The Last Stand in the Yellow House

Vincent van Gogh did not paint this portrait to show off his technique, he painted it to see if he was still there. The year was 1889 and the dream of a Mediterranean artist colony had just ended in a spray of blood and a hasty departure by Paul Gauguin in a huff. Arles was no longer a sun-drenched paradise. It was a trap of mistral winds and neighbors who looked at him like a rabid dog.

He stands before us in a heavy buttoned coat. The Studio of the South was a drafty wreck and the winter was bitter. Behind him hangs a Japanese woodblock print. It represents the artistic solace he craved while his mind was fraying at the edges. The bandage on his head covers a self-inflicted wound that the history books often turn into a morbid curiosity. To Vincent, it was a medical consequence of a man suffering despair and isolation.

The perspective is flipped because he was staring into a mirror. He was searching his own eyes for a sign of the madness that had landed him in a stone hospital room. This canvas was his own psychological clearance. If he could still capture the smell of turpentine and the texture of his own coat, he was still a painter. Survival was the only masterpiece he had left to create.

References

Bonafoux, P. (1989). Van Gogh: Self Portraits. Tabard Press.

Gayford, M. (2006). The Yellow House: Van Gogh, Gauguin, and Nine Turbulent Weeks in Arles. Penguin Books.

Naifeh, S., & Smith, G. W. (2011). Van Gogh: The Life. Random House.

Pickvance, R. (1984). Van Gogh in Arles. Metropolitan Museum of Art.