No visit to Amsterdam is complete without a trip to the Van Gogh Museum. We’ve had more than a passing interest in this artist, as our youngest son has always been an avid "fan" of Van Gogh. We’ve "done" the Provence Pilgrimage (perhaps I’ll find time to write about that later) and seen his work in other art galleries, but this was the real McCoy and time to soak in the life and times of this "mold-breaking artist".
The museum is housed in what appears to be a drab and neglected building, consistent with the fact that the original building was constructed in the 1970s. However you’ll soon get over that as you enter the art gallery and begin to feast your eyes on the treasures that are hung within. The rooms themselves are simple giving priority to the masterpieces that are displayed there.
The walls on the ground floor are arrayed with paintings by the friends and influences of the great man, including several by Gauguin, Monet, and Pissarro. Thereafter, the paintings of Van Gogh are displayed chronologically. The surprisingly realistic landscapes alongside the atmospheric and painlessly worked peasant paintings were painted in his hometown. He had made hundreds of sketches of local peasant life, and we were pleased to recognise the weather-worn domestic scene of "the potato eaters". Van Gogh had been meticulous in his early studies, and it’s incredible that he moved away from the traditional to be best known for his more colourful Impressionist work. However, in this exhibition you can see the changes emerging through his art as the years advance.
His Parisian phase is well represented with Paris landscapes, the famous Montmartre paintings, his depiction of café life, and his self-portraits.
Life in Arles and his representation of the clear colours of southern France are well-exhibited, and you will not fail to appreciate the clarity and vibrancy of these paintings. And yet, I felt a lingering sense of sadness portrayed in this work. To begin with, I thought it was due to my knowledge of the circumstances of his madness and death, but as I contemplated the paintings, I realised it was more about the way in which Van Gogh distorted trees and flowers to assume a sinister and often threatening appearance. None of this is easily detected when you see photos of the paintings in books.
In the basement, surrounding a large courtyard, was a really interesting exhibit with a display of letters between Vincent and Theo, his brother—letters which recount the story of how Vincent struggled with his life both financially and emotionally and offer an incredible insight into the artist’s life. Perhaps the man who killed himself at the age of 37 would not have produced such great and emotive paintings if he had not moved into madness, nor, I guess, would he have provided the world with so much to speculate about.
Enjoy the colours and emotions that are Vincent Van Gogh!