Vincent Van Gogh 74 - One Model -Two Paintings Poem by Geeta Radhakrishna Menon

In the humble dwelling cum studio of Vincent,
The two enthusiastic artistes - De Bock and Vincent,
Came together to sketch the nude figure
Of their model -a very beautiful young girl!
Unlike De Bock, Vincent would have preferred
To sketch old men and women, bodies that had
Experienced wear and tear, rough and tough,
Exceptionally toned body with a character.

Well! But this was a chance, opportunity afforded
By an affluent painter and Vincent took it with humility.
The professional model undressed in the warmth
Of the Kitchen stove and stood before them.
The men began painting silently
Fully focused on their work.
After about one and half hours of standing,
The model got tired. Vincent told the girl to sit down,
As it would be more relaxing and comfortable for her.
Vincent and De Bock continued their work,
Hardly lifting up their heads or even making a sound.
Around noon, they completed their work.

Vincent, De Bock and the model took a break
And sat together to have their lunch.
Thanks to De Bock who had packed sandwiches for all.
He had even brought expensive cigars with him.
Both the artistes relaxed smoking a cigar for a while.
Then they began to view and compare their art work.
They reviewed each other's art work of the day.
De Bock had made a beautiful sketch of the model.
Both her face and body looked perfect
Like an exotic sculpture,
Vincent's sketch of the model, hardly looked beautiful,
In fact, De Bock noticed that the model had no face at all.

De Bock questioned Vincent:
"Is that what you mean by putting passion into it?
What's the thing you've got instead of her face? "
"We weren't doing a portrait, replied Vincent,
We were doing a figure." De Bock was surprised.
"That's the first time that I ever heard a face
Doesn't belong on a figure."
"Take a look at your stomach. Said Vincent.
It looks as though it is filled with hot air.
I can't see an inch of bowels."
"Why should you? Asked De Bock.
I didn't notice any of girl's entrails hanging out."

The model who sat silently listening to these two painters,
Thought to herself that these artistes were a crazy lot.
She was hardly bothered whether Vincent saw her stomach,
Full of guts or whether he could perceive mass of food,
Wending its weary way from the stomach to the intestine.
De Bock was shocked. He retorted angrily this time:
We are not specialists in viscera, are we?
When people look at my canvases.
I want them to see the mist in the trees,
And the sun setting red behind the clouds.
I don't want them to see guts."
What started as a joyful day ended as a frustratingly funny day!

A Biographical Poem