It has been too long. I wanted this entry to tell you that I have scans of all my writing about Vincent in my hands, that the truly creative work has begun. Unfortunately, my patience has been tested these past two months in the scanning of hundreds of documents, the resizing and cropping, the two printing companies that said they would not print my project, and the three rounds of reformatting as each company has their way of doing things.  A week ago I thought I would have to rescan every document;  I felt a kind of mental claustrophobia that I can’t remember ever feeling before. I finally settled on ordering about half my scans, and fixing the images and re-ordering as necessary.

I so desperately want to get to the meat of things, but the grunt work must come first. Only today I remembered Vincent’s frustration during the early years of his career as an artist, when he was mostly teaching himself (with a few mentors here and there) how to draw and paint… It continues to be so very remarkable to me how our thoughts mirror each other from over a century away.

But then I loathe myself so much for not being able to do what I’d like, and at such moments one feels as though one is bound hand and foot, lying in a deep, dark pit, powerless to do anything. Now it’s over, inasmuch as I got up last night and pottered around a bit, putting one thing and another in order… (26 January 1882 to Theo)

Yes. These are the highs and lows of creativity — confidence and passion sometimes drives you to utter despair when things won’t work. I’ve begun to recognize my own phases now, which helps even them out. But now, I’d like to share a little something from the book with you.

Three pieces of paper reappeared in my life after an over two-year state of tucked-away-ness in a plastic bag with all the museum maps, tickets, and other paraphernalia I collected in YellowEurope.

But these words were written before that trip: the night before I reached Chicago, the day I left New York City for Vincent. New York had taught me more than I ever imagined, but to start my own theatre company, to produce my own work, I knew it was too rich for my meager wages. I left many things I adored behind, including my financial independence, to come to Chicago, live with my parents for a year and make Vincent’s Yellow happen. That is what I mean when I write to Vincent that I left New York City for him.

I hadn’t read these words of transition since I wrote them. When I read them aloud a few weeks ago, I began to cry. Not because of the memories – I hadn’t actually read the letter yet! I cried because even then I did not realize I was in Holland.

It was Holland, Ohio, yes — not Amsterdam where I would arrive five weeks later — but Vincent was already with me. Could Holland be a state of mind? I’ll be meditating on that. Here’s taste number two of my book.

My goal is to have put the first chapter together by the end of the year. My plan is to start publishing the book online for free for a limited time, if possible, while I’m pursuing book publishers. I’m toying with the idea of transforming this website into the book itself. If online, the book will be released in segments, in the style of Dickens. If you are reading this now, I hope you will also enjoy reading the book for free within the next year!

~~~~~~~VAN GOGH POPCORN~~~~~~~

If you haven’t heard about the new biography Van Gogh: The Life, you’ve probably been living under a rock. It introduces a new theory that Vincent did not shoot himself at all, but that some mischievous boys in Auvers shot him accidentally, and that Vincent (already feeling a burden on his brother with a new family) took responsibility for the actions instead of ruining one or more of those young mens’ lives by pointing a finger.

This theory sounds quite possible to me (without having read the book yet), the motivations fit more with Vincent’s personality… However, it seems to me that the fact remains that we will never have any conclusive evidence. Once I read through the theory, perhaps I will find it to be most likely.

The truth is… we’ll never know for certain. The gun was never found. But I certainly enjoy this alternative ending, and the questioning of his death.

Perhaps this new theory will mean Van Gogh will no longer be so defined by his suicide?

One can hope.

~~~~~~UPDATE 11/16/11~~~~~~

Scans of my journal entries about Vincent are in my hands!

The time to edit has begun.

251 pages of my writing…

Creativity engine — GO!

So here we go, after 3 years of research, these are the primary things that drive me crazy, in order from most obvious to least obvious  (but assumed somewhere in the back of people’s minds). If you ever read anything that makes any of these claims, you can be sure it’s an unreliable (or under-researched) source.

TOP TEN MISCONCEPTIONS ABOUT VINCENT VAN GOGH

1. Vincent van Gogh cut his ear off.

Thanks to vggallery.com

This may seem a bit pedantic, but it was his ear lobe, not the whole ear. As slight as this oversight may seem, I notice people seem to really react when I tell them that. It’s also possible that Vincent got in a fight with Gauguin and that he cut it off. I find either scenario likely since Gauguin is not a reliable narrator, and lied about various details concerning that infamous night.

Anyway, the main point is, we do not know what happened exactly. Also – as far as the idea of Vincent giving the piece of his ear to the prostitute Rachel:this was reported in the newspaper of the town (well, they reported he gave his whole ear) and Vincent writes in his next letter of “the girl I went to when I was out of my mind.” The ear is not mentioned, however. Over all, it seems likely to me that he in fact did give her this strange gift.

2. Vincent van Gogh was crazy.

Thanks to vggallery.com

Okay,  yes, he went to an asylum, and he had attacks with hallucinations where he would hear voices, and he definitely ingested paint as a way of hurting himself in the asylum, as well as eventually committing suicide. However, Vincent was not always like this. All his attacks occurred in the last two years of his life. Which is not to say he was completely stable and calm the rest of his life, but I think the rest is pretty understandable given his circumstances. Two years, out of the 37 years he lived, is about 5% of his life. Thus, the statement that he was simply crazy is not quite accurate enough for me.

It is also note-worthy that psychologists seem incapable of pinning his attacks on any singular condition or illness. A large part of his madness seems attributable to his difficult social conditions, his terrible diet, and his high intake of alcohol and tobacco.  Something I read today that I found very interesting was that the gas in the lamps he used in Arles (where he first had his attacks) were 5% carbon monoxide, which is a poison capable of provoking over two hundred symptoms and a dozen illnesses including epilepsy, hallucinations, hypersensitivity, and depressions that could lead to suicide. That is to say, almost everything he suffered from.

Lastly, his suicide was executed with a cool mind. This much is known because during the last day of his life, when he was still awake (as the bullet had missed his heart), he said that if he survived he would have to kill himself again.

3. Vincent van Gogh’s madness fueled his art.

Thanks to vggallery.com

The most fabulous and annoying of the lies. It really gets my goat every time I hear it color the way this painter is represented (excuse the pun), so let me make it clear: Vincent could not paint or even write during his attacks! Between attacks, he had phases of complete lucidity in which he would finally gain back his strength enough to work. The way he saw it was that painting was possibly his cure. Vincent did not like his “madness” nor did he encourage it — he actively fought against it every day after his first attack.

4. Vincent van Gogh never sold a single painting.

Thanks to vggallery.com

BAM! This painting was sold to Anna Boch for 400 francs in 1890. Vincent died some months later. Also, Vincent got his work out there in other ways, by trading paintings with other artists (which they wouldn’t do unless they thought they were worth something), and trading his paintings for paint supplies, and sometimes meals.

5. Vincent van Gogh was completely unrecognized during his lifetime for his work.

Thanks to vangoghletters.org

Also untrue. Apart from the sale, Vincent’s work  also got its first review in 1890 (when obviously, he was gaining steam) and it was incredibly positive. Vincent gave the critic, Albert Aurier, the above painting as a gift in return. Another critic wanted to write about him earlier, but Vincent had told him not to, and various artists from Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec to Claude Monet admired and defended his work.

6. Vincent van Gogh was entirely self-taught.

Thanks to vggallery.com

False. Vincent had several very serious mentors and tutors in painting before he took painting courses in both Antwerp and Paris. The above was painted in his class at Cormon’s studio in Paris.

7. Vincent van Gogh was poor.

Thanks to vggallery.com

While Vincent lived in poverty, his brother Theo did send him enough money to live and eat, but Vincent spent most of it on canvas, paint, and models. For long periods of time, he allowed himself little more than dry bread, perhaps cheese, tobacco, and alcohol to survive by. He chose to live poorly, and to give his all to his work.

8. Vincent van Gogh never had a romantic relationship.

Thanks to vggallery.com

Vincent lived with Clarissa Maria Hoornik, or Sien, for a year and a half. She is pictured in his drawing above. He took her in when he met her, pregnant, and already with a five-year-old daughter. She was a prostitute and had been abandoned by the father(s) of her children. He considered this the right thing to do (that any good man would do), and he became very attached to his little family in the time they spent together. He felt enormously guilty when he left her.

Later in Nuenen, Margot Begemann was another woman whom Vincent loved and who returned his feelings. When her family pressured her to end things with him, she attempted suicide. Luckily her attempt failed, but he never saw her again.

9. Vincent van Gogh was always a painter, had never considered another career, etc.

Thanks to vggallery.com

Vincent initially attempted to be an arts dealer like his brother Theo would become, and like many of the men in his family were. After that failure, he turned to the clergy for four years (to join his father’s profession) and was set on being an evangelist for some time. He dreamed of saving the souls of the poor. Of course, his passion and self-sacrifice made him unpredictable and undesirable. Again and again, he was dismissed from his religious studies and his religious appointments. Painting was his last career choice, at 27 years old. He began by drawing the mining community he tended to.

10. Vincent van Gogh had no friends.

Vincent had many friends, particularly in the last five years of his life (though it is true he spent most of his time alone). In Paris he made friends with numerous artists, but particularly Emile Bernard, Henri de Toulouse-Latrec, and Paul Gauguin. He also made great friends with the paint dealer Père Tanguy. In Arles, he made friends with several young painters whom he gave classes to, he expresses in his own letters that he got along very well with his neighbors, and a beautiful friendship blossomed between him and the postman Joseph Roulin. At the asylum, he had a “great friend” in sister Epiphane, and in Auvers you had, of course, Dr. Paul Gachet.

Thanks to vangoghletters.org

Well, I hope this clears some things up! If you’d like any clarification, Readers, please — ask away!

Thanks to vangoghmuseum.nl

Johanna van Gogh-Bonger

Today I’d like to take a moment to honor one of the most important and most forgotten figures in Vincent’s work and life: Jo van Gogh-Bonger. Lovely, lovely Jo.

Jo married Theo van Gogh, Vincent’s brother, on May 2nd, 1889. Since Vincent died July 29th, 1890, Jo only met Vincent on a few occasions, all within the last three months of his life. She wrote him a handful of letters that speak for themselves. Here are her first words to him:

Dearest brother,                                                           8 May 1889

It’s high time that your new little sister came to chat with you and didn’t always just let Theo convey her regards. When we weren’t married yet I always thought: Well, I don’t really dare to write to Vincent about everything yet, but now we really have become brother and sister, and I would so much like you to know me a little and, if possible, love me a little.

For my part — it’s been the case for a long time — I’ve heard so much about you, both from Wil and from Theo — and here in the house there are masses of things that are reminders of you, when I find a nice little jug or a vase or something, then it’s always: Vincent bought that or V. liked that so much — scarcely a day passes when we don’t speak of you. [full letter]

Thanks to vangoghletters.org

Now, not only did this woman have a very sweet soul, but she also gave birth to Vincent Willem van Gogh (what a name to carry…), Theo’s son, on the 31st of January 1890. Vincent Willem ended up with all the paintings Jo had kept by her death in 1925, and in 1960 the Vincent van Gogh Foundation was founded based on their enormous family treasure; it still houses the largest collection of Vincent van Gogh’s work – “some 200 paintings, 500 drawings and 700 letters, as well as the artist’s own collection of Japanese prints” as they put it. But Jo is much more than the mother of Vincent’s nephew and heir. (Although, this photo of Vincent Willem in 1952 is positively delightful)

Thanks to vangoghletters.org

Theo inherited all of Vincent’s work upon his death (this was an unanimous family decision given that Theo had supported Vincent for almost the entirety of his ten-year artistic career), and then when Theo died six months later, Jo inherited everything.

I often consider Jo at that moment, who had been married for only a year and a half, given birth to a son and named him after her brother-in-law, her husband’s closest friend, and then watched both her husband and his brother die in the year following her son’s birth. Jo was 29 years old, quite alone, left with a one year old baby, hundreds of paintings and drawings and letters. What does Jo do?

In November 1891, ten months after her husband’s death, she wrote in her diary:

Besides the child he [Theo] has bequeathed me another task – Vincent’s work – to get it seen and appreciated as much as possible; keeping all the treasures that Theo and Vincent had collected intact for the child – that, too, is my work.

Within the next few months, she resolved to organize all of the letters Theo had kept of Vincent’s, to edit, translate, and publish them. This task, creating the first complete publication of the letters between Theo and Vincent, would take her twenty-two years. That’s over twice as long as Vincent spent painting.

Now while there were certain passages suppressed and certain liberties taken to protect some individuals (all of which was quite normal for the publication of letters at the time), no one can doubt the enormity of her undertaking… Most of the letters had no date and her notes reveal she had a very difficult time finding the correct order (and she was still wrong on various points). It is additionally astounding that she financed the publication herself. It would be seven years before she recouped the cost, let alone made a profit from her publication. And while she was organizing, editing and translating, she also endlessly promoted Vincent’s work through exhibitions and sales. What would have happened if it weren’t for Jo? I believe that she, more than anyone other single figure, secured Vincent’s legacy. Theo kept Vincent alive, Jo kept him remembered.

However, what always strikes me deep in my heart is what she did upon completing this incredible project. When Theo died in 1891, he had been buried in Utrecht, in the Netherlands, in his homeland. In 1914, Jo had Theo’s remains moved to Auvers-sur-Oise, where he could rest forever at Vincent’s side.

Thanks to wikipedia.org

And in their death they were not divided. (2 Samuel 1:23)

That was your motto for the publication of all the letters, Jo.

On behalf of so many, I would like to thank you. Thank you for your love, your dedication, your time, your energy… Thank you, Jo, for saving him. I really believe you did.