The painting’s fleshy pinks and reds give it a more bodily emphasis than his signature cool blue observation of the natural world. The van Gogh I met in Paris made me cry, not only because of the beauty of the work but also because I related to his insecurity and self-doubt, his struggle with mental illness. But what the two van Gogh immersive exhibitions made me realize is how I also made unfounded presumptions of the artist and his work in 2017. Because at the end of the day, we can’t pretend to know van Gogh, just like we can’t pretend his work can be projected on walls as though it’s the same experience. All we have are the paintings in the frames, but those nights, those cypresses, those sunflowers — they’re more than enough on their own.

Source: New York Times July 18, 2021 15:00 UTC