Wheat Fields
I am not trained to appreciate classic arts. From a layman's point, I like paintings that show a balanced and harmonious blend of color and shapes. So when I went to see a collection of master pieces by Picasso, Van Gogh, Monet, Renoir and many other modern artists, my eyes naturally set on those with natural appeals.
I was awed by Renoir's Boating Party. I stood in front of the painting for a long time. The whole picture is like a movie, a show, so lively depicted that I felt like I could hear the people talking, glass and china wear clinking, and I could swear I saw them moving.
Then I set my eyes on Van Gogh's Wheat Fields at Auvers with House. There were several other Van Gogh's paintings in the museum, and this one may not be his best work, but it nailed my eye. If you walk close to it, you could see the strokes, with so much forces, as if the colors were thrown to the canvas, with such urgency, as if this would be the final chance to catch the view, to let out the fierce and passion that could kill if not released.
Many years ago, I read Irving Stone's biography of Van Gogh. In one of his letters to his brother Theo, Van Gogh said "Love many things, for therein lies the true strength, and whosoever loves much performs much, and can accomplish much, and what is done in love is done well." He saw beauty and poetry in everything, even "ragged men in ragged clothes".
The wheat field was what he could see from his room during his last confinement.
I was awed by Renoir's Boating Party. I stood in front of the painting for a long time. The whole picture is like a movie, a show, so lively depicted that I felt like I could hear the people talking, glass and china wear clinking, and I could swear I saw them moving.
Then I set my eyes on Van Gogh's Wheat Fields at Auvers with House. There were several other Van Gogh's paintings in the museum, and this one may not be his best work, but it nailed my eye. If you walk close to it, you could see the strokes, with so much forces, as if the colors were thrown to the canvas, with such urgency, as if this would be the final chance to catch the view, to let out the fierce and passion that could kill if not released.
Many years ago, I read Irving Stone's biography of Van Gogh. In one of his letters to his brother Theo, Van Gogh said "Love many things, for therein lies the true strength, and whosoever loves much performs much, and can accomplish much, and what is done in love is done well." He saw beauty and poetry in everything, even "ragged men in ragged clothes".
The wheat field was what he could see from his room during his last confinement.
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