Notes

Context:
JLB 562, 2/14/1886: "It's such a brilliant idea, working and thinking in concert."

Context:
BVG 451, 2/1/1886-2/15/1886: "A Zola and the de Goncourts believe in it with the simplicity of grown-up children."
JLB 560, 2/9/1886: "Men like Zola and the De Goncourts believe in it with the simplicity of overgrown children."

Context:
JLB 400, 10/28/1883: "Neither of us would be alone, our work would flow together. We might have frightening moments at the outset, we'd prepare ourselves for them and arrange things in such a way that we had to withstand them, couldn't turn back. Not look behind us nor be able to look behind us, actually force ourselves to look forward."

Context:
BVG 450, 2/1/1886-2/15/1886: "And I wish that we too might work together somewhere at the end of our lives, and looking back, might say -- 'Firstly, we have done this, and secondly that, and thirdly that.' And if we have the wish and the courage, will there be something to talk over then?"
JLB 559, 2/6/1886: "And -- I wish that at the end of our lives we could also walk somewhere together and -- looking back, say -- we've done this -- and that's one; and that -- and that's two; and that -- and that's three. And if we want to and dare to -- will there be anything to talk about then?" (Emphasis in original.)

Armand Guillaumin, quoted in Coquiot, p. 138. (See Ch. 28, n. 152.)

BVG 460, 8/1/1886: The circumstances of Lucie's separation, only a month or two after her arrival, are not clear. The only account of it comes from a letter Vincent wrote to Theo while the latter was in Holland on his summer trip. Not surprisingly, Vincent's account does not acknowledge any personal responsibility for Lucie's departure. Indeed, his story is that he fired Lucie for purely financial reasons. This story strikes us as deceptive. Theo made the financial decisions in the household, not Vincent; and for Vincent to arrogate this power in Theo's absence could not have been expected or welcome. Nor would Theo have left the execution of his wishes to Vincent to carry out in his absence. The greater likelihood is that Vincent invented the termination. He could have done this to cover his own blameworthiness (it could not have been easy to clean or cook for Vincent, especially untempered by his brother's moderating influence). Lucie might also have objected to Vincent's moving the mistress "S" into the apartment (she had not lived with Theo previously), in addition to Theo's friend Andries Bonger, whom Theo had asked to stay during his absence and watch over Vincent. A row with the housekeeper is a far more credible explanation for her departure than Vincent's sudden refiguring of finances only shortly after the always-cautious Theo hired her. Another better explanation is that Vincent wanted to spend the money set aside for Lucie on his pursuit of "S." He almost admits as much when he preposterously proposes hiring the mistress (whom Theo is trying to get rid of) to take Lucie's place as housekeeper. (See Ch. 28, n. 39.)

Context:
JLB 568, 8/18/1886: "Lucie has been given notice; I told her that you wouldn't go on with it because it worked out too expensive, but kept her on until your return because you can then decide how the housekeeping will be."

Theo "had good personal relations with Besnard," according to Stolwijk, and handled his first Besnard painting, Evening at Hampton Court, in 1886 (Stolwijk, p. 104). As for Rafaelli, Theo had seen the one-man show that the artist staged himself in 1884 (he sent Vincent a catalogue [JLB 512, 7/6/1885]) and sold his first Raffaelli in November 1886 (Stolwijk, p. 104). If Theo had genuinely considered Vincent an asset in making liaisons with artists in his first year in Paris, Raffaelli would have been an obvious introduction, given the commonalities in their art and Vincent's professed fondness for him. But positioning himself as an artist's dealer was a delicate job and Theo obviously saw his newly-arrived brother as more a hindrance than a help. The only possible exceptions to this apparent reticence on Theo's part -- the only artists, dealers, or collectors with whom there is any record of Vincent associating in his first year in Paris -- are the painter Félix Ziem (1821-1911; French artist) and the dealer Gabriel Delarebeyrette. According to Welsh-Ovcharov, Émile Bernard "recalled once encountering Vincent and Ziem in streetside conversation mutually enthusing about Delacroix" (Welsh-Ovcharov, p. 62, n. 75). The date of this meeting is not certain, however. Ziem lived at 79, rue Lepic, about halfway between the Van Gogh apartment and the Moulin de Galette complex, and Vincent could easily have met him on his own initiative as a neighbor.

As for Gabriel Delarebeyrette (Vincent calls him "Gabriel de la Roquette" in JLB 625, 6/15/1888-6/16/1888), son of François Joseph Delarebeyrette, the leading Monticelli dealer who died in September 1886, there was definitely a joint meeting with Theo, but the date of the joint meeting is again not clear (JLB 830, 12/22/1889). It is likely that Vincent entered the Delarebeyrette gallery by the summer of 1886, when he painted a series of still-lifes inspired by Monticelli (see Ch. 26), but this encounter was not necessarily under Theo's auspices. The meeting described in JLB 830, 12/22/1889, as well as Vincent's professed familiarity with members of the Delarebeyrette family (see Ch. 27, n. 240), probably date from sometime the following year, when Theo and Vincent formulated a serious commercial initiative in Monticelli paintings.

Theo then moves on to the secondary beneficiary of this elaborate defense (after Wil): "You ask me about Vincent. He is one of those people who has seen the world up close and has withdrawn from it. Now we have to wait to see if he has genius. I think so, and some others with me, including [Andries] Bonger. When his work becomes good, he will become a great man. As far as success is concerned, he may go the way of Heijerdahl, appreciated by a few, but not understood by the many. Those, for whom it is important whether an artist really has something, or whether it is just false glitter, will think highly of him and that way he will have revenged himself adequately for the expressed dislike of so many." (ibid.)

This passage is noteworthy not for the reason commonly cited: Theo's use of the word "genius." Here the word means simply an artistic "gift" -- not necessarily an exceptional gift. Theo uses it to punctuate his reassuring narrative of the "ugly duckling" outcast transformed into a swan by the power of art (and then reaping his "revenge"). It is clearly not meant to carry the weight that has since been attached to it (by Theo's lights, Heyerdahl is no less a "genius" than Vincent); indeed, it can be read to suggest that Theo thought Vincent's work was not yet "good," and that the question of whether Vincent was a true artist had yet to be decided ("we have to wait to see if he has genius").

Johan de Meester, quoted in Van Crimpen, Vincent Van Gogh, p. 78. (See Ch. 28, n. 28.) According to Van Crimpen, De Meester recalled that, on his few visits to the rue Lepic apartment, Vincent "liked to talk about social issues like socialism." We suspect that this is probably De Meester's garbled, short-hand memory for Vincent's arguments on behalf of a "combination" of artists, a cause that grew more fervent in his second year in Paris and that he took with him to Provence where it blossomed into his grand scheme for a "Studio of the South." (See Chapter 30.)

The extended passage from the letter may be the most penetrating and cogent summary of Vincent's behavior ever penned, although, typically of Theo, it carefully reserves the remote possibility that Jo might actually be "attracted" to her strange, soon-to-be brother-in-law: "One of the greatest difficulties is created by the fact that his life is so ill prepared for any outside influence, regardless of whether he is sick or healthy. ... As you know, he has long since broken with anything that is called convention. His way of dressing and his manners show immediately that he is a man of a different kind, and for years now those who have seen him have said: 'He is a madman.' I don't mind all that, but at home it wouldn't work. Even in his way of speaking there is something which makes people either think a great deal of him or else unable to bear him. He always finds people who are attracted to him. But he also has very many enemies. It is impossible for him to have indifferent relationships. It is always either one thing or the other. Even for those who are his best friends it is not always easy to get along with him, since he spares nothing and nobody. If I had the time I would go to him and possibly go on an extended excursion with him, as this is now the only thing that I believe might really calm him somewhat. If I could find somebody among the painters who would be willing to undertake such a project with him, then I would send him the fellow. But those with whom he can get along at all are somewhat frightened by him, and Gauguin's sojourn with him has not changed that -- quite the contrary. Then there is still something else which explains why I haven't the courage to ask him to come here ... Wherever he goes, his presence leaves its mark. It is impossible for him to keep silent when he sees something that is not as it should be, and thus quarrels arise." (Rewald, Post-Impressionism from Van Gogh to Gauguin, pp. 200-301.)

Context:
JLB 568, 8/18/1886: "I hope that you realize from this that you've dealt with her the wrong way. The relationship of the past year has done nothing but make her lose her head."

Context:
BVG 460, 8/1/1886: "The problem is that S.'s eyes must be opened. She is not the least bit in love with you, but it is as if you have cast a spell on her. Morally she is seriously ill."
JLB 568, 8/18/1886: "The issue is to open S.'s eyes. She's not in love with you at all, but it's as if you've bewitched her. Morally she is seriously sick."

Context:
BVG 460, 8/1/1886: "But S. is seriously deranged, and she is not cured yet by a long shot."
JLB 568, 8/18/1886: "But S. is terribly deranged, and it's not over by a long shot."

Context:
BVG 460, 8/1/1886: "So it is certain that, if you could reconcile yourself to it, and S. too, I am ready to take S. off your hands, preferably without having to marry her, but if the worst comes to the worst even agreeing to a marriage de raison."
JLB 568, 8/18/1886: "This much is certain, if both you and she were willing to accept it, then I'm prepared to take S. over from you, preferably, though, without marrying her, but if it works out better then even with a marriage of convenience" (emphasis in original).

Context:
BVG 460, 8/1/1886: "Well, I told Bonger what I told you, namely that you should try and pass her on to somebody else, and I told him more explicitly what my feelings on the subject are that an amicable arrangement, which would seem obvious, could be reached by your passing her on to me."
JLB 568, 8/18/1886: "Now I've also told Bonger what I told you, that you'll have to pass her on to someone else, and I told Bonger at length how I saw it -- that an amicable arrangement which is virtually self-evident is that you pass her on to me."

Jansen and Robert, p. 15: Jansen and Robert make the point that Theo and Andries encouraged this correspondence as a favor to their "lonely" sisters who "shared common interests." But, given Andries's clear sponsorship of a relationship beginning with his eager introduction of Theo and Jo in 1885 (see Ch. 26, n. 403), it is unthinkable that he and Theo -- subtle minds both -- did not grasp the possibility of, and intend to lay the groundwork for, a favorable match. Over the winter, Andries also plied his parents, and Jo, with reassurances about the social suitability of the Van Gogh family. He wrote Jo: "[Theo] and I would be pleased if you [and Lies] get on well together. She comes from a family not very different from ours." (Bonger, quoted in Jansen and Robert, p. 15.) Jo and Lies did meet, as their brothers had encouraged in January, and in reporting their meeting to his mother, Theo took advantage of the opportunity to file Lies's good report on the suitability of the Bonger family: "How good of [Lies] to go to Amsterdam to get to know her friend [Jo] better. She gives a pleasant report of her visit. Well, the Bongers are kind people; perhaps you will meet them some time when you are in Amsterdam." (ibid.) In fact, the meeting between his mother and Jo's mother -- a mandatory stop on the road to engagement -- did take place in late January 1886. After that set of encounters, the correspondence between Jo and Lies fell off.

Jansen and Robert, p. 15. Mother Van Gogh was in Amsterdam at the time visiting her sister. Daughter Wilemmina accompanied her. (See Ch. 26, n. 403.)

BVG 335, 10/22/1883. (See Ch. 20, n. 383.) The previous plan (from late 1883) is also discussed in JLB 388, 9/21/1883, JLB 393,10/7/1883, and JLB 407, 11/26/1883. See Ch. 20, n. 208, n. 159, and n. 290.

Context:
BVG 335, 10/22/1883: "Under the circumstances -- always taking the necessity of a change for granted -- excellent -- a modern business, in which energy might achieve something -- where one is not hampered by so much routine and so complicated an administration that everything, absolutely everything is paralyzed by it."
JLB 398, 10/22/1883: "In the circumstances -- given the necessity for change -- splendid -- a modern business where activity can still achieve something -- where people don't run up against routine and administration that are so complicated they paralyze everything."

BVG 335, 10/22/1883: "You tell me there is capital ... The directors of this concern are people who mean well, and who intend to sell good things." Presumably, "directors" refers to investors. (See Ch. 20, n. 383.)

Context:
JLB 398, 10/22/1883: "You say there's capital … the employers of that business are people who are serious, and if their plan is to supply good things."

Context:
BVG 335, 10/22/1883: "You tell me there is capital: there is (and this means more than capital) a good apparatus for reproductions …"
JLB 398, 10/22/1883: "You say there's capital, there's a good plant for reproduction (and that means more than capital)."

At least as of the summer of 1886, it is impossible to imagine that Theo foresaw his brother as an active partner with the same rights and responsibilities as Andries Bonger. While he no doubt humored Vincent for the sake of domestic peace, he was manifestly sensitive to Vincent's anti-social behavior and his tendency to quarrel with anyone who disagreed with him -- hardly suitable qualities for a dealer. How could a man whom many considered "fou" (mad) (see Ch. 28, n. 33) reasonably be expected to recruit either collectors or artists to a new venture? In his 1893 memoir, Andries wrote quite definitively, "Vincent was a stimulant for Theo in his work, but there was no question of a collaboration between them" (Bonger, quoted in Stein, p. 97), and Theo himself wrote about Vincent in early 1887: "In the long run it is quite impossible to get on with him" (b0907 V/1962, ''Gogh, Theo van'' to ''Gogh, Cor van'', 3/11/1887).

As for Theo's trust in Vincent's "eye," there is scant evidence that the two brothers agreed about anything other than old favorites like Jean-François Millet and Gustave Brion at this time. Their years of letters prior to Vincent's arrival in Paris are filled with bitter disputes over Impressionism and other avant-garde art, and there are no signs, as of mid-1886, that they had come any closer on these issues. Rewald and others have inferred that the new dealership Theo envisioned would target the market for newer works and newer artists (Rewald, p. 20). The only basis for this hypothesis (other than back-figuring) is a passage from Theo's letter to Jo in July 1887 summarizing the events: "I had several artists in mind whose work I admired and with whom I was sure I could do business" (Jansen and Robert, pp. 63-64). It is a leap to assume either that Theo is referring to avant-garde artists or that he intended his business to deal only in these artists. Given that his previous plans had included "a good plant for reproduction" (JLB 398, 10/22/1883), he clearly understood the need to offer diverse works to diverse clients. Also, he was surely aware of the precarious financial risk of dealing exclusively in avant-garde art. Even established dealers in Impressionism like Durand-Ruel had not yet achieved financial security -- the goal of Theo's venture, after all. To the extent Theo did intend to deal in avant-garde or Impressionist art, these would be the very paintings over which it is least likely he and Vincent saw eye-to-eye at this time. All this would change, of course, over the following year.

See Ch. 28. n. 59.

JLB 568, 8/18/1886: "Do you know that Bonger and S. are sleeping here, and these are strange days." Vincent's question clearly indicates that he did not know in advance that Theo had arranged for Andries Bonger to stay in the apartment during Theo's absence. This suggests the extent to which Theo knew that Vincent needed a caretaker, and that he knew Vincent would resent the imposition of one if he found out about it in advance. Vincent, of course, plotted independently to take advantage of his brother's absence by inviting the mistress S., with whom Theo was fighting, to stay in the apartment alone with him -- proving that he did, in fact, need a caretaker. Although Vincent probably tried to keep his plan a secret (thus Bonger thought Vincent would be "alone" in the apartment after Theo left [see Ch. 28, n. 61]), it is also possible that Theo suspected Vincent's intentions with regard to S. and asked Bonger to move in and act as chaperone. It is impossible to imagine that the prudent Theo condoned, much less concocted, such a parlor-farce arrangement so fraught with potential for embarrassment and disaster.

If we are correct that Theo did not intend a gallery that specialized in avant-garde or Impressionist artists, but only dealt, perhaps, in a few of them (see Ch. 28, n. 59), that raises the question of why Uncle Cent rejected his proposal. Just as the literature commonly accepts that Theo had audacious, forward-looking plans, it assumes that his uncle refused him for that very reason. In fact, Uncle Cent could have rejected the plan for the same reason that Theo's father always advised him against leaving Goupil: firm and family loyalty. It should also be noted that Uncle Cent was quite ill at the time, as attested to by letters from Theo's mother, who was then staying in Breda. Another possible motive is suggested in a letter Vincent wrote to sister Wil in the second half of 1887: "But might it not be that Theo's family and friends in Amsterdam and The Hague haven't treated him and even not received him with the cordiality that he deserved from them and to which he was entitled? I can tell you in that regard that he was perhaps a little hurt by this, but he's otherwise not letting it bother him, and now, when times are so bad in paintings, he's still doing business, so it could be there's some professional jealousy on the part of his Dutch friends." (JLB 574, October 1887.) In addition to the veiled accusation against his old enemy Tersteeg, Vincent inadvertently raises the possibility that Uncle Cent rejected Theo's proposal simply because "times are so bad in paintings" (ibid.).

Context:
JLB 568, 8/18/1886: "And think that it's very good that you've already raised the matter -- and broken the ice in so far as you've spoken to the Dutch gentlemen about it &c. And I don't yet see that my 'it'll go full steam ahead' is wrong, since I myself can see that full steam ahead is in prospect and right now only in so far as our energy must be at full steam ahead. I do see it in prospect. And as to right now, you still remember that I said to you: come away empty-handed this time if need be, but then at least it has been discussed." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
BVG 460, 8/1/1886: "And as to the immediate present, you will remember that I said to you: meet with a refusal this time if necessary, but then in any case the subject is broached -- and then there will have to follow a second trip to Holland by Bonger and you together. For the time being there is every reason to say with Father Pangloss: tout est pour le miex dans le meilleur des mondes [everything is for the best in the best of worlds]."
JLB 568, 8/18/1886: "And as to right now, you still remember that I said to you: come away empty-handed this time if need be, but then at least it has been discussed -- and then there will have to be a second trip to Holland by Bonger and you together. For the time being there's every reason to say, with père Pangloss, all is for the best in the best of possible worlds."

Jansen and Robert, pp. 63-64: According to a letter from Andries Bonger to his parents dated August 27, 1886, Theo returned from his trip on the previous day, Thursday, August 26. (See Ch. 28, n. 83.)

Hulsker, p. 245: Theo lodged two complaints on this subject during Vincent's stay in Paris. One was indirect but undeniable. In March 1887, at the peak of his antagonism with Vincent (there is much criticism of Vincent in the same letter), he wrote his younger brother Cor congratulating him on getting a job and earning a salary for the first time. It is impossible to read this passage -- much less to have written it -- without seeing the implied condemnation of Vincent: "Now I heard from Wil that tomorrow is your first payday and I didn't want to let that pass without congratulating you on the occasion. It will be a happy day, brother, and a stimulation to proceed as you have been doing. You have shown that you don't lack the energy, and if you succeeded at your age to earn your own living it has been through your own effort and strength. Keep it up and make sure that you can be independent, for being dependent is a misery for yourself and for others." (b0907 V/1962, ''Gogh, Theo van'' to ''Gogh, Cor van'', 3/11/1887; emphasis added.) Around the same time, Theo wrote his mother with a related, direct complaint about Vincent's financial irresponsibility: "He has painted a few portraits that worked out very well, but he always does it for free. It is a pity that he does not want to earn something, for if he wanted, that would be possible here; but you cannot change a person." (b0906 V/1962, ''Gogh, Theo van'' to ''Gogh-Carbentus, Anna C. van'', 2/28/1887.) It was probably at Theo's insistence -- or out of his own feelings of guilt at contributing so little to the household income -- that Vincent tried to sell some Japanese prints, which he had started collecting in Antwerp, by showing them at Le Tambourin. Posterity has glorified this "exhibition" as a key turning point in Vincent's art when it appears to have been little more than an unlikely fund-raiser, probably involving images that Vincent deemed fashionable enough to sell but not valuable enough to keep. (See Ch. 28, n. 260 and n. 261.) Apparently, it was not much of a financial success (JLB 640, 7/15/1888).

Context:
JLB 583, 3/9/1888: "Unfortunately I'm hardly managing to live more cheaply than in Paris, I need to allow 5 francs a day."

None of Theo's account books from this period are known to survive. Those that do survive, or have been released, begin in May 1889 immediately after Theo married Jo Bonger in April. These later "joint" account books, which continue past Theo's death in 1890 and end only with Jo's death in 1925, have been published by the Van Gogh Museum as The Account Books of Theo Van Gogh and Jo Van Gogh-Bonger (2002). It is inconceivable that Theo, who was meticulous about money, who had to balance many demands on his earnings, and who had training as a bookkeeper (see Ch. 5, n. 128), did not keep his own account books prior to 1889. Indeed, it was Theo who laid out the first surviving account book, and it was Theo who made all the entries until nine days before his mental and physical collapse on October 10, 1890 (ibid., p. 12). The earliest surviving account book, the one that Theo set up and maintained, had five rubrics (see ibid., pp. 15-18), four of which were probably carried over from the account books he maintained prior to marriage: "Securities" (purchase and sale of marketable securities), "Account Rue Chaptal" (commissions from Boussod & Valadon, formerly Goupil), "Income and Expenses" (salary and daily expenditures), and "Account Vincent [Rekening Vincent]" (payments made to Vincent and on his behalf). On March 6, 1890, Theo posted a single credit, probably the only one he ever posted in this column, for the sale of The Red Vineyard (F 495 JH 1626), the only painting of Vincent's sold in his lifetime.

b4173 V/1989, "Gogh, Elisabeth van" to "Gogh-Carbentus, Anna C., Gogh, Willemina en Cor van", 7/30/1886: Surprisingly, Vincent's mother included him in the invitation to Breda. This is apparent from a letter that Lies wrote her mother (and sister Wil and brother Cor who were living with their mother in Breda) on the eve of Theo's visit. The passage also clearly indicates that the invitation had been extended with some trepidation, if not reluctance, and probably only at Theo's urging: "You must be looking forward to seeing Theo. Who knows whether Vincent will accept your invitation, even though I can imagine that nobody will see a very welcomed guest in him." (ibid.) If Theo did, in fact, urge this invitation, it must have been a subject of argument between the brothers when Vincent rejected it, perhaps in order to stay alone in the apartment (he thought) with the mistress S. (see Ch. 28, n. 130).

b0908 V/1962, "Gogh, Theo van" to "Gogh, Willemina van", 3/14/1887. (See Ch. 28, n. 98.)

Rewald, Post-Impressionism from Van Gogh to Gauguin, p. 40: Guillaumin, who probably knew Theo and met Vincent in the spring of 1887 (see Ch. 28, n. 152) told Coquiot that Vincent was "so quick-tempered, so disorganized, and so tyrannical." Rewald picks up on this characterization: "Theo and Vincent had been separated for ten years, during which time, however, a steady flow of letters had kept them in close contact. But each had developed habits adapted to his own way of life, and now they found it increasingly difficult to share an apartment, or rather it was Theo who had great trouble reconciling his love for neatness, order, and calm with Vincent's conduct. The painter was completely oblivious to his surroundings, careless, and too preoccupied with his own thoughts to pay much attention to the comfort of others; he reigned over his brother's household with an unconscious tyranny."

Context:
JLB 559, 2/6/1886: "Now I can well understand that one can passionately love something or someone that one can't do anything about. Very well -- I won't go into that except in so far as it might make a fatal separation between us where reconciliation is needed. ... But if we stick to the positive idea of wanting to produce and to be something, then we'll be able, without getting angry, to discuss faits accomplis as such when it's unavoidable and might perhaps touch on or directly concern the Goupils or the family. And for the rest, these issues between us are for the understanding of the situation and not out of rancour." (Emphasis in original.)

It is now believed, based on Theo's later medical records, that both the attack in the summer of 1886 and the one the following winter were "early symptoms of dementia paralytica, a neurological complaint caused by syphilis, from which Theo was to die in January 1891" (Stolwijk and Thomson, p. 43). Generalized swelling (angioedema) and joint pain or "stiffness" (arthralgia) are common side-effects of potassium iodide, a compound used in the treatment of syphilis and other ailments at the time. Theo and perhaps Vincent, too, took potassium iodide during the years the brothers lived together in Paris (JLB 611, 5/20/1888).

It is not known exactly when Theo was diagnosed with syphilis. However, by this time he was already seeing Dr. Louis Rivet and being treated with "potassium iodide," the standard remedy for late-stage syphilis (JLB 611, 5/20/1888). (See Ch. 26, n. 202 and n. 199.)

Context:
JLB 574, October 1887: "I must begin by contradicting you where you say that you thought Theo looked 'so wretched' this summer. For my part, I think on the contrary that Theo's appearance has become much more distinguished in the last year. You have to be strong to endure life in Paris the way he has for so many years."

Context:
BVG T1a, 7/10/1887: "In point of fact, it is decidedly improper to be sick or poorly, even if one has a lot of work to do in one's business."

b3024 V/1982, "Koning, A.H." to "Plasschaert, A.", 5/8/1911: In his account to Plasschaert, A. H. Koning, a fellow Dutchman, recalled that when he arrived in Paris in September 1887, Theo was living in a separate apartment from Vincent: "Theodoor had moved closer to his work and I rented half of the [rue Lepic] apartment from him." This surprising possibility might be confirmed in an otherwise unexplained reference in Andries Bonger's better-known account of the turmoil in the Van Gogh brothers' lives in the winter of 1886–87: "One day, Theo, exasperated, left the house and swore that he would only return when Vincent had a place to himself. Shortly thereafter, Vincent left for the South." (Bonger, in Stein, p. 97.) Because it was written only a few years after the events (1893), Bonger's story is hard to dismiss. "Shortly thereafter" could refer to a period of either weeks or months, but probably represents a considerable compression of time in a very sketchy account that covers the entire two-year Paris period. It is unlikely that "shortly thereafter" means "immediately thereafter," which would have the effect of making this showdown the precipitating cause for Vincent's departure to Provence in 1888. By that time, as discussed later in this chapter, the brothers seem to have found a rare interlude of unobstructed fraternity. Since Vincent applied to leave Paris in April 1887 (see Ch. 28, n. 131), and the brothers appear to have made up by May ("I have asked him to stay" [b0911 V/1962, ''Gogh, Theo van'' to ''Gogh, Willemina van'', 4/25/1887]), and since Theo seems bent on action in his letter to Wil in March (see text), spring 1887 seems a likely time for the dramatic, coercive gesture of moving to another apartment, as described by Bonger and Koning. However, Koning did not arrive in Paris until September 1887, and Theo appears to have moved back into the apartment by the summer. So either some of the witnesses' dating is wrong or perhaps Theo abandoned the apartment more than once in 1887. Van Crimpen questions whether Koning stayed in the apartment at all, or just used Vincent's studio (Van Crimpen, p. 85).

See Ch. 26, n. 470.

Context:
BVG 456, 2/18/1886: "So let's act wisely. They care a little for outdoor studies, but not much. And the people who have been in Paris all say the same thing."
JLB 564, 2/18/1886: "So let's do it sensibly. They have some interest, but not a lot, in studies that one makes outdoors. And the fellows who've been in Paris all tell me the same thing."

Context:
JLB 565, 2/22/1886: "Moreover, my health -- when I paint outdoors I don't eat -- and I won't overcome it. For I keep relapsing; my constitution is still far from strong."

See Ch. 27, n. 66. Even Vincent's sketches from visits to the Tuilleries and the Luxembourg, which feature haute bourgeois society promenading through formal gardens, hardly constitute "landscapes" within Theo's meaning of the word. In this regard, it is interesting that Vincent does not appear to have ever visited the Bois de Boulogne, the vast and much more rural park on the western edge of the city -- far from Montmartre, indeed, but not much farther than the Luxembourg Garden to the south.

Interior of a Restaurant, F 342 JH 1256, June-July 1887, oil on canvas, 17.9 by 22.2 inches, 45.5 by 56.5 cm., Kröller-Müller Museum, Otterlo. Also see Exterior of a Restaurant at Asnières (F 321 JH 1311), an exterior view of a restaurant in Asnières. There are no distinguishing markings, but either or both of these views may be of the restaurant Vincent refers to (with seeming affection) as "Old Perruchot's" in an 1888 letter from Arles in which he describes his relationship with the "Contesse de la Boissière" in Asnières: "She stays in boulevard Voltaire, on the first floor of the first house at the end of the Clichy bridge. Père Perruchot's restaurant is on the ground floor." (JLB 611, 5/20/1888.) However, Welsh-Ovcharov cites an unpublished note from Coquiot in the VGA, which identifies the interior depicted in Interior of a Restaurant (F 342 JH 1256) as "a restaurant on 'avenue de Clichy'" and questions if it is, in fact, the interior of the Restaurant du Chalet where Vincent staged an exhibition in November 1887 (Welsh-Ovcharov, Vincent van Gogh, p. 234; see later in this chapter). Welsh-Ovcharov supports this suggestion by identifying the painting on the wall of the interior as a landscape that Vincent painted in the spring, Lane in Voyer d'Argenson Park at Asnières (F 276 JH 1259). While the tiny painting-within-a-painting in Interior of a Restaurant (F 342 JH 1256) is organized very much like Lane in Voyer d'Argenson Park at Asnières (F 276 JH 1259), the interior depicted bears no resemblance to contemporary descriptions of the Restaurant du Chalet (Georges Seurat called it "an immense skylighted hall" [Kerssemakers in Stein, ed., p. 54]; Antonio Cristobal called it "an immense place, 'like a Methodist chapel'" [Cristobal, in Stein, ed., p. 281]). As a low-priced, working-class establishment, the du Chalet would not have had tablecloths, crystal, and big bouquets of flowers on its tables, as depicted in Interior of a Restaurant (F 342 JH 1256) (see Rewald, Post-Impressionism from Van Gogh to Gauguin, p. 62; and Bernard, "Les Hommes d'Aujourd'hui," in Stein, ed., p. 284). Nor could the interior depicted in Interior of a Restaurant (F 342 JH 1256) have held the fifty to one-hundred paintings that were reportedly included in the November exhibition. (According to Bernard, the restaurant "provided an area in which over a thousand canvases could be displayed" [quoted in Rewald, Post-Impressionism from Van Gogh to Gauguin, p. 64].) An alternate possibility is that Vincent hung Lane in Voyer d'Argenson Park at Asnières (F 276 JH 1259) in the restaurant he refers to as "Old Perruchot's" in Asnières, perhaps as part of his little-known courtship with the "Contesse de la Boissière" who lived in the same building (see Ch. 28, n. 150). Interestingly, Vincent locates this restaurant on the boulevard Voltaire in Asnières "at the end of the Pont de Clichy" -- not the "Avenue de Clichy" (JLB 815, 10/25/1889).

Wilkie, p. 30. Coquiot gives a similar account, based, ostensibly, on his interview with Guillaumin: "between the two brothers it was a never-ending battle, once they had started on that subject [Impressionism]; and Theo, who was so disheartened at having to sell bad pictures, got to the point where he would hurry to return to his gloomy gallery, in order to have a little peace at last" (Coquiot, pp. 136-138). Although Guillaumin did not become a part of the Van Gogh brothers' "circle" until the fall of 1887, he may well have visited the apartment sometime that spring after Theo visited the Revue Indépendante show in February or March and expressed an interest in his work. Guillaumin and Theo exchanged friendly letters soon thereafter (see Ch. 28, n. 152) and there are hints of social interactions around that time.

Portrait of the Art Dealer Alexander Reid, Sitting in an Easy Chair, F 270 JH 1207, 1886–87, cardboard, 16.1 by 13 inches, 41 by 33 cm., Norman, Oklahoma -- Fred Jones Jr. Museum of Art (University of Oklahoma) and Portrait of the Art Dealer Alexander Reid, F 343 JH 1250, Spring 1887, cardboard, 16.3 by 13.2 inches, 41.5 by 33.5 cm., Glasgow, Glasgow Art Gallery and Museum. The second of these is in a much looser, more Pointillist style than the first and is often therefore dated to mid-1887 (see Fowle, Alexander Reid in Context: Collecting and Dealing in Scotland in the late 19th and Early 20th Centuries, p. 28), while the first is generally dated to early 1887, if not late 1886. It is highly unlikely that Vincent painted Reid after the two parted on unfriendly terms sometime in early 1887. (See Ch. 28, n. 115.) However, Reid came to Paris and met Theo in September 1886 and could have sat for his first portrait by Vincent soon thereafter, thus allowing four or five months between the two images. Reid is dressed in what appears to be exactly the same clothes in both pictures and the possibility cannot be excluded -- especially given the strained relationship between painter and sitter -- that they were done in the same sitting and Vincent was merely "playing" with the Pointillist technique in one of them.

Rewald, Post-Impressionism from Van Gogh to Gauguin, p. 51. (See Ch. 28, n. 170.)

Signac recalled to Coquiot: "I met [Vincent] several times at Asnières and Saint-Ouen" -- a phrasing that seems to avoid implying that either the initial encounter or the subsequent encounters, were pre-arranged. (See Ch. 28, n. 182.)

Theo (who described Signac in a letter to Jo Bonger not as Vincent's friend but as "an acquaintance of mine" [b2050 V/1982, ''Gogh, Theo van'' to ''Bonger, Jo'', 3/16/1889]) had importuned Signac, who was traveling to the southern coast of France, to stop on his way and check up on his troubled brother, who had been involuntarily committed to an asylum by the authorities in Arles (JLB 749, 3/16/1889). Vincent's cool reaction to the prospect of Signac's visit hardly befits the reunion of old friends: "It would certainly give me pleasure to see Signac if he must pass through here anyway" (JLB 751, 3/22/1889); and his description of the visit afterwards makes it sound almost as if the two were meeting for the first time: "I find Signac very calm, whereas people say he's so violent, he gives me the impression of someone who has his self-confidence and balance" (JLB 752, 3/24/1889). After his hasty departure, Signac sent Theo a letter reporting on his visit in which he refers to Vincent throughout as "your brother," never "Vincent." In a startling failure of insight, attention, or honesty, he boldly vouched for Vincent's "perfect health, physically and mentally" (BVG 581a, 3/26/1889; note that JLB do not translate this letter) -- a story that he stuck with forty years later in his account to Pels ("Never did [Vincent] give me the impression of being a madman" [quoted in Hulsker, p. 402]). Signac also relayed to Theo the report of Vincent's doctor as well as Vincent's complaints about his meddlesome neighbors, summarizing sympathetically, "How dismal the life he is living must be for him" (ibid.). After leaving, Signac also sent Vincent a very brief, cordial postcard (signed "P. Signac") from the town of Cassis, on the coast near Marseille. In it, he seems as concerned about his correspondence with Theo as about Vincent's health (JLB 755, 4/8/1889). Vincent's letter of thanks to Signac after his visit, like the letter to Livens in 1886, is strangely, simultaneously formal ("remain much obliged to you for your most friendly and beneficial visit") and longingly intimate ("the best consolation, if not the only remedy, is, it still seems to me, profound friendships") (JLB 756, 4/10/1889).

That longing for intimacy, apparently, soon morphed into delusion. Two weeks after Signac's departure, Vincent wrote his brother: "Signac has asked me to join him in Cassis" (JLB 758, 4/14/1889-4/17/1889) -- a claim that is not remotely suggested in Signac's card nor in any of Vincent's three intervening letters to Theo since Signac's departure from Arles (JLB 752-754). Only a few weeks later, in his last letter before entering the asylum at St. Remy, Vincent mentions Signac one last time -- "Is Signac back in Paris yet?" (JLB 768, 5/3/1889) -- apparently having already forgotten that he was ensconced for the summer on the coast.

What this later story tells us about the relationship between Signac and Vincent in Paris is that the younger man was probably cordial in their chance encounters around Asnières (note how the Coquiot account finesses the issue of whether Signac sought out Vincent's company or vice versa), but he shared the disdain for Vincent's odd manners and rude enthusiasms that was, according to Theo's own testimony, common among those who met Vincent in Paris at the time. This disdain is undoubtedly what discouraged their social interactions (Vincent's absence from Signac's soirées [see Ch. 28, n. 186] and Signac's failure to make introductions [see Ch. 28, n. 185]) and probably also discouraged Vincent's visits to Signac's studio (see Ch. 28, n. 186). Despite this consistent biographical picture, the literature generally clings to the view that the two artists enjoyed a close friendship in Paris, based largely on perceived affinities in their art. For more on that subject, see Ch. 28, n. 192.

A number of artists whom Signac knew and had regular contact with in the time he and Vincent reportedly painted together in Asnières either never met Vincent or did not meet him until later. Most notable among the latter are Lucien Pissarro, Émile Bernard, Paul Gauguin, and Georges Seurat and (see Rewald, pp. 39, 55). It appears from a letter Vincent wrote after leaving Paris that Vincent and Theo encountered Signac once during the four or five months between Signac's return to Paris in the fall of 1887 and Vincent's departure in February 1888 (JLB 585, 3/16/1888). Welsh-Ovcharov takes this as proof not only of a "friendship" between Vincent and Signac but also that the friendship survived Signac's long absence from Paris in 1887 (Welsh-Ovcharov, Vincent Van Gogh, p. 32). However, this is the only recorded or recalled encounter between Vincent and Signac in the fall and winter of 1887–88 -- hardly a record that supports an inference of "friendship," much less close friendship. While it is true that during Vincent's last six months in Paris, his close association with Émile Bernard, who was feuding with Signac at the time, might have dampened his relations with Signac, that very dampening, if it occurred, speaks to the tenuousness of their connection. (For more on the question of Vincent and Signac's relationship, see Ch. 28, n. 182.)

While it is certainly possible that Vincent paid one or even several visits to Signac's studio in Montmartre, his familiarity with Signac's earlier work (i.e., 1883–86) could have been gained, as Welsh-Ovcharov points out, "from various public exhibitions, the works deposited chez Tanguy, [or] joint painting excursions" in addition to or rather than studio visits (Welsh-Ovcharov, p. 163). Given Vincent's retentive eye, a single viewing could explain the apparent allusions to Signac's earlier work in Vincent's still lifes with Parisian novels from later that year (Still Life with French Novels and a Rose [F 359 JH 1332], Still Life with Plaster Statuette, a Rose and Two Novels [F 360 JH 1349]), assuming that the works do not merely have common models such as Monet (a possibility raised by Cachin and left open by Welsh-Ovcharov, Vincent van Gogh, p. 162). Furthermore, Vincent almost certainly visited Signac's studio in Asnières (see Ch. 28, n. 180), where some of the artist's earlier works were undoubtedly available for viewing. Hammacher makes much more far-reaching claims about Vincent's familiarity with and reliance on Signac's early work (Hammacher, in Welsh-Ovcharov, ed., pp. 143-145), yet Vincent's only recorded comments about Signac's art relate solely to his divisionist work and ideas, not to his earlier work (JLB 669, 8/26/1888; JLB 683, 9/18/1888; JLB 689, 9/26/1888). For more on the personal relationship between Vincent and Signac, see Ch. 28, n. 182 and n. 192.

Cachin believes Vincent was probably "struck" by Charles Angrand's Ligne de l'Quest at the Salon des Indépendants exhibition in the late summer of 1886 (Cachin, pp. 230-231). (For a discussion of Vincent's personal interaction with Angrand, probably in November 1886, see Ch. 27, n. 249 and n. 250.)

Rewald, Cachin, and others presume that Vincent had met Camille Pissarro by the time he encountered Signac in Asnières, and further that Vincent had already obtained "sober information" on pointillism from Pissarro by this time (Rewald, Post-Impressionism from Van Gogh to Gauguin, pp. 52-53 and Cachin p. 231). We can find no substantiation for either claim, and we agree with Jampoller that Vincent did not meet Pissarro until the summer of 1887 (Jampoller, p. 50). 

That is not the same thing as a causal connection, however. Even to say that Signac's appearance was catalytic is an exaggeration of its true role in re-shaping Vincent's art; "contributory" would be closer to the mark. Secondly, we disagree with the anachronistic categorizing of Vincent's style and stylistic development. As a shorthand, labels like "Impressionist" and "Pointillist" can be helpful for study purposes, but they impose a distortive order and inevitability on a lived life that was -- especially in Vincent's case -- disorderly and halting. Progress becomes a march rather than a wandering with occasionally fortuitous results. We do agree with the commentary that cites Signac as a precedent for some of Vincent's later still lifes, both in Paris and in Arles; but only in the way that many other artists occasionally served as goals or points-of-departure for Vincent's questing imagination. In all such cases, the key causal question is why he lighted on those artists or those images on those occasions? Others have made far more specifically extravagant claims for the influence of Signac's art -- especially his earlier art -- on Vincent's work in 1886, 1887, and afterward (see, e.g., Hammacher, in Welsh-Ovcharov, ed., pp. 143-144).

Still others have stepped back from the stark assertion of Signac's paramount influence and posited the more modest coincidental, contributory influence on Vincent's art that we see. Even Welsh-Ovcharov recognizes that broad claims about an artist's sources or development should be hedged with Wittgensteinian reticence. ("This is not to say that the relationship [between Vincent and Signac] was so close that one must predicate an exclusive or even dominant influence from Signac" [Welsh-Ovcharov, Vincent van Gogh, p. 31]. "This fact alone should forewarn us against any simplistic supposition that Vincent was obliged by the rules of art history, so to speak, to follow the normal Realist, Impressionist and Post-Impressionist sequence" [ibid., p. 157].)

Lengthy, open-ended disputations of the sort occasioned by Vincent's relationship to Signac will continue as long as Vincent's art is studied, but care should be taken to separate such discussions from the biographical record. Especially when that record is thin, as in this case, it is tempting to fill it in with assumptions about personal affinities derived from the shifting, shadow world of perceived artistic affinities. This is a treacherous business. Hammacher's claims for Vincent's reliance on Signac's earlier depictions of Butte Montmartre, are a perfect example(Hammacher, in Welsh-Ovcharov, ed., pp. 143-145). Such a reliance violates both the depth (frequency and breadth of mutual exposure) and the scope (intellectual and artistic exchange) of their known relationship. In short, their contact was far too slight and shallow for the kind of in-depth knowledge of Signac's career that the claim requires.

If the works in question were more nearly identical, or if other explanations for their similarities were not so readily available (see Cachin, p. 229, who proposes Guillaumin as their shared model), then, in the absence of biographical evidence to the contrary, an artistic affinity might support the imputation of a personal affinity. But none of those counterweighing factors is present. The example of Vincent's still lifes with Parisian novels, on the other hand, persuades precisely because the artistic and personal affinities align better -- not perfectly, but better. The identity between the two sets of images is more pronounced and otherwise less explicable (excepting the remote possibility of a common model in Monet), while the biographical factors either remain unchanged or perhaps argue more favorably, if one makes the defensible inference that Vincent intended to reach out to Signac after the latter's return to Paris in November 1887 -- an overture completely consistent with his efforts at that time to establish liaisons with many artists as part of his revived "joint enterprise" with his brother, as discussed later in this chapter.

In addition to Vincent's alarming readiness to form a suicide pact as reported by Reid (see Ch. 28, n. 117), Vincent closes his letter to Theo in midsummer with this oddly breezy, but surely pointed aside: "If you live well you spend more, but you also gain more ground, and perhaps these days we do better if we look rich than if we look hard up. It's better to have fun than to kill yourself. Warm regards to all at home." (JLB 572, 7/23/1887-7/25/1887.) In addition to this disturbing casualness about suicide, Vincent has another image of welcomed death on his mind: Christ. He writes Wil around the same time: "Nowadays I believe Jesus himself would again say to those who just sit melancholy, it is not here, it is risen. Why seek ye the living among the dead?" (JLB 574, October 1887.) (Vincent's command of scripture has eroded in his years of unbelieving. The passage that he appears to be grasping for is from Matthew: "He is not here: for he is risen, as he said. Come, see the place where the Lord lay." [28:6] But he seems to have spliced it with another passage from Luke: "And as they were afraid, and bowed down their faces to the earth, they said unto them, Why seek ye the living among the dead?" [24:5])

Context:
BVG W1, 6/21/1887-12/21/1887: "My own adventures are confined chiefly to making swift progress toward growing into a little old man -- you know, with wrinkles, a tough beard and a number of false teeth, and so on. ... I often work with pleasure and can visualize the vague possibility of one day doing paintings with some youth and freshness in them, even though my own youth is one of the things I have lost."
JLB 574, October 1887: "My own fortunes dictate above all that I'm making rapid progress in growing up into a little old man, you know, with wrinkles, with a bristly beard, with a number of false teeth &c. ... I often work with pleasure, and I see the possibility glimmering through of making paintings in which there's some youth and freshness, although my own youth is one of those things I've lost."

But without doubt the strangest passage of this long letter comes after Vincent has systematically demolished Wil's schoolgirl artistic illusions with his bitter cynicism: "If I were living near you, I'd try to make you understand that it might be more practical for you to paint with me than to write, and that you might be more able to express your feelings that way" (ibid.). In support of this surreal, pathetic, Drenthe-like invitation, Vincent beautifully invokes the ineffable artistic spark that he has spent the entire letter trying to extinguish: "Anyway, it's not a bad idea for you to want to become an artist, because if one has fire in one, and soul, one can't keep stifling them and -- one would rather burn than suffocate" (ibid.). The outburst seems momentarily to inspire Vincent himself to some semblance of optimism: "Me, for instance, it gives me air when I make a painting, and without that I'd be unhappier than I am" (ibid.). But in a postscript, he vetoes even this feint of hope, and seems to fall back into an unqualified rejection of the magic release through art that his sister seeks: "Anyway, think carefully about whether it isn't better, if one has a feeling for art and wants to work in it, to say that one is doing it because one was created with that feeling and can't do anything else and is following one's nature, than to say one is doing it for a good cause" (ibid.).

Context:
JLB 574, October 1887: "Now what shall I say about your little piece about the plants and the rain? You see for yourself in nature that many a flower is trampled, freezes or is parched, further that not every grain of wheat, once it has ripened, ends up in the earth again to germinate there and become a stalk -- but far and away the most grains do not develop but go to the mill -- don't they? ... Now we, I think, stand there pulling a long face or at a loss for words when, being thwarted in our natural development, we see that germination frustrated and ourselves placed in circumstances as hopeless as they must be for the wheat between the millstones. If this happens to us and we're utterly bewildered by the loss of our natural life, there are some among us who, willing to submit themselves to the course of things as they are, nonetheless don't abandon their self-awareness and want to know how things are with them and what's actually happening." (Emphasis in original.)

Context:
JLB 574, October 1887: "Art often seems to be something very lofty and, as you say, something sacred. But that's true of love too. And the problem is simply that not everyone thinks about it like that, and those who feel something of it and allow themselves to be swept away by it suffer greatly, firstly because of being misunderstood, but as much because our inspiration is so often inadequate or the work is made impossible by circumstances. One should be able to do two or preferably several things at the same time. And there are times when it's by no means clear to us that art should be something sacred or good."

Context:
BVG W1, 6/21/1887-12/21/1887: "And there are certainly times when it is far from clear to us that art should be something sacred or good."
JLB 574, October 1887: "And there are times when it's by no means clear to us that art should be something sacred or good."

Context:
BVG W1, 6/21/1887-12/21/1887: "What the germinating force is to the grain, love is to us. Now we tend to stand about pulling a long face and at a loss for words, I think, when, thwarted in our natural development, we find that germination has been foiled and we ourselves placed in circumstances as hopeless as they must be for a grain between the millstones."
JLB 574, October 1887: "What the power to germinate is in wheat, so love is in us. Now we, I think, stand there pulling a long face or at a loss for words when, being thwarted in our natural development, we see that germination frustrated and ourselves placed in circumstances as hopeless as they must be for the wheat between the millstones."

Context:
BVG W1, 6/21/1887-12/21/1887: "You can see yourself that in nature many flowers are trampled underfoot, frozen or scorched, and for that matter not every grain of corn returns to the soil after ripening to germinate and grow into a blade of corn -- indeed, that by far the greatest number of grains of corn do not develop fully but end up at the mill -- isn't this so?"
JLB 574, October 1887: "You see for yourself in nature that many a flower is trampled, freezes or is parched, further that not every grain of wheat, once it has ripened, ends up in the earth again to germinate there and become a stalk -- but far and away the most grains do not develop but go to the mill -- don't they?" (emphasis in original).

Context:
BVG W1, 6/21/1887-12/21/1887: "Doesn't it say in A la recherche du bonheur that evil lies in our own nature -- which we have not created ourselves? I think it so admirable of the moderns that they do not moralize like the old ones. Thus many people are appalled and scandalized by 'Le vice et la vertu sont des produits chimiques, comme le sucre et le vitriol' [Vice and virtue are chemical products, like sugar and bile]."
JLB 574, October 1887: "Does it not say in A la recherche du bonheur that evil lies in our own natures -- which we didn't create ourselves? What I think is so good about the moderns is that they don't moralize like the old ones. It seems coarse to many people, for instance, and they're angered by it: vice and virtue are chemical products like sugar and vitriol."

Context:
BVG W1, 6/21/1887-12/21/1887: "Doesn't it say in A la recherche du bonheur that evil lies in our own nature -- which we have not created ourselves? I think it so admirable of the moderns that they do not moralize like the old ones. Thus many people are appalled and scandalized by 'Le vice et la vertu sont des produits chimiques, comme le sucre et le vitriol' [Vice and virtue are chemical products, like sugar and bile.]"
JLB 574, October 1887: "Does it not say in A la recherche du bonheur that evil lies in our own natures -- which we didn't create ourselves? What I think is so good about the moderns is that they don't moralize like the old ones. It seems coarse to many people, for instance, and they're angered by it: vice and virtue are chemical products like sugar and vitriol."

Context:
BVG W1, 6/21/1887-12/21/1887: "My own adventures are confined chiefly to making swift progress toward growing into a little old man -- you know, with wrinkles, a tough beard and a number of false teeth, and so on."
JLB 574, October 1887: "My own fortunes dictate above all that I'm making rapid progress in growing up into a little old man, you know, with wrinkles, with a bristly beard, with a number of false teeth &c."

Context:
BVG 462, 6/21/1887-9/22/1887: "And although I already feel old and broken, I can still be amorous enough at times to feel less passionate about painting."
JLB 572, 7/23/1887-7/25/1887: "And sometimes I already feel old and broken, but still sufficiently in love to stop me being enthusiastic about painting."

Context:
BVG 336, 10/28/1883: "If the woman came, of course she would have to paint too."
JLB 400, 10/28/1883: "If the woman came, of course she'd have to paint too."

Context:
BVG 336, 10/28/1883: "And in this case, if persons of the same sentiment, persons who have the same pretty serious misery, combine to see things through, what I say is, the more the merrier."
JLB 400, 10/28/1883: "And in this case, if people of the same sentiment, people in the same rather serious misfortune, should join forces to see it through together, I say the more the merrier."

Context:
BVG 453, 2/14/1886: "Now that we are discussing things, I want to tell you to begin with that I wish both of us might find a wife in some way or other before long, for it is high time, and if we should wait too long, we should not be the better for it."
JLB 562, 2/14/1886: "I want to tell you at the start of our conversation about one thing and another that I wish that before too long we could both have acquired a wife, one way or another."

Context:
JLB 568, 8/18/1886: "If you could enter into this arrangement yourself, then I see as the first consequence for you that you would feel yourself an entirely free man and your own engagement would go full steam ahead."

Context:
BVG 460, 8/1/1886: "I am ready to take S. off your hands, preferably without having to marry her, but if the worst comes to the worst even agreeing to a marriage de raison [marriage of convenience]."
JLB 568, 8/18/1886: "I'm prepared to take S. over from you, preferably, though, without marrying her, but if it works out better then even with a marriage of convenience" (emphasis in original).

Here is an abridged version of what he wrote. It is interesting for its extraordinary effort to cast Vincent's past troubles in a positive (i.e., poetic) light and to avoid their darker aspects (e.g., mental instability, which was considered by many an hereditary affliction and therefore had implications for Theo as well as any children he might father): "I have a brother 5 years older than I, who lives with me & is a painter. He too worked for Goupil 15 years ago & had a promising career before him. ... However, his life underwent a radical transformation & only later was I to experience myself the battle he was waging against doubt. It was like a violent storm breaking above him. The outcome was that he obeyed to the letter what the bible says, 'sell that thou hast, and follow me.' At first he did so as the church intended, but it was impossible for someone with his great mind to maintain such a petty view. He sought to live for others & by sacrificing himself completely managed to do a great deal for the poor and unfortunate. But everyone, without exception, people who are considered pious, those he himself loved dearly, even his father & mother condemned him for his disregard of more temporal matters & his refusal to yield to society as it is, be it at the expense of what was best in him. It was hard for him & for me too, for though I didn't share the experience of this profound change in his view of life, I empathise with him in many respects & tried to help him whenever I could. It was hard because he felt the world was barren, and it would have driven him to despair had he not been able to pursue his studies with unflagging energy & not found in art a more satisfying outlet than that he had previously found in his religious studies. Perhaps you'll think that what I am telling you about him has nothing to do with us, at least when it comes to giving you a glimpse into my heart. But having been through so much with him & having pondered his views on life, I would feel I were concealing something important were I not to tell you about my relationship with him from the start."

Context:
JLB 574, October 1887: "I still continually have the most impossible and highly unsuitable love affairs from which, as a rule, I emerge only with shame and disgrace."

Context:
BVG 489, 5/20/1888: "Perhaps it is an illusion of mine, but I cannot help thinking of it, and perhaps it would give pleasure both to them and to you if you met them."
JLB 611, 5/20/1888: "Perhaps I'm deluding myself -- but I can't help thinking of them, and perhaps it will be a pleasure for them and for you too, if you meet them."

Context:
BVG 462, 6/21/1887-9/22/1887: "I'm rather depressed that I should be like that [i.e., unmarried] as I approach 35, when I ought to be feeling quite the opposite. And sometimes I blame it all on this rotten painting."
JLB 572, 7/23/1887-7/25/1887: "I'm quite melancholy to be like that [i.e., unmarried] at 35 when I ought to feel quite differently. And sometimes I blame this damned painting."

Context:
BVG 462, 6/21/1887-9/22/1887: "It was Richepin who said somewhere: the love of art is the undoing of true love."
JLB 572, 7/23/1887-7/25/1887: "It was Richepin who said somewhere the love of art makes us lose real love."

Context:
JLB 574, October 1887: "It would please me if you would write and tell me how Margot Begemann is doing."

Context:
BVG W1, 6/21/1887-12/21/1887: "Did Sien de Groot marry her cousin? And did her child live?"
JLB 574, October 1887: " Did Sien de Groot marry her cousin? And did her child live?"

Context:
JLB 574, October 1887: "… how they're doing at De Groot's. How did that business turn out?"

Context:
BVG W1, 6/21/1887-12/21/1887: "Of my own work I think that the picture of peasants eating potatoes I did in Nuenen is après tout [after all] the best I've done."
JLB 574, October 1887: "What I think about my own work is that the painting of the peasants eating potatoes that I did in Nuenen is after all the best thing I did."

Context:
BVG W1, 6/21/1887-12/21/1887: "And in my own opinion I am absolutely right to do this, since, as I keep telling myself, in years gone by, when I ought to have been in love, I gave myself up to religious and socialist affairs, and considered art holier than I do now."
JLB 574, October 1887: "And in this I'm absolutely right, in my own view, because I tell myself that in earlier years, when I should have been in love, I immersed myself in religious and socialist affairs and considered art more sacred, more than now."

Context:
BVG W1, 6/21/1887-12/21/1887: "People who do nothing but fall in love are perhaps more serious and saintly than those who sacrifice their love and their hearts to an idea."
JLB 574, October 1887: "People who do nothing other than be in love are perhaps more serious and holier than those who sacrifice their love and their heart to an idea."

There are far simpler, more credible explanations for the oddities Van Tilborgh cites, however, than to suppose that Vincent lugged a table and stools from the restaurant to his studio (or that Segatori, or her manager, allowed him to do so). If Vincent came to the restaurant when it was not open to the public, either on a weekday or a Sunday, he could easily have encountered the proprietress on her way out the door -- "dressed to go out" -- and waylaid her long enough to make the sketch on which the painting was undoubtedly based (thus the impatient look on her face). Van Tilborgh identifies Japanese prints in the background. This has often been taken as a specific reference to the Japanese prints that Vincent hung on the walls of Le Tambourin for sale. However, the walls shown in the portrait could have been added by Vincent after the initial drawing was made, or at least "decorated" based on the studio, in which the painting was completed, rather than the restaurant where it began. A change of venue would, in fact, account for many of the vagaries and distortions of perspective in the "space of the café," that Van Tilborgh is at pains to explain (Van Tilborgh, p. 78).

Context:
JLB 571, 7/17/1887-7/19/1887: "He still is, when it comes down to it, but his old witch of a wife noticed what was going on and objected to it."

Van Tilborgh identifies the display at Le Tambourin for exactly what it was, "a sales exhibition" (Van Tilborgh, p. 78). This explains why the event was not mentioned by anyone, even Vincent, until a year later, in Arles, when he recalls self-deludedly (in the throes of his obsession that Provence is Japan [see Ch. 28]) that the "exhibition" he staged at Le Tambourin the year before had "quite an influence on [Louis] Anquetin and Bernard" (JLB 640, 7/15/1888). In fact, Anquetin and Bernard were steeped in japonaiserie by the time of Vincent's fire sale. Vincent's claim that he "got Anquetin and Bernard to learn" about Japanese prints by taking them to a prominent dealer in such prints is likely another product, at least in part, of his Japanomania in 1888, not a reliable reconstruction of the events of 1887 (JLB 642, 7/15/1888). None of this is to suggest that Japanese prints did not, in fact, have a profound influence on Vincent's art starting in the fall of 1887, as discussed later in this chapter, or that Anquetin and Bernard were not central to that influence. But the turns of Vincent's obsessive imagination should not be read back into previous events, conferring on him priorities he does not deserve. Partly because of his social, emotional and often physical isolation, Vincent was rarely the first to see things; his greatness lay in the unique way he saw what others had already seen.

Context:
BVG 462, 6/21/1887-9/22/1887: "But at the moment she is in a difficult situation, she is neither a free agent nor mistress in her own house, on top of which she's in pain and unwell."
JLB 572, 7/23/1887-7/25/1887: "But now she's in an awkward position, she's neither free nor mistress in her own house, and most of all, she's sick and ill."

Context:
BVG 462, 6/21/1887-9/22/1887: "When I saw her last, she didn't tread all over my heart, which she would have done had she been as nasty as people say."
JLB 572, 7/23/1887-7/25/1887: "When I saw her again she didn't hurt my feelings, which she would have done if she was as nasty as people say she is."

Context:
BVG 462, 6/21/1887-9/22/1887: "After all, I know her well enough to trust her still."
JLB 572, 7/23/1887-7/25/1887: "But I know her well enough still to trust her."

Context:
BVG 461, 6/21/1887-9/22/1887: "That as she didn't come to see me, my feeling was that she knew they were trying to pick a quarrel with me, but that she had tried to warn me by saying, 'Go away,' which I hadn't understood, and furthermore, perhaps didn't want to understand."
JLB 571, 7/17/1887-7/19/1887: "That as she didn't come to see me I would take it that she knew people were trying to pick a fight with me, but that she'd tried to warn me by saying -- go away -- which I didn't understand, and besides would perhaps not have wanted to understand."

Context:
JLB 571, 7/17/1887-7/19/1887: "She claimed that I'd tried to pick a fight -- which doesn't surprise me -- knowing that appalling things would be done to her if she took my side."

Context:
JLB 571, 7/17/1887-7/19/1887: "She [Segatori] didn't know that the waiter had gone up to your place."

Context:
JLB 571, 7/17/1887-7/19/1887: "She didn't know that the waiter had gone up to your place."

Context:
JLB 571, 7/17/1887-7/19/1887: "I've been to the Tambourin, because if I didn't go there people would have thought I didn't dare. ... people were trying to pick a fight with me."

Context:
JLB 574, October 1887: "For my part, I still continually have the most impossible and highly unsuitable love affairs from which, as a rule, I emerge only with shame and disgrace."

Context:
BVG 461, 6/21/1887-9/22/1887: "If that's true, I would be more inclined to believe she had tried to warn me they were trying to pick a quarrel with me than that she had plotted the whole thing herself."
JLB 571, 7/17/1887-7/19/1887: "If that's true -- I would be even more inclined to believe it was more the case that she'd tried to warn me people were trying to pick a fight with me, than that she'd been up to something herself."

Context:
BVG 462, 6/21/1887-9/22/1887: " You can be sure of one thing -- I shan't be trying to do any more work for the Tambourin. Anyway, I think it's about to change hands, and I most certainly won't raise any objections to that."
JLB 572, 7/23/1887-7/25/1887: " You can be sure of one thing, and that's that I won't try to do any more work for the Tambourin. I think it's going to change hands, too, and of course I'm not against that."

Context:
BVG 462, 6/21/1887-9/22/1887: "But at the moment she is in a difficult situation, she is neither a free agent nor mistress in her own house, on top of which she's in pain and unwell."
JLB 572, 7/23/1887-7/25/1887: "But now she's in an awkward position, she's neither free nor mistress in her own house, and most of all, she's sick and ill."

Context:
BVG 462, 6/21/1887-9/22/1887: "Although I wouldn't say so openly -- I'm convinced she's had an abortion (unless, that is, she did have a miscarriage) -- anyway, in her case I don't hold it against her."
JLB 572, 7/23/1887-7/25/1887: "Although I wouldn't say so in public -- I'm personally convinced she's had an abortion (unless of course she had a miscarriage) -- whatever the case, in her situation I wouldn't blame her."

Context:
JLB 572, 7/23/1887-7/25/1887: "I still feel affection for her and I hope she still feels some for me."

Context:
JLB 572, 7/23/1887-7/25/1887: "In two months she'll be better, I hope, and then perhaps she'll be grateful that I didn't bother her."

Context:
BVG 462, 6/21/1887-9/22/1887: "If you were to fall properly in love and were to get married, then it doesn't seem impossible to me that you might manage to acquire a country house like so many other art dealers. If one lives well, one spends more, but also gains more ground, and perhaps nowadays one does better looking rich than looking hard up. It's better to enjoy life than to do away with oneself."
JLB 572, 7/23/1887-7/25/1887: "And if you really fell in love and then got married, I wouldn't think it impossible that you too might manage to get hold of a house in the country, like so many other picture dealers. If you live well you spend more, but you also gain more ground, and perhaps these days we do better if we look rich than if we look hard up. It's better to have fun than to kill yourself."

Context:
JLB 572, 7/23/1887-7/25/1887: "… there's open air and good cheer in them. Now the whole lot will make a decoration for a dining room or a house in the country."

Context:
BVG 462, 6/21/1887-9/22/1887: "If one lives well, one spends more, but also gains more ground, and perhaps nowadays one does better looking rich than looking hard up."
JLB 572, 7/23/1887-7/25/1887: "If you live well you spend more, but you also gain more ground, and perhaps these days we do better if we look rich than if we look hard up."

Context:
BVG 462, 6/21/1887-9/22/1887: "It's better to enjoy life than to do away with oneself."
JLB 572, 7/23/1887-7/25/1887: "It's better to have fun than to kill yourself."

Context:
BVG 462, 6/21/1887-9/22/1887: "It's better to enjoy life than to do away with oneself."
JLB 572, 7/23/1887-7/25/1887: "It's better to have fun than to kill yourself."

Context:
JLB 571, 7/17/1887-7/19/1887: "I've done two paintings since you left. Now I have two louis left, and I fear I won't know how to get through the days from now till you get back. ... Now I hope you'll enjoy your visit over there, give my mother, Cor and Wil my warm regards. And if you can see that I'm not in too much trouble from now till you get back by sending me something more."

Context:
JLB 572, 7/23/1887-7/25/1887: "I saw Tanguy yesterday and he put a canvas I had just done in his window."