I have painted dozens of portraits and over one hundred other paintings, and it never gets old not knowing exactly how they will turn out. The portraits are especially magical. As the shape of the face takes hold and layers start to build, and the eyes become more developed and then all of a sudden once the reflection of light is placed on the eye, it comes alive. One of my best portraits was one I did of my father a few months after he died. Another was of my daughter used the Anders Zorn technique of using only four colors: vermillion, ivory black, flake white and yellow ochre. There are other times when I thought I had a portrait just about done, and then I changed something like a slight dash of color on the lip. Gone never to be recovered and the more I tried to get back to what I thought was almost done, the more unrecognizable the portrait became. Typically, the faster the painting is finished the better the painting it. It's almost like a spirit takes over, and at the end I think, "How the hell did this happen?" There were also the recipes that the old masters used for making the paint including mixing in crushed glass to give the depth to the paintings. I also try to imagine what it was like painting back then. No photos to paint from. No distractions to retreat to. Just the painting and natural or candlelight. Once I retire.
Nothing can compare to seeing these paintings in person. One summer during college (1980), my roommate and I toured Europe for five weeks the old-fashioned way, armed with backpacks, Eurail passes, and student IDs (which gained us entrance into most museums for free or greatly reduced rates). We were both art history minors and the goal was to see as much art as possible, even dubbing the trip “The Art Blitz.” And it was life-changing. Seeing up close all the art we had studied via slides and bookplates was mesmerizing. To get as close as possible and stare at a detailed area, wild with seemingly random brushstrokes and odd colors, and then step back and take in what the artist accomplished when viewed as a whole altered my brain and appreciation for the Masters. I recommend regular museum visits. They are good for your soul.
You should visit El Prado in Madrid. Many more from El Greco, Goya, and the Dutch masters . Holland was a province of the Hapsburg Empire, ruled from Spain. One of many.
This is WHY I Subscribe. This will stay with me , long after The News of The Day (the latest bright shiny thing) becomes...well fish wrap or something you line a birdcage with.
The 17th century was a terrible time to be alive. The Little Ice Age kicked in with a vengeance setting the world's temperature on Frigid. There were famines. Wars with horrible atrocities. Witch panics and pogroms, lethal plague outbreaks. But the art and music of that century reached a pinnacle seldom achieved in later times-- perhaps all that suffering forced the artists to look deeper to find the Light. (OK, Baroque architecture, Christopher Wren excepted, tried too hard-- about an order of magnitude too hard). Our own world may have it too easy and our aesthetics have become lazy and flaccid.
Oh, and enjoy Christmas in Roma! What a great place to go for the Nativity!
Ah, but for us those are distant sounds of thunder. Not like wondering where your next meal is coming from, or burying three children and a wife as Rembrandt did. In North America life is easy, and if grief does befall it's often one's own doing.
Interestingly, there were as many or more deaths from war in the 17th century as in the 20th century measured by percentage of the population killed rather than absolute numbers (M Roser data). For deaths from disease it’s probably no contest which one was worse. Deaths from war as a percentage of the population have plummeted since the end of WW2 a trend largely attributed to the existence of nuclear weapons which make large scale conflagrations too costly. I get that there are other parameters of “terribleness” besides deaths from war to consider and indeed lots of awfulness today, the slaughter of millions of innocents through abortion for just one, including the nihilism you mention (I use loss of meaning/desperation).
But abortion is only troubling to some people. Others don't care. It isn't something, like death in war or from plague or famine, that everyone perceives as a horror. In my original list I did not mention slavery, although it grew enormously in the 1600s, but most people at the time were untroubled by it since it seemed natural and normal, however perverse that strikes us now.
I was making a point that life as people experienced it was very hard in the 1600s, worse than in the century before, or the one that came after. I was not trying to make an "objective" comparison across the ages. an by modern standards.
It was a bad time to be alive in Germany for sure. But it wasn't so bad in England. Even the English Civil War had few combatants and affected few Englishmen. The Puritans were a joyless bunch but they were ousted in 1660 to be replaced by Charles II. Let the good times roll.
England had several plague outbreaks, notably in 1665. And believe it or not the mortality from malaria (tertian fever) was higher than for plague in England. Smallpox also caused high mortality (everywhere).
It's one thing to behold Rembrandt in his art. It's quite another to be blessed by seeing through another's eyes the beauty and truth expressed so eloquently by this artist. Thank you. For your eyes, and for your pen.
Wow! Thanks so much for this extra post. I need a guide to help me with art and your piece today really helped me appreciate the beauty of the life and work of Rembrandt. It brought tears.
Despite his hardships, the loss of three children, Rembrandt and all he touches are surrounded by light.
Notice yesterday with Lily Philips how there was no light anywhere to be found. A seven-figure bank account, no responsibilities except to her paying customers, and...darkness.
I almost always visit the National Gallery of Art when I go to Washington, D.C. Over a period of many years I would stand for some time before Rembrandt's portrait of a Polish nobleman. Somehow or other, the height at which the painting was hung and my eye level resulted in the thing coming alive when I stood there looking into his eyes. Can't explain it, but it was almost eerie. Then I visited one time, and they had moved the painting and hung it at a different height, or so it seemed to me; and the effect was gone.
Interesting. At the Frick Museum in Pittsburgh there is a full-length portrait of Henry Clay Frick's daughter Helen that has that sort of effect on me. It's from 1905 and pictures her as a teenager, probably 16 or 17. The artist has captured her beauty and spirit in such a way as she almost looks like she could step out of the frame and say hello. Part of it is the artist's skill, but I imagine that the fact that the portrait is life-sized also has something to do with it.
Years ago someone gave me a copy of Simon Schama's "Rembrandt's Eyes" as a gift. Despite my great appreciation of his marvelous book on history and place, "Landscape and Memory," I've never read the Rembrandt book. Perhaps this is just the motivation I need.
What a wonderful essay. For anyone seeking more commentary about the world of art, I highly recommend Brian Allen's current work in National Review.
Here's his piece from just this morning. He writes pretty much every week: https://www.nationalreview.com/2024/12/might-baby-jesus-a-spanish-pointer-or-a-pair-of-ruby-slippers-land-under-your-tree/
I have painted dozens of portraits and over one hundred other paintings, and it never gets old not knowing exactly how they will turn out. The portraits are especially magical. As the shape of the face takes hold and layers start to build, and the eyes become more developed and then all of a sudden once the reflection of light is placed on the eye, it comes alive. One of my best portraits was one I did of my father a few months after he died. Another was of my daughter used the Anders Zorn technique of using only four colors: vermillion, ivory black, flake white and yellow ochre. There are other times when I thought I had a portrait just about done, and then I changed something like a slight dash of color on the lip. Gone never to be recovered and the more I tried to get back to what I thought was almost done, the more unrecognizable the portrait became. Typically, the faster the painting is finished the better the painting it. It's almost like a spirit takes over, and at the end I think, "How the hell did this happen?" There were also the recipes that the old masters used for making the paint including mixing in crushed glass to give the depth to the paintings. I also try to imagine what it was like painting back then. No photos to paint from. No distractions to retreat to. Just the painting and natural or candlelight. Once I retire.
Nothing can compare to seeing these paintings in person. One summer during college (1980), my roommate and I toured Europe for five weeks the old-fashioned way, armed with backpacks, Eurail passes, and student IDs (which gained us entrance into most museums for free or greatly reduced rates). We were both art history minors and the goal was to see as much art as possible, even dubbing the trip “The Art Blitz.” And it was life-changing. Seeing up close all the art we had studied via slides and bookplates was mesmerizing. To get as close as possible and stare at a detailed area, wild with seemingly random brushstrokes and odd colors, and then step back and take in what the artist accomplished when viewed as a whole altered my brain and appreciation for the Masters. I recommend regular museum visits. They are good for your soul.
I went to the Art Museum in Budapest when I found out they had a set by my favorite artist, El Greco. Great stuff
You should visit El Prado in Madrid. Many more from El Greco, Goya, and the Dutch masters . Holland was a province of the Hapsburg Empire, ruled from Spain. One of many.
Museo El Greco in Toledo......and Toledo in general are well worth a day or 2.
Christ Carrying the Cross in the Lehman wing of the MET is one of my favorites.
This is WHY I Subscribe. This will stay with me , long after The News of The Day (the latest bright shiny thing) becomes...well fish wrap or something you line a birdcage with.
Rod, take it from this country bumpkin, this post was enchanting! I loved your insight into Rembrandt’s use of light. Thank you for sharing.
Thank you for this.
The 17th century was a terrible time to be alive. The Little Ice Age kicked in with a vengeance setting the world's temperature on Frigid. There were famines. Wars with horrible atrocities. Witch panics and pogroms, lethal plague outbreaks. But the art and music of that century reached a pinnacle seldom achieved in later times-- perhaps all that suffering forced the artists to look deeper to find the Light. (OK, Baroque architecture, Christopher Wren excepted, tried too hard-- about an order of magnitude too hard). Our own world may have it too easy and our aesthetics have become lazy and flaccid.
Oh, and enjoy Christmas in Roma! What a great place to go for the Nativity!
"The 17th century was a terrible time to be alive."
Says the man whose own life straddles the century of genocide and the century of techno-nihilism
Ah, but for us those are distant sounds of thunder. Not like wondering where your next meal is coming from, or burying three children and a wife as Rembrandt did. In North America life is easy, and if grief does befall it's often one's own doing.
Interestingly, there were as many or more deaths from war in the 17th century as in the 20th century measured by percentage of the population killed rather than absolute numbers (M Roser data). For deaths from disease it’s probably no contest which one was worse. Deaths from war as a percentage of the population have plummeted since the end of WW2 a trend largely attributed to the existence of nuclear weapons which make large scale conflagrations too costly. I get that there are other parameters of “terribleness” besides deaths from war to consider and indeed lots of awfulness today, the slaughter of millions of innocents through abortion for just one, including the nihilism you mention (I use loss of meaning/desperation).
But abortion is only troubling to some people. Others don't care. It isn't something, like death in war or from plague or famine, that everyone perceives as a horror. In my original list I did not mention slavery, although it grew enormously in the 1600s, but most people at the time were untroubled by it since it seemed natural and normal, however perverse that strikes us now.
I was making a point that life as people experienced it was very hard in the 1600s, worse than in the century before, or the one that came after. I was not trying to make an "objective" comparison across the ages. an by modern standards.
"it seemed natural and normal,"
Did it, though? In the early days of the slave trade, a lot of people railed against it, especially if the slaves were not prisoners of war.
I'd say that it was that it was far away, in the days when there was no TV or even newspapers.
It was a bad time to be alive in Germany for sure. But it wasn't so bad in England. Even the English Civil War had few combatants and affected few Englishmen. The Puritans were a joyless bunch but they were ousted in 1660 to be replaced by Charles II. Let the good times roll.
England had several plague outbreaks, notably in 1665. And believe it or not the mortality from malaria (tertian fever) was higher than for plague in England. Smallpox also caused high mortality (everywhere).
It's one thing to behold Rembrandt in his art. It's quite another to be blessed by seeing through another's eyes the beauty and truth expressed so eloquently by this artist. Thank you. For your eyes, and for your pen.
Not quite the same level but I am taking my boys to our museum of fine art in our capital city. Loved this essay
Thank you, Rod, for seeing and sharing the beauty of Rembrandt (and so appropriate for Nativity of the Lord!).
This is a simple gem to share with my family and friends, young and old. The comments and links are great, too.
They can open doors into good, necessary thoughts, history, and understanding.
Speaking of works of art, this song came out 11 years ago, and keeps getting more relevant year after year.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lzAuXuxD0Oo
Wow! Thanks so much for this extra post. I need a guide to help me with art and your piece today really helped me appreciate the beauty of the life and work of Rembrandt. It brought tears.
I’m thinking of a beautiful poem by Donald Justice that starts:
There is a gold light in certain old paintings
That represents a diffusion of sunlight.
It is like happiness, when we are happy.
It comes from everywhere and from nowhere at once, this light,
And the poor soldiers sprawled at the foot of the cross
Share in its charity equally with the cross.
Thank you Rod, for your writing, and for this one today-as we approach here in NYC the darkest day of the year.
The light means so much.
Despite his hardships, the loss of three children, Rembrandt and all he touches are surrounded by light.
Notice yesterday with Lily Philips how there was no light anywhere to be found. A seven-figure bank account, no responsibilities except to her paying customers, and...darkness.
Very insightful post.
I almost always visit the National Gallery of Art when I go to Washington, D.C. Over a period of many years I would stand for some time before Rembrandt's portrait of a Polish nobleman. Somehow or other, the height at which the painting was hung and my eye level resulted in the thing coming alive when I stood there looking into his eyes. Can't explain it, but it was almost eerie. Then I visited one time, and they had moved the painting and hung it at a different height, or so it seemed to me; and the effect was gone.
Interesting. At the Frick Museum in Pittsburgh there is a full-length portrait of Henry Clay Frick's daughter Helen that has that sort of effect on me. It's from 1905 and pictures her as a teenager, probably 16 or 17. The artist has captured her beauty and spirit in such a way as she almost looks like she could step out of the frame and say hello. Part of it is the artist's skill, but I imagine that the fact that the portrait is life-sized also has something to do with it.
Years ago someone gave me a copy of Simon Schama's "Rembrandt's Eyes" as a gift. Despite my great appreciation of his marvelous book on history and place, "Landscape and Memory," I've never read the Rembrandt book. Perhaps this is just the motivation I need.