1896 Paul Gauguin autograph letter signed (ALS) to George-Daniel de Montfreid
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Autograph letter signed "Paul Gauguin", addressed from Tahiti, April 7, 1896, to "Daniel". Three sides over two pages. George-Daniel de Monfreid; French painter, friend and confidant of Gauguin. One of the first collectors of Gauguin's art during his exile in the Pacific, and one of his earliest biographers.
A superb letter of association, touching upon some of the most prominent characters in Gauguin's life. It provides evidence of his increasingly poor physical and mental state during his second residence in Tahiti. Gauguin displays a self pitying disposition, informing his friend that his goodwill will achieve nothing. The leg he broke [in Concarneau, Brittany] is causing him a great deal of pain and sleepless nights, and he complains that his "incredible [artistic] efforts" have come to nothing: "What have I come to, complete defeat .... Maybe I don't have any talent but (all vanity aside) I still believe that you don't make an artistic movement however small it is without having it, or there are a lot of crazy people." He discusses several paintings he sent to his ex-wife [Mette-Sophie Gad] and suggest his friend "Schuff" [Émile Schuffenecker] still has a weakness for her. She's "very happy having the life that suits her and very protected, very pampered by everyone. She's far from helpless while I'm on drugs." He pleads for his friends help in securing a loan from Meilleurat, offering to send a canvas as a guarantee until the debt is repaid. Gauguin bemoans that "No one ever protected me because I was believed to be strong and I was too proud. Today I am on the ground, weak, half worn out from the merciless struggle I had undertaken, I kneel down and put all pride aside. I am nothing but a failure." He ends the letter by explaining that music is his "great consolation", asking Monfreid to send him guitar strings to replace those he's lost. This is accompanied by an explanatory sketch of the the required strings.
While painting in Concarneau in 1894, Gauguin became involved in a brawl, during which he broke his ankle. The injury would plague him for the rest of his life and resulted in him walking with a slight limp. He was constantly in pain, relying on pills to relieve the symptoms, and spending days in bed. On his return to France from his first Tahitian trip in 1893, there were some hopes of a reconciliation with his wife Mette. By 1895 these had vanished after financial quarrels. Gauguin initially refused to share any part of a 13,000-franc inheritance from his uncle Isidore, but eventually gifting her a paltry 1,500 francs. Mette was outraged and from that point forward, insisted on keeping in contact with him only through Schuffenecker - this was doubly galling for Gauguin, as his good friend witnessed first hand the true extent of his betrayal. Gauguin attempts to defend his actions in this letter, arguing that "if I had sent 6,000 francs instead of 1,500 out of my uncle's 13,000 francs, what would have happened to me since today I am without resources and without the means to earn a living since my painting cannot be sold." Furthermore, it's interesting to note that Gauguin was a keen guitarist; his oil painting, The Guitar Player, was rendered in Paris, 1894.
A superb letter of association, touching upon some of the most prominent characters in Gauguin's life. It provides evidence of his increasingly poor physical and mental state during his second residence in Tahiti. Gauguin displays a self pitying disposition, informing his friend that his goodwill will achieve nothing. The leg he broke [in Concarneau, Brittany] is causing him a great deal of pain and sleepless nights, and he complains that his "incredible [artistic] efforts" have come to nothing: "What have I come to, complete defeat .... Maybe I don't have any talent but (all vanity aside) I still believe that you don't make an artistic movement however small it is without having it, or there are a lot of crazy people." He discusses several paintings he sent to his ex-wife [Mette-Sophie Gad] and suggest his friend "Schuff" [Émile Schuffenecker] still has a weakness for her. She's "very happy having the life that suits her and very protected, very pampered by everyone. She's far from helpless while I'm on drugs." He pleads for his friends help in securing a loan from Meilleurat, offering to send a canvas as a guarantee until the debt is repaid. Gauguin bemoans that "No one ever protected me because I was believed to be strong and I was too proud. Today I am on the ground, weak, half worn out from the merciless struggle I had undertaken, I kneel down and put all pride aside. I am nothing but a failure." He ends the letter by explaining that music is his "great consolation", asking Monfreid to send him guitar strings to replace those he's lost. This is accompanied by an explanatory sketch of the the required strings.
While painting in Concarneau in 1894, Gauguin became involved in a brawl, during which he broke his ankle. The injury would plague him for the rest of his life and resulted in him walking with a slight limp. He was constantly in pain, relying on pills to relieve the symptoms, and spending days in bed. On his return to France from his first Tahitian trip in 1893, there were some hopes of a reconciliation with his wife Mette. By 1895 these had vanished after financial quarrels. Gauguin initially refused to share any part of a 13,000-franc inheritance from his uncle Isidore, but eventually gifting her a paltry 1,500 francs. Mette was outraged and from that point forward, insisted on keeping in contact with him only through Schuffenecker - this was doubly galling for Gauguin, as his good friend witnessed first hand the true extent of his betrayal. Gauguin attempts to defend his actions in this letter, arguing that "if I had sent 6,000 francs instead of 1,500 out of my uncle's 13,000 francs, what would have happened to me since today I am without resources and without the means to earn a living since my painting cannot be sold." Furthermore, it's interesting to note that Gauguin was a keen guitarist; his oil painting, The Guitar Player, was rendered in Paris, 1894.
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Translated in full:
My Dear Daniel
Whatever the news, I always receive with pleasure letters from the few rare friends who think of me and in my extreme loneliness letters give pleasure. I see that you are armed with extreme goodwill, but I am afraid that you will not achieve any good, and I am not only at the end of my resources but also at the end of my strength. In the end everything wears out and my will is very weak at the moment: since my arrival my health has deteriorated every day. My square foot hurts extremely, I have two wounds that the doctor cannot fix and in hot countries it is difficult. When night comes it is an extreme tightness that drives me sleepless until midnight. Admit that my life is very cruel. During my first stay in Tahiti, I had made incredible efforts, the results of which you saw in rue Laffitte: What have I come to, complete defeat. Enemies and that’s it - the bad luck chasing me relentlessly all my life; the more I go the more I go down. Maybe I don't have any talent but (all vanity aside) I still believe that you don't make an artistic movement however small it is without having it, or there are a lot of crazy people. In short after the effort that I had made I no longer have any soap and a dress for the little one, ten francs a month. What if you saw my installation? A thatched house with a workshop window; two coconut trees carved in the shape of Canaques gods, flowering shrubs, a small shed for my carriage and a horse. Yes I have made installation expenses to no longer have to stay, to be sure to sleep at home, but who would not have done the same thing with the money that is owed to you and that we wait unnecessarily for.
You have… for the paintings sent to my wife, but poor Schuff thought he was doing well and I couldn't blame him. He still has a weakness for her and the unhappy cross. By several voices of D’Anoire I know that my wife is on the contrary very happy having the life that suits her and very protected, very pampered by everyone. She's far from helpless while I'm on drugs. But if I had sent him 6,000 francs instead of 1,500 out of my uncle's 13,000 francs, what would have happened to me since today I am without resources and without the means to earn a living since my painting cannot be sold. My wife will sell my paintings and pay for slices of butter with the money, voila - voila - on the other hand, my paintings with Danish art lovers are better placed than in a back room.
It is hard to beg - could you not see Meilleurat, show him my letter if necessary and beg him for 1000 francs which I will return to him later when the situation is resolved, I would then send him this canvas I am telling you about that he would keep? As a guarantee unless he wishes it!
Many people still find protection because they are felt to be weak and they know how to ask. No one ever protected me because I was believed to be strong and I was too proud. Today I am on the ground, weak, half worn out from the merciless struggle I had undertaken, I kneel down and put all pride aside. I am nothing but a failure.
I write Schuff a similar but much shorter letter; you know his susceptibility, so no need to show him my letter he would think you are privileged.
I see my poor Daniel that you are in trouble with your wife as well. What an institution is marriage.
Handshake to Annette, to Mailhol friends
All yours - Paul Gauguin
My great consolation is the music. I don't know how I did it but I lost my guitar strings, please send me some.
Two complete sets and in addition six d strings, six E strings, three G strings
1st class quality because here they break easily
My Dear Daniel
Whatever the news, I always receive with pleasure letters from the few rare friends who think of me and in my extreme loneliness letters give pleasure. I see that you are armed with extreme goodwill, but I am afraid that you will not achieve any good, and I am not only at the end of my resources but also at the end of my strength. In the end everything wears out and my will is very weak at the moment: since my arrival my health has deteriorated every day. My square foot hurts extremely, I have two wounds that the doctor cannot fix and in hot countries it is difficult. When night comes it is an extreme tightness that drives me sleepless until midnight. Admit that my life is very cruel. During my first stay in Tahiti, I had made incredible efforts, the results of which you saw in rue Laffitte: What have I come to, complete defeat. Enemies and that’s it - the bad luck chasing me relentlessly all my life; the more I go the more I go down. Maybe I don't have any talent but (all vanity aside) I still believe that you don't make an artistic movement however small it is without having it, or there are a lot of crazy people. In short after the effort that I had made I no longer have any soap and a dress for the little one, ten francs a month. What if you saw my installation? A thatched house with a workshop window; two coconut trees carved in the shape of Canaques gods, flowering shrubs, a small shed for my carriage and a horse. Yes I have made installation expenses to no longer have to stay, to be sure to sleep at home, but who would not have done the same thing with the money that is owed to you and that we wait unnecessarily for.
You have… for the paintings sent to my wife, but poor Schuff thought he was doing well and I couldn't blame him. He still has a weakness for her and the unhappy cross. By several voices of D’Anoire I know that my wife is on the contrary very happy having the life that suits her and very protected, very pampered by everyone. She's far from helpless while I'm on drugs. But if I had sent him 6,000 francs instead of 1,500 out of my uncle's 13,000 francs, what would have happened to me since today I am without resources and without the means to earn a living since my painting cannot be sold. My wife will sell my paintings and pay for slices of butter with the money, voila - voila - on the other hand, my paintings with Danish art lovers are better placed than in a back room.
It is hard to beg - could you not see Meilleurat, show him my letter if necessary and beg him for 1000 francs which I will return to him later when the situation is resolved, I would then send him this canvas I am telling you about that he would keep? As a guarantee unless he wishes it!
Many people still find protection because they are felt to be weak and they know how to ask. No one ever protected me because I was believed to be strong and I was too proud. Today I am on the ground, weak, half worn out from the merciless struggle I had undertaken, I kneel down and put all pride aside. I am nothing but a failure.
I write Schuff a similar but much shorter letter; you know his susceptibility, so no need to show him my letter he would think you are privileged.
I see my poor Daniel that you are in trouble with your wife as well. What an institution is marriage.
Handshake to Annette, to Mailhol friends
All yours - Paul Gauguin
My great consolation is the music. I don't know how I did it but I lost my guitar strings, please send me some.
Two complete sets and in addition six d strings, six E strings, three G strings
1st class quality because here they break easily