This brand-new one-person play Van Gogh and Me journeys back to 1888, tracing the charged encounter between Vincent van Gogh and Paul Gauguin in Arles. Actor Jack Ellis tells us more about the journey of this show to the Edinburgh Fringe.
“Two painters. Nine weeks. At the end, an ear is severed. This brand-new one-person play journeys back to 1888, tracing the charged encounter between Vincent van Gogh and Paul Gauguin in Arles. Jack Ellis seamlessly embodies a range of characters, exploring not only their volatile relationship but also his own lifelong obsession with the Dutch painter. Written by John Retallack and shaped around 24 paintings, the piece is darkly humorous and unflinching in its examination of how artistic ambition and fragile minds can be pushed to breaking point.”
Where: Meeting Room at Dovecot Studios
When: 13-30 Aug (not Mon)
Ticket link: https://www.edfringe.com/tickets/whats-on/van-gogh-me
What can you tell us about your show? What is it about and where did the idea come from?
Van Gogh & Me began with something very ordinary that then became a lifelong obsession. To get the full story, you have to see the play… I give no spoilers!!! Basically, I was a distracted schoolboy when I first crossed paths with Vincent Van Gogh through my art teacher. I was no good at painting, but I could look, I could listen. And I did.
So much so that shortly after, in 1973, I went to the then newly opened Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam. There, finally in front of the real thing, specifically the Studio of the South section, I found myself in floods of tears. Something weird was happening. The nine-week period at the centre of this piece is striking because it follows a short, charged, almost impossible encounter between two artists, two temperaments, two visions of what painting, and by extension art, could be. Gauguin arrives in Arles with a fairly defined artistic position, while Van Gogh is still searching for his own. Van Gogh & Me traces how this imbalance leads to the relationship’s deterioration.
This period also contains one of the most persistent elements of the Van Gogh myth: the severed ear. Something we all know about, but not its context. The play implicitly asks: what precedes such an act?
The staging is deliberately simple: twenty-three paintings, two chairs, and one actor. I took the decision to present it as a solo performance because it, quite simply, all comes from me – my thoughts, feelings and opinions. The paintings are not background images; they tell the story – in the end, they are the only direct real physical evidence we have of that time. They
are characters themselves.
Through them, the relationship that emerges is physical and situated. The performance does not “represent” Van Gogh; it is one way of encountering and trying to understand a very important moment in the history of modern art and also, hopefully, invites the audience to join in.
How would you sell it to audiences in one paragraph?
Sometimes, it only takes one image to change a life. Before the legend, before the myths, before the ear, there is me, Jack, sixteen years old, in shock in front of a painting. Van Gogh & Me begins there: at the exact moment a teenager encounters art, and something shifts inside him, and a connection is made.
From there, we step into Arles, and into nine intense weeks shared between Van Gogh and Gauguin, a fragile alliance, a creative fire, a friendship under pressure. Their story unfolds as something alive, human, and deeply uncertain. Sometimes, art isn’t just what we look at. It’s what we get pulled into.
Do you enjoy participating in the Fringe? And do you have any moments you particularly remember?
I love the Fringe. It always feels like stepping into a different reality where, for a few weeks, everything revolves around the things I care about most: theatre, people, stories, and the strange urge to turn ideas into live experiences.
I love the chaos and spontaneity of it. I love that you can stumble across absolute rubbish one minute and one of the best shows you’ve ever seen in the next. The whole city feels like a giant experiment that somehow works.
One of my favourite memories is from Berlin Berlin, when I was performing late into the night, building tents with a whole group of people, grabbing a couple of hours of sleep, and then performing the Duke in Measure for Measure at 10am the following day. At the Fringe, you can feel like you’re in two places at once: exhausted and completely alive. That’s a special feeling.
What are you looking forward to the most in Edinburgh?
Going back after 40 years as a performer, but I’m most looking forward to sharing this piece. It’s a story that’s very dear to my heart, and I genuinely think, or should I say hope, it’s one that a lot of people can connect to. The play touches on mental health, but also on the ways relationships and creative partnerships can start with such enthusiasm that then gradually fall apart. These are themes that show up in all kinds of lives and careers, not just in the arts.
What I’m especially excited about, though, is talking to people afterwards. One of the great things about the Fringe is the sheer range of people who come through the door. I’m really curious to see how different generations respond to the show, what they recognise in it, and which parts stay with them. Those conversations are often one of the best parts of the whole experience.
What’s next for the show?
Hopefully, we’ll get to take the show on the road. One of the nice things about it is that it’s surprisingly easy to tour—it’s essentially me and 23 canvases, so we can be quite flexible about where it goes. We’re already talking to a few galleries, but I can also see it working in larger venues, schools, and even unusual outdoor locations. The story is adaptable enough to live in lots of different spaces.
We’re also keen to develop workshops around the show with an educational partner. The themes of creativity, mental health, and artistic ambition seem particularly relevant for younger audiences, so it would be great to create ways for people to engage with those ideas beyond the performance itself.