher. Their emotions range from curiosity to distraction, from effort to unity. In the foreground, one child folds his arms in tense stillness, while two others carefully prepare tea for their teacher.
Objects and subjects alike are devoted to the cult of knowledge. It resides not only in the teacher and his pupils, but in the objects that surround them: books and brushes, table and pot. More subtly, it lies in the stove, teapot, fan, cup, and saucer - the implements for tea, the master’s stimulant.
The painter restricts the setting to essentials: a neutral wash background, with no decorative backdrop, the atmosphere is austere, almost mineral - like the discipline of learning knowledge itself.
A beautiful frame, designed by the artist, encloses the work. Beyond classic scrolls, he painted two vases filled with flowers - symbols of prosperity and fortune - and two paired scrolls, one traditionally representing painting and the other calligraphy, underscoring their material and spiritual union.
Thus in 1955, Mai Thu offers a tender vision of a world where the only tension is that of intellectual effort. Ten years after the end of World War II, he conveys a discreet serenity.
And yet a question lingers: how many of these young students will master the art of calligraphy?
The master’s reply is gentle: it does not matter. In a flawless world, learning itself should be pure pleasure.
Jean-François Hubert
Senior Expert, Art of Vietnam
OR THE DELIGHT OF A WORLD WITHOUT HITCH
1955 was a pivotal year for Mai Thu - as painter, as man, and as citizen.
The previous year had been one of intense activity: he exhibited some sixty works at the Galerie de l’Institut in Paris, as well as in Mâcon and Lyon. At home in Vanves, near Paris, he got married. As a citizen, he welcomed both the end of the Indochina War and the ratification of the Geneva Accords.
By then he had lived in France for eighteen years, dividing his life between close friends (notably Le Pho and Vu Cao Dam), exhibitions, and his love of music. In 1956, his personal happiness deepened with the birth of his daughter.
The Class depicts a calligraphy lesson: an elderly teacher and very young students. In his work, Mai Thu often championed Confucian ideals. Unlike many of his fellow students, he did not join the Tự Lực văn đoàn (the Self-Reliant Literary Group ) and its modernist movement in the 1930s.
At the painting’s centre sits the master, elderly and dignified, before a low table, shown in profile. Upon the table, set on a pedestal, is a pot holding brushes and an ink stick. The master, dressed and coiffed in traditional style, instructs a group of fourteen children likewise attired. At first, they appear identical, painted in pale gouache tones with only a few shirts distinguished by colour.
Yet closer observation reveals differences and individuality in faces, hands, and posture. The students’ concentrated, even anxious expressions reflect both the difficulty of their task and the severity of their teacher. Their emotions range from curiosity to distraction, from effort to unity. In the foreground, one child folds his arms in tense stillness, while two others carefully prepare tea for their teacher.
Objects and subjects alike are devoted to the cult of knowledge. It resides not only in the teacher and his pupils, but in the objects that surround them: books and brushes, table and pot. More subtly, it lies in the stove, teapot, fan, cup, and saucer - the implements for tea, the master’s stimulant.
The painter restricts the setting to essentials: a neutral wash background, with no decorative backdrop, the atmosphere is austere, almost mineral - like the discipline of learning knowledge itself.
A beautiful frame, designed by the artist, encloses the work. Beyond classic scrolls, he painted two vases filled with flowers - symbols of prosperity and fortune - and two paired scrolls, one traditionally representing painting and the other calligraphy, underscoring their material and spiritual union.
Thus in 1955, Mai Thu offers a tender vision of a world where the only tension is that of intellectual effort. Ten years after the end of World War II, he conveys a discreet serenity.
And yet a question lingers: how many of these young students will master the art of calligraphy?
The master’s reply is gentle: it does not matter. In a flawless world, learning itself should be pure pleasure.
Jean-François Hubert
Senior Expert, Art of Vietnam