Part Two: Obsession with Vincent VanGogh
The Great Book of French Impressionists arrived under my
Christmas tree December 24th, 1984
and with its presence provided me directions to pursue. The
book offered much help. During the previous years I had continued to show at
Muldoons with works that, frankly, I've since forgotten. There were,
as best can be remembered, collections of past line
drawings, a few oils from various instruction manuals, and some pieces in the
style of William Alexander, forged from his television show on Saturday
mornings. I had managed to sell several paintings and after two years, had
pocketed $150. for my efforts, enough to encourage my continuance. The silence
had broken, and some cash had changed hands. I wanted more, and was not satisfied
with the quality of my work, a situation I would best describe as learning
intense.
The great book contained hundreds of full-page photographs
from the early 1800's through Cézanne, and as I read through the descriptions
of developments throughout this time period, certain identification with
VanGogh re-emerged. During my high school years I remember my mothers reaction
to a portrait I'd done
of Vincent VanGogh, she put it into the "storage
location" under our house, I guess, for safe keeping.
The tragic story of Vincent became a passion for me.
The stories of struggle, starvation, and rejection,
universal among the group, and Vincent, never having sold a painting in his
lifetime, his self-destruction, strong stuff, strong stuff, indeed. I
identified, as the beginning
of the book GIVING developed, struggling to find peace
within my self. I must also say that to me, Vincent’s work was the best of the
group, and in knowing the output from his final days, over 300 works in little
over a year, it was easy deciding to take lessons from my
new teacher, the long dead Vincent VanGogh, whom remains a powerful force to
this day.
Full bore, as if back on the corner of Raines and Birr, I
jumped into the life and techniques of Vincent as best I could from a book and
my studio room at 52 Summerville.
Impressions of an Impressionist:
All too soon it became obvious from, technically, where I'd
left off with CITY, that large amounts of paint were, not necessarily, what Mr.
Van Gogh had in mind to create the techniques that appear in many of his works.
Probably the most significant lesson learned very early is that a painting can
be built up, slowly,
layer upon layer and finished with a "topping", or
frosting, as if a cake. I re-employed my scrapping technique many, many time
before the slightest hint of success. About this time, bottles of India Ink
came into play with appropriate pens (size is important), recreating many of the
line drawings found with "the great book". Line drawings are fun, and
easy for me and some of these line drawings were sold, at Muldoons
showings, to my friend David Winter. These include an ink of
Dr. Paul Gachet, Vincent's rather taken Doctor who accepted paintings for
treatments, helping Vincent with services, as David helped me with money (my
medical coverage not a problem), and a second, Cafe Interior by Edward Manet.
Although I was concentrating on VanGogh, this work by Manet had a waiter in the
right hand corner who reminded me of David’s friend Harold from Colorado, so I
did it and it turned out well.
The oils in this first section are the first two from
Vincent that survived the scrubbing technique, although as I look at them today
I'd like to scrub 'em. The first is of the classic drawbridge in Arles, which I
was not able to locate when in Arles. The second, a view from Vincent’s
hospital room after the breakdown.
The reason I kept them is first, no one bought them and
second, I'd always had a hard time putting lights over darks, especially after
that "God's Forehead" mess. Yet, in these paintings I had managed to some
success, to make that accomplishment.
"A
journey of 1000 miles begins with a first step".
View
from the Asylum Window (1890)
~
"If
only, Vincent, I didn't have the heaviest hands in the world,
perhaps your
colors, and meanings of thickness could apply to me”.
A
Cafe Interior (1869) -Edward Manet
"How
like our lunches at Muldoons, common faces
and common gestures,
it's unwise to speak of immortal
but one can see it"
.
"God
moves in mysterious ways,
to calm the
souls of the savaged ones.”
I know this
to be true.
