Purchase cataloguePainted with Words is a compelling look at Vincent van Gogh's correspondence to his young colleague Émile Bernard between 1887 and 1889. Van Gogh's words and sketches reveal his thoughts about art and life and communicate his groundbreaking work in Arles to his fellow painter.
Van Gogh's letters to Bernard reveal the tenor of their relationship. Van Gogh assumed the role of an older, wiser brother, offering praise or criticism of Bernard's paintings, drawings, and poems. At the same time the letters chronicle van Gogh's own struggles, as he reached his artistic maturity in isolation in Arles and St. Rémy. Throughout the letters are no less than twelve sketches by van Gogh meant to provide Bernard with an idea of his work in progress, including studies related to the paintings The Langlois Bridge, Houses at Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer, Boats on the beach at Saintes-Maries, The Sower, and View of Arles at Sunset.
The translations used in this presentation are from the catalogue for the exhibition: Vincent van Gogh
Painted with Words, The Letters to Émile Bernard and are reproduced by kind permission of the Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam.
Major support for Painted with Words: Vincent van Gogh's Letters to Émile Bernard and its accompanying catalogue was provided by the International Music and Art Foundation. Generous support was also provided by the Robert Lehman Foundation and the National Endowment for the Arts.
Vincent van Gogh, letter to Émile Bernard, Arles, 29 July 1888, Letter 12, page 2
It would be a treat for me to spend a morning with you in the Dutch gallery. All that is barely
describable. But in front of the paintings I could show you marvels and miracles that are the reason
that, for me, the primitives really don't have my admiration first and foremost and most directly.
But there you are; I'm so far from eccentric. A Greek statue, a peasant by Millet, a Dutch portrait, a
nude woman by Courbet or Degas, these calm and modeled perfections are the reason that many other
things, the primitives as well as the Japanese, seem to me . . . like WRITING WITH A PEN; they interest me
infinitely . . . but something complete, a perfection, makes the infinite tangible to us.
And to enjoy such a thing is like coitus, the moment of the infinite.
For instance, do you know a painter called Vermeer, who, for example, painted a very beautiful
Dutch lady, pregnant? This strange painter's palette is blue, lemon yellow, pearl gray, black, white. Of
course, in his few paintings there are, if it comes to it, all the riches of a complete palette, but the
arrangement of lemon yellow, pale blue, pearl gray is as characteristic of him as the black, white, gray,
pink is of Velázquez.
Anyway, I know, Rembrandt and the Dutch are scattered around museums and collections, and
it's not very easy to form an idea of them if you only know the Louvre.