VINCENT’S STRUGGLE FOR COMMERCIAL

SUCCESS

JOHN A. WALKER (Copyright, 2009).

‘I, for my part, know well enough that the future will always remain very difficult

for me, and I am almost sure that in the future I shall never be what people call

prosperous.’ (Vincent van Gogh, letter to Theo van Gogh from Nuenen, late

September 1884). (1)

Sales

Popular legend has it that during his lifetime of 37 years the Dutch artist Vincent

van Gogh (1853-90) sold none of his paintings or that he sold only one, namely, ‘The

Red Vineyard’ (1888), which was bought for 400 francs by Anna Boch a fellow

painter and member of the Belgium group Les XX (Les Vingt or The Twenty) where

the painting along with five others was exhibited at the Musée d’Art Moderne,

Brussels in January-February 1890.

1) Vincent van Gogh, ‘The Red Vineyard’, (1888), Oil on canvas, 75 x 93 cm.

Moscow: Pushkin State Museum of Fine Arts.

However, Vincent did sell more than one work of art; for example, in February

1882 he reported to Theo that he had sold a small drawing to Hermanus Gijsbertus

Tersteeg (1845-1927), his former manager at Goupil & Co art gallery in The Hague,
for ten guilders. Later, in May and June, he informed his brother that he had sold

twelve small pen and ink drawings of views of The Hague to his uncle Cornelius van

Gogh for twenty guilders. And while in Arles he wrote a letter to Theo about his

financial dealings with the Parisian colour merchant Julien Tanguy (1825-94) during

1886 or 87 in which he mentions the sale of two portraits for one of which he

received twenty francs:

‘I have again been thinking that when you remember that I painted ‘The Portrait of

Père Tanguy’, and that he also had the portrait of mother Tanguy (which they sold),

and of their friend [a female friend of Madame Tanguy] (it is true that for this latter

portrait I was paid 20 francs by him) …’ (Letter to Theo, circa 9 July 1888).

Later, in a letter dated 8 October 1888, Vincent remarked on Theo’s good news

about Athanase Bague, a Parisian art dealer with a taste for rich colour and

impasto. From Vincent’s comment - ‘tell Bague that I am very pleased he has

bought that study, and that I shall be doing studies as long as the autumn is

propitious’ - it sounds as though Theo had managed to sell one of Vincent’s Arles

studies to Bague.

Émile Bernard has also claimed that while in Paris Vincent accumulated canvases

rapidly (because he was painting three per day) and that he then sold them to ‘the

nearest junk seller for prices that didn’t even pay for the cost of the materials he’d

used’. In addition, according to Paul Gauguin, van Gogh sold a still life of shrimps
to a dealer for the paltry sum of five francs and then gave the money away to a

female beggar in the streets of Paris whose need was greater than his own. (2)

2) Ernest Ladrey, ‘Theo van Gogh’, (1888?), photographic portrait. Amsterdam:

Van Gogh Museum.

Furthermore, it could be argued that Vincent sold the vast majority of his output

because he sent it to an art dealer in Paris in exchange for a monthly stipend and the

supply of canvas and pigments. The art dealer in question, of course, was his

younger brother Theo (1857-91) who was employed as a manager by Boussod

Valadon & Cie, which had branch premises at 19 Boulevard Montmartre. (3) Theo,

therefore, was not his own boss and was somewhat restricted in the advanced art

that he could show and sell. It is significant that he never felt able to mount a solo

show of his brother’s work at Boussods. Often, he desired to become independent

and Vincent frequently urged him to do so but Theo always lacked the requisite

capital to set up on his own. A failed attempt to establish his own business or to gain

an increase in salary occurred just before Vincent’s suicide and this was probably a

precipitating factor. Theo now had a wife and child to support and Vincent realised

that he was becoming an intolerable burden to his brother.

According to the art expert Martin Bailey, a photograph exists of a letter from Theo

on Boussod & Valadon headed notepaper dated 3 October 1888 to the London

dealer Arthur Sulley of W. D. Lawrie & Co. 15 Old Bond Street confirming the

dispatch of a Corot landscape and a van Gogh self-portrait to London following

their sale to Sulley. Which self-portrait and what happened to it is not known. (4)
3) ‘Letter from Theo van Gogh to London dealers Sulley & Lawrie’. (3 October

1888).

Clearly, there is evidence that Vincent sold several works of art during his lifetime

but of course this does not negate the fact that, if one ignores the money Theo paid

him, Vincent’s income from sales was insufficient to support him.

Early career ambitions

Before he became a full time artist, Vincent had worked in the art trade himself in

print and picture galleries in The Hague, London and Paris (1869-76), consequently

he was well informed about the art market. Furthermore, three of his uncles -

Cornelius Marinus van Gogh (known as C.M.), Hendrik Vincent van Gogh (known

as Uncle Hein) and Vincent van Gogh (known as Uncle Cent) - were or had been

successful art dealers. Thus both Vincent and Theo were aware that the art trade

could be a prosperous business. Although Vincent was often critical of this trade, he

did not entirely disdain commercial success because he wished to make a living as an

artist, because he wanted his art to reach an audience and because he longed to

repay his brother’s generous and sustained investment, which had begun in 1882

with a monthly allowance of 100 francs (later increased to 150 francs). (Eventually,

Theo earned around 7000 francs per annum and therefore by giving Vincent 1800

francs or more he sacrificed about a quarter of his income. ) Vincent’s first

priorities as a budding artist were to improve his skills and accumulate a body of

work. However, even as early as August 1885 he tried to sell work via a display in

the shop windows of a art supplier Willem Leurs (1828-95) who had premises at 3-5

Molenstraat, The Hague. Vincent sent Leurs a total of nineteen finished paintings

and studies including images of cottages, an old church tower and figures. Nothing

appears to have been sold and exactly what happened to the paintings after the show

remains unclear.

It is well known that Vincent admired and collected printed images reproduced in
illustrated magazines particularly those he first saw in England. Early in his career

as an artist he too toyed with the idea of moving to London and making a living as

an illustrator. However, this idea was never followed up and it is unlikely that

Vincent would have been temperamentally suited to working to commission and to

deadlines for the editor of a magazine. At the Hague in 1882, Vincent had a series of

drawings turned into lithographs, which he hoped would be purchased by workmen

and displayed in farms. By employing a reproductive medium he intended to make

an art depicting the people for the people. He also envisaged a combination of artists

distributing prints in popular editions, artists who would work for reasons of public

duty and service rather than for personal financial gain. At this time Vincent

considered himself equivalent to a labourer or shoemaker rather than a member of

a bourgeois profession. In truth these socialistic and idealistic ideas did not reach

fruition and by the time Vincent was painting in Provence in 1888 and 1889 the

emphasis in his art was more on decorative, colourful landscapes and still lifes (even

though he was still keen to portray peasants, mothers, postmen and soldiers). The

following remarks to Theo indicate a more pragmatic attitude, that is, a change in

his conception of his potential audience and market:

‘Nothing would help us to sell our canvases more than if they could gain general

acceptance as decorations for middle-class houses. The way it used to be in Holland.’

(Letter to Theo from Arles, circa 19 July 1888).

Vincent had finally accepted that his favourite subjects - peasants, miners and
weavers - were not going to provide a market for his work because they could not

afford fine artworks.

Vincent’s letters to Theo are sprinkled with ideas and schemes for selling and

developing what he regarded as their joint venture. (Eventually, Vincent considered

Theo as a co-producer of his work.) For example, in May and July 1888 Vincent

executed a series of six elaborate pen-and-ink landscape drawings from the rocky

hill of the Abbey of Montmajour just north of Arles.

4) Vincent van Gogh, ‘La Campagne du côté des bords du Rhône vue de Mont

Majour,’ (1888), reed pen and ink drawing, 48.7 x 60.7 cm. London: British

Museum.
These were signed and planned as works of art in their own right, which Vincent

suggested to Theo might be of interest to Georges Thomas, a Parisian art dealer

with a gallery at 43 Boulevard Malesherbes. Vincent wrote: ‘If Thomas should

happen to want them, he cannot have them for less than 100 francs each.’ (Letter to

Theo, circa 13 July 1888). In the event Thomas did not buy them.

The van Gogh Collection

By sending his newly completed canvases and drawings to Theo, Vincent’s intention

was to build up a substantial inventory of his work for future exhibitions and sales.

However, their private collection or ‘our stock’ - which also included Japanese

prints - needed variety, that is, the work of other artists they admired. This was

achieved in three ways: first, gifts made to Theo by artists he had assisted or

befriended; second, works purchased by Theo that he liked and could afford by

such figures as Gauguin, Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec and Georges Seurat; and third,

exchanges Vincent made with contemporaries such as Gauguin, Armand

Guillaumin, Frank Myers Boggs, Leo Gausson, Bernard, Charles Laval, John

Russell and so forth. It was this collection that was inherited by Theo’s widow Jo in

1891 and which eventually became the basis for the core holdings of the Vincent van

Gogh Museum in Amsterdam. (5)

Bartering

Bartering canvases for goods and services rendered was another means by which

Vincent survived. For instance, in 1887, at the Café du Tambourin, 62 Boulevard de

Clichy run by Agostina Segatori (1841-1910, an ex-artists’ model of Italian origin), a

woman with whom Vincent had an affair, he paid for meals with a portrait and

flower studies, which were also put on show.

5) Vincent van Gogh, ‘Agostina Segatori in the Café du Tambourin,’ (1887)

Oil on Canvas, 55.5 x 46.5 cm. Amsterdam: Van Gogh Museum.
He also mounted an exhibition of Japanese prints at the café. Later, Vincent was to

describe the display of paintings he organised at the café as ‘a disaster’ because of

some altercation with a waiter and a falling out with Segatori. In 1908, Bernard

recalled: ‘then the place went to ruin, was sold, and all the paintings, in a pile, were

sold off for a laughable sum.’ (6)

It seems certain that Vincent also paid Père Tanguy for art supplies in terms of

paintings including portraits of him. He also made portraits of the doctors Félix Rey

in Arles and Paul Gachet in Auvers-sur-Oise who treated him and gave them to his

sitters. Unfortunately, recipients of his gifts often failed to appreciate Vincent’s art.

One canvas, for instance, was later discovered being used to patch a hole in a roof.

Networking in Paris
During the period he spent sharing apartments with Theo in Paris (1886-88),

Vincent spent much of his time learning about Impressionism, Neo-Impressionism,

Symbolism and the complexities of the Parisian art scene, and becoming acquainted

with fellow artists such as Bernard, Gauguin, Louis Anquetin, A. S. Hartrick, Paul

Signac, John Peter Russell, Seurat and Toulouse-Lautrec, colour merchants such as

Tanguy and the firm of Tasset et L’Hote at 31 Rue Fontaine, and art dealers such as

Georges Thomas, Athanase Bague, Alphonse Portier, Pierre-Firmin Martin,

Alexander Reid and Arnold & Tripp of 8 Rue Saint-Georges. (In modern parlance:

he was networking.) Portier (1841-1902) lived in the same building in Rue Lepic as

Theo and was a dealer in Impressionist paintings. At one point he took four of

Vincent’s canvases on consignment. Martin (1817-91), also a dealer in Impressionist

works, lived at 29 Rue Saint-Georges and was a friend of Theo. In 1887, Vincent

painted a portrait of Martin’s niece - Leonie Rose Davy-Charbuy. This may have

been an attempt by Vincent to please the dealer and to establish himself as a portrait

painter available for commissions. The red headed Scottish dealer Reid (1854-1928),

who closely resembled Vincent, was also one of his sitters. Vincent gave Reid two

canvases: a full length portrait and a still life of apples.

6) Vincent van Gogh, ‘Portrait of Alexander Reid,’ (1886-7). Oil on board, 46 x 32

cm, Norman, University of Oklahoma: Fred Jones Jr Museum o Art.

Vincent called the group of artists with whom he particularly identified ‘the

Painters of the Petit Boulevard’ to distinguish them from the more established
Impressionists or School of the Grand Boulevard such as Edgar Degas and Claude

Monet. (7) In their spare time Theo and Vincent engaged in discussions with their

contemporaries as to the best ways in which artists could organise - to found mutual

aid associations, to pool their resources - in order to further their economic interests.

They even proposed resale right payments for artists. After he moved to Arles, the

idea of an association of artists was still preoccupying Vincent as the following

remarks to Theo indicate:

‘Perhaps it would be easier to get a few dealers and collectors to agree to buy the

Impressionist paintings than to get the artists to agree to share the price of their

paintings. Nevertheless, the artists couldn't do better than to get together, and give

over to the association, and share the proceeds of the sales, so that the society could

at least guarantee its members a chance to live and to work. If de Gas [Degas],

Claude Monet, Renoir, Sisley and C. Pissarro took the initiative, saying, “Look here,

we 5 give 10 paintings each (or rather we each give to the value of 10,000 Frs. to be

estimated by expert members such as Tersteeg and yourself, co-opted by the Society,

said experts likewise to put in capital in the form of paintings) and we further

undertake to hand over every year pictures to the value of… “And we invite you

others, Guillaumin, Seurat, Gauguin, etc., etc., to join with us (your paintings to

undergo the same expert evaluation).” Thus the great impressionists of the Grand

Boulevard, while giving pictures which would become general property, would keep

their prestige, and the others could no longer reproach them with keeping to

themselves the advantages of a reputation no doubt acquired primarily through

their personal efforts and individual genius, but all the same a reputation that is

growing, buttressed and actually maintained by the paintings of a whole battalion of

artists who have been working in perpetual poverty. Anyway, it is to be hoped that it

will come off, and that Tersteeg and you will become expert members (with Portier,

perhaps?).’

(Letter to Theo, 10 March 1888).

Competition and individualism were powerful ideologies during the nineteenth

century that influenced the art world but it also seems clear that the urge to

cooperate was a countervailing force. Self-help, of course, was also a Victorian

philosophy.

Exhibitions

Vincent strongly believed that one of the means by which impoverished artists could

improve their financial situation and social isolation was through cooperative

actions such as making exchanges and organising group exhibitions. One of the

ways in which radical artists in Paris avoided rejection by the juries of the

government sponsored Salon and by private art galleries was to mount exhibitions

themselves in such places as hired rooms, restaurants and cafes. Vincent took the

initiative in organising one such show at the Grand Bouillon-Restaurant du Chalet,

43 Avenue de Clichy, Montmartre in November 1887. Lucien Martin is believed to

have been the owner of this popular or working class restaurant and there is a

portrait of him by van Gogh dated 1887. A large number of works were displayed
and participants included Vincent, Louis Anquetin, Toulouse-Lautrec, Arnold

Koning and Bernard. Although this show seems to have received little public

attention, both Anquetin and Bernard sold works from it. In December 1887

Vincent’s canvases were also shown in the foyer of the Théâtre Libre de Antoine, 96

Rue Blanche, along with others by Seurat and Signac. During 1888 Theo submitted

three of Vincent’s paintings to the annual exhibition of the Société des Artistes

Indépendants, which had been founded in 1884.

7) Vincent van Gogh, ‘Irises,’ (1889), Oil on canvas, 70.1 x 90.3 cm.

Los Angeles: J. Paul Getty Trust/Museum.

In September 1889, Vincent’s ‘Irises’ (1889) and ‘Starry night over the Rhone’

(1888) were included in the Indépendants annual show and Theo informed his

brother that, although the exhibition in general had been poor, the ‘Irises’ had been

seen and admired by many visitors. During March 1890, Theo selected ten of

Vincent canvases for display at the annual Indépendants exhibition held at the

Pavillon de la Ville de Paris, Champs-Elysées. Gauguin was much impressed by

Vincent’s contribution and so was Claude Monet.

Artists, critics and dealers visiting Theo’s flat at 54 Rue Lepic, Montmartre

naturally saw Vincent’s latest canvases on display. Another place in which Vincent’s

paintings were visible was Tanguy’s artists’ materials shop at 27 Rue Clauzel,

Montmartre. Sometimes Tanguy displayed a van Gogh in the shop’s window and for

a while Theo rented a room there to store his brother’s art.

8) Vincent van Gogh, ‘Portrait of Père Tanguy.’ (1886-7). Oil on canvas, 47.0 x 38.5

cm, Copenhagen: Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek.

At Tanguy’s his pictures would have been seen by many visiting artists alongside

works by Paul Cézanne, Gauguin and Seurat. (Tanguy managed to sell several van

Goghs from his stock for small sums after the latter’s death in 1890.) Examples of
Vincent’s art could also be seen in the galleries of the dealers Thomas and Martin.

So, towards the end of his life, Vincent was exhibiting in the capitals of France and

Belgium in the company of other modern artists whose names were soon to become

world famous.

Mutual aid

Vincent’s interest in mutual aid also explains his plan to establish in Arles a Studio

in the South where two or more artists could live together, share expenses and

perhaps common aesthetic principles. For a short while - October to December

1888 - this was achieved with Gauguin whose travelling and living expenses were

borne by Theo in exchange for canvases. (8) The two painters did not think of

exhibiting in Arles but they did consider the city of Marseilles as a possible venue.

During November 1888, Theo managed to sell three of Gauguin’s works exhibited in

Paris and Vincent may have felt encouraged by this development. Alternatively, he

may have felt envy and wondered: ‘If Theo can sell Gauguin’s work, why cannot he

sell mine?’ The hurtful accusation posed by strangers to Vincent or in self reproach

- ‘Your pictures never sell’ - he sometimes explained by blaming Theo for not

making enough efforts on his behalf. (9) For a long time Theo did not try to sell

Vincent’s work because it was raw and gloomy in character and still in the early

stages of development, and because he was only too aware of the conservative tastes

of his employers and most of the public. However, once in receipt of the canvases

from Arles, he became convinced of the originality, energy and high aesthetic

qualities of Vincent’s work and did what he could to promote it. As he once
reminded Vincent, he was not alone in not selling - there were other radical artists

such as Camille Pissarro, Gauguin and so on who also had difficulties in finding

buyers.

Criticism and publicity

For living artists such as Jeff Koons and Damien Hirst, critical acclaim and

publicity are regarded as essential career mechanisms and an inevitable

consequence of today’s press and celebrity culture. Vincent himself began to

experience such appraisal and publicity as a consequence of his inclusion in the

Salon des Indépendants shows. His reactions were to be mixed. Gustave Kahn made

a rather dismissive mention of a van Gogh painting of Parisian novels in an article

published in La Revue Indépendante in April 1888, while Félix Fénéon and Luc le

Flaneur (G. Albert Aurier [1865-92]) made positive comments in 1889 in La Vogue

and Le Moderniste respectively.

9) Vincent van Gogh, ‘Roman Parisiens,’ (1887). Oil on canvas, 73 x 93 cm. Private

collection.

Vincent’s work was also noticed in Holland: the Jewish-Dutch painter and writer

Joseph Jacob Isaäcson who spent time in Paris and knew Theo well, wrote about

Vincent in the Amsterdam weekly De Portfeuille on 17 August 1889. Isaäcson began

his ‘Letters from Paris’ with a question:

‘Who is it who interprets for us, through form and colour, that greatness of life, that

power of life, of which the 19th century is increasingly aware?’

And he answered:

‘I know of one, a solitary pioneer, he struggles alone in the deep night, and his name,

Vincent, is destined to go down in the succeeding generations. There will be more to

say in time about this remarkable hero - a Dutchman.’

In March 1890, the anarchist writer Georges Lecomte (1867-1958) praised Vincent’s

paintings in the pages of the journal Art et Critique, and in May Julien Leclercq

(1865-1901), a French symbolist poet and avant-garde art critic, discussed Vincent’s

ten contributions to the Indépendants exhibition of that year in the magazine

Mercure de France. Leclercq characterised Vincent as ‘a rare genius’ and was soon

to become one of his champions.

Earlier that year, a long positive profile - ‘The Isolated Ones: Vincent van Gogh’ -

written in overwrought symbolist prose by the French critic G. Albert Aurier was

published in Mercure de France 1, 1, in January 1890, pp. 24-29. (Bernard and Theo

were instrumental in supplying Aurier with information about Vincent who was

then in Provence.)
10) Auguste M. Lauzet, ‘Portrait of G-Albert Aurier,’ (1893). Etching. Frontispiece

of G-Albert Aurier, Oeuvres Posthumes, (Paris: Editions Mercure de France, 1893).

Excerpts from it were also published in the Brussels’ journal L’Art Moderne on 19

January 1890. Initially, Vincent was surprised and pleased by Aurier’s article but

nevertheless he soon expressed reservations. He wrote to Theo:

‘I was extremely surprised by the article on my paintings you sent me. No need to

tell you that I hope to keep thinking that I don't paint like that, but I do gather from
it how I ought to be painting. For the article is absolutely right in the way it shows

the gap to be filled, and I think that the writer really wrote it to guide, not only me,

but all the other impressionists, and even to help them make the breach in the right

place. So he proposes an ideal collective ego to the others quite as much as to me. He

simply tells me that here and there he can see something good, if you like, even in

my work which is so imperfect, and that is the comforting part, which I appreciate

and for which I hope I am grateful. Only it ought to be understood that my back is

not broad enough to be saddled with that task, and I need not tell you that, in

concentrating the article on me, he has made me feel steeped in flattery. In my

opinion it is all as exaggerated as a certain article by Isaäcson about you which

claimed that present-day artists had given up quarrelling, and that an important

movement was silently taking shape in the little shop on the Boulevard Montmartre.

I admit that it is difficult to say what one means, to express oneself properly - just as

one cannot paint things as one sees them - and so this isn't really a criticism of

Isaäcson's rashness, or that of the other critic, but as far as we are concerned, well,

we are merely serving as model, and that is surely a duty and a task like any other.

So, should you or I acquire some sort of reputation, then we must simply try to take

it as calmly as possible, and to keep our heads. Why not say what he said of my

sunflowers, and with far greater justification, of those magnificent and quite perfect

hollyhocks of Quost's and his yellow irises, and those splendid peonies of Jeannin's?

You know as well as I do that there is always another side of the coin to such praise.

But I am glad, and very grateful for the article, or rather “La coeur à l'aise” [Glad

at heart], as the revue song has it, since one may need it, as one may indeed have
need of a coin. Moreover, an article like that has its own merit as a critical work of

art. As such I think it is to be respected and the writer must raise the tone, harness

his conclusions, &c.’ (Letter to Theo, 2 February 1890).

Trepidation and modesty were also evident in his letter of thanks to Aurier (he also

gave the critic a canvas depicting cypresses):

‘You may realize now that your article would have been fairer and - it seems to me -

consequently more powerful, if, when dealing with the question of the nature of

`tropical painting' and the question of colour, you had - before speaking of me - done

justice to Gauguin and [Adolphe] Monticelli. For the role attaching to me, or that will

be attached to me, will remain, I assure you, of very secondary importance.’ (Letter to

Aurier, 10 or 11 February 1890).

Clearly, what disturbed Vincent about Aurier’s article was the fact that while he -

Vincent - was stressing a community ethos, Aurier was being divisive by stressing

Vincent’s individual achievement. Later, following a severe mental breakdown,

Vincent instructed Theo as follows:

‘Please ask M. Aurier not to write any more articles on my painting, insist upon this,

that to begin with he is mistaken about me, since I am too overwhelmed with grief to

be able to face publicity. Making pictures distracts me, but if I hear them spoken of,

it pains me more than he knows.’ (Letter to Theo, 30 April 1890).

Vincent did not relish being singled out or enjoy the spotlight of fame. Perhaps what

he feared above all was the embarrassment associated with public exposure of his

episodes of mental breakdown and especially the notorious incident of the threat of

violence made against Gauguin in Arles followed by the self-mutilation of his ear

and his delivery of the ear lobe to a prostitute in a brothel. Vincent was well aware

of the negative effects of press publicity because reports of his actions in the Arles’

newspaper Forum Républicain (30 December 1888) had resulted in a petition against

him by concerned locals that eventually forced him to leave town.

In an earlier letter to his mother, Vincent expressed a desire not to be written about

but then went on to indicate some satisfaction at the Aurier article and the sale of

‘The Red Vineyard’:

‘I was rather surprised at the article they wrote about me. Isaäcson wanted to do

one some time ago, and I asked him not to; I was sorry when I read it, because it is

so exaggerated; the problem is different - what sustains me in my work is the very

feeling that there are several others doing the same thing I am, so why an article on

me and not on those six or seven others, etc.? But I must admit that afterward, when

my surprise had passed off a little, I felt at times very much cheered by it; moreover,

yesterday Theo wrote me that they had sold one of my pictures at Brussels for 400

francs. Compared with other prices, also those in Holland, this is little, but therefore

I try to be productive to be able to go on working at a reasonable cost. And if we

have to try to earn our bread with our hands, I have to make up for pretty

considerable expenses.’ (Letter from Vincent to his mother, circa 20 February 1890).

The complaint about exaggeration is paradoxical because Vincent himself claimed

the right to exaggerate and to use arbitrary colours in his paintings. It seems he was

unwilling to permit his literary commentators a comparable artistic license.

A few months later Vincent wrote direct to Isaäcson, whose articles on

Impressionism he had been reading, and made a statement of extreme self-

effacement:

‘As it is possible that in your next article you will put a few words about me, I will

repeat my scruples, so that you will not go beyond a few words, because it is

absolutely certain that I shall never do important things.’ (Letter from Vincent to

Isaäcson, 25 May 1890).

Attitudes to success

Vincent’s attitude to commercial success also seems to have been ambivalent. (W.W.

Meissner, a psychoanalyst, has argued persuasively that Vincent’s ambivalence

derived from the powerful emotion of shame due to the many humiliations he had

experienced in life.) (10) On the one hand, while in Paris during 1886-88, he had

made efforts to achieve it, while on the other hand in a pessimistic letter written to

Theo in August 1888, he expressed horror at the prospect of success and added:

‘I neither care about success for myself nor about happiness; I do care about the

permanence of this vigorous attempt by the Impressionists, I do care about this

question of shelter and daily bread for them.’ (Letter to Theo, circa 14 August 1888).

Vincent then compared his attitude to success in the Parisian art world to

Gauguin’s. In Vincent’s view, success was more important to Gauguin than to him.

No doubt this was because Gauguin lacked the financial support of a brother and

had a wife and children in Denmark in need of money. One wonders if Theo thought

Vincent’s attitude rather complacent. Since Vincent had spent so many years

without selling anything, it would appear that he had come to equate selling with

selling out, with a loss of artistic integrity. At times, he seems to have taken

masochistic pleasure in the difficulties of his daily existence.

In a letter to his mother and sister, Vincent remarked:

‘As soon as I heard that my work was having some success, and read the article in

question, I feared at once that I should be punished for it; this is how things nearly

always go in a painter's life: success is about the worst thing that can happen.’

(Letter to his mother and sister, 30 April 1890)

Usually, when Vincent referred to success or immortality in his letters it was as a

distant prospect, as something that had to be deferred until his work improved, as

something that might happen in the future when he was no longer present and often

he thought of himself as merely a link in a chain of artists who would one day enjoy

better times. Despite Vincent’s failure during his lifetime to achieve commercial

success, it is surely evident that he did pursue it, particularly during his time in

Paris, and that towards the end of his life there were signs that his art was beginning

to be appreciated by his peer group (artists) and by a number of critics. (This is the

normal pattern in the careers of emerging artists; dealers and collectors then

follow.) It could be argued that by committing suicide in July 1890, he gave up the

struggle prematurely. If one assumes that he could have lived to the age of 70, this

would have brought him up to 1923 by which time his art could well have been

widely accepted and selling for considerable sums. (In 1923 the British collector

Samuel Courtauld paid £3,300 for Vincent’s 1889 landscape ‘A Wheatfield with

Cypresses’. )

In spite of painfully slow progress, Theo seems to have been sure of ultimate victory.
In January 1890 he informed Vincent that his paintings on display in Brussels were

being praised in newspaper reviews and expressed his confidence in the future:

‘I think we can wait patiently for success to come; you will surely live to see it. It is

necessary to get well known without obtruding oneself, and it will come of its own

accord by reason of your beautiful pictures.’ (Letter from Theo to Vincent, 22

January 1890)

Posthumous fame

As we now know, during the twentieth century, commercial success, critical

recognition, popular acclaim and international fame beyond Theo’s and Vincent’s

wildest dreams came to pass and Theo’s extraordinary faith in the value of his

brother’s art, life and character was finally vindicated. (11) In perhaps the most

perceptive analysis of the subsequent glorification of Vincent, Nathalie Heinich has

argued, in a chapter entitled ‘Money as a Medium of Atonement’, that society’s

failure to reward Vincent during his lifetime contrasted against the millions paid for

his works in salerooms after his death resulted in a collective guilt complex that has

fuelled frenetic admiration, a compensatory public worship:

‘The discrepancy between today’s prices and those of a century ago generates a

sense of injustice,’ which ‘in turn links martyrdom and price inflation. Martyrlike

suffering, once transformed into a sacrifice, engenders a feeling of collective guilt

with respect to that misunderstood singular figure, the artiste maudit.’ (12)
Vincent himself was well aware of the unfairness of the art market, the fact that

huge sums paid for the work of dead artists was of no benefit to them when they

were alive and restricted the amount of money living artists could receive. In 1889

he wrote:

‘And those high prices one hears about, paid for work of painters who are dead and

who were never paid so much while they were alive, it is a kind of tulip trade, under

which the living painters suffer rather than gain any benefit. And it will also

disappear like the tulip trade. But one may reason that, though the tulip trade has

long been gone and is forgotten, the flower growers have remained and will remain.

And thus I consider painting too, thinking that what abides is like a kind of flower

growing. And as far as it concerns me, I reckon myself happy to be in it. But for the

rest!’ (Letter to his mother, circa 20-22 October 1889).

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(1) Vincent van Gogh’s complete letters can be found on http://www.webexhibits.org

And at http://www.vggallery.com/letters. Plus Vincent van Gogh, The Complete

Letters of Vincent van Gogh with reproductions of the drawings in the correspondence,

(London: Thames & Hudson, 2000). A new, revised, annotated edition of the letters

is planned for publication in October 2009.

(2) Émile Bernard, ‘Julien Tanguy, called Le Père Tanguy,’ Mercure de France,
November-December 1908. Paul Gauguin, ‘Avant et Après: “The Pink Shrimps”,’

Mercure de France, October 1903.

(3) A detailed biography of Theo van Gogh and an account of his career as a dealer

can be found in Theo van Gogh 1857-1891: Art Dealer, Collector and Brother of

Vincent, by Chris Stolwijk and Richard Thomson, (Amsterdam: Van Gogh Museum,

1999). See also: Jan Hulsker, Vincent and Theo van Gogh: a Dual Biography, (Ann

Arbor, Mich: Fuller Publications, c 1990); Marie-Angélique Ozanne & Frédérique

de Jode, Theo: the Other Van Gogh, (New York: Vendome, 2004). A useful summary

of the changing dynamics of the economic relationship between Vincent and Theo

can be found in Talking Prices: Symbolic Meanings of Prices on the Market for

Contemporary Art by Olav Velthuis, (Princeton & Oxford: Princeton University

Press, 2005), pp. 53-55.

(4) Martin Bailey, ‘Van Gogh’s first sale: a self-portrait in London,’ Apollo

Magazine, No. 409, March 1996, pp. 20-21.

(5) Richard Kendall & others, Van Gogh’s van Goghs: Masterpieces from the Van

Gogh Museum, Amsterdam, (Washington, DC: National Gallery of Washington,

1998).

(6) Bernard, ‘Julien Tanguy, called Le Père Tanguy,’ Mercure de France, November-

December 1908.
(7) Vincent van Gogh and the Painters of the Petit Boulevard, Cornelia Homburg &

others, (New York: Rizzoli, 2001). Published on the occasion of the exhibition

Vincent van Gogh and the Painters of the Petit Boulevard, Saint Louis Art Museum,

February 17-May 13, 2001, Städelsches Kunstinstitut und Städtisches Galerie,

Frankfurt, June 8-September 2, 2001. Also on the Paris period see: B. Welsh-

Ovcharov, Vincent van Gogh, his Paris Period, 1886-1888, (Utrecht & The Hague:

Editions Victorine, 1976); B. Welsh-Ovcharov, Van Gogh à Paris, (Paris: Musée

d’Orsay, 1988).

(8) Douglas Druick & others, Van Gogh and Gauguin: the Studio of the South, (New

York & London: Thames & Hudson, 2001). Published in conjunction with the

exhibition of the same name held at the Art Institute of Chicago, September 22,

2001-January 13, 2002 and the Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam, February 9-June 2,

2002.

(9) For example in a letter to Theo from Nuenen circa 1 March 1884 Vincent

complained: “I'm sure you're right to say that my work must improve a great deal,

but at the same time I also think that your efforts to do something with it could

become a bit more determined. You have never yet sold a single thing I have done -

whether for a lot or a little - in fact, you haven't even tried.”

(10) W.W. Meissner, ‘The shame dynamic of Vincent van Gogh,’ The Annual of

Psychoanalysis, Vol. 24, 1996, ed. Jerome A. Winer, (London: Routledge, 1997), pp.
205-228.

(11) On the posthumous acclaim of van Gogh see: John A. Walker, ‘The van Gogh

Industry’, Art and Artists, Vol 11, No. 5, August 1976, pp. 4-7; Carol M. Zemel, The

Formation of a Legend: van Gogh Criticism, 1890-1920, (Ann Arbor, Mich: UMI

Research Press, 1980); Tsukasa Ködera (ed.) The Mythology of Van Gogh, (Tokyo &

Amsterdam: TV Asahi and John Benjamins, 1993); Nathalie Heinich, The Glory of

Van Gogh: An Anthropology of Admiration, (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University

Press, 1996). A very useful compilation of memoirs, documents and reviews relating

to van Gogh has been edited by Susan Alyson Stein, Van Gogh: A Retrospective, (New

York: Beaux Arts Editions/ Hugh Lauter Levin Associates, 1986). See also: Gary J.

Bamossy, ‘Star gazing: the mythology and commodification of Vincent van Gogh,’

Inside Consumption: Consumer Motives, Goals, and Desires; eds S. Ratneshwar &

David Glen Mick, (London: Routledge, 2005), pp. 309-329.

(12) Heinich, The Glory of Van Gogh, pp. 108-109.

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