Tetsunori Koizumi, Director

Vincent van Gogh (1853-1890) is one of the most popular painters of the nineteenth century, known for his use of vivid colors and bold strokes. He is also known to have created many “repetitions” such as the two versions of “Le Moulin de la Galette” (1886) and two versions of “Pink Peach Trees” (1888). As for the postman Joseph Roulin and his family, van Gogh did six oil paintings and three drawings of Joseph Moulin (1888-1889), painted five portraits of Madame Augustine Roulin (1888-1889), two portraits of Camille Roulin (1888), their second son, and three portraits of Baby Marcelle Roulin (1888). An exhibition called Van Gogh Repetitions (at the Phillips Collection, Washington, D.C. October 12, 2013 - January 26, 2014, and at the Cleveland Museum of Art, March 2 - May 26, 2014) takes a look at this fascinating aspect of van Gogh’s work, bringing together these and other repetitions.

Why did van Gogh create these repetitions? Before answering this question, we need first to clarify the meaning of “repetitions”. Patricia Mainardi, an art historian and a specialist on nineteenth-century art, defines “repetitions” as “additional versions of a work made by the same artist after his own work.”¹ According to this definition, van Gogh certainly created many repetitions. Why did he create them, then? Why was it necessary for him to create more than one landscape painting of a scene and more than one portrait of a person?

According to art historians who have looked into this question, van Gogh usually did the first version on site, which he called “etudes d’apres nature” (studies from nature), and created the second and other versions later in the studio after the first model. In the case of portraits, the first version was made with a person sitting as a model before creating the second and other versions in the studio. What distinguishes the later versions done in the studio from the initial version done on site or with a model is that they are more elaborate and more refined, as William H. Robinson points out in his essay included in Van Gogh Repetitions.² In the second version of “Pink Peach Trees”, for example, van Gogh added more trees and painted with finer and more uniform strokes. Thus, van Gogh did repetitions not only to reproduce copies of the initial version in the studio to exchange them with other artists or to give them as gifts to his model sitters but also to refine it with variations in the colors and compositions and with more careful and elaborate use of brushstrokes. In short, repetitions are, in the case of van Gogh, for reproduction and refinement.

Creating repetitions, to the extent that it is motivated by the desire to improve on and refine the initial version of one’s work, can be considered an act of constant practice, an act of making oneself a better artist. Aside from artistic creation, we all know that “repetitions” play an important role in the context of education as an effective method of instruction, whether in schools or monasteries. In fact, we may recall how the Buddha appealed to the frequent use of repetitions in his discourses to his monks. For example, in his discourses on the Five Aggregates, the Buddha repeats what he says about “form” with respect to the other four factors of “feeling”, “perception”, “volitional formations”, and “consciousness”, using the same expression: “Monks, form is nonself. For if, monks, form were self, this form would not lead to affliction, and it would be possible to determine form: ‘Let my form be thus; let my form not be thus.’ But because form is nonself, form leads to affliction, and it is not possible to determine form: ‘Let my form be thus; let my form not be thus.’ Feeling is nonself. … Perception is nonself. …Volitional formations are nonself. …Consciusness is nonself. …”³, where “…” indicates repetitions, except that form is replaced by feeling in the second repetition, by perception in the third, volitional formations in the fourth, and consciousness in the fifth. Of course, the Buddha could have said: “Monks, what I said about form also applies to feeling, to perception, to volitional formations, and to consciousness.” Apparently, he did not say so, judging from the way his discourses are recorded in the Nikayas. Why not, then? Why did the Buddha have to repeat the same message five times?

Considering that his teaching was done only in the form of oral transmission, it is not difficult to see why the Buddha appealed to repetitions in his discourses: as a teacher, the Buddha wanted to make sure that his students, or monks, were getting the message he wanted to convey to them by repeating it over and over again to emphasize the important points that need to be understood and learned. Indeed, we may recall how the Buddha often prefaced his discourses with these words: “Listen and attend closely to what I shall say.” For the Buddha, repetitions thus served as an effective teaching device. In short, repetitions are, in the case of the Buddha, are for reinforcement and retention.

While there are differences between van Gogh and the Buddha as to how and why repetitions were employed, there is little doubt that repetitions have an important role to play in art as well as in education. Given the fact that both van Gogh and the Buddha employed repetitions effectively, we may wonder if there is any possible link, or commonality, between them. Although his father was a minister and he himself wanted to become one at one stage in his early life, there is little information as to whether van Gogh was interested in Buddhism. Unlike Odilon Redon (1840-1916) whose portrait of the Buddha is well known among art lovers, van Gogh is not known to have created a portrait of the Buddha. If there were any possible link between them, it would have to be among his portraits of other individuals. One candidate is the second version of “Pere Tanguy”, which William Robinson describes as follows: “The owner of an art supply store and meeting place for assorted Impressionists and Post-Impressionists, Tanguy appears in both paintings sitting calmly and stoically with folded hands, as if assuming the meditative pose of a Buddha.”⁴ As one whose life was filled with pain and suffering, could van Gogh be depicting his image of serenity that comes from meditative practice in this portrait?

1.  Minardi, Patricia, “The 19^th-Cnetury Art Trade: Copies, Variations, Replicas”, Van Gogh Museum Journal, 2000, p.68.
2. William H. Robinson, “On the Origin and Evolution of Van Gogh’s Repetitions”, Rathbone, Eliza E., Robinson, William H., Steele, Elizabeth, and Steele, Marcia, Van Gogh Repetitions, New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 2013, pp.16-39.
3. Samyutta Nikaya 22:59, as translated by Bhikkhu Bodhi.
4. Van Gogh Repetitions, op.cit., p.24.

Tetsunori Koizumi, Director

Duality is a prevalent concept in science. An attempt to explain natural phenomena in terms of duality may be traced back to Aristotle when he explained the universe in terms of dual concepts of matter and forces, where matter consisted of the four elements of earth, water, air and fire, and forces of the two movements of gravity and levity. The Aristotelian idea of explaining the universe in terms of dual concepts of matter and forces was inherited by physicists, as witness the dual concepts of position and momentum employed in classical mechanics.

By far the most remarkable discovery of duality in the universe would be in the field of quantum mechanics known as the wave-particle duality. This is how that duality in quantum mechanics is explained by Stephen Hawking (1942 - ), one of the most remarkable physicists whose contributions range from cosmology to relativity to quantum mechanics: “Although light is made up of waves, Planck’s quantum hypothesis tells us that in some ways it behaves as if it were composed of particles: it can be emitted or absorbed only in packets, or quanta. Equally, Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle implies that particles behave in some respects like waves: they do not have a definite position but are ‘smeared out’ with a certain probability distribution. … There is thus a duality between waves and particles in quantum mechanics: for some purposes it is helpful to think of particles as waves and for other purposes it is better to think of waves as particles.”¹

While duality in science is regarded as a useful, even essential concept in explaining natural phenomena, duality in Buddhist thought, as represented by the idea of existence and the idea of non-existence, is regarded as a concept that needs to be avoided. In the Samyutta Nikaya, for example, the Buddha explains duality as follows: “This world, Kaccana, for the most part depends on a duality—upon the idea of existence and the idea of nonexistence. But for one who sees the origin of the world as it really is with correct wisdom, there is no idea of nonexistence in regard to the world. And for one who sees the cessation of the world as it really is with correct wisdom, there is no idea of existence in regard to the world.”²

Why are there such sharp differences in the way the concept of duality is treated in science and Buddhist thought, despite parallels and similarities that exist between the scientific and the Buddhist view of the world? We must note, in the first place, that there is a semantic difference in the use of the concept. Although the same word is used, duality in science is used in the sense of “complementarity” to refer to two aspects of the same reality. Duality in Buddhist thought, in contrast, is used in the sense of “opposition” between two views about the nature of reality such as sassatavada (eternalism) versus ucchedavada (annihilationism) and atthita (the idea of existence) versus natthita (the idea of nonexistence). The so-called Cartesian dualism originally proposed by Rene Descartes (1596-1650) can be regarded as an example from the history of science in which the concept of duality was used in the sense of “opposition”, where mind and body were regarded as referring to two separate entities. Today, of course, most scientists have abandoned the Cartesian dualism between mind and body in favor of “holism”, Paul Davies explains: “Mind and body are not two components of a duality, but two entirely different concepts drawn from different levels in a hierarchy of description.”³ In addition to a semantic difference, there is, of course, a substantive difference between science and Buddhist thought as to what duality actually refers to. While duality in science refers to features of some physical entity in nature, duality in Buddhist thought refers to features of our conceptual understanding of the world around us.

Duality in science is treated as a useful concept because it gives us a complete picture of a natural phenomenon such as the position-momentum duality in classical mechanics or the wave-particle duality in quantum mechanics. On the other hand, duality is treated as something to be avoided in Buddhist thought because it represents two opposing and extreme views about the nature of reality in the world around us. Hence, the Buddha’s recommendation of the middle way: “‘All exists’: Kaccana, this is one extreme. ‘All does not exist’: this is the second extreme. Without veering toward either of these extremes, the Tathagata teaches the Dhamma by the middle…”⁴

Since duality is to be avoided, overcoming dualistic thinking becomes an essential aspect of Buddhist practice. That practice involves, for example, from the abandoning of unwholesome thoughts connected with lobha, dosa, and moha, or “greed, hatred, and delusion” to the cultivation of samatha and vipassana, or “serenity and insight”. In any event, we will be completely liberated from duality, or dualistic thinking, only when we obtain that clarity called enlightenment, as Master Sheng-yen explains: “It is like clear vision that is completely aware of what is in front: when this clarity is perfect, it has no likes or dislikes. Why? Because the essence of this clarity is nondual and itself has no likes or dislikes. … Complete Enlightenment is universally illuminating in quiescent-extinction without duality.”⁵

1. Stephen W. Hawking, A Brief History of Time, New York: Bantam Books, 1988, p.36.
2. Bhikku Bodhi, In the Buddha’s Words: An Anthology of Discourses from the Pali Canon, Boson: Wisdom Publications, 2005, pp.356-357.
3. Davies, Paul, God and the New Physics, New York: Simon and Schuster, 1983, p.83.
4. Bhikkhu Bodhi, op.cit., p.357.
5. Master Sheng-yen, Complete Enlightenment: Zen Comments on the Sutra of Complete Enlightenment, Boston: Shambhala, 1999, p.26.