When Jo van Gogh-Bonger finally sold 200 paintings and 50 drawings by her brother-in-law to the Dutch government for seven million euros, she considered the deal a good one. History might challenge her decision; to date, Vincent van Gogh’s most expensive work fetched over 77 million euros ($83 million) at market.
When her husband, Theo, died just six months after his brother Vincent, Jo was left a young widow. Though she remarried, she retained her first husband’s commitment to promoting the artist, acknowledging how important it was that as many people as possible see his work. Jo’s tireless work and dedication saw Vincent finally gain recognition after his death and kept much of his collection together.
Choosing Vincent promises a Portrait of a Family History, but at its best, it is a quiet testament to the women who make the great men of history. (Vincent’s mother, Anna, also instilled within her children a love of nature and drawing.) The important context comes outside the gallery walls. In the shop, Hans Luijten’s instructive book, Jo van Gogh-Bonger: The Woman who Made van Gogh Famous, is now available in translation.
Inside the exhibition, childhood letters, prints, and illustrations abound. In ‘Reminiscence’, we see Vincent’s nostalgia for his childhood in the Netherlands, as recalled years later (and thousands of kilometres away) in the south of France. Archive photographs open each section, each dedicated to the work of a different van Gogh, to the present, reflecting the artist’s own devotion to his family during his lifetime.
Through Theo, we appreciate the brothers’ mutual love of art, and each other. The brothers could only afford the prints of Édouard Manet but expanded their collection through artistic exchange with contemporaries like Émile Bernard, Meijer de Haan, and John Russell.
Their filial relationship is, to be expected, this exhibition’s core. Behind ‘Quinces, Lemons, Pears and Grapes’ (1887) lies the inscription ‘to my brother’; further back, it is implied in their shared interests in the arts of Paul Cézanne and Japan, though neither are mentioned.
Jo would never sell Vincent’s ‘Fountain in the Garden of the Asylum’ (1889), as it was Theo’s favourite work. And as the name suggests, Choosing Vincent dwells as much upon individual decision-making. The curation is tactile, interactive, and accessible for children – but raises troubling questions about an artist who is already controversially curated. Viewers follow a timeline on the floor and are asked to take his life decisions for themselves. But much of it is too simple, tending towards a ‘fun facts’ history of the artist. Who are we to take part in his life, to pass judgements on (often minor) decisions that have already been made?
These searching questions work better with respect to those decisions made after his death in 1890, by those managing his estate. ‘What if Jo had never published the letters because she considered them too personal? Would Vincent have become as famous if we knew less about his struggles, dreams and ideas?’
In 1914, Jo did publish the artist’s letters, a mammoth task set by her dying husband Theo. The compilation would be instrumental to the construction of the myth of the artist, and international status in art history – including some lingering negative tropes concerning the mental health of the ‘tortured artist’.
The final rooms focus on the other Vincent van Gogh - his nephew, Theo and Jo’s son. ‘Engineer Vincent’, named after his uncle, first pursued his own path before taking a more active role in the estate from the 1940s. (Increasingly interventionist, engineer Vincent suggested grey walls, natural lighting, and simple frames.)
Almond Blossoms (1888-1890), a series first painted for the artist’s nephew, would ‘overlook pillow fights’ in various van Gogh family bedrooms. Read in the light of the day, these warm personal details seem like remarkable privileges. Endless poster reproductions of ‘Almond Blossoms’ now adorn university halls; here, we see the original ‘Seascape’ which hung in engineer Vincent’s student digs in Delft.
The estate stopped selling van Gogh in the 1920s. Some works were kept on permanent loan to the Stedelijk Museum, where Jo organised the first van Gogh exhibition in 1905. Engineer Vincent played a crucial role in protecting the collection during World War II, finding a suitable bunker near Castricum. In 1960, he established the Vincent Van Gogh Foundation, to which he transferred the entire estate two years later, in a reciprocal agreement with the Dutch government to build the eponymous museum.
Choosing Vincent concludes with another set of decisions; how to hang the paintings of the newly opened Van Gogh Museum. Documentary films show how paper substitutes were used to determine the placement of the (manhandled!) works, a collection which still stands at around 230 paintings and 500 drawings.
When it opened fifty years ago, the Museum hoped to welcome one million visitors a year. It doubled that number in 2019, the last before the COVID pandemic. Whether and how it survives will depend on the continued reassessment - and expansion – of its permanent collection in new lights.
Choosing Vincent: Portrait of a Family History is on show at the Van Gogh Museum until 10 April 2023.
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
When Jo van Gogh-Bonger finally sold 200 paintings and 50 drawings by her brother-in-law to the Dutch government for seven million euros, she considered the deal a good one. History might challenge her decision; to date, Vincent van Gogh’s most expensive work fetched over 77 million euros ($83 million) at market.
When her husband, Theo, died just six months after his brother Vincent, Jo was left a young widow. Though she remarried, she retained her first husband’s commitment to promoting the artist, acknowledging how important it was that as many people as possible see his work. Jo’s tireless work and dedication saw Vincent finally gain recognition after his death and kept much of his collection together.
Choosing Vincent promises a Portrait of a Family History, but at its best, it is a quiet testament to the women who make the great men of history. (Vincent’s mother, Anna, also instilled within her children a love of nature and drawing.) The important context comes outside the gallery walls. In the shop, Hans Luijten’s instructive book, Jo van Gogh-Bonger: The Woman who Made van Gogh Famous, is now available in translation.
Inside the exhibition, childhood letters, prints, and illustrations abound. In ‘Reminiscence’, we see Vincent’s nostalgia for his childhood in the Netherlands, as recalled years later (and thousands of kilometres away) in the south of France. Archive photographs open each section, each dedicated to the work of a different van Gogh, to the present, reflecting the artist’s own devotion to his family during his lifetime.
Through Theo, we appreciate the brothers’ mutual love of art, and each other. The brothers could only afford the prints of Édouard Manet but expanded their collection through artistic exchange with contemporaries like Émile Bernard, Meijer de Haan, and John Russell.
Their filial relationship is, to be expected, this exhibition’s core. Behind ‘Quinces, Lemons, Pears and Grapes’ (1887) lies the inscription ‘to my brother’; further back, it is implied in their shared interests in the arts of Paul Cézanne and Japan, though neither are mentioned.
Jo would never sell Vincent’s ‘Fountain in the Garden of the Asylum’ (1889), as it was Theo’s favourite work. And as the name suggests, Choosing Vincent dwells as much upon individual decision-making. The curation is tactile, interactive, and accessible for children – but raises troubling questions about an artist who is already controversially curated. Viewers follow a timeline on the floor and are asked to take his life decisions for themselves. But much of it is too simple, tending towards a ‘fun facts’ history of the artist. Who are we to take part in his life, to pass judgements on (often minor) decisions that have already been made?
These searching questions work better with respect to those decisions made after his death in 1890, by those managing his estate. ‘What if Jo had never published the letters because she considered them too personal? Would Vincent have become as famous if we knew less about his struggles, dreams and ideas?’
In 1914, Jo did publish the artist’s letters, a mammoth task set by her dying husband Theo. The compilation would be instrumental to the construction of the myth of the artist, and international status in art history – including some lingering negative tropes concerning the mental health of the ‘tortured artist’.
The final rooms focus on the other Vincent van Gogh - his nephew, Theo and Jo’s son. ‘Engineer Vincent’, named after his uncle, first pursued his own path before taking a more active role in the estate from the 1940s. (Increasingly interventionist, engineer Vincent suggested grey walls, natural lighting, and simple frames.)
Almond Blossoms (1888-1890), a series first painted for the artist’s nephew, would ‘overlook pillow fights’ in various van Gogh family bedrooms. Read in the light of the day, these warm personal details seem like remarkable privileges. Endless poster reproductions of ‘Almond Blossoms’ now adorn university halls; here, we see the original ‘Seascape’ which hung in engineer Vincent’s student digs in Delft.
The estate stopped selling van Gogh in the 1920s. Some works were kept on permanent loan to the Stedelijk Museum, where Jo organised the first van Gogh exhibition in 1905. Engineer Vincent played a crucial role in protecting the collection during World War II, finding a suitable bunker near Castricum. In 1960, he established the Vincent Van Gogh Foundation, to which he transferred the entire estate two years later, in a reciprocal agreement with the Dutch government to build the eponymous museum.
Choosing Vincent concludes with another set of decisions; how to hang the paintings of the newly opened Van Gogh Museum. Documentary films show how paper substitutes were used to determine the placement of the (manhandled!) works, a collection which still stands at around 230 paintings and 500 drawings.
When it opened fifty years ago, the Museum hoped to welcome one million visitors a year. It doubled that number in 2019, the last before the COVID pandemic. Whether and how it survives will depend on the continued reassessment - and expansion – of its permanent collection in new lights.
Choosing Vincent: Portrait of a Family History is on show at the Van Gogh Museum until 10 April 2023.
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
When Jo van Gogh-Bonger finally sold 200 paintings and 50 drawings by her brother-in-law to the Dutch government for seven million euros, she considered the deal a good one. History might challenge her decision; to date, Vincent van Gogh’s most expensive work fetched over 77 million euros ($83 million) at market.
When her husband, Theo, died just six months after his brother Vincent, Jo was left a young widow. Though she remarried, she retained her first husband’s commitment to promoting the artist, acknowledging how important it was that as many people as possible see his work. Jo’s tireless work and dedication saw Vincent finally gain recognition after his death and kept much of his collection together.
Choosing Vincent promises a Portrait of a Family History, but at its best, it is a quiet testament to the women who make the great men of history. (Vincent’s mother, Anna, also instilled within her children a love of nature and drawing.) The important context comes outside the gallery walls. In the shop, Hans Luijten’s instructive book, Jo van Gogh-Bonger: The Woman who Made van Gogh Famous, is now available in translation.
Inside the exhibition, childhood letters, prints, and illustrations abound. In ‘Reminiscence’, we see Vincent’s nostalgia for his childhood in the Netherlands, as recalled years later (and thousands of kilometres away) in the south of France. Archive photographs open each section, each dedicated to the work of a different van Gogh, to the present, reflecting the artist’s own devotion to his family during his lifetime.
Through Theo, we appreciate the brothers’ mutual love of art, and each other. The brothers could only afford the prints of Édouard Manet but expanded their collection through artistic exchange with contemporaries like Émile Bernard, Meijer de Haan, and John Russell.
Their filial relationship is, to be expected, this exhibition’s core. Behind ‘Quinces, Lemons, Pears and Grapes’ (1887) lies the inscription ‘to my brother’; further back, it is implied in their shared interests in the arts of Paul Cézanne and Japan, though neither are mentioned.
Jo would never sell Vincent’s ‘Fountain in the Garden of the Asylum’ (1889), as it was Theo’s favourite work. And as the name suggests, Choosing Vincent dwells as much upon individual decision-making. The curation is tactile, interactive, and accessible for children – but raises troubling questions about an artist who is already controversially curated. Viewers follow a timeline on the floor and are asked to take his life decisions for themselves. But much of it is too simple, tending towards a ‘fun facts’ history of the artist. Who are we to take part in his life, to pass judgements on (often minor) decisions that have already been made?
These searching questions work better with respect to those decisions made after his death in 1890, by those managing his estate. ‘What if Jo had never published the letters because she considered them too personal? Would Vincent have become as famous if we knew less about his struggles, dreams and ideas?’
In 1914, Jo did publish the artist’s letters, a mammoth task set by her dying husband Theo. The compilation would be instrumental to the construction of the myth of the artist, and international status in art history – including some lingering negative tropes concerning the mental health of the ‘tortured artist’.
The final rooms focus on the other Vincent van Gogh - his nephew, Theo and Jo’s son. ‘Engineer Vincent’, named after his uncle, first pursued his own path before taking a more active role in the estate from the 1940s. (Increasingly interventionist, engineer Vincent suggested grey walls, natural lighting, and simple frames.)
Almond Blossoms (1888-1890), a series first painted for the artist’s nephew, would ‘overlook pillow fights’ in various van Gogh family bedrooms. Read in the light of the day, these warm personal details seem like remarkable privileges. Endless poster reproductions of ‘Almond Blossoms’ now adorn university halls; here, we see the original ‘Seascape’ which hung in engineer Vincent’s student digs in Delft.
The estate stopped selling van Gogh in the 1920s. Some works were kept on permanent loan to the Stedelijk Museum, where Jo organised the first van Gogh exhibition in 1905. Engineer Vincent played a crucial role in protecting the collection during World War II, finding a suitable bunker near Castricum. In 1960, he established the Vincent Van Gogh Foundation, to which he transferred the entire estate two years later, in a reciprocal agreement with the Dutch government to build the eponymous museum.
Choosing Vincent concludes with another set of decisions; how to hang the paintings of the newly opened Van Gogh Museum. Documentary films show how paper substitutes were used to determine the placement of the (manhandled!) works, a collection which still stands at around 230 paintings and 500 drawings.
When it opened fifty years ago, the Museum hoped to welcome one million visitors a year. It doubled that number in 2019, the last before the COVID pandemic. Whether and how it survives will depend on the continued reassessment - and expansion – of its permanent collection in new lights.
Choosing Vincent: Portrait of a Family History is on show at the Van Gogh Museum until 10 April 2023.
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
When Jo van Gogh-Bonger finally sold 200 paintings and 50 drawings by her brother-in-law to the Dutch government for seven million euros, she considered the deal a good one. History might challenge her decision; to date, Vincent van Gogh’s most expensive work fetched over 77 million euros ($83 million) at market.
When her husband, Theo, died just six months after his brother Vincent, Jo was left a young widow. Though she remarried, she retained her first husband’s commitment to promoting the artist, acknowledging how important it was that as many people as possible see his work. Jo’s tireless work and dedication saw Vincent finally gain recognition after his death and kept much of his collection together.
Choosing Vincent promises a Portrait of a Family History, but at its best, it is a quiet testament to the women who make the great men of history. (Vincent’s mother, Anna, also instilled within her children a love of nature and drawing.) The important context comes outside the gallery walls. In the shop, Hans Luijten’s instructive book, Jo van Gogh-Bonger: The Woman who Made van Gogh Famous, is now available in translation.
Inside the exhibition, childhood letters, prints, and illustrations abound. In ‘Reminiscence’, we see Vincent’s nostalgia for his childhood in the Netherlands, as recalled years later (and thousands of kilometres away) in the south of France. Archive photographs open each section, each dedicated to the work of a different van Gogh, to the present, reflecting the artist’s own devotion to his family during his lifetime.
Through Theo, we appreciate the brothers’ mutual love of art, and each other. The brothers could only afford the prints of Édouard Manet but expanded their collection through artistic exchange with contemporaries like Émile Bernard, Meijer de Haan, and John Russell.
Their filial relationship is, to be expected, this exhibition’s core. Behind ‘Quinces, Lemons, Pears and Grapes’ (1887) lies the inscription ‘to my brother’; further back, it is implied in their shared interests in the arts of Paul Cézanne and Japan, though neither are mentioned.
Jo would never sell Vincent’s ‘Fountain in the Garden of the Asylum’ (1889), as it was Theo’s favourite work. And as the name suggests, Choosing Vincent dwells as much upon individual decision-making. The curation is tactile, interactive, and accessible for children – but raises troubling questions about an artist who is already controversially curated. Viewers follow a timeline on the floor and are asked to take his life decisions for themselves. But much of it is too simple, tending towards a ‘fun facts’ history of the artist. Who are we to take part in his life, to pass judgements on (often minor) decisions that have already been made?
These searching questions work better with respect to those decisions made after his death in 1890, by those managing his estate. ‘What if Jo had never published the letters because she considered them too personal? Would Vincent have become as famous if we knew less about his struggles, dreams and ideas?’
In 1914, Jo did publish the artist’s letters, a mammoth task set by her dying husband Theo. The compilation would be instrumental to the construction of the myth of the artist, and international status in art history – including some lingering negative tropes concerning the mental health of the ‘tortured artist’.
The final rooms focus on the other Vincent van Gogh - his nephew, Theo and Jo’s son. ‘Engineer Vincent’, named after his uncle, first pursued his own path before taking a more active role in the estate from the 1940s. (Increasingly interventionist, engineer Vincent suggested grey walls, natural lighting, and simple frames.)
Almond Blossoms (1888-1890), a series first painted for the artist’s nephew, would ‘overlook pillow fights’ in various van Gogh family bedrooms. Read in the light of the day, these warm personal details seem like remarkable privileges. Endless poster reproductions of ‘Almond Blossoms’ now adorn university halls; here, we see the original ‘Seascape’ which hung in engineer Vincent’s student digs in Delft.
The estate stopped selling van Gogh in the 1920s. Some works were kept on permanent loan to the Stedelijk Museum, where Jo organised the first van Gogh exhibition in 1905. Engineer Vincent played a crucial role in protecting the collection during World War II, finding a suitable bunker near Castricum. In 1960, he established the Vincent Van Gogh Foundation, to which he transferred the entire estate two years later, in a reciprocal agreement with the Dutch government to build the eponymous museum.
Choosing Vincent concludes with another set of decisions; how to hang the paintings of the newly opened Van Gogh Museum. Documentary films show how paper substitutes were used to determine the placement of the (manhandled!) works, a collection which still stands at around 230 paintings and 500 drawings.
When it opened fifty years ago, the Museum hoped to welcome one million visitors a year. It doubled that number in 2019, the last before the COVID pandemic. Whether and how it survives will depend on the continued reassessment - and expansion – of its permanent collection in new lights.
Choosing Vincent: Portrait of a Family History is on show at the Van Gogh Museum until 10 April 2023.
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
When Jo van Gogh-Bonger finally sold 200 paintings and 50 drawings by her brother-in-law to the Dutch government for seven million euros, she considered the deal a good one. History might challenge her decision; to date, Vincent van Gogh’s most expensive work fetched over 77 million euros ($83 million) at market.
When her husband, Theo, died just six months after his brother Vincent, Jo was left a young widow. Though she remarried, she retained her first husband’s commitment to promoting the artist, acknowledging how important it was that as many people as possible see his work. Jo’s tireless work and dedication saw Vincent finally gain recognition after his death and kept much of his collection together.
Choosing Vincent promises a Portrait of a Family History, but at its best, it is a quiet testament to the women who make the great men of history. (Vincent’s mother, Anna, also instilled within her children a love of nature and drawing.) The important context comes outside the gallery walls. In the shop, Hans Luijten’s instructive book, Jo van Gogh-Bonger: The Woman who Made van Gogh Famous, is now available in translation.
Inside the exhibition, childhood letters, prints, and illustrations abound. In ‘Reminiscence’, we see Vincent’s nostalgia for his childhood in the Netherlands, as recalled years later (and thousands of kilometres away) in the south of France. Archive photographs open each section, each dedicated to the work of a different van Gogh, to the present, reflecting the artist’s own devotion to his family during his lifetime.
Through Theo, we appreciate the brothers’ mutual love of art, and each other. The brothers could only afford the prints of Édouard Manet but expanded their collection through artistic exchange with contemporaries like Émile Bernard, Meijer de Haan, and John Russell.
Their filial relationship is, to be expected, this exhibition’s core. Behind ‘Quinces, Lemons, Pears and Grapes’ (1887) lies the inscription ‘to my brother’; further back, it is implied in their shared interests in the arts of Paul Cézanne and Japan, though neither are mentioned.
Jo would never sell Vincent’s ‘Fountain in the Garden of the Asylum’ (1889), as it was Theo’s favourite work. And as the name suggests, Choosing Vincent dwells as much upon individual decision-making. The curation is tactile, interactive, and accessible for children – but raises troubling questions about an artist who is already controversially curated. Viewers follow a timeline on the floor and are asked to take his life decisions for themselves. But much of it is too simple, tending towards a ‘fun facts’ history of the artist. Who are we to take part in his life, to pass judgements on (often minor) decisions that have already been made?
These searching questions work better with respect to those decisions made after his death in 1890, by those managing his estate. ‘What if Jo had never published the letters because she considered them too personal? Would Vincent have become as famous if we knew less about his struggles, dreams and ideas?’
In 1914, Jo did publish the artist’s letters, a mammoth task set by her dying husband Theo. The compilation would be instrumental to the construction of the myth of the artist, and international status in art history – including some lingering negative tropes concerning the mental health of the ‘tortured artist’.
The final rooms focus on the other Vincent van Gogh - his nephew, Theo and Jo’s son. ‘Engineer Vincent’, named after his uncle, first pursued his own path before taking a more active role in the estate from the 1940s. (Increasingly interventionist, engineer Vincent suggested grey walls, natural lighting, and simple frames.)
Almond Blossoms (1888-1890), a series first painted for the artist’s nephew, would ‘overlook pillow fights’ in various van Gogh family bedrooms. Read in the light of the day, these warm personal details seem like remarkable privileges. Endless poster reproductions of ‘Almond Blossoms’ now adorn university halls; here, we see the original ‘Seascape’ which hung in engineer Vincent’s student digs in Delft.
The estate stopped selling van Gogh in the 1920s. Some works were kept on permanent loan to the Stedelijk Museum, where Jo organised the first van Gogh exhibition in 1905. Engineer Vincent played a crucial role in protecting the collection during World War II, finding a suitable bunker near Castricum. In 1960, he established the Vincent Van Gogh Foundation, to which he transferred the entire estate two years later, in a reciprocal agreement with the Dutch government to build the eponymous museum.
Choosing Vincent concludes with another set of decisions; how to hang the paintings of the newly opened Van Gogh Museum. Documentary films show how paper substitutes were used to determine the placement of the (manhandled!) works, a collection which still stands at around 230 paintings and 500 drawings.
When it opened fifty years ago, the Museum hoped to welcome one million visitors a year. It doubled that number in 2019, the last before the COVID pandemic. Whether and how it survives will depend on the continued reassessment - and expansion – of its permanent collection in new lights.
Choosing Vincent: Portrait of a Family History is on show at the Van Gogh Museum until 10 April 2023.
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
When Jo van Gogh-Bonger finally sold 200 paintings and 50 drawings by her brother-in-law to the Dutch government for seven million euros, she considered the deal a good one. History might challenge her decision; to date, Vincent van Gogh’s most expensive work fetched over 77 million euros ($83 million) at market.
When her husband, Theo, died just six months after his brother Vincent, Jo was left a young widow. Though she remarried, she retained her first husband’s commitment to promoting the artist, acknowledging how important it was that as many people as possible see his work. Jo’s tireless work and dedication saw Vincent finally gain recognition after his death and kept much of his collection together.
Choosing Vincent promises a Portrait of a Family History, but at its best, it is a quiet testament to the women who make the great men of history. (Vincent’s mother, Anna, also instilled within her children a love of nature and drawing.) The important context comes outside the gallery walls. In the shop, Hans Luijten’s instructive book, Jo van Gogh-Bonger: The Woman who Made van Gogh Famous, is now available in translation.
Inside the exhibition, childhood letters, prints, and illustrations abound. In ‘Reminiscence’, we see Vincent’s nostalgia for his childhood in the Netherlands, as recalled years later (and thousands of kilometres away) in the south of France. Archive photographs open each section, each dedicated to the work of a different van Gogh, to the present, reflecting the artist’s own devotion to his family during his lifetime.
Through Theo, we appreciate the brothers’ mutual love of art, and each other. The brothers could only afford the prints of Édouard Manet but expanded their collection through artistic exchange with contemporaries like Émile Bernard, Meijer de Haan, and John Russell.
Their filial relationship is, to be expected, this exhibition’s core. Behind ‘Quinces, Lemons, Pears and Grapes’ (1887) lies the inscription ‘to my brother’; further back, it is implied in their shared interests in the arts of Paul Cézanne and Japan, though neither are mentioned.
Jo would never sell Vincent’s ‘Fountain in the Garden of the Asylum’ (1889), as it was Theo’s favourite work. And as the name suggests, Choosing Vincent dwells as much upon individual decision-making. The curation is tactile, interactive, and accessible for children – but raises troubling questions about an artist who is already controversially curated. Viewers follow a timeline on the floor and are asked to take his life decisions for themselves. But much of it is too simple, tending towards a ‘fun facts’ history of the artist. Who are we to take part in his life, to pass judgements on (often minor) decisions that have already been made?
These searching questions work better with respect to those decisions made after his death in 1890, by those managing his estate. ‘What if Jo had never published the letters because she considered them too personal? Would Vincent have become as famous if we knew less about his struggles, dreams and ideas?’
In 1914, Jo did publish the artist’s letters, a mammoth task set by her dying husband Theo. The compilation would be instrumental to the construction of the myth of the artist, and international status in art history – including some lingering negative tropes concerning the mental health of the ‘tortured artist’.
The final rooms focus on the other Vincent van Gogh - his nephew, Theo and Jo’s son. ‘Engineer Vincent’, named after his uncle, first pursued his own path before taking a more active role in the estate from the 1940s. (Increasingly interventionist, engineer Vincent suggested grey walls, natural lighting, and simple frames.)
Almond Blossoms (1888-1890), a series first painted for the artist’s nephew, would ‘overlook pillow fights’ in various van Gogh family bedrooms. Read in the light of the day, these warm personal details seem like remarkable privileges. Endless poster reproductions of ‘Almond Blossoms’ now adorn university halls; here, we see the original ‘Seascape’ which hung in engineer Vincent’s student digs in Delft.
The estate stopped selling van Gogh in the 1920s. Some works were kept on permanent loan to the Stedelijk Museum, where Jo organised the first van Gogh exhibition in 1905. Engineer Vincent played a crucial role in protecting the collection during World War II, finding a suitable bunker near Castricum. In 1960, he established the Vincent Van Gogh Foundation, to which he transferred the entire estate two years later, in a reciprocal agreement with the Dutch government to build the eponymous museum.
Choosing Vincent concludes with another set of decisions; how to hang the paintings of the newly opened Van Gogh Museum. Documentary films show how paper substitutes were used to determine the placement of the (manhandled!) works, a collection which still stands at around 230 paintings and 500 drawings.
When it opened fifty years ago, the Museum hoped to welcome one million visitors a year. It doubled that number in 2019, the last before the COVID pandemic. Whether and how it survives will depend on the continued reassessment - and expansion – of its permanent collection in new lights.
Choosing Vincent: Portrait of a Family History is on show at the Van Gogh Museum until 10 April 2023.
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
When Jo van Gogh-Bonger finally sold 200 paintings and 50 drawings by her brother-in-law to the Dutch government for seven million euros, she considered the deal a good one. History might challenge her decision; to date, Vincent van Gogh’s most expensive work fetched over 77 million euros ($83 million) at market.
When her husband, Theo, died just six months after his brother Vincent, Jo was left a young widow. Though she remarried, she retained her first husband’s commitment to promoting the artist, acknowledging how important it was that as many people as possible see his work. Jo’s tireless work and dedication saw Vincent finally gain recognition after his death and kept much of his collection together.
Choosing Vincent promises a Portrait of a Family History, but at its best, it is a quiet testament to the women who make the great men of history. (Vincent’s mother, Anna, also instilled within her children a love of nature and drawing.) The important context comes outside the gallery walls. In the shop, Hans Luijten’s instructive book, Jo van Gogh-Bonger: The Woman who Made van Gogh Famous, is now available in translation.
Inside the exhibition, childhood letters, prints, and illustrations abound. In ‘Reminiscence’, we see Vincent’s nostalgia for his childhood in the Netherlands, as recalled years later (and thousands of kilometres away) in the south of France. Archive photographs open each section, each dedicated to the work of a different van Gogh, to the present, reflecting the artist’s own devotion to his family during his lifetime.
Through Theo, we appreciate the brothers’ mutual love of art, and each other. The brothers could only afford the prints of Édouard Manet but expanded their collection through artistic exchange with contemporaries like Émile Bernard, Meijer de Haan, and John Russell.
Their filial relationship is, to be expected, this exhibition’s core. Behind ‘Quinces, Lemons, Pears and Grapes’ (1887) lies the inscription ‘to my brother’; further back, it is implied in their shared interests in the arts of Paul Cézanne and Japan, though neither are mentioned.
Jo would never sell Vincent’s ‘Fountain in the Garden of the Asylum’ (1889), as it was Theo’s favourite work. And as the name suggests, Choosing Vincent dwells as much upon individual decision-making. The curation is tactile, interactive, and accessible for children – but raises troubling questions about an artist who is already controversially curated. Viewers follow a timeline on the floor and are asked to take his life decisions for themselves. But much of it is too simple, tending towards a ‘fun facts’ history of the artist. Who are we to take part in his life, to pass judgements on (often minor) decisions that have already been made?
These searching questions work better with respect to those decisions made after his death in 1890, by those managing his estate. ‘What if Jo had never published the letters because she considered them too personal? Would Vincent have become as famous if we knew less about his struggles, dreams and ideas?’
In 1914, Jo did publish the artist’s letters, a mammoth task set by her dying husband Theo. The compilation would be instrumental to the construction of the myth of the artist, and international status in art history – including some lingering negative tropes concerning the mental health of the ‘tortured artist’.
The final rooms focus on the other Vincent van Gogh - his nephew, Theo and Jo’s son. ‘Engineer Vincent’, named after his uncle, first pursued his own path before taking a more active role in the estate from the 1940s. (Increasingly interventionist, engineer Vincent suggested grey walls, natural lighting, and simple frames.)
Almond Blossoms (1888-1890), a series first painted for the artist’s nephew, would ‘overlook pillow fights’ in various van Gogh family bedrooms. Read in the light of the day, these warm personal details seem like remarkable privileges. Endless poster reproductions of ‘Almond Blossoms’ now adorn university halls; here, we see the original ‘Seascape’ which hung in engineer Vincent’s student digs in Delft.
The estate stopped selling van Gogh in the 1920s. Some works were kept on permanent loan to the Stedelijk Museum, where Jo organised the first van Gogh exhibition in 1905. Engineer Vincent played a crucial role in protecting the collection during World War II, finding a suitable bunker near Castricum. In 1960, he established the Vincent Van Gogh Foundation, to which he transferred the entire estate two years later, in a reciprocal agreement with the Dutch government to build the eponymous museum.
Choosing Vincent concludes with another set of decisions; how to hang the paintings of the newly opened Van Gogh Museum. Documentary films show how paper substitutes were used to determine the placement of the (manhandled!) works, a collection which still stands at around 230 paintings and 500 drawings.
When it opened fifty years ago, the Museum hoped to welcome one million visitors a year. It doubled that number in 2019, the last before the COVID pandemic. Whether and how it survives will depend on the continued reassessment - and expansion – of its permanent collection in new lights.
Choosing Vincent: Portrait of a Family History is on show at the Van Gogh Museum until 10 April 2023.
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
When Jo van Gogh-Bonger finally sold 200 paintings and 50 drawings by her brother-in-law to the Dutch government for seven million euros, she considered the deal a good one. History might challenge her decision; to date, Vincent van Gogh’s most expensive work fetched over 77 million euros ($83 million) at market.
When her husband, Theo, died just six months after his brother Vincent, Jo was left a young widow. Though she remarried, she retained her first husband’s commitment to promoting the artist, acknowledging how important it was that as many people as possible see his work. Jo’s tireless work and dedication saw Vincent finally gain recognition after his death and kept much of his collection together.
Choosing Vincent promises a Portrait of a Family History, but at its best, it is a quiet testament to the women who make the great men of history. (Vincent’s mother, Anna, also instilled within her children a love of nature and drawing.) The important context comes outside the gallery walls. In the shop, Hans Luijten’s instructive book, Jo van Gogh-Bonger: The Woman who Made van Gogh Famous, is now available in translation.
Inside the exhibition, childhood letters, prints, and illustrations abound. In ‘Reminiscence’, we see Vincent’s nostalgia for his childhood in the Netherlands, as recalled years later (and thousands of kilometres away) in the south of France. Archive photographs open each section, each dedicated to the work of a different van Gogh, to the present, reflecting the artist’s own devotion to his family during his lifetime.
Through Theo, we appreciate the brothers’ mutual love of art, and each other. The brothers could only afford the prints of Édouard Manet but expanded their collection through artistic exchange with contemporaries like Émile Bernard, Meijer de Haan, and John Russell.
Their filial relationship is, to be expected, this exhibition’s core. Behind ‘Quinces, Lemons, Pears and Grapes’ (1887) lies the inscription ‘to my brother’; further back, it is implied in their shared interests in the arts of Paul Cézanne and Japan, though neither are mentioned.
Jo would never sell Vincent’s ‘Fountain in the Garden of the Asylum’ (1889), as it was Theo’s favourite work. And as the name suggests, Choosing Vincent dwells as much upon individual decision-making. The curation is tactile, interactive, and accessible for children – but raises troubling questions about an artist who is already controversially curated. Viewers follow a timeline on the floor and are asked to take his life decisions for themselves. But much of it is too simple, tending towards a ‘fun facts’ history of the artist. Who are we to take part in his life, to pass judgements on (often minor) decisions that have already been made?
These searching questions work better with respect to those decisions made after his death in 1890, by those managing his estate. ‘What if Jo had never published the letters because she considered them too personal? Would Vincent have become as famous if we knew less about his struggles, dreams and ideas?’
In 1914, Jo did publish the artist’s letters, a mammoth task set by her dying husband Theo. The compilation would be instrumental to the construction of the myth of the artist, and international status in art history – including some lingering negative tropes concerning the mental health of the ‘tortured artist’.
The final rooms focus on the other Vincent van Gogh - his nephew, Theo and Jo’s son. ‘Engineer Vincent’, named after his uncle, first pursued his own path before taking a more active role in the estate from the 1940s. (Increasingly interventionist, engineer Vincent suggested grey walls, natural lighting, and simple frames.)
Almond Blossoms (1888-1890), a series first painted for the artist’s nephew, would ‘overlook pillow fights’ in various van Gogh family bedrooms. Read in the light of the day, these warm personal details seem like remarkable privileges. Endless poster reproductions of ‘Almond Blossoms’ now adorn university halls; here, we see the original ‘Seascape’ which hung in engineer Vincent’s student digs in Delft.
The estate stopped selling van Gogh in the 1920s. Some works were kept on permanent loan to the Stedelijk Museum, where Jo organised the first van Gogh exhibition in 1905. Engineer Vincent played a crucial role in protecting the collection during World War II, finding a suitable bunker near Castricum. In 1960, he established the Vincent Van Gogh Foundation, to which he transferred the entire estate two years later, in a reciprocal agreement with the Dutch government to build the eponymous museum.
Choosing Vincent concludes with another set of decisions; how to hang the paintings of the newly opened Van Gogh Museum. Documentary films show how paper substitutes were used to determine the placement of the (manhandled!) works, a collection which still stands at around 230 paintings and 500 drawings.
When it opened fifty years ago, the Museum hoped to welcome one million visitors a year. It doubled that number in 2019, the last before the COVID pandemic. Whether and how it survives will depend on the continued reassessment - and expansion – of its permanent collection in new lights.
Choosing Vincent: Portrait of a Family History is on show at the Van Gogh Museum until 10 April 2023.
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
When Jo van Gogh-Bonger finally sold 200 paintings and 50 drawings by her brother-in-law to the Dutch government for seven million euros, she considered the deal a good one. History might challenge her decision; to date, Vincent van Gogh’s most expensive work fetched over 77 million euros ($83 million) at market.
When her husband, Theo, died just six months after his brother Vincent, Jo was left a young widow. Though she remarried, she retained her first husband’s commitment to promoting the artist, acknowledging how important it was that as many people as possible see his work. Jo’s tireless work and dedication saw Vincent finally gain recognition after his death and kept much of his collection together.
Choosing Vincent promises a Portrait of a Family History, but at its best, it is a quiet testament to the women who make the great men of history. (Vincent’s mother, Anna, also instilled within her children a love of nature and drawing.) The important context comes outside the gallery walls. In the shop, Hans Luijten’s instructive book, Jo van Gogh-Bonger: The Woman who Made van Gogh Famous, is now available in translation.
Inside the exhibition, childhood letters, prints, and illustrations abound. In ‘Reminiscence’, we see Vincent’s nostalgia for his childhood in the Netherlands, as recalled years later (and thousands of kilometres away) in the south of France. Archive photographs open each section, each dedicated to the work of a different van Gogh, to the present, reflecting the artist’s own devotion to his family during his lifetime.
Through Theo, we appreciate the brothers’ mutual love of art, and each other. The brothers could only afford the prints of Édouard Manet but expanded their collection through artistic exchange with contemporaries like Émile Bernard, Meijer de Haan, and John Russell.
Their filial relationship is, to be expected, this exhibition’s core. Behind ‘Quinces, Lemons, Pears and Grapes’ (1887) lies the inscription ‘to my brother’; further back, it is implied in their shared interests in the arts of Paul Cézanne and Japan, though neither are mentioned.
Jo would never sell Vincent’s ‘Fountain in the Garden of the Asylum’ (1889), as it was Theo’s favourite work. And as the name suggests, Choosing Vincent dwells as much upon individual decision-making. The curation is tactile, interactive, and accessible for children – but raises troubling questions about an artist who is already controversially curated. Viewers follow a timeline on the floor and are asked to take his life decisions for themselves. But much of it is too simple, tending towards a ‘fun facts’ history of the artist. Who are we to take part in his life, to pass judgements on (often minor) decisions that have already been made?
These searching questions work better with respect to those decisions made after his death in 1890, by those managing his estate. ‘What if Jo had never published the letters because she considered them too personal? Would Vincent have become as famous if we knew less about his struggles, dreams and ideas?’
In 1914, Jo did publish the artist’s letters, a mammoth task set by her dying husband Theo. The compilation would be instrumental to the construction of the myth of the artist, and international status in art history – including some lingering negative tropes concerning the mental health of the ‘tortured artist’.
The final rooms focus on the other Vincent van Gogh - his nephew, Theo and Jo’s son. ‘Engineer Vincent’, named after his uncle, first pursued his own path before taking a more active role in the estate from the 1940s. (Increasingly interventionist, engineer Vincent suggested grey walls, natural lighting, and simple frames.)
Almond Blossoms (1888-1890), a series first painted for the artist’s nephew, would ‘overlook pillow fights’ in various van Gogh family bedrooms. Read in the light of the day, these warm personal details seem like remarkable privileges. Endless poster reproductions of ‘Almond Blossoms’ now adorn university halls; here, we see the original ‘Seascape’ which hung in engineer Vincent’s student digs in Delft.
The estate stopped selling van Gogh in the 1920s. Some works were kept on permanent loan to the Stedelijk Museum, where Jo organised the first van Gogh exhibition in 1905. Engineer Vincent played a crucial role in protecting the collection during World War II, finding a suitable bunker near Castricum. In 1960, he established the Vincent Van Gogh Foundation, to which he transferred the entire estate two years later, in a reciprocal agreement with the Dutch government to build the eponymous museum.
Choosing Vincent concludes with another set of decisions; how to hang the paintings of the newly opened Van Gogh Museum. Documentary films show how paper substitutes were used to determine the placement of the (manhandled!) works, a collection which still stands at around 230 paintings and 500 drawings.
When it opened fifty years ago, the Museum hoped to welcome one million visitors a year. It doubled that number in 2019, the last before the COVID pandemic. Whether and how it survives will depend on the continued reassessment - and expansion – of its permanent collection in new lights.
Choosing Vincent: Portrait of a Family History is on show at the Van Gogh Museum until 10 April 2023.
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
When Jo van Gogh-Bonger finally sold 200 paintings and 50 drawings by her brother-in-law to the Dutch government for seven million euros, she considered the deal a good one. History might challenge her decision; to date, Vincent van Gogh’s most expensive work fetched over 77 million euros ($83 million) at market.
When her husband, Theo, died just six months after his brother Vincent, Jo was left a young widow. Though she remarried, she retained her first husband’s commitment to promoting the artist, acknowledging how important it was that as many people as possible see his work. Jo’s tireless work and dedication saw Vincent finally gain recognition after his death and kept much of his collection together.
Choosing Vincent promises a Portrait of a Family History, but at its best, it is a quiet testament to the women who make the great men of history. (Vincent’s mother, Anna, also instilled within her children a love of nature and drawing.) The important context comes outside the gallery walls. In the shop, Hans Luijten’s instructive book, Jo van Gogh-Bonger: The Woman who Made van Gogh Famous, is now available in translation.
Inside the exhibition, childhood letters, prints, and illustrations abound. In ‘Reminiscence’, we see Vincent’s nostalgia for his childhood in the Netherlands, as recalled years later (and thousands of kilometres away) in the south of France. Archive photographs open each section, each dedicated to the work of a different van Gogh, to the present, reflecting the artist’s own devotion to his family during his lifetime.
Through Theo, we appreciate the brothers’ mutual love of art, and each other. The brothers could only afford the prints of Édouard Manet but expanded their collection through artistic exchange with contemporaries like Émile Bernard, Meijer de Haan, and John Russell.
Their filial relationship is, to be expected, this exhibition’s core. Behind ‘Quinces, Lemons, Pears and Grapes’ (1887) lies the inscription ‘to my brother’; further back, it is implied in their shared interests in the arts of Paul Cézanne and Japan, though neither are mentioned.
Jo would never sell Vincent’s ‘Fountain in the Garden of the Asylum’ (1889), as it was Theo’s favourite work. And as the name suggests, Choosing Vincent dwells as much upon individual decision-making. The curation is tactile, interactive, and accessible for children – but raises troubling questions about an artist who is already controversially curated. Viewers follow a timeline on the floor and are asked to take his life decisions for themselves. But much of it is too simple, tending towards a ‘fun facts’ history of the artist. Who are we to take part in his life, to pass judgements on (often minor) decisions that have already been made?
These searching questions work better with respect to those decisions made after his death in 1890, by those managing his estate. ‘What if Jo had never published the letters because she considered them too personal? Would Vincent have become as famous if we knew less about his struggles, dreams and ideas?’
In 1914, Jo did publish the artist’s letters, a mammoth task set by her dying husband Theo. The compilation would be instrumental to the construction of the myth of the artist, and international status in art history – including some lingering negative tropes concerning the mental health of the ‘tortured artist’.
The final rooms focus on the other Vincent van Gogh - his nephew, Theo and Jo’s son. ‘Engineer Vincent’, named after his uncle, first pursued his own path before taking a more active role in the estate from the 1940s. (Increasingly interventionist, engineer Vincent suggested grey walls, natural lighting, and simple frames.)
Almond Blossoms (1888-1890), a series first painted for the artist’s nephew, would ‘overlook pillow fights’ in various van Gogh family bedrooms. Read in the light of the day, these warm personal details seem like remarkable privileges. Endless poster reproductions of ‘Almond Blossoms’ now adorn university halls; here, we see the original ‘Seascape’ which hung in engineer Vincent’s student digs in Delft.
The estate stopped selling van Gogh in the 1920s. Some works were kept on permanent loan to the Stedelijk Museum, where Jo organised the first van Gogh exhibition in 1905. Engineer Vincent played a crucial role in protecting the collection during World War II, finding a suitable bunker near Castricum. In 1960, he established the Vincent Van Gogh Foundation, to which he transferred the entire estate two years later, in a reciprocal agreement with the Dutch government to build the eponymous museum.
Choosing Vincent concludes with another set of decisions; how to hang the paintings of the newly opened Van Gogh Museum. Documentary films show how paper substitutes were used to determine the placement of the (manhandled!) works, a collection which still stands at around 230 paintings and 500 drawings.
When it opened fifty years ago, the Museum hoped to welcome one million visitors a year. It doubled that number in 2019, the last before the COVID pandemic. Whether and how it survives will depend on the continued reassessment - and expansion – of its permanent collection in new lights.
Choosing Vincent: Portrait of a Family History is on show at the Van Gogh Museum until 10 April 2023.
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
When Jo van Gogh-Bonger finally sold 200 paintings and 50 drawings by her brother-in-law to the Dutch government for seven million euros, she considered the deal a good one. History might challenge her decision; to date, Vincent van Gogh’s most expensive work fetched over 77 million euros ($83 million) at market.
When her husband, Theo, died just six months after his brother Vincent, Jo was left a young widow. Though she remarried, she retained her first husband’s commitment to promoting the artist, acknowledging how important it was that as many people as possible see his work. Jo’s tireless work and dedication saw Vincent finally gain recognition after his death and kept much of his collection together.
Choosing Vincent promises a Portrait of a Family History, but at its best, it is a quiet testament to the women who make the great men of history. (Vincent’s mother, Anna, also instilled within her children a love of nature and drawing.) The important context comes outside the gallery walls. In the shop, Hans Luijten’s instructive book, Jo van Gogh-Bonger: The Woman who Made van Gogh Famous, is now available in translation.
Inside the exhibition, childhood letters, prints, and illustrations abound. In ‘Reminiscence’, we see Vincent’s nostalgia for his childhood in the Netherlands, as recalled years later (and thousands of kilometres away) in the south of France. Archive photographs open each section, each dedicated to the work of a different van Gogh, to the present, reflecting the artist’s own devotion to his family during his lifetime.
Through Theo, we appreciate the brothers’ mutual love of art, and each other. The brothers could only afford the prints of Édouard Manet but expanded their collection through artistic exchange with contemporaries like Émile Bernard, Meijer de Haan, and John Russell.
Their filial relationship is, to be expected, this exhibition’s core. Behind ‘Quinces, Lemons, Pears and Grapes’ (1887) lies the inscription ‘to my brother’; further back, it is implied in their shared interests in the arts of Paul Cézanne and Japan, though neither are mentioned.
Jo would never sell Vincent’s ‘Fountain in the Garden of the Asylum’ (1889), as it was Theo’s favourite work. And as the name suggests, Choosing Vincent dwells as much upon individual decision-making. The curation is tactile, interactive, and accessible for children – but raises troubling questions about an artist who is already controversially curated. Viewers follow a timeline on the floor and are asked to take his life decisions for themselves. But much of it is too simple, tending towards a ‘fun facts’ history of the artist. Who are we to take part in his life, to pass judgements on (often minor) decisions that have already been made?
These searching questions work better with respect to those decisions made after his death in 1890, by those managing his estate. ‘What if Jo had never published the letters because she considered them too personal? Would Vincent have become as famous if we knew less about his struggles, dreams and ideas?’
In 1914, Jo did publish the artist’s letters, a mammoth task set by her dying husband Theo. The compilation would be instrumental to the construction of the myth of the artist, and international status in art history – including some lingering negative tropes concerning the mental health of the ‘tortured artist’.
The final rooms focus on the other Vincent van Gogh - his nephew, Theo and Jo’s son. ‘Engineer Vincent’, named after his uncle, first pursued his own path before taking a more active role in the estate from the 1940s. (Increasingly interventionist, engineer Vincent suggested grey walls, natural lighting, and simple frames.)
Almond Blossoms (1888-1890), a series first painted for the artist’s nephew, would ‘overlook pillow fights’ in various van Gogh family bedrooms. Read in the light of the day, these warm personal details seem like remarkable privileges. Endless poster reproductions of ‘Almond Blossoms’ now adorn university halls; here, we see the original ‘Seascape’ which hung in engineer Vincent’s student digs in Delft.
The estate stopped selling van Gogh in the 1920s. Some works were kept on permanent loan to the Stedelijk Museum, where Jo organised the first van Gogh exhibition in 1905. Engineer Vincent played a crucial role in protecting the collection during World War II, finding a suitable bunker near Castricum. In 1960, he established the Vincent Van Gogh Foundation, to which he transferred the entire estate two years later, in a reciprocal agreement with the Dutch government to build the eponymous museum.
Choosing Vincent concludes with another set of decisions; how to hang the paintings of the newly opened Van Gogh Museum. Documentary films show how paper substitutes were used to determine the placement of the (manhandled!) works, a collection which still stands at around 230 paintings and 500 drawings.
When it opened fifty years ago, the Museum hoped to welcome one million visitors a year. It doubled that number in 2019, the last before the COVID pandemic. Whether and how it survives will depend on the continued reassessment - and expansion – of its permanent collection in new lights.
Choosing Vincent: Portrait of a Family History is on show at the Van Gogh Museum until 10 April 2023.
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!