494 To Theo van Gogh. Nuenen, on or about Saturday, 18 April 1885.

metadata

No. 494 (Brieven 1990 497, Complete Letters 401)
From: Vincent van Gogh
To: Theo van Gogh
Date: Nuenen, on or about Saturday, 18 April 1885

Source status

Original manuscript

Location

Amsterdam, Van Gogh Museum, inv. no. b439 a-bV/1962

Date

Vincent thanks Theo for his letter, which was a reply to letter 493 of Monday, 13 April, the day he ordered a lithographic stone. He has meanwhile had prints of the lithograph of the potato eaters made and encloses some of them. This means that several days must have elapsed between the two letters. The next letter to Theo is dated 21 April; we have therefore dated the present letter on or about Saturday, 18 April 1885.

Ongoing topic

Preparations for The potato eaters (490)

original text

1r:1

Waarde Theo,

Inliggend een paar interessante bladzijden over kleur, namelijk de groote waarheden waarin Delacroix geloofde.1

Voeg daarbij “les anciens ne prenaient pas par la ligne mais par les milieux”, dat is met de cirkel of ellipsvormige basissen der massas beginnen in plaats van den contour.– Dat laatste vond ik de juiste woorden voor in het boek van Gigoux. doch de daadzaak zelf hield me al lang bezig.2 Mij dunkt, naarmate ’t geen men doet gevoeld is en leven heeft, wordt het gecritiseerd en wekt ergernis op doch tevens overwint het op den duur de critiek.

’t Geen gij me schrijft over M. Portier deed mij zeker veel genoegen, doch het zal de vraag wezen of hij volhoudt.–3 Alleen, ik weet dat ze bestaan, zekere nog al zeldzame lui die foi de charbonnier4 hebben en door de publieke opinie niet heen & weer bewogen worden.

Dat hij er personnalité in bespeurde doet me regt veel genoegen, en trouwens meer & meer zoek ik ook me zelf te zijn, ’t me onverschillig latende betrekkelijk of men het heel leelijk of beter vinde. Dat wil niet zeggen ’t me onverschillig zou wezen of M. Portier blijve bij de opinie die hij heeft opgevat – integendeel, ik zal trachten dingen te maken die hem er in versterken.

1v:2

Ge ontvangt met deze post een paar afdrukken van een lithographie.5

De schets die ik in de hut schilderde6 zou ik met eenige wijzigingen wel in een definitieven vorm van schilderij willen overwerken.7 En zou er welligt een zijn dat Portier exposeeren kon of dat we naar een tentoonstelling konden zenden. Ten minste ’t is een geval dat ik gevoeld heb, en een zoodanig waar ik zelf net zoo goed als andere critici gebreken en bepaalde fouten in zou weten aan te wijzen.–

Doch er zit een zeker leven in en misschien meer dan in zekere schilderijen waar gansch geen fouten in zijn.–

Ik geloof ook dat als Henri Pille er zeggen over had, de chat noir ’t misschien niet zou hebben geweigerd.8

Dit kan me nu overigens niet veel schelen want om onafhankelijk te zijn wil ik zelf lithografieeren leeren.

Als ik de schets omwerk tot schilderij dan maak ik er tevens een nieuwe lith. van en wel zoo dat de figuren – die nu tot mijn spijt omgedraaid zijn – weer regt komen.

Op dat de brief niet te dik worde, daar Moe ook nog schrijft,9eindig ik. later meer en dank voor Uw schrijven. Met een handdruk.

b. à t.

Vincent

2r:3

Les anciens n’ont admis que trois couleurs primaires, le jaune, le rouge et le bleu, et les peintres modernes n’en admettent pas d’autres. Ces trois couleurs, en effet, sont les seules indecomposables et irréductibles. Tout le monde sait que le rayon solaire se decompose en une suite de sept couleurs, que Newton a appelées primitives: le violet, l’indigo, le bleu, le vert, le jaune, l’orangé et le rouge; mais il est clair que le nom de primitives ne saurait convenir à trois de ces couleurs qui sont composites, puisque l’orangé se fait avec du rouge et du jaune – le vert avec du jaune et du bleu – le violet avec du bleu et du rouge.– Quant à l’indigo, il ne saurait compter non plus parmi les couleurs primitives, puisqu’il n’est qu’une varieté du bleu. Il faut donc reconnaitre avec l’antiquité qu’il n’y a dans la nature que trois couleurs veritablement élémentaires, lesquelles, en se mélangeant deux à deux, engendrent trois autres couleurs composées, dites binaires, l’orangé, le vert et le violet.–

Ces rudiments, developpés par des savants modernes, ont conduit à la notion de certaines lois qui forment une lumineuse theorie des couleurs – theorie qu’Eug. Delacroix possedait scientifiquement et à fond, après l’avoir connu par instinct. 2v:4 (Voir Grammaire des arts du dessin, 3^m ed. Renouard).

Si l’on combine deux des couleurs primaires – le jaune et le rouge, par exemple, pour en composer une couleur binaire, l’orangé, cette couleur binaire atteindra son maximum d’eclat dès qu’on la rapprochera de la troisième couleur primaire, non employée dans le melange. De même, si l’on combine le rouge et le bleu pour en produire le violet – cette couleur binaire – le violet sera exaltée par le voisinage immédiat du jaune.– Enfin, si l’on combine le jaune et le bleu pour en former le vert, ce vert sera exalté par le voisinage immédiat du rouge.– On appelle avec raison Complémentaires chacune des trois couleurs primitives par rapport à la couleur binaire qui lui correspond. Ainsi le bleu est complementaire de l’orangé, le jaune est complementaire du violet, et le rouge complémentaire du vert.– Réciproquement, chacune des couleurs composées est complementaire de la couleur primitive non employée dans le mélange. Cette exaltation réciproque est ce qu’on nomme la loi du contraste simultané.–

2v:5

Si les couleurs complémentaires sont prises à égalité de valeur, c’est à dire au même degré de vivacité et de lumière, leur juxtaposition les élèvera l’une et l’autre à une intensité si violente que les yeux humains pourront à peine en supporter la vue. Et par un phenomème singulier, ces mêmes couleurs qui s’exaltent par leur juxtaposition se detruiront par leur melange. Ainsi – lorsqu’on mêle ensemble du bleu et de l’orangé à quantités égales, l’orangé n’étant pas plus orangé que le bleu n’est bleu – le melange detruit les deux tons et il en resulte un gris absolument incolore.

Mais – si l’on mêle ensemble deux complementaires à proportions inégales, elles ne se detruiront que partiellement et on aura UN TON ROMPU – qui sera une varieté du gris.– Cela étant, de nouveaux contrastes pourront naître de la juxtaposition de deux complementaires, dont l’une est pure et l’autre rompue.– La lutte étant inegale, une des deux couleurs triomphe et l’intensité de la dominante n’empêche pas l’accord des deux.–

2r:6

Que si maintenant on rapproche les semblables à l’état pur, mais à divers degrés d’énergie, par exemple le bleu foncé et le bleu clair, on obtiendra un autre effet, dans lequel il y aura contraste par la difference d’intensité, et harmonie par la similitude des couleurs. Enfin, si deux semblables sont juxtaposées, l’une à l’état pur, l’autre rompue – par exemple du bleu pur avec du bleu gris, il en resultera un autre genre de contraste qui sera tempéré par l’analogie. On voit donc qu’il existe plusieurs moyens differents entre eux mais egalement infaillibles, de fortifier, de soutenir, d’attenuer ou de neutraliser l’effet d’une couleur, et cela en operant sur ce qui l’avoisine – en touchant ce qui n’est pas elle.

Pour exalter et harmoniser ses couleurs, il emploie tout ensemble le contraste des complementaires et la concordance des analogues, en d’autres termes la répétition d’un ton vif par le meme ton rompu.–10

translation

1r:1

My dear Theo,

Enclosed a few interesting pages about colour, that is, the great verities in which Delacroix believed.1

Add to this ‘the ancients didn’t start from the line but from the centres’; that is, beginning with the circular or elliptical bases of the masses instead of the outline. I found the right words for the latter in Gigoux’s book, but the thing itself had already occupied me for a long time.2 It seems to me that the more what one does is felt and has life, the more it’s criticized and gives offence, but at the same time it overcomes the criticism in the long run.

What you write to me about Mr Portier certainly pleased me greatly, but the question is whether he sticks to it.3 Only, I know that they do exist, these certainly rather rare people who have collier’s faith4 and aren’t moved hither and thither by public opinion.

That he detected personality in it pleases me very much indeed, and anyway I’m also trying more and more to be myself, remaining relatively indifferent as to whether people think it very ugly or better. That’s not to say that it would be a matter of indifference to me whether Mr Portier sticks to the opinion he has formed — on the contrary, I’ll try to make things that confirm him in it. 1v:2

You’ll receive a couple of copies of a lithograph by this post.5

I’d like to work up the sketch I painted in the cottage,6 with a few changes, into a definitive form of painting.7 And could perhaps be one that Portier could show or that we could send to an exhibition. At least it’s a thing that I’ve felt, and one such that I would be able to point to defects and certain errors in it myself, just as well as other critics.

Yet there’s a certain life in it, and perhaps more than in certain paintings in which there are no errors at all.

I also think that if it had been up to Henri Pille, Le Chat Noir might not have refused it.8

I’m not much bothered about it, anyway, because I want to learn to make lithographs myself so as to be independent.

If I work the sketch up into a painting, I’ll also make a new lithograph of it, and such that the figures — which are now reversed, I’m sorry to say — come right again.

I’m ending now so that the letter doesn’t become too bulky, because Ma’s also going to write.9 More later, and thanks for your letter. With a handshake.

Yours truly,

Vincent

2r:3

The ancients accepted only three primary colours, yellow, red and blue, and modern painters don’t accept any others. These three colours, in fact, are the only ones that can’t be broken down and are irreducible. The whole world knows that the sun’s rays break down into a series of seven colours, which Newton called primary: violet, indigo, blue, green, yellow, orange and red; but it’s clear that the name ‘primary’ wouldn’t fit three of these colours, which are composite, since orange is made with red and yellow — green with yellow and blue — violet with blue and red. As for indigo, it can’t be counted among the primary colours, either, since it’s no more than a variety of blue. We must therefore acknowledge with Antiquity that in nature there are only three truly elementary colours, which, by being mixed two by two, create three other composite colours, called binaries: orange, green and violet.

These rudiments, developed by modern scholars, have led to the notion of certain laws, which form a luminous theory of colours — a theory that E. Delacroix mastered scientifically and thoroughly, after having instinctively known it. 2v:4 (See Grammaire des arts du dessin, 3rd ed., Renouard).

If one combines two of the primary colours — yellow and red, for example, in order to create a binary colour, orange, this binary colour will attain its maximum brilliance when one places it close to the third primary colour, not used in the mixture. Similarly, if one combines red and blue to produce violet — that binary colour — the violet will be heightened by the immediate proximity of yellow. Lastly, if one combines yellow and blue to form green, this green will be heightened by the immediate proximity of red. Each of the three primary colours is rightly called Complementary in relation to the binary colour that corresponds with it. Thus blue is the complementary of orange, yellow is the complementary of violet, and red the complementary of green. Vice versa, each of the composite colours is the complementary of the primary colour not used in the mixture. This reciprocal heightening is what’s called the law of simultaneous contrast. 2v:5

If the complementary colours are taken at equal value, that’s to say, at the same degree of brightness and light, their juxtaposition will raise both the one and the other to an intensity so violent that human eyes will scarcely be able to bear to look at it. And by a singular phenomenon, these same colours, which are heightened by being juxtaposed, will destroy one another by being mixed. Thus — when one mixes together blue and orange in equal quantities, the orange being no more orange than the blue is blue — the mixing destroys the two tones and the result is an absolutely colourless grey.

But — if one mixes together two complementaries in unequal proportions, they only partially destroy one another, and you’ll have A BROKEN TONE — which will be a variety of grey. That being so, new contrasts will emerge from the juxtaposition of two complementaries, one of which is pure and the other broken. The contest being unequal, one of these two colours triumphs, and the intensity of the dominant one doesn’t prevent there being harmony between the two. 2r:6

Because if one now brings together similar colours in the pure state, but with differing degrees of energy, for example, dark blue and light blue, one will obtain a different effect, in which there will be a contrast by virtue of the difference in intensity, and harmony by virtue of the similarity. Lastly, if two similar colours are juxtaposed, one in the pure state, the other broken — for example, pure blue with grey blue, the result will be another sort of contrast which will be tempered by the analogy between them. One can thus see that there exist several ways, different from each other, but equally infallible, of strengthening, supporting, attenuating or neutralizing the effect of a colour, and they involve working on what’s next to it — by touching what isn’t the colour itself.

In order to heighten and harmonize his colours, he uses the contrast between complementaries and agreement between analogues all together, in other words, the repetition of a vivid tone by the same broken tone.10

notes

1. The passage that Van Gogh copied out and enclosed comes from Charles Blanc, Les artistes de mon temps (see n. 10 below). Vincent had intended to write it out for Theo as early as June 1884 (see letter 449). Fromentin also wrote about ‘value’ and the effect of adjacent colours on one another in Les maîtres d’autrefois (see Fromentin 1902, chapter 6, pp. 235 ff.). Van Gogh had borrowed the book from Van Rappard: see letter 451.

2. Derived from what Gigoux wrote about Delacroix in Causeries sur les artistes de mon temps (Gigoux 1885, p. 81). The context of this quote is mentioned in letter 526, n. 10. Van Gogh had previously written to Van Rappard about this subject: see letter 441; he refers to this quote again in letters 496; 502, 506, 526, 555 and 559.

3. Theo, who had shown the art dealer Alphonse Portier the sketch The potato eaters (F 1226 / JH 736), told his mother about it: ‘I was quite glad that I could give Vincent good news recently, I don’t think it will amount to much for the time being, but the person who gave me his opinion of his work is someone of great experience and on whose judgement one can count. He still hasn’t sold anything, but that will come. In any event it is certain that when someone like that sees something in it, that more will be found who will think the same of it. What I should wish, for him too, is that he started to see the fruits of his work. Many before him have had to struggle for a long time before they sold something. It’s not necessary, though, for everyone to have to wait so long and so I very much hope that he will get satisfaction from his works within a short time’ (FR b900, 22 April 1885).

4. See for ‘collier’s faith’: letter 286, n. 17.

5. The lithograph The potato eaters (F 1661 / JH 737 ). Ill. 2135 . Later Van Gogh says he did this ‘entirely from memory and in 1 day’ (letter 516). There are nine impressions that are known to have been in Theo’s possession. See Van Heugten and Pabst 1995, pp. 97-98.

6. The potato eaters (F 78 / JH 734 ).

7. This would result in The potato eaters (F 82 / JH 764 ).

8. Charles Henri Pille was noted as the illustrator of, among other things, Don Quixote and works by Victor Hugo. He worked for the periodical Le Chat Noir. Van Gogh met him during his stay in Paris in May 1875-March 1876, when he was an employee of Goupil & Cie (letter 234, n. 12). This passage would appear to indicate that Theo did indeed take the drawing to Le Chat Noir magazine.

9. This letter from Mrs van Gogh is not known.

10. Derived from Charles Blanc, Les artistes de mon temps (Blanc 1876, pp. 64-66, 69). Vincent amended the text in several places for Theo. Aside from a few minor textual changes, the most important difference is that the emphasis Van Gogh puts in three times does not occur in Blanc. Cf. for ‘ton rompu’ also letter 450, n. 12. See for Blanc's Grammaire des arts du dessin: letter 454, n. 17.