Van Gogh painted the brightest colors in his black and white life. In the crowded cinema, everyone fell into deep loneliness and silence.
If there is any regret in my life, maybe it was too late to see Van Gogh. The article about Marquez I just wrote a few days ago mentioned my period of depression, and today I must mention my chaotic days. ( Film review of the new film "Van Gogh: The Gate of Eternity" .)
Before I left the UK, I lived in London for a while. While wandering, I walked into the British Art Museum and suddenly ran into Van Gogh's paintings in the last few exhibition halls. In the quiet and cool exhibition hall, "Sunflower" radiates light like a scorching sun. I have seen "Sunflower" in a book before, and also in a large-format book of paintings. However, seeing the shock brought to me by the real Van Gogh still has waves in my mind. The layers of oil paint on the screen pile up this bunch of sunflowers thickly; the brighter the color, the thicker the paint, as if sunflowers are vying to bloom in Van Gogh’s eyes, radiating from the surface of the paper. The joyful light that pierces the darkness and loneliness. At the same time, I can also feel Van Gogh's excitement and desire for communication. Although a bit crazy, I have never despaired or sighed. Today, the movie others have described a Van Gogh:. "What a lonely person is he that a thieving crow could make his day bright ( he is a person how lonely, a steal (his lunch) can crow Light up his day. )"
This movie quoted two letters from Van Gogh to his younger brother, which was very touching. One comes from when he first inspired to become a painter, and one comes from the last moments of his life. I am here to translate a short paragraph.
Letter 249 The first letter
To Theo van Gogh. The Hague, on or about Friday, 21 July 1882.
...
What am I in the eyes of most people? A nonentity or an oddity or a disagreeable person — someone who has and will have no position in society, in short a little lower than the lowest.
What kind of person I am in the eyes of others. I am an unidentified person, a weird existence, an out-of-group person—a existence that has no status in society and is more humble than the most humble.
Very well — assuming that everything is indeed like that, then through my work I'd like to show what there is in the heart of such an oddity, such a nobody.
All right. Assuming that everything is so. But through my paintings, I want people to see that there is still a soul in my humble body.
This is my ambition, which is based less on resentment than on love in spite of everything, based more on a feeling of serenity than on passion.
This is my ambition. It does not arise because of resentment, but because I love, unconditionally love; because of a forbearance rather than passion.
Even though I'm often in a mess, inside me there's still a calm, pure harmony and music. In the poorest little house, in the filthiest corner, I see paintings or drawings. And my mind turns in that direction as if with an irresistible urge. As time passes, other things are increasingly excluded, and the more they are the faster my eyes see the picturesque. Art demands persistent work, work in spite of everything, and unceasing observation.
Maybe I am always in a mess, but there is still peace in my heart, pure chords and musical notes. In the most dilapidated interior, the most filthy corner, I still see art and painting. And my thoughts went in that direction, like an unstoppable impulse. As time passed and more things were ignored, I saw the painting more clearly. Art calls for inexhaustible power, continuous work, and never-ending insight (observation).
Letter 638 The last letter
To Theo van Gogh. Arles, Monday, 9 or Tuesday, 10 July 1888.
...
Just as we take the train to go to Tarascon or Rouen, we take death to go to a star. What's certainly true in this argument is that while alive, we cannot go to a star, any more than once dead we'd be able to take the train. So it seems to me not impossible that cholera, the stone, consumption, cancer are celestial means of locomotion, just as steamboats, omnibuses and the railway are terrestrial ones.
Just as we take the train to Tarascon or Rouen, we take the death and reach the stars. The unchangeable fact is that we cannot go to the stars when we are alive, as if we were dead we could not catch the train. So to me, cholera, rock, tuberculosis, and cancer are like the means of transportation in heaven; like steamboats, minibuses, and trains, they are the means of transportation in the world.
To die peacefully of old age would be to go there on foot.
The peaceful old death is like a hike in the sky.
For the moment I'm going to go to bed because it's late, and I wish you good-night and good luck.
At this moment I want to go to sleep, because it is getting late. I wish you good night and good luck.
Handshake.
Ever yours,
Vincent
shake hands.
You forever,
Vincent
Everyone around Van Gogh was painted as a model. In the movie, the people in these portraits become animated pictures, taking us through Van Gogh's life.
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