Rembrandt

In my last post, we saw Caravaggio set the stage for the Baroque period of European art: the period of mastery.  It is a period when the inventions of the Renaissance had been learned and expanded until nothing in the world of illusionistic art was beyond the capabilities of the great artists of the period.  Among these is Rembrandt van Rijn, who is widely considered to be the  greatest artist ever in the Western tradition. Since Velazquez and Rubens were certainly his equal in technical virtuosity, what is it that makes Rembrandt stand apart?

First let’s establish his mastery over the oil medium, by looking at two intimate portraits, one of his most devoted patron Jan Six, the other of his life companion Hendrijke.  In both the passages of pure paint in the cloth are astounding in their luscious brushwork, while functioning perfectly to suggest the clothing being described.  They are an orgy of sensuous surface, yet by no means the greatest accomplishment of the works.  Both show a depth of understanding of the subjects in their full humanity which is Rembrandt’s unique achievement, never equaled by another artist.  It is Jan Six’s humanity which shines forth, as does the intimacy of Hendrijke as she enters the water unaware of being observed.

Rembrandt’s growth through the years in appreciation of what makes us truly human can be seen in two versions of the same subject: “Supper at Emmaus”. I showed the early version in my last post, in comparison to Caravaggio, and we see that the overriding goal is impact and drama.  The later version shows an entirely different sensibility.  There is no movement, no astonishment, no external drama.  We are left with time and space to consider the true deeper meaning of the event, in which the risen Christ is revealed to his apostle.

If we are mesmerized by Rembrandt’s paintings, we can miss the extraordinary economy and power of his drawings.  Rembrandt lived in the Jewish quarter in Amsterdam, and was constantly sketching among his neighbors, in part to capture the true physiognomy of the bible stories.  The marvelous etching (drawing in another form) of Christ healing the sick, which was Rembrandt’s most ambitious, came to be known as the “100 Guilder Print” (a fabulous price for an etching).  In it we can see the folk from the Jewish quarter, young and old alike, from which he drew his inspiration.

I want to end my look at Rembrandt by examining how he was able to penetrate the surface likeness of his sitters and allow us as viewers a glimpse into the depths of their soul.  Many times the sitter was the artist himself; Rembrandt did an extraordinary number of self portraits over the years, and they become a display of his life journey; not only of the gradual decay of his features and his physical prowess, but also his maturing from the callowness and brashness of youth to the wisdom of age.

Rembrandt’s Self Portrait at the Frick is one of my favorites.  In it he has dressed himself in theatrical finery, from the collection of garments every artist kept to robe his models; periodically he would do this to add another level of reference to the figure.  But very quickly the costume becomes irrelevant, as the viewer is drawn to, and into, the face of the man, in what seems to be a moment of deep self-awareness.  If you look into Rembrandt’s eyes you are soon looking into his soul. He does this by pushing the eyes back into half shadow, not letting a strong light stop you at the surface reality.  As your eyes are drawn into the shadow, so they are drawn effortlessly into the soul of the man beyond the eyes.  This is why Rembrandt is greater than his contemporaries, and probably the greatest of all time.