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I wrote back that I was not at all astonished at his misconstruing my letter in this way because you yourself had spoken one time of “living on my rents.” And as I now gather from the tone of your letter that you no longer see my difficult position in that miserable light and as I infer it from your strong assistance, so I hope that Mr. Tersteeg’s opinion will also change eventually. The more so because he was the first to help me with those Bargues, for which I shall always be grateful to him.
You write me about a manikin. I am not in a special hurry for it, but it would be of great service to me in composing and finding the right positions, you understand that. But I would rather wait awhile and have a better one than take one now that is too defective.
But please look out for all possible prints or books on proportion, and gather as much information about them as you can. It is of the greatest value to me, for without it, one cannot make a composition of figures quickly. Furthermore, I want something about the anatomy of the horse, and sheep, and cow – not from the veterinary point of view, but rather in relation to drawing those animals. If I ask you for these things, it is because you may occasionally find such prints cheaply, as I have. For instance, if you ever have the opportunity to ask Bargue or Viollet-le-Duc about those papers on proportion, they would perhaps be the best source of information.
Of course, I should be delighted to live with you later, but we haven’t come to that yet. If C. M. would help me to find some job for the time being, I certainly would not refuse it.
Even from relatively bad artists one can learn much indirectly, for instance, as Mauve learned much from Verschuur about the perspective of a stable and a wagon, and the anatomy of a horse, and yet how far Mauve is above Verschuur.
If you can recommend a picture by Madiol for the Salon, do so, for there is much that is beautiful in his work; the man is hard up and has a great many little children. He is now painting a forge; it is very good. Not long ago he painted a little old woman in which the drawing and especially the colouring are superb. But the quality of his work is uneven. His charcoal drawings are often excellent.
This letter is rather long, but I cannot make it shorter. I speak about the possibility that C. M. and others should change their opinion of me at least outwardly but I would much rather it were truly so. For example, somebody like Roelofs doesn’t know what to make of such a false position – either there must be something wrong with me, or with the others; but what he is sure of is: anyhow there is something wrong somewhere. So he is overprudent and will have nothing to do with me just at the moment when I most need advice or help.
Such experiences are not pleasant. The main question is, Am I making progress by working on with patient energy?
I think I am. “Where there is a will, there is a way.” And should I be to blame later if I took my revenge? An artist does not draw for the sake of revenge, but for the love of drawing; it urges you on more than any other motive. So perhaps some things that are now amiss will come right after all.
This winter I collected many wood engravings. Your Millets have increased in number, and you will see that I did not keep your capital of wood engravings, etc., without their bringing interest. I now have twenty-four wood engravings, by and after Millet, counting “Les Travaux des Champs.”
But the main thing for me is to draw, and everything must contribute to that end. The cheapest way would perhaps be for me to spend this summer at Etten – I can find subjects enough there. If you think this right, you may write to Father about it. I am willing to give in about dress or anything else to suit them, and perhaps would meet C. M. there some day this summer. There are no real objections to it, as far as I know. Either inside or outside the family, they will always judge me or talk about me from different points of view, and you will always hear the most divergent opinions about me. And I blame no one for it, because relatively few people know why an artist acts as he does. But in general, he who searches all kinds of places to find picturesque spots or figures – holes and corners which another passes by – is accused of many bad intentions and villainies which have never entered his head. A peasant who sees me draw an old tree trunk, and sees me sitting there for an hour, thinks that I have gone mad and, of course, laughs at me. A young lady who turns up her nose at a labourer in his patched, filthy dirty clothes, of course cannot understand why anyone visits the Borinage or Heyst and goes down the shaft of a coal mine; she also comes to the conclusion that I am mad.
Naturally, I do not care at all what they think if only you and Mr. Tersteeg, and C. M. and Father, and others with whom I come into contact, know better, and instead of making remarks about it, say, Your work demands it, and we understand why it is so.
So I repeat, under the circumstances there is after all no urgent reason why I should not go, for instance, to Etten or to The Hague, if that were preferable, even though it may be criticized by some fops and silly girls. As Father said when he was here, “Just write to Theo, and arrange with him what is best, and what will be the cheapest way.” I hope you will let me know your opinion soon.
Heyst and Calmphout are very picturesque. In Etten I could also find subjects enough, even here if necessary, though then I would move to Schaerbeek.
Scheveningen or Katwijk would perhaps be possible if C. M. changed his opinion of me, and then I could profit directly or indirectly by the Dutch artists. As to the expenses, I suppose they would amount to at least 100 fr. a month; to do with less is impossible: “Thou shalt not muzzle the ox when he treadeth out the corn.”
So I wait for your reply about these things, and in the meantime I am working with Rappard.
Rappard has painted some good studies, among others a few after the models at the academy, which are well done.
A little more fire and passion would not hurt him, a little more self-confidence and more courage. Somebody once said to me, “Nous devons faire des efforts de perdus, de desesperes.” [We must make the same efforts as lost, desperate beings.] He does not do that as yet. His pen-and-ink drawings of landscape are very witty and charming, but in these, also, a little more passion, please.
And now I take my leave, with a handshake, and am always
Yours sincerely, Vincent
http://ping.fm/XgZmZ
I wrote back that I was not at all astonished at his misconstruing my letter in this way because you yourself had spoken one time of “living on my rents.” And as I now gather from the tone of your letter that you no longer see my difficult position in that miserable light and as I infer it from your strong assistance, so I hope that Mr. Tersteeg’s opinion will also change eventually. The more so because he was the first to help me with those Bargues, for which I shall always be grateful to him.
You write me about a manikin. I am not in a special hurry for it, but it would be of great service to me in composing and finding the right positions, you understand that. But I would rather wait awhile and have a better one than take one now that is too defective.
But please look out for all possible prints or books on proportion, and gather as much information about them as you can. It is of the greatest value to me, for without it, one cannot make a composition of figures quickly. Furthermore, I want something about the anatomy of the horse, and sheep, and cow – not from the veterinary point of view, but rather in relation to drawing those animals. If I ask you for these things, it is because you may occasionally find such prints cheaply, as I have. For instance, if you ever have the opportunity to ask Bargue or Viollet-le-Duc about those papers on proportion, they would perhaps be the best source of information.
Of course, I should be delighted to live with you later, but we haven’t come to that yet. If C. M. would help me to find some job for the time being, I certainly would not refuse it.
Even from relatively bad artists one can learn much indirectly, for instance, as Mauve learned much from Verschuur about the perspective of a stable and a wagon, and the anatomy of a horse, and yet how far Mauve is above Verschuur.
If you can recommend a picture by Madiol for the Salon, do so, for there is much that is beautiful in his work; the man is hard up and has a great many little children. He is now painting a forge; it is very good. Not long ago he painted a little old woman in which the drawing and especially the colouring are superb. But the quality of his work is uneven. His charcoal drawings are often excellent.
This letter is rather long, but I cannot make it shorter. I speak about the possibility that C. M. and others should change their opinion of me at least outwardly but I would much rather it were truly so. For example, somebody like Roelofs doesn’t know what to make of such a false position – either there must be something wrong with me, or with the others; but what he is sure of is: anyhow there is something wrong somewhere. So he is overprudent and will have nothing to do with me just at the moment when I most need advice or help.
Such experiences are not pleasant. The main question is, Am I making progress by working on with patient energy?
I think I am. “Where there is a will, there is a way.” And should I be to blame later if I took my revenge? An artist does not draw for the sake of revenge, but for the love of drawing; it urges you on more than any other motive. So perhaps some things that are now amiss will come right after all.
This winter I collected many wood engravings. Your Millets have increased in number, and you will see that I did not keep your capital of wood engravings, etc., without their bringing interest. I now have twenty-four wood engravings, by and after Millet, counting “Les Travaux des Champs.”
But the main thing for me is to draw, and everything must contribute to that end. The cheapest way would perhaps be for me to spend this summer at Etten – I can find subjects enough there. If you think this right, you may write to Father about it. I am willing to give in about dress or anything else to suit them, and perhaps would meet C. M. there some day this summer. There are no real objections to it, as far as I know. Either inside or outside the family, they will always judge me or talk about me from different points of view, and you will always hear the most divergent opinions about me. And I blame no one for it, because relatively few people know why an artist acts as he does. But in general, he who searches all kinds of places to find picturesque spots or figures – holes and corners which another passes by – is accused of many bad intentions and villainies which have never entered his head. A peasant who sees me draw an old tree trunk, and sees me sitting there for an hour, thinks that I have gone mad and, of course, laughs at me. A young lady who turns up her nose at a labourer in his patched, filthy dirty clothes, of course cannot understand why anyone visits the Borinage or Heyst and goes down the shaft of a coal mine; she also comes to the conclusion that I am mad.
Naturally, I do not care at all what they think if only you and Mr. Tersteeg, and C. M. and Father, and others with whom I come into contact, know better, and instead of making remarks about it, say, Your work demands it, and we understand why it is so.
So I repeat, under the circumstances there is after all no urgent reason why I should not go, for instance, to Etten or to The Hague, if that were preferable, even though it may be criticized by some fops and silly girls. As Father said when he was here, “Just write to Theo, and arrange with him what is best, and what will be the cheapest way.” I hope you will let me know your opinion soon.
Heyst and Calmphout are very picturesque. In Etten I could also find subjects enough, even here if necessary, though then I would move to Schaerbeek.
Scheveningen or Katwijk would perhaps be possible if C. M. changed his opinion of me, and then I could profit directly or indirectly by the Dutch artists. As to the expenses, I suppose they would amount to at least 100 fr. a month; to do with less is impossible: “Thou shalt not muzzle the ox when he treadeth out the corn.”
So I wait for your reply about these things, and in the meantime I am working with Rappard.
Rappard has painted some good studies, among others a few after the models at the academy, which are well done.
A little more fire and passion would not hurt him, a little more self-confidence and more courage. Somebody once said to me, “Nous devons faire des efforts de perdus, de desesperes.” [We must make the same efforts as lost, desperate beings.] He does not do that as yet. His pen-and-ink drawings of landscape are very witty and charming, but in these, also, a little more passion, please.
And now I take my leave, with a handshake, and am always
Yours sincerely, Vincent
http://ping.fm/XgZmZ
