- Crazy Pablo
- Posts
- Beauty at War: Foujita and the Elegance of Violence
Beauty at War: Foujita and the Elegance of Violence
This week I chose a painting that deals with violence during wartime—a heavy subject, I know. But one of the gifts of art is that it lets us look at difficult things from a safe distance. It creates space to feel, to ask, and to reflect—without fear.Let’s take a quiet moment to look closely at a work that is anything but quiet.
First time reading? Sign up here.
Soldiers in Movement (marked red)
The figures on the left appear mid-charge—rifles drawn, faces set with grim focus. Foujita’s attention to detail, from bloodied uniforms to tense muscles, captures a chilling realism. There’s no glorification here—just a precise record of sacrifice and suffering.
Stillness Amid Chaos (marked blue)
At the center, the rusty brown tank dominates the scene. Soldiers climb over it like insects. The contrast with the bright, calm sky is striking, almost surreal. This tension—between serene blue and mechanical destruction—is where the painting stings most.
The Burning Horizon (marked green)
Far in the distance, black smoke curls from unseen explosions. It’s a subtle reminder of scale—the battlefield extends far beyond what we see. That empty green expanse in the middle? A void. A death zone. Foujita places us right at the edge.
Fun FactIn the second half of the second world war, Foujita’s paintings grew darker—less about victory, more about despair. After Japan’s defeat, he stopped painting war altogether. For the rest of his life, he mostly painted cats. But more on that in future newsletters. |
Think About It 🤔
This massive, 4.5-meter painting was commissioned to celebrate Japanese bravery—but the battle it depicts was one of Japan’s worst defeats. Foujita never saw it firsthand. As vice-chairman of the Army Art Association, he built the scene from reports and imagination, turning loss into spectacle. It’s a haunting reminder of how easily art can turn devastation into dignity—and how memory is often shaped by brushstrokes, not facts.
How does it relate to the here and now? or What to say during casual conversation to show off your art knowledge?
Can beauty survive war? – “Can beauty exist in violence? Foujita’s Nomonhan battle scene is meticulous, luminous, even serene—until you realize you’re looking at death. In an era where drone footage, video games, and stylized war movies blur the line between information and entertainment, this painting asks: what does it mean to make violence beautiful? And what does that do to us?.”
Art and Authority – “How do artists reflect—or resist—the stories their governments ask them to tell? Commissioned by the Japanese military, this piece was meant to honor valor. But look closely: there’s no glory here. The soldiers are swallowed by vast space, the tanks already rusting into landscape. Foujita gives us the official version—but he laces it with doubt.”
Now have another Look!
And If You’re Up for More…
Step into Foujita’s world at the Musée d’Art Moderne de la Ville de Paris. While not a war museum, this elegant Parisian space holds works by Foujita and other artists from the École de Paris. Walk the same boulevards he did, and explore how beauty and brutality often lived side by side in 20th-century art.
Witness the intersection of history and trauma at the Imperial War Museum in London. One of Europe’s most thoughtful and visually striking war museums, it weaves personal stories, propaganda, and visual culture into a larger meditation on conflict—much like Foujita’s work tries to do.
Thanks for sitting with this one—sometimes beauty hides in hard places.
Maybe it was the distance—painting from reports rather than the battlefield—that allowed Foujita to render something so composed, even heroic. Or maybe it’s the tension itself: how easily a breathtaking landscape becomes the stage for human violence. Next week, we’ll follow his work as that balance begins to shift.
Yours,
Inbal Z M

Reply