De sterrennacht / The Starry Night - Vincent van Gogh

YK’s 2-Cents: 

Apr 2001

Another low  low point in my life ...  


I know how millions have already written about this popular painting, including the beautiful song 'Vincent' by Don Mclean (see below).


But once I had the chance to see the original painting upfront at MOMA - The Museum of Modern Art - at New York City, I was immediately drawn into the painting by the swirling clouds, the blazing stars.  I felt an instant bonding, and it was really difficult trying to refrain from touching it.  


Despite the hard times, the beauty expressed by Van Gogh in this painting had filled my heart with so much hope and happiness, that life is somehow worth living again.

The MOMA gallery excerpt:

"This morning I saw the country from my window a long time before sunrise," the artist wrote to his brother Theo, "with nothing but the morning star, which looked very big." Rooted in imagination and memory, The Starry Night embodies an inner, subjective expression of van Gogh's response to nature. In thick sweeping brushstrokes, a flamelike cypress unites the churning sky and the quiet village below. The village was partly invented, and the church spire evokes van Gogh's native land, the Netherlands.

Vincent van Gogh

Dutch, 1853-1890

The Starry Night, Saint Rémy, June 1889

Oil on canvas, 29 x 36 1/4" (73.7 x 92.1 cm).

Acquired through the Lillie P. Bliss Bequest

Publication excerpt from The Museum of Modern Art, MoMA Highlights, New York: The Museum of Modern Art, revised 2004, originally published 1999, p. 35:

Van Gogh's night sky is a field of roiling energy. Below the exploding stars, the village is a place of quiet order. Connecting earth and sky is the flamelike cypress, a tree traditionally associated with graveyards and mourning. But death was not ominous for van Gogh. "Looking at the stars always makes me dream," he said, "Why, I ask myself, shouldn't the shining dots of the sky be as accessible as the black dots on the map of France? Just as we take the train to get to Tarascon or Rouen, we take death to reach a star."

The artist wrote of his experience to his brother Theo: "This morning I saw the country from my window a long time before sunrise, with nothing but the morning star, which looked very big." This morning star, or Venus, may be the large white star just left of center in The Starry Night. The hamlet, on the other hand, is invented, and the church spire evokes van Gogh's native land, the Netherlands. The painting, like its daytime companion, The Olive Trees, is rooted in imagination and memory. Leaving behind the Impressionist doctrine of truth to nature in favor of restless feeling and intense color, as in this highly charged picture, van Gogh made his work a touchstone for all subsequent Expressionist painting.

Aug 2011

Thanks to the very commendable Google Art Project, I can transport myself to this painting in MOMA anytime.

'Vincent' by Don Mclean

Starry, starry night
Paint your palette blue and gray
Look out on a summer's day
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul...
Shadows on the hills
Sketch the trees and the daffodils
Catch the breeze and the winter chills
In colors on the snowy linen land.

Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen; they did not know how --
Perhaps they'll listen now.

Starry, starry night
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze
Swirling clouds in violet haze
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue
Colors changing hue
Morning fields of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.

Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen; they did not know how --
Perhaps they'll listen now.

For they could not love you
But still, your love was true
And when no hope was left inside
On that starry, starry night
You took your life as lovers often do --
But I could've told you, Vincent:
This world was never meant
For one as beautiful as you.

Starry, Starry night
Portraits hung in empty halls
Frameless heads on nameless walls
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget
Like the strangers that you've met
The ragged men in ragged clothes
The silver thorn, a bloody rose
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.

Now I think I know
What you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen; they're not listening still --
Perhaps they never will... 

I dedicate this post to the dear 'kawan' - indeed a friend-in-need, who offer me refuge for 2 most unforgettable weekends in Manhattan.