Olive Trees with Yellow Sky and Sun 1889

Editor: We're looking at Vincent van Gogh's "Olive Trees with Yellow Sky and Sun" from 1889, oil on canvas. What strikes me immediately is this vibrating yellow sky; it feels less like daylight and more like pure, feverish energy. How do you read this piece? Curator: Oh, absolutely. The yellow! It’s not just sunlight, it's… well, it's Van Gogh. He wasn't just painting what he *saw,* he was painting what he *felt.* Think about it: He's in Saint-Rémy, at the asylum. These olive trees, they're gnarled, strong, survivors. He probably saw a reflection of himself in them, wouldn’t you think? Twisted but still reaching for that intense, almost overwhelming, light. Editor: So the yellow becomes symbolic, almost representing hope or a struggle towards it? Curator: Exactly. And the impasto! Look how thickly he applied the paint. You can almost *feel* the intensity of his touch, that manic energy. He wasn't trying to create a perfectly realistic landscape. He was wrestling with something profound, trying to express the inexpressible. He uses the natural-landscape but isn't aiming for anything that might resembles something in nature as it truly exists, you know? Editor: It makes me think about his mental state at the time. The painting feels almost turbulent, but also strangely peaceful. It is like a push and pull, even a conversation. Curator: Precisely. Maybe the turbulence is a form of peace, his kind of equilibrium, to be honest. Like when a storm clears the air, right? Editor: So interesting to consider! I had previously always looked at this for its vivid use of colour, but not as symbolic of his inner struggles. Curator: Well, the color *is* part of that struggle, wouldn't you say?