Corridor in the Asylum
12:00 AM
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| Vincent Van Gogh, Corridor in the Asylum, 1889 |
Vincent van Gogh’s painting of Corridor in the Asylum caught my eye with the depth in the center of the painting, which seeming like an endless reach.
This was Van Gogh’s depiction of the asylum of Saint-Paul-de-Mausole in Saint-Rémy, where he spent twelve months near the end of his life and where he painted his oils of olive groves, cypresses and roses. The painting re-kindles the memory I have of my grandmother and how she has affected my life. My grandma was sick and there was nothing I could do. However, she was never negative, always smiling and keeping the mood filled with vitality - despite her age. From the angle in which we see the corridor the front pillars are in brighter and smoother colors; but they darken as the the viewer's sight travels the distance. My feelings of hope for the health of my grandmother diminished as doctors and others said delivered their verdicts, but she would always find a way to make me think otherwise.
This was Van Gogh’s depiction of the asylum of Saint-Paul-de-Mausole in Saint-Rémy, where he spent twelve months near the end of his life and where he painted his oils of olive groves, cypresses and roses. The painting re-kindles the memory I have of my grandmother and how she has affected my life. My grandma was sick and there was nothing I could do. However, she was never negative, always smiling and keeping the mood filled with vitality - despite her age. From the angle in which we see the corridor the front pillars are in brighter and smoother colors; but they darken as the the viewer's sight travels the distance. My feelings of hope for the health of my grandmother diminished as doctors and others said delivered their verdicts, but she would always find a way to make me think otherwise.
Hasmukh Amathalal’s poem "Powerless" is my comparison towards this painting and my memories. The poem’s second half especially brings me back to the day’s when my grandmother would speak with me about pursuing my dreams and sticking to my morals. Amathalal writes, “I became powerless when you went somewhere” and “I land in problems when you leave.” My grandmother was my second mother figure, and I could speak to her when my mother was busy with work. She and my grandfather had been through a lot and always made me realize how lucky I am, “You are a great source of strength and power," every time I think things are bad I think of my grandparents and siblings and know that things will be okay. Her death had left me in tears and sorrow, but that sorrow was quickly triumphed after speaking with my mother and knowing that my grandmother would want me to use her lessons to strive and succeed.
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