Monday, November 16, 2020

Evolution: Rembrandt as a Printmaker


Rembrandt van Rijn was a 17th century Dutch artist who is well known for his paintings and prints. He was incredibly influential not only to his Dutch contemporaries but also to the art world as a whole. His mastery of technique and fluency in storytelling can be seen clearly and beautifully in each of his works, and they remain as inspiration for many artists today. 

Rembrandt’s artistic approach to printmaking led to works which have motion in the interlocking lines and contrast in their atmospheric tones. He was also known for experimenting with the medium and its many facets, often combining etching, drypoint, and engraving as well as testing different types of paper for his pieces. With Rembrandt’s prints, we have a unique opportunity to examine both the touch of the artist’s hand and the evolution of each piece, as well as some of the thought process that decided where to place emphasis within the work. He did not view the act of printing as final, but instead continued to make alterations, sometimes minuscule and sometimes quite drastic, to each plate. This essentially gives each concept a life of its own, grower richer and richer with each alteration. Each one is specific and intricate, serving almost as a still from a movie, a captured moment and memory held in a single image. Here Rembrandt’s experiments are on full display, and they beg us to look at them with a careful eye and eager spirit. 



Reclining Female Nude, second of six states

Rembrandt van Rijn, 1658

Etching, drypoint, and engraving on Japan paper

Metropolitan Museum of Art

In this piece made in 1658, Rembrandt combines the techniques of drypoint, etching, and engraving to subtly reveal the nude figure of a black woman lying on a surface covered in cloth, her arms tucked in front and her back to the viewer. The background behind her is composed of dense, sporadic drypoint marks which expresses the darkness of her surroundings and directs the viewer’s attention to the presence of the figure. She is rendered with a series of thin, diligent marks which begin to lessen the contrast between the white of the fabric and the dark setting. The artist also leaves a significant amount of ink on the plate when he prints this, which when combined with the warm toned paper create deep values which draw the woman back into her setting. The highlight on the top of her hip is quite a bit darker than the fabric, and Rembrandt’s use of etching  on her figure articulates her form with careful attention. 

Reclining Female Nude, sixth of six states

Rembrandt van Rijn, 1658

Etching, drypoint, and engraving on Japan paper

The British Museum

The changes made here both clarify the scene and reinforce the subject. Rembrandt uses carefully etched lines to articulate and follow the woman’s form while also emphasizing the color of the woman’s skin by darkening her setting with more drypoint and ink and reworks the values on her form to make her appear darker. Now, with the contrast between the background and white cloth drastically increased, we are drawn into the image and towards the woman, whose pose and setting create a sense of intimacy in this smaller print. 


Christ Presented to the People, second of eight states

Rembrandt van Rijn, 1655

Drypoint on Japan paper

Metropolitan Museum of Art

This piece depicts a scene of the Passion of Christ during which Pontius Pilot brings Jesus before a crowd and offers him to them, saying that he will free either Jesus or the criminal Barabbas. While both Pilot and Jesus are depicted in clothes which fit the narrative, Rembrandt chooses that the rest of the figures present wear more contemporary Dutch clothing. The architecture behind the figures as well as the staff in Pilot’s hand also echo facets of the Dutch judicial system at the time, drawing viewers closer and painting a familiar scene. Statues of Justice and Fortitude lead our eyes towards Jesus, who stands silent before the crowd. 


Christ Presented to the People, seventh of eight states

Rembrandt van Rijn, 1655

Drypoint on Japan paper

Metropolitan Museum of Art


In this state, we see the various alterations and changes they bring to the narrative. Here, Jesus is no longer framed at the bottom by members of the crowd. The solid ground before the stage is now replaced with a huge pit composed of tiny sporadic strokes. These layer on top of one another, forming the edge of a deep, dark abyss which is now occupied by the vague form of a bearded man, who stares out at us. Both of these drastically change both the composition and the narrative, as we can no longer disconnect ourselves from the reality of the history. We become part of the scene. Rembrandt removes the option of any aloofness or disdain we might feel towards the crowd in the second state, and instead we are directly confronted with the question of which prisoner should go free. We can now only reply with “Barabbas.” 

Christ Crucified between the Two Thieves: The Three Crosses, first of four states

Rembrandt van Rijn, 1653 

Drypoint printed on vellum

Metropolitan Museum of Art

Here Jesus is shown in his final moments before his death, illuminated by a beam of heavenly light and flanked on both sides by two criminals. His mother Mary weeps at his feet, and mournful citizens as well as Roman officers on horseback surround the three crosses.  Both sides of the composition are quite dark, composed of shadowy figures and a dim and scratchy foreground. Long lines travel from the top of the composition and land on Jesus’s slumped form, leading our eyes directly onto his broken body. Here, with Christ as the clear focal point, we can almost feel the tension as Jesus declares “It is finished.”





Christ Crucified between the Two Thieves: The Three Crosses, fourth of four states

Rembrandt van Rijn, 1660 

Drypoint 

Metropolitan Museum of Art

This version is noticeably darker than its predecessors, emphasising the darkness and chaos of this final act of Jesus. The Roman soldiers and their horses now face Jesus, and the crowd which was once identifiable as individuals is now one mass composed of inky cross hatching and thick sporadic lines. Rembrandt also establishes an even darker atmosphere by leaving some of the ink on the plate, which reinforces the moment with black smudges towards the edges of the piece. We now complete the scene, joining in with Mary, barely illuminated, and mourning the death of our Lord. Here each change leads back to Jesus, and the dramatic contrast provided by Rembrandt’s intentional marks points us to the visual and theological significance of this final moment. 


Upsetting the Iconographic Apple Cart in 17th Century Dutch Baroque Art


Domestic interior scenes, often depicting women, are a hallmark of 17th Century Dutch art. Breaking with the past, artists for the first time made art for an open market, instead of the previous commission market. Thus, artists stylistically converged in effort to find the niche in which their artwork would be sold. As a result, the Dutch genre painters produced artworks strikingly similar to one another. Johannes Vermeer seems to fit right in with other Dutch Baroque artists. He shares the use of pointillés techniques, painting of light, and depiction of domestic life with his contemporaries. Yet, closer inspection reveals a uniquely sympathetic, embodying, and dignifying rendering of women markedly absent in the work of other artists of his day.

    Vermeer cleverly weaves common iconographic images readily present in Dutch art to imbue meaning and significance. His careful placement and contextualization of iconographic objects reverses the expected meaning of the icons which results in an empathetic rendering of women. Dutch artists produced two common genre paintings. In one, the artist painted a woman abstracted from reality and presented an image to present how women should live up to an idealized standard of virtue. In the other type, the artist painted a lewd, oversexualized woman. Vermeer instead grounded women in reality as embodied and real women with actual moral significance instead of as an ideal, while also reversing the meaning of images meant to sexualize women. Come and see how Vermeer strategically flips the narrative of women by painting within the iconographic and thematic conventions of his day.


Interior of a Cottage

Nicolaes Maes

1655

Oil on canvas

69.1 x 87 cm

Private Collection 

Suspicion around maids abounded as people believed them to be lazy, loose, and prone to thievery. As such, maids were thought to need close supervision. Maes’ paints a stern, ruddy faced maid seated in an interior with one foot propped on a foot warmer heating the underside of her dress. A common iconographic symbol, foot warmers symbolized a woman’s sexuality and erotic desire, especially for unmarried maids. Further, the maid is seen plucking the feathers of a bird, which vulgarly symbolized copulation and the fulfillment of fleshly desires. Maes’ unattractive portrayal of the maid fits into the general narrative of women in the 17th century.




The Milkmaid

Johannes Vermeer

c. 1660

Oil on canvas

45.5 x 41 cm

Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam: No Ascension 

In Vermeer's Milkmaid, a sturdy, but gentle maid stands serenely at a meager table of bread and milk, fully absorbed in her cooking task. On the floor in the corner of the painting is a foot warmer sitting unused and a tile with a Cupid that decorates the back wall. The maid has clear access to objects of sexual arousal, but instead is seen diligently working. Vermeer imbues her with a sense of dignity that rests upon her soft, but strong face and is found in the denial of Cupid and the foot warmer--common iconographic symbols used to portray women’s erotic desire. Thus, by the use of iconography, Vermeer flips the narrative of women as commonly seen in paintings such as Nicolaes Maes’. 



Interior with a Woman Washing her Hands

Eglon van der Neer

1675

Oil on canvas

42.9 x 39.6 cm

Museum Mauritshuis: No Ascension

In an image depicting a brothel, van der Neer uses the iconography of a wash basin and pitcher to evoke thoughts of purity and innocence. And in some contexts, the pitcher iconographically symbolizes the form of the female body. Yet obviously not innocent, the woman is seen washing her hands after a client, while another woman is seen with her breasts peeking out over the top of her dress in attempts to seduce a man. The woman washing her hands symbolically washes away the sin of the act. The sexualization of women and portrayal as seductresses contrasts Vermeer’s embodiment of virtue. 


Young Woman with a Water Pitcher

Johannes Vermeer

ca. 1662

Oil on canvas

18 x 16 in

MET: 89.15.21

In Young Woman with a Water Pitcher, Vermeer paints in such a way that light streams through the window softly illuminating the face of the woman. Instead of allegorically extracting a woman from reality like his contemporaries, Vermeer paints the woman so naturally and beautifully that she embodies the iconographic images in the wash basin, hooftdoek, and natural light. Such images evoke thoughts of purity and innocence--common ideals for women. But the naturalistic renderings take the symbolism out of the painting and imbue them in the woman herself. Still using iconographic symbols, Vermeer simply deepens the meaning and grounds the symbolism in reality.


The Lace Maker

Gerrit Dou

c. 1667

Oil on wood

49 x 45 cm

Staatliche Kuntsthalle Karlsruhe: 267

Dou paints an interior scene with a woman who, with her stare, engages the viewer as she works on the lacework in her lap with an open Bible right beside her. An image of meekness and diligence, young women were taught the craft as a means of warding off unfeminine virtues such as laziness, obstinance, and unchastity that would make them unsuitable for marriage.  The open Bible furthers the narrative of the need for a woman to be virtuous.

The Lacemaker

Johannes Vermeer

c. 1669-1671

Oil on canvas 

24 x 21 cm

The Louvre: M.I. 1448

Like Gerrit Dou, Vermeer paints an interior scene with a woman busy at work on her needlework and an unopened prayer book to her right. The woman does not engage the viewer, but embodies the sense of interiority commonly seen in Vermeer’s domestic scenes. The serene setting and woman’s calm face coupled with her intense focus on her work create such interiority. Further, the needlework is on the table, not her lap, symbolizing that this is not just an art project preparing her for subservience in marriage. Rather, she is a craftsman who has mastered her art and has a need for a table specifically for her craft. The naturalism with which Vermeer paints the woman further grounds her in reality and instils her with dignity absent in other works with similar iconography.



An Evening With Skulls

 

What can one learn from an evening spent with a candle lit skull? With both being a symbol of how quickly life can pass us by, one can begin to wonder how morbid each artist could be. Perhaps we as the viewer could use an evening, filled with nothing but silence and bathed in the warm flicking light of a candle to ponder life’s big questions. Why are we doing what we do every day? Are we satisfied with what we have done? If we died tomorrow who would care? How do we treat the dying? As we take a trip past the faces of those contemplating this perhaps we can also realize much about what is left in Death’s wake. 

Saint Jerome in his Study by Candlelight

 

This painting is surprisingly gentle given the subject matter, as we have a room filled with soft reds, warm candlelight. As St. Jerome grasps the skull, he holds it softly with a cloth, his fingers lax on the surface. We wonder how long he has been thinking about what he is holding, and are struck by the sweet smile upon his face. We do not know how long it will be before he meets Death, but him and the skull seem to be like old friends. 

Skull, urchins and lamp on a table

Pablo Picasso
  • Location: Musée Picasso, Paris, France

  • Genre : vanitas

  • Style: Cubism

  • Date : 1943

  • Media: oil, wood


If there is such a thing as Opposite day then Picasso most certainly went for it. With only a hint of orange for warmth, we have here greys and blues as a call back in contrast to the usual reds and browns of most painted skulls and candles. Everything here is pointy or sharp, and the light is the darkest thing depicted. The urchins are unappetizing and the usual grin of the skull has been turned into an odd and greedy look. Perhaps here Death is more eager for us than we are for it.  




Young Man and Skull

Paul Cezanne
  • Date c. 1898

  • Style : Post Impressionism

  • Media: oil, canvas

  • Location: Barnes Foundation, Philadelphia, PA, US

Unlike St. Jerome above us, here we have a young man who is disturbed by the sight before him. We are still met with warm hues but this time there is a sharp contrast of blue with the yellow. The Young man's eyes are wide and a little wild, staring into the empty eye sockets of his former fellow man. It is quite interesting to see the skull sitting upon a stack of books, for what is written can often seem to live forever, but book pages can easily be burned to ash in but a few minutes. 


                                   

           

                           

           

                           

With a beautiful and tender set up contrasted by the hard and dangerous objects next to her, Mary Magdalene here is striking yet soft in a lovely paradox. She seems to have all the riches life could offer. Rich clothes to wear, time to spend leisurely, and beauty in abundance. But she is looking past all of those things, thoughtful in the night, directing us to look for more.           

The Penitent Magdalene 

  • Artist: Georges de La Tour Date: ca. 1640               

  • Held by: The Metropolitan Museum of Art   

  • Medium: Oil on canvas

  • Dimensions: 52 1/2 x 40 1/4 in. (133.4 x 102.2 cm)



The New-born


In the spotlight where the skull would usually rest, de La Tour has painted a closed eyed Christ. Living breathing flesh takes the place of a hollow piece of bone, and as the mothers here tenderly hold the child, we must also become silent as we realize how one day the child's head shall be crowned. We can also smile again realizing Death has been replaced. 



High Marioligy in Renaissance Renditions of the Coronation of the Virgin


The Coronation of Mary is a common motif in late-medieval and Renaissance Catholic religious art in which the Virgin Mary is depicted receiving a crown from Jesus or, especially in later renditions of the scene, from the three Persons of the Holy Trinity. This motif was inspired by Mariological interpretations of Scriptural passages like Song of Songs 4:8, Psalms 45:11-12, and Revelation 12:17 offered by Catholic theologians. According these interpretations, Mary, after her bodily assumption into heaven at the end of her life, was crowned the Queen of Heaven by God. 

The Coronation was depicted on altarpieces as early as the 12th century, but it reached its developmental height during the Renaissance. While the motif itself is the product of a high Mariology, certain formal (and a few symbolic) features of proto-Renaissance and Renaissance iterations of the Coronation show a steady progression from a high Mariology in the 14th century to an even higher Mariology at the beginning of the 17th century. As the years passed, Mary’s expression, posture, and position relative to other figures on the picture plane changed dramatically. In the 14th century, a viewer entirely unacquainted with Catholic theology or religious art would have recognized, based on purely formal elements, that Mary was subordinate to Christ in most (if not all) renditions of the the Coronation; by the turn of the 17th century, she would not have. This is not to suggest that late-16th- and early-17th-century Catholic artists would have denied that Mary was a subordinate of Christ’s, but rather that the hierarchical distance between Mary and Christ in paintings of the Coronation narrowed between the 14th and 17th centuries. Furthermore, while earlier depictions of the Coronation emphasized Mary’s humility and purity, later versions placed heavier emphasis on her beauty and glory.




The Coronation of the Virgin

Paolo Veneziano

1324

tempera on poplar panel

National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C.

This proto-Renaissance Venician altarpiece is rather typical of late medieval renditions of the Coronation of Mary. Mary is seated on a throne at the right hand of Christ and bows her head and arms toward him as he crowns her in the presence of angels. Clearly, even this relatively early painting of the Coronation is born of a high Mariology. However, Mary’s posture and expression in this altarpiece unambiguously signal her subordinate status. Notably, her head is covered, which may symbolize submission to authority (e.g. 1 Cor. 11:10).



Coronation of the Virgin

Martino di Bartolomeo

ca. 1400

tempera on panel

William Randolph Hearst Collection, San Simeon, CA

This Italian altarpiece closely resembles Vezeniano’s and represents a similar Mariology. Most of the same considerations apply here: despite Mary’s privileged position at the right hand of the throne of Christ, her posture, expression, and dress emphasize her humility and purity, rather than her power or glorification. In this rendition of the Coronation, the Holy Spirit is present in the audience, hovering above Mary in the form of a dove. The authenticating presence of additional members of the Godhead at Mary’s coronation becomes commonplace in future versions.



Coronation of the Virgin

Sandro Botticelli

1490-92

tempera on panel

Galleria degli Uffizi, Florence

This later altarpiece, commissioned from Botticelli by the Dominican monastery of San Marco in Florence in honor of its patron saint, St. Eligius, depicts Mary receiving a crown from God the Father while St. John the Evangelist, St. Augustine, St. Jerome, and St. Eligius watch from the earth below. The Mariology of Botticelli’s altarpiece is higher than that of the two altarpieces above in at least two ways. First, in her assumption Mary is exalted above the fathers of the Church, and even above an apostle. Second, in this altarpiece, Mary is placed at the right hand of the Father, an honor typically reserved for Christ.




The Crowning of the Virgin

Raffaello Sanzio da Urbino

1502-1504

tempera on panel

Vatican Pinacoteca, Rome

In this high-Renaissance altarpiece, painted for the Oddi family chapel in the church of San Francesco al Prato in Perugia, Italy, Raphael depicts the coronation of Mary by Christ immediately following her assumption, while the apostles look on from beside her empty tomb. Besides exalting Mary above all the apostles, Raphael emphasizes both her immortality and purity by means of her vacant coffin, now filled with lilies. Still, in this altarpiece (as well as in Botticelli’s) Mary’s posture and garb resemble those in the proto-Renaissance pieces above.



The Coronation of the Virgin

Annibale Carracci

1595

oil on canvas

Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York

In this magnificent oil painting, Annibale Carracci breaks with the standard template for the Coronation in several ways. First, Mary is situated in the center of the highest part of the foreground of the painting, the absolute pinnacle of Carracci’s spatial hierarchy (note that it is now Christ who is at Mary’s right hand). Second, Mary no longer assumes the submissive posture of past renditions of the Coronation: she faces the viewer, with her head tilted back and her hair uncovered. Carracci’s Virgin Mary is, first and foremost, majestically beautiful and worthy of adoration.



The Coronation of the Virgin with Saints Joseph and Francis

Giulio Cesare Procaccini

ca. 1605

oil on panel

The Getty Museum, Los Angeles, CA

Procaccini’s oil painting mirrors Caracci’s in its spatial organization and in its presentation of Mary, who still faces the viewer with her head raised and her hair uncovered. Here, as in Caracci’s painting, all three Persons of the Trinity are present for and participants in the coronation. Notably, in contrast to earlier paintings in which apostles and saints are merely observers, in this piece St. Joseph and St. Francis appear to be adoring Mary as she receives her crown. Like Caracci, Procaccini portrays Mary as a paradigm of grace, beauty, and virtue.