"Reflect in Vincent's eyes of China Blue..."
I vividly remember the first time i was really
grasped and
moved by a painting.
I was 15, and had spent the summer hitchhiking in France with my brother. He wanted to lap up all of the artistic delights that France had to offer, and he didn't want to do so alone. Being the only available compadre for such a venture, and despite being six years his junior, he took me along,
Adventure! I was totally up for that!
Walking round the subsequent interminable Art Collections of France was not quite so much fun - the hitching interludes were great, truly it was better to travel hopefully than to arrive.
Until Paris.
Back then, if you remember, the Louvre still held the entire State collection -- the Impressionist, Post-Impressionist and Modernist stuff was housed in the Jeu de Paume and L'Orangerie.( the Orangerie had Monet's big 'Waterlillies'and some of Picasso's stuff) - now moved to the Musee D'Orsay.. After the airy wind-baggery of the Louvre Palace, the Jeu de Paume was tight and twisty, small rooms, narrow corridors, all of that sort of contrast.
Then, after a series of small rooms divided by narrow passageways, another. Into which small room, through another narrow corridor you are faced IN YOUR FACE with -
- Vincent's eyes of Blue. His staring eyes of Blue, his coat of Blue, his swirling background and foreground of Blue. And then the rest of him that isn't
I can still feel that feeling whenever i want to.