Announcer: This is a Getty Podcast.
Lilit Sadoyan: Today we’re exploring Vincent van Gogh's
powerful and enigmatic painting Irises, from 1889.
[Peaceful theme music begins]
Welcome to Our Museum Mindfulness Meditation
Podcast, or OMMM.
Part art history and part meditation, we use works of
art from the Getty collection as inspiration for mindfulness
and deep reflection.
Hi—I’m Dr. Lilit Sadoyan.
I’m a long-time meditation practitioner and museum
educator at Getty.
Thanks for joining me as we bring mindfulness
out of the gallery and into our daily lives.
[Theme music ends]
Today we are exploring the power of presence in what
is arguably the most iconic painting at the Getty,
Irises by Vincent van Gogh.
This episode begins with a breathing exercise to help
relax your body and mind.
We’ll then get a bit of history and context for the
painting, and we’ll close with a meditation that cultivates
awareness of our senses.
This series is also available as an audio podcast.
If you’d like to step away from a screen for a few
minutes, listen on your favorite podcast app.
Now if you’re ready, let’s jump in.
[Gong leads into soft music]
If you feel comfortable, you can close your eyes.
And let’s start by taking a few deep breaths together.
In through your nose [inhales]. Out through your mouth [exhales].
Deep breath in [inhales].
Deep breath out [exhales].
Inhale.
Exhale.
And just let your breathing resume its natural rhythm.
If your eyes are closed you can gently open them.
[chimes ring]
[Peaceful music begins]
Let’s enter Vincent van Gogh’s painting, Irises.
An untended patch of blue irises grows wildly in a garden.
The brilliant blooms atop sturdy stems and amidst pointy
leaves seem to sway in the wind.
They absorb the bright light of the sun.
They appear to be growing in a row out of the reddish
and burnt umber earth.
Another cropped cluster of flowers pops in from the
bottom right corner and leans towards the center.
In the opposite corner, at top left, orange flowers
are loosely painted in.
A solitary white iris stands at attention near the left side.
These vibrant blue irises were in fact originally violet.
Van Gogh mixed cobalt blue with geranium lake red to paint them.
But over time, the red has faded, leaving the irises
looking more blue than purple.
[Music fades out]
Even still, colors are in conversation in this painting.
The original violets butted up against yellows,
greens sit next to reds.
These pairings are complimentary colors, which
Van Gogh understood created dynamic visual effects
when placed side-by-side.
He said that in this way, colors “attain [ed]
maximum brilliancy.”
The juxtapositions are even more obvious when we look
at the painted surface: the application of thick paint, or
impasto, intentionally placed, one brushstroke next to another.
It’s energetic and expressive.
The warm earth is painted wet-in-wet, each
brushstroke blending colors directly on the canvas.
In other areas, Van Gogh waited for the paint to dry
before adding more layers, leaving colors distinctively
sitting side by side.
The perspective of the painting makes me imagine the
artist observing the flowers from down low to the ground.
We see the flowers emerging directly from the earth—an
unusual focus for his flower paintings, perhaps speaking
to his own belief in the regenerative cycles of nature.
This low viewpoint eliminates a horizon line altogether.
Immersed in the smells of the garden, sounds of the birds
and the breeze, the sensation of the warm Provençal sun on
his skin, Van Gogh’s senses must have been fully engaged.
We are right there with him, everything is intensely alive.
[Gentle music begins]
Vincent van Gogh began painting Irises on May 8, 1889.
He had just voluntarily checked himself into an asylum, the
Monastery Saint-Paul de Mausole at Saint-Remy in Provence,
in the south of France.
He was experiencing a mental health crisis and
had suffered a breakdown.
He arrived from Arles where he had fought with fellow
artist Paul Gauguin, who had been temporarily living
with him, and where Van Gogh had been hospitalized after
he cut off his own ear.
[Music fades]
The following day, Vincent wrote to his brother Theo about
starting this painting, noting, “I believe that all my faculties
for work will come back to me quite quickly.” And just two
weeks later, he noted to his brother “life happens above all
in the garden, it isn’t so sad.”
[Nature sounds, including birds, begin over soft music]
In the first few weeks after Van Gogh arrived at the
asylum, he was not allowed to leave the grounds.
So he found one of the first subjects in it’s
garden: these irises.
Painting during his stay seems to have been very
important for his recovery.
He was even granted a second room to use as a studio.
[Music fades]
Van Gogh’s path to art was not traditional.
He was the son of a Reformed Protestant minister in
Holland, and he became increasingly religious
throughout his young adult life.
He attempted to study theology and was a lay preacher.
He also took jobs as an art dealer and a schoolmaster.
In 1880, at the age of 27, and at the urging of his
brother Theo–but much to their parents’ chagrin–Van Gogh
decided to become an artist.
He was largely self taught.
His early works focused on peasant life, farmers,
weavers, and workers.
He moved to Paris in 1886, six years after he had decided to
pursue art, where he encountered the work of the Impressionists.
Here, he transitioned away from a dark palette.
As his work grew progressively brighter, he developed his own
style of painting, his iconic short and layered brush strokes.
At this time, he also discovered Japanese woodblocks, which
inspired his bold outlines and cropping, as seen in Irises.
[Nature sounds begin]
Nature, gardens, can be places for recovery and rejuvenation.
But did Van Gogh’s composition hold a deeper symbolism as well?
The lines of the composition seem to direct the viewer’s
attention to the single white iris near the left
edge of the painting.
Leaves, flowers, even the artist’s signature seem to point
towards the singular bloom.
It has been suggested that this flower might be a kind
of self-portrait: the one that is isolated, stands
out, doesn’t quite fit in.
But is that what Van Gogh had in mind when he painted it?
We don’t know.
Yet its inclusion nevertheless provides an anchor to
the complex composition.
The painting wouldn’t be the same without it.
And he guides our eye right to it.
This painting offers itself up as an invitation to
get low to the ground.
To come face-to-face with the flowers.
To pay attention to things overlooked.
To be fully immersed in the beauty and gift of nature.
And Van Gogh understood this to be a mindful activity, writing
just a couple months later, “I feel obliged to go out and
look at a blade of grass, the branch of a fir tree, an ear of
wheat, in order to calm down.”
So let’s accept this invitation to imagine ourselves fully
present, aware of our senses and the sensations
of the world around us.
[Gong, then gentle music]
If you feel comfortable, I invite you to close your eyes.
If you would prefer to keep your eyes open, that’s ok.
Just lower your gaze and lower your lids to minimize
visual distraction.
Use this time to go inward.
And adopt a posture that feels both relaxed and
alert in your body, whatever that means for you today.
Feel a sense of ease.
And let’s begin by taking a few deep breaths together.
In through your nose [inhales]
Out through your mouth [exhales]
Arriving with each breath in,
settling with each breath out.
Deep inhale.
Deep exhale.
And just let your breathing resume its natural rhythm.
So there’s no need to force or extend anything here.
Just let your body do what it does very naturally.
And see if you can pay attention to the way that the breath
moves in and out of the body.
You can get very specific with this.
Notice, for example, what’s the texture like today?
Is it smooth or bumpy?
What’s the temperature like every time I breathe
in and breathe out?
Is it warm or cool on my inhale and exhale
right around my nostrils?
Just notice for yourself.
And see if you can follow that breath in through
your nasal passage and down into your chest.
Notice the rise and fall of your chest with each breath
in and each breath out.
If your breath is deeper than that, again,
no need to force it.
But if you can feel your breath in your soft belly, notice your
belly inflate and deflate like a balloon with each breath,
expanding and collapsing.
And if your mind wanders, that’s okay.
Just notice the thoughts as they arise and gently bring your
awareness back to your breath.
Use your breath as your anchor to the present moment.
Nowhere else to be, nothing else to do but to be here now.
[Silence]
Another anchor to the present moment is sound.
Sounds are so spontaneous.
We really never know what the next sound is going to be.
So tune into your environment, however subtle or obvious.
Notice how sounds arise and dissipate.
[Silence]
And without a need to create a story or a narrative around
the sounds, notice for yourself what is the closest sound
that I can hear right now?
And what is the farthest sound that I can hear right now?
And can you visualize the space between those two sounds?
How near or far are they from one another?
Letting that go.
And I invite you to notice the sensation of air on your skin,
the temperature on your skin.
Noticing the texture of the clothes on your skin.
And feeling into the surface upon which you’re seated
or standing or lying down.
Coming into contact with these surfaces through touch.
Notice any lingering scents in your environment,
which aromas are present.
Or is there an absence of strong smells here?
Without resisting or pushing away, just notice them.
And finally, notice how these senses blend together,
bringing your conscious awareness to your physical body
present here.
Notice the sensations in your body.
And let’s close by taking a deep breath together.
Inhale.
Exhale.
If your eyes are closed, gently open them, coming back
to your environment, slowly bringing your awareness back
to the space that you’re in.
[Theme music begins]
As we return to the world, let’s carry this sense of
presence and awareness with us.
Look at things around you as if you are seeing
them for the first time.
Notice colors, shapes, and light, and notice how your
senses contribute to your experience of the moment.
Feel yourself there, fully present, grounded in your
body and surroundings.
Use it as a reminder to be in the present moment, and
notice how it makes you feel.
Let’s return to our breath one last time and close our
practice by taking the biggest breath you’ve taken all day.
In.
[inhales]
Sigh it out.
[exhales]
Thank you so much for joining me.
[Music slowly fades out]