Nocturne – Van Gogh at the National Gallery (VIII)

 

Despite being in the painting’s presence numerous times, I had never been able to get close to Starry Night over the Rhône. At its permanent home, the Musée d’Orsay, it was always surrounded by a crowd that was four or five deep; likewise, when it was on show at the Tate Britain a few years ago. No matter, on my fourth visit to the National Gallery Van Gogh exhibition, I spotted my chance and jostled myself into place. 

Van Gogh, Starry Night over the Rhône (1888)

 

The application of the paint, seemingly ad-hoc - but oh so controlled - is a wonder. The tessellated brushstrokes - various lozenges of blue for the sky and river, and yellow and gold for the long reflections of the stars falling onto the water - and then the bold, oil-slick impasto of the riverbank. And those stars - getting your eyes as close as possible to what resemble blobs of dried egg-yolk accidentally spilled onto the canvas. I love that Van Gogh has taken the care to accurately affix the constellation of Ursa Major - or ‘The Plough’ as I was taught as a child - into the painting.

 

Van Gogh, detail of Starry Night over the Rhône (1888)

It is an astonishing piece of art. Painted outdoors under a gas light, it oozes atmosphere. How inviting the city of Arles looks, too: alive, mysterious, magical.  

 

Van Gogh, detail of Starry Night over the Rhône (1888)

And what of the two lovers at the bottom of the frame, rendered almost inconsequential in a vast and unknowable universe? They almost seem like an afterthought. Indeed, they were not in-situ and were invented and placed there by the artist. Doesn’t that show how fleeting life is?