It might strike art viewers as odd to find that Vincent Van Gogh spent a great deal of his artistic career copying the works of other artists. He saw his time in Saint-Paul Asylum, in Saint-Rémy France as an opportunity to hone his skills. Trapped in one place, Van Gogh painted some of his master works, but he also copied the works of others, anything he had available, such as a photograph or a print from which to work. Van Gogh did not just replicate what he saw, he copied and translated these great works.
There is a long-standing assumption that copy-work is for amateurs. Children learn to write by copying letters. A student studies under an expert in a discipline. Beginning artists mimic the works of artists they consider to be more experienced and replicate their works. Van Gogh was learning with every copied brush stroke. The very act of reproducing what had been made before was a lesson and from that lesson he engaged in conversations with the various works which he admired. These translations of color, light, subject, composition were all ways in which van Gogh challenged himself to become a better artist.
The viewer of this show should become the viewer of van Gogh’s journey of learning through his copies and translations of masters who came before him.
Eugene Delacroix, Pietà, 1850
Oil on canvas
Height: 35 cm (13.7 in); Width: 27 cm (10.6 in)
National Gallery, Oslo, Norway
Dark colors wash through the moment of the death of Christ Jesus. The moment is somber as light and dark tug across the canvas, over the body of Jesus. Mary stands above Jesus in an awkward, falling position, her arms extended helplessly. Mary seems to want to protect her son and Savior. Even her extended hands are held, palms out, as if she had been the one nailed to the cross. Now, with arms dropping at his sides, Jesus is limply fallen over to the side. Drab colors mix all around in the color of darkness, the sky a haze of night. The only application of a color appears in Mary’s robe and cape.
Vincent Van Gogh, Pietà (after Eugène Delacroix), 1889
Saint-rémy-de-provence, France
Oil on canvas
Height: 73 cm (28.7 in); Width: 60 cm (23.6 in)
Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam, Netherlands
The choice of blue and yellow in Vincent van Gogh’s copy of Eugene Delacroix’s The Pietà, evokes a passion felt by the mother of Jesus. In his act of translating the work of Delacroix, van Gogh flips the composition. Mother and son continue in much the same directional positioning, their heads pointing up and to the left. The hands of Jesus lay limp and Mary’s continue to reach out, surrounding her son. Keeping the same, strong light that Delacroix cast upon the legs of Jesus, van Gogh displays the Impressionistic colors as yellow sunshine and blues shadows, the same hues reflecting the sky above. Each stroke of the paintbrush is visible as van Gogh etches out the rock and every fold of material. Each slice of paint allows viewers to know that they are looking at something material, something touchable.
Millet, First Steps, 1858
Black crayon on paper
Height: 32 cm (12.5 in); Width: 43 cm (16.9 in)
Lauren Rogers Museum of Art, Laurel, Mississippi
Jean-François Millet worked to depict the narratives of everyday people, the working people who farmed the land. This black crayon on paper drawing is soft, removing us from this moment in time and freezing the scene forever. The difficulty of picking out exact forms calls attention to the people of the foreground. Simple folk who stop work for a momentous occasion of a child’s first steps. The shovel is laid aside because the father cares so much about his child walking. The desire of the child to reach out toward the father is warm and inviting.
Vincent Van Gogh, First Steps, after Millet, 1890
Saint-rémy-de-provence, France
Oil on canvas
Height: 72.4 cm (28.5 in); Width: 91.1 cm (35.8 in)
Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City – Gallery 825
Vincent Van Gogh shows the warmth and vitality that is felt in this work of Jean-François Millet by brightening colors and shaping textures. Van Gogh kept the same composition to that of Millet’s crayon on paper. The attention of the viewer still centers on the three figures and a crucial moment in someone’s life, his first steps. A mother is supporting the child who is reaching out toward his father. Each stroke of paint brings forth the textures of a garden. He interprets the colors as deep blues and vibrant greens. Touches of golden sunlight lay beyond the fence. The greens and golds bring the moment to life.
Rembrandt, The Raising of Lazarus, 1630
Oil on panel
Height: 96.4 cm (37.9 in); Width: 81.3 cm (32 in)
Los Angeles County Museum of Art (LACMA), Los Angeles, CA, US
This historical, religious painting shows the moment when Lazarus rises, alive, out of the tomb. Rembrandt, the master of light draws gazes from Jesus to Lazarus, and then to the amazed woman reaching out, the joy evident on her face. The light flows from behind Jesus and still illuminates the faces of the shocked onlookers. Jesus, the Healer stands over and above the scene, his right arm raised high in command. Christ is robed in purple as King, but this is a dark, earthy purple of a King who walks among his people. Lazarus, a dead man, now lives. His face is gaunt and thin, as though just a skull, but is still alive and looking at Jesus. Dim colors haunt the scene, drawing the viewer’s eye in until the only place to look is at this moment of resurrection.
Vincent van Gogh, The Raising of Lazarus after Rembrandt, 1890
Saint-rémy-de-provence, France
Oil on canvas
Height: 35.5 cm (13.9 in); Width: 49.5 cm (19.4 in)
Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam, Netherlands
Energy pulses through the painting of a dead man coming to life. Bright yellows, rich greens, aggressive reds remind the viewer of van Gogh’s The Night Café. However, where that scene showed ominous darkness through the harsh brightness, here the brilliance of colors fill the canvas with daylight and wonder. The sun beams down on three figures, all amazed at the resurrection of Lazarus. The strong colors are blinding, so full of life. Vincent van Gogh translates the work of Rembrandt, The Raising of Lazarus, boldly altering the composition to no longer include Jesus. Lazarus rises from the ground, the flow of paint continuous with the dirt. The scene is sharply focused on Lazarus and two women, perhaps the sisters. It is a vibrant scene of healing, a moment when a dead man comes back to life.
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