📝 Poets and Lovers
An 'artist date' amongst Van Gogh's masterpieces
‘I am an an artist — which I won’t take back, because those words naturally imply always seeking without ever fully finding.’ — Vincent Van Gogh
I
Poets
It’s almost the perfect London day: a Sunday morning in early autumn, just after the rain, full of puddles on the ground and leaves scattered from trees that have started to shed.
I take the 38 bus to the city center, arriving early on purpose. One of the few things I enjoy more than visiting an art gallery is exploring its bookshop—and The National Gallery never disappoints. I skip the massive line going around the corner to access the gallery because I hold a ticket and go straight in. I’m truly surprised by the number of people spending their Sunday morning admiring old paintings. Art matters. To most of us.
I’m here to see Van Gogh’s exhibition, Poets and Lovers.
When I was 16, I started painting for the first time. My mum, noticing my creative inclinations, enrolled me in art classes with a local artist. One of the paintings I did that year was a replica of Van Gogh’s Starry Night in oils, which has hung on the wall of my parents’ entrance hall at their place in Spain ever since.
I already admired Van Gogh’s work back then. He’s been a visual influence for a long time, but it was only a couple of years ago that I rediscovered him through Hockney’s art and writings. David Hockney writes extensively about Vincent, whom he takes as inspiration. Both artists love nature and find in it great comfort and inspiration. The truth is, I rediscovered Van Gogh’s paintings through Hockney, but as I went deeper into his oeuvre, I also uncovered his wonderful letters (mainly to his brother Theo) and drawings along the way, which have been a great source of inspiration since.
These are a few books I recommend, which I am currently revisiting and enjoying:
The experience inside the exhibition is overwhelming. There are definitely too many people, but I can’t wrap my head around the fact that I am—probably for the first time ever—in a room full of Van Goghs. There’s so much beauty and life captured in these paintings. My heart races. I’m excited and filled with joy.
The exhibition is also very carefully curated. As an architect, I tend to notice details that others might overlook or dismiss. The colour choices for each room matched the themes of the paintings displayed, and the transitions between green, blue, yellow, and blue again seemed to subtly prepare the mood of the viewer to absorb the art. The quotes hanging above some of the paintings hinted at the reason behind their grouping. I especially loved that one of the rooms was dedicated exclusively to Van Gogh’s drawings (we’ll talk more about them in future posts).
II
Lovers
Back at home, with many more books than I can probably afford (what can I say? I am a book lover), I take time to reflect on the exhibition. There’s a fundamental lesson beyond the technical brilliance of Vincent’s skills and artwork, and it’s this:
What truly amazes me about Van Gogh is how much he accomplished in just about a decade of practice. His dedication was remarkable. He committed to becoming an artist—or rather, to making art—around 1880, and from that point on, he studied and worked relentlessly to achieve his goal.
Hockney speaks often about the life of a working artist and the love and joy found in drawing:
I draw all the time. Wasn’t it Degas who said, ‘I’m just a man who likes to draw’? That’s me!
Van Gogh was largely self-taught but always studious—he closely observed the work of artists who inspired him and frequently replicated their pieces to learn from their techniques. The paintings in the exhibition are a testament to the mastery he achieved by the end of his life, and to the things he loved and brought him that sense of wonder.
Do what you love. Love what you do.
But of course, it’s not that simple. There doesn’t seem to be any secret to making art, according to many experts (I’m still grappling with it myself), other than to simply keep going. But that’s the hardest part, isn’t it, really? David Bayles and Ted Orland wrote an entire book on the subject, it’s called Art & Fear:
Basically, those who continue to make art are those who have learned how to continue—or more precisely, have learned how to not quit.
It seems obvious, but this is the big lesson: learn how not to quit, keep going through it all: the good, the bad, and the ugly. Find your reason not to quit. For Vincent, in particular, curiosity and self-improvement were his motivations:
I keep on making what I can’t do yet in order to learn to be able to do it.
Always seeking without ever fully finding.
✏️✨
Happy sketching!
Ana