Van Gogh in Paris

By John Adams

©2006-2008

 

  It’s an hour past the final curtain and all Montmartre is quiet, aside from the occasional drama that happens when someone arrives home when they shouldn’t or much later than they should. In the coldness of a pre-dawn February morning, without the constant drone of petrol based traffic, electric motors or amplified sounds, shrieking human voices travel a surprising distance.

 

  The apartment at 25 Rue Laval is small, even for one person. Theo Van Gogh is asleep, but it’s the kind of restless sleep you have when you’re wanting a special someone next to you. The body Theo is missing is that of whom he calls his mistress, an entertainer at the Folies-Bergere. He would like her to stay with him on a full-time basis, but Marie is a modern Parisienne who thinks sex is different than love and has no qualms about having been the mistress of several men. And, as much as Theo wants to be with her, how can a man ask a woman of questionable virtue to move in with him when he argued so long and passionately against his brother when his brother had been in exactly the same situation fours years ago? He is resigned to knowing this is the only way he can have Marie in his life. He makes the best of it by saying how fashionable it is to have a mistress these days and how much cheaper it is, when you don’t have to support her full time.

 

  Theo doesn’t approve of her current job, she makes more when she’s modeling, but, as she’s been the subject of so many paintings the last few years, it’s almost impossible for Theo to find work for her. As the elder Pissarro commented, "Marie is beautiful, obviously, but her real talent is her incredible presence, an artist would give anything to capture that on canvas. But, what happens when everyone wants to paint the same person? Not since Jesus has so many people wanted to paint the same person. The only difference is that in addition to painting Marie, all the artists want to sleep with her, too. Only Phillipe wants to sleep with Jesus."  
 

  There are three very soft knocks at the door.

   
  Marie whispers, "Theo, are you up?"

   
  "I am now." Theo puts on his pants, walks carefully in the dark, opens the door, yawning. "You made it.  Sorry I wasn’t there."


  "There is nothing to be sorry about."


  Feeling guilty, Theo tries to explain.  "I had a late appointment and just couldn't drag myself out of bed.  Are you all right?  I worry so much."


  "There is nothing to worry about.  Everyone up at this hour is an old friend.  But, it would be easier if you could give me a key."

 
  "You know I can’t do that. What if you lost it or got robbed and someone realized the key was to this apartment?" Pointing his arm at the nearest wall, "You know how much these paintings would be worth?"


  Giving a one-sided smile, "Not much from the latest critique." She lays a newspaper on the table. "But, one day, you will be proven right and the world will recognize the beauty as you do. I know this to be true."


  "You're the only beauty I recognize now." 


  "Theo, you’re sweet." Theo is rewarded with an embrace and affectionate kiss. She looks at a Renoir on the wall. 

 

"I think Pierre does a fair likeness." After a few more kisses, "Theo, if I paint,
will you sell them for me?"

"I can't sell Monet and he makes the most calming, likeable visions you
could ever put on a wall." Looking at her, "You know, we’ve talked about
this many times. Bring me something, I’ll look at it, and we’ll see what we
can do. It’s my job. It’s what I do, day in and day out. I can help, just bring
me something to look at."

"Oh, I'm never satisfied with anything I do. …except for one or two, and I
like those so much, I could never sell them… I need more time." Smiling
and kissing Theo again, "…and a studio …would be… nice… too."

"You know I’m doing everything I can to get better accommodations by
June when Vincent comes. He will have a studio and you can use it
whenever he’s not there and he paints outside every day, weather
permitting. It’ll be perfect for you."

       Detail from "Dance at Bougavil", Pierre-Auguste Renoir", 1883


  "What do we do when it rains?"

  "There’s no law that says two people can’t paint in the same room, is there?"

Marie looks at a painting of a skeleton smoking.  "I don't
know.  You say he is harmless?"


"Yes, of course.  That’s just part of his sense of humor.
He's very peaceful.  He was in the clergy for a couple of
years, for God's sake!  All you have to do is not talk to
him about religion, love, or art, and you’ll be fine, you’ll
see, it’ll be perfect! Which brings me around to a favor
I need to ask of you.   My late appointment today was
with Paul Signac.



        "Skeleton with Burning Cigarette",
            Vincent Van Gogh, Antwerp, 1886                                                                                                                   Paul Signac, circa 1888


  He wants to use the apartment at 3, this afternoon, today, to show some paintings to a critic before the next exhibition.  Confidentially. To fully explain their new technique."

 
  Marie has been searching in a drawer for one of Theo’s flannel nightshirts and takes it behind a screen to undress, "Some of the new Pointillist works?"

 
  Theo, watching her with interest, "Yes, undoubtedly. Should be very exciting, but don’t call it Pointillist, they don’t like that term." Smiling, "You know the best part? The money he’s giving me to use the apartment will ensure that we’ll be able to move into the bigger place in June, when this lease expires! But, I need your help to make this happen. I need you to be here tomorrow at noon, when the landlord, Dupree, has his nap, to let the movers in, with the paintings. I have to meet a client at the gallery at 11:30 and don’t think I can get back here in time. It shouldn’t be a problem, all you have to do is let them in. I told him the dimensions of the wall, so that should be fine. I’ll be back as soon as I can. But, they need to be quiet, so Dupree doesn’t know what we’re doing. If he thinks we’re conducting business, he’ll raise the rent; I know he will. You know, he even asked about you the other day? …as if a man can’t have a mistress over once in a while!"

 
  Marie comes out from behind the screen. The nightshirt for Theo is a knee length gown for her, with one bare shoulder. "Your landlord is a bourgeois pig. OK. Strictly hush-hush."

 

  "They should be in and out in no time. …at lunch time. Noon, I told him."

 

  Marie pouts, "Theo?"

 

  Theo smiles, knowing a favor is about to be asked, "Yes?"

 

  "Is it possible I could talk to Monsieur Signac about this new technique, so I can learn more about painting?

 

  "Marie you could charm Monsieur de Paris, the guillotine operator."

 

  "Oh, I don’t think so, but I like to charm you. Please?"

 

  "I’ll do everything I can. Just remember me when you become famous and need a dealer."

 

  "Mais oui, mon cher! You will be my number one dealer!"

 

  They embrace and lay down.

 

  Theo arises shortly after sunup, puts on some pants, washes, sits at his desk and

starts writing.

 

My Dear Vincent.

  It is with warm regards that I enclose 50 francs to use however you see fit. I rented the apartment for a one man show today, at a fair price, and, hereby pass on some of my good fortune to you. Too bad my landlord won’t accept some sort of permanent arrangement of this, as there is money to be made as long as there are so few galleries willing to display Impressionist’s works. The more I think about your arrival here in June, the more I am coming around to it. By then, I will have secured a larger apartment, with a proper studio. I can see where it will be most beneficial for all involved-more on this later.

  Your last group of paintings found there way here with no damage and I believe I can see some improvement in the overall painterly qualities, better than the last lot.

  However, again, I must advise, you must lighten your palette. No one is buying dull, drab, dreary. Please recall what we talked about regards what will sell and what you want to say. There has to be a way of accommodating both. Your thoughts about making the painting come alive when viewed at a distance are very much in line with the Impressionists and, especially, the latest thoughts of Seraut. He will have much to say at the next Impressionist’s exhibition which you will be able to study when you come in June. This, plus the study at Corman’s studio should be just what you need.

  Keep faith in your art. It is with the first step that progress is made.

  With a handshake in thought,

  Theo

  Theo puts the letter in an envelope, finishes dressing, leaves for work.

  Marie is up, but still in Theo’s nightshirt when the manager of the moving crew knocks at the door. She considers putting on more clothes, but it’s a warm day and not necessary. As she opens the door, before she can finish "Bon Jour", she is rendered speechless by the sight of a huge painting being carried by four men.

                                     "Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte", Georges Seurat, 1886, approximately 7 feet by 10 feet 


  "Bon Jour!  Just sign here Madame."  The crew manager is smiling broadly at the sight of an attractive woman. 



  "Oh, My God.  It is huge!"  Marie signs the form.  "Do you think it will fit?"


  With practiced modesty, "As someone who’s been asked that question many times, I can say, if it is at all possible, we will find a way."

  Marie ignores the remark.

  The man, still amused at his cleverness, sticks his head in the doorway.  "Should not be a problem.  After we move the sofa, chair, other paintings against the bed, we’ll just leave the ones on the
 wall where they are and lean it up over them.  They’ll be fine." 

 
  The men come in, move the sofa and chair, put the painting in place. But, their main attention is on Marie as she dresses behind a screen.

 
  Startled when she comes from behind the screen and sees them staring at here, she chides, "Most men are interested when a lady undresses." She is even more taken aback as she recognizes the painting, ‘Sunday Afternoon at the Grand Jatte’. "This is so amazing. I have heard about this. Georges Seraut’s masterpiece."

 

  "Don’t stare at it too long, Madame. Gerard has gone cross-eyed by looking at all the dots!"

Gerard obliges and looks at her cross-eyed.

 

  "Not really, but it makes a good joke, no? Tell me, do you really like this or do you think it is just another trick to sell paintings? …something designed to distract from an obvious lack of talent?"

 

  Marie, fed up with the man’s stupid remarks and still bothered by their ogling, "I don’t know, it’s the first time I’ve seen it. It’s big." Smiling, "I like big. I think we’re supposed to look at it from a distance." Walking toward and opening the door, "Here, look at it from down the hall."

 

  The manager and crew go outside the door and look back in. "Oui, oui, much better. When you step back you don’t see the dots and, Wow! It is really clear!"

 

  "A little farther back." The men step back in unison. "A little farther.  A little farther…" Again, they step back and again, until one of them starts falling down the stairs. With a broad wave of her arm, Marie closes the door. "Bourgeois pigs…"

 

  She walks back to look closer at the painting and its technique. "Monsieur Signac. What can you tell me about this painting?"

 

  Marie washes her face, takes an apple, and leaves the apartment making sure to lock the door behind her.

 

 

  At 12:20 Theo opens the door and is positively gobsmacked by the sight of "Grand Jatte". "Goodness Gracious Lord Who is Almighty!" Inspecting Seurat’s signature, "This is it! The one everyone is talking about. Truly amazing. The colors are…" He stands back as far as he can, but it’s not far enough. He tries to back up even farther by opening the door to look at it from the hallway. When he opens the door Signac is reaching for the knob on the other side. They scare each other.

 

  Theo shouts, "Good Lord… Paul!"

 

  At the same time Signac shouts, "Oh! Bon Jour! Excellent! Perfect! What do you think?"

 

  "I was about to view it at a distance."

 

  They both go from the door to the hallway.

 

  "There. Very impressive! It’s amazing, actually!" Theo is overwhelmed.

 

  "It’s the deliberate separation of component colors to allow the final tone to be mixed in the eye. It creates a much cleaner image in the mind. Can’t you see it?"

 

  "Amazing. Truly Amazing! At a distance you see the color intended, but, in reality, what’s on the canvas are dots of color that would normally be mixed on a palette. The color you see at a distance doesn’t exist on the canvas, but is created in your mind. What do you call it?"

 

  "We don’t have a name for it yet, we prefer to explain it first. …maybe let the some art critic give it a name, like they did for Impressionism."

 

  "Not a bad idea." They come inside the room. Theo looks around, wondering where his apartment and paintings went, "This is just for this afternoon, right?"

 

  "Signac smiles, "Right, right! It’s a one man show just for a certain critic, tonight only!"

 

  "One man show, this is a one painting show! I’ve never seen anything like it."

 

  "No one has. It’s very scientific, you know, not only one has to choose the component colors exactly, but the size of the points of color and how close or far away they are from each other determine how far one needs to be away to see exactly what the artist wants. And, as we are expecting a lot of people to see it at the next Impressionist exhibition, it has to be this big for everyone to see at a distance. Otherwise, only a few people could see the effect, one at a time."

 

  "Too bad my apartment is so small. You have to be outside the door to give it justice."

 

  "I don’t mind, really, makes it that much more dramatic when you first see it when the door is opened."

 

  "You can’t miss it, that’s for sure. You’ll be coming back at 3 this afternoon for the meeting with the critic, right?"

 

  "Oui.  Right.  Now, very importantly, I must have absolute quiet while I explain this to him. I must have his undivided attention so he can fully realize the significance of this. I may even ask you to leave the room to insure that nothing will distract him. Do you understand?"

 

  "Of course, absolute quiet while the critic is here. At some point…" Before Theo could pose the possibility of Marie dropping in, there is a knock at the door.

Upon opening the door a young boy announces, "Message for Monsieur Theo Van Gwah!"

 

  "That’s Van Gogh", says Theo, in his best Dutch pronunciation, correcting the boy.

 

  "Oui, monsieur, Van Gock."

 

  "No! Van Gogh!"

 

  "Whatever you say, monsieur, you have a message." The boy hands Theo a scrap of paper and continues holding out his opened hand, anticipating a tip.  Theo’s eyes quickly scan the note.

 

My Dear Theo,

  Don’t be angry with me for arriving out of the blue. I’ve given it so much thought and I’m sure we’ll gain time this way. Shall be at the Louvre from midday onwards, or earlier if you like.

  Please let me know what time you can get to the Salle Carree. As far as expenses are concerned, I repeat that it won't make much difference.  I still have some money left, of course, and I want to talk to you before spending any of it.

  We’ll sort everything out, you'll see.

  So come as soon as you can.

  I shake your hand.

  Ever yours,

    Vincent

 

  "Oh, No!"

 

  "Bad news, Theo?"

 

  "Oh, Dear God, No…"

 

  "Someone has passed away, unexpectedly?"

 

  "No. Worse! My brother. He’s come early. He’s not supposed to be here until June! He’s at the Louvre and wants me to pick him up as soon as possible. And, this note is hours old."  Theo looks at the boy, "It’s already midday!"  The  boy runs away.  

 

  Signac looks on the positive side of the situation, "Monsieur, this is good news. Family is always welcome. I tell you what, take this 20 francs and take him to La Guinguette for an early dinner. Have a great time!"

 

  "You don’t understand. Vincent can’t be here until June, there isn’t enough room. …my landlord will have a fit. …I have a business appointment at 1. …He doesn’t know about Marie." Theo closes his eyes, overwhelmed, "He doesn’t know about Marie…" Realizing he still needs to talk to Signac about Marie, "Also, uh, Marie, my, uh, mistress …do you mind if she comes to see the painting? She’s got the idea that she wants to be a painter. It would be a great personal favor to me."

 

  Signac accommodates, "Oui, oui. As long as it is before or after the critic is here. He and I must be alone so I can fully explain the significance of this work."

 
  "Thank you, so much.  I must run.  In case I don’t return in time, here’s a key.  I know you’re a man of substance.  I know you’ll be responsible for all my paintings, eh, wherever they are." Theo stops to think for a second and grabs an extra hat and coat.

 

  Signac is puzzled by the extra clothing.

 

  Theo notices Signac’s consternation and, as he is rushing out the door, "My brother is...  Sorry, no time to make a long story short.  I must hurry."

 

 

  This will be Vincent’s third time to live in Paris. The first two times, he was working as an art dealer with the same firm Theo works for now, Goupil & Company. As Theo and Vincent’s uncle Vincent (Cent), their father’s brother, was one of the founders of the business, Vincent would still be working for them except for the fact that as Vincent matured, his taste in art changed and he could no longer be an advocate of the company line. More often than not, he would argue against a customer buying a particular painting, rather than the other way around. His reasoning was, the customer would appreciate and thank him, in the future, for educating them on what art should be. However, as Goupil was like every other gallery at the time, advocating classical realism and putting high price tags on works by traditional artists, there was scarcely anything they had that he could recommend.

  The management at Goupil tried everything, transferring Vincent to offices in London and The Hague, in addition to Paris, all to no avail. He returned home to Holland where it was decided that he should follow in his father’s footsteps and become a member of the clergy. Unfortunately, his idea of what the job should entail again got the better of him. Vincent became radically pious to the point of giving away all his clothes and money, becoming an embarrassment to the church, not to mention, winding up extremely malnourished.

  It is with the same zeal and single-mindedness that Vincent has approached his artwork. Many would say painting is his new religion. This belief is enforced by his outward appearance, which has remained the same, rough and beggarly. When he was with the clergy, Vincent was poor by choice, now, he is poor by circumstance. He has concentrated on peasant life and rural landscapes, subjects that were largely ignored by painters before him. He is seeking to illustrate that there is as much dignity and natural elegance in common people doing manual labor as there is in the most heroic battle scene or the most worshipful biblical tableau. As lofty an ideal as this is, it is equally foolhardy, from the point of making a living. People doing manual labor do not have money to buy artwork. Aside from a few architectural drawings in Amsterdam, which Vincent sold to a relative, he has been unable to sell anything.

 
  This was the first time Vincent had been to the Louvre on a Friday. As there was free admission on Sunday, that was his day of choice. Indeed, he couldn’t remember one Sunday when he hadn’t gone to the Louvre last time he lived here. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was something different about the crowd on this Friday.

 

  As Theo is entering the Salle Carree area, he hears a group of schoolgirls giggling and knows, instinctively, that Vincent can’t be far away.

 

  A lady with an ermine wrap is listening intently to her gentleman companion when her eyes fall upon a pitiful sight. Some goat herder who must’ve delivered fresh meat to the staff’s kitchen apparently has wandered down the wrong corridor, opened the wrong door and was here in the midst of the world’s most beautiful and expensive paintings, studying them with all the concentration the poor soul could muster, while trying, inconspicuously, to find the nearest exit. She points in Vincent’s direction and asks her friend, "What sort of hat do you think that is, on that poor misplaced drover in the Guernsey jacket over there?"

 

  "Looks to be a cross between shepherd and beagle, I’d say".

Theo hears and interjects, "I sincerely believe it is dead tomcat and I’ve been after him for years to bury it in the nearest pet cemetery."

 

  The couple laughs, but can’t make out if Theo is serious, or not.

 

  "Vincent!"

 

  "Theo!"

 

  Polite, but sincere hand shakes and hugs ensue as the brothers have not seen each other since their father died almost a year ago in Nuenen.

 

  "Vincent, you’re a sight for sore eyes! How are you?"

 

  "Well, old man, I’m much the better now from seeing you!"

 

  "Excellent! The trip was satisfactory?"

 

  "Yes, although I did lose my easel, the idiotic fireman thought it was kindling and dashed it in the stove. I tried to rescue it", holding up his slightly scorched sleeve, "But, it was too late. Blasted idiot. Theo has it turned so cold that you need an extra coat and hat?"

 

  "Vincent, we need to talk." The words are spoken in no uncertain terms as Theo ushers Vincent down the hall to an area which has a large trash bin.

 

  As he approaches the couple commenting on Vincent’s appearance, speaking loudly so they can hear, "Vincent, do you think Delacroix with his modern approach to color is able to capture the simple life of the peasants as well as, say, Millet?" Directly to the lady, "He’s in costume. Very eccentric artist."

 

  They reach the bin with Vincent still trying to explain the difference between someone who is eccentric and someone who appreciates the value of money.

 

  "Vincent, you have no right to be here. …here and now. I have no room. I just sent you a letter explaining all this, again. I won’t have space until June."

 

  "Theo, all this is academic. I am here. I am here to stay. It will be beneficial for both of us. Please don’t argue about something that is so obvious and perfectly sensible. Let’s go to the apartment and I’ll show you. It will be fine."

 

  "You don’t know the situation." Looking at his watch again, "Right now, I am almost late for an appointment with a client and there is a meeting in my apartment, in two hours. A meeting that might change the whole course of the appreciation of art. Something that might benefit you and all the Impressionists to make your mark on the world. Something that could be Huge in the Entire History Of Art!"

 

  "Now, this is most intriguing. Something to do with the Impressionists? You’re in the midst of a big sale?"

 

  "No. Nothing like that. But, it is big and, most definitely, requires you to not be there!"

 

  "It requires me to not be there?" Vincent is sorry for the frustration he hears in Theo’s voice, but cannot grasp how his mere presence has the possibility of ruining everything.

 

  "I’ve even been given a Louie to take you to lunch, to ensure privacy, for this meeting. I’ll tell you everything, when we eat and we can figure out what to do with you then, but first, you must start dressing appropriately." He hands his coat and hat to Theo.

 

  Vincent reluctantly takes off his hat and coat and exchanges them with Theo. Looking at the top hat Theo has just handed him, "A bit formal, don’t you think?"

 

  "Not at all. Look around you." There were quite a few of the hats around, but the gentlemen were all wearing suits. Vincent’s working clothes were still out of place. "Uh, just try to make the best of them. We have to start somewhere. "

 

  Theo, unceremoniously, rolls Vincent’s dead cat hat into the Guernsey hide jacket, puts them in the bin and starts walking away, "Come we must hurry."

 

  As they are walking away, Vincent’s mind turns from the future to the present and thoughts of the Impressionists. "In Antwerp, they are saying Manet is the Father of Impressionism, even though he is not one of them. Do you share this viewpoint and if you do, could you tell me why? …or, are there some examples here that demonstrate that he is or isn’t? During his life, I didn’t think much of him, but, after he’s gone, people can’t stop talking about his revolutionary approach to painting. I must say, I’ve only seen a couple of prints of his work, just a couple of portraits, but they didn’t strike me as anything special. Maybe the subject material was more important than his technique?"

 

  Theo looks at Vincent as though Vincent knows where they are going. "It is positively incomprehensible how you do this."

 

  "Do what?"

 

  "You know, every so often, well, more than that, really, often enough to be positively the most impossible thing to understand, is, you say something that’s directly related to something that I know is going to happen, but you wouldn’t have the slightest idea about."

 

  Vincent ponders what Theo has said… "Is this directly related to the some times when I know absolutely nothing about which you’re talking?"

 

  After a slight pause, Theo responds, "In this case, yes, I think so."

 

  After a short time in which Vincent looks at Theo wondering what he could possibly be talking about and Theo looks at Vincent wondering how in God’s name he knew where they are going, both appearing to hope for Divine intervention to each of the questions they had asked the other several times before. Vincent finally breaks the stare that only brothers can have, "Well?"

 

  "It’s another case of you asking me something that is directly related to something we are going to do. Eugene Manet has asked me to stop by his house and give him my opinion on the value of some of his brother’s works. Eugene and his wife, Berthe Morisot, have several of Edouard’s paintings, you know."

 

  "How would I know this?"

 

  "Of course, you wouldn’t! That’s the whole point! Sacra Bleu! We must go! I will tell you everything about Manet and Impressionism in the carriage!"

 

 

  After a quick bite of scones and coffee, Theo and Vincent are led into Berthe Morisot’s studio which was now also serving as a gallery for her brother-in-law’s work. Eugene and Berthe walk along the row of paintings, giving a short description of each while Theo asks questions, trying to get a sense of what the painting is about, if there was anything about the creation of the painting that might add to its value. In the end, Theo would give them a couple of different values, what price his gallery would put on them and how much they might be worth in a few years. Vincent listened to the descriptions then spent a minute or two closely examining each work, then walking a few steps back for another view, until he heard something that would catch his attention about the next painting and he would move up to see what the others were talking about. After the third painting, Berthe, noticing Vincent’s keen interest asks, "What do you think, Vincent?"

 

  Vincent clears his throat.  "Well, Monsieur Manet’s brush stroke is the lightest I have ever seen." Thinking a bit, "He was obviously a student of Delacroix, the way he paints the sea. He handles light extremely well, especially outdoors, something with which I am in a constant state of frustration." Continuing, "Sometimes primitive, I can see how some would say unfinished, but at a distance I see exactly that he, indeed, is conveying a sense of movement, forcing us to see the moment he has chosen to present. And, what he wants us to see gives us something remarkable to think about! His compositions are much considered and designed to imbue the characters with thought, although, the subtly with which he poses them scarcely gives us more than a suggestion as to what their thoughts may be. Very thought provoking and fresh looking." To Theo, "Theo we should, at once, buy them all!"

  Berthe, Eugene and Theo laugh loudly at Vincent’s enthusiasm, but Vincent is not smiling. "I am serious."

 

  "Vincent, you are very generous with Goupil’s money, you know we have only a certain budget within certain styles. We have a large number of customers with many different tastes."

 

  "You must educate the customer."

 

  Theo takes the company’s point of view. "Vincent, we have talked about this many times. Our job is to serve the customers, not tell them what they should buy. The company knows what the customer wants."

 

  "Those gentlemen don’t know their…"

 

  Vincent is stopped by Theo’s forceful words and a slightly raised hand.  "Those gentlemen have been quite generous in the last few years allowing our gallery to be the only one to have an Impressionist display. …to invest in a representative cross-section of the new art. We will have ample opportunity to discuss this later." Getting back to the business at hand, "Now, about this one, do you know if it was painted before or after the similar one by Monet?"

 

  Eugene and Berthe look at each other, not familiar with the Monet painting Theo is talking about.

                    

    
    Vincent's eyes fill with emotion, "This is one of the 
  most powerful anti-war statements I have ever seen."
   

    His soul is touched by the sight of a one-legged
  man hobbling into the scene of a street festooned
  with dozens of French flags in honor of the 14^th 
  of July celebration. 

    Yes, Edouard was most sad about the tremendous
  loss of life in '71.  We were here the whole time, you
  know."

    "No, I didn't know."  Theo replies respectfully.    




                                "Rue Mosnier Decked with Flags", Edouard Manet, 1878

                                                                                                                               

     

      "I'm sure you've heard the stories...  eating animals in the zoo, mass
    executions in the streets."  It is still painful for Eugene to talk about.
             
     
      "The painting by Monet has more and larger flags, a cacophony of red, blue  
    and white, if you will. No crippled man. Just a pleasant painting, nothing to
    think about."

      "Interesting." Berthe reports matter-of-factly. "Monet ran away to London
    ahead of the Prussians. But, we can’t hold that against him. He had such a
    rough time when he was young."

      "Well, this is something for a museum. Would be lovely to get the Monet
    and put them side by side. On the market, maybe a couple hundred Francs…
    really something more suited for public display, at the right time, with the
    right government…" 


                     
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 
                                                                                                                                                                              Festival of June 30,1878,
                                                                                                                                                                                                           Claude Monet, Rue 
                                                                                                                                                                                                           Montorgreil, Paris 
                                                                                                                                                         
      

     Theo focuses on the next painting, "And this?" 


      Berthe responds, "A study for the Bar at Folies."


       "Ah, yes, "A bar at the Folies-Bergere", from
     the Salon of '82.  Don't ever recall seeing this
     study.  It's amazing how different it is from the
     final version.  Must've really had a change of mind
     about it as the concept progressed."

 
      They round a corner.  Theo is shocked to see
    Manet's last masterpiece.  "Oh, my goodness!
    Here is the final painting!"

  
       
      
                Study for "A Bar at the Folies-Bergere", Edouard Manet, 1881 


                                                                                  
         
           "The beautiful young woman whose mind is
          far, far away, on what, we do not know, but, 
          probably, has something to do with the 
          reflection, that's not a reflection, on the 
          right side."  

            

           "Magnificent.  Just magnificent.  Totally in 
          Edouard's style.  Again, would be great to 
          have the study and final pieces together 
        to demonstrate how the painting 
        changed as he went along."          

                
          Vincent, who had been looking at the
        left side of the painting, looks over to the
        right side.  As he sees the man in the
        reflection, he shouts, "Theo, it's you!
        You are the man in the reflection!  This
        is remarkable!  Why didn't you tell me?"
                                                                          
                                                                                                                   
                                                                                                             
                                                                                                        "A Bar at the Folies-Bergere", Edouard Manet, 1882
       
             
   
  Embarrassed over Vincent’s lack of decorum, Theo tries to dissuade Vincent, "Vincent, it’s not me."

  "Don’t be silly. Look! The hat! It’s the very same hat you gave me today!"

  
  "Vincent, these hats were very popular a couple of years ago.  Everyone in Paris has one.
How many did we see at the Louvre today?"  Looking to Berthe and Eugene for help, "Probably
eighty percent of the male population still wears them."  

   
 
           
            Theo Van Gogh, date uncertain

  "All right, but what about your face? Look at you! It’s you, my brother. Why would you be talking to this lady at the Folies-Bergere?"

 

  "Vincent, it’s not, me." Speaking to his hosts, "Do you know anything about this painting?"

 

  Eugene sighs, "There are more questions about this painting than all the others combined. All we know is, we think her name is Suzon and she really was a bartender at the Folies-Bergere. She would come to Edouard’s studio with a body guard, or, maybe, her boyfriend. Whether that’s him in the reflection, we don’t know. We weren’t there when he painted it. You know, there is a resemblance. It could be you, for all we know."

 

  "Please don’t encourage him," pleads Theo.

 

  "The only thing Edouard would ever say about it was, "When one knows, all will know."

 

  "What could that mean? Does that mean one person will be able to tell everyone? …or, somehow everyone will discover what it means at the same time? …and, if that is so, how could everyone know at the same time?" They consider the questions for a moment…

 

  "Come Theo." Vincent breaks the silence. "Tell us. You know you could never lie to me."

 

  Theo grabs Vincent’s shoulders and looks him straight in the eye, "Vincent, if it were me don’t you think I would know what it is all about and I would tell you? I am telling you, I don’t know what it’s about and it’s not me."

 

  Vincent doesn’t know whether to believe Theo, or not. "That’s pretty good, Theo. Maybe it’s just your coat and hat."

 

  "Now that’s possible. I did go to Folies from time to time and I did see Edouard there. Even spoke with him on occasion, as I am an art dealer and he was an artist, right? That is all. Now, again, this should be on public display, if for no other reason, than to see the prophecy fulfilled. As far as the worth, it will be directly related to his reputation. If the Impressionists gain favor, it could become priceless, but, until then, upper end, maybe 800 francs due to it being Edouard’s last major work and the mirror theme. Be a shame to go to a private collector, though. Would you like me to talk to a few museum curators?"

 

  "We already have someone working on it, to see how much interest there is. Good to see you agree." Eugene is pleased Theo is so familiar with Edouard’s work.

 

  They look at three more paintings, all works of flowers. Vincent continues studying "The Bar".

 

  "That’s it then? We must go. …another appointment. No rest for the weary, you know. Come Vincent, we must move on."

 

  "I’d like to come back to take notes, sometime, if that’s possible?" asks Vincent.

 

  "I suppose that would be fine," responds Berthe after Eugene shakes his head in agreement.

  
  Eugene adds, "Just give us two or three days notice, to be sure we’re going to be here."

 

  "Done."

 

  They walk to the door as a houseboy brings Theo and Vincent their hats and coats. Vincent studies his hat so much that Theo has to guide him in the right direction through the door. Theo thanks them for their hospitality; they thank Theo for his professionalism.

 

  "It is you, isn’t it?" Vincent asks one last time.

 

  Theo responds by pushing him into the carriage.

 

  It’s 1:50. Theo’s planned to take Vincent to lunch, but the appointment at Manet’s took less time than expected and he has a feeling something isn’t going right back at the apartment. Although there are many things that still need to be explained to Vincent, Theo’s immediate concern is Signac’s meeting with the critic. As they pull up in front of the building, Theo asks Vincent to wait in the carriage. Vincent complies, wondering what time the Louvre would be closing and why Theo might want to keep the truth from him about the Manet painting.

 

  Theo bounds up the stairs two at a time, hoping all is well, but eager to put things right, if they’re not. He knocks on the door and enters, "Paul, is everything all right?"

 

  "Oui, oui. I just got back from having a bite. Wanted to be here in plenty of time. And, to have some wine and fruit available," pointing to the table.

 

  "Excellent. Very civilized. Now, I should tell you, just in passing, my landlord can be a little, uh, meddlesome. Is it a bit stuffy in here?" Theo walks to the window, raises it and sees Marie coming up the street. He waves at her.

 

  She sees him, smiles with the radiance of the sun and yells, "Theo! Mon cher!"

 
  Theo turns to Signac and explains Marie’s role will be to handle the landlord, just in case. As Marie is entering the building, she feels the stare of someone in a carriage.

 
  Vincent had every intention of remaining in the carriage until Marie addressed Theo as "Mon cher". Theo had always had a lot of friends, especially artists, models and other dealers because, after all, he was a gallery manager of one of the largest art firms in the world. But, as much cajoling, flirting and unconscionable emotional bribery the artists, models and other dealers must have tried on Theo, it struck Vincent as altogether too familiar, the way Marie smiled when she greeted her, "Mon cher." Altogether, too familiar, indeed!

 

  "More secrets, Theo?" Vincent jumps out of the carriage and follows Marie up the stairs.

 

  "Purely precautionary. Just wanted to let you know we have planned for every contingency", Theo attempts to put Signac at ease.

 

  Marie knocks on the door and enters. Giving Theo a kiss, she greets Signac, "Paul Signac, I presume? Monsieur, I am enthralled by this painting and want to know everything about it."

 

  "I would be pleased to tell you everything there is to know. Perhaps later we can…"

 

  Before Signac can finish, a loud voice calls out from just in front of the landlord’s door, "Theo, mon cher, is this why I have to wait in the carriage, to keep me away from your mon cher, that I know nothing about?"

 

  Theo’s general, overall sense of things going splendidly suddenly changes, "Oh, no…"

 

  Marie grimaces.

 

  Vincent shouts again, now in front of the door, "Theo open the door immediately. I demand to know what is…"

 

  Marie opens the door. In a heartbeat, Vincent’s demeanor changes from indignant, brotherly rage to complete bewilderment. As if in church he addresses the huge painting, "Holy Mary, Mother of God..."

 

  Theo quickly drags Vincent inside and closes the door at the same time putting his finger to his lips, whispering, "Shush!"

 

  There is dead silence for about the time it takes someone to put on their shoes, then the steadily increasing sound of the aforementioned shoes coming up the hallway to Theo’s door. The sound stops.

 

  Everyone looks at each other. After a couple of seconds there is a knock at the door.

 

  Again, Theo’s finger goes to his lips.

 

  After a few more seconds of silence, everyone jumps when there is a much louder knock. "Come on. I know you’re there. I saw the door close." The banging is even louder on the door.

 

  Theo inhales, preparing himself for the confrontation, hoping he can talk his way out of the predicament. Opening the door slightly, "Yes, sorry, I was in the middle of something."

 

  "Monsieur Van Gogh, what is going on here?"

 

  "Mr. Dupree, nothing is going on, just having a visit from my brother and," winking at Signac, "…my sister."

 

  "It’s a very loving family you have, Monsieur." Seeing Marie’s face through the door, "I know this one spends the night here at least four times during the week. And, who is this?" Seeing Vincent, answering the question himself, "Her jealous husband?"

 

  Vincent wants no part of this, feels his voice raising, "I, sir, am Theo’s brother and have every right to be here."

 

  The landlord pushes open the door. Looking at Signac, "And, who is this? Another brother?"

 

  Theo, speaks louder as one of his neighbors begins banging on the wall, "Sir, it is midday. I have every right to have guests."

 

  Dupree points at the "Grand Jatte" painting, "And, what is this, new wallpaper?"

 

  Signac is genuinely offended, "That, Monsieur, is a new work of art the likes of which the world has never seen before!"

 

  There is more banging on the wall.

 

  "What’s new about this? It’s size? You charge by the square metre now?"

 

  Signac is too indignant to speak.

 

  Theo responds in the loudest voice he can, over the now-constant banging on the wall, "Now see here, sir. Mr. Dupree, this is art of the most innovative order."

 

  Before Theo can continue, the landlord connects the dots, so to speak, and, finally, yells out the most appropriate questions, "Answer me this, Monsieur Van Gogh, what is this piece of pox prattle doing here? Conducting business in your apartment, Monsieur Van Gogh?"

 

  As everyone is speechless and minds are racing to explain the large painting and accompanying crowd, the sound of the door to the adjoining apartment is heard slamming followed by footsteps, again, coming toward the door. A woman’s voice shouts.

 

  "What in God’s name is going on here?" She comes in through the open door. "What’s going on?" She recognizes Marie as Theo’s semi-permanent guest. "And who is this, some common… trollop?"

 

  Marie, mouth agape, is not so upset that someone would call her a trollop, but would never, under any circumstances, allow herself to be referred to as a "common" anything.

 

  Vincent replies, matter-of-factly, "She’s Theo’s sister."

 

    Everyone starts yelling. All, at the same time.

 

  Marie, to the neighbor, "Trollop? What right do you have to call me a COMMON trollop? You don’t even know me! I suggest you have a sherry and go to bed when the sun goes down like most good, Christian people."

 

  The neighbor, to everyone, "Sister? Not the way they carry on in here at night!"

 

  Dupree, loudly, "Theo, you must explain what this woman and man here are doing, spending the night, and this painting!" To the neighbor, "I’ll take care of this!" Back to Theo, "You know you are expressly forbidden to conduct business. Tell me! What is going on!"

 

  Theo, to the neighbor, shouting, "Madame, you cannot call her a trollop! I have the highest of intentions, something you probably have never been associated with and probably never will, with that attitude."

 

  Signac, shouting loudly, "Please. We must be calm." To the neighbor, "The noise that is keeping you awake at night. Have you tried earplugs? I have a very important meeting and must have ABSOLUTE quiet!"

 

  Neighbor, to Dupree, screaming at the top of her lungs, " You’ll take care of it? This has been going on for months, ever since I moved in. I’m surprised you can’t hear it. It’s the most animalistic caterwauling I’ve ever heard, it is!"

 

  Marie, gasping, letting her have it as loudly as possible, "What? How dare you! I may be a mistress, but I’m not a common trollop and the way I make love is none of your business, you old biddy!"

 

  Dupree, his bass voice booming with authority, at the same time as Marie, "No business! This is most serious! Not to mention you’re keeping your neighbor from the quiet enjoyment of her apartment by your incessant and carnal noises night after night after night, er, not that I’ve heard them myself."

 

  Theo, almost hoarse, to the neighbor, as Signac is trying to restore order, still yelling, "Madame, I do not like what you’re insinuating. My intentions are of the highest order and under no circumstances would I be ever thinking what you are suggesting with my own sister. It's absolutely out of the question!"

 

  Signac, most seriously, but still loudly, to Dupree "No Business! NO BUSINESS! No money is changing hands! Just a very sensitive meeting, that deserves every opportunity… To make sure we are able to get the message across to Monsieur Feneon. We must work this out! It is imperative that we work this out because of the extreme importance of this meeting."

 

  The neighbor, still screaming, in a high, shrill voice, "Oh, Theo! Oh, Theo! Oh, Theo! Over and over again! And grunting, like some wild boar!" To Marie and Theo, "Is that you or him?" To Marie, "An old biddy? I’ll have you know I’ve been married", holding up her right hand with 4 fingers skyward, "Four times and each and every husband was satisfied in every way, but did I keep the neighbors up with Oh, Theo! Oh, Theo! Oh, Theo?"

 

  Theo, to Dupree, still yelling, "And, you sir, to suggest that I am conducting business is ridiculous!"

 

  Dupree, to Theo, "Mind you, haven’t heard the noises myself, always sleep on my good ear, was married 14 years." Again, shouting, "But, you must tell me what is going on here!"

 

  Signac’s and the neighbor’s voices are the loudest of everyone while the neighbor is doing her last ‘Oh, Theo! Oh, Theo! Oh, Theo?’, Signac screams as loud as he possibly can, "AND ABOVE ALL, WE NEED, ABSOLUTE QUIET!"

 

  The neighbor grunts her impression of a wild boar.

 

  Vincent, during the melee, was the only one not yelling and was calmly trying to assure Mr. Dupree that at least one of the
Van Goghs had some sense. "Sir, I am Theo’s brother, I might add, someone who would never have placed my mistress, my
brother, or my client in such a position." He was about to say more, but his attention was diverted forward to the doorway
where someone looking quite perplexed was staring back, still in the hallway, leaning at a 45 degree angle, showing only
the top half of his body, ready to take cover the moment shots were fired.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              

         A loud, guttural sound no self-respecting pig would ever make was the stranger’s cue. 
       As his eyes moved nervously from side to side, "Didn’t anyone get the note?" 


         Signac immediately recognizes the person and greets him, smiling, "Ah, Monsieur
       Feneon.  You’re early!"  He extends his hand and starts walking toward Feneon 
       as the melee starts again.  


         Before they can shake hands, the same, small boy who brought the note from
       Vincent appears in the doorway and yells, "Message for Monsieur Paul Signac."
       

         Everyone watches as Signac accepts the note and reads aloud, "Monsieur Signac,
       I will be an hour early. Sorry for any inconvenience. Regards, Felix Feneon."

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              
                                                                                                                                                           Felix Feneon, art critic and
                                                                                                                                                                                                              Chief Clerk, War Office, circa 1894

 

  Signac starts to reach into his pocket for a coin when Theo, recognizing the boy, yells something unintelligible and runs toward him. The child, knowing he’s in big trouble, quick-as-a-flash, is gone.

 
  As the argument is starting to heat up for the third time, Signac asks Feneon to stay in the hallway for a moment.   Signac brings his wallet out of his coat, pulls out a handful of cash and holds it in his hand, straight over his head. He walks to the unruly crowd, goes up to Dupree and, as calmly as he can, explains, "Monsieur, this is not a business transaction. I am merely demonstrating a new concept in painting to this gentleman in a quiet, peaceful environment so he may have some time to reflect on the importance of this discovery. I’m sure Monsieur Van Gogh had no intention of hiding the fact that his brother is going to be staying here, it is simply a matter that he only found out about it today, so he has had no opportunity, until now, of advising you of the situation. How much extra should the rent be? 50 francs? It’s a very small room. How about 60 francs?"

 

  He holds up 3 bills in front of Dupree’s face which, after about 2 seconds deliberation, are whisked out of his hand, into the landlord’s pocket. Signac continues.

 

  "As for the girl, I’d say she is performing a valuable service for you, at absolutely no charge."

 

  Dupree raises his eyebrows. Signac continues.

 

  "How much would you pay a security service to check on the building in the middle of the night? Marie, when you arrive in the wee hours of the morning, would you report anything unusual you come across, like an open door, a robbery in progress, smoke, fire?"

 

  Marie, in actuality, would report smoke or fire straightaway, but open doors and robberies, would probably require further investigation, as to whether she knew the robber and exactly what they were doing and if there were anything in it for her, but for current purposes, her answer is, "Of course!"

 

  "There you are. Have you, or any of your tenants been robbed in the middle of the night since Theo moved in?"

Dupree, reluctantly, "Well, no."

 

  "There you have it! You should be paying Marie security duty!"

 

  The landlord walks out, but not without stopping in front of Theo, pointing at him and saying, "No business!"

 

  Signac then turns his attention to the neighbor, "Madame, I know for a fact there is a novelty shop on Boulevard Clichy which sells an excellent set of earplugs. Perhaps I can treat you to a pair." Handing her a 10 franc note,

 

  "And, you’re going to be meeting another fine, Dutch gentleman, who has just moved here from…", looking at Vincent questioningly.

 

  Vincent spurts, "Antwerp."

 

  Signac continues, "Antwerp! Belgium! Land of the best imported chocolates! You know, I would wager Monsieur Van Gogh would be happy to bring you some of those most delectable morsels as an offering of good will, a good neighborly gesture of good will, don’t you think?"

 

  Both Theo and Vincent nod their head in agreement.

 

  The neighbor exhales loudly and starts walking down the hall after the landlord, stopping at the doorway, in a determined tone, to Theo, "Dark chocolate. No nuts."

 

  Signac, rubbing his hands together, "Finally, we can get down to business!"

 

  Theo frowns.

 

  "Uh, metaphorically speaking," assures Signac.

 

  Vincent to Theo, "Brother, your friend is a great peacemaker, is he a diplomat? Or, more likely, with all the money, a politician?"

 

  "No, it is Paul Signac, one of the great new, scientific painters with Georges Seurat. Even Pissarro is painting like this now."

 

  "Pissarro?"

 

  "One of the oldest of the Impressionists. Come let me show you the technique."

 

  As Theo and Vincent are studying the gigantic painting up close, Signac and Feneon are getting the view from the hallway. Signac asks the critic, "And, what color is the grass, there?"  And, another question, pointing to another spot, "What would you say about the grass there?"

  "Well, of course, the color, in both cases, is green."

  "And, the intensity, here?"

  "Most intense.  Brilliant.  It obviously has been put on with freshly ground pigment to arrive at such a bright shade of green."

 

  Signac smiles, "Yes, one would think, based on years of experience and knowledge of how colors and pigments are constructed." Escorting the critic to the painting, "Come, let me show you. There, what do you think of this? Here, there is no green at all, only points of yellow and blue.  And, here, there is only the most basic of green present.  But, points of the complimentary color, orange, react with your mind to intensify the green.  In both cases that green that you see from the hall doesn’t come from a pigment on the canvas. It comes from your mind!"

 

  "Very interesting, very, interesting.. An important discovery… But, I’m not sure it has much to do with art. Art is about history and subject matter and having the talent to create a good likeness and composition. How can it be art if you have to be in a certain place to see it correctly? Looking at it from this distance, I wouldn’t say it’s art, just spots on a canvas."

 

  Marie, who’s been listening, feels compelled to jump into the discussion, "Monsieur, have you ever seen anything like this?"

 

  "Are we talking about this painting, or you?"

 

  "The painting. The painting!"

 

  "It is undoubtedly something of interest, but how does it fit into the scheme of things? Certainly not a traditional painting. And, not a technique used by any of the Impressionists…"

 

  Marie, thinking, "Maybe something b e y o n d Impressionism…", stretching the word ‘beyond’ into twice times it’s normal length, for emphasis.

 

  Signac, picking up on Marie’s lead, "Hmm… Beyond Impressionism…"

 

  Feneon’s mind was racing ahead to the words he could use to describe the technique. As is the case with most critics, the opinion he had on something was, many times, based on the cleverness with which he could come up with a description, either pro or con, as much as it was on whether he actually liked something or not.

 

  Theo is listening intently to what is going on. He adds, "Beyond Impressionism, maybe Post Impressionism." Looking at the painting, "Yes, most interesting. Most of the critics and appraisers today haven’t even acknowledged the Impressionists and here, in front of us, is a bona fide example of the next great advance in art. An example of the freshness and vitality, of the pace with which the modern world is advancing."

 

  Signac continues, "Before the masses have been able to comprehend and accept the current concepts, we’re off to the next."

 

  "Oui, oui!" Marie grabs Feneon’s arm and with her other arm points to the ceiling as if reading a giant billboard, "I can see it now. Monsieur Felix Feneon, art critic extraordinaire, discovers the next generation of modern art. As sure as the dots are points of color, they point to the future!"

 

  Feneon is soaking it up, getting more and more full of himself.

 

  Signac senses a convert in the making, "Then you think it is a leap forward? …that all paintings will be like this in the future?"

  Feneon, coming back to earth, "Eh, no… But, it is a worthy project and might make a good review. I must leave now for a political meeting, the reason I had to come early. Would any of you be interested in coming along to the meeting, to help with the struggle of the modern worker against the bourgeois? We will talk more about this painting." Looking at Vincent and Theo, "What about you two?" Looking at Vincent, "You, in particular, by your clothes, you look as if you would have some grievances against the corrupt system of landowners and their lackeys. Together, we may be able to stem the tide of economic subordination of the masses! What say you?"

 
  Vincent is immediately repelled by someone so political. In Vincent’s days as a missionary for the Dutch Reform Church he had prevented more than one strike in the Borinage region, saving lives, stressing the importance of recognizing the oneness of humanity, to do everything he could to break down the barriers between ‘us’ and ‘them’.

  Theo simply thinks it would be bad for business.

 

  The brothers look at each other and shake their head, "No," in unison.

 

  "All right then. Paul, come. Walk with me. Let’s see if we can work out something mutually advantageous for both of us." He puts his arm around Signac and leads him out the door.

 

  Vincent is the first to speak, "What just happened here?"

 

  Theo, "I’m not sure. The discovery of a new art movement? Another conversion to socialism? Or, " grabbing Marie by the waist, "The birth of the world’s greatest saleswoman?" They embrace while Vincent exhales deeply, waiting for an explanation.

 

  Clearing his throat, Theo gives a formal introduction. "Vincent, may I present to you Marie-Clementine Valadon! This is the very same Marie I have written to you about, over the last four years.

 

  "Marie! I thought you left Theo last year, once and for all."

 

  "I have left Theo, once and for all, many times. He will always have a special place in my heart."

 

  Theo, smiling, "As long as she has no other place to go. Vincent, it is complicated. We are old friends now, who love each other in spite of all we have been through."

 

  At first Vincent is pleased to see his brother so happy, but the feeling is quickly overpowered by a growing realization that Theo has been hiding the truth from him.

 

  Theo senses a heated discussion coming on, one he has been avoiding for years.  "Vincent, I promise I will tell you absolutely everything about everything tonight.  But, right now, I am positively famished."

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