What do you think?
Rate this book
The Upside-Down World: Meetings with the Dutch Masters
A Washington Post Notable Book of 2023Plunged into a strange land at twenty-five, Benjamin Moser began an obsessive, decades-long study of the Dutch Masters to set his world right again.
Arriving as a young writer in an ancient Dutch town, Benjamin Moser found himself visiting—casually at first, and then more and more obsessively—the country’s great museums. Inside these old buildings, he discovered the remains of the Dutch Golden Age and began to unearth the strange, inspiring, and terrifying stories of the artists who gave shape to one of the most luminous moments in the history of human creativity. Beyond the sainted Rembrandt—who harbored a startling darkness—and the mysterious Vermeer, whose true subject, it turned out, was lurking in plain sight, Moser got to know a whole galaxy of the doomed virtuoso Carel Fabritius, the anguished wunderkind Jan Lievens, the deaf prodigy Hendrik Avercamp. And through their artwork, he got to know their country, from the translucent churches of Pieter Saenredam to Paulus Potter’s muddy barnyards, and from Pieter de Hooch’s cozy hearths to Jacob van Ruisdael’s tragic trees.
Year after year, as he tried to make a life for himself in the Netherlands, Moser found friends among these centuries-dead artists. And he found that they, too, were struggling with the same questions that he was. Why do we make art? What even is art, anyway—and what is an artist? What does it mean to succeed as an artist, and what does it mean to fail? Is art a consolation—or a mortal danger?
The Upside-Down World is an invitation to ask these questions, and to turn them on their to look, and then to look again. This is Holland and its great artists as we’ve never seen them before. And it’s a sumptuously illustrated, highly personal coming-of-age-story, twenty years in the a revealing self-portrait by one of the most acclaimed writers of his generation.
Arriving as a young writer in an ancient Dutch town, Benjamin Moser found himself visiting—casually at first, and then more and more obsessively—the country’s great museums. Inside these old buildings, he discovered the remains of the Dutch Golden Age and began to unearth the strange, inspiring, and terrifying stories of the artists who gave shape to one of the most luminous moments in the history of human creativity. Beyond the sainted Rembrandt—who harbored a startling darkness—and the mysterious Vermeer, whose true subject, it turned out, was lurking in plain sight, Moser got to know a whole galaxy of the doomed virtuoso Carel Fabritius, the anguished wunderkind Jan Lievens, the deaf prodigy Hendrik Avercamp. And through their artwork, he got to know their country, from the translucent churches of Pieter Saenredam to Paulus Potter’s muddy barnyards, and from Pieter de Hooch’s cozy hearths to Jacob van Ruisdael’s tragic trees.
Year after year, as he tried to make a life for himself in the Netherlands, Moser found friends among these centuries-dead artists. And he found that they, too, were struggling with the same questions that he was. Why do we make art? What even is art, anyway—and what is an artist? What does it mean to succeed as an artist, and what does it mean to fail? Is art a consolation—or a mortal danger?
The Upside-Down World is an invitation to ask these questions, and to turn them on their to look, and then to look again. This is Holland and its great artists as we’ve never seen them before. And it’s a sumptuously illustrated, highly personal coming-of-age-story, twenty years in the a revealing self-portrait by one of the most acclaimed writers of his generation.
395 pages, Kindle Edition
Published October 10, 2023
140 people are currently reading
1554 people want to read
About the author
Benjamin Moser
43 books257 followersBenjamin Moser is a writer, editor, critic, and translator who was born in Houston in 1976 and lives in the Netherlands. After attending high school in Texas and France, he graduated from Brown University with a degree in History. He earned his M.A. and Ph.D. from the University of Utrecht.
He worked at Foreign Affairs magazine and Alfred A. Knopf in New York before becoming an editor at the Harvill Press in London. He was the New Books columnist for Harper's Magazine before becoming a Contributing Editor on visual art and a regular contributor to The New York Review of Books. His work has appeared in many publications in the United States and abroad, including Condé Nast Traveler, Newsweek, and The American Scholar.
His first book, Why This World: A Biography of Clarice Lispector, was published by Oxford University Press (USA), Haus Publishing (UK), Cosac Naify (Brazil), and Civilização (Portugal). Editions are forthcoming in France and Germany. He is the Series Editor of the new retranslations of Clarice Lispector to be published in the United States by New Directions and in the United Kingdom by Penguin Modern Classics.
He worked at Foreign Affairs magazine and Alfred A. Knopf in New York before becoming an editor at the Harvill Press in London. He was the New Books columnist for Harper's Magazine before becoming a Contributing Editor on visual art and a regular contributor to The New York Review of Books. His work has appeared in many publications in the United States and abroad, including Condé Nast Traveler, Newsweek, and The American Scholar.
His first book, Why This World: A Biography of Clarice Lispector, was published by Oxford University Press (USA), Haus Publishing (UK), Cosac Naify (Brazil), and Civilização (Portugal). Editions are forthcoming in France and Germany. He is the Series Editor of the new retranslations of Clarice Lispector to be published in the United States by New Directions and in the United Kingdom by Penguin Modern Classics.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 77 reviews
May 28, 2024
This is about Dutch painters. You know. The Masters. But not just Rembrandt and Vermeer. the other ones also who deserve our attention. It's a great book. It's a shame I just read 'Thunderclap' by Laura Cumming (also outstanding) and I thought, 'Am I really going to read about the Dutch Golden Age when I just read about it?' But I'm glad I did. This is the equal to that book, but more artists, more paintings. And Moser does not cheat with the reproductions, so vivid on the page. Neither is he miserly with them, if there is a painting he is talking about, it is in the pages. The final essay, on what it is like to be a foreigner, what it is like to come back to America, and everything else, is masterful.
October 19, 2023
Self-discovery immersed in the Dutch Golden Age (cities in The Netherlands; 1976 to present-day): “In every age, art is an experiment for every artist, just as, in every age, life is an experiment for every person,” wrote Benjamin Moser years ago in an article, Can Writers Still ‘Make it New’? Soon after, he wrote about writing as a “calling,” as “an inner purpose,” and “a means of understanding, and thus of elevating, our everyday lives.”
Those essays were written during Moser’s quest to learn “something new” about the great Dutch artists and their 17th century masterwork paintings as his way to understand and connect with the new country he moved to when he was twenty-five, The Netherlands. The Upside-Down World: Meeting with the Dutch Masters took nearly twenty-five more years to accomplish.
Can you imagine spending nearly half your life “consumed” by one thing? Granted a huge undertaking given how prolific the era was, and how difficult to unearth something new for most of the artists he applies a microscopic art critic’s lens to, most unknown to many of us. Repeatedly he chants, “Almost nothing was known.” The challenge for others, Rembrandt the most famous, was to discover something new that meshed with Moser’s mission to find “something higher” for mastering “something about life” – and himself.
From an art appreciation point-of-view, you will learn why Rembrandt was “great in every field,” even if many of his paintings are too dark and gruesome for your taste. The real intrigue, though, is understanding the man behind the book who devoted so much passion, dogged pursuit, research, and speculation immersing us in Moser’s study of the Dutch masters.
The writer sparks interest since the two books he’s written garnered the kind of recognition for excellence he strives for. Why This World: A Biography of Clarice Lispector was named finalist for the National Critics Award, Notable Book by the New York Times, and won Brazil’s Cultural Diplomacy State Prize for his biography of their Ukrainian-born novelist. Sontag: Her Life and Work earned him a Pulitzer-Prize.
As a reviewer of memoirs, I can offer opinions. Art historians can address the rest.
Handsomely designed with high-quality glossy paper and over 300 illustrations, Moser’s third book looks and feels like an art book. So why is it billed as “a revealing self-portrait”?
Because the memoir is something new. Seeming to say you don’t need to know my intimate details to know me. Know what matters to me, instead. Thus, casting an atmosphere of mystique like some of the artists known for their atmosphere, moods, perspectives.
Moser admires artists whose work is subtle. So is he. Attracted to the elegance of subtlety, he’s drawn to art that “evoked emotions that were more intense because they are indirect.” Is Moser explaining his memoirist approach demonstrates his intensity of purpose by being indirect? (Direct exceptions found in the Introduction and Afterword.)
“When you see Vermeer’s work together,” you “wonder what they are really saying,” echoes how we feel assessing what the author’s art critiques and commentary are really saying about himself.
The prose is both elegiac and down-to-earth. Valuing authenticity, not following another artist’s style, render Rembrandt’s followers as not rising to greatness. Great art doesn’t have to be loved, but it does have to create something unique.
Artists in this group include Pieter Saenredam’s architectural perspectives. “Was he aware, at the time, of the enormity of the task?” Moser asks. Is this also a statement about his young self when he began this enormous endeavor?
That the Houston born American connects with artists who “saw beauty in old things,” felt a “closeness” to these Old World artists tells you something about his sense of belongingness in a world that valued craftsmanship. A stiller world, one that brought him peacefulness.
“Puzzled” by the meaning of an artist’s painting seems to imply puzzlement with today’s upside-down world. This is also an art term Dutch artists used for describing art that turned the bourgeoisie world on its head.
Discussing “realism” versus “idealism,” Moser points out that although one of the genres the Dutch are famous for — still-life paintings — may not have been as realistic as they appear since life in the 1600s was harsh for the majority of Dutch people. Strikingly, many artists featured, and their families, died young. Forty, “old.”
We shouldn’t be surprised artists want to lift us up. Vermeer a prime example of brilliant light. Hendrick Avercamp for his spirited ice skating scenes.
Moser too seeks lightness, “happiness” not loss. “Artists know their failures as well as anyone, which is why I don’t like to dwell upon this painful thought.”
The prose is the work of a wordsmith who has a “fear of ignorance.” You’ll learn new words. The one that pleases especially is sprezzatura, defined in the art world as a work that gives the impression of ease but took considerable effort – like this unusual memoir told through art.
You will come away with some historical details you won’t forget. For instance, 165,000 “starving” Dutch people after the Holocaust waited in long lines to see a Rembrandt exhibition. Mosher’s heartening explanation is that art is a “symbol of dignity of a free people.”
It’s refreshing that even though a “jewel-like” Vermeer painting may be “so perfect,” others “shocked.” Moser reactions are telling as those failed paintings brought him “closer” to the artist as “a man struggling” – like he apparently has.
Moser wrote the Vermeer chapter in the third-person voice – “the man who writes this sentence is forty-five years old” – when he could look back and feel “proud” of his work. The struggles he went through, he says, are no longer as important to him as when he began his journey. Failure isn’t “the end,” rather the “beginning.”
Moser has revealed himself as a man of seriousness, scholarship, dedication to writing as a noble profession creating his own “aura” of the grace he attaches to Dutch paintings.
The concept of grace plays out, then, artistically and personally. A painting’s “charisma” defined as “that indescribable quality of grace.” It’s one of many observations and speculations that make you stop reading to think.
Memorable painters include: Paulus Potter for the animals he painted that “elevated” their status – serene cows roaming, animals in the barn, majestic dogs. Jan Steen for his moods, “warning against vanity and vice.” Meindert Hobbema for the “balletic sway of the trees.” Jacob Van Ruisdael for his landscapes Moser explains differently than our Nature imagery. Its “land-shaped” reflecting how Dutch land had to be shaped by man due to its flatness and waterways. Moser feels “close to this invisible man,” to his “introspection” and “meditation,” aspects that fit his thoughtful commentary.
Moser still lives in the same 17th century Dutch house in Utrecht when he set off on his coming-of-age journey. The same house Vermeer lived in! He loves – and we appreciate how much it means to him – to look out the same windows seeing what the great artist saw. Sharing what matters to him.
Those essays were written during Moser’s quest to learn “something new” about the great Dutch artists and their 17th century masterwork paintings as his way to understand and connect with the new country he moved to when he was twenty-five, The Netherlands. The Upside-Down World: Meeting with the Dutch Masters took nearly twenty-five more years to accomplish.
Can you imagine spending nearly half your life “consumed” by one thing? Granted a huge undertaking given how prolific the era was, and how difficult to unearth something new for most of the artists he applies a microscopic art critic’s lens to, most unknown to many of us. Repeatedly he chants, “Almost nothing was known.” The challenge for others, Rembrandt the most famous, was to discover something new that meshed with Moser’s mission to find “something higher” for mastering “something about life” – and himself.
From an art appreciation point-of-view, you will learn why Rembrandt was “great in every field,” even if many of his paintings are too dark and gruesome for your taste. The real intrigue, though, is understanding the man behind the book who devoted so much passion, dogged pursuit, research, and speculation immersing us in Moser’s study of the Dutch masters.
The writer sparks interest since the two books he’s written garnered the kind of recognition for excellence he strives for. Why This World: A Biography of Clarice Lispector was named finalist for the National Critics Award, Notable Book by the New York Times, and won Brazil’s Cultural Diplomacy State Prize for his biography of their Ukrainian-born novelist. Sontag: Her Life and Work earned him a Pulitzer-Prize.
As a reviewer of memoirs, I can offer opinions. Art historians can address the rest.
Handsomely designed with high-quality glossy paper and over 300 illustrations, Moser’s third book looks and feels like an art book. So why is it billed as “a revealing self-portrait”?
Because the memoir is something new. Seeming to say you don’t need to know my intimate details to know me. Know what matters to me, instead. Thus, casting an atmosphere of mystique like some of the artists known for their atmosphere, moods, perspectives.
Moser admires artists whose work is subtle. So is he. Attracted to the elegance of subtlety, he’s drawn to art that “evoked emotions that were more intense because they are indirect.” Is Moser explaining his memoirist approach demonstrates his intensity of purpose by being indirect? (Direct exceptions found in the Introduction and Afterword.)
“When you see Vermeer’s work together,” you “wonder what they are really saying,” echoes how we feel assessing what the author’s art critiques and commentary are really saying about himself.
The prose is both elegiac and down-to-earth. Valuing authenticity, not following another artist’s style, render Rembrandt’s followers as not rising to greatness. Great art doesn’t have to be loved, but it does have to create something unique.
Artists in this group include Pieter Saenredam’s architectural perspectives. “Was he aware, at the time, of the enormity of the task?” Moser asks. Is this also a statement about his young self when he began this enormous endeavor?
That the Houston born American connects with artists who “saw beauty in old things,” felt a “closeness” to these Old World artists tells you something about his sense of belongingness in a world that valued craftsmanship. A stiller world, one that brought him peacefulness.
“Puzzled” by the meaning of an artist’s painting seems to imply puzzlement with today’s upside-down world. This is also an art term Dutch artists used for describing art that turned the bourgeoisie world on its head.
Discussing “realism” versus “idealism,” Moser points out that although one of the genres the Dutch are famous for — still-life paintings — may not have been as realistic as they appear since life in the 1600s was harsh for the majority of Dutch people. Strikingly, many artists featured, and their families, died young. Forty, “old.”
We shouldn’t be surprised artists want to lift us up. Vermeer a prime example of brilliant light. Hendrick Avercamp for his spirited ice skating scenes.
Moser too seeks lightness, “happiness” not loss. “Artists know their failures as well as anyone, which is why I don’t like to dwell upon this painful thought.”
The prose is the work of a wordsmith who has a “fear of ignorance.” You’ll learn new words. The one that pleases especially is sprezzatura, defined in the art world as a work that gives the impression of ease but took considerable effort – like this unusual memoir told through art.
You will come away with some historical details you won’t forget. For instance, 165,000 “starving” Dutch people after the Holocaust waited in long lines to see a Rembrandt exhibition. Mosher’s heartening explanation is that art is a “symbol of dignity of a free people.”
It’s refreshing that even though a “jewel-like” Vermeer painting may be “so perfect,” others “shocked.” Moser reactions are telling as those failed paintings brought him “closer” to the artist as “a man struggling” – like he apparently has.
Moser wrote the Vermeer chapter in the third-person voice – “the man who writes this sentence is forty-five years old” – when he could look back and feel “proud” of his work. The struggles he went through, he says, are no longer as important to him as when he began his journey. Failure isn’t “the end,” rather the “beginning.”
Moser has revealed himself as a man of seriousness, scholarship, dedication to writing as a noble profession creating his own “aura” of the grace he attaches to Dutch paintings.
The concept of grace plays out, then, artistically and personally. A painting’s “charisma” defined as “that indescribable quality of grace.” It’s one of many observations and speculations that make you stop reading to think.
Memorable painters include: Paulus Potter for the animals he painted that “elevated” their status – serene cows roaming, animals in the barn, majestic dogs. Jan Steen for his moods, “warning against vanity and vice.” Meindert Hobbema for the “balletic sway of the trees.” Jacob Van Ruisdael for his landscapes Moser explains differently than our Nature imagery. Its “land-shaped” reflecting how Dutch land had to be shaped by man due to its flatness and waterways. Moser feels “close to this invisible man,” to his “introspection” and “meditation,” aspects that fit his thoughtful commentary.
Moser still lives in the same 17th century Dutch house in Utrecht when he set off on his coming-of-age journey. The same house Vermeer lived in! He loves – and we appreciate how much it means to him – to look out the same windows seeing what the great artist saw. Sharing what matters to him.
July 9, 2024
There's something about Dutch, or Netherlandish, art that I really, really love. I can appreciate art from all over the place and from any time period, but this little area of Europe has produced some of my favourite works through various centuries. Benjamin Moser's The Upside-Down World: Meetings with the Dutch Masters is focused on the Dutch artists of the 17th century.
Each chapter is about a different painter. We get some background information (though it was quite evident that there are many of these artists whose biographical details have been lost to time), discussions of their most important works, their painting styles and their legacy. There are of course some big names here like Rembrandt and Vermeer, but most were people that I had never heard of. That's one of the things that I loved about The Upside-Down World - it's introduced me to many great artists that I was otherwise unfamiliar with. Moser's own voice is very clear as he walks readers through the chapters, making comments and observations, and offering his personal perspective.
And I have to also say that the physical book is perfect. Not only does it have a cool cover, but the pages are thick and glossy, allowing for many of the paintings Moser writes about to be printed in all their glory. No black and white images on plain paper here. Some of these paintings even take up a full page or two. When you're writing a book about art, this is the only way it should ever be.
I recently tried running a themed book club at work that unfortunately proved to be very unsuccessful. The only time anyone showed up was the month I chose books about art and artists. The individual was saying that he's never had an emotional reaction to a work of art, and was waiting for that moment, wondering if he was doing something wrong. I said I had never had that reaction, either. And it's true that I've never felt my eyes well up, or felt a tightness in my throat just from looking at a painting. But Moser talks about the aura of art - the feeling a painting can give off. And I think that's maybe the connection I get to a work. Some of these artists evoke such a feeling of place, time and space; you can almost feel what it would be like to stand in that room, to be in that doorway heading outside, to hear the sounds of the open window. And this can happen regardless of whether you know any specific details about what the painting depicts, which is wonderful.
Much food for thought is to be found in The Upside-Down World. It was a great book to spend some time in.
Each chapter is about a different painter. We get some background information (though it was quite evident that there are many of these artists whose biographical details have been lost to time), discussions of their most important works, their painting styles and their legacy. There are of course some big names here like Rembrandt and Vermeer, but most were people that I had never heard of. That's one of the things that I loved about The Upside-Down World - it's introduced me to many great artists that I was otherwise unfamiliar with. Moser's own voice is very clear as he walks readers through the chapters, making comments and observations, and offering his personal perspective.
And I have to also say that the physical book is perfect. Not only does it have a cool cover, but the pages are thick and glossy, allowing for many of the paintings Moser writes about to be printed in all their glory. No black and white images on plain paper here. Some of these paintings even take up a full page or two. When you're writing a book about art, this is the only way it should ever be.
I recently tried running a themed book club at work that unfortunately proved to be very unsuccessful. The only time anyone showed up was the month I chose books about art and artists. The individual was saying that he's never had an emotional reaction to a work of art, and was waiting for that moment, wondering if he was doing something wrong. I said I had never had that reaction, either. And it's true that I've never felt my eyes well up, or felt a tightness in my throat just from looking at a painting. But Moser talks about the aura of art - the feeling a painting can give off. And I think that's maybe the connection I get to a work. Some of these artists evoke such a feeling of place, time and space; you can almost feel what it would be like to stand in that room, to be in that doorway heading outside, to hear the sounds of the open window. And this can happen regardless of whether you know any specific details about what the painting depicts, which is wonderful.
Much food for thought is to be found in The Upside-Down World. It was a great book to spend some time in.
July 19, 2025
If you have an interest in the Dutch masters (and let's not forget that 'masters' includes a small number of outstanding female artists) then you will love this book. It describes the lives and works of eighteen greats. Its strength is that, while many books on the subject trot out the same basic facts about each artist or work of art, and thereby become repetitive, Moser delves deeper, so that each chapter reveals facts and angles which are fresh.
He is very opinionated and has no hesitation in describing works held as great as being unworthy of such acclaim and doesn't always say why he holds this view. Doubtless this will irritate many but I liked the fact that just because a piece of art is by a great artist, this does not in itself qualify it as great art.
My reservation about the book is that Moser too often tries to interpose himself into the narrative for no good reason and the final pages in an "Afterword" in which he reflects on being an American, on America and living abroad are an error: self-indulgent, pretentious and most of all boring. But these are quibbles about a fine book.
Finally, a word about the actual physical book itself, something I'd normally never comment upon: I don't think I have ever held so heavy a book of this size and that's because it is printed on lush, glossy paper (presumably because there are so many prints within). It is gorgeous and the reproductions magnificent. For me, it is a pity that details of the painting and where they can be seen are confined to an appendix - why not beneath each print? - but, again a quibble. This is a terrific book - if you're interested in the subject, buy it. Better still, if you know someone who is, gift it, as they'll be thrilled. And then borrow it!
He is very opinionated and has no hesitation in describing works held as great as being unworthy of such acclaim and doesn't always say why he holds this view. Doubtless this will irritate many but I liked the fact that just because a piece of art is by a great artist, this does not in itself qualify it as great art.
My reservation about the book is that Moser too often tries to interpose himself into the narrative for no good reason and the final pages in an "Afterword" in which he reflects on being an American, on America and living abroad are an error: self-indulgent, pretentious and most of all boring. But these are quibbles about a fine book.
Finally, a word about the actual physical book itself, something I'd normally never comment upon: I don't think I have ever held so heavy a book of this size and that's because it is printed on lush, glossy paper (presumably because there are so many prints within). It is gorgeous and the reproductions magnificent. For me, it is a pity that details of the painting and where they can be seen are confined to an appendix - why not beneath each print? - but, again a quibble. This is a terrific book - if you're interested in the subject, buy it. Better still, if you know someone who is, gift it, as they'll be thrilled. And then borrow it!
November 19, 2023
This book is so much more than a book about Dutch art. The print quality is gorgeous as are the many pictures but it is the surprising text that deals with learning about yourself and the lessons of moving abroad that are done with grace and wisdom. The art commentary is descriptive and so well done. A book to return to again and again.
January 31, 2024
This is a beautiful book—physically to hold and view with its pleasing (and many) photographs on silky white paper, and to read. The book’s cover too is like a work of art; it lends itself to the marvelous chapters within, each dedicated to a notable artist of the Dutch Golden Age. (On a side note, the cover design is by graphic designer, Paul Sahare, who has an extraordinary list of projects, including the redesign of Ernest Hemingway’s book cover).
Author Benjamin Moser’s study and exploration of Dutch painters goes deeper than the artists and their works; Moser shares meaningful insights based upon his personal experiences with the artworks and of Dutch land and urban-scapes. This book is not an art historian's or academic’s interpretation—it’s extraordinarily better. Moser provides rich reflections that make you think, appreciate, and savor.
“Like wordless music, it [artist Adriaen Coorte’s painting] stimulates feeling without directing it, shutting off the intellect and appealing directly to the senses." (p. 335)
This book is a work of art in itself. I highly recommend it to anyone interested in art, Dutch history, or beautiful things.
Author Benjamin Moser’s study and exploration of Dutch painters goes deeper than the artists and their works; Moser shares meaningful insights based upon his personal experiences with the artworks and of Dutch land and urban-scapes. This book is not an art historian's or academic’s interpretation—it’s extraordinarily better. Moser provides rich reflections that make you think, appreciate, and savor.
“Like wordless music, it [artist Adriaen Coorte’s painting] stimulates feeling without directing it, shutting off the intellect and appealing directly to the senses." (p. 335)
This book is a work of art in itself. I highly recommend it to anyone interested in art, Dutch history, or beautiful things.
November 26, 2025
November 2025. I enjoyed rereading it immensely and will surely revisit it again.
August 2025. This is not just a book about art. It is about searching for something deeper within yourself; about immigration and the tension between belonging and not belonging; about falling in love with a past that no longer exists, yet remains vividly alive in your mind. Absolutely loved it.
August 2025. This is not just a book about art. It is about searching for something deeper within yourself; about immigration and the tension between belonging and not belonging; about falling in love with a past that no longer exists, yet remains vividly alive in your mind. Absolutely loved it.
January 12, 2025
Refleksijos apie olandų tapybos aukso amžių, autoriaus gyvenimo emigracijoje savirefleksijos. Smarkus užmojis, daug menininkų, viską turėtų vienyti viena tema: kas tas menas, kodėl žmonės juo užsiima ir pan. Nežinau, ar knyga pateikia atsakymą, veikiau ne, man susiskaitė fragmentiškai (ir rašyta, sako, dvidešimt metų), ypač antra pusė, kai aprašomi tapytojai tapo vis mažiau žinomi ir autoriui teko pildyti biografinių detalių trūkumą savo pamąstymais. Bet vis tiek radau įdomybių, tai sakau verta, to laikotarpio tapybą tikrai reikia skaityti, kitaip tai tik meistriški paveiksliukai
Currently reading
November 12, 2023.
-
Kijkend op Instagram (3 nov 2023) schoof de auteur dit boek in de aandacht (al vind ik dat nu niet meer terug). Kwam nog min of meer tijdig aan op het Spui25 za (11 nov), ondanks een vertraagde trein en niet uitstappen op Centraal. Kon kiezen uit een plek achter de pilaar of helemaal vooraan (naast de voorlezende dichteres, zoals snel duidelijk werd). Heel fijn om van zo dichtbij het gesprek mee te beleven.
Boeken die decennia nodig hebben om vorm aan te nemen zijn bijna altijd interessant.
Dit boek vult een gat, zoals de auteur opmerkte, tussen technische publicaties en introducties bij het publiek. Die lijken er nauwelijks te zijn.
Dit boek is verrassend fris. Vanuit inburgeringservaringen (overigens duidelijk geen (over)last van IND en DUO) eerlijk verwoord. Doet mij denken aan Pieter Oussoren's "troostend taalgebruik" (IKON). De auteur gaf op za aan eigenlijk nog steeds buitenlander te zijn. Maar doet het er toe, wanneer je in het land leeft, de taal spreekt en de cultuur koestert?
Dit boek acht ik buitengewoon. Een persoonlijke verkenning gekoppeld aan het leven in deze beelden.
Het is met een ongekende kracht (en geleerdheid) verwoord. En ik heb nog maar enkele zinnen van het boek gelezen.
Ben benieuwd of dit boek ooit de P.C. Hooft-prijs krijgt. De eerste buitenlander?
Kortom een tamelijk nuttig boek.
(maar wees niet verbaasd wanneer je er ook twintig jaar over doet om het helemaal door te lezen).
Warm, warm aanbevolen.
https://openlibrary.org/works/OL34470... OL
https://www.goodreads.com/review/show... url review
-
.
-
..
-
Kijkend op Instagram (3 nov 2023) schoof de auteur dit boek in de aandacht (al vind ik dat nu niet meer terug). Kwam nog min of meer tijdig aan op het Spui25 za (11 nov), ondanks een vertraagde trein en niet uitstappen op Centraal. Kon kiezen uit een plek achter de pilaar of helemaal vooraan (naast de voorlezende dichteres, zoals snel duidelijk werd). Heel fijn om van zo dichtbij het gesprek mee te beleven.
Boeken die decennia nodig hebben om vorm aan te nemen zijn bijna altijd interessant.
Dit boek vult een gat, zoals de auteur opmerkte, tussen technische publicaties en introducties bij het publiek. Die lijken er nauwelijks te zijn.
Dit boek is verrassend fris. Vanuit inburgeringservaringen (overigens duidelijk geen (over)last van IND en DUO) eerlijk verwoord. Doet mij denken aan Pieter Oussoren's "troostend taalgebruik" (IKON). De auteur gaf op za aan eigenlijk nog steeds buitenlander te zijn. Maar doet het er toe, wanneer je in het land leeft, de taal spreekt en de cultuur koestert?
Dit boek acht ik buitengewoon. Een persoonlijke verkenning gekoppeld aan het leven in deze beelden.
Het is met een ongekende kracht (en geleerdheid) verwoord. En ik heb nog maar enkele zinnen van het boek gelezen.
Ben benieuwd of dit boek ooit de P.C. Hooft-prijs krijgt. De eerste buitenlander?
Kortom een tamelijk nuttig boek.
(maar wees niet verbaasd wanneer je er ook twintig jaar over doet om het helemaal door te lezen).
Warm, warm aanbevolen.
https://openlibrary.org/works/OL34470... OL
https://www.goodreads.com/review/show... url review
-
.
-
..
June 2, 2024
I was not expecting to enjoy this book as much as I did. I fully assumed that this would be one of those that would sit marked unfinished on my bookshelf for a long time. Moser's essays on the great Dutch masters are however rare in their freshness. Each essay is not just an exposition into the artist's style, subject of choice but also something pivotal in their personal lives. Yet it is not prose that is limited to a simplistic biography. With every essay on a master, the author questions our notions of art? Why some artists get recognised during their lifetimes? Why some get discovered much later? How the mindset of the society reflects in the prevailing art created during the time?
In discussing works by 18 of the great dutch masters, Moser also reveals why the Dutch stand apart from the rest of its European counterparts. He through art demonstrates the advent of capitalism and liberal values, an establishment of the middle class and a marked departure from religious themes which were prevalent in contemporary painters in other parts of Europe at the time.
The way all of the above themes have been brought out in the essays by Benjamin Moser, make it a great read for anyone who enjoys questioning the norm or understanding history (not limited to art history) or simply someone who enjoys connecting the dots!
In discussing works by 18 of the great dutch masters, Moser also reveals why the Dutch stand apart from the rest of its European counterparts. He through art demonstrates the advent of capitalism and liberal values, an establishment of the middle class and a marked departure from religious themes which were prevalent in contemporary painters in other parts of Europe at the time.
The way all of the above themes have been brought out in the essays by Benjamin Moser, make it a great read for anyone who enjoys questioning the norm or understanding history (not limited to art history) or simply someone who enjoys connecting the dots!
December 14, 2024
Almost perfect exploration of the Dutch Masters and the Dutch Golden age with a realistic perspective: real people doing real things, with attitudes and talents shaped by their time and place. The writer also eloquently describes how he is shaped and what he is learning by being an expatriate. I enjoyed a similar book,“All the Beauty in the World,” by Patrick Bringley just slightly more, maybe only because I read it first. Both well worthwhile and beautiful!
November 9, 2025
GREAT art book - hardback edition had fab photos of the paintings discussed, which (shockingly) is not always easily found in art books. Didn’t always agree with the authors assessments, but I thought each chapter did a great job putting each artist in a historical context and bringing them, and their art, to life. Would rec if you’re interested in art, particularly if you wanna know what the big deal is with these famous artists!
December 30, 2024
Delightful little break from fiction. Didn’t care about the author’s personal narrative but I learned a lot about Dutch masters. Did you know that Proust thought Vermeer’s “View of Delft” is the greatest painting in the world?
February 22, 2024
I need to move to Dutch land 😪
November 24, 2023
I enjoyed this combination art history and memoir from Benjamin Moser. His writing was personal, yet also educational. His insights into the various Dutch artists was illuminating and memorable. Put this book on your list if you are an art lover or are planning a visit to the Netherlands!
May 27, 2024
A survey of the artists who shaped one of the most creative moments in human history - Moser is an excellent writer
March 18, 2024
This book is BEAUTIFUL! Of course it is visually stunning, with pages of rich, full-color prints of (in my humble opinion) the most emotionally captivating paintings in art history — those of the Dutch masters. But the words are the most beautiful part of the book.
Moser is unbelievably insightful and skillful. Chapter by chapter, he takes a handful of lines from the history annals — most of the time this is the extent of the knowledge we have today about a 17th-century artist’s life — and weaves this little bit of information about the artist, together with his own deep personal meditations on the individual pieces of art, into a poignant, moving story of how each artist both impacted the Dutch Golden Age and continues to impact the world now. Moser has a knack for aptly capturing the essence of an artist, their paintings, and the emotions they elicit in the viewer. He puts emotions that feel difficult to put into words, into the simplest of words. It is truly beautiful. Moser led me to consider details and perspectives and conclusions about paintings that I could have never reached on my own. I feel like I have grown as a lover and consumer of art by having read this book.
Moser is unbelievably insightful and skillful. Chapter by chapter, he takes a handful of lines from the history annals — most of the time this is the extent of the knowledge we have today about a 17th-century artist’s life — and weaves this little bit of information about the artist, together with his own deep personal meditations on the individual pieces of art, into a poignant, moving story of how each artist both impacted the Dutch Golden Age and continues to impact the world now. Moser has a knack for aptly capturing the essence of an artist, their paintings, and the emotions they elicit in the viewer. He puts emotions that feel difficult to put into words, into the simplest of words. It is truly beautiful. Moser led me to consider details and perspectives and conclusions about paintings that I could have never reached on my own. I feel like I have grown as a lover and consumer of art by having read this book.
November 2, 2023
Begins with a medical autopsy and ends with still life/nature mort. The narrative about the achievement of Dutch painters (from Rembrandt to. . ) overlays a subtext of an author in fear for himself, of making a mark, of even surviving to finish this manuscript. Throughout there is a sense of an ending, an ending countered by artists creating order and identity through art, even amidst 17th century plague and slaughter, and by an author sustained by writing the lives of others. (Living in Holland, Moser willfully pays no attention to contemporary life in Holland.) This book has gotten rhapsodic reviews for its sensitive treatment of art and artists. I thought it was desperate, especially the long afterword about a life divided (in more ways than geography) between Holland and America.
August 10, 2025
pretty pictures 😭 what’s there to say about the dutch masters?
January 23, 2024
More like a 3.5. Starts better than it finishes and a bit over analyzed in parts. The authors journey is the least interesting part but he does a good job on some of the historical research. Could have been put together with a little better flow, I think. Many reproductions of paintings and well made book.
February 2, 2024
Amerikanen die over nederlandse kunst van de 17de eeuw schrijven gaat niet altijd goed.
February 24, 2024
You should have some significant knowledge about dutch artists before attempting to read this book...
February 19, 2024
This is an interesting book. I liked it. Dutch Painting of the 17th century is my favorite period in the history of art.
I am also waiting to receive a similar book (Thunderclap by Laura Cumming). I was wondering if there is some connection between these two books, since both were published in 2023, and both are part memoir and part 17th century Dutch art. The Carel Fabritius chapter in Moser's book has even the same title, thunderclap. But I guess these are just coincidences.
This book by B. Moser is a bit different from other art books. Here, the writer is not an art historian. He is a writer who moved to the Netherlands many years ago, to work and live with his partner there. He wanted to familiarize himself with the Dutch culture, so he started visiting the Dutch Museums and galleries. And he ended up loving this unique art of the Dutch 17th century Masters.
Mr. Moser tries to see the works of art from a more personal point of view. He tries to get in the painter's soul each time. This is something refreshing, because other art books are somewhat austere. But Art is about our souls, about our emotions.
I particularly liked some chapters in this book. There are also some interesting historical information about that period, like, for example, in the chapter about the painter Albert Eckhout, where we can find information about Dutch Colonization and see paintings which we usually don't find in other books.
We can also learn many things about well known painters of the period, like Gerard Ter Borch, Pieter Saenredam, Jacob van Ruisdael, Meindert Hobbema, Rachel Ruysch and others. I loved the inclusion of the still life painter Adriaen Coorte. There are some nice reproductions of a few of his paintings.
I like the author's approach, the way he comments on the special characteristics of the painters' personalities, and how these characteristics probably influenced their art. The author also puts the painters and their work, in the context of other historical events that happened in the artists region at the same period.
Of course, I don't always agree with everything in this book. This doesn't mean that the book is not good. We don't have to agree with everyone and everything.
Jacob van Ruisdael is my favorite painter from all the history of Art. I find the chapter dedicated to him very nice. But I do not agree with the assumption that Van Ruisdael was most probably a homosexual. The facts that he never married, or that he travelled with Nicolaes Berchem and both sketched and painted views of the Bentheim Castle, don't necessarily show that he was a gay. Neither the fact that he painted naked men bathing in a couple of his landscapes shows that he most probably was homosexual. Other painters of the period also did this, like Willem van de Velde, in a well known painting in the National Gallery of London.
But as I said, we don't have to agree with everyone and everything. We experience art according to our inner emotions. In my opinion, van Ruisdael was a lonely, introvert person, maybe he had depression. Sometimes you can feel his inner emotions in his beautiful but a little melancolic landscapes. Maybe he was not good looking, maybe he had a body deform or something. Maybe that made him dissapointed with people, and sought peace of mind in the countryside. Or maybe he was just a lonely person who loved nature and painted it with such grandeur and brooding atmosphere.
One of the most touching parts of the book is a small reference to Spinoza, in the last page of the afterword. The author wonders what would have happened if he had not left America to live in Holland. But as Spinoza had said, "there is no what if", there is only "what is"...
If you like Dutch 17th century painting, I recommend this book. It is unique because the author tries to put himself in the soul of the painters, and in the time they lived, and tries to understand what's behind these paintings.
But beware, this book is not for someone who wants an introduction to Dutch painting, or a comprehensive overview of the painters of the era. If you are looking for such books, this is not one of them. This is a book for someone who already knows some basic things about this period in art history, and would like to read an interesting perspective of someone who also loves Dutch 17th century painting.
I am also waiting to receive a similar book (Thunderclap by Laura Cumming). I was wondering if there is some connection between these two books, since both were published in 2023, and both are part memoir and part 17th century Dutch art. The Carel Fabritius chapter in Moser's book has even the same title, thunderclap. But I guess these are just coincidences.
This book by B. Moser is a bit different from other art books. Here, the writer is not an art historian. He is a writer who moved to the Netherlands many years ago, to work and live with his partner there. He wanted to familiarize himself with the Dutch culture, so he started visiting the Dutch Museums and galleries. And he ended up loving this unique art of the Dutch 17th century Masters.
Mr. Moser tries to see the works of art from a more personal point of view. He tries to get in the painter's soul each time. This is something refreshing, because other art books are somewhat austere. But Art is about our souls, about our emotions.
I particularly liked some chapters in this book. There are also some interesting historical information about that period, like, for example, in the chapter about the painter Albert Eckhout, where we can find information about Dutch Colonization and see paintings which we usually don't find in other books.
We can also learn many things about well known painters of the period, like Gerard Ter Borch, Pieter Saenredam, Jacob van Ruisdael, Meindert Hobbema, Rachel Ruysch and others. I loved the inclusion of the still life painter Adriaen Coorte. There are some nice reproductions of a few of his paintings.
I like the author's approach, the way he comments on the special characteristics of the painters' personalities, and how these characteristics probably influenced their art. The author also puts the painters and their work, in the context of other historical events that happened in the artists region at the same period.
Of course, I don't always agree with everything in this book. This doesn't mean that the book is not good. We don't have to agree with everyone and everything.
Jacob van Ruisdael is my favorite painter from all the history of Art. I find the chapter dedicated to him very nice. But I do not agree with the assumption that Van Ruisdael was most probably a homosexual. The facts that he never married, or that he travelled with Nicolaes Berchem and both sketched and painted views of the Bentheim Castle, don't necessarily show that he was a gay. Neither the fact that he painted naked men bathing in a couple of his landscapes shows that he most probably was homosexual. Other painters of the period also did this, like Willem van de Velde, in a well known painting in the National Gallery of London.
But as I said, we don't have to agree with everyone and everything. We experience art according to our inner emotions. In my opinion, van Ruisdael was a lonely, introvert person, maybe he had depression. Sometimes you can feel his inner emotions in his beautiful but a little melancolic landscapes. Maybe he was not good looking, maybe he had a body deform or something. Maybe that made him dissapointed with people, and sought peace of mind in the countryside. Or maybe he was just a lonely person who loved nature and painted it with such grandeur and brooding atmosphere.
One of the most touching parts of the book is a small reference to Spinoza, in the last page of the afterword. The author wonders what would have happened if he had not left America to live in Holland. But as Spinoza had said, "there is no what if", there is only "what is"...
If you like Dutch 17th century painting, I recommend this book. It is unique because the author tries to put himself in the soul of the painters, and in the time they lived, and tries to understand what's behind these paintings.
But beware, this book is not for someone who wants an introduction to Dutch painting, or a comprehensive overview of the painters of the era. If you are looking for such books, this is not one of them. This is a book for someone who already knows some basic things about this period in art history, and would like to read an interesting perspective of someone who also loves Dutch 17th century painting.
September 3, 2024
I got interested in this book after listening to a conversation between Tyler Cowen (Conversations with Tyler podcast) and the author Benjamin Moser. At some point, Moser stated something along these lines: “There is nothing more interesting than art history. And there is nothing more boring than art history writing.” His book’s writing indeed comes across as a successful attempt to tease out what’s interesting about the history of Golden Age Dutch painting, while avoiding the recitation of dry facts mixed with highfalutin prose. The three specific features of the book that I found memorable: (1) that the reputations of Dutch painters have waxed and waned over time due to what “art history accidents” (for example, according to the book a Ferdinand Bol was at one point considered the equal of Rembrandt); (2) how little is factually known about the lives of most of the painters (the phrase “Almost nothing is known about [insert painter’s name] life” recurs and again in the book); and (3), the contrast between what we know about the painters lives (often deeply depressing stories about poverty and illness) and their paintings (often cheerful and humane). After reading this book, I believe most people will look at the paintings in the Dutch gallery section of museums with different eyes.
March 23, 2025
We read this before our trip to Amsterdam. The book is made up of short chapters, each focused on a Dutch painter, most of whom I was unfamiliar with. So Moser has the challenge of sustaining the reader's interest all while only including photos of typically fewer than four paintings by each artist. I think he rose to that by keeping each chapter fairly short and seamlessly making each about a different facet of art -- the low prestige of still-lifes and animal paintings, our desperation to attach meanings to small details, whether an artist's lesser works should dilute our respect for him, etc. So each chapter becomes much more than just the biography and overview of the artist and the book altogether ends up being a great and fairly accessible and well-written introduction to art history and criticism. Until the afterword (which rather abruptly becomes entirely about the author's relationship with the US after years abroad) the book largely stays away from the author's own personal journey as a writer who moved to the Netherlands for love, even though we can imagine these old masters' lives must have inspired some reflections on his own creative career. So I did occasionally wonder about that, but that's hardly a shortcoming. All told, this was a perfect accompaniment to our visit to the great Rijksmuseum and deepened my appreciation of Dutch art.
December 19, 2023
have to admit that, Rembrandt and Vermeer aside, I could be dismissive of Dutch art as an endless procession of dour looking board members and dead animals. A trip that included visits to the Mauritshuis and Rijksmuseum opened my eyes to many beautiful pieces so I was interested in learning more about these artists. I’m so glad I did, because this turned out to be one of my favorite books of the year.
Although little is known about many of these artists, Moser does an excellent job setting the scene using historical facts and snippets from arcane reviewers and biographers (I was delighted by a digression into Avercamp biographer, Clara J. Welcker). They are also many glorious full color reproductions included.
Moser spent most of his life as an American expat in the Netherlands and his interest in Dutch art was a way for him to become immersed in his new country. This period also coincides with his finding his own artistic voice as a writer. As he writes about each artist there is a parallel dialogue about the big questions: what makes art, art? Beyond that even, what makes us who we are.
I lived for an extended period as an expat and became enchanted with the art of my host country as a way to help understand my adopted home so I also felt a strong resonance with his thoughts on that subject.
So this book worked for me on many levels. Highly recommended.
Although little is known about many of these artists, Moser does an excellent job setting the scene using historical facts and snippets from arcane reviewers and biographers (I was delighted by a digression into Avercamp biographer, Clara J. Welcker). They are also many glorious full color reproductions included.
Moser spent most of his life as an American expat in the Netherlands and his interest in Dutch art was a way for him to become immersed in his new country. This period also coincides with his finding his own artistic voice as a writer. As he writes about each artist there is a parallel dialogue about the big questions: what makes art, art? Beyond that even, what makes us who we are.
I lived for an extended period as an expat and became enchanted with the art of my host country as a way to help understand my adopted home so I also felt a strong resonance with his thoughts on that subject.
So this book worked for me on many levels. Highly recommended.
February 26, 2024
I'm probably biased since this is the exact subject I got one of my degrees in, but I enjoyed this book (lol, surprise).
It reads more as a conversation with someone about their personal opinions on the most recognizable Dutch masters than a purely informative collection, and because of that the tone can vary. Some chapters seemed a bit disjointed from the rest, almost more of an after-thought than a true commentary on the artist. You can really tell which artists the author favors.
Despite all that, I still appreciated the attention given to the subject matter. The author packs a lot of info into pretty short, digestible chapters. Plenty of images accompany the writing, although I did find it a bit odd that none of the images have labeled captions, just personal anecdotes and quips.
Bonus points that he covered Jan Steen, one of my faves.
A good introductory overview to the topic, just don't expect a lot of depth.
It reads more as a conversation with someone about their personal opinions on the most recognizable Dutch masters than a purely informative collection, and because of that the tone can vary. Some chapters seemed a bit disjointed from the rest, almost more of an after-thought than a true commentary on the artist. You can really tell which artists the author favors.
Despite all that, I still appreciated the attention given to the subject matter. The author packs a lot of info into pretty short, digestible chapters. Plenty of images accompany the writing, although I did find it a bit odd that none of the images have labeled captions, just personal anecdotes and quips.
Bonus points that he covered Jan Steen, one of my faves.
A good introductory overview to the topic, just don't expect a lot of depth.
August 31, 2025
I’ve spent my fair share of Sundays in the Rijksmuseum. For me too, the paintings of the Golden Age have been my gateway into discovering Dutch history and they’ve helped me appreciate more about the country I made my home some 8 years ago. The Upside-Down World was an easy choice of book to read.
Moser is a great guide, unpretentious and with a passion for Dutch art. We get to know a lot about these artists through his eyes; it’s refreshing to hear the view of someone else who adopted this place as home, not everything in the Netherlands is a given. Sometimes the source information is scarce, but he does a good job of puzzling together the biographies and cultural history.
I’ve thought a lot about this book since opening it. Even the chapters of the artists I know well offered something new. If nothing else, it’s made me stop a little longer in front of the Ruisdaels and Metsus I used to breeze past.
Moser is a great guide, unpretentious and with a passion for Dutch art. We get to know a lot about these artists through his eyes; it’s refreshing to hear the view of someone else who adopted this place as home, not everything in the Netherlands is a given. Sometimes the source information is scarce, but he does a good job of puzzling together the biographies and cultural history.
I’ve thought a lot about this book since opening it. Even the chapters of the artists I know well offered something new. If nothing else, it’s made me stop a little longer in front of the Ruisdaels and Metsus I used to breeze past.
June 21, 2024
4.5 stars. Such an enjoyable, beautifully crafted book. Part memoir, part art history written in a very accessible style. I listened to the audiobook and then came back to reread sections of it as well as gaze at the artwork (gorgeous, glossy prints) mentioned by the author. It was especially enjoyable for me as it brought back memories from a trip to some of the towns, museums and churches mentioned in the book. I really appreciated the author’s down to earth approach and tendency to poke fun at some pompous art critics’ opinions while still sharing his thoughts on various artists and works. His afterword was beautifully written, such a lovely way to finish.
Minus 1/2 star for uneven narration… the narrator’s voice would drop in pitch unexpectedly and sound somewhat muffled for a while, even in the middle of sentences… it was jarring and strange!)
Minus 1/2 star for uneven narration… the narrator’s voice would drop in pitch unexpectedly and sound somewhat muffled for a while, even in the middle of sentences… it was jarring and strange!)
Displaying 1 - 30 of 77 reviews