| mm: |
Was it Autumn. . . |
| pg: |
It was in October |
| mm: |
How could you know. . . |
| pg: |
You were going to ask
About Vincent’s dream of
bringing all of
The artists together
under one roof. |
| mm: |
An interesting metaphor but you
Cannot obsess enough to see all art
In yourself. |
| pg: |
I would have been the first and
Van
Gogh’s obsessiveness in favor of
His
ideals made me seem reasonable. |
| mm: |
What would have made you even want to
try? |
| pg: |
What would now make you think you
understand
Enough of our motivations to
see
What drove us? It was many years
ago
And you can only look though younger
eyes. |
| mm: |
I can’t think that and wouldn’t dare to
try,
But I can understand you here and
now. |
| pg: |
Yellow. |
| mm: |
Yellow? |
| pg: |
And that is all there is. |
| mm: |
Of course, the house you lived in was
yellow. |
| pg: |
Fittingly enough for "the yellow
house";
The house was yellow, the sun was
yellow,
The flowers were yellow in many
shades.
He took yellow in through
reflective eyes,
His brain ran it through
his thin body like
It was something to be
consumed like wine,
Bread, something not
easily done without.
Vincent digested
yellow, did not think
About it, but
comprehended it, and
Managed to apply
yellow to canvas;
Not pigment in some
pale mockery of
Color, but yellow
itself. |
| mm: |
Is that why
Amongst his subjects you loved sunflowers
Most of
all? |
| pg: |
I loved nothing more than Vincent
himself. |
| mm: |
Yet you refused to let him paint you.
Why? |
| pg: |
I managed to paint portraits of
myself
Which might widely be considered
as "good,"
At least as far as others know
the term.
Art is best, you see, when it
captures truth,
Rattles its cage, enrages
it, causes the truth
To reveal new
aspects of its nature,
Creating a new
truth out of what was
Thought to be
absolute. What would it say
Of Gauguin if
another could see more
Truth in his
features than Gauguin could see? |
| mm: |
What did Gauguin see in Van Gogh's features? |
| pg: |
I saw not nearly enough to be sure
That
yellow would be enough to save him. |
| mm: |
Surely you are a master of color? |
| pg: |
Is that what I am? Interesting how
Descendents view their fathers. I saw
hues,
Did not attempt to recreate them,
but
Filtered them through my
understanding and
Tried to paint with my
thoughts, not the colors. |
| mm: |
Yellow was your filtered view of Vincent? |
| pg: |
Yellow was, yes. I wish I had seen more
Than yellow
that night. |
| mm: |
Which night do you mean? |
| pg: |
(Gauguin shakes his head, laughs, doesn’t
answer) |
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