Vincent van Gogh. A man – nay -  a phenomenon much discussed and analysed, he has been subjected to the opinions and interpretations of critics and psychiatrists during his life, but even more so in the 120 years following his death in 1890. He was diagnosed with epilepsy, suspected to have suffered from lead poisoning by his paints, thujone poisoning due to his fondness of Absinthe, syphilis, sunstroke, depressions and so on and so forth. When the term bipolar was introduced in 1980, he became that as well. It seems that psychiatrists are no exception when it comes to being subject to their time; whenever a new illness is discovered, a lot of diagnoses are made according to the latest craze.

Was Van Gogh a genius, or just raving mad? How did his life evolve? How did it come to the point to which it came?

In collaboration with the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam, Het Dolhuys in Haarlem had organised an exhibition which did not deal with the result of his artistry, but rather with the mind behind the artist. If psychiatrists have been analyzing Van Gogh over time, why shouldn’t the general public have a go as well? I was lucky enough to participate during the final weekend of the exposition “Dossier Van Gogh – Gek of Geniaal?” (“File Van Gogh – Mad or Genius?”)

The exposition started with a booklet visitors received before entering the Museum, with which they were invited to form a personal file on Van Gogh. It gave an overview of what was to come and acted as a base where information could be compiled for future reference. The exhibition was divided in two areas, the first forming a moderate introduction with Van Gogh merchandise and later medical reports about his mental state. In the centre there was a large table where the visitor was asked what first comes to mind when hearing the name Van Gogh -

… Sunflowers…  The cut-off ear-tale... Theo, his brother and their correspondence... Madness… - and hereby encouraging visitors to form their own personal view on Van Gogh. What forms the basis for the familiarity with Van Gogh? This could be different for each individual. Nine options were presented in colourful sheets which visitors could use as the first step to compose a physical personal file. The exhibition continued in the next area where there was a Wall of Van Gogh-ness filled with facts about his family, fragments of his correspondence and thoughts and all sorts of material from his life, such as a copy of his neighbours’ petition which was offered to the mayor to have Van Gogh admitted to a psychiatric hospital, due to fear for their safety. Questions which were reflected in the handout formed a part of the Wall, and the public was stimulated to ponder about the possible answers presented as comprehensive yes or no ‘s in the booklet; soft whispering filled the air along Van Gogh’s Wall. Could Van Gogh’s suffering have been prevented or was it inevitable? Was it he who contributed to his own wretchedness by the habits that he had developed? Was he aware that he was perhaps pushing himself too close for too long to the thin line between realism and fantasy, hereby putting himself in a precarious position? Could suffering have a purpose? Had he (willingly?) surpassed his own boundaries in pursuit of artistic development and thus lost his way? Would he have been the Van Gogh we now know had it not been for his woe? An individual letter to Van Gogh written right then and there during the exhibition, would complete the personal File on Van Gogh. It was a chance to “directly” address Van Gogh and discuss the issues of the newly acquired insights, result of decades of research and the development of psychiatry.

There were a couple of benches which were an invitation to sit down and listen to an audio fragment, which unfortunately was not very audible due to the turbulence of other visitors. This was not entirely to my regret, as I found that instead of being drawn into the fragment of one of Van Gogh’s letters which represents his World, I was distracted by the sound of the voice. It clearly was not the voice of Van Gogh himself describing his thoughts in the letters, but that of a stranger, a voice over, an actor. I couldn’t help but wonder what Van Gogh himself would have sounded like; surely his habits of pipe smoking and consumption of absinthe would have had a considerable effect on his voice. I would have expected perhaps a more rasping, croaky sound, something that would have convinced me I was actually witnessing some of the brainstorms which were taking place in Van Gogh’s mind.

Vincent van Gogh was not just his paintings and letters; there was an entire dynamic personality leading up to his artistry.

Het Dolhuys emphasizes the fact they don’t want to draw any conclusions; they simply want to broaden the visitor’s mind and raise the awareness that there is more to madness than it initially evokes. There is still so much that is undiscovered, it is always tempting to use freshly gained knowledge on fascinating subjects. Van Gogh seems to be a source of endless interest. The exposition helped putting things in perspective; nothing seems to be set in stone, especially when done after the fact. No doubt in due time there will be another disorder discovered which fits the variety of symptoms Van Gogh had been suffering.  There simply is no way of telling what exactly was the case with Van Gogh. Bearing this journey in mind, I’m sure that my next visit to the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam will be much more intense and I wonder what will go through my mind when standing in front of his creations this time.

Het Dolhuys is a museum of psychiatry in a former madhouse from 1320 located in Haarlem (The Netherlands). Its main focus is not the collection, but rather the experience; it encourages visitors to think about the thin line between madness and what is considered normal. The museum consists of a permanent exhibition with an interactive part where visitors can test themselves, and organizes changing expositions as well.