~ Le Viêt Nam, aujourd'hui. ~
The Vietnam News

[Year 1997]
[Year 1998]
[Year 1999]
[Year 2000]
[Year 2001]

Propaganda art flourishes in Vietnam

HANOI - With modern Vietnamese art making such a splash, it's no wonder that Luong Anh Dung's pieces are being displayed in some of the best spots in the city. What is surprising, though, is his artistic specialty: propaganda. Little more than a curiosity elsewhere in the post-Cold War world, propaganda paintings remain alive and well in Vietnam, one of the world's few remaining Communist outposts. Part of a dwindling club that counts Cuba, North Korea, Laos and China as members, Vietnam has staunchly proclaimed its devotion to socialist ideals.

Propaganda signs trumpeting government policy have been elevated to a specialized art form that is taught at art schools around the country. Trained at Hanoi Industrial Art College, Dung, 53, has been painting government-sponsored propaganda since 1968. In his pictures, workers in hard hats, soldiers in uniforms and bespectacled intellectuals alike stride arm and arm into a dazzling future, as a modern cityscape rises behind them. Of course, the idealized utopia that Dung creates comes with government slogans emblazoned below:

—``Firmly advance toward socialism.'' —``Strongly promote industrialization and modernization for the goal of a strong nation, prosperous people and democratic society.'' —``Long live the glorious Communist Party of Vietnam.'' Its messages are rhetorical, the style rigidly formulaic, but the bright colors and simple forms are reminiscent of American pop art. For Dung, one of a handful of artists who create original propaganda pieces, inspiration comes from his faith in the system. Even as other colleagues cash in on the newfound popularity of contemporary Vietnamese art, Dung feels he has a greater calling. ``I believe in the socialist ideals. If I didn't, I could not create my paintings,'' he says. ``I don't make much money but I have enjoyed respect.''

In Hanoi, the government reserves the most prominent spots in town — around central Hoan Kiem Lake, in the Old Quarter, near the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum — for propaganda pieces. Dung's works are meticulously transferred by other painters onto thousands of signs and billboards around the country. Canvases are used over and over until they are threadbare, repainted with multiple scenes and messages. Most last about six months in the tropical heat and humidity. Government policies are also relayed through state-controlled media and in daily reports over loudspeakers installed in urban areas.

Before 1975, the focus of propaganda was to encourage people to join the war effort, says Hoang Sinh, 70, an artist who has been painting since 1960. After the Vietnam War ended and the country was reunified, the Vietnamese worked ``night and day,'' he says, to push messages about rebuilding a nation. Now officially retired, Sinh continues to paint. ``I don't have to paint anymore, but I love it,'' he says. Still, Sinh and his colleagues are not unmindful of the rapidly changing world around them. Globalization has made inroads here. The propaganda posters that once claimed the public's undivided attention now must compete with neon signs and flashy billboards from Sony and Canon, Coca-Cola and Xerox.

Propaganda painting itself, taught as part of the applied graphic arts programs at fine arts schools, is now billed as propaganda and advertisement painting, Le Huy Van, deputy director of Hanoi Industrial Art College, says. ``There is huge interest in graphic arts, because most of the fourth-year students already have job offers,'' Van says. But most of the jobs rest on their abilities to advertise products, not policies. Times are getting tough, and competition is fierce, acknowledges Dung. ``Honestly, those in politics or government look carefully at propaganda, but ordinary people pay little attention,'' he says. Asked whether he sees long-term security in painting government propaganda, he shrugs philosophically and says, ``In the long run, I don't know what changes in society there will be, but I remain an artist.'' And if Dung cannot be a government artist, there is clearly a future as a private artist.

Hundreds of visitors coming through his small gallery have proved there is a market for propaganda art. His original works, which range from $10 to $50 apiece, are especially popular with customers from the United States, Australia and Europe. ``I'm not sure why they like them so much; perhaps because they don't have this in their country,'' Dung says. ``They are very curious.''

Associated Press - January 31st, 2001.