Review: The Real Van Gogh, Royal Academy

REVIEW
The lighting is low as you enter the main galleries of Burlington House. They will say it is to protect the pigment in the paintings and the raw, sepia ink on the revealing personal letters of Vincent Van Gogh.

But, for me, it is as if low lighting keeps the wild and fidgety colours in their frames; as though, without the restraint of gloom, they would leap from the canvas and spill across floors in an infectious rainbow gush.

For somehow (and this exhibition explores the "somehow" in detail) Van Gogh, through diligence and application, burrowed deep into the unexplored ruffles and folds of the spectrum and emerged with a new colour or a dazzling tone which he would then apply to his canvas with the whirligig exuberance of a successful prospector.

That is one of the themes of the exhibition and the purpose of the letters - to dispel the myth of the ear-slashing lunatic driven solely by passion and torment.

We see the application of a man learning his craft with diligence and humility - indeed some of the sketches are exercises in perspective with the markings still visible.

He writes, mostly to brother Theo, with eloquence and thoughtfulness about his discoveries and how they will apply to his next work (often seen next to the letters).

And on squared paper accompanying his neat, italic hand, he sketches "croquis" - outlines of the piece in preparation which are, in themselves, miniature masterclasses in draughtsmanship.

And, because Theo can't see the colours in these reed pen sketches, Van Gogh tells him, coming alive as he tries to capture the richness and audacity of the palette he has planned.

Of Portrait of A Peasant Girl In Straw Hat (1890) he says: "Big yellow hat with a knot of sky blue ribbons, very red face. Coarse blue blouse with orange spots." Or of L'Arlesienne (1888): "The face grey, the clothing dark, dark, dark just unmixed Prussian blue." Or Cypresses (1899): "The green has such a quality. It's the dark patch in a sun-drenched landscape."

Sometimes his croquis are more prosaic - a sketch of a brush he wants his patron to supply or an easel he is constructing - but all the time he maintains an academic commentary on his prodigious output.

Often his letters attain the status of literature as he roves across his subjects - nature, friendship, religion - creating a self-portrait as compelling as the Self Portrait As An Artist (1888) which watches over this exhibition.

In another he writes: "These canvases will tell you what I can't say in words." It is almost an apology, his message struggling to find an outlet until he finds his stride and then magically there is an explosion of landscapes and portraits and studies. He applies paint like isobars, capturing the storm of energy now his quest has found its true course.

Spontaneity in execution, focus in preparation. This exhibition (sponsored by Wharf bank BNY Mellon) shows both sides of the man and the Royal Academy has worked wonders to bring together 65 paintings, 30 drawings and 35 rarely exhibited letters as evidence.

Curator Ann Dumas has wisely featured letters that contain sketches (as Van Gogh writes in French or Dutch) and has secured some wonderful loans - The Yellow House, Van Gogh's Chair - to tell a tale of a man whose heart may have been darkened with grimy torment but whose soul was bathed in sun-drenched colour.

Mostly this exhibition is an exercise in contrasts. And the contrasts between the perceptions of Van Gogh and his sober reality are as skewed and revealing as his brushstrokes.

- The Real Van Gogh: The Artist And His Letters continues at the Royal Academy Of Arts until April 18. Go to royalacademy.org.uk