Joy

Thumbing through my Van Gogh coffee table book a few months ago, I was startled to see a picture I recognized. Ordinarily it wouldn't be a surprise to recognize a painting of one of the world's most famous artists, but the painting was familiar for different reasons.


This is where the mystery begins. The picture is called "The Langlois Bridge" and was painted by Van Gogh in 1888. And it used to hang in my grandmother's back bedroom 20 years ago.

Now, either Joy was the proud owner of a million-dollar painting, or it was a reproduction of sorts. The former seems rather implausible. If it were the case, how did she buy it? Why did she hang it in the back bedroom, rather than in a place of honor? And where is it now? So perhaps it was indeed a replica, and not an original Van Gogh.

And yet, there's a nagging sense that the work in my memory was not a print but actual oil on canvas. Could it be a painted reproduction? Perhaps even Joy herself, who is known to have painted a ship on rough waters, was the copycat artist?

Even more significant than these musings and vexations, however, is something new I've learned about my grandmother who died nearly four years ago. She must have liked Van Gogh, either to buy a reproduction of his painting, or to spend hours doing one herself. Because Van Gogh is one of my favorite artists, the discovery of a new little connection with Joy makes me happy. (See these posts which mention her.) By the time I had reached adulthood, Joy was beginning to develop dementia; she would later progress to Alzheimers Disease. My relationship with her was, and will always be, that of child and grandmother.

And although I won't have the chance to ride the L with her, or discuss her favorite Van Gogh paintings over a cup of hot tea, or stroll through the mall with her again, I have the sense that in the same place & time, we would have been friends.