Week 3- and it was Van Gogh. The story of his life is powerful and tragic. Indeed, his own life a wrestling of faith, evangleism and the descent into th
e raw fabric of life among those 'outcast' and in the gutter. He may have been no preacher, but through the torment of the life communicated in his art there is meaning conveyed. I am no art critic, but I stand amazed and in awe at the shift from the darkness of the potato eaters to the transformed and brilliantly colourful world of his later works.
e raw fabric of life among those 'outcast' and in the gutter. He may have been no preacher, but through the torment of the life communicated in his art there is meaning conveyed. I am no art critic, but I stand amazed and in awe at the shift from the darkness of the potato eaters to the transformed and brilliantly colourful world of his later works.See here the Wheatfield with Crows(1890)
Schama says, "His art would reclaim what had once belonged to religion - consolation for our mortality through the relish of the gift of life. It wasn't the art crowd he was after; he wanted was to open the eyes and the hearts of everyone who saw his paintings. I feel he got what he wanted. So what are we looking at with this painting? There’s suffocation, but elation too. The crows might be coming at us, but equally they might be flying away, demons gone as we immerse ourselves in the power of nature. It's a massive wall of writhing brilliant paint, in which the colour itself seems to tremble and pulse and sway."What intrigues me is wha must have been going on in his head. The tensions of the grind and brokenness of his life and that of others he had immersed himself in and yet this wonderful artistic genius that had him paint a painting a day at one stage, the rapid energy that poured out of him and generated such artworks and yet drained him of his very life too.
Recently we reflected upon Psalm 8 at the Caim readings. As I look at van Gogh's art here it comes to mind:
PSALM 8
1 God, brilliant Lord, yours is a household name. 2 Nursing infants gurgle choruses about you; toddlers shout the songs That drown out enemy talk, and silence atheist babble.
3 I look up at your macro-skies, dark and enormous, your handmade sky-jewelry, Moon and stars mounted in their settings. 4 Then I look at my micro-self and wonder, Why do you bother with us? Why take a second look our way? 5 Yet we've so narrowly missed being gods, bright with Eden's dawn light. 6 You put us in charge of your handcrafted world, repeated to us your Genesis-charge, 7 Made us lords of sheep and cattle, even animals out in the wild, 8 Birds flying and fish swimming, whales singing in the ocean deeps. 9 God, brilliant Lord, your name echoes around the world.
1 God, brilliant Lord, yours is a household name. 2 Nursing infants gurgle choruses about you; toddlers shout the songs That drown out enemy talk, and silence atheist babble.
3 I look up at your macro-skies, dark and enormous, your handmade sky-jewelry, Moon and stars mounted in their settings. 4 Then I look at my micro-self and wonder, Why do you bother with us? Why take a second look our way? 5 Yet we've so narrowly missed being gods, bright with Eden's dawn light. 6 You put us in charge of your handcrafted world, repeated to us your Genesis-charge, 7 Made us lords of sheep and cattle, even animals out in the wild, 8 Birds flying and fish swimming, whales singing in the ocean deeps. 9 God, brilliant Lord, your name echoes around the world.
