My mother, a dutch immigrant, had always favored Rembrandt's style (although, I always found the Renoir more appealing). I remember her having note cards with his portrait images on them, which she would send when she corresponded with relatives who still lived in the Netherlands. I don't remember ever asking why she liked the Rembrandt print better, but I do remember catching her stare at it on several occasions with a thoughtful look on her face.
According to Simon Schama, Rembrandt van Rijn was one of the first artists to make use of the textures oil painting could create, He was able to create depth in his detail of rich, heavy fabrics and fluidity in the smoothness of skin. It appeared, the more heavy his stress became in life, the heavier handed his brush became.
I was most intrigued by the self-portraits Schama shared with the audience. As Schama described, Rembrandt wanted to create "art that exists to tell the truth about the human condition". This was often evident in the artists ability to make the eyes tell the story.
In his earliest self portrait, Rembrandt painted himself in his studio, likely gazing at a work-in-progress. The gleaming edge of the canvas suggests something brilliant about to be created, and the well defined lines throughout the background and foreground seemed to me to only emphasize the vulnerability of the young painter. And then, there are the eyes - innocent, pure, almost like a young animal, unaware of how dangerous the environment around him could be.
Jump 20 years forward, and we are given another fine example of Rembrandt's abilities when he paints this self portrait:
At this point in Rembrandt's life, he had become quite admired and famous as a portrait painter of the wealthy. Schama suggested that it was likely Rembrandt was so successful at this craft because he understood the image his clients wanted to portray. In the above portrait, the artist painted himself in a similar fashion, in a noble pose, dressed in lavish clothing. I feel he did an accurate job of portraying his own riches (both in business and in love), but still comes off as a humble, like-able fellow. Again, the eyes tell the story for me. The eyes are more hardened in this later work, but still maintain a softness that pulls the viewer in. They are the eyes of a man who has matured since his days as a young apprentice, but still appreciates the beauty around him.
After being commissioned to paint a piece for the Amsterdam's new town hall (the offer available to him only because another artist had died), Rembrandt portrayed the wealthy town leaders as soldiers in action in his painting entitled "Night Watch".
Although not a self-portrait, I felt this piece represented in the film was worth mentioning, as it was a bold choice to stray from the usual boardroom line-ups painted in the past. But unlike his former portrait clients, it was not what the town leaders had been looking for.
After this very public rejection, the death of his love, Saskia (due to Tuberculosis), and a humiliating bankruptcy, there was a visible shift in the way Rembrandt created. By the 1640's, Rembrandt's work was thought to be old-fashioned by the new aristocrats in society, referred to as the 'Peacock Generation'. But rather than bend to society's new rules, the painter's work became rougher, more textured, sketch-like and much less popular. Some works were even categorized as having an unfinished look to them.
Rembrandt's most powerful self-portrait was one he created later in life.
I found it interesting that he chose to dress himself in rich, heavy fabrics (which he detailed exquisitely with thick brush strokes), even though he had lost everything. All of his possessions, even his reputation was gone. And yet, he portrayed himself in the painting as resting more than comfortably in his golden years. But, his eyes in the portrait are sad, tired and defeated, Rembrandt certainly had a grand imagination when he created this, but he could not hide the truth when he painted the eyes.
When my parents divorced 25 years ago, and both moved, I never again saw the prints that were a fixture of my childhood. And it never occurred to me, until now, to ask what ever became of them.
Maybe, just maybe, the story lies within the heavy lidded eyes of that young girl.
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