Carta de VIncent van Gogh a su hermano Theo
De Vincent van Gogh a su hermano, Theo van Gogh.
Arles, jueves, 16 de octubre de 1888 (Frgamento)
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Esta vez simplemente reproduce mi habitación; sólo el color tiene que hacerlo todo, dando un estilo grandioso a los objetos con su simplicidad, llegando a sugerir un cierto descanso o sueño. Bueno, he pensado que al ver la composición dejamos de pensar e imaginar.
Las paredes son de un violeta claro. El suelo es de lamas rojas.
La cama de madera y las sillas son amarillo mantequilla fresca.
Las sábanas y las almohadas, de color verde limón muy luminoso.
La colcha, de color escarlata.
La ventana, verde.
La mesita, anaranjado; el aguamanil, azul.
Las puertas, lila.
Y, eso es todo. No hay nada más en esta habitación con las contraventanas cerradas. La solidez de los muebles debe expresar un descanso firme.
Retratos en la pared, y un espejo, y una toalla, y algunas piezas de ropa.
El marco --no hay color blanco en el cuadro-- será blanco.
Esta es mi venganza por el descanso obligado que tuve que hacer.
No he representado ninguna sombra; sólo he aplicado colores planos, como los de los grabados japoneses.
El boceto.
De Vincent van Gogh a su hermano, Theo van Gogh.
Arles, jueves, 16 de octubre de 1888
Texto completo en inglés.
My dear Theo —
At last I’m sending you a little croquis to give you at least an idea of the direction the work is taking. Because today I’ve gone back to it.
My eyes are still tired, but anyway I had a new idea in mind, and here’s the croquis of it. No. 30 canvas once again.
This time it’s simply my bedroom, but the colour has to do the job here, and through its being simplified by giving a grander style to things, to be suggestive here of rest or of sleepin general. In short, looking at the painting should rest the mind, or rather, the imagination.
The walls are of a pale violet. The floor — is of red tiles.
The bedstead and the chairs are fresh butter yellow.
The sheet and the pillows very bright lemon green.
The bedspread scarlet red.
The window green.
The dressing table orange, the basin blue.
The doors lilac.
And that’s all — nothing in this bedroom, with its shutters closed.
The solidity of the furniture should also now express unshakeable repose.
Portraits on the wall, and a mirror and a hand-towel and some clothes.
The frame — as there’s no white in the painting — will be white.
This to take my revenge for the enforced rest that I was obliged to take.
I’ll work on it again all day tomorrow, but you can see how simple the idea is. The shadows and cast shadows are removed; it’s coloured in flat, plain tints like Japanese prints.
It will contrast, for example, with the Tarascon diligence2 and the night café.3 1v:2
I won’t write to you at length, because I’m going to start very early tomorrow with the fresh morning light, to finish my canvas.
How are your pains? Don’t forget to give me news about them.
I hope you’ll write in the next few days.
One day I’ll do you some croquis of the other rooms as well.
I shake your hand firmly.
Ever yours,
Vincent