Paris 22 Dec. 1889
My dear Vincent,
I’ve safely received your consignment of the Wheatfield1 and the two Bedrooms.2 Above all I like the last one,3 which in terms of colour is like a bouquet of flowers. It has a very great intensity of colour. The Wheatfield perhaps has more poetry; it’s like a memory of something one has seen. Tanguy is mounting it at the moment, and on 3 January everything is leaving for Brussels. Now I have something
1v:2 that gave me great pleasure. I was visited at home by Mr Lauzet, Monticelli’s lithographer.4 He came to see ours,5 and considers them very fine. As regards the flowers,6 he doesn’t think he can render them, as the prints are monochrome and he doesn’t think he can render the feeling of this painting in one colour. He’s starting with the Italian woman.7 But what pleased him above all was your canvases and your drawings, oh but he understands them. He’s been seeing them for a long time at Tanguy’s, and he was really pleased to see all that I had here, while going through the drawings there was a woman picking up apples8 that he liked, and I made him a present of it, for I think you’d have done the same. He
1v:3 came back to the shop the next day to ask me if there wouldn’t be some way of having another drawing you did right at the beginning when you were at St-Rémy. On the left a little thicket of dark trees against a sky with a crescent moon, on the right a gate.9 He told me that he couldn’t get this drawing out of his mind, that it was finer than the drawings of V. Hugo, which he likes a great deal etc. I suggested that he exchange it for a copy of his Monticelli album, which he accepted immediately. The album is still far from being ready but he will finish it, Cottier and Reid have put their names down for several copies so he’s covered for the printing costs. There are 16 lithographs ready out of 25 he wants to do.
What I consider the most successful thing is the head of a child we saw once at La Roquette’s.10 The artist seems very sympathetic to me. He’s from the south and has something of the Spaniard about him, pale face and black beard, but at the same time something gentle like an English poet. It’s a great pity he hasn’t done any prints in several colours, for one doesn’t realize the strength of the colour that Monticelli was one of the first to employ by using an opposition to obtain power while remaining harmonious. The prints that I’ve seen resemble etchings on stone like Marvy did.11
You say that you sometimes think that you would have done better by remaining a dealer, but don’t say that. Look at Gauguin for example, I do like his talent and I’m well aware12 of what he wants, but I haven’t managed to sell anything
2r:5 whatsoever of his, and yet I have all kinds of things by him. The public is most rebellious towards things that aren’t done in perfect order. And it’s evident that Gauguin, who is half Inca, half European, superstitious like the former and advanced in ideas like certain of the latter, can’t work every day in the same way. It’s most unfortunate that we can’t find something he can live from. These latest paintings are less saleable than last year’s.13 He wrote to me last week that one of his children fell out of a window and was picked up almost dead. There is hope, though, of saving it.14 He’d do anything to obtain a little money, but I can’t procure any for him.
Pissarro, too, is at bay. He works like a negro. He made a very pretty fan for Jo. Women chatting in the fields with a rainbow in the background,15 up to now he hasn’t yet seen this gentleman from Auvers,16 at least he writes nothing about the subject, the best thing will be for you to come to us in the spring and go yourself to see if you can find lodgings that suit you in the country. We must in any case be pleased that you’re much better than you were this time last year. Then I feared that you might not recover.
We’re expecting Wil on 2 Jan., she’ll stay a month with us. I share your opinion that I’d be delighted if she could see her way to marrying, and the man who had her would find a charming wife in her.
Cor writes quite often from the Transvaal.17 Life down there can’t be much fun. There are no plants or flowers. If the heat isn’t torrid, it rains so much that everything is flooded. The days are all absolutely alike, which is why he says he detests Sundays and other time off. You know that Isaäcson was to go there too, but as his friends in Amsterdam are very kind to him, and I think that as long as they support him he’ll stay there and will be able to occupy himself over there.18 The Transvaal isn’t to be recommended, from what one can gather. Here the weather is abominable, cold and grey; almost everybody is ill. How are you? Is it
2r:8 as cold down there as in Arles? I’m curious to see your Olive trees.19 They can be beautiful. The Sunflowers20 were on show at Tanguy’s this week and made a very good effect. Your paintings cheer up Tanguy’s shop, and père Tanguy likes them a lot, but he no longer sells anything but yours. I very much like the two drawings you sent.21 Do you want me to send some to Brussels? Reply immediately on this subject, for there’s no time to lose for the framing. Jo sends her warm regards, she’s very well, relatively speaking.22 I hope that you’ll do the little one’s portrait this spring. I shake your hand firmly, and hope that you’ll have a good end to the year.
I received your postcard, the paintings will be ready in time.23