Date: ca. July 15, 1888 Medium: Reed pen, quill, and ink over chalk on wove paper (backed with wove paper) Dimensions: Sheet: 9 9/16 x 12 1/2 in. (24.3 x 31.7 cm)   Credit Line: Bequest of Abby Aldrich Rockefeller, 1948  


In the summer of 1888, Van Gogh, who was then living in Arles, made a trip to the small Mediterranean fishing village of Saintes-Maries de la Mer, where he made a painted view of this street with its thatched roofs and smoking chimneys. This drawing was one of fifteen that were sent, in the month of July alone, to Van Gogh’s friend, the artist Émile Bernard, in Brittany, to keep Bernard up to date on the work he was doing. In these vibrant drawings, Van Gogh captured the essence of the paintings while creating the compositions anew in a different medium.
Signatures, Inscriptions, and Markings
Signature: lower left in pen and ink: ‘Vincent’ Marking: touches of black chalk at upper and lower right (apparently attempts to camouflage repairs – to pin holes?) suggest that the ink was much darker at the time the chalk was applied, or it would not appear so much darker now.
Émile Bernard (French, Lille 1868–1941 Paris); Ambroise Vollard (French, 1867–1939); Galerie Druet, Paris; Moderne Galerie Heinrich Thannhauser, Munich, Lucerne, Berlin; M. Goldschmidt; A. Ronde (lived Mainz); Abby Aldrich Rockefeller; Museum of Modern Art, New York; Donor: Abby Aldrich Rockefeller
*************************************************************************************************************   My dear old Bernard, Today I’ve just sent you another 9 croquis after painted studies.1 In this way you’ll see some of the subjects from this nature that inspires père Cézanne. Because La Crau near Aix is roughly the same thing as the surroundings of Tarascon and La Crau here. The Camargue is even simpler, because often there’s nothing left — nothing but poor soil with tamarisk bushes and the coarse kinds of grass that are to these scanty pastures what halfa grass is to the desert. Knowing how much you love Cézanne, I thought these croquis of Provence might please you. Not that there are similarities between a drawing by me and by Cézanne; oh, no, no more than between Monticelli and me — but I too love the region that they have loved so much, and for the same reasons of colour, of logical design. My dear old Bernard — by collaboration2 I didn’t mean that in my view two or more painters should work on the same paintings. 1v:2 By that I meant, rather, works that are divergent but go together and complement each other. Let’s look at the Italian primitives and the German primitives and the Dutch school and the Italians proper, in a word, let’s look at painting in its entirety. Works unintentionally form a ‘group’, a ‘series’. Now then, at present the Impressionists too form a group, in spite of all their disastrous civil wars, in which people on both sides try to get at each others’ throats with a zeal worthy of a better destination and final goal. In our northern school there’s Rembrandt — head of the school — since his influence is felt by anyone who comes close to him. We see, for example, Paulus Potter painting animals rutting and impassioned in landscapes that are also impassioned — in a thunderstorm, in sunshine, in the melancholy of autumn — whereas before knowing Rembrandt this same Paulus Potter was rather dry and meticulous.3 1v:3 There you have two people who go together like brothers, Rembrandt and Potter. And while Rembrandt probably never touched a painting by Potter with his brush, that doesn’t alter the fact that both Potter and Ruisdael owe to him what’s best in them, that something that affects us deeply when we know how to look at a corner of old Holland through their temperament.4 And then there’s the fact that the material difficulties of the painter’s life make collaboration, union among painters, desirable — (just as much as in the days of the guilds of St Luke).5 By safeguarding their material life, by liking each other as pals instead of getting at each others’ throats, painters would be happier and anyway less ridiculous, less foolish and less guilty. However, I don’t insist, knowing that life carries us along so fast that we don’t have the time to discuss and act simultaneously. That’s why 1r:4 at present, while the union exists only very incompletely, we’re sailing on the high seas in our small and wretched boats, isolated on the great waves of our time. Is it renaissance, is it decline? We have no way of judging that, for we’re too close to avoid being led into error by distortions of perspective. For contemporary events, in our eyes, take on proportions that are probably exaggerated as regards our misfortunes and our merits. I shake your hand firmly and hope to have news from you soon. Ever yours, Vincent  

To Emile Bernard. Arles, between Tuesday, 17 and Friday, 20 July 1888

    Drawing, Reed pen and Ink Arles: July – middle of month, 1888 The Metropolitan Museum of Art New York, New York, United States of America, North America F: ;1435, ;JH: ;1506