Vincent van Gogh is known and loved by many, not only as the artist behind The Starry Night and Sunflowers, among others, but also as the troubled man who cut off his ear. There is no question of his talent as a painter, however, his skill as a writer is rarely discussed. Van Gogh wrote hundreds upon hundreds of letters in his time, and while these letters served as correspondence with his friends and family, they are also beautifully written pieces that stand strong in their own right. Van Gogh wrote primarily to his brother Theo, his greatest supporter, and discussed an immense variety of topics, from practical day-to-day grievances to existential musings. Through these letters we gain a much deeper insight into the legend of Vincent van Gogh whilst getting to appreciate the beauty of his writing.

In exploring these letters, the first thing I noticed was his vivid descriptions of the landscapes around him, especially when he was moving from place to place. He often compared his new surroundings to his previous ones, focusing particularly on the subtleties and variations of the colours he saw: “The stretches of water make patches of a beautiful emerald and a rich blue in the landscapes, as we see it in the Japanese prints. Pale orange sunsets making the fields look blue — glorious yellow suns.” The way these scenes are described painted a vivid picture in my mind; he was a skilled artist with words as well as with paint. In these letters, we can also see him use these kinds of descriptions in his process for planning his paintings, which reveals a different side of Van Gogh to the erratic, passionate artist stereotype we are used to hearing about. In seeing his planning process, we learn how strategic he actually was in his work. I also found that these descriptions made me more aware of my own approach to describing my surroundings; I started to notice the way I describe the colours I see around me in order to remember them more accurately to paint later, especially when my camera doesn’t pick them up the way I see them.

Reflecting on the topic of writing and painting, it seems that these two arts are inseparable from one another, and you cannot always pinpoint where one ends and the other begins. In one of his letters to his sister Willemien, Van Gogh writes: “I’d also like to see if I can’t make my own portrait in writing,” and, as he cannot send Willemien a painting, goes on to paint it extensively with words. Van Gogh had his own thoughts on the practice of writing, which he expressed in several of his letters. In one of his letters, we can see him advising  French Post-Impressionist painter and writer Émile Bernard on his sonnets, as well as discussing his thoughts on this to Theo in another letter: “It’s as interesting and as difficult to say a thing well as to paint a thing. There’s the art of lines and colours, but there’s the art of words that will last just the same.” Here, Van Gogh has beautifully encapsulated the idea that painting and writing are but two branches of the same tree. Many creatives are often creative through multiple avenues, and Van Gogh was no different.

He wrote thoughtfully on a range of subjects, including the issues that many artists of his day faced. Living conditions for artists at this time were often extremely poor, as they struggled for money, accommodation and materials while trying to earn a living through their art. Van Gogh had an intense desire to improve these conditions, which we can see in the many talks he had with Theo about the prospect of creating a support system for artists. It is evident in his letters that he cared deeply for the wellbeing of both present and future artists. Throughout his writing, he expressed feelings of frustration at the current situation, mixed with hope for the future. He also raised the question of whether his generation of artists, who were working towards this better future, would even be around to benefit from these improvements.

from all the dealings he had to have with people, in the process of selling, promoting and exhibiting his work, in order to support his artistic practice. He wrote that it seemed to him that people were at the heart of everything and that you could not simply be an artist without everything coming back to your dealings with people. Here, Van Gogh echoed a sentiment that is still felt by artists today with the rising role of social media in the arts. In our time, we feel this more with the obligation to be always active on social media in order to promote, sell and exhibit our work. It is clear that art has never been confined to purely the act of creation, and artists then and now alike have had to grapple with this frustration of our creation not being enough by itself.

Throughout his letters, Van Gogh regularly mentioned being in poor health. He often spoke of these periods of illness as being a matter of patience as he waited for his health to return. Van Gogh was not alone in his predicament and wrote about this with great exasperation, wishing for a brighter future for artists: “For God’s sake, when are we going to see a generation of artists with healthy bodies?”

Along with his poor physical health, Van Gogh later started to write of his “neurosis”, as he called it, which is the aspect of his health that people are most aware of. What is especially heart-wrenching in reading his letters is how you can see the progression of his mental illness over time as well as his handling of it. In his earlier letters, he often wrote with a matter-of-fact and even hopeful tone with respect to his life. This contrasts starkly with his later letters where he sounds more hopeless and almost despairing at times. He framed his life experiences and struggles in many artfully written reflections that are heartbreaking to read. He wrote to Theo: “It’s not in black that I see the future, but I see it bristling with many difficulties, and at times I wonder if these won’t be stronger than I am.” Reading this with the knowledge of how much further his mental health would deteriorate feels tragic, especially having seen how much drive and hope he had earlier in his life. He wrote to his sister before entering an asylum: “It’s very likely that I have a lot more to suffer and that doesn’t suit me at all, to tell you the truth, for I wouldn’t wish for a martyr’s career in any circumstances.” Van Gogh’s expression of his suffering in such an articulate and moving fashion invites us to deeply empathise with his situation.

We also learn about his relationship with reading, particularly when faced with asylum confinement. With no way to go out and paint, he turned to reading as a source of comfort and mental stimulation. He wrote of rereading books as he was preparing to go into the asylum and talks of using Charles Dickens’ remedy against suicide: “a glass of wine, a piece of bread and cheese and a pipe of tobacco.” I see in his writing something that I often feel in myself and that I’m sure exists in all of us; this tendency to find inspiration, to live and to create, in the books we consume. He wrote of a range of ways in which he tried to renew his attitude to life, so clearly wanting to recover and live.  It emphasises the tragedy of his death when you read how passionately he wanted to live.

In this article, I have only touched on the rich variety of themes in Van Gogh’s writing, so I would implore you to read them yourself. If nothing else, you may see your own struggles and joys reflected in the writing of the famous artist. These letters serve as an important reminder of the vast breadth of Vincent van Gogh’s creativity, while giving us a whirlwind of a read full of the fluctuations  of life.