Starry, Starry Night -- Van Gogh & Art & Writing, Part One

On Monday at National Writing Project, I was in charge of doing the Invitation to Write. This takes the form of reading something (or perhaps music or a video, although they are only used sparingly) which will spark a writing idea.  It gives everyone in the workshop time to warm up their writing for the day.

 I chose a passage from a chapter in Brenda Euland's book If You Want to Write: A Book about Art, Independence, and Spirit.  This book was originally published in the 1930's, but the writing advice is as timely as ever.  I first read this book twenty years ago, and decided it was time to revisit.

Chapter 3 of Euland's book is entitled "Why a Renaissance Nobleman Wrote Sonnets" -- but she doesn't spend much time on the sonnets these young men wrote (which they did so they may better know themselves and their feelings).  Instead, she focused on Vincent van Gogh and the artist he was and why he was the artist he was.

This caught my attention, since it was just  a little over a year ago I saw a stunning exhibit of van Gogh's nature art which was showing at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. But more on that in a little bit.

This is part of what I read today from Euland's book:

When van Gogh was a young man in his early twenties, he was in London studying to be a clergyman.  He had no thought of being an artist at all. He sat in his cheap little room writing a letter to his younger brother in Holland, whom he loved very much. He looked out his window at a watery twilight, a thin lamppost, a star, and he said in his letter something like: "It is so beautiful I must show you how it looks."  And then on his ruled notepaper he made the most beautiful, tender little drawing of it....

The difference between van Gogh's letter and you and me is that while we may look at the sky and think it is beautiful, we don't go so far as to show someone else how it looks. This might be because we do not care enough about the sky or for other people. But most often I think it is because we have been discouraged into thinking that what we feel about the sky is not important.  (Euland 20,22)

"The Starry Night" Letter sketch * 2 October 1888

She went on to quote from another letter he wrote, where he said:

"We take beautiful walks together. It is very beautiful here, if one only has an open and simple eye without any beams in it. But if one has that it is beautiful everywhere."  (23)

The exhibit in Philadelphia was so overwhelming to me, to this day I cannot adequately explain how the art moved me.  I did write this about a week later:

Wheat Field with Cypresses at the Haute Galline Near Eygalieres June 1889

Oh Vincent, your art still makes me want to cry. I cannot think of a day in your gallery without feeling my eyes well with tears -- how could anything have moved me so deeply? There are simply no words -- you were not safe in your time -- they kept locking you away. You were not safe to yourself -- mutilation and destruction -- so sad. Yet, your landscapes steep and swirl -- they bring the earth and its bounty to the viewer and then they breathe it inside themselves where it stays.  I breathed you in and you have found a place in my soul, a place where you are nestled safely -- no mutilation or destruction now...only grace of a new age, the heart of someone mindful who loves you.

 After the invitation to write today, one of the participants, Rose, stood up and sang part of Don MacLean's song "Vincent." Once again, I am amazed, impressed, and emotionally moved with how writing, art, and music come together. As Vincent said, it is beautiful everywhere.  We just need to be open to it.

Part two of how art and writing and van Gogh converged will be on this blog tomorrow.

For now, sit back and enjoy this video of various van Gogh pieces set to the MacLean song.

Don MacLean's "Vincent" with van Gogh artwork

(Artwork courtesy of vggallery.com)