I am not an adventurer by choice as by fate and feeling nowhere
so much myself a stranger as in my family and country.
—LETTER TO ENGLISH ARTIST HORACE LEVENS, SEPTEMBER 1886
ON A SCRAP of paper torn from his sketchbook, Vincent dashed off a note to Theo. “My dear Theo, Do not be cross with me for having come all at once like this: I have thought about it so much, and I believe that in this way we shall save time.… We'll fix things up, you'll see.” He probably avoided going straight to Goupil et Cie, where Theo worked, for fear of running into his former bosses, so he sent an errand boy with the message. Then he settled into a gallery of the Louvre to wait for his brother. He chose to meet Theo in the room where the most important paintings were hung, to let him know he was determined to be taken seriously as an artist.
Vincent arrived in Paris a country bumpkin and found hinv self in the red-hot center of the art world. The older artists working there, such as Manet, Monet, Renoir, and Degas, were the recognized leaders of Impressionism, a movement that had burst on the Paris art scene in the 1870s. Vincent thought himself an expert on painting, but when he saw what the Impressionists were doing, he realized how much he had to learn. Their light-filled, color-drenched canvases soon would turn the sober Dutch palette of The Potato Eaters upside down.
Theo's apartment was only a ten-minute walk from the gallery. That it was too small may have been the reason Theo wasn't overjoyed when his brother showed up so unexpectedly. At the same time, Theo felt lonely and out of place in sophisticated Paris. Like Vincent, who described himself as a boy from Brabant, Theo was happier in the countryside than in the big city. So having his brother and best friend around to share his life might have been a relief. At least now there would be only one rent to pay. After several months they moved to a larger apartment on boulevard Montmartre, even closer to Goupil and near the artist Fernand Corman's studio, where Vincent immediately enrolled to study figure drawing.
One section of Montmartre, at the foot of the famous hill known as the Butte-Montmartre, was covered with vegetable gardens and a few disused windmills. The construction of the white church Sacré-Coeur was just under way. The other section pulsed with lively bistros and cafés, including the popular dance hall Windmill of the Galette, which Vincent soon painted. From the brothers' third-floor apartment he could look out over the tiled rooftops of Paris with their orange chimneys and glass skylights.
Vincent and Theo's new home had three large rooms, a small side room, where Vincent slept, and a kitchen. The living room was decorated with an antique wood cabinet belonging to Theo, a sofa, and a big stove, since both brothers disliked the cold.
Vincent adjusted to life in Paris with renewed energy and enthusiasm. He was eager to leave behind the conservative rules and taboos of his Dutch homeland and to embrace the freedom and daring that France offered him. He wrote his letters in French and replaced the old blue smock and fur cap he had worn in Antwerp with an artistic felt hat, a colorful scarf, and a suit. He painted himself in this new outfit, looking out at the viewer with a steady gaze. Vincent did twenty-five self-portraits in Paris, more than in any other period of his career. His studies of his own image, seen in a mirror, show his preoccupation with self-examination. He would try on different roles, from coarse peasant to urbane gentleman, from plain farmer to solemn artist.
His health, both mental and physical, continued to worry his family. To his mother's relief, he had some much-needed dental work done, as he had lost almost all his teeth. Theo wrote to Mrs. van Gogh, “You would not recognize Vincent, he has changed so much.… The doctor says he has quite recovered.”
Theo's position as an art dealer and patron of the Impressionist painters gave Vincent access to the art world of Paris. He also met many of the younger artists then considered avant-garde—Paul Signac, Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, and Paul Gauguin, to name only a few. In the galleries and cafés around Montmartre they gathered to smoke their pipes, listen to les chanteuses, the female ballad singers, and drink absinthe, a strong toxic liquor. Theo told the family that not a day went by without an invitation for Vincent to visit a well-known painter's studio.
The French Impressionists totally changed Vincent's way of thinking about painting. Impressionism, with its pastel colors and disconnected brushstrokes, aimed to convey a sense of spontaneity, to be a record of a fleeting scene. At first Vincent wasn't sure he liked their bright colors. He preferred the gray tones of painters such as Mauve, with whom he was more familiar. But gradually over the course of the summer he began to replace the dull grays with stronger colors, experimenting by painting a series of flowers. Since he couldn't afford to pay models, friends in the neighborhood would bring him fresh bouquets to paint instead.
In his first months in Paris, he studied figure drawing at Corman's studio, where an artist he'd met in Amsterdam had trained. Vincent gave up the peasant themes he'd committed himself to in Holland and joined Corman's other students in working from live models as well as drawing from plaster casts. He had come a long way from the young man who had smashed Mauve's casts rather than copy them. Now he admitted that there were things to be learned from studying classical models.
Corman, a little man with a long, thin face and a pointy chin, stood on a ladder at the front of the studio, working on his large historical canvases of prehistoric lake dwellers and cavemen, while the students sat at their easels at the other end, painting the model. Vincent's new friend, the eighteen-year-old painter and poet Emile Bernard, would find him there long after the rest of the students had left, patiently trying to draw the contours of a plaster cast. Vincent worked with such intensity that he rubbed holes in the paper from erasing over and over. He disciplined himself for the sake of his craft, but he was far from mellow. His frequent outbursts, as well as the odd color combinations he preferred, caused the younger students to make fiin of him behind his back. But they were civil to him; after all, his brother Theo was a well-known art dealer When Vincent became excited, he had a way of spitting out a string of sentences in French, Dutch, and English, looking back at people over his shoulder and hissing through his remaining teeth. The students admitted being impressed by his painting of a pair of worn workman's boots against a drab background. Vincent said he didn't need to paint figures to express the sadness he saw in the world.
Not too surprisingly, Vincent wasn't a fan of Corman's work, and after a few months he abruptly quit. For the time being he gave up on painting nudes from live models. What did come out of that brief experience was two new artist friends—Emile Bernard and Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec.
Vincent's father, Theodorus van Gogh. Van Gogh Museum (Vincent van Gogh Foundation), Amsterdam.
Vincent's mother, Anna Cornelia van Gogh-Carbentus. Van Gogh Museum (Vincent van Gogh Foundation), Amsterdam.
Vincent at age thirteen, in 1866. Van Gogh Museum (Vincent van Gogh Foundation), Amsterdam.
The house in Groot-Zundert where Vincent was horn. Van Gogh Museum (Vincent van Gogh Foundation), Amsterdam.
Square in Ramsgate. (Drawing from letter 67.) 1876. Pencil, pen and ink on paper. Van Gogh Museum (Vincent van Gogh Foundation), Amsterdam.
Sien with Cigar, Sitting on the Floor by the Stove. 1882. Pencil, black chalk, pen and brush (sepia), white wash heightened with white Ingres paper. 18 × 22 in. (45.4 × 56 cm). Kröller-Müller Museum, Otterlo.
The Potato Eaters. 1885. Oil on canvas. 32¼ × 44⅞ in. (82 × 114 cm). Van Gogh Museum (Vincent van Gogh Foundation), Amsterdam.
Vincent's Bedroom at Arles. 1888. Oil on canvas. 28⅜ × 357/16 in. (72 × 90 cm). Musée d'Orsay, Paris.
Vincent's House in Arles, the “Yellow House.” 1888. Oil on canvas. 28⅜ × 36 in. (72 × 91.5 cm). Van Gogh Museum (Vincent van Gogh Foundation), Amsterdam.
Boats on the Beach at Saintes-MArles-de-la-Mer. Arles period, 1888. Oil on canvas. 25 × 31⅞ in. (65 × 81.5 cm). Van Gogh Museum (Vincent van Gogh Foundation), Amsterdam.
The Night Café (Le Café de Nuit). Arles, 1888. Oil on canvas. 28½ × 36¼ in. (72.4 × 92. Yale University Art Gallery. Bequest of Stephen Carlton Clark, B.A., 1903.
Harvest at Le Crau. Arles, 1888. Oil on canvas. 28¾ × 36¼ in. (73 × 92 cm). Van Gogh Museum (Vincent van Gogh Foundation), Amsterdam.
Postmanjoseph Roulin. Arles, 1888. Oil on canvas. 32 × 2511/16 in. (81.2 × 65.3 cm). Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. Gift of Robert Treat Paine II, 1935.
Le Père Tanguy. Arles, 1887. Oil on canvas. 36¼ × 29½ in. (92 × 75 cm). Musée Rodin, Paris.
Portrait of Eugène Boch. Arles, 1888. Oil on canvas. 23⅝ × 17¾ in. (60 × 45 cm). Musée d'Orsay, Paris.
Portrait of Dr. Paul Gachet. Auvers, 1890. Oil on canvas. 26¾ × 22½ in. (68 × 57 cm). Musée d'Orsay, Paris.
Vase with Sunflowers. Arles, 1889. Oil on canvas. 37⅞ × 28¾ in. (95 × 73 cm). Van Gogh Museum (Vincent van Gogh Foundation), Amsterdam.
Wheatfield with a Reaper. St. Rémy, 1889. Oil on canvas. 28¾ × 36¼ in. (73 × 92 cm). Van Gogh Museum (Vincent van Gogh Foundation), Amsterdam.
Lullaby: Madame Augustine Roulin Rocking a Cradle (La Berceuse). Arles, 1889. Oil on canvas. 36½ × 2811/16 in. (92.7 × 72.8 cm). Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. Bequest of John T. Spaulding, 1948.
Road with Cypress and Star. St. Rémy, 1890. Oil on canvas. 36¼ × 28¾ in. (92 × 73 cm). Kröller-Müller Museum, Otterlo.
The Starry Night. St. Rémy, 1889. Oil on canvas. 29 × 36¼ in. (73.7 × 92.1 cm). Museum of Modern Art, New York. Acquired through the Lillie P. Bliss Bequest.
Wheatfield with Crows. Auvers, 1890. Oil on canvas. 1913/16 × 40½ in. (50.3 × 103 cm). Van Gogh Museum (Vincent van Gogh Foundation), Amsterdam.
Self-Portrait at the Easel. Paris, 1888. 25⅝ × 20⅛ in. (65 × 50.5 cm). Van Gogh Museum (Vincent van Gogh Foundation), Amsterdam.