My dear Theo,
I was longing for your letter, and so I was very glad to get
it and to see from it that you are well, also Jo and the
friends you speak of.
Now I must begin with some rather irritating news, as I see
it. It is that there have been some expenses during my stay
here which I thought M. Peyron had notified you of as they
occurred, which he told me the other day he had not done, so
that it has mounted up to about 125 francs, deducting from it
the 10 that you sent by money order. It is for paints, canvas,
frames and stretchers, my journey to Arles the other day, a
linen suit and various repairs.
I use two colours here, white lead and ordinary blue, but in
rather large quantities, and the canvas is for when I want to
work on unprepared and stronger canvas.
Unfortunately, this comes just at the time when I would
gladly have repeated my journey to Arles, etc.
That said, I tell you that we are having some superb autumn
days and that I am taking advantage of them. I have some
studies, among others a mulberry tree all yellow on stony
ground, outlined against the blue of the sky, in
which study I hope you will see that I am on Monticelli's
track.
You will have received the package of canvases that I sent
you last Saturday. It surprises me very much that M.
Isaäcson wants to write an article on my
studies. I should be glad to persuade him to wait, his article
will lose absolutely nothing by it, and with yet another year
of work, I could - I hope - put before him some more
characteristic things, with more decisive drawing, and more
expert knowledge with regard to the Provençal
south.
It was very kind of M. Peyron to speak of my affairs in
those terms - I have not dared to ask leave to go to Arles
lately, which I very much want to do, thinking that he would
disapprove. Not, however, that I suspected that he believed in
any connection between my previous journey and the attack which
closely followed it. The thing is that there are some people
there whom I felt, and again feel, the need for seeing.
Though not having, like the good Prévot, a
mistress in the Midi who holds me captive, I can't help getting
attached to people and things.
And now that I am staying on here provisionally and, as far
as I can see, shall stay the winter - till spring - shan't I
stay here too till the summer? That will depend mostly on my
health.
What you say of Auvers 1 is nevertheless a very
pleasant prospect, and either sooner or later - without looking
further - we must fix on that. If I come north, even supposing
that there were no room at this doctor's house, it is probable
that after your recommendation and old Pissarro's he would find
me board either with a family or quite simply at an inn. The
main thing is to know the doctor, so that in case of an attack
I do not fall into the hands of the police and get carried off
to an asylum by force.
And I assure you that the North will interest me like a new
country.
But anyway, for the moment there is absolutely no hurry.
I reproach myself for being so behindhand in my
correspondence. I would like to write to
Isaäcson, Gauguin and Bernard, but writing does
not always succeed, and besides, my work presses.
Yes, I should like to tell Isaäcson that he
would do well to wait, there is nothing in it yet of what, with
continued health, I hope to attain. There isn't anything worth
mentioning about my work now. When I am back, it will form at
best a sort of whole, “Impressions of Provence,”
but what could he say now, when I still have to get the accent
of the olives, the fig trees, the vines, the cypresses, all the
other characteristic things, the same as the Alps, which must
be given more character.
How I should like to see what Gauguin and Bernard have
brought along. I have a study of two yellowing poplars against
a background of mountains and a view of the park
here, an autumn effect in which the drawing is a little more
naïve and more - home-felt.
Altogether it is difficult to leave a country before you
have done something to prove that you have felt and loved
it.
If I return to the North, I propose to make a lot of Greek
studies, you know, studies painted with white and blue and a
little orange only, as if in the open air.
I must draw and seek style. Yesterday I saw at the Almoner's
here a picture which impressed me, a Provençal
lady with a face full of intelligence and race, in a red dress,
a figure like those that Monticelli had in mind.
It wasn't without great faults, but there was simplicity in
it, and how sad it is to see how they have degenerated here, as
we have from our people in Holland.
I am writing you in haste so as not to delay replying to
your kind letter, hoping that you will write again without
waiting long. I have seen very beautiful subjects for tomorrow
- in the mountains.
Many kind regards to Jo and to the friends, especially thank
old Pissarro, when you have a chance, for his information,
which will certainly be useful.
Shaking both your hands, believe me,
Ever yours, Vincent
-
Pissarro had talked to Theo about Dr. Gachet in Auvers,
a great art lover and art collector who might be willing to
have Vincent live with him.
At this time, Vincent was 36 year oldSource: Vincent van Gogh. Letter to Theo van Gogh. Written 5 October 1889 in Saint-Rémy. Translated by Mrs. Johanna van Gogh-Bonger, edited by Robert Harrison, number 609. URL: https://www.webexhibits.org/vangogh/letter/20/609.htm.
This letter may be freely used, in accordance with the terms of this site.
|