Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh (c. 12 November 1888) ... He
is very interesting as a friend, I must tell you that he knows
how to cook perfectly; I think I shall learn from him,
it is very convenient. We find it very easy to make frames with
plain strips of wood nailed on the stretcher and
painted, and I have begun doing this.
Do you know that Gauguin is really partly the inventor of
the white frame? But the frame of four strips nailed on the
stretcher costs 5 sous, and we are certainly going to
perfect it. It does very well, because the frame has no
projection, and is one with the picture.
Good-by for now, a handshake for you, and my compliments to
the Dutchmen.
Ever yours, Vincent
Gauguin sends his greetings, and asks you to keep, out of
the price of the first picture you sell, the amount necessary
for the stretchers with screws that he wants, and also what
Bernard will be asking you for a commission he gave him.
...
Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh (26 March 1889) ... good, and all of which are very curious.
His courteous doctor, the house physician Rey, is of the
opinion that, if he should lead a very methodical life, eating
and drinking normally and at regular hours, there would be
every chance that the terrible crises would not repeat
themselves at all.
He is quite willing to keep him all the time that would be
necessary. He thinks that all the expenses of his stay in the
hospital will have to be defrayed by the municipality, because
it was at the administration's demand that he was kept in the
asylum.
At any rate, if he does not go back to Paris, which in Mr.
Rey's opinion would be preferable, it would be necessary for
him to move to another house, as his neighbours are hostile to
him. This is also what your brother desires, for at the
earliest possible date he wants to leave this asylum, where
after all he must necessarily suffer under the continual
surveillance, which often has to be of a petty nature.
Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh (22 May 1889) ... have another room for doing my work.
The food is all right as far as it goes. It tastes a bit
musty, of course, as in a cockroach-infested restaurant in
Paris, or in a boarding-house. The poor wretches here, having
absolutely nothing to do (not a book, nothing more to distract
them than a game of boules or a game of draughts), have no
other daily distraction than to stuff themselves with
chickpeas, haricot beans, lentils and other groceries and
colonial produce, in set amounts and at stated hours.
As the digestion of these foodstuffs offers certain
difficulties, they fill their days in a way as offensive as it
is costly.
But joking apart, my fear of madness is wearing off
markedly, since I can see at close quarters those who are
affected by it in the same way as I may very easily be in the
future.
Previously, I was repelled by these individuals, and I found
it distressing to have to reflect that so many in our trade,
Troyon, Marchal, Méryon,...
Lettre de Vincent van Gogh à Theo van Gogh (3 June 1890) ... dîner tous les dimanches ou lundis.
Mais jusqu'à présent, si c'est agréable
d'y faire un tableau, c'est
une corvée pour moi d'y dîner et déjeuner, car l'excellent
homme se donne du mal pour faire des dîners où il y a 4 ou 5 plats,
ce qui est abominable pour lui comme pour moi, car il
n'a certes pas l'estomac fort. Ce qui m'a un peu
retenu d'y trouver à redire, c'est que je vois
que lui cela lui rappelle les jours d'autrefois où l'on faisait des
dîners de famille, qu'enfin nous connaissons bien aussi.Mais l'idée moderne
de manger un, tout au plus deux plats est pourtant certes
un progrès et un loin retour à l'antiquité vraie. Enfin le père
Gachet est beaucoup, mais beaucoup comme toi et moi. J'ai lu
avec plaisir dans ta lettre que M. Peyron a demandé de mes
nouvelles en t'écrivant, je vais lui écrire que cela va bien
ce soir même, car il était très bon pour moi et...
Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh (3 June 1890) ... ask me to dinner every Sunday or Monday.
But till now, while it is pleasant to
do a painting there,
it is rather a burden for me to dine and lunch there, for the
good soul takes the trouble to have 4 or 5 course
dinners, which is as dreadful for him as for me - for he
certainly hasn't a strong stomach. The thing that has
somewhat prevented me from protesting against it is that it
recalls the old times for him, when there were those family
dinners which we ourselves know so well. But the modern idea of
eating one - or at most two - courses is certainly progress, as
well as a return to real antiquity. Altogether father
Gachet is very, yes very like you and me. I read with pleasure
in your letter that M. Peyron asked for news of me when he
wrote you. I am going to write him this very evening that all
is well, for he was very good to me and I shall certainly not
forget him.
Desmoulins, the man who has some Japanese pictures at the
Champ de Mars, has come back here...