Drenthe, Netherlands September-November 1883

Vincent moved North to Drenthe, still smarting from his break-up with Sien and fantasizing about creating an artists’ community, a fantasy which would continue throughout his last years in France. He lived first in Hoogeveen and then Nieuw Amsterdam, and visited Zweeloo while he was here, taking in and reproducing the local people and scenery. He stayed here only briefly.




                                         Landscape with a Church at Twilight - October 1883

Hague, Netherlands Jan 1882-Aug 1883

Embittered by the latest episode with his family over the Kee Voss incident, Vincent returned to the Hague, where he took up more formal studies in art. He began experimenting with oil painting here in 1882 and doing more and more work in oil in 1883.
A common misconception about Vincent is that he either sold none of his art during his lifetime, or only one painting. It may be true that he (or rather, Theo) sold only one of his paintings, but when he was in the Hague this time, he sold some sketches to Herman Tersteeg, who ran the Goupil and Co. in Den Haag, and some others. His Uncle Cornelius commissioned him to do a series of drawings of views of Den Haag. In August 1882, Theo provided money for oil paint, and Vincent started exploring that genre in earnest.
He received some reproach from Theo about the Kee Vos incident, but urged him to begin their correspondence again. Vincent replied with an inquiry as to whether he should keep his letters stiff and formal and businesslike, or if he would be allowed to continue being himself.
It was while he was here that Vincent latched onto a strange superstition, based on what he’d read about the life and death of artist Guillaume Regamey: He determined that he had roughly six to ten more years left in his life expectancy to produce as an artist, and he was obsessed with making as much of the time left to him as possible. This could be literally a self-fulfilling prophecy – as it turns out, he only had seven more years left.
Vincent became involved with and planned to marry a pregnant, down-on-her-luck prostitute named Clasina Maria Hoornik, who is more often known as Sien. At first she and her child were just models for Vincent – she was the subject in his drawing “Sorrow”, in which her dejection is fully tangible.
But soon romance blossomed. Sien accepted the unconventional Vincent with open arms, which was a soothing balm to Kee’s most recent blunt rejection, and claimed not to mind that he was down on his luck as well, in a misery-loves-company mind set. Besides being on the rebound, Vincent’s involvement with Sien could be seen as a direct flaunting of his family’s values, based on their non-support given him during the Kee Vos incident. In any case, it caused more ripples in his relationship with his family. He heard that his father was seriously considering having him committed. His response to his family’s concern for her being of a “lower class” was, “I know that what I have to do is withdraw from the company of my own class, which cast me out a long time ago, as it is.” In other words, if my class is going to cast me out, let me show them how far out I will cast myself.” A self-fulfilling prophecy, as it were.
However, Sien’s and Vincent’s open-armed acceptance of each other wasn’t enough to give Sien the strength to stand up against her mother’s demanding ways, and she and Vincent disagreed constantly about this. Also, Sien’s new baby arrived, money was tight and Theo’s contributions were now having to stretch to take care of four, resulting in one of the few “common” life experiences for Vincent -- fighting with his significant other about money. Their differences ultimately led Vincent to break off with Sien and move on.

                                                         Sorrow (drawing) 10 April 1882

Etten, Netherlands April-December 1881

Vincent moved here to live with his parents again, spent most of his time making figure studies on paper that Theo supplied. In August, his newly-widowed cousin Kee (Kay) Vos came for a visit, and he became smitten and summarily rebuffed in a very final manner. Whether it was because she genuinely was disinterested in him or because of the severe social taboo of becoming romantically involved with one’s cousin is not known, but her response to his interest was swift and certain: “No, never, not ever.” Yet again, he refused to take “no” for an answer, further straining his relationship with his immediate family and damaging his reputation with other relatives and others in the community. His intention was to “keep in good heart and not give up”, thinking that persistence was the key to winning her heart. This approach only alienated Kee and widened the rift between him and his parents, who opposed his actions strongly and vocally.
In the first documented case of his dramatic acting out, he held his hand over a burning lamp and asked to be allowed to see her “for as long as I can stand to have my hand over this fire”.
He chose to believe that his parents and her family were keeping them apart, not her choice. Already disenchanted with the ministry, he was further resentful toward religion because the heads of the two families were both clergymen, and their opposition to his pursuit of his beloved Kee caused him to develop a jaundiced view of religion in general. Again, his devotion to art continued to grow in direct proportion to the dissipation of his own faith and interest in religion.


Barn with Moss-Grown Roof (drawing) April-May 1881

Brussells, Belgium October 1880-Mar 1881

Vincent began formal studies in art and anatomy and composition at the art academy here. He fervently hoped to be able to support himself with his drawings. He was returning to a city he once swore he would never go back to again and studied under the artist Anton Van Rappard until he ran out of money, at which time he moved back with his parents in Etten.

Before the Hearth (drawing) - January 1881

Borinage, Belgium December 1877-October 1880

Vincent was determined to pursue his religious passions, even if it meant bypassing the formal schooling, and he journeyed to the Borinage region in southern Belgium, first to a village named Wasmes and later, in 1879, to another called Cuesmes. He received some brief training for this from a missionary society in Brussells.
He felt deeply the bleakness of the people of the region and tried to reach out to them with his compassion and fervor, even going so far as giving away most of the money his family sent. Rather than embracing him and appreciating his efforts, the people found him eccentric and were put off by his overzealous nature and generally untidy appearance, which he later dismissed as his way of ensuring his needed solitude.
While in Cuesmes, his interest in religion began to wane in direct proportion to the increase in his interest in art. He decided then to pursue a career as an artist. He began drawing the miners and other laborers in the area.
He began writing to Theo again, hoping to reestablish their friendship and expressing the desire to mend fences with their father. In a very objective self-analysis, he wrote to Theo that he is “a man of passions, capable of and given to doing more or less outrageous things” which he later regrets, but he reckons, what can be done? “Should I consider myself a dangerous person unfit for anything?” He wished that the world at large (and his family in particular) would stop seeing him as a ne’er-do-well in the sense of being lazy and unwilling to conform to the demands of society in work and living, but felt he could accept the role of ne’er-do-well if people would understand he was more like a caged bird watching other free birds doing birdly things like building nests, hatching and raising their young and migrating – he knows he should do those things, but being in his own personal “cage”, he was unable to meet those demands.
In July 1880, Theo began providing him financial support, which would continue the rest of Vincent’s life to one degree or another.

Miners in the Snow at Dawn (drawing) - August 20, 1880 -- another letter sketch

St. Remy de Provence May 1889-May 1890

Vincent was voluntary committed to St. Paul de Mausole asylum, diagnosed with a form of epilepsy, a diagnosis which still stands today. There are some who think the epilepsy and madness were part and parcel of one another, but in fact modern psychologists have also offered a diagnosis of bi-polar disorder, or manic depressive as it is formerly known. While one may have aggravated the other, the two disorders are mutually exclusive, and at that time there was not the advanced medical treatment for either one that is so readily available now. Vincent’s life-long severe highs and lows are so apparent in his art and his letters and his relationship history, but evidence of his epilepsy only comes in what, for him, was late in life. It was perhaps brought on or worsened by his addiction to absinthe, a high-proof liqueur so controversial, it has not been available in most European countries and the U.S. since just before World War I.
Vincent resumed painting, painted “Starry Night” while here. Theo married Johanna Bonger that spring, and his health, which had always been precarious, was worsening. Through the fall and the rest of 1889, they both stabilized somewhat, and Theo arranged an exhibition, “Les XX” in Brussells, featuring six of Vincent’s paintings. Vincent was enthusiastic and productive.
1890 began with extreme highs and lows for Vincent. In January, Theo made the first-ever sale of one of Vincent’s paintings (“Red Vineyard”) for 400 francs. (It was the only one of his paintings to sell during his lifetime.) He was the subject of a favorable January 1890 article called “The Isolated Ones”, written by art critic Albert Aurier which linked him to the Symbolist art movement. At the same time, Vincent’s seizures increased in frequency and severity, depleting his mental and physical health. Just as his health was reaching its lowest level, Vincent’s art began receiving critical acclaim, which only depressed him and made him long to be nearer Theo. This longing was made more poignant as Theo’s wife Johanna gave birth to a son on January 31, whom they named Vincent Willem after him.

                                             Wheat Field with Cypresses - September 1889

Auvers-sur Oise May-July 1890

After Vincent’s most serious attack to date took place in February, it was decided that he should be nearer Theo, and in May he moved to Auvers-sur-Oise near Paris and was put under the care of Dr. Joseph Gachet, who he said looked to be in worse health than he himself was. In fact, Vincent arrived in Paris looking robust and in fine health, whereas Theo, who had always suffered from ill health, looked to be the more unhealthy of the two brothers. Vincent spent three days in Paris visiting with Theo, Johanna and his namesake baby Vincent before retiring to Auvers-sur-Oise.
He rented a room and began painting again and seemed to be restored to some semblance of normalcy, or as close to it as he had ever been. He painted nearly one painting a day, consumed by his work.
Vincent made a visit to Theo and Johanna on July 6 after hearing about Theo and his son’s having been recently ill, and the tension in their home was quite palpable, so Vincent returned to Auver-sur-Oise after only a few hours. His letters over the next three weeks boasted his being happier, more settled and less restless. His actions soon after would hold these sentiments in complete contradictions.

                                                     Church at Auvers, The - June 1890
Catholic church of Auvers, which Vincent immortalized in his painting, refused to allow him to be buried in its cemetery because of his having committed suicide.

                                                         Daubigny's Garden - July 1890
                               One of two works believed by Van Gogh scholars to be Vincent's last works.

                                                  Cottages with Thatched Roofs and Figures
                          One of two works believed by Van Gogh scholars to be Vincent's final works.

                                                 Wheat Field With Crows - July 1890
Although popularly believed to be Vincent's last painting before he committed suicide, Van Gogh scholars believe it was painted more than two weeks before that.

On July 27, he took his easel and painting equipment and a gun out to the wheatfields and shot himself in the chest.  He staggered back to the inn and the doctor was summoned and notified Theo immediately. Theo came the next afternoon, and he and Vincent spent Vincent’s last hours together, with Theo holding him and speaking to him in Dutch. Theo later wrote, “He himself wanted to die. He said the sadness will last forever.”
Vincent died after midnight that night, at 1:30 AM on July 29, 1890. His funeral, on July 30, was held exactly twenty-one years to the day after he had gone to work at his uncle’s art gallery in the Hague. The funeral was held at the nearby township of Mery after the Catholic church of Auvers, which he had immortalized in his painting, refused to allow him to be buried in its cemetery because of his having committed suicide.

After his funeral, his friend Emile Bernard wrote to Albert Aurier, author of “The Isolated Ones”:

My dear Aurier,
Our dear friend Vincent died four days ago. I think that you will have already guessed the fact that he killed himself.
On Sunday evening he went out into the countryside near Auvers, placed his easel against a haystack and went behind the chateau and fired a revolver shot at himself. …He finally died on Monday evening, still smoking his pipe which he refused to let go of, explaining that his suicide had been absolutely deliberate and that he had done it in complete lucidity. A typical detail that I was told about his wish to die was that when Dr. Gachet told him that he still hoped to save his life, he said, "Then I'll have to do it over again." But, alas, it was no longer possible to save him. . . .
On Wednesday 30 July, yesterday that is, I arrived in Auvers at about 10 o'clock. His brother, Theodore van gogh, was there together with Dr. Gachet. …The coffin was already closed, I arrived too late to see the man again who had left me four years ago so full of expectations of all kinds. . .
On the walls of the room where his body was laid out, all his last canvases were hung making a sort of halo for him and the brilliance of the genius that radiated from them made this death even more painful for us artists who were there. The coffin was …surrounded with masses of flowers, the sunflowers that he loved so much, yellow dahlias, yellow flowers everywhere. It was, you will remember, his favourite colour,
Near him also on the floor in front of his coffin were his easel, his folding stool and his brushes.
Many people arrived, mainly artists, among whom I recognized Lucien Pissarro and Lauzet, the others I did not know, also some local people who had known him a little, seen him once or twice and who liked him because he was so good-hearted, so human. . .
There we were, completely silent all of us together around this coffin that held our friend.. . .
At three o'clock his body was moved, friends of his carrying it to the hearse, a number of people in the company were in tears. Theodore Van gogh, who was devoted to his brother, who had always supported him in his struggle to support himself from his art was sobbing pitifully the whole time. . . .
We climbed the hill outside Auvers talking about him, about the daring impulse he had given to art, of the great projects he was always thinking about, and of the good he had done to all of us.
We reached the cemetery, a small new cemetery strewn with new tombstones. It is on the little hill above the fields that were ripe for harvest under the wide blue sky that he would still have loved. . . perhaps.
Then he was lowered into the grave. . .
Anyone would have started crying at that moment. . . the day was too much made for him for one not to imagine that he was still alive and enjoying it. . .
Dr. Gachet wanted to say a few words of homage about Vincent and his life, but he too was crying so much that he could only stammer a very confused farewell. . . (the most beautiful way, perhaps).
He briefly outlined Vincent's achievements, stating how sublime his goal was and how great an admiration he felt for him (though he had only known him a short time). He was, Gachet said, an honest man and a great artist, he had only two aims, humanity and art. It was art that he prized above everything and which will make his name live.
Then we returned. Theodore Van Gogh was broken with grief; everyone who attended was very moved….
You know how much I loved him and you can imagine how much I wept. You are his critic, so don't forget him but try and write a few words to tell everyone that his funeral was a crowning finale that was truly worthy of his great spirit and his great talent.
With my heartfelt wishes
Bernard