For a first-time visitor to the National Gallery without any pre-knowledge of its existence, the sight of Vincent Van Gogh’s Sunflower was really extra joy.
My maiden visit started with a 60-minute guided tour led by an extremely energetic and demonstrative lady lecturer. She showed us around in the Sainsbury Wing where early paintings from the Renaissance Age are on display. Thanks to her expressiveness and highly amusing mimicry, I gradually recognized the signature reclining posture widely seen in paintings of that age and felt the growing urge to see more.
After strolling aimlessly from room to room, I suddenly found a large crowd circling one particular painting. Looking over their shoulders towards the wall, I felt my heartbeats quickening and promptly sat down on the bench to take in all its glory. Yes, there it was, the Sunflower. Quietly and unobtrusively, one of the world’s most famous paintings was in front of my own eyes among quite a number of other works from the same age. I was surprised to find how small it was. But the unquestionable glow of bright yellow and the childish scribbling of Vincent on the earthenware pot told me it really was Van Gogh’s most recognizable masterpiece. The ecstasy and anticipations in it were so tangible that it almost eclipsed other paintings in the room. It may not be common knowledge that with what excitement and whole-heartedness did Van Gogh dedicate Sunflower to his soul mate and mentor Gauguin. The latter’s agreement to join him in Arles for the creation of a new artists’ community simply overwhelmed our Dutch artist. The heart-warming sunshine-like shades of yellow, verging on gold at their brightest, are genuine demonstration of the artist’s yearning for empathy and friendship. Van Gogh himself said in a letter to his brother Theo that it takes the energy and concentration of a person’s whole being to accomplish the feat.
Van Gogh is perhaps the most well-known Western artist in China. His name is almost the synonym of Western art to the general public. Even those with the faintest understanding of Western art history would have heard of Van Gogh. Lots of them would also be quick to announce that Van Gogh’s works are the most expensive items on international market for fine arts. I recall there was a special exhibition featuring Van Gogh and several other his contemporary artists from Amsterdam at Beijing’s Millennium Art Gallery back in 2007. Van Gogh was of course the star of the show, even though what’s on display was only one of his less well-known self-portrait. But the exhibition was such a smash hit. The tickets were in such high demand. From the opening hour to the closure, there had been always a steady influx of viewers in front of the self-portrait throughout the month-long running period of the show. It’s not rare to see people gazing at the painting for half an hour, tears glistening in their eyes.
The best-known biography of Van Gogh in China is perhaps Lust for Life, written by American writer Irving Stone in 1934. Its Chinese version has been reprinted numerous times, helping art lovers and art critics form their initial understanding of Van Gogh’s inner world. But the earliest Chinese-language biography of Van Gogh was actually done by renowned Chinese cartoonist Fong Tse Ka back in 1929, exactly 30 years after Van Gogh’s death. Looking back, Mr Fong’s work may not be regarded as a standard biography in the term’s strictest sense, due to a lack of historian’s exactness and pursuit of accuracy in details. But as an artist, Mr Fong demonstrated his sharp insight into Van Gogh’s innermost struggles in reconciling his ideals with the tough reality. Mr. Fong divided all artists into two categories. One group is so-called pure artists or artisans. To understand their art, you just need to look at the technicalities of their works. There are no needs whatsoever to understand their personality and their lives. Mr. Fong classified impressionist master Cezanne into this category. But he elevated Van Gogh into a higher category of artists whose lives and personality are such integral part of their art that mere skills and techniques fail to exemplify the full extent of their grandeur. He also pointed out that all great arts lead to religion in the end and Van Gogh’ outlandishness and mental disorder were the devotion to his religion in its highest degree as a rebellion against such an imperfect world.
Contemporary Chinese art is certainly in great need of its own masters. Since 2007, the story of a so-called “Grandma Van Gogh” has been widespread on Chinese media. The old lady’s name is Chang Xiufeng. This lady spent most of her life in the countryside in southern China until she moved to Guangzhou to live with her son after the death of her husband. With no acquaintance in the big city and nothing much to do aside from household chores, she picked up her granddaughter’s wax pencil and started drawing in her mid-70s. Illiterate and without a single day’s training in art, she miraculously found art’s calling and demonstrated such astonishing talent. Nostalgia and rural landscape are constant themes of her works. And their easy brushwork and rustic candidness are so contagious that there have been such outpourings of Chiadmiration and empathy once her works were posted on the Internet by an art blogger. In many people’s eyes, this old lady’s works are the embodiment of the beauty of rural society receding in an increasingly modernizing China. One of her famous quotes came from her appearance on a talk show hosted by famous Chinese anchorwoman Lu Yu. Ms. Chang said she really doesn’t understand what Van Gogh’s Starry Night is all about. But she argued in her opinions she certainly can draw better sunflowers than Van Gogh did. Because she knew sunflowers would wither and decay in a vase. But they would flourish and blossom if planted in soil.
For a closer look at Grandma Van Gogh’s work of art, please click the link below to see the collection on the official website of China’s Xinhua News Agency.
http://news.xinhuanet.com/book/2009-06/16/content_11548506.htm