photography by Shannon O'Neil

I jumped – high and far, and twirling.

Vincent’s Yellow opened in Chicago, IL last Thursday, on the 120th anniversary of Vincent van Gogh’s death.

I performed — my cast and I performed — this thing that has been so intimately tucked between my blood vessels, that has been continuously beating quietly alongside my heart for three years, whether or not anyone heard it. This project, this man who saved me from beyond the grave, who changed my life so significantly I turned my own life upside down for him, for whom I made personal and financial sacrifices… but who has always guided me truly, and rightly. (That is, right back to doing what I was meant to do, and thus myself.)

photography by Shannon O'Neil

Performing in this work is as natural as breathing… or perhaps climbing a mountain is a better metaphor (or I suppose a high dive was the original metaphor I chose). It is not easy, it is exhausting and utterly challenging; it is two hours filled with wonder and vitality. It is a constant, driven force, focused by fierce passion and precision. I have used (I believe) every talent I have to make this show what it is, and I have demanded no less than real Truth, real Beauty, and total commitment.

photography by Shannon O'Neil

The piece is also highly demanding of my actors. Yet my wonderful, amazing ensemble meets the challenges I set them with incredible grace and perseverance. They impress me constantly, bringing 19th century words to vibrating life, becoming paint through dance, and making sweet music and even sweeter love for those that have come to visit.

Opening weekend was a waterfall. I will be chewing over the past week for a long time to come. A critic came opening night and told me she was dazzled. I’ll leave the rest of what she told me for her to put in her review, but needless to say, I was very, very pleased. I have gotten a few responses to my show that were overflowing with gratitude.

I, for one, feel most grateful to have this opportunity, to truly show what I have to give, and to sing and dance and breathe and speak to Vincent for the rest of this month. Last year at this time, I was packing my bags for my YellowEurope trip, for Amsterdam, and for all the rest that would await me (all I could never have imagined). I would spend a month tracking you, Vincent. Now I get to spend a month loving you. Completely and utterly.

This is all I can truly grasp right now. Until soon, readers…

Don’t forget to buy your tickets if you can attend; I have a feeling once the review comes out tickets may begin disappearing quickly…

I will end with a quote of his to which I keep returning:

Thus about my work, thus about my person.
– Vincent van Gogh, August 18, 1885

I couldn’t agree more.

And so I offer you some beauty I encountered in Arles, the last of it. After this, there is St. Remy and little more. I see the end in sight of these photos, and I know soon I must bear onwards with full and utter strength, into writing and reflecting further on my experiences and their meaning. I will continue posting about my progress in my work, my discoveries and encounters with Vincent, and I hope you will stay with me, Reader.

For now — a few last jewels of Arles. In truth, I have little to say other than “Look – beauty!” But then, that is what Vincent does for me every time I return to him, it is what keeps me closely tied to him. No matter how dark the path may get, he holds my hand, and whispers in my ear… Look! Beauty! And so maybe that will be enough for you, as it is for me.

Langlois Bridge with Women Washing, 1888

Of course, as usual with Arles, this is only a reconstruction of the bridge, at the location where the bridge once stood. Vincent painted it four times, and many think it reminded him of the bridges in the Netherlands. Despite it being – yet again – a forgery, what I find quite touching is that this is not really in the center of Arles, but a good ten minute drive out. It was built finally, because enough people had come for it, asking, where is the Langlois Bridge?

I like the idea of so many coming, looking for you.

It is not used, it is simply a monument to you. For you. Suffice it to say, I like this one much better than the bust.

The Courtyard at the Hospital at Arles, 1889

Well, yes, it looks quite similar still, doesn’t it? This is the hospital within Arles where Vincent was first brought after his ear had been cut, and he lied all night bleeding in his bed. He was discovered in this condition, since Gauguin had long since abandoned the scene the night before. He stayed in this hospital for one month before he was released and more or less forced into the asylum at St Remy. Still, in this one month, he had the time and force to create a painting.

The place itself, while decoratively (and botanically) restored, retains its architecture, with history seeping in at the seams.

Though these days the location is called L’Espace Van Gogh, it is used mostly for art shows and cultural events that have little to do with you, Vincent.

I wandered the halls that were open to me, and imagined your thoughts here.

Then I wrote for some time in the garden, and there I found you blossoming still…

Could you help but plan a painting of this garden, while you sat here in pain gazing on these flowers?

I imagine, as much as I can help but think of you.

]]> http://www.vincentsyellow.com/2009/12/07/the-last-of-arles/feed/ 2 http://www.vincentsyellow.com/2009/10/08/artistic-inspiration-letters-and-journeys/ http://www.vincentsyellow.com/2009/10/08/artistic-inspiration-letters-and-journeys/#comments Thu, 08 Oct 2009 17:57:00 +0000 Teresa http://www.vincentsyellow.com/?p=294 So firstly, I wanted to share this little darling. I simply love artistic responses to Vincent, but particularly when they are well done. A few days ago I stumbled across a blog of a yarn dyer extraordinaire (all done by hand!), who also made this  – which made me smile quite warmly, I might add:

If only I knitted, then I’d make myself some kind of blanket or something and get as close as possible to wrapping myself up in a canvas of his. Sigh. Someday. (The blanket, not the canvas!)

Next up, I highly HIGHLY recommend looking at the Van Gogh Museum’s new website of Vincent’s letters! They’re doing a huge exhibition of the letters that just opened in Amsterdam (I guess I went at the wrong time, and yes, I’m already quietly calculating how I could possibly swing getting there before it closes), and it all sounds pretty amazing.

The website in particular is fantastic because it holds ALL the information of the newly published, fully annotated, fully illustrated(!), and corrected six-volume edition of his complete letters (15 years in the making), that right now costs 325 euros… but online, it’s free! My favorite quote from the Guardian article reviewing the exhibition: “There is no catalogue for the show. Instead, several sets of the six massive volumes – I carried one back from Amsterdam, and was glad my hand luggage wasn’t weighed – are laid out on tables on every floor in the exhibition. I watched one elderly couple, and a goth-ish teenager, sit side by side reading companionably for an hour.” Awww. Anyhow, it’s a big shift for me, obviously, because a lot of my research is based on his letters.

In fact, the more immediate issue for me is my quotes project. On both twitter and facebook, I have been putting up daily quotes from Vincent’s letters, matching the date as closely as I can. It has been an enormous project, requiring a lot of energy and focus from me every day. I always try to chose quotes that express something unique about Vincent, while trying to balance the outcome (not too many depressing quotes in a row), and while not being repetitive. I started at the end of June, and will continue for one year. Of course, feel free to follow and/or friend him (both accounts function as Vincent) — especially on facebook, interesting things have been happening there with people who comment on the quotes and also interact with each other. People seem to have a lot to say to Vincent.

For me, it has also created an interesting journey. Vincent is in my life everyday – be it Sunday or Thursday, be  it an early morning or recovery from a late night. I always try to post the quotes around mid-day, central standard time, and it’s become a quiet mission, a long journey for me. I also am really enjoying slowly progressing with Vincent throughout the years, understanding what October 8th was for him in 1876, 1882, 1889… And feeling the oncoming events. Anticipation.

Gauguin is coming soon, for instance, at the end of October 1888, and that will only last nine weeks before utter disaster strikes. In October 1883, Vincent just left his long-time significant other Sien, the prostitute with whom he lived for some time. He left because it was impossible, and went far North into the Netherlands. I know that by December, he will give up on living in Drenthe. He will be too lonely, or perhaps to broke to go it alone. I can already see his emotions slide. After that, he moves in with his parents in Nuenen.

It is almost more real to progress with him in this way, for it to be autumn for him and for me, and to anticipate the coming winter with yes, a little dread. I started the quotes project to reveal to others the beauty of his words, and the cogency of his mind – to spread his influence. But it has had more of an effect on me than I anticipated.

Today’s quote:

“We have an absolutely merciless mistral, but I must hold myself in readiness, the work is done in short intervals. So that everything must be prepared and ready for the attack.”
–8 Oct 1888 to Theo

Yes. Sometimes, my love, it is a battle.