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Van Gogh is recovering in the psychiatric hospital in San Remy. He'd taken himself there of his own volition after a serious mental health crisis, which had resulted in the infamous incident of self harm. So far as documents tell us, he was there for around a year. But definitely left in the May of 1890 once his doctor deemed him 'cured'. Within two months of him leaving San Remy, he was dead. The result of a, possibly accidental, gun shot to his chest. Nothing in his written communications immediately prior to this, to his brother Theo, indicate that he was having suicidal thoughts. But given his history of mental instability perhaps this was just assumed.
It maybe Van Gogh himself spoke of it as being accidental, but no one really gave this statement that much credence. Why was he carrying a gun about his person anyway? How do you accidentally shoot oneself in the chest?.Whatever the explanation, Van Gogh lived on for two whole days after the fatal shooting, before he died. Time enough for brother Theo to hurriedly come down to see him. So surely they must have talked between themselves about the hows and whys of itl. And there are after all, Vincent’s poignant last words, as reported by his brother ‘The sadness will last forever’ Which points towards a sort of eternal fatalism existing inside of him, feeding his disturbed psyche.
Long Grass with Butterflies, was painted during his stay in San Remy. Its dated 1890, so we have a clearly short time frame of a few months within which he was to paint it. Dr Paul Gachet, his doctor whilst at San Remy, was a huge art lover, and had actively encouraged Vincent to begin painting again. He saw it as a vital 'creative' remedy to passify his agitation. He painted Doctor Gachet and his daughter Marguerite. The latter, yet another example of a women with whom Van Gogh developed an unrequited dependence upon. He wasn’t so much a man unlucky in love, but a really clumsy one in romantic relations, often inappropriate or weak, with an underlying need to save supposedly ‘fallen’ women.
Apart from these portraits, he primarily painted views from his hospital window. Mostly looking down upon the garden and the meadows that surrounded it. It was a recurring theme in his late paintings, to find expressive force in the wilder untamed undergrowth of woods and countryside. The possible simile with his own mental state could perhaps be too easily retrospectively applied to this. However, whilst in San Remy, he was always inside, looking down upon a far less controllable existence than even his own. Engaging with such a rough cut form of nature and painting it, he might well have found this in some way consoling to his febrile nervous system and heightened sensitivity. This externalising of an internal response in oil paint, was inherently a cathartic act to him.
The painting itself, is 25 x 32 inches and perhaps easily overshadowed by its eight other companion pieces hung in The National Gallery in London. Containing the more famous cypress strewn Arle landscapes, Sunflowers and Van Gogh's Chair. Long Grass with Butterflies on a casual glance, seems a lot humbler, perhaps of less significance artistically. But as you draw your attention in, perhaps bending down to examine it in closer detail, you enter a wholly different world of insight into it, an expressive reinterpretation of what the concept of landscape could include. The surface of this literally fizzes with the electric energy contained in those inimitable brush strokes. Slashes of purple blue suddenly appear from in the midst of the coarser green blades of the long grass in the foreground. He indicates with a flock of fluid white dashes in the background, that a wind is forcing the undergrowth to undulate and flicker in the blistering sunshine.
This landscape is an uneven cleft, with a scumble of hedge and yellow gorse visible in the far distance. It is an unkempt coarse meadow, suitable only for grazing sheep on. A grey path scratching its way across the top left of the painting indicates that this was not a place to idly or romantically wander through, but to pass by quickly on your way to somewhere else. It’s not especially beautiful in any classical sense. On a practical level Van Gogh, as ever, is making the best of what he has infront of him, as he was unable to go anywhere else. Such limitations are often the prompt to greater creativity. Being forced to look more closely, Van Gogh identifies qualities in the view that he appreciates and attempts to highlight.
The primary thing to remind oneself of here, is what this painting is called - Long Grass with Butterflies. That is the dynamic Van Gogh saw most visibly at play here. The foreground of the painting is a scruffy, half dried out scrap of the meadow, where the darkest of greens fights against the encroaching parched ground. The vigorous implacable grip these grasses have upon the ground they are growing in, is dense with wide spreading roots. The blades of coarse grass are sharp edged. Hovering over these well established mounds of grass are white butterflies. They are almost too light and insubstantial, one could imagine them being blown out of existence by a strong puff of wind. They flutter and flounder and flutter, rising and falling in out of the grasses. They may only have a brief few days of life, but their efforts to propagate and feed themselves are slow but assiduous. This coexistence of the long life and rugged nature of the long grasses with the light short lived ephemerality of the butterflies, feels like this painting is a metaphor for human existence. We posit ourselves as substantial influential beings, but we come and we go, our flickering conscious awareness is soon lost, Whilst the long grass of reality carries on doggedly still harbouring new instances of life.
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| Van Gogh before going to San Remy |
It maybe Van Gogh himself spoke of it as being accidental, but no one really gave this statement that much credence. Why was he carrying a gun about his person anyway? How do you accidentally shoot oneself in the chest?.Whatever the explanation, Van Gogh lived on for two whole days after the fatal shooting, before he died. Time enough for brother Theo to hurriedly come down to see him. So surely they must have talked between themselves about the hows and whys of itl. And there are after all, Vincent’s poignant last words, as reported by his brother ‘The sadness will last forever’ Which points towards a sort of eternal fatalism existing inside of him, feeding his disturbed psyche.
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| Dr Paul Gachet |
Long Grass with Butterflies, was painted during his stay in San Remy. Its dated 1890, so we have a clearly short time frame of a few months within which he was to paint it. Dr Paul Gachet, his doctor whilst at San Remy, was a huge art lover, and had actively encouraged Vincent to begin painting again. He saw it as a vital 'creative' remedy to passify his agitation. He painted Doctor Gachet and his daughter Marguerite. The latter, yet another example of a women with whom Van Gogh developed an unrequited dependence upon. He wasn’t so much a man unlucky in love, but a really clumsy one in romantic relations, often inappropriate or weak, with an underlying need to save supposedly ‘fallen’ women.
 |
| Marguerite Gachet |
Apart from these portraits, he primarily painted views from his hospital window. Mostly looking down upon the garden and the meadows that surrounded it. It was a recurring theme in his late paintings, to find expressive force in the wilder untamed undergrowth of woods and countryside. The possible simile with his own mental state could perhaps be too easily retrospectively applied to this. However, whilst in San Remy, he was always inside, looking down upon a far less controllable existence than even his own. Engaging with such a rough cut form of nature and painting it, he might well have found this in some way consoling to his febrile nervous system and heightened sensitivity. This externalising of an internal response in oil paint, was inherently a cathartic act to him.
The painting itself, is 25 x 32 inches and perhaps easily overshadowed by its eight other companion pieces hung in The National Gallery in London. Containing the more famous cypress strewn Arle landscapes, Sunflowers and Van Gogh's Chair. Long Grass with Butterflies on a casual glance, seems a lot humbler, perhaps of less significance artistically. But as you draw your attention in, perhaps bending down to examine it in closer detail, you enter a wholly different world of insight into it, an expressive reinterpretation of what the concept of landscape could include. The surface of this literally fizzes with the electric energy contained in those inimitable brush strokes. Slashes of purple blue suddenly appear from in the midst of the coarser green blades of the long grass in the foreground. He indicates with a flock of fluid white dashes in the background, that a wind is forcing the undergrowth to undulate and flicker in the blistering sunshine.
This landscape is an uneven cleft, with a scumble of hedge and yellow gorse visible in the far distance. It is an unkempt coarse meadow, suitable only for grazing sheep on. A grey path scratching its way across the top left of the painting indicates that this was not a place to idly or romantically wander through, but to pass by quickly on your way to somewhere else. It’s not especially beautiful in any classical sense. On a practical level Van Gogh, as ever, is making the best of what he has infront of him, as he was unable to go anywhere else. Such limitations are often the prompt to greater creativity. Being forced to look more closely, Van Gogh identifies qualities in the view that he appreciates and attempts to highlight.
The primary thing to remind oneself of here, is what this painting is called - Long Grass with Butterflies. That is the dynamic Van Gogh saw most visibly at play here. The foreground of the painting is a scruffy, half dried out scrap of the meadow, where the darkest of greens fights against the encroaching parched ground. The vigorous implacable grip these grasses have upon the ground they are growing in, is dense with wide spreading roots. The blades of coarse grass are sharp edged. Hovering over these well established mounds of grass are white butterflies. They are almost too light and insubstantial, one could imagine them being blown out of existence by a strong puff of wind. They flutter and flounder and flutter, rising and falling in out of the grasses. They may only have a brief few days of life, but their efforts to propagate and feed themselves are slow but assiduous. This coexistence of the long life and rugged nature of the long grasses with the light short lived ephemerality of the butterflies, feels like this painting is a metaphor for human existence. We posit ourselves as substantial influential beings, but we come and we go, our flickering conscious awareness is soon lost, Whilst the long grass of reality carries on doggedly still harbouring new instances of life.
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