Rembrandt In Vienna

Notes On The Exhibition

Well, like I said, I knew I couldn’t go to the Rembrandt exhibition at the Kunsthistorisches Museum in Vienna on Friday and then wait till Monday to say something about it. Readers in Europe, and non-European readers who might be in Vienna before the exhibit ends on January 12, do what you can to get there. It’s magical. You will need to book a time to go, because it’s hugely popular, and the museum needs to manage the crowds. (Bonus: what a pleasure to have discovered that as you leave the exhibition, there immediately to your right is the salon where the museum has its Brueghels, the largest single collection in the world, including one of the greatest of all paintings, Brueghel’s “Hunters In The Snow”.)

It was fun to go to Rembrandt with my son Matt, not only because he has a good eye for art, but also because he’s in graduate school in Vienna, in a Museum Studies program, because he wants to spend his life as a curator, archivist, or in some way working in a museum. Looks like taking the boy to the Metropolitan Museum in New York, the city of his birth, when he was little, and to lots of museums in his childhood, really made its mark. He asked if we could spent Christmas this year in Rome, so he could see all the old things. Of course! We leave next weekend.

So, Rembrandt. He is a painter of light. I suppose most painters are, but aside from Vermeer, and, in a very different way, Caravaggio, I can’t think of a single artist who does it better. I stared at some of these canvases yesterday and marveled at how that man, or any man, could have achieved these effects with pigment on canvas.

Look at the Prophet Simeon recognizing the Messiah in the Temple:

The Madonna, the Christ child, and the prophet are bathed in light. Light peals from the face of the Child in a particular way, but notice how the priest’s hand raised in blessing seems also to be a source of the light — as if God is transmitting the revelation through his authority. Rembrandt’s painting is a rebuke to those who deny the Jewishness of Our Lord. This scene is from the Gospel of Luke, Chapter 2:

²⁵ At that time there was a man in Jerusalem named Simeon. He was righteous and devout and was eagerly waiting for the Messiah to come and rescue Israel. The Holy Spirit was upon him ²⁶ and had revealed to him that he would not die until he had seen the Lord’s Messiah. ²⁷ That day the Spirit led him to the Temple. So when Mary and Joseph came to present the baby Jesus to the Lord as the law required, ²⁸ Simeon was there. He took the child in his arms and praised God, saying,

²⁹ “Sovereign Lord, now let your servant die in peace,
as you have promised.
³⁰ I have seen your salvation,
³¹ which you have prepared for all people.
³² He is a light to reveal God to the nations,
and he is the glory of your people Israel!”

³³ Jesus’ parents were amazed at what was being said about him. ³⁴ Then Simeon blessed them, and he said to Mary, the baby’s mother, “This child is destined to cause many in Israel to fall, and many others to rise. He has been sent as a sign from God, but many will oppose him. ³⁵ As a result, the deepest thoughts of many hearts will be revealed. And a sword will pierce your very soul.”

In Rembrandt’s canvas here (he painted this scene at least two other times, and was working on one of them when he died), we see Simeon making this proclamation. Notice his strong hands holding the Messiah of Israel, and the Savior of the world:

[UPDATE: I initially said here that Simeon was blind. I have no idea why I have always thought that. I stand corrected! — RD]

Rembrandt painted an enormous number of self-portraits over the course of his life and forty-year career. He had an unsurpassed gift for expressing the inner character of his subjects, especially in their eyes. Here is a link to an article tracking the development of the artist’s character as revealed in his portraits (which they say were primarily for his private collection, which meant he wasn’t trying to make a statement about himself for the world). The Vienna exhibition only features a handful of them, but they are among the most powerful of the lot. Below are some from the exhibition.

Here he is at age 46. By then, he had suffered the death of three of his children, in childbirth, and the passing of his beloved wife Saskia. There it is, in his face, all of it. Yet his eyes convey a mature confidence, and a steely character. This is a man who knows who he is, and what he is to do:

You can see the sadness only on close inspection. The subtlety!

Here is Rembrandt at sixty, a few years before he died. His hair is white, his features soft, his belly broad, his blurry eyes those of a man who has seen it all, and is fading into history. The exhibition commentary says that the presence of the circles may indicate that here, in this near-valedictory portrait, Rembrandt was declaring himself a universal artist.

Here is a canvas depicting Sarah awaiting her husband Tobias on their wedding night. According to the Book of Tobit (father of Tobias), Sarah had lived under a demonic curse that took the lives of seven previous husbands on their wedding night. She had never known a man. With the help of the Archangel Raphael, Tobias defeated the demon, and took Sarah as his wife.

Look at Sarah’s eyes. You see desire, but also apprehension. Will Tobias win, and come to her — or will he too be killed by the demon? She holds back the curtain on the drama, her mouth is tense, and she clutches her heart. Does she dare to hope?

Again, the eyes. The softness, but also the slightest tension around the edges:

As I mentioned, Rembrandt lost three children at their birth; his son Titus was the only one to survive into adulthood. Here is a portrait of Titus as a young man, reading. Maybe it’s just me, but this image (this below is an excerpt from the entire canvas) is almost lush with a father’s love. Rembrandt cherished this dear boy:

Here is an excerpt from one of the most imposing paintings in the entire exhibition: Rembrandt’s portrait of Juno, the Roman goddess of love and wealth:

Look at the calm majesty of this woman, her intense feminine power, her richesse. For Rembrandt, one imagines, this is the ideal wife, and maybe a symbol of the ideal marriage, with all its emotional bounty.

One more (though I could go on all day, I’m running out of space). Here is one of his earliest paintings “Old Scholar In His Study”:

Notice how the light, representing knowledge and enlightenment, pours through the window, lands on the pages of his book, and illuminates the vaulted interior of the world. Is that not what learning is? The lambent quality of this canvas is mesmerizing.

Very few men have ever seen as Rembrandt saw. But like all great artists, he teaches us to see the world as it really is. Glory to God for revealing Truth through the Beauty created by this genius of the Dutch Golden Age!