VAN GOGH

Many times things lay under our eyes, inert, unnoticed. Today I saw a picture of a well known painting by Vincent Van Gogh, called “The Bedroom” completed about two years before his tragic death. In the synopsis on the painting it’s mentioned that in a letter to his brother Theo, Van Gogh considered this piece to be his best one at that time. According to the record some of the original color of the walls and doors, initially purple, due to discoloration has become the light blue we see today. This made me think of Michelangelo’s frescoes of the Sistine Chapel before the restoration, how time added a special touch to the masterpiece. 

There are certainly many more interesting facts related to this work. Here I will only take to consideration those inherent to the personal impact and intimate connection that drew me to it. Therefore I won’t go deep into the fore standing details and historical circumstances in which Van Gogh gave birth to this particular work, obviously well documented. What I am interested in is the transcendent light emanating throughout the space. It might be plausible my thoughts will coincide with the actual meaning and form related to it, but I will leave it to chance.

The moment I saw “The bedroom” it felt familiar. The striking light, crystal clear and all pervading, made it sort of a universal prototype, essential and primordial, it let on an element present in all things, a subtle thread binding them all together. It reminded me of the mornings at my parents house, waking up late in the reinvigorating brilliance of the sunshine. It gave me the same feelings of old Italian movies, the literary works of Pierpaolo Pasolini or T.S. Eliot’s Waste land just to cite a few examples; where the transient past is captured into the same eternal glare. A blinding light ubiquitous and permeating. A morning light that washes away impurities. It appears as if the artist had cleaned and neaten the room in a desperate ritual. The furnitures and objects are different elements with iridescent affinity, dynamically alive. We see a welcoming environment meticulously arranged, a joyous tragic day celebrating rebirth. Is it Sunday? A sunny ordinary day or overcast indeed? Is the light coming from within the room, from its inner space, the walls or the objects? There is no need to open that window at the far end, to know what’s behind it, it could be anything or any place. There is such energy in this work that it makes it almost unbearable to look at, terrifying. The sharp and clear vision is overwhelming. It shows the process of life, a continuous and constant act of rebuilding over ruins. It is human tragedy endlessly repeating where time stands as bright as an never ending dream, leaving us in anguish. We are aware that Van Gogh expressed his mystical experiences with the clarity and awareness that led him to madness. Madness, superficially condemned and exiled because incompatible with the intellect of common mortals, who fail to grasp its essence and the driving force behind it. This is “The Bedroom”, a place of no return. It’s the joy and the curse that haunts humanity. It’s my life but also yours.