It was the last stop for the day. My recollection of my 2003 visit here was driving through Roman and Greek ruins which are the iconic landmarks of this ancient town. Think Julius Caesar. But we didn’t come here for these archaeological sites. Nor did we visit because it’s the birthplace of Nostradamus. We came for Van Gogh. That genius of a man had himself admitted in Saint-Paul de Mausole’s psychiatric institution as he sensed his mental health deteriorating despite the hospital treatment he was getting in Arles. Arles and Saint-Rémy-de-Provence are nearby towns not too far from Avignon and Vincent stayed in the monastery cum psychiatric clinic here for a good one year.
While he only stayed a year here, his 150 or so paintings are among the popular pieces spread and displayed in prominent museums all over the art world. His lonely and desolate rooms were painted on canvas — the bed, the chair, the window, the landscapes and blooms viewed from the window. Since he stayed a year, his works captured the seasonal changes including the mistral as well as the dry spells brought in by the Provençal summers. The farms, the peasants, the flowers and trees — all these were reflected on the 150 inspired works of art. Walking around Van Gogh Avenue, there would be repros of Vincent’s artworks against a backdrop of the actual scenes. One can say Van Gogh simply never stopped painting. Whether art was his therapy or not, it certainly occupied his mind 24/7.
The monastery garden and courtyard provide enough inspiration. Very beautifully laid out. Amidst arcades, fountains and beds of flowers, one feels compelled to sit for a few moments and space out. The gardens behind the monastery can be viewed from Van Gogh’s room and studio, so it is easy to imagine how the blooms change with the seasons. More so how the landscapes changed as viewed day or night. A pity we were a couple of weeks early till the lavenders fully bloom. That must be a pretty sight. The flowers were just starting to sprout when we visited but we can already sense a faint smell of the soothing buds.
Our driver guide gave us enough time to linger. We made a second pass of the artist’s quarters and the back gardens before settling down in the courtyard. Seeing my nieta open her sketchbook and watercolours, I gingerly turned back towards the museum shop. Heaved a sigh of relief that the weather cooperated so we can enjoy the sunlight rather than the forecast of showers and gray skies. While loitering around gardens, I spotted a young man with an easel seemingly looking for a quiet corner. His search ended with a good spot amidst the arcaded passageways between columns but a perfect view of the courtyard bathed in sunlight. Bless these artists for cheering us up with their creations!
lifeisacelebration 