The Letters of Vincent van Gogh

These letters, which comprise the height of Van Gogh’s independence—beginning with the death of his father in March 1885 and ending with the disastrous violence of his final days in Arles during the spring of 1889—are characterized by a notably explorative, curious tone, illuminating Van Gogh’s Relationship with the Arts. In Antwerp, Paris, and Arles, Van Gogh continuously discovered new sources of inspiration that would prove essential to his body of work. 

Structurally speaking, the Paris period has the effect of a missing puzzle piece, since Van Gogh wrote comparatively few letters during this time. That sparsity is dissonant with the importance of the Paris period to Van Gogh’s work, since art historians know that this was when he encountered the Impressionists and Post-Impressionists with whom he would come to be grouped. As De Leeuw remarks, “The lack of letters from just these years is especially unfortunate because the period was so turbulent” (448).

Although readers, especially Van Gogh enthusiasts, may find the blank space of the Paris years frustrating, the Antwerp and Arles letters provide ample insights into the barrage of inspirations that overtook Van Gogh during these years. His detailed description of the docks in Antwerp, for example, speaks to the excitement with which Van Gogh was engaging with his surroundings: “Everything could be done there, townscapes, figures of the most diverse character, ships as the main subject with water & the sky a delicate grey—but, above all—Japonaiseries… there are always figures in motion there […] everything looks fantastic, with interesting contrasts at every turn” (433). 

As this passage indicates, the crucial influence of Japanese art—which art historians consider to be a defining characteristic of the Impressionist and post-impressionist movements—had reached Van Gogh before he ever interacted with his contemporaries in Paris. Ukiyo-e prints seemed to unlock new imaginative possibilities for Van Gogh. Writing from Arles, he told Theo, ‘‘In time, your outlook changes, you look on things with a more Japanese eye, you experience colours differently. […] So I’m convinced that my personality will develop if I live here for a long time” (490). Taking on what he believed to be a Japanese perspective was increasingly becoming just as important to his art as taking on the perspective of peasants had always been.

Just as the cityscape in Antwerp had excited him, the atmosphere of Arles also proved to be a stimulating new source of inspiration. During the 15 months that he lived and worked there, it is estimated that he produced about 200 canvases, and his chosen subjects ranged from fruit trees, to his bedroom, to portraits of the people he interacted with every day. A few months after his arrival, he wrote to Theo, “Now that I have made a start in the south, I can hardly conceive of going anywhere else” (493). In many modern accounts, the nightmarish quality of the events that ended his stay in the city overshadow this irrepressible enthusiasm of the earlier months. Reading the letters reveals that, on the whole, the Arles period was a relatively vibrant, joyful one.

Of course, the violent attacks on Gauguin, and the self-mutilation cannot be completely ignored, since they were a turning point towards Van Gogh’s final struggles with his mental health. The prospect of seeking treatment was a daunting one, and his anticipatory exhaustion comes through particularly clearly as he ponders signing up for military service instead of going to the asylum in Saint-Rèmy: “I feel very tired after the conversation with M. Salles, and I don’t quite know what to do. I myself advised Bernard to do his service there, so it’s hardly surprising that I’m considering going to Arabia as a soldier myself,” he wrote to Theo after talking with his caregiver, “I say that so you will not blame me too much if I do go. Everything else is so vague and so strange” (598). 

After the particularly energetic years spent in Antwerp, Paris, and Arles, something seems to have given out within Van Gogh’s spirit, and his letters take on this utterly depleted tone. As will become apparent in the subsequent chapters, however, this exhaustion due to poor health did not ultimately correspond to a reduced artistic output.