VietNamNet- Growing at a record rate of about one million people per year, the country’s population now stands at 81mil, just under 25% of whom are youths aged 10- to 19-years-old, according to the Committee for Population, Family and Children.

At the current growth level, Vietnam will become the world's 12th or 13th most populous country by next year, announced Nguyen Thien Truong, the committee’s Deputy Chairman, at a press briefing for World Population Day (July 6) in Hanoi.

Vietnam’s population grew by 1.22mil people last year, the highest single-year increase ever, Mr Truong said.

This year World Population Day carried the theme: “Save the lives of women.” Each year 5mil girls aged 15 to 19 around the globe give birth, while 65mil girls cannot attend school.

Le Ha

I don't think thats good news, Vietnam is already densely populated as it is.

^
Yeah.  If Vietnam keeps this up it'll become just like Japan!

WOW!! Thats a lot of population ...But then the Land is too small, how can they can live to fit...So ?? Do they have any plans???????

thats why we need to annex Cambodia

(kidding)

Yo Johannjs whois that girl in your avator, ? I see her on Viet TV , but don't know who she is or represent.. ?

Viet Nam's favourite little girl gets new lease of life
  07/03/2004 -- 08:49(GMT+7) 


Ha Noi, July 3 (VNA) - One of Viet Nam's most beloved images, Em Thuy (Little Thuy), will mesmerise the public again after the newly restored painting was unveiled last week.

A project worth 11,000 Australian dollars (7,500 USD) to restore the major artwork started almost half a year ago by visiting Australian art restorer Caroline Fry. It received support from the Australian Government, the University of Melbourne's Asialink organisation and Ha Noi's Museum of Fine Arts.

Considered by many as the greatest work of the revered late painter Tran Van Can, the picture now takes pride of place at Ha Noi's Museum of Fine Arts. Prior to the restoration, the 60-year-old oil painting was seriously deteriorating due to detrimental weather and storage conditions.

In the summer of 1943, Tran Van Can, then 33, sat behind his easel in his sister's house at 23 Hang Cot street to paint Thuy, his eight-year-old niece.

"The painting bears the hall marks of a French oil painting, with its unbalanced structure rendered with free strokes," said Fry, who has worked as an art restorer for almost 20 years.

She added "I imagine it was hard work for an eight-year-old girl to pose for her uncle's work with such a bright face until its completion".

The intensive restoration took five months as many layers of the painting were damaged. The sub-tropical conditions also proved a challenge to preserving the oil on canvas.

Fry says the museum must provide "stable temperature conditions for the paintings", with air-conditioners operated according to scientific instructions.

"Before Em Thuy, my experience was limited to European oil painting," explained Fry.

"I studied the work's materials and composition, the painter's biography and its importance in the history of fine arts," she said.

Also at the unveiling ceremony was the real Thuy, now 68.

"I am very moved to see Em Thuy returned to such a well-kept state," said the grey-haired grandmother.

The Museum of Fine Arts reports almost 60 major works are in need of some restoration, including To Ngoc Van's Hanh quan qua suoi (Marching across the stream), Hai thieu nu va em be (Two girls and a baby), and Nguyen Sang's Thieu nu ben hoa sen (A girl by the lotus).-Enditem

Little Thuy’s journey continues in music

When Englishman Paul Zetter saw Em Thuy, the painting of a child in Ha Noi during World War II that he describes as "Viet Nam’s Mona Lisa", it was love at first sight.

Muse: Em Thuy, by Tran Van Can.

We all have our favourite works of art. Often these are associated with emotive memories of childhood, school or family life.

But often the art concerned was created by people who died long before we were born in countries we might never have visited.

Most people are proud of their own nationality or race – after all, these are factors that help define our individual senses of identity.

But art often transcends barriers of culture and geography. You don’t have to be from Austria to be a Motzart fan, or from Argentina to enjoy the tango.

Artists and academics have been attempting to explain the universal appeal of successful art for centuries.

I can’t claim to provide a scientific explanation as to why Tran Van Can’s Em Thuy speaks so personally to me.

Perhaps it has something to do with a common human need to understand our own essential, personal identity and that of humanity as a whole. This requires us to transcend the language, borders and confines of our own culture.

I would like to be able to say that the first time I saw Em Thuy a thunderbolt struck me and I heard a triumphant chorus celebrating love at first sight, but that would be a lie.

In fact, I can’t remember the first time I saw a reproduction of the painting, though it was certainly before I arrived in Viet Nam.

However, I can vividly recall the first time I saw the painting for real. It was hanging, as it still does, in Ha Noi’s Fine Art Museum surrounded by other Vietnamese works from the 1930s and ’40s.

It stood out like a beacon of serenity.

I was overcome by emotions, and the simplicity of the child and the painting itself caused me to cry. I felt as if she was guarding the memories of my own childhood.

Since then my love of the painting has developed in parallel with my love for Viet Nam. Em Thuy reminds me of my own childhood, and of childhood in general.

As a child I was as shy, pale and introverted as Thuy.

I would half sit in chairs just as she does, holding my hands together to protect myself from the world, but also to denote politeness and formality.

I’m sure my own face was as superficially emotionless as hers, as in inner turmoil I struggled to make sense of the world around me.

Like Thuy I was proud, though my pride wasn’t as solid and unmovable as I sense hers is.

Behind the child’s blank look, I detect an overwhelming air of pride and dignity.

Rendezvous: Paul Zetter meets his inspiration Nguyen Minh Thuy. — VNS File Photo
Sixty years after it was painted, I see in Em Thuy someone who knows who they are and where they’re going, but who’s also vulnerable and indecipherable.

What better analogy of humanity or childhood could there be?

As I grow older I meet people who are more connected to childhood than others. Those who work with children often have the greatest ability to see the world through the eyes of a child.

Theatre director and child advocate David Glass believes if we lose touch with the child within us we do so at our peril. If this happens our happiness and the creativity that successful relationships are built on will suffer.

I think he’s right, and for a foreigner arriving in Viet Nam it’s easy to feel like a child again — coping with a new language, having to learn new customs and meeting new people.

Culture shock sends me back to my childhood, with the bewilderment and exhilaration of new experiences.

In other countries I’ve visited I haven’t experienced culture shock to quite the same level as I have in Viet Nam.

Perhaps this is where the appeal of the painting lies for me.

The picture might also be interpreted as a metaphor for Viet Nam at that point in its history.

When Em Thuy was painted in 1943, Viet Nam was an oppressed and occupied country at the dawn of a new era.

It was burdened by colonial forces, but was nurturing beliefs and techniques with which to fight for freedom.

This moment of calm before the storm is neatly captured in the painting.

The antique French chair, the wallpaper, curtains and the child’s summer dress all bear witness to French influence.

I like to imagine Tran Van Can, Thuy’s uncle, who had studied under the French at the Ecole Des Beaux-Arts but was on the verge of becoming a revolutionary painter and teacher, sitting behind an easel at his sister’s rented house in the capital.

As he paints, his national pride seeps into every stroke he makes.

I have composed a musical waltz dedicated to the painting called Little Thuy’s Minuet. It’s part of the Ha Noi Suite that’s been performed by the National Symphony Orchestra. Thuy attended the performance – she’s now 67.

The first time we met Thuy told me how impatient she had been on the hot summer’s day that her uncle had coerced her into sitting for him.

Little did she know how significant that afternoon was to become in Viet Nam’s modern cultural history. — VNS

Paul Zetter is a locally based musician and arts consultant.

Yo Johannjs whois that girl in your avator, ? I see her on Viet TV , but don't know who she is or represent.. ?

Viet Nam's favourite little girl gets new lease of life
  07/03/2004 -- 08:49(GMT+7) 


Ha Noi, July 3 (VNA) - One of Viet Nam's most beloved images, Em Thuy (Little Thuy), will mesmerise the public again after the newly restored painting was unveiled last week.

A project worth 11,000 Australian dollars (7,500 USD) to restore the major artwork started almost half a year ago by visiting Australian art restorer Caroline Fry. It received support from the Australian Government, the University of Melbourne's Asialink organisation and Ha Noi's Museum of Fine Arts.

Considered by many as the greatest work of the revered late painter Tran Van Can, the picture now takes pride of place at Ha Noi's Museum of Fine Arts. Prior to the restoration, the 60-year-old oil painting was seriously deteriorating due to detrimental weather and storage conditions.

In the summer of 1943, Tran Van Can, then 33, sat behind his easel in his sister's house at 23 Hang Cot street to paint Thuy, his eight-year-old niece.

"The painting bears the hall marks of a French oil painting, with its unbalanced structure rendered with free strokes," said Fry, who has worked as an art restorer for almost 20 years.

She added "I imagine it was hard work for an eight-year-old girl to pose for her uncle's work with such a bright face until its completion".

The intensive restoration took five months as many layers of the painting were damaged. The sub-tropical conditions also proved a challenge to preserving the oil on canvas.

Fry says the museum must provide "stable temperature conditions for the paintings", with air-conditioners operated according to scientific instructions.

"Before Em Thuy, my experience was limited to European oil painting," explained Fry.

"I studied the work's materials and composition, the painter's biography and its importance in the history of fine arts," she said.

Also at the unveiling ceremony was the real Thuy, now 68.

"I am very moved to see Em Thuy returned to such a well-kept state," said the grey-haired grandmother.

The Museum of Fine Arts reports almost 60 major works are in need of some restoration, including To Ngoc Van's Hanh quan qua suoi (Marching across the stream), Hai thieu nu va em be (Two girls and a baby), and Nguyen Sang's Thieu nu ben hoa sen (A girl by the lotus).-Enditem

Little Thuy’s journey continues in music

When Englishman Paul Zetter saw Em Thuy, the painting of a child in Ha Noi during World War II that he describes as "Viet Nam’s Mona Lisa", it was love at first sight.

Muse: Em Thuy, by Tran Van Can (before restoration).

We all have our favourite works of art. Often these are associated with emotive memories of childhood, school or family life.

But often the art concerned was created by people who died long before we were born in countries we might never have visited.

Most people are proud of their own nationality or race – after all, these are factors that help define our individual senses of identity.

But art often transcends barriers of culture and geography. You don’t have to be from Austria to be a Motzart fan, or from Argentina to enjoy the tango.

Artists and academics have been attempting to explain the universal appeal of successful art for centuries.

I can’t claim to provide a scientific explanation as to why Tran Van Can’s Em Thuy speaks so personally to me.

Perhaps it has something to do with a common human need to understand our own essential, personal identity and that of humanity as a whole. This requires us to transcend the language, borders and confines of our own culture.

I would like to be able to say that the first time I saw Em Thuy a thunderbolt struck me and I heard a triumphant chorus celebrating love at first sight, but that would be a lie.

In fact, I can’t remember the first time I saw a reproduction of the painting, though it was certainly before I arrived in Viet Nam.

However, I can vividly recall the first time I saw the painting for real. It was hanging, as it still does, in Ha Noi’s Fine Art Museum surrounded by other Vietnamese works from the 1930s and ’40s.

It stood out like a beacon of serenity.

I was overcome by emotions, and the simplicity of the child and the painting itself caused me to cry. I felt as if she was guarding the memories of my own childhood.

Since then my love of the painting has developed in parallel with my love for Viet Nam. Em Thuy reminds me of my own childhood, and of childhood in general.

As a child I was as shy, pale and introverted as Thuy.

I would half sit in chairs just as she does, holding my hands together to protect myself from the world, but also to denote politeness and formality.

I’m sure my own face was as superficially emotionless as hers, as in inner turmoil I struggled to make sense of the world around me.

Like Thuy I was proud, though my pride wasn’t as solid and unmovable as I sense hers is.

Behind the child’s blank look, I detect an overwhelming air of pride and dignity.

Rendezvous: Paul Zetter meets his inspiration Nguyen Minh Thuy. — VNS File Photo
Sixty years after it was painted, I see in Em Thuy someone who knows who they are and where they’re going, but who’s also vulnerable and indecipherable.

What better analogy of humanity or childhood could there be?

As I grow older I meet people who are more connected to childhood than others. Those who work with children often have the greatest ability to see the world through the eyes of a child.

Theatre director and child advocate David Glass believes if we lose touch with the child within us we do so at our peril. If this happens our happiness and the creativity that successful relationships are built on will suffer.

I think he’s right, and for a foreigner arriving in Viet Nam it’s easy to feel like a child again — coping with a new language, having to learn new customs and meeting new people.

Culture shock sends me back to my childhood, with the bewilderment and exhilaration of new experiences.

In other countries I’ve visited I haven’t experienced culture shock to quite the same level as I have in Viet Nam.

Perhaps this is where the appeal of the painting lies for me.

The picture might also be interpreted as a metaphor for Viet Nam at that point in its history.

When Em Thuy was painted in 1943, Viet Nam was an oppressed and occupied country at the dawn of a new era.

It was burdened by colonial forces, but was nurturing beliefs and techniques with which to fight for freedom.

This moment of calm before the storm is neatly captured in the painting.

The antique French chair, the wallpaper, curtains and the child’s summer dress all bear witness to French influence.

I like to imagine Tran Van Can, Thuy’s uncle, who had studied under the French at the Ecole Des Beaux-Arts but was on the verge of becoming a revolutionary painter and teacher, sitting behind an easel at his sister’s rented house in the capital.

As he paints, his national pride seeps into every stroke he makes.

I have composed a musical waltz dedicated to the painting called Little Thuy’s Minuet. It’s part of the Ha Noi Suite that’s been performed by the National Symphony Orchestra. Thuy attended the performance – she’s now 67.

The first time we met Thuy told me how impatient she had been on the hot summer’s day that her uncle had coerced her into sitting for him.

Little did she know how significant that afternoon was to become in Viet Nam’s modern cultural history. — VNS

Paul Zetter is a locally based musician and arts consultant.

welli thought vietnam have a 2 child policy, shouldnt the population be stable.