The Van Gogh Museum owns more of the painter's ten working years than anywhere else: some two hundred paintings, five hundred drawings and seven hundred letters. The rooms are hung in the order the pictures were made, so the change in him happens as you walk. First the brown, thickly painted Dutch peasants. Then Paris, where the colour turns bright within months of his seeing the Impressionists. Then Arles, the asylum at Saint-Rémy, and the last summer at Auvers. He was thirty-seven when he died.
The letters are shown beside the paintings they discuss, and they change how the work reads. Most went to his brother Theo, and they deal with money, materials and what he was trying to do with a particular colour rather than with suffering. The surfaces repay a close look: the paint stands several millimetres off the canvas, and from the side you can see which way every stroke was pulled. Almond Blossom hangs on an upper floor that most visitors reach with their attention already spent, and it is calmer than anything near it.