A brush with a famous painter

The crew sets up and the painter is pushed aside. Copies of his works-- paintings of prisoners at the high school turned torture prison, S21, that have made Mr. Vann Nath so famous, are now carelessly handled by the camera crew and placed behind a metallic chair with plastic red cushioning, as they set up the frame for the video interview.  The director speaks to him in Khmer and I sit quietly and nod on occasion when I think I’ve understood something thanks to a small hand gesture here or there—I’m still waiting for the day that God will strike me with the awesome ability to comprehend what is being said in any language. An afternoon in the office suddenly turned into an unexpected invitation by the director to accompany him as he interviews Mr. Vann Nath, who now sits to my right, in black Adidas track pants and a blue button-down shirt opened up almost all the way, save a few buttons on the bottom to let air in. White hairs crown his head and his forehead collects beads of sweat in this hot dark room off, which is off to the side of his restaurant where I just had my second cup of coffee for the day.  This is a room whose sole function seems to be an impromptu place to greet journalists, visitors and the like. It is not fancy. For a man who has witnessed killings during the Khmer Rouge and painted portraits for Pol-Pot to save his life, this room is just as dark and uncomfortable as the life he has probably had.   Mr. Vann Nath’s wife sits quietly behind him as the crew and Kimsour move around the bare room and transform it into an art set. When they finally have the right camera angles they urge the painter to stand in front of the camera and Kimsour begins to ask questions, quietly prompting the man to share his opinions on violence against children in today’s Cambodian society. The director's tone is soft and relaxing. I've listened to him before and he has a gift for extracting what he needs from his subjects without any pain. They are comfortable with him and forget about the camera crudely pointed in their face.  Faces soften and information is divulged.

Sweat is trickling down my back and there is a slight fan breeze hitting me now and then. It is a reprieve from the heat, but not from the scenes painted around me.  I’m sitting between two paintings labeled numbers “6” and “7”.  Number 6 is of a prisoner dressed in  the typical dark-blue pyjama-like clothing, as he sits in a chair and a camera and bright light put him on the spot before a group of huddled prisoners watching from behind. An interrogation? A confession? More people will be rounded up and slaughtered.  Number 7 depicts prisoners being brought into S-21; they are handcuffed and led together, their feet almost melting into the pavement.  It is as if I can sense their soles and souls being dragged first into the pavement and then into the prison-school. The colors remind me of one of Van Gogh’s paintings-- the one of the Parisian café. Blues, yellows, reds, and oranges, but this is not a peaceful scene.  As the filming continues I stand up and move to the right to read two pieces of faded-white paper taped onto the wall. Above the black type in French and English is a black and white photo of a young man.  "Detained January 7, 1978-Torso length ?" —and other details about Vann Nath, including his place of birth, and spouse’s name and place of birth.

Out of nowhere I become aware of a clock ticking on the wall. It is near the painting of Cambodian scenery, perhaps of Battambaong where he was born, and the one of the prisoner about to be executed behind some trees.  VANN NATH and a date is scrawled on the bottom left-hand corner of each of those paintings. 

I’m in the presence of a character we read about in the news. A person whose name can often be found in the same published works (including his own) on the “Khmer Rouge” “Pol-Pot” and “S-21.”  He is deeply historically, yet is standing before me in his comfy afternoon clothes and just served me tea, while saying “I don’t speak much English.”  Well, I don’t speak much Khmer and it is a shame. A shame to be so close to hands that painted the truth behind the infamous prison, and not be able to ask him something as complex as “What do you think of the Khmer Rouge criminal tribunal that is going on in front of the world today,” or as simple as “How are you really doing today?”

For more information and to view Mr. Vann Nath's work, please visit:  http://www.vannnath.com/