I was already on a "soul cleanse" on a weekend away from the daily grind with some of my best girlfriends, so a visit to the National Gallery seemed like a bonus rinse.
This painting, "Green Wheat Fields, Auvers" by Vincent Van Gogh has only been put on display there since December, and it is stunning. Apparently he painted it in June or July 1890, just before he died - after he'd infamously cut off his ear, and been released from the asylum. The colors light up the room.
It's breathtaking, proving as always, genius and insanity - flip side of the same coin.
Amongst the other Impressionist paintings at the National Gallery, I also fell in love with this one by Henri Matisse: "Odelisque seated with arms raised in green striped chair" painted in 1923. I like the contrasting pattern and colors of the wallpaper and the chair and the curtain, and her relaxed, yet confident pose. Of course I especially love her rounded stomach and fleshy frame too. This beautiful woman, Henriette Darricarriere, was also a painter, and an accomplished musician and dancer (the delicate transparent and embroidered pants are part of a harem costume).
I should also mention, we overheard a pre teenage girl say in passing and glancing at this painting: "Well it's not her fault, they didn't really have razors back then"... I laughed out loud. Funny.
But then, maybe not. Ideals of beauty have changed over time. In this preteen's understanding of current societal ideals, this natural nude is probably far "too hairy and fat" to be considered beautiful.
And ultimately that to me is more than a little sad, not funny at all. Don't you agree?
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