Reynolds & the Subject in Dutch Art
Svetlana Alpers begins her ground-breaking study of
representation in 17th century Holland with reference to two very
different views of the country’s art: on the one hand Fromentin was
enthusiastic and saw Dutch art overall as a portrait of Holland itself; at the
other extreme, Sir Joshua Reynolds in his Journey
to Flanders and Holland in 1781 was critical of the country’s art and
regarded most of it as vulgar.[1]
But more telling than this value judgement was Reynold’s claim that Dutch art
was primarily about representation rather than narrative: there was no subject in Dutch art; one simply looked with the eye,
and that was it.[2] In
order to throw some light on Reynold’s attitude, and by extension, the English attitude
towards Dutch art in the eighteenth-century, it is helpful to quote Reynolds at
length:
“The account which has now been given of the Dutch pictures
is, I confess, more barren of entertainment, than I expected. One would wish to
be able to convey to the reader some idea of that excellence, the sight of
which has afforded so much pleasure: but as their merit often consists in the
truth of representation alone, whatever praise they deserve, whatever pleasure
they give when under the eye, they make
but a poor figure in description. It is to the eye only that the works of this
school are addressed; it is not therefore to be wondered at, that what was
intended solely for the gratification of one sense, succeeds but ill, when
applied to another.”
To Reynolds, a subject in the picture is essential because
painting must be didactic and impart moral guidance to the spectator. It must
have a public function, and the problem with Dutch art for Reynolds is that it
is intent on conveying private experience, not civic virtue. What Reynolds
calls the “republic of taste,” and the grand style in painting has been
corrupted by the “pursuit of trade as an end in itself” which Reynolds detects
in Venetian, and especially in Dutch art which he calls a “history piece” that shows
the Dutch people “engaged in their own peculiar occupations; working or
drinking, playing or fighting.”[3]
This is what we would recognise as genre: scenes of people in everyday
activities.
Sir Joshua Reynolds, Self-Portrait, 1788, oil on panel, 75.1 x 63.4 cm, Royal Collection. |
Rembrandt van Rhyn, Anna, Tobit, and the Kid, 1626, oil on panel, 39.5 x 30 cm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam. |
Jan Steen, Prince’s Day, 1660-79, oil on panel, 46 x 62.5 cm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam |
Gerard Ter Borch, The Letter, c. 1660-5, oil on
canvas, 81.9 x 68.4 x 12.0 cm, Royal Collection.
|
Adriaen van Ostade, The Skaters, Peasants in an
Interior, 1650, oil on panel, 44 x 35.5 cm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam.
|
A Brief Note on Dutch Genre & Theories of Art
Salomon de Bray, Book and Picture Shop, 1628, pen and ink and wash on paper, 7.6 x 7.6 cm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam. |
Jan Wouwermans, A Winter Scene with a Fair on Ice, 1657, oil on panel, 60.2 x 83.1 cm, Royal Collection. |
Hogarth, Portrait of Six of his Servants, 1750-5, oil on canvas, 630 x 755 mm, Tate Britain, London. |
Visualising Dutch Genre.
Hollander’s view of Dutch genre owes much to Alper’s
analysis of art, science and representation which has influenced a number of
studies that place optics and visualisation at the centre of their
investigations. For example, there have been books and articles on the use of
the camera obscura and the “photographic” nature of Dutch art- especially in
Vermeer;[8]
attempts to represent Dutch genre as virtual reality; [9]
and also parallels drawn between Dutch genre and modern modes of viewing such
as television and film, not to mention the absorption of these ideas into the
movie biographies of artists like Vermeer.[10]
Though some of Hollander’s propositions remain speculative, her comparison
between the “Hollywood realism” of Steen and the “Disneyfied” peasants of
Ostade and Dou is helpful in identifying different modes of realism in
seventeenth- century genre.[11]
These modulations are conspicuously absent in Reynold’s comments on Dutch genre
which he generalizes to an art in which the eye is privileged over any kind of literary
or narrative “meaning.” Yet we do not need to resort to the cinematic terminology
of Hollander to register the different ways of portraying scenes of everyday
life in the Netherlands. The genre paintings of Pieter de Hooch are completely
different in composition and mood to those of Steen which depend upon a more
confused and seemingly chaotic arrangement of figures to convey the Topsy-turveyness of his rambunctious world. In De Hooch’s scenes of everyday
life on the other hand, paintings of the interiors of houses and buildings that
are built using perspective convey the idea of an “optical” art most
effectively since such perspectival spaces presuppose a spectator whose eyes
can be guided by its geometry and lines of sight.[12]
De Hooch draws a grid using one-point perspective before adding his figures
which are grasped in their setting almost immediately, while making sense of
the “situation comedy” of a Steen demands time before things fall into place.[13]
Though every Dutch genre painter has
their own style, it is possible to separate out different groups from others.
Thus, mood is different in the genre of De Hooch, Terborch and Vermeer which
depend upon a kind of creative ambiguity since it is up to the viewer to try to
penetrate the calm passivity of these mothers, children, couples and nurses who
betray little to the viewer through expression or gesture. By contrast, the
group of Metsu, Steen and van Ostade relies more on a standardized repertoire
of facial expressions and cultural stereotypes all easily legible to the
viewer: “mothers are benign, urchins giggle, teachers and doctors look sober or
affronted.”[14]
Jan Steen, A Merry Family, 1668, oil on canvas, 110.5 x 141 cm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam. |
Gabriel Metsu, A Musical Party, 1659, Oil on
canvas, 62 x 54 cm, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York.
|
Johannes Vermeer, A Lady at the Virginal with a Gentleman, 'The Music Lesson,' oil on canvas, Oil on canvas, Royal Collection. |
Hogarth: Genre in England without the Dutch?
As Hollander points out, Hogarth completely eliminated the
Dutch element from his scenes of everyday life, or to be more accurate his
vignettes of the manners and customs of his society. Though at first sight, one
might be reminded of Dutch genre in Hogarth’s prints and paintings of the
antics and foibles of modern life, the situation is more complex.[15]
Some scholars rightly state that Hogarth turned to Italy and France for
inspiration, as for example in the Marriage
Ć la mode, where the French and Italian paintings are included as satiric
comment on the decadent continental tradition of collecting and connoisseurship.[16]
However, there were Dutch precedents in England when Hogarth was establishing
himself. Hogarth may have been influenced by the Haarlem painter Egbert van
Heemskerk who came to England in 1680 and may be the missing link between
Brouwer’s genre scenes and Hogarth’s moral vignettes of modern life.[17]
Both Heemskerck and Hogarth painted scenes of political life, and the Dutch
influence can be seen there. Yet despite his indisputable use of continental
artistic sources, Hogarth was keen to distance himself from the idea of being
dependent on foreign styles of art; he therefore worked hard to produce his own
home-grown brand of art, which as Perry says is about midway between genre and
history painting, though there is no proof he was influenced by the more
elegant genre of Ter Borch as she suggests.[18]
In Hogarth’s famous Self-Portrait
with his pug Trump, he shows himself as an English modern painter, his personal
emblem.[19]
With books by Shakespeare, Milton, and Swift (labelled in the finished
engraving), and the palette with the legend “The Line of Beauty,” Hogarth shows
himself as he wishes his public to see him.[20]
Using the pseudonym “Britophil,” Hogarth used the newspapers to campaign
against the overblown and effusive jargon of the Catholic painters on the
continent. Cinematic parallels and comics may be appropriate here since
Hogarth’s scenes from such series as the Rake’s
Progress resembling the modern strip cartoon format in newspapers, or story
board format used in modern film.
William Hogarth, Gin Lane, 1751, engraving. |
William Hogarth, The Painter and his Pug, 1745, oil on canvas, 91 x 71 cm, Tate Britain, London. |
William Hogarth, An Election Entertainment, 1755, oil on canvas, Sir John Soane’s Museum.+ London. |
Egbert van Heemskerck, Election in the Guildhall, Oxford, 1687, Oxford Town Hall, Oxford. |
William Hogarth, The Rake’s Progress 8. |
William Hogarth, Marriage a la Mode; I, the
Marriage Contract, oil on canvas, National Gallery, London.
|
Slides
1) Jan Steen, Prince’s Day, 1660-79, oil on panel, 46 x 62.5 cm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam.[21]
2) Sir Joshua Reynolds, Self-Portrait, 1788, oil on panel, 75.1 x 63.4 cm, Royal Collection.
3) Jan Steen, Interior of a Tavern with Cardplayers & a Violin Player, 1663-70, oil on canvas, 82 x 70.4 cm.
4) Gerard Ter Borch, The Letter, c. 1660-5, oil on canvas, 81.9 x 68.4 x 12.0 cm, Royal Collection.
5) Rembrandt van Rhyn, Anna, Tobit, and the Kid, 1626, oil on panel, 39.5 x 30 cm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam.
6) Salomon de Bray, Book and Picture Shop, 1628, pen and ink and wash on paper, 7.6 x 7.6 cm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam.
7) Jan Wouwermans, A Winter Scene with a Fair on Ice, 1657, oil on panel, 60.2 x 83.1 cm, Royal Collection.
8) Sir Joshua Reynolds, Self-Portrait as a Young Man, 1753-8, oil on canvas, 737 x 616 mm, Tate Britain, London.
9) Sir Joshua Reynolds, Garrick between Tragedy and Comedy, 1761, oil on canvas, 148 x 183 cm, Private Collection.
10) Sir Joshua Reynolds, Portrait of Garrick, Royal Collection, 1768, oil on canvas, 77 x 64 cm, Royal Collection.
11) William Hogarth, David Garrick as Richard III, 1745, oil on canvas, Walker Art Gallery, Liverpool.
12) Joshua Reynolds, Mrs Siddons as the Tragic Muse, 1789, oil on canvas, 240 x 148 cm, Dulwich Picture Gallery.
13) Adriaen van Ostade, The Skaters, Peasants in an Interior, 1650, oil on panel, 44 x 35.5 cm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam.
14) Adriaen van Ostade, The Painter’s Studio, 1670-75, oil on panel, 37 x 36 cm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam.
15) Gabriel Metsu, A Musical Party, 1659, Oil on canvas, 62 x 54 cm, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York.
16) Jan Steen, A Merry Family, 1668, oil on canvas, 110.5 x 141 cm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam.
17) Johannes Vermeer, A Woman pouring Milk, c. 1660, oil on canvas, 45.5 x 41 cm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam.
18) Johannes Vermeer, The Love Letter, c. 1669-70, oil on canvas, 44 x 38.5 cm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam.
19) Johannes Vermeer, A Lady at the Virginal with a Gentleman, 'The Music Lesson,' oil on canvas, Oil on canvas, Royal Collection.
20) Rembrandt van Rhyn, Musical Company, 1626, oil on panel, 63.5 x 48 cm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam.
21) Pieter de Hooch, Cardplayers in a Sunlit Room, 1658, oil on canvas, 77.2 x 67.4 cm, Royal Collection.
22) Samuel van Hoogstraten, Peep Show, 1655-60, oil & egg tempera on wood, 58 x 88 x 60.5 cm, National Gallery, London.[22]
23) Pieter de Hooch, Mother Lacing Her Bodice beside a Cradle, 1659-60, Oil on canvas, 92 x 100 cm, Staatliche Museen, Berlin.
24) Pieter de Hooch, At the Linen Closet, 1665, Oil on canvas, 72 x 77,5 cm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam.
25) After Frans van Mieris the Elder, A Man Pulling a Lapdog’s Ear 1660, oil on panel, 27.6 x 20.1 cm, Royal Collection.
26) Egbert van Heemskerck, Tavern Interior with Chess Players, Oil on canvas, 64 x 79 cm, Private collection.
27) Egbert van Heemskerck, Election in the Guildhall, Oxford, 1687, Oxford Town Hall, Oxford.
28) William Hogarth, An Election Entertainment, 1755, oil on canvas, Sir John Soane’s Museum.+ London.
29) William Hogarth, The Painter and his Pug, 1745, oil on canvas, 91 x 71 cm, Tate Britain, London.
30) William Hogarth, The Painter and his Pug, 1749, engraving, British Museum.
31) William Hogarth, Captain Coram, 1740, oil on canvas, 238.7 x 147.3 cm, Thomas Coram Foundation, London.
32) Hogarth, Portrait of Six of his Servants, 1750-5, oil on canvas, 630 x 755 mm, Tate Britain, London.[23]
33) William Hogarth, Beer Street & Gin Lane, 1751, engraving.[24]
34) William Hogarth, The Rake’s Progress 1.
35) William Hogarth, The Rake’s Progress 8.
36) William Hogarth, Gin Lane, 1750-51, Etching and line engraving, 359 x 341 mm, Various collections.
37) William Hogarth, Marriage a la Mode; I, the Marriage Contract, oil on canvas, National Gallery, London.
38) William Hogarth, Marriage a la Mode; II, after the Marriage, National Gallery, London.
[1]
Alpers, The Art of Describing, xvii.
[2]
Constable’s “pure apprehension of natural effect” comes to mind.
[3] Joshua Reynolds, Discourses, ed. Pat Rogers, (Penguin,
1992), Discourse IV 129-130. « The painters of the Dutch
school have still more locality. With them, a history-piece is properly a portrait
of themselves; whether they describe the inside or outside of their houses, we
have their own people engaged in their own peculiar occupations; working or
drinking, playing or fighting. The circumstances that enter into a picture of
this kind, are so far from giving a general view of human life, that they
exhibit all the minute particularities of a nation differing in several
respects from the rest of mankind.” This passage is discussed in John Barrell’s
The Political Theory of Painting from
Reynolds to Hazlitt: The Body of the Public (Yale University Press, 1985,
rep. 1995), 74-75.
[4]
Westermann, Art of the Dutch Republic,
40.
[5]
Linda Walsh, “Charles Le Brun: Art Dictator of France” in Academies, Museums and Canons of Art, ed. Gill Perry and Colin
Cunningham, (Yale University Press, Open University, 1999), 86-123, 93). History
painting (including literary, historical, mythological narratives, sometimes of
an allegorical nature, as well as studies of individual saints, like the
Virgin); portraiture (the higher the status of the person, the higher its
position); genre (in the sense of scenes from everyday life); landscape;
still-life.
[6] Anne
Hollander, Moving Pictures (Harvard
University Press, 1991), 241.
[7]
Gill Perry, “’Mere Face Painters’? Hogarth, Reynolds and ideas of academic art
in eighteenth-century Britain” in Academies,
124-168, 126f.
[8]
For Vermeer and the camera obscura, Philip Steadman, Vermeer’s Camera: Uncovering the Truth behind the Masterpieces
(Oxford, 2002); on photography and Vermeer, Ivan Gaskell, Vermeer’s Wager: Speculations on Art History, Theory and Museums
(Reaktion, 2000).
[9]
Mariƫt Westermann, The Art of the Dutch
Republic 1585-1718 (Everyman Art, 1996).
[10]
Anne Hollander, Moving Pictures
(Harvard University Press, 1991), 119- 195.
[11] Hollander,
Moving Pictures, 126.
[12]
Alpers…difference between Italian perspective and Dutch art of describing.
[13] Hollander,
Moving Pictures, 127. But note that
early De Hooch from his Rotterdam period resemble more of the Steen disorder.
[14] Hollander,
Moving Pictures, 130.
[15] Hollander
claims that far from the modern narrative with its “cameralike, subjective
expressiveness,” Hogarth’s sources go back to “medieval carvings or the
earliest danse macabre prints, before
Holbein where form imparts “moral meaning” just as much as the subject matter, Moving Pictures, 244.
[16]
See the analysis of Hogarth and artistic xenophobia which is used strategically
in Matthew Craske, Art in Europe
1700-1830, (OUP, 1997), 109. Elis Waterhouse (Painting in Britain, 164) quotes Fielding’s introduction to Tom Jones which Fielding describes as
his bill of fare to human nature which he will “has and ragoo…with all the high
French and Italian seasoning of affectation.”
[17]
For van Heemskerck and the painting of “common life” in late 17th
century, Waterhouse, Painting in Britain,
161-162.
[18] Perry,
“’Mere Face Painters’?, 156.
[19]
Crask, Art in Europe, 109: “By
choosing this aggressive little English dog as his personal emblem Hogarth created
his own image as an iconic symbol of a certain thoroughly British quality of
pugnacious independence of mind.”
[21]
From the Rijk’s web site: “Prince’s Day! This popular feast-day celebrated the
birthday (14 November 1650) of Prince William III of Orange-Nassau. How this
was done is explained on the piece of paper on the floor in the middle foreground.
This translates as: ‘To the health of the Nassau laddie, in one hand a rapier,
and in the other a glass raised gladly.’ This is sure to boost spirits; the
revellers take no notice of the portrait of the prince ‘overlooking’ the scene.”
[23]
From Tate website: “This unusual group portrait originally hung in Hogarth’s
studio where it must have served as an advertisement for the artist’s
unrivalled skill in characterisation. The picture consists of a series of
unrelated studies. Hogarth has achieved a unified composition through a
symmetrical arrangement of the heads and a consistent light source coming from
the upper left. Hogarth’s decision to paint his own servants together, outside
the confines of their daily routine is quite unique. Perhaps the most striking
aspect of this picture is the collective sense of dignity and humanity
displayed by this assemblage of unassuming individuals.” Link
Excellent post!
ReplyDeleteTo Reynolds, a subject in the picture was essential because painting had to be didactic and had to impart moral guidance to the spectator. Whether one agrees with Reynolds or not, he was wrongest (sic) about Dutch art of the 17th century. Even the smallest still life images and domestic interiors imparted moral guidance... the raising of children, the handling of servants, relationships between the genders, the transient nature of life on earth, proper behaviour in taverns, public morality on the boards of hospitals and orphanages etc etc.
ReplyDeleteMusee des Beaux Arts
W. H. Auden
About suffering they were never wrong,
The old Masters: how well they understood
Its human position: how it takes place
While someone else is eating or opening a window or just walking dully along;
How, when the aged are reverently, passionately waiting
For the miraculous birth, there always must be
Children who did not specially want it to happen, skating
On a pond at the edge of the wood:
They never forgot
That even the dreadful martyrdom must run its course
Anyhow in a corner, some untidy spot
Where the dogs go on with their doggy life and the torturer's horse
Scratches its innocent behind on a tree.
In Breughel's Icarus, for instance: how everything turns away
Quite leisurely from the disaster; the ploughman may
Have heard the splash, the forsaken cry,
But for him it was not an important failure; the sun shone
As it had to on the white legs disappearing into the green
Water, and the expensive delicate ship that must have seen
Something amazing, a boy falling out of the sky,
Had somewhere to get to and sailed calmly on.