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Impressions On Vincent.. - Ambika Bhatt Ambika Bhatt has completed her Grad school from Delhi university. She is fond of writing, poetry, travel and photography. As a Sawf Poetry Host Ambika says, "Poetry, I believe is a way of affirming myself that I am alive. Poetry lets me know that my life, however inexplicable it may be, is at least partly tangible for me in verse. It’s a song of the soul."

"How rich art is; if one can only remember what one has seen, one is never without food for thought or truly lonely, never alone." -Vincent van Gogh to Theo.

Its strange, but perhaps true that the most painful lives are the most creatively productive ones. Pain, makes us more insightful, brings us closer to our own beings. Days of pain are interspersed with moments when we are so near ourselves that everything is a haze, but at other times we see clearly and distinctly, as if each droplet of tear acts like a microscope helping us see deeper inside ourselves. Aspects of our own selves that we never knew existed come out into relief, each grain of thought stands out, and we are able to see our mind in perspective through the perspective of pain.

An artist's life that was full of pain was that of Vincent van Gogh. Those of us who know about Van Gogh's life often recount it as one of insanity and wistfully recall the incident of his cutting his ear off. He was violently aggressive towards his own self. He never spared himself, punished himself for everything that he considered he'd done wrong. To give an account of his life lets start from the fact that he had a relatively simple childhood. His father was a clergyman. The first job he did was for Goupil, a well-known art dealer. He was transferred to London where he met with his first setback in love. He fell in love with his landlady's daughter and she refused his proposal of marriage. This disappointment made him search for a purpose in his life. He worked as a preacher in a squalid mining village. Though the miners loved him, they could not understand his extraordinary zeal. His pity moved him to give away his clothes, money, not keeping anything for himself. His religious beliefs were very ardent he had respect for the smallest of animals. The social problems of his times affected him a lot, he was battling with his good-heartedness and boundless energy. Even the choice of his subjects for paintings revealed this, he was partial to the oldest, most wretched looking subjects and depicted them with all their pathos. Van Gogh was exceptionally kind and generous to others, in stark contrast to the way he treated himself. Once when there was a fire in the mine, Van Gogh took in a badly mutilated man whom the doctors had given up on. He took care of him for forty days and paid for his medication. He revived.

As a young man he used to haunt the grave of his dead brother, also named Vincent. He suffered ill-fated affairs, after the daughter of his landlady, with a widowed cousin, a prostitute and an older woman. It was during his days as a preacher that he found his true vocation. After that he underwent intensive training under the northern masters, he came to terms with himself in the solitude of Arles, his self-imposed refuge at the sanatorium in Saint Remy and his last stay with Doctor Gauchet in Auvers. His life was ridden with poverty, all through his life he was barely able to sell his work. No one understood his Impressionistic work, in his times art was one carried down by the Renaissance masters. Art for the common man, and even for the art lover was one which depicted the beauty in nature and in people in a classical style. Van Gogh's impasto strokes and exciting use of colour clashed with their sensibilities. Van Gogh loved to paint fields of wheat in the golden burnished light of sunset, night skies, flowers, poplars, cypresses and common peasant men. Vincent says that "the figure of a labourer - some furrows in a ploughed field - a bit of sand, sea and sky - are serious subjects, so difficult, but at the same time so beautiful, that it is worth the while to devote one's life to the task of expressing the poetry hidden in them."

One of the most famous series of paintings are the sunflower ones. His friend, the famous painter Paul Gauguin, with whom he had spent a lot of time towards the end of his life, says that Vincent loved yellow, it rekindled his soul and provided him with a sense of warmth. Yellow was also the symbol of the light he dreamed of finding in hearts as well as in artworks. He also loved to paint the sun as a huge ball of fire glaring down on us. The "sunflower" was an important symbol for him, it represented to him the problem of his own existence. His paintings remind one of the desperate condition of humanity, by being an artist of reality.

Even though Van Gogh's life was one of great emotional anguish, he found intense joy in the act of creation. He looked for the meaning of existence in his paintings and the fact that he found it gave him profound contentment. He found serenity through his work, and though he was steeped in difficulties all through his life he'd once written in a letter to his brother Theo that he could not count himself as one of the unfortunates, for very few in this world find the work which inspires them and gives meaning to life.

Vincent Van Gogh's talent was headstrong and troublesome. It was not respectful and obliging. It caused him torment. He was never satisfied with his work. His work was intense and feverish. He used to work harder than the peasants in the fields, he used to wake up at the crack of dawn and stay out in the fields till sundown, braving the heat and the wind. Nature was not serene for him, it was brutal, violent, full of latent energy. His brush strokes are powerful, and the whirl like patterns he makes with his brush reveal the energy in nature around him and also the torment in his own soul. His landscapes are chaotic and full of turbulence.

Vincent was of mediocre height and was thin. He had unusually bright china blue eyes, there seemed to be a strange kind of energy in them. He often used to wear a kind of overcoat that was always smeared with paint as he painted with his thumb at times and wiped it on his coat - and an enormous straw hat to protect him from the sun. His personality was simple as a child's. He openly expressed pleasure or displeasure which was often disconcerting for people but he meant it without any offence. An acquaintance has written about him, "everything was terrible about this man. I think that he suffered a great deal in this world. I never saw him smile." A Danish artist Christian Mourier Peterson wrote of him, "I thought he was mad at first, yet I am finding out gradually that there's a method in his madness." Another artist recalls that while walking with him along a road that was deeply furrowed, taking the smoother side he said : "Won't you walk behind instead of beside me. The road is so rough and uneven." Vincent answered : "No, thank you. It is not good to take the smooth path in one's life! I never do!"

Vincent was closest all through his life to his brother Theo. The letters he has written to Theo provide an invaluable account of his life. His brother helped him in every possible way that he could till the end of his life. He had immense faith in the genius of his brother. He felt that his ideas were too advanced for anyone to understand, one had to free himself of all conventions to understand him and his work. He was so attached to Vincent that he could not bear to survive after his death, even though he was married and had a very young child at that time.

Like his life, even his death was extremely traumatic and painful and equally dramatic. Vincent had shot himself in the stomach while he was out in the fields. Two days later he died in his room. He died smoking the pipe that he could never put down and explained that his suicide was absolutely calculated and lucid. When his friend Dr. Gachet told him that he still hoped to save him he'd said: "Then it has to be done over again." On his coffin were placed yellow flowers of all kinds, not forgetting the sunflowers that he loved best. His death was very painful for the few people he was close to during his lifetime he had made some very close and genuine friends who stayed with him till the very end. The pain of his death affected all of them very intensely.

I can hardly even begin to describe the way I feel when I go through his paintings, especially his landscapes. There is such intense harmony of colours such beautiful brushwork His paintings take me on a plateau where the senses are subtly heightened. Little that I know about Vincent, I can "feel" him with my soul the colours from his canvas enter my being flood me with emotions Its hard to look at them for very long they are too beautiful for the senses to bear for very long His paintings bring tears to my eyes He may have died but continues to live through his work and in the hearts of millions of people the world over who have found joy and peace in his work.

Vincent for You..
You, Vincent knew the art of giving You gave of yourself like the mountains give of their bounty, the jasmine flower breathes its fragrance into space You gave unmindful of yourself And that’s what makes your gift so great. You gave to an eternity, not to an age. You ask for no gratitude you unburden us of all debt. Your art is akin to the well-spring of Life, flowing freely touching all those with open, sensitive hearts drenching them with the beauty that you experienced with such subtlety, such intimacy. Nature as if knew the language of your soul, Nature spoke to you one to one, taught you all its hues and moods in such great detail.

Pain breaks open the shell of understanding, pain unleashes energy immense pain churned the loneliness, the misery in your heart and brought it out on canvasses that defiantly expressed your soul Your bold colours rebelliously standing up for all the days of anxious longing of heartfelt humanity.

Vincent, your canvasses cry out to tell me there’s meaning in life, scared I would pass it by they urge me to walk with more courage on my path.

Thank You Vincent, if a fraction of what you gave I can give I’ll consider my life worthwhile.

Until we connect again....

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