This past week, while I was in the DC area on some family business, I had the good fortune to be able to see the exhibition on Vermeer and the Masters of Genre Painting at the National Gallery. It is an outstanding exhibition that is set to close soon. I read this book by Jane Jelley as some homework to prepare for working through the show. I am also reading the official exhibition guide and heartily recommend it along with Jelley’s book.
I will readily admit to being underburdened by detailed knowledge of serious writing about the fine arts, especially painting. My motivation to change that is not helped by knowing the volatility around the pricing of major works or by how the “experts” regularly get beaten on forensic issues such as authenticating questionable works by the great masters. This has been a problem over time regarding Vermeer, even though it appears to be less problematic at present. Having said this, the research gets very interesting for me once it starts to consider painters as members of a larger more institutionalized system of craft production and marketing. The recent work of Richard Sennett on craftsmanship comes to mind.
What makes Vermeer so interesting? Well to start with, his paintings are astonishingly beautiful and without many comparisons in terms of craft. In addition, only a small number of them have survived. I realize that people have different tastes, but I can recall my first introductions to Vermeer over forty years ago and I cannot think of another artist that has had such a visceral effect on me. It is hard to explain. Then, add to the quality of the paintings the fact that virtually nothing is known about Vermeer. He died nearly bankrupt at the age of 43 and fell into near obscurity for over a century after his death. Little is certain about what he even looked like and much of the history of Vermeer scholarship has been concerned with narrowing down the official listing of his actual paintings to 30 something in total.
Apparently in Vermeer scholarship there is the additional issue of whether the distinctiveness of Vermeer’s work stems in part from his use of optical equipment that was just developing in Europe in the mid-17th century, in particular the “camera obscure”. While I am sympathetic to the “who cares? response to this hypothetical, it has apparently had an internal logic in which some might denigrate the quality of the works if they were aided somehow by better optics. Jelley, who is an artist herself, makes this line of research an important part of her book and strikes what seems to be a balanced position. I am not sure how deep I want to go on this set of issues, but it was interesting and informative, especially about elite artisans at the height of the Dutch golden age.
What was more interesting to me was how Vermeer and the other top Dutch painters built up the area of “genre painting” to serve their wealthy clients and their big commissions at a time when the economy was humming along and not crippled by wars. Today, we would talk about a common business model concerning how these artists developed their works with a knowledge of what the other top painters were doing. This was the focus of the National Gallery exhibition. It is an interesting story about a brief but extraordinary flowering of Dutch art.
Jelley does a good job at telling her story and explaining how painters at the time went about their business. This leads to some really interesting results. For example, the prominence in this genre painting of indoor settings was as much a function of the techniques that artists used in preparing their surfaces, mixing their paints, and actually constructing their paintings as it was the subject matter that the painters were addressing in their art. Technology made painting more of an indoor activity in the 17th century than it would become later, for example with impressionist artists.
Jelley’s book is also well constructed with high quality visuals - important for an art book.