My initial admiration for Vincent van Gogh came about as a child living in Essex, a borough located just east of London, England. I was also an avid gymnast, having witnessed Olga Korbut perform when I was just 10 years old. I also cultivated an affection for ancient Egypt. I remember visiting the Tutankhamun exhibition at the British Museum in 1972. This intrigue inevitably directed me to the realm of the pharaohs, leaving an enduring impression that remains to this day, possibly due to my belief in reincarnation and a longstanding attraction to the Temple of Karnak and the Goddess Ma’at.

My introduction to Vincent occurred during a school trip to the National Gallery in London, where I witnessed sunflowers for the first time. I recall feeling somewhat bored until this vibrant yellow floral painting caught my attention. Frankly, this is the only memory I have of the trip. Perhaps because it was yellow and reminded me of daffodils, a flower I often randomly picked for my mum.

Sunflowers reacquainted themselves to me a couple of years later while now residing in the naval city of Plymouth, Southwest England. My father was an avid gardener, and we often had sunflowers flourishing in the garden. For some strange reason, however, I was a little fearful of these seemingly enormous flower heads towering over me. If I visualized them in a vase, as depicted in the painting, they seemed more approachable.

Years later, at an age when I was more appreciative of art, I came to adore Vincent. Not only for his distinctive use of color, energetic brushwork, and emotional intensity, but also for his passion for nature and the personal adversities that influenced his work. I believe that Vincent’s work resonates with many individuals who have faced mental distress. Having said that, of course van Gogh produced an impressive body of work, which includes iconic pieces like my personal favorites, Starry Night Over the Rhône. The Starry Night, The Potato Eaters, Café Terrace at Night, The Night Café, Wheatfield with Crows, Irises, Self-Portrait with Grey Felt Hat, The Bedroom, and naturally Sunflowers—which go without saying.

Wheatfield without crows. Auvers-sur-Oise

In the early 1990s, I emigrated to Los Angeles and, as a result, visited the Getty Museum for the first time to view Irises. I was truly amazed and sat staring at this magnificent array of flowers for a good twenty minutes, knowing that the significance of “Irises” extends beyond its aesthetic appeal; it reflects Van Gogh’s emotional state during a tumultuous period in his life while at the Saint-Paul-de-Mausole asylum. People often interpret the painting as a symbol of hope and resilience, capturing the beauty of nature amidst personal struggles. The choice of Irises, which are often associated with faith and hope, further emphasizes this theme. Van Gogh’s ability to convey profound emotions through color and form has made “Irises” one of his most celebrated works.

At that time, art lovers were oblivious as to why Van Gogh’s Irises were blue instead of violet or purple. Irises, as well as the walls of The Bedroom, were, in fact, vibrant violet, as we now know. The discoloration is a result of the red lead paint that Vincent combined with blue to create violet. Scientists have discovered that red lead degrades over time, undergoing a bleaching process that results in its transformation from red to white.

In January 1999, “Van Gogh’s Van Goghs” opened at the LACMA, exhibiting 70 of Vincent’s masterpieces from the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam. From this point forward, I devoted a significant part of my life to learning everything I could possibly get my hands on regarding Vincent. My research led me to Amsterdam, back to London, Paris, Auvers-sur-Oise, and other significant locations associated with Vincent. I have read over 200 books, countless study papers relating to scientific analysis, and of course, the letters Vincent sent to his family and friends, as well as those he received. I have additionally and extensively studied his work, face-on and beneath the surface of the paint. One could argue that I am obsessed, and that’s perfectly acceptable, for what better an obsession?

Looking to the future, now living on the east coast of the United States, I find myself traveling at home and abroad with Vincent as my primary focus. More recently, Philadelphia, which boasts a modest yet impressive collection of Vincent’s works at both the Barnes Foundation and the Philadelphia Museum of Art.

With a firm handshake.