![\"Christie's](\"https:\/\/boitran.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/06\/IMG_1084-2.jpg\")
\n\t\t![\"Boi](\"https:\/\/boitran.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/06\/IMG_3231.jpg\")
\n\t\tBoi Tran: “Le R\u00eave Qui Veille” (The Watchful Dream)<\/p>\n\tCh\u1eb3ng c\u00f3 \u0111\u1ecba \u0111i\u1ec3m n\u00e0o kh\u00f4ng c\u00f3 l\u1ecbch s\u1eed.
\nCh\u1eb3ng c\u00f3 l\u1ecbch s\u1eed n\u00e0o kh\u00f4ng c\u00f3 \u0111\u1ecba \u0111i\u1ec3m.
\nC\u00f3 nh\u1eefng \u0111\u1ecba \u0111i\u1ec3m kh\u00f4ng \u0111o \u0111\u1ea1c, nh\u1eefng l\u1ecbch s\u1eed ngo\u00e0i v\u00f2ng th\u1eddi gian.
\nNh\u1eefng kho\u1ea3nh kh\u1eafc cao sang v\u00e0 nh\u1eefng n\u01a1i ch\u1ed1n kh\u00f4ng ai bi\u1ebft.
\nNh\u1eefng m\u1ea9u thi\u00ean thu v\u00e0 nh\u1eefng m\u01a1 m\u00e0ng ng\u1eaft qu\u00e3ng.\n
Mu\u1ed1n nghi\u1ec7m l\u1ea1i m\u00e0 xem, n\u00ean bi\u1ebft \u0111\u1ebfn B\u1ed9i Tr\u00e2n.<\/p>\nPh\u1ea3i ch\u0103ng l\u00e0 d\u00e0nh cho B\u1ed9i Tr\u00e2n m\u00e0 Ng\u00f4 Ch\u00e2n L\u01b0u (933 \u2013 1011) t\u1eeb m\u1ed9t ti\u1ec1n ki\u1ebfp n\u00e0o \u0111\u00e3 h\u1ea1 b\u00fat:
\n“Nothing begins, nothing ends
\nCh\u1ec9 c\u00f3 ch\u00e2n kh\u00f4ng l\u00e0 tuy\u1ec7t \u0111\u1ed1i
\nCh\u00e2n l\u00fd c\u1ea7n n\u00ean hi\u1ec3u
\nIs that all things are of the same nature.”?\n
Ch\u1eb3ng c\u00f3 ngh\u1ec7 s\u0129 n\u00e0o kh\u00f4ng nh\u1eadn \u0111\u01b0\u1ee3c \u00c2n S\u1ee7ng, ch\u1eb3ng c\u00f3 \u0111\u1ecba ch\u1ea5n \u0111\u1ed3 n\u00e0o kh\u00f4ng \u0111i \u0111\u00f4i v\u1edbi h\u1ecfa di\u1ec7m s\u01a1n.<\/p>\n
Boi Tran knows that passion, this peppery spice of time, reveals the flavours of life but that the suffering which it engenders offers more slumber without night than nights without sleep.\u00a0She lives and paints in her magic Thien An garden in Hue, proud but comforting, where the wind frightens the centuries-old pine trees, and the bashful, even prudish, flowers triumph over the rain. A place where Time’s machine, this thief of joys, arrests itself… from time to time for the greatest happiness of the visitor.<\/p>\n\u0110\u1eb7ng Dung (m\u1ea5t n\u0103m 1414) t\u1eebng vi\u1ebft:
\n“The world is full of trouble, how can one age?
\nTr\u1eddi \u0111\u1ea5t v\u00f4 l\u01b0\u1ee3ng trong kh\u00fac hoan ca
\nG\u1eb7p may k\u1ebb h\u00e8n k\u1ebb h\u1ea1 \u0111\u1eafc th\u1ebf
\nIn inimical times the hero drinks his bitterness.”\n
The artist has no choice other than his work, but perhaps Boi Tran had even less choice than others.\u00a0Less choice because war, loneliness and bereavement, all experienced by her to the utmost, have hollowed out her life: the artist, the true artist, is always a hero. Her fate belongs to her, but it unites the messengers of Liberty: “If you paint you die, if you do not paint you die, so paint and die.”<\/p>\n
L\u00e0m ngh\u1ec7 s\u0129 ch\u1eb3ng ph\u1ea3i l\u00e0 m\u1ed9t thi\u00ean ch\u1ee9c, nh\u01b0ng l\u00e0 m\u1ed9t s\u1ef1 bu\u1ed9c m\u00ecnh. H\u1ecda s\u0129 bi\u1ebft r\u1eb1ng ch\u1eb3ng c\u00f3 g\u00ec tr\u01b0\u1eddng c\u1eedu cho b\u1eb1ng t\u01b0\u01a1ng lai: khi B\u1ed9i Tr\u00e2n v\u1ebd tranh, n\u00e0ng ch\u1eb3ng n\u00f3i v\u1edbi ch\u00fang ta nh\u1eefng g\u00ec n\u00e0ng bi\u1ebft, n\u00e0ng ph\u00f4 b\u00e0y nh\u1eefng g\u00ec n\u00e0ng th\u1ea5y. Ph\u00e9p thu\u1eadt c\u1ee7a ng\u01b0\u1eddi ngh\u1ec7 s\u0129 bi\u1ebfn ch\u00fang ta th\u00e0nh g\u01b0\u01a1ng soi b\u1ea3n th\u00e2n.<\/p>\nNguy\u1ec5n Gia Thi\u1ec1u (1741 \u2013 1798) c\u00f3 vi\u1ebft:
\n“The bitter earthly taste benumbs our tongue,
\n\u0110\u01b0\u1eddng th\u1ebf \u0111\u1ed3 g\u00f3t r\u1ed5 khi khu.
\nS\u00f3ng c\u1ed3n c\u1eeda b\u1ec3 nh\u1ea5p nh\u00f4,
\nBoat-like foam battles the immense sea.”\n
C\u00f3 hai lo\u1ea1i ngh\u1ec7 s\u0129 v\u00e0 ch\u1ec9 hai m\u00e0 th\u00f4i: lo\u1ea1i mu\u1ed1n xoay chuy\u1ec3n cu\u1ed9c \u0111\u1eddi v\u00e0 lo\u1ea1i mu\u1ed1n \u0111\u1eddi ch\u1ea5p nh\u1eadn h\u1ecd.<\/p>\n
Ch\u1ee7 \u0111\u1ed9ng hay th\u1ee5 \u0111\u1ed9ng? Chinh ph\u1ee5c hay ph\u1ee5c t\u00f9ng?<\/p>\n
B\u1ed9i Tr\u00e2n mu\u1ed1n \u0111\u1eddi ch\u1ea5p nh\u1eadn m\u00ecnh nh\u01b0ng ch\u1ee7 \u0111\u1ed9ng v\u00e0 chinh ph\u1ee5c, th\u1ee5 \u0111\u1ed9ng hay ph\u1ee5c t\u00f9ng l\u00e0 nh\u1eefng t\u1eeb kh\u00f4ng thu\u1ed9c ng\u00f4n ng\u1eef c\u1ee7a n\u00e0ng.<\/p>\n
B\u1ea1n kh\u00f4ng tin \u01b0?<\/p>\n
Look at her from afar… proudly wearing her ao dai, offering to the proximate world the most beautiful smile on earth, one of those smiles that never disappears from your memory especially if it accompanied by a look so soft, full of questioning and goodwill, so noble and so simple at the same time. Looks that, at the time, give you the feeling that you are unique.<\/p>\n
B\u1ed9i Tr\u00e2n l\u00e0 ng\u01b0\u1eddi vinh danh nh\u1eefng gi\u00e1 tr\u1ecb c\u1ee7a Vi\u1ec7t Nam.<\/p>\n
She knows, since her birth, that noise does little good and the good makes little noise.\u00a0The noises of bombs, bullets, mines, are not an abstraction for her, a cinema project or a pretext to a musical accompaniment.\u00a0Her body and her soul have survived all wars, just or unjust.\u00a0Honesty and simplicity have triumphed over hatred and mistrust.\u00a0Boi Tran’s paintings are suffused with a soft but wild energy.\u00a0Her paintings are an ode to elegance and immanence.<\/p>\n
Hai nh\u00e0 th\u01a1 l\u1edbn, qua \u0111\u1eddi qu\u00e1 s\u1edbm, nh\u01b0 con trai Ngh\u0129a c\u1ee7a n\u1eef h\u1ecda s\u0129, \u0111\u00e3 di\u1ec5n \u0111\u1ea1t tr\u1ecdn v\u1eb9n \u0111i\u1ec1u v\u1eeba n\u00f3i:<\/p>\n
H\u00e0n M\u1ea1c T\u1eed (1912 \u2013 1940) \u0111\u00e3 d\u00f9ng \u0111\u01b0\u1ee3c nh\u1eefng l\u1eddi n\u00f3i l\u00ean c\u00e1i th\u1ea3ng th\u1ed1t c\u1ee7a ng\u01b0\u1eddi ngh\u1ec7 s\u0129. Ta h\u00e3y \u0111\u1ecdc l\u1ea1i nh\u00e0 th\u01a1 \u0111\u00e3 d\u00f9ng ch\u1eef ngh\u0129a c\u0169ng nh\u01b0 chi\u1ebfn h\u1eefu B\u1ed9i Tr\u00e2n v\u1edbi c\u00e2y c\u1ecd c\u1ee7a m\u00ecnh:<\/p>\n“I wish that my soul could gush forth from the tip of my pen,
\nM\u1ed7i l\u1eddi th\u01a1 \u0111\u1ec1u d\u00ednh n\u00e3o c\u00e2n ta.
\nBao n\u00e9t ch\u1eef quay cu\u1ed3ng trong m\u00e1u v\u1ecdt,
\nBlast me and ice my skin.\nLet me faint in a bath of blood,
\nTr\u1ea3i ni\u1ec1m \u0111au tr\u00ean m\u1ea3nh gi\u1ea5y mong manh.
\n\u0110\u1eebng n\u1eafm l\u1ea1i ngu\u1ed3n th\u01a1 ta \u0111ang si\u1ebft,
\nBecause my heart is in this sea of reeling letters.”\n
Through the swishing of the paintbrush one feels the torments of the artist’s soul which, with a bit of everything, a nothing of ours, finds, pictorially, those so simple words which sound so beautiful, when one knows that, despite everything, nothing lasts other than the future.<\/p>\n
Ch\u1edd \u0111\u1ee3i cho b\u00e3o qua \u0111i hay l\u00e0 v\u0169 l\u1ed9ng trong m\u01b0a? \u0110\u00f3 l\u00e0 s\u1ef1 l\u1ef1a ch\u1ecdn t\u1ed1i h\u1eadu c\u1ee7a ngh\u1ec7 s\u0129.<\/p>\nB\u00edch Kh\u00ea (1916 \u2013 1946) \u0111\u00e3 mi\u00eau t\u1ea3 tr\u00e0n tr\u1ec1:
\n“O wind, you breathe the sadness of the winter.
\nKh\u00f4ng gian m\u01b0a l\u1ec7 \u0111\u1ea7m \u0111\u00eca,
\n\u0110\u1ea7y s\u00e2n tr\u1eafng to\u00e1t hoa l\u00ea \u0111\u1ea7u m\u00f9a,
\nTr\u1eddi lam \u1ee9 \u0111\u1eb7c t\u00ecnh thu,
\nHere are the heavy silvery clouds sliding to the west.”\nAdding, later:
\n“Suddenly a pair of blackbirds throw themselves into the sky…
\nNh\u1ea1c \u0111\u00e2u b\u1ed7ng v\u00f3t t\u1eebng kh\u01a1i
\nWhich my soul follows, my soul.”\n
G\u1eedi m\u1ed9t l\u00e1 th\u01b0 tang? C\u00e1i s\u1ed1 c\u1ee7a ta n\u00f3 th\u1ebf hay sao, b\u1edfi m\u1ecdi th\u1ee9 ta y\u00eau r\u1ed3i s\u1ebd ch\u1ebft?<\/p>\n
B\u1edfi v\u00ec \u0111\u00e3 t\u1eeb l\u00e2u \u0111\u1eddi \u0111\u00e3 d\u1ea1y cho B\u1ed9i Tr\u00e2n r\u1eb1ng l\u1edbp ng\u01b0\u1eddi v\u00f4 nguy\u00ean t\u1eafc cai qu\u1ea3n nh\u1eefng ng\u01b0\u1eddi kh\u00f4ng k\u00fd \u1ee9c, cho n\u00ean chi qua t\u00e1c ph\u1ea9m c\u1ee7a m\u00ecnh h\u1ecda s\u0129 t\u1ecf ra r\u1eb1ng n\u1ebfu gi\u1ea5c m\u01a1 ch\u1eb3ng xua \u0111u\u1ed5i \u0111\u01b0\u1ee3c \u00e1c m\u1ed9ng th\u00ec ch\u1eb3ng b\u1ecf m\u01a1 l\u00e0m g\u00ec.<\/p>\nThere is always “The watchful dream” as written by Paul Eluard (1895-1952):
\n“Night is never total.
\nT\u00f4i \u0111\u00e3 b\u1ea3o m\u00e0, bao gi\u1edd c\u0169ng c\u00f3,
\nT\u00f4i \u0111\u00e3 n\u00f3i ch\u1eafc m\u00e0,
\nPh\u00eda cu\u1ed1i n\u1ed7i s\u1ea7u,
\nC\u00f3 c\u1eeda s\u1ed5 m\u1edf,
\nC\u00f3 c\u1eeda s\u1ed5 s\u00e1ng \u0111\u00e8n,
\nThere is always a watchful dream (…)”.\n
H\u1ee1i b\u1ea1n \u0111\u1ecdc, h\u00e3y t\u00ecm \u0111\u1ecdc ti\u1ebfp b\u00e0i th\u01a1 r\u1ed3i t\u1ef1 h\u1ecfi: Ai c\u00f3 quy\u1ec1n n\u00f3i v\u1ec1 B\u1ed9i Tr\u00e2n?<\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Ch\u1eb3ng c\u00f3 \u0111\u1ecba \u0111i\u1ec3m n\u00e0o kh\u00f4ng c\u00f3 l\u1ecbch s\u1eed. Ch\u1eb3ng c\u00f3 l\u1ecbch s\u1eed n\u00e0o kh\u00f4ng c\u00f3 \u0111\u1ecba \u0111i\u1ec3m. C\u00f3 nh\u1eefng \u0111\u1ecba \u0111i\u1ec3m kh\u00f4ng \u0111o \u0111\u1ea1c, nh\u1eefng l\u1ecbch s\u1eed ngo\u00e0i v\u00f2ng th\u1eddi gian. Nh\u1eefng kho\u1ea3nh kh\u1eafc cao sang v\u00e0 nh\u1eefng n\u01a1i ch\u1ed1n kh\u00f4ng ai bi\u1ebft. Nh\u1eefng m\u1ea9u thi\u00ean thu v\u00e0 nh\u1eefng m\u01a1 m\u00e0ng ng\u1eaft qu\u00e3ng. Mu\u1ed1n nghi\u1ec7m l\u1ea1i m\u00e0 xem, n\u00ean bi\u1ebft \u0111\u1ebfn B\u1ed9i Tr\u00e2n.<\/p>","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":5888,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[23,25,9],"tags":[90,91,17,80,132],"class_list":["post-930","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-art","category-culture","category-stories","tag-boi-tran","tag-boi-tran-art-gallery","tag-boi-tran-garden","tag-christies","tag-jean-francois-hubert"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/boitran.com\/vi\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/930","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/boitran.com\/vi\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/boitran.com\/vi\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/boitran.com\/vi\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/boitran.com\/vi\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=930"}],"version-history":[{"count":40,"href":"https:\/\/boitran.com\/vi\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/930\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":8182,"href":"https:\/\/boitran.com\/vi\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/930\/revisions\/8182"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/boitran.com\/vi\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/5888"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/boitran.com\/vi\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=930"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/boitran.com\/vi\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=930"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/boitran.com\/vi\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=930"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}