display (in a bullet proof glass case) open at the page where Van Gogh had signed in! Many poo pooed but I enjoyed all those extras.

Another source of enjoyment of a different sort and one, I must admit, that was tinged with competitive gloating, was the section of canvases by British followers of Van Gogh in the decades after his death. Whilst we are several conceptual steps removed I must count myself among the group of followers and mimics and I could not help feeling a little self satisfied when at once I could see and understand their failings having been down that road. It is however a little unfair to display a sunflower study by say 'gentle' Ben Nicholson next to the iron standard2 of a Van Gogh. In fact the whole scene reminded me of a description in Eksteins excellent book, Solar Dance,3 of a court case brought against a certain Otto Whacker for widespread forgery of Van Gogh's. Ekstein describes how the courtroom was transformed into a makeshift gallery in order to display the genuine Van Gogh's alongside the alleged fakes. The Van Gogh's 'gleamed like jewels' in comparison apparently and that was absolutely the case at the Tate also and I can tell you that it was a real privilege and learning opportunity to try to examine how and why the dutchman hits those high notes and some very determined imitators could not get to within an octave.

I spent hours going from one follower to the real thing trying to discover some secret. My broad conclusion is that there was a lack of directness and honest vigour that resulted in either an effect too chicken shit or one that overly exaggerates the energy and passion. Nicholson an example of the former and O'Conner4 the latter, but as I say its not a fair comparison and I have great sympathy with the attempt. Did you know that O'conner attended Theo Van Gogh's hastily arranged memorial exhibition of his brothers work in his home just weeks after the debacle at Auvers?

This Whacker caused quite the sensation in Berlin during the time of Wiemar Republic with his fake Van Gogh's. No one knew up from down it seems and Ekstein draws a wider conclusion that this period and indeed the case of the fake Van Gogh's, caused a crisis in authenticity that was foundational to modernism and influences us up to the 21st Century! Quite a thesis and you know he was writing in 2012 but so much of what he says on a 'crisis of authenticity' and the 'eclipse of certainty' in the Wiemar republic could have been written about our post truth era, and look here, our crisis makes the Wiemar eclipse look like handbags!5

But the point about the jewel-like nature of a Van Gogh I heartily agree with and in fact it hit me straight away as I raced past Starry Night Over the Rhone. It really is much more colourful than the reproductions.  I say raced past because that is what I dun did. I should explain.

It was the hottest day of the year at 38 degrees on my visit to the gallery and even though I arrived an hour early to secure first place it was already scorching and by the time the doors opened at ten there must have been at least two hundred people behind me. Being first inn was important so as to get at least a few moments alone with the pictures before the fill up and one is forced into the regular strategic battle of lean, pivot and peer that is inevitable at a Van Gogh show.

As I handed over my ticket and peeled back the curtain I was hit first by the cool air of the climate controlled rooms, but then by the realisation that to maximise my alone time it would be better to dash to the last room of the gallery to establish the lay of the land and then returning quick sharp to the most essential canvases. Taking a few more steps in and looking back I observed how the people behind me dawdled, partly getting their bearings, partly recovering from the heat, and that settled it; I made my dash.

I whizzed past a couple of Daubignys, some blown up sketches, and some etchings from the Graphic in the first room. Then a glimpse of a boots, Madam Ginoux in pink then bang! To my right, starry night a shock of yellow and green but I kept moving. The portrait of the old man in despair, Sein in Sorrow, Still Life with Apples, a Pissarro here the O'Connor there then bang! A marvellous Autumn Wheatfield from Arles. Bang! The St Remy Self Portrait. Now jogging, I attracted the attention of a guard who was not quite ready. He was no doubt counting on the same few minutes of peace before the rush as I was and with a look he urged a change of pace and so I shifted down to a fast walk. The Paris tree swaying in the wind caught my eye, an asylum study of a path I think, sunflowers, and bang! The Yew Tree, a favorite I did not expect. Then the wall of followers, another self portrait, Houses at Auvers the sun with little blue trees and finally a room full of Bacon.6

It was strange to blow past work after work that I had never seen but knew so well and it is a wonder I did not stop and stare but I knew it was right to get to the end and then return to the earmarked canvases, first of which was the Starry night and I had two or three minutes to myself here and I took the chance to examine up close. I could have sat in front of it for two weeks with nothing but a hunk of bread! Is that not what Vincent said about the Jewish Bride? Well I felt similar about this one but I suspect I could sit for a month and only get the odd glimpse of the painting through a conveyor belt of arses.

Jewell like? Yes!

Meaning?

Purity of colour I think.

It contains the vigour the urgency and impasto one would expect but the actual colours seemed of a higher intensity and saturation than expected and it is something more than the inevitable dullness of a book reproduction. It seemed like he was using the colours unmixed. Of course his use of the unmixed is something that is common knowledge and one will read all the time in relation to Van Gogh 'the colourist' but I had understood that in perhaps a too specific way, relating to his most highly saturated works but had not expected to see evidence of this in works of a more general tone. Whether they are unmixed or not I don't know, one would have to ask the Van Gogh museum and their mates at shell oil7 for tests but the jewell like effect was undeniable. Perhaps it was down to a lack of white? 

Having drunk in the starry night I hightailed it over to the wheat field study. Again I was struck by the brightness of colour used within a picture in which the overall effect was of a general tone. One could see the post impressionism in it. The use of colour autonomously to manipulate effects of hue and tone, for example a bright patch of pure yellow is reigned in and made to appear less intense by the addition of dots of bright pure blue or violet, or the duller tone necessary to convey the cut edge of an ochre wheat field is achieved not by a dark but by a pure bright red. This game of colour is in itself perhaps not so advanced but it is  the mastery with which he plays it that makes the difference. The touch, the assurrance, the vigour.

Finally on my short list of 'must see alones' was the Old Yew Tree and I was privileged to have three of four minutes to myself here and as I said this is one of my favourites. I was delighted to find that the sense of combined monumentality and freshness that one feels in the reproductions was magnified tenfold in front of the real thing but the topic of jewellery did not apply so much to this one as it is  a picture rather dominated by one great contrast of complimentaries, violet and yellow. What was striking however was the sense of order to which the work was put together and in this I am referring to the sequential steps that were, due to his assurance of touch,  detectable, nothing hidden by overwork. It all sounds rather text book to dwell on these technical aspects but I must admit that trying to understand how he did it was my main motive. 

I suppose I had nine or ten minutes quite alone in front of these three (Starry Night, Wheatfield and Yew Tree) which were invaluable and for the remainder I ping ponged around all the others for some five more hours before alighting the Tate and heading off to Wasabi for a cup of edamame beans. As I stacked the shells I was desperate to paint and this urge remained strong all the way home and accompanied me out tonight for the above study of a house in Bergby Gård complex which I lashed on in the rain. It inevitably falls short but it does I fancy have an air of menace which I will settle for.

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Gladly yours,

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John

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1 English expression meaning to accept enthusiastically - "she offered me a job and I bit her hand off."

2 A phrase used by Emile Bernard.

3 Solar Dance: Van Gogh, Forgery, and the Eclipse of Certainty, by Modris Ekstein.

4 Roderic O'Conor

5 An unusual expression which we cannot define precisely. The only reference we have found that makes sense is to the phrase 'handbags at ten paces' which is used to mock a dramatic confrontation that fails to end in violence. Shortened to 'handbags'. Used often by soccer reporters.   

6 Fancis Bacon. Bacon's Study for Portrait of Van Gogh IV, Study for Portrait of Van Gogh VI and Van Gogh in a Landscape were on display.

7 Shell Oil are a keen sponsor of research at the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam.

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