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Van Gogh Has a Broken Heart: What Art Teaches Us About the Wonder and Struggle of Being Alive
Beyond a mere introduction to great art, Van Gogh Has a Broken Heart is about loving to learn what art has to teach us about the wonder and struggle of being alive.
Did you know that:
Vincent van Gogh's attempt to start an artist's colony with Paul Gauguin lasted only nine weeks, ending in his infamous "ear episode"?
Pablo Picasso was a prime suspect in the disappearance of the Mona Lisa?
Artemisia Gentileschi was tortured with thumbscrews to verify her testimony at her own rapist's trial?
Norman Rockwell's critics said his work would never be accepted as "high art"--and he agreed?
These stories--and many more--shaped the work these artists left behind. In their art are lessons common to the human experience about the wonder and struggle of being alive: dreams lost, perspectives changed, and humility derived through suffering.
In Van Gogh Has a Broken Heart, Russ Ramsey digs into these artists' stories for readers who may be new to art, as well as for lifelong students of art history, to mine the transcendent beauty and hard lessons we can take from their masterpieces and their lives. Each story from some of the history's most celebrated artists applies the beauty of the gospel in a way that speaks to the suffering and hope we all face.
Did you know that:
Vincent van Gogh's attempt to start an artist's colony with Paul Gauguin lasted only nine weeks, ending in his infamous "ear episode"?
Pablo Picasso was a prime suspect in the disappearance of the Mona Lisa?
Artemisia Gentileschi was tortured with thumbscrews to verify her testimony at her own rapist's trial?
Norman Rockwell's critics said his work would never be accepted as "high art"--and he agreed?
These stories--and many more--shaped the work these artists left behind. In their art are lessons common to the human experience about the wonder and struggle of being alive: dreams lost, perspectives changed, and humility derived through suffering.
In Van Gogh Has a Broken Heart, Russ Ramsey digs into these artists' stories for readers who may be new to art, as well as for lifelong students of art history, to mine the transcendent beauty and hard lessons we can take from their masterpieces and their lives. Each story from some of the history's most celebrated artists applies the beauty of the gospel in a way that speaks to the suffering and hope we all face.
244 pages, Hardcover
First published October 22, 2024
521 people are currently reading
12887 people want to read
About the author
Russ Ramsey
16 books263 followersRuss Ramsey and his wife and four children make their home in Nashville, Tennessee. He is a pastor at Christ Presbyterian Church and the author of Struck: One Christian’s Reflections on Encountering Death (IVP, 2017), Behold the Lamb of God: An Advent Narrative, and Behold the King of Glory: A Narrative of the Life, Death, and Resurrection of Jesus Christ. He is a graduate of Taylor University (1991) and Covenant Theological Seminary (MDiv, 2000; ThM, 2003). Follow Russ on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 449 reviews
December 11, 2024
I think I may have liked this even more than Rembrandt is in the Wind.
May 16, 2025
I’m sure there are faults with it, but I enjoyed it too much not to give it five stars. I read it slowly, no more than a chapter per day (when I picked it up). Each chapter led me down a road of researching further the artists and works he was writing about. Ramsey has led me to appreciate art more than I ever thought possible. I can’t help but feeling like a novice still, but this book could set me on a new trajectory, and I hope this newfound appreciation stays.
My favorite chapters were the ones on Norman Rockwell, the Mona Lisa (being stolen), and William Turner—but Rockwell’s chapter takes the cake.
If I were to buy any piece of art after reading this, though, it’d be Rembrandt’s “Jeremiah Lamenting the Destruction of Jerusalem.” I’m a sucker for art that helps tell the story of ministry’s joy and difficulty. (Update: I bought it.)
There are nice reproductions of all the works he writes about in the middle of the book (in color).
If you’re a pastor, read it for the illustrations you’ll find.
My favorite chapters were the ones on Norman Rockwell, the Mona Lisa (being stolen), and William Turner—but Rockwell’s chapter takes the cake.
If I were to buy any piece of art after reading this, though, it’d be Rembrandt’s “Jeremiah Lamenting the Destruction of Jerusalem.” I’m a sucker for art that helps tell the story of ministry’s joy and difficulty. (Update: I bought it.)
There are nice reproductions of all the works he writes about in the middle of the book (in color).
If you’re a pastor, read it for the illustrations you’ll find.
October 31, 2024
Ramsey has given us another great book on art history in the Christian life. He has selected 11 artists, within a vast timespan, to describe their suffering and balanced that with biblical teaching. The book felt pastoral in approach which I enjoyed as the reader. The chapter on Rembrandt’s life helped this master artist feel a little more human to me. In this book, the new artist to me was Artemisia Gentileschi and I was moved by her story. Personally, I liked the chapters on Van Gogh and Degas – how they continued to create masterpieces despite chronic illnesses. How turmoil can be peaceful. How blurry can be beauty. The story of Ramsey and his daughter in the Rijksmuseum was so sweet and I can relate to the reaction he had – art totally influences my emotions. I like how he talked about having personal connections with pieces of art – mine are pieces of Rothko and Guercino. I like that in both books he gives advice on developing your art appreciation.
January 18, 2025
Ramsey is a pastor and a lover of art, and here he takes us on a personal museum tour, showing us some of his favorite pieces and explaining why they are meaningful to him. Each chapter focuses on a particular artist and provides a biographical sketch and a discussion about specific works. As an art novice who has read a handful of books about paintings, I found these stories of the artists and discussions about their works revelatory and often quite moving. Overall, this is a profound exposition on the power of art, and how it can illuminate some of what is most important in life.
For an overview of the topics and artists discussed, here’s the table of contents:
1. Something Utterly Heartbroken
Gustave Doré and the Beauty of Sad Stories in a Complicated World
2. Owning Mona Lisa
Leonardo's Masterpiece and the Desire to Possess More Than Life Can Give
3. Now Let Your Servant Go in Peace
Rembrandt's Simeon in the Temple and the Power of Suffering
4. The Allegory of Painting
Artemisia Gentileschi and Inhabiting a Discipline in an Unjust World
5. Keep Them Together
Joseph Mallord William Turner and the Evolution of an Inner Life
6. A Sort of Delightful Horror
The Hudson River School, the Beautiful, and the Sublime
7. The Yellow House
Vincent van Gogh, Paul Gauguin, and the Sacred Work of Stewarding Another's Pain
8. Cultivate Your Own Half Acre
Norman Rockwell and Capturing a Changing Country
9. Through a Glass Darkly
Jimmy Abegg, Edgar Degas, and Learning to See as the World Grows Dim
10. Our Personal Collections
Jeremiah's Lament, the Works We Carry, and the Words on Which We Rest
Appendices:
1. I Don't Like Donatello, and You Can Too…
2. A Beginner's Guide to Symbols in Art
3. Lost, Stolen, and Recovered Art
So overall, highly recommended.
And thank you to Belinda for finding and giving me a book that I loved that hadn’t even been on my radar!
For an overview of the topics and artists discussed, here’s the table of contents:
1. Something Utterly Heartbroken
Gustave Doré and the Beauty of Sad Stories in a Complicated World
2. Owning Mona Lisa
Leonardo's Masterpiece and the Desire to Possess More Than Life Can Give
3. Now Let Your Servant Go in Peace
Rembrandt's Simeon in the Temple and the Power of Suffering
4. The Allegory of Painting
Artemisia Gentileschi and Inhabiting a Discipline in an Unjust World
5. Keep Them Together
Joseph Mallord William Turner and the Evolution of an Inner Life
6. A Sort of Delightful Horror
The Hudson River School, the Beautiful, and the Sublime
7. The Yellow House
Vincent van Gogh, Paul Gauguin, and the Sacred Work of Stewarding Another's Pain
8. Cultivate Your Own Half Acre
Norman Rockwell and Capturing a Changing Country
9. Through a Glass Darkly
Jimmy Abegg, Edgar Degas, and Learning to See as the World Grows Dim
10. Our Personal Collections
Jeremiah's Lament, the Works We Carry, and the Words on Which We Rest
Appendices:
1. I Don't Like Donatello, and You Can Too…
2. A Beginner's Guide to Symbols in Art
3. Lost, Stolen, and Recovered Art
So overall, highly recommended.
And thank you to Belinda for finding and giving me a book that I loved that hadn’t even been on my radar!
April 9, 2025
Ramsey has fundamentally changed how I will look at art and understand artists.
And I’m glad.
Loving art comes naturally to me. But seeing it as a reflection of the pain and hope built into every human – through stories from the lives of artists such as Degas, Van Gogh and Rockwell – was eye-opening on another level.
“Art shows us back to ourselves and the best art doesn’t flinch or look away. Rather, it acknowledges the complexity of struggles like poverty, weariness, and grief while defiantly holding forth beauty – reminding us that beauty is both scarce and everywhere we look.”
Ramsey’s premise is that the greatest art often reaches us at the price of intense sorrow and struggle. And he demonstrates how perfectly that fact meshes with the gospel – our built-in longing for the sublime, which only grows stronger as we move through life’s crushing pains.
“The blessing of suffering is that it strips away any pretense of not needing God or others,” Ramsey writes. “Our sorrows, failures, and afflictions are sacred, not shameful, because they tell the truth about our need for redeeming grace and mercy.”
(Brace yourself for some extended quotes. This is heady stuff and I want to do it enough justice to send you running for the book.)
I loved this passage, from a section on the Hudson River School movement, about a treacherous hike.
“And when the hike is over, we’ll return for the latitudes of home, relieved not only that we experienced such beauty in nature, but that we survived it. And when we look back over the pictures we took, they will fail to illustrate what we actually beheld or convey what we experienced. Part of what we experience may in fact feel a little like sorrow, or soul-level pain. …
“In other words, we are pained that we cannot describe or even comprehend the wonder we’re beholding, and we’re aware that this is because there is something in us that is unable to behold the glory in full. Yet at the same time, we are overwhelmed because there is also something in us that suspects we were made to exist in such splendor.”
In a world before ubiquitous cameras and instantaneous sharing, the landscapes that painters brought back from the western United States presented a wild, untamed region waiting to be explored. But some artists dared to show the truth about what else they saw – thriving indigenous communities.
“Their customs, their dress, their tepees, their diet, their traditions, their agricultural and hunting practices, and their approach to the changing seasons were not primitive, but sophisticated. They were elegantly suited to the land and attuned to their communal needs as a people. Their approach was minimal because the land was abundant. It was portable because the seasons changed. It was durable because the weather demanded it. They were not trying to subdue the sublime, but to live within its limits – and the limits were extreme.”
The chapter on Van Gogh was heartbreaking. I felt keenly Ramsey’s call to stop using “one of the lowest points in an already tortured soul’s life” as a joke on mugs and calendars.
“We are not our worst moments or our biggest failures. It teaches us the sacred work of stewarding another’s pain. And it bids us, ‘Be gentle. This is a hard world.’”
He isn’t suggesting looking away. The opposite, in fact!
“We can seek to know the beauty they’re contributing to the world, made even more beautiful by the way it kicks against the darkness in them. We can join them in this, thereby making beauty of our own.”
I’m willing to bet most people have the impression of Norman Rockwell that endless collector plates and coffee table books have fostered: Wit, charm, sweetness.
But I loved how Ramsey shows Rockwell’s brutal honesty as well, in works he sometimes fought to publish.
“Rockwell knew he had changed, and the world with him. He learned as he went and showed America back to us. Beautiful and terribles thing happen all around us. And in us. Long to know the story, and as you learn it, tell the truth.”
And Degas, with his failing eyesight. An artist going blind. How did I never know this?
Ramsey takes time to explain both the progression in the artist’s work and his disease.
“The second painting isn’t different because Degas wanted to experiment with a new technique; it is different because he couldn’t see anymore.”
Making art by muscle memory and mental pictures – astonishing.
I loved Ramsey’s broader conclusions in this chapter.
“There are things I see now that I never would have been able to understand when I was younger. I hadn’t lived enough. I hadn’t suffered enough. I wasn’t openhanded enough. I don’t see the world the same way as I did when I was younger. Even if I tried, I doubt I could. Our vision changes over time.”
I have had a few times in my life when I experienced what Ramsey describes in a gallery with his daughter: "There’s nothing like walking around the corner in an unfamiliar gallery and seeing a familiar painting for the first time, not knowing I would be in the same room with it. It’s exhilarating.”
While this is not a textbook or guidebook, I think anyone who’s not a trained artist will learn from his ideas about approaching both beloved and confusing art.
“The goal here is not to learn to like everything you find off-putting; it’s to come to art with a posture of openness, wiling to learn and grow. As you cultivate that posture of humility when it comes to art, you’ll discover that you’re cultivating it in other areas of life too. In a world short on humility and teachability, this is a worthy endeavor.”
And I’m glad.
Loving art comes naturally to me. But seeing it as a reflection of the pain and hope built into every human – through stories from the lives of artists such as Degas, Van Gogh and Rockwell – was eye-opening on another level.
“Art shows us back to ourselves and the best art doesn’t flinch or look away. Rather, it acknowledges the complexity of struggles like poverty, weariness, and grief while defiantly holding forth beauty – reminding us that beauty is both scarce and everywhere we look.”
Ramsey’s premise is that the greatest art often reaches us at the price of intense sorrow and struggle. And he demonstrates how perfectly that fact meshes with the gospel – our built-in longing for the sublime, which only grows stronger as we move through life’s crushing pains.
“The blessing of suffering is that it strips away any pretense of not needing God or others,” Ramsey writes. “Our sorrows, failures, and afflictions are sacred, not shameful, because they tell the truth about our need for redeeming grace and mercy.”
(Brace yourself for some extended quotes. This is heady stuff and I want to do it enough justice to send you running for the book.)
I loved this passage, from a section on the Hudson River School movement, about a treacherous hike.
“And when the hike is over, we’ll return for the latitudes of home, relieved not only that we experienced such beauty in nature, but that we survived it. And when we look back over the pictures we took, they will fail to illustrate what we actually beheld or convey what we experienced. Part of what we experience may in fact feel a little like sorrow, or soul-level pain. …
“In other words, we are pained that we cannot describe or even comprehend the wonder we’re beholding, and we’re aware that this is because there is something in us that is unable to behold the glory in full. Yet at the same time, we are overwhelmed because there is also something in us that suspects we were made to exist in such splendor.”
In a world before ubiquitous cameras and instantaneous sharing, the landscapes that painters brought back from the western United States presented a wild, untamed region waiting to be explored. But some artists dared to show the truth about what else they saw – thriving indigenous communities.
“Their customs, their dress, their tepees, their diet, their traditions, their agricultural and hunting practices, and their approach to the changing seasons were not primitive, but sophisticated. They were elegantly suited to the land and attuned to their communal needs as a people. Their approach was minimal because the land was abundant. It was portable because the seasons changed. It was durable because the weather demanded it. They were not trying to subdue the sublime, but to live within its limits – and the limits were extreme.”
The chapter on Van Gogh was heartbreaking. I felt keenly Ramsey’s call to stop using “one of the lowest points in an already tortured soul’s life” as a joke on mugs and calendars.
“We are not our worst moments or our biggest failures. It teaches us the sacred work of stewarding another’s pain. And it bids us, ‘Be gentle. This is a hard world.’”
He isn’t suggesting looking away. The opposite, in fact!
“We can seek to know the beauty they’re contributing to the world, made even more beautiful by the way it kicks against the darkness in them. We can join them in this, thereby making beauty of our own.”
I’m willing to bet most people have the impression of Norman Rockwell that endless collector plates and coffee table books have fostered: Wit, charm, sweetness.
But I loved how Ramsey shows Rockwell’s brutal honesty as well, in works he sometimes fought to publish.
“Rockwell knew he had changed, and the world with him. He learned as he went and showed America back to us. Beautiful and terribles thing happen all around us. And in us. Long to know the story, and as you learn it, tell the truth.”
And Degas, with his failing eyesight. An artist going blind. How did I never know this?
Ramsey takes time to explain both the progression in the artist’s work and his disease.
“The second painting isn’t different because Degas wanted to experiment with a new technique; it is different because he couldn’t see anymore.”
Making art by muscle memory and mental pictures – astonishing.
I loved Ramsey’s broader conclusions in this chapter.
“There are things I see now that I never would have been able to understand when I was younger. I hadn’t lived enough. I hadn’t suffered enough. I wasn’t openhanded enough. I don’t see the world the same way as I did when I was younger. Even if I tried, I doubt I could. Our vision changes over time.”
I have had a few times in my life when I experienced what Ramsey describes in a gallery with his daughter: "There’s nothing like walking around the corner in an unfamiliar gallery and seeing a familiar painting for the first time, not knowing I would be in the same room with it. It’s exhilarating.”
While this is not a textbook or guidebook, I think anyone who’s not a trained artist will learn from his ideas about approaching both beloved and confusing art.
“The goal here is not to learn to like everything you find off-putting; it’s to come to art with a posture of openness, wiling to learn and grow. As you cultivate that posture of humility when it comes to art, you’ll discover that you’re cultivating it in other areas of life too. In a world short on humility and teachability, this is a worthy endeavor.”
November 22, 2024
I am far from artistic, but I have a life-long love of beauty. Vincent van Gogh has been a big part of that love. This book only has one small - and heartbreaking - chapter about him which was a disappointment. The other featured art and artists were often not familiar to me and the author's conclusions about them unsatisfying, yet I enjoyed this very much due to discussions with my friend Elizabeth who also has a learn for art and learning. Thanks, Elizabeth, for helping me see better!
October 2, 2025
I keep trying to write a review for this book, but I’m struggling to put it into words without sounding trite.
Let’s just say, I think I I liked this one even more than “Rembrandt is in the Wind”, and I gave that book five stars. Probably because there’s certain parts of our hearts that can only be touched by sad and broken stories. Russ Ramsey handles these stories with gentleness, wisdom, and personal honesty…while always pulling us towards the light.
Let’s just say, I think I I liked this one even more than “Rembrandt is in the Wind”, and I gave that book five stars. Probably because there’s certain parts of our hearts that can only be touched by sad and broken stories. Russ Ramsey handles these stories with gentleness, wisdom, and personal honesty…while always pulling us towards the light.
March 15, 2025
The Blue Ridge Mountains are in the background as I wrote this review. It seems fitting to write a review on a book about art while beholding the masterpiece of the highest and most supreme artist in all of existence… God.
There is so much I could say but I think it best to just note how this book has affected me.
Simply put this book made me love art. Prior to reading this book I didn’t understand how a person’s heart could be stirred with affection by simply looking at a painting. But this book truly changed that in me.
Sense I began reading this book. I have replaced scrolling on my phone with looking at screen copies of Rembrandt, William Turner, and Norman Rockwell paintings. When I look at a piece of art I feel that I’m able to witness a spiritual open heart surgery and discover the depths of their human experience.
I go to art museums now and get giddy with excitement on my way there. this used to only really happen with Netflix.
I don’t remember the last time I was weeping while reading a book. And that was a regular occurrence through my journey of this volume.
From now on, I will probably just make it a standard practice to pick up whatever Russ Ramsey writes. This book went in my top five of all time.
Just read it; it’s worth it. 5/5
There is so much I could say but I think it best to just note how this book has affected me.
Simply put this book made me love art. Prior to reading this book I didn’t understand how a person’s heart could be stirred with affection by simply looking at a painting. But this book truly changed that in me.
Sense I began reading this book. I have replaced scrolling on my phone with looking at screen copies of Rembrandt, William Turner, and Norman Rockwell paintings. When I look at a piece of art I feel that I’m able to witness a spiritual open heart surgery and discover the depths of their human experience.
I go to art museums now and get giddy with excitement on my way there. this used to only really happen with Netflix.
I don’t remember the last time I was weeping while reading a book. And that was a regular occurrence through my journey of this volume.
From now on, I will probably just make it a standard practice to pick up whatever Russ Ramsey writes. This book went in my top five of all time.
Just read it; it’s worth it. 5/5
May 11, 2025
Would give it ten stars if I could. Similar to Rembrandt is in the Wind from the same author, but I may have loved this even more.
My favorite chapters/takeaways:
Rembrandt-suffering brings us to intimacy with the Savior.
Van Gogh-life is hard, be gentle. We are all more than our worst moments.
Norman Rockwell-we are more than the idealized versions of ourselves; we are a story that develops over time.
But seriously, every chapter is a masterpiece.
If it’s possible, it is definitely worth having a hard copy of this so you can enjoy the colored pages with the paintings mentioned.
Bye, going to visit a museum now 👋
My favorite chapters/takeaways:
Rembrandt-suffering brings us to intimacy with the Savior.
Van Gogh-life is hard, be gentle. We are all more than our worst moments.
Norman Rockwell-we are more than the idealized versions of ourselves; we are a story that develops over time.
But seriously, every chapter is a masterpiece.
If it’s possible, it is definitely worth having a hard copy of this so you can enjoy the colored pages with the paintings mentioned.
Bye, going to visit a museum now 👋
December 2, 2024
I bought this book because Van Gogh is one of my favorite artists. I was expecting this to be more of an art history book through the viewpoint of how the artists struggles impacted their body of work, and this book was not it. The book is mostly the author’s own personal experience with viewing artists work that have impacted his life and how it relates to his religion. Then add in some fictional storytelling and just the smallest dash of art history, and viola!-this is what you get. As someone with a BA in Art History, this was a disappointing read.
Read
March 5, 2026"Art leads us into our most tender thoughts. It invites us to hold with an open hand the things we're learning about our pain and trials...Even in our places of deepest lament, hope is there, and art plays a role in stirring that longing" (Ramsey, 183).
This line sums up how I experienced Ramsey's writing and the beautiful art he talks about. I loved Ramsey's other book Rembrandt is in the Wind, but I think I liked this one better. I could read this guy's writing forever.
I choked up throughout this book as I reflected with Ramsey on suffering, death, mortality. He helped name some inchoate feelings and instincts I've been experiencing lately. This book is a real gift. I strongly recommend it.
December 29, 2024
Russ did it again. I am seeing the world in a new way through the beauty and tragedy of what art can teach me. Thank you.
January 2, 2026
Beautiful, poetic, and educational. The chapter on Van gogh stirred emotions deep within me. In some ways, I didn't have such a strong gushing love for it as I did for Rembrandt is in the Wind; instead, it was more of a deep, settled enjoyment. Highly recommend
June 30, 2025
Review Coming! So many thoughts!!
October 11, 2025
Stellar. Restful. Enjoyable. No notes.
If anyone has any art book suggestions, please send them my way.
If anyone has any art book suggestions, please send them my way.
February 27, 2025
This book is more sober and serious than the previous volume, but nonetheless an excellent read. I didn't enjoy it quite as much as it was different in quality as well. Many times the writing felt a bit rushed or just not as thoroughly polished, and instead of a chapter per artist, it was a painting or a group of artists, so it had a very different vibe. Still a great book though and well worth reading! Just keep in mind it may bring you to tears.
November 13, 2024
Had to sit on this one for a bit before I could come up with the words and I'm not sure I fully have them yet. I found myself crying by the foreword, so I knew I was in for it.
Ramsey has a way of writing that makes it feel like you are sitting down to a cup of coffee with an old friend, listening to their passions and adopting interests from them. As a fellow lover of art history and faith, I find works like this to be vital in my own spiritual growth and understanding of the Lord. I was lucky enough to attend a conference last year where he shared the story of Van Gogh, and reading it again was so refreshing. I have always wept when I think of Van Gogh, and this was yet another gentle reminder of the weight it is to share burdens with one another.
Looking at artists as people, hearing the stories that have produced art for us to look at and ponder shows the need for community that loves and cares for one another. Degas losing vision, and the slow dissent he finds himself in is a picture of what it means to lose something and gain another. "Seeing through our suffering won't show us a new world, but it will show us more of the world we think we already know."
Seeing people as people and not their pain or worst moments is vital in learning to love people well. When you think of Van Gogh, remember him well. Think of the beauty he offered and the pain he gifted us to hold in kind hands, not as the man who is missing a piece of himself but as one who chose to share it with another.
"To truly love someone is to move beyond first impressions into the heart of things; it is to take on the sacred work of stewarding another's joys and sorrows. It is to show up for their celebrations and invite them to yours. It is to sit with them when they're sick, nurse them until they are better, and lean on them when you're the one who is hurting. Is there a more sacred calling? To really know a person is to know them by their sorrows."
Ramsey has a way of writing that makes it feel like you are sitting down to a cup of coffee with an old friend, listening to their passions and adopting interests from them. As a fellow lover of art history and faith, I find works like this to be vital in my own spiritual growth and understanding of the Lord. I was lucky enough to attend a conference last year where he shared the story of Van Gogh, and reading it again was so refreshing. I have always wept when I think of Van Gogh, and this was yet another gentle reminder of the weight it is to share burdens with one another.
Looking at artists as people, hearing the stories that have produced art for us to look at and ponder shows the need for community that loves and cares for one another. Degas losing vision, and the slow dissent he finds himself in is a picture of what it means to lose something and gain another. "Seeing through our suffering won't show us a new world, but it will show us more of the world we think we already know."
Seeing people as people and not their pain or worst moments is vital in learning to love people well. When you think of Van Gogh, remember him well. Think of the beauty he offered and the pain he gifted us to hold in kind hands, not as the man who is missing a piece of himself but as one who chose to share it with another.
"To truly love someone is to move beyond first impressions into the heart of things; it is to take on the sacred work of stewarding another's joys and sorrows. It is to show up for their celebrations and invite them to yours. It is to sit with them when they're sick, nurse them until they are better, and lean on them when you're the one who is hurting. Is there a more sacred calling? To really know a person is to know them by their sorrows."
April 2, 2025
Ok I really wanted to enjoy this book with its stories about artists. Starting out could have done without the explicit opinions of one worldview but kept going. Was doing fine until I got to the chapter where he talks about a female artist who survived sexual assault in the Middle Ages and then had paintings later basically depicting men getting justice for sexual crimes. So then this dude feels the need to start saying- well, we don’t know if she was really trying to use her art to speak out against that, people back then saw things differently and we shouldn’t impose our modern views (presumably our views on sexual assault and women’s rights??) onto her- blah blah blah. I do not know what his issue is but I’m pretty sure any woman sexually assaulted in any century had trauma from that and as her art does depict violence happening to other men who had hurt women it doesn’t seem like “imposing modern interpretation” onto her to speculate there was a connection. And his completely unnecessary comments about it fall in a vacuum of silence as I doubt anyone will remember his name in 300 years compared to her enduring legacy, thank goodness. No need for more of this drivel thank you.
August 23, 2024
4.5. Poignant.
December 16, 2024
this book puts words to much of why i love art and somehow find it so completely essential and captivating even when it feels entirely pointless.
ramsey puts words to our longings and desires for the assurance that the world we live in is meaningful, that beauty is founded, that God is not only good but gloriously so. his words gave me encouragement to rest in that ultimate peace that often feels so difficult to grasp: He is restoring the years the locusts have eaten. He is not threatened by death in His creation of beauty.
“the goal of suffering well is to move us not only beyond the stick figures, but also from a place of pride to one of intimacy and familiarity with our Lord. it is to move us not from crude to eloquent, but from unfamiliar to intimate. this is why we practice spiritual disciplines.”
“no painter before had given color such resolute autonomy.”
“as human beings, we relate to the hope of the unexplored, the possibility of new beginnings, the economy of leaving everything behind except what we can carry in our hands. we come to know the sorrow of saying goodbye.”
“the aim of art is to prepare a person for death, to plough and harrow his soul, rendering it capable of turning to good.”
“many artists live at the river’s edge. their work explores the perilous seam where suffering falls off into despair, where affection wells up into passion, where the winds of heaven blow through the stuff of earth.”
ramsey puts words to our longings and desires for the assurance that the world we live in is meaningful, that beauty is founded, that God is not only good but gloriously so. his words gave me encouragement to rest in that ultimate peace that often feels so difficult to grasp: He is restoring the years the locusts have eaten. He is not threatened by death in His creation of beauty.
“the goal of suffering well is to move us not only beyond the stick figures, but also from a place of pride to one of intimacy and familiarity with our Lord. it is to move us not from crude to eloquent, but from unfamiliar to intimate. this is why we practice spiritual disciplines.”
“no painter before had given color such resolute autonomy.”
“as human beings, we relate to the hope of the unexplored, the possibility of new beginnings, the economy of leaving everything behind except what we can carry in our hands. we come to know the sorrow of saying goodbye.”
“the aim of art is to prepare a person for death, to plough and harrow his soul, rendering it capable of turning to good.”
“many artists live at the river’s edge. their work explores the perilous seam where suffering falls off into despair, where affection wells up into passion, where the winds of heaven blow through the stuff of earth.”
January 17, 2025
The content of this book is wonderful. My refusal to give 5 stars has everything to do with the printing, image organization, and paper quality. It’s a book on art and beauty…the materials should reflect that!
January 20, 2025
Loved this one more than the first in the series ("Rembrandt is in the Wind"). It's deeper, more thoughtful, and really met me where I am right now. Highly recommend.
August 30, 2025
I know it’s cliche to say a book can soothe the soul, but this book certainly did for me.
March 5, 2025
A lovely collection of biographical sketches mixed with art history and Bible devotions. I feel both smarter and more in touch with my emotions and soul after reading this.
January 27, 2026
Excellent.
November 24, 2024
My friend Lisa and I serendipitously fell into buddy reading this and what a treat! I’m so grateful for the conversations we had that helped me pull passages of the book into my heart. This is a tough read at times because the artists Ramsey covers suffered, sometimes through outward circumstances and sometimes through their own brokenness. We both found the content about Van Gogh particularly moving and the title sums his story up well. He had a broken heart but he certainly had a heart to break. Lisa pointed out how much longing Van Gogh had to be in community and to echo the beauty he saw in the world. That takes so much heart!
How does any human bear the good and the bad in our own hearts and in the world? The story isn’t complete without both. In the light of this, one of my favorite chapters was about Norman Rockwell. So much of his art is full of humor, goodness, simple joys, etc. His choice to create art later in his life that portrayed the horror of racism and the bravery of those fighting for civil rights was hard for some folks to swallow. But all his art is true and he was fully human enough to paint it all. The wonder and struggle of being alive indeed.
The early chapters of Luke have long been my favorite in Scripture, in part because I am strongly attached to the faithful woman who bore my name. I’ve also long loved the story of Simeon and Anna so I also particularly loved the chapter about Rembrandt and his painting ‘Simeon in the Temple’. This is a painting that will go into my “personal collection”, as Ramsey calls the paintings that become part of who we are as humans. The beauty of the painting and its connection to Rembrandt’s own story makes me glad to learn about artists themselves even though it’s not necessary to behold the art itself.
My third favorite chapter was about Artemisia Gentileschi, whom I had never heard of. The chapter was hard to read but Ramsey’s reflections about her self portrait were fascinating. I’ll have to return to that section because it was over my head.
Though I prefer Ramsey’s first book overall (this one didn’t hang together as a whole as well), I still recommend this very much. Ramsey is such a kind and knowledgeable guide to those of us new to the power and craft of fine art.
How does any human bear the good and the bad in our own hearts and in the world? The story isn’t complete without both. In the light of this, one of my favorite chapters was about Norman Rockwell. So much of his art is full of humor, goodness, simple joys, etc. His choice to create art later in his life that portrayed the horror of racism and the bravery of those fighting for civil rights was hard for some folks to swallow. But all his art is true and he was fully human enough to paint it all. The wonder and struggle of being alive indeed.
The early chapters of Luke have long been my favorite in Scripture, in part because I am strongly attached to the faithful woman who bore my name. I’ve also long loved the story of Simeon and Anna so I also particularly loved the chapter about Rembrandt and his painting ‘Simeon in the Temple’. This is a painting that will go into my “personal collection”, as Ramsey calls the paintings that become part of who we are as humans. The beauty of the painting and its connection to Rembrandt’s own story makes me glad to learn about artists themselves even though it’s not necessary to behold the art itself.
My third favorite chapter was about Artemisia Gentileschi, whom I had never heard of. The chapter was hard to read but Ramsey’s reflections about her self portrait were fascinating. I’ll have to return to that section because it was over my head.
Though I prefer Ramsey’s first book overall (this one didn’t hang together as a whole as well), I still recommend this very much. Ramsey is such a kind and knowledgeable guide to those of us new to the power and craft of fine art.
December 1, 2025
I’ve always felt that I often hear the voice of God in secular art, music, and people more clearly than through media that is explicitly Christian. This book helped me verbalize this sentiment in ways I’ve never been able to and it shows us how to see Him not only in the world’s most renowned fine art, but also in the people around us and in the mundane.
January 19, 2026
This was a delightful read! It was so interesting to learn more about some of my favorite artists and their pieces and to discover new ones as well. I loved Ramsey’s accesible approach to art and his thoughts on life, suffering, and faith. Beauty is so often a byproduct of brokenness and suffering and art gives us one way to process that.
January 5, 2025
Notable quotations:
“Affliction stirs us awake to things we might not have seen otherwise… I do not want to simply endure the afflictions that come my way; I want to find God in them.”
“Even in our places of deepest lament, hope is there, and art plays a role in stirring that longing.”
Just an informative and fascinating as Rembrandt is in the Wind, yet deeply personal, Ramsey stirred in me once again a desire to appreciate artwork.
“Affliction stirs us awake to things we might not have seen otherwise… I do not want to simply endure the afflictions that come my way; I want to find God in them.”
“Even in our places of deepest lament, hope is there, and art plays a role in stirring that longing.”
Just an informative and fascinating as Rembrandt is in the Wind, yet deeply personal, Ramsey stirred in me once again a desire to appreciate artwork.
February 12, 2026
I have so many thoughts to share about this book that I am not sure where to start with what I want to say. I can't now remember how I found this, or where I saw the title first, but anything to do with van Gogh is going to grab my attention, and I love to read about people's response to art and feel it vibe with my own deeply held feelings about the power of artistic expression.
What I didn't quite realize was that the author is a Christian pastor and that the structure of the book would include specific focus on different aspects of Christian discipleship. While these are very important principles to me as a fellow Christian, I have a sometimes-uneasy relationship with the more evangelical segments of the Christian spectrum, and worried that I might have stumbled into something that I wouldn't like—not because of the beliefs or feeling expressed, but the expression of them. Which might tell you something about me.
I needn't have worried. Ramsey is a deeply introspective and thoughtful person and writer, and each artist or body of work that he explores is neatly paired with a corresponding principle of Christian life, without tweeness or excessive evangelizing, either. He presents his own experiences, coupled with art historical and biographic details, to tell compelling and moving stories. I learned a lot about some of these artists with whom I've been familiar for as long as I can remember. There is an authorial gaze that is so compassionate and understanding that it is moving in and of itself, and I found myself deeply emotional at times.
The standout portion for me is his chapter on van Gogh, focusing on his time in the south of France attempting to create an artists' colony there, starting with an invite to Gauguin to come and join him. This was probably a mistake, as their temperaments were wildly mismatched, and their tumultuous time together culminated in van Gogh's famous ear episode. It would be easy to read this as just that, a mistake, but Ramsey takes the opportunity to reflect on caring for others in need.
I think a lot about community and about my church's specific ideas about Zion, a community of united believers caring for each other in such a way that everyone's needs are met, and Ramsey characterizes his ideas as stewardship of another's joy or sorrow. I tend to think of stewardship as having slightly greater agency over a matter or responsibility than this, but the idea of caring for another's feelings as if they were our own resonates deeply with me (with healthy boundaries in place, of course). I think Ramsey says it best here, so I want to quote from him:
“To truly love someone is to move beyond first impressions into the heart of things; it is to take on the sacred work of stewarding another's joys and sorrows. It is to show up for their celebrations and invite them to yours. It is to sit with them when they're sick, nurse them until they are better, and lean on them when you're the one who is hurting. Is there a more sacred calling?
"To really know a person is to know them by their sorrows. … To know someone by their pain is to know them by their need. … Our sorrows, failures, and afflictions are sacred, not shameful, because they tell the truth about our need for redeeming grace and mercy.
“These things, Christ alone can give. And he does give them freely to any who would believe in him. But what about us? What can we give? … We can refuse to allow their pain to be the only thing, or even the main thing, we know them by. We can honor the truth that it is only the visibility of their suffering, not its presence, that sets them apart from anyone else. … We can seek to know the beauty they're contributing to the world, made even more beautiful by the way it kicks against the darkness in them. We can join them in this, thereby making beauty of our own.”
It is easy to want to define ourselves and others by our pain and our challenges instead of our strengths and our joys. At least, for me it is. It is easy to compare yourself to others and to see where you are lacking and they are strong, or to judge another for their perceived weakness and not honor their goodness as well. Love and understanding exist for me on a grand circular continuum, where pursuing understanding of another leads to love, and cultivating love for them leads to greater understanding. Ramsey understands this intimately, it appears, and his love for transcendence and emotional connection shines through in his writing.
I will be thinking about this for a while.
What I didn't quite realize was that the author is a Christian pastor and that the structure of the book would include specific focus on different aspects of Christian discipleship. While these are very important principles to me as a fellow Christian, I have a sometimes-uneasy relationship with the more evangelical segments of the Christian spectrum, and worried that I might have stumbled into something that I wouldn't like—not because of the beliefs or feeling expressed, but the expression of them. Which might tell you something about me.
I needn't have worried. Ramsey is a deeply introspective and thoughtful person and writer, and each artist or body of work that he explores is neatly paired with a corresponding principle of Christian life, without tweeness or excessive evangelizing, either. He presents his own experiences, coupled with art historical and biographic details, to tell compelling and moving stories. I learned a lot about some of these artists with whom I've been familiar for as long as I can remember. There is an authorial gaze that is so compassionate and understanding that it is moving in and of itself, and I found myself deeply emotional at times.
The standout portion for me is his chapter on van Gogh, focusing on his time in the south of France attempting to create an artists' colony there, starting with an invite to Gauguin to come and join him. This was probably a mistake, as their temperaments were wildly mismatched, and their tumultuous time together culminated in van Gogh's famous ear episode. It would be easy to read this as just that, a mistake, but Ramsey takes the opportunity to reflect on caring for others in need.
I think a lot about community and about my church's specific ideas about Zion, a community of united believers caring for each other in such a way that everyone's needs are met, and Ramsey characterizes his ideas as stewardship of another's joy or sorrow. I tend to think of stewardship as having slightly greater agency over a matter or responsibility than this, but the idea of caring for another's feelings as if they were our own resonates deeply with me (with healthy boundaries in place, of course). I think Ramsey says it best here, so I want to quote from him:
“To truly love someone is to move beyond first impressions into the heart of things; it is to take on the sacred work of stewarding another's joys and sorrows. It is to show up for their celebrations and invite them to yours. It is to sit with them when they're sick, nurse them until they are better, and lean on them when you're the one who is hurting. Is there a more sacred calling?
"To really know a person is to know them by their sorrows. … To know someone by their pain is to know them by their need. … Our sorrows, failures, and afflictions are sacred, not shameful, because they tell the truth about our need for redeeming grace and mercy.
“These things, Christ alone can give. And he does give them freely to any who would believe in him. But what about us? What can we give? … We can refuse to allow their pain to be the only thing, or even the main thing, we know them by. We can honor the truth that it is only the visibility of their suffering, not its presence, that sets them apart from anyone else. … We can seek to know the beauty they're contributing to the world, made even more beautiful by the way it kicks against the darkness in them. We can join them in this, thereby making beauty of our own.”
It is easy to want to define ourselves and others by our pain and our challenges instead of our strengths and our joys. At least, for me it is. It is easy to compare yourself to others and to see where you are lacking and they are strong, or to judge another for their perceived weakness and not honor their goodness as well. Love and understanding exist for me on a grand circular continuum, where pursuing understanding of another leads to love, and cultivating love for them leads to greater understanding. Ramsey understands this intimately, it appears, and his love for transcendence and emotional connection shines through in his writing.
I will be thinking about this for a while.
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