Remembering Vincent

Today is Vincent van Gogh’s Birthday. He was born on March 30, 1853. I thought I would celebrate the occasion by reposting Vincent’s Room which I originally posted on The Changing Palette in June 2014. During these difficult days taking a moment to look back on the life of someone who had to “suffer for his sanity” but was still able to show us the beauty that surrounded him in his own wonderfully iconic way should inspire us all.

Who can look at a sunflower and at the same time not think of Vincent? Let us celebrate his memory together, and please listen to Don Maclean’s “Vincent” imbedded in the post. I promise you will it will be the highlight of your day.

“What would life be if we had no courage to attempt anything.” Vincent van Gogh

Vincent's Room i

Can there be a more iconic room than Vincent Van Gogh’s bedroom at the Saint-Paul Asylum, Saint-Remy, France where Van Gogh entered voluntarily as a patient on May 8, 1889 and remained until May the following year. During this time he painted the gardens, with their wheat fields, olives groves, irises and sunflowers, all of which he could see from his bedroom window.

Sunflowers

The Asylum was originally an Augustine Monastery built in the 12th century with its cloisters maintained so beautifully to this day.

Cloister ii

 

Cloister i

 

Here is an excerpt from a letter he wrote to Emile Bernard about his painting of the gardens, and as you read his words enjoy the classic song by Don Maclean, “Vincent”, written as a tribute to Van Gogh and released in 1976.

“A view of the garden of the asylum where I am, on the right a gray terrace, a section the house, some rosebushes that have lost their flowers; on the left, the earth of the garden – red ochre – earth burnt by the sun, covered in fallen pine twigs. This edge of the garden is planted with large pines with red ochre trunks and branches, with green foliage saddened by a mixture of black. These tall trees stand out against an evening sky streaked with violet against a yellow background. High up, the yellow turns to pink, turns to green. A wall – red ocher again – blocks the view, and there’s nothing above it but a violet and yellow ochre hill. Now, the first tree is an enormous trunk, but struck by lightning and sawn off. A side branch, thrusts up very high, however, and falls down again in an avalanche of dark green twigs. This dark giant – like a proud man brought low – contrasts, when seen as the character of a living being, with the pale smile of the last rose on the bush, which is fading in front of him. Under the trees, empty stone benches, dark box. The sky is reflected yellow in a puddle after the rain. A ray of sun – the last glimmer – exalts the dark ocher to orange – small dark figures prowl here and there between the trunks.”

The Garden of Saint-Paul Hospital October, 1889

“You’ll understand that this combination of red ochre, of green saddened with grey, of black lines that define the outlines, this gives rise a little to the feeling of anxiety from which some of my companions in misfortune often suffer, and which is called ‘seeing red’. And what’s more, the motif of the great tree struck by lightning, the sickly pink and green smile of the last flower of autumn, confirms this idea”.

Visiting Saint-Paul-de-Mausole, walking in the gardens, and standing in the room of one of my artistic heroes provided so many moments to reflect on the genius of one of the nineteenth century’s greatest artists, but also of the sadness and struggles of his life.

I hope you have enjoyed this virtual visit to Vincent’s Room and have been as moved as I was just a few years ago…

Anniversary Bouquet 28.8.15

Painted for our 41st wedding anniversary for the one who brings sunshine into my life each and every day.

11 comments

  1. My favorite artist . Daddy took me to the state gallery when I was a young girl to the Van Gogh exhibition and I’ve been an avid fan ever since . Thanks for remembering his birthday and the Don Maclean song . Beautiful and haunting xxjudy xx👍💜😢

    Liked by 1 person

  2. What a wonderful
    Tribute to the most gifted and tragic of artists. My eldest daughter, baby grand-daughter and I should have been in (or accurately about a mile outside) Saint Rémy this very week spending a little time together in a place that we passed many holidays when she was a child. Everything changes, nothing stays the same. But real beauty will always be a constant. Thank you Andrew. And I need no prompting to listen to Vincent. That song is achingly poignant.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s