Arles – “Friends, Romans, Countrymen, lend me your ear”

You are probably curious about the title of this “Walk”.  Well, I promise you, there is a point and I will get to it in due time and then, it will be obvious.  But first, here is how I got to the point of writing about the moderately sized Provence city of Arles.  In truth, I intended to go somewhere else during this “Walk”…….a well known Italian beach destination town…one that everyone wants to travel to and so, I started writing about my journey there from two years ago.  But….I kept thinking about those other places I have gone….those surprises that were an afterthought on my itinerary and then became much more.  Then, I thought of Arles, France and I needed to write this.

Most people who travel to Provence don’t likely swing into Arles…they may swing around it but not into it.  It is at best, the third city of Provence, after Aix and Avignon…indeed it was my third city as I had already feasted on the beauty and splendor of the other two.  So, with a little time on my hands on my return trip to Aix, I wandered into town with no agenda and little knowledge….honestly, I was hungry and looking for a light lunch.   

It is hard to separate history from the place so allow me to provide a little historical perspective as to why Arles was even a place.  It is quite old, being known to the Phoenicians as a trading port on the Rhone River with the Mediterranean just to the south and settled more formally by the Romans in the first century BC.  Arles competed with its rival port, present day Marseilles, for prestige and the city fathers made a fateful decision to side with Julius Caesar in a struggle for power…Marseilles went with Caesar’s rival Pompey and Caesar and Arles won out and, as a result, Arles gained prominence within the empire.  The offspring of that alliance is the incredible treasure trove of Roman ruins in the form of a well preserved arena, a theatre, a classic triumphant arch and walls that still stand…this was a total surprise to me and well worth a day or two to explore and soak it all in.  There is a museum as well and it is smartly composed and gives you a feel for what Arles really looked like during its very prominent Roman period which lasted over 500 years.  The nicest thing is, this is not a crowded destination but has incredible Roman ruins just waiting to be walked and climbed on….they are unprotected and that makes them even more special, at least to me.  The ruins are still utilized for plays and performances and the arena hosts, among other things, bullfighting, to this day.

Arles was still prominent in the Middle Ages, both religiously and as a trade center but the arrival of the railroads made it’s river port less attractive for trade and it was finally eclipsed once and for all by Marseilles….it faded into somewhat of a quiet, attractive backwater.  Oddly, this sleepy transformation was attractive to one Vincent van Gogh who was in need of a calming place to ease his mind and it’s troubles and so, in 1888, he decided to base himself there for what turned out to be over a year.  From his stay in Arles, van Gogh produced many of his most famous paintings including Cafe Terrace at Night, Starry Night, Garden of the Hospital at Arles, Bridge at Langlois and Trinquetoille Bridge in Arles……almost 300 painting and drawings in all…just an effusion of artistic creativity that in my mind, has, arguably, never been equaled.  It was also here that his friend, the artist Paul Gauguin, joined him for part of his stay.  They lived together in what is called Yellow House…it no longer exists although Van Gogh produced a painting on the subject.  It was also in Yellow House that friction began between Gauguin and Van Gogh which coincided with Van Gogh’s famous downward spiraling mental health instability culminating in an argument between the two which resulted in Van Gogh cutting off his own ear and reportedly giving it to a prostitute.  

So at this point, I want to put a bow on the title as I promised I would, for those who haven’t gotten it yet.  The slightly altered quote is from the Shakespearian play Julius Caesar and is from a speech by Mark Anthony at Caesar’s funeral after his assassination….and well, of course, the single ear instead of two is the altered part in homage of Van Gogh’s departed appendage…..promise kept….now, for the rest of the story.

So, it occurred to me after stopping in Arles for a lunch on my way to Aix and enjoying the extensive Roman Ruins that I should press on and attempt do something unique.  Since so may of Van Gogh’s paintings from his Arles Period (1888-1889) were common scenes in and around Arles, why not search out some and compare how they look today versus how they looked in 1888 when he painted them?  In truth, what happened was I was walking through the old part of town, not knowing where to start this quest…..Arles is small and easy to walk and I happened upon a city square called Place du Forum…a small space…nice but nothing extraordinary except…… in the southeast corner is what is now called Cafe Van Gogh…..but when he painted it was known as Cafe Terrace.  I have to admit…it kinda took my breath away….one of those travel moments that you never forget.  It was as if I was dropped into the 1880s and Van Gogh had his easel out applying vivid, heavy brush strokes….it was just so similar to his painting, sans the Impressionistic flourishes of course. 

Unfortunately, it was mid-afternoon and closed but after a few pictures, it set me off with renewed energy on a sort of artistic scavenger hunt to find more of Van Gogh’s subjects.  With almost no research but a passionate fascination and a used tourist map I found near a trash bin, I set out into the rest of the city with that in mind.  

With only two hours of daylight left, I was able to find three other sites but I am certain there are many more that are still outside scenes and also still exist.  Some, like the Trinquetoille Bridge were altered by reconstruction but still we’re very recognizable.  Others like the Hospital, where Van Gogh went after he cut off his ear, were, as you would expect after 130 years, altered by vegetation….the external structure and courtyard layout though, are essentially the same.  The Roman Arena, that I had visited just an hour earlier, looked just the same…I hadn’t even realized it had been a Van Gogh subject until I pulled up a view of the painting during the afternoon, his Les Arènes.

As I was preparing to drive away, I realized that, although the light was already low, there was one more site that I really should try to capture.  The painting, Bridge at Langlois, is of a bridge over the Arles to Bouc Canal south of Arles.  Van Gogh painted five versions of this bridge and utilized aspects of the Japanese block print style that he had become fond of during this period of his life.  It is thought that he was especially attracted to this site because it had a strong resemblance to his homeland of Holland and as I drove along country roads towards the site, I could see the resemblance.  The bridge is for all purposes the same style that he painted almost 130 years ago…an odd, ingenious counter-balancing contraption requiring minimum power to raise and lower…he painted his paintings in the lowered position.  As luck would have it, on my day, it was in the raised position and so while not exactly the same, you can see it as he painted it.  

As with most of the subjects, in the Bridge at Langlois, I tried, although not always succeeding, to capture the same perspective as his paintings, with the exception of Les Arènes which I hadn’t realized was one of his when I walked through it.  Still, the vantage point I did capture in my mind and honestly, my heart, was one of connectivity to him.  It is of a man, teetering on the brink of sanity and no doubt fighting internally with himself….and yet, at this precipice of his existence, driven to create some of the greatest pieces of art ever put to canvas.  It is as though he knows his days are numbered and so, he produces as maniacally as, no doubt, he truly is.  Van Gogh died a year later, of his own hand, at age 37.

You never know when travel will intimately touch you in a way that it never has before…when you walk in the footsteps of someone who otherwise has no commonality to you…but in that minute in time, you feel strongly connected.  This was one of those times for me and I greatly long for the next one.