Martijn van Wenen, Wanroiij Gallery Amsterdam, Nov 15, 2015 - March 31, 2016 text by Martin C. Herbst
Showing in Amsterdam´s Wanrooij Gallery, situated right next to the famous Rijksmuseum with all its masterpieces, is like coming home to old friends.
Like many young painters – and especially those with a keen interest in portrait painting – I literally grew up with my heroes Rembrandt and Vermeer. Austria's most important museum for Old Masters, the Kunsthistorisches Museum in Vienna, shows two brilliant self-portraits by Rembrandt and Vermeer's “The Art of Painting” as well as a large number of excellent works by Rubens and van Dyck.
At the age of 17 I had my first chance to come to Amsterdam and visit the Rijksmuseum. By that time, however, I had already been studying the beloved Dutch and Flemish Masters in depth for almost four years.
Like many young painters – and especially those with a keen interest in portrait painting – I literally grew up with my heroes Rembrandt and Vermeer. Austria's most important museum for Old Masters, the Kunsthistorisches Museum in Vienna, shows two brilliant self-portraits by Rembrandt and Vermeer's “The Art of Painting” as well as a large number of excellent works by Rubens and van Dyck.
At the age of 17 I had my first chance to come to Amsterdam and visit the Rijksmuseum. By that time, however, I had already been studying the beloved Dutch and Flemish Masters in depth for almost four years.
Rijksmuseum Amsterdam (left),Wanrooij Gallery (right)
Not only the Dutch title of my show “Martijn van Wenen” (“Martin from Vienna”) is an homage to Rembrandt van Rijn or Vermeer van Delft and to Netherlandish painting in general: the whole collection of works I am showing in Amsterdam is likewise a tribute.
“Martijn van Wenen” demonstrates my close ties to the rich history of Dutch and Flemish painting, and also how I put these into practice. Some of the works are inspired directly by a specific historic painting. Here it is easy for everyone to see and understand the reference at once, and to enjoy the reinterpretation. And yet the majority of the works in this show represent more an elaborate re-evaluation of art historical themes and theories. Thus it is crucial to provide at least a sketchy explanation of the connections and ideas behind them.
There is no question: my paintings can be enjoyed without any intellectual aspiration. Still, I continue in the spirit of my beloved Dutch masters, who esteemed painting as both a sensual and an intellectual discipline.
“Martijn van Wenen” demonstrates my close ties to the rich history of Dutch and Flemish painting, and also how I put these into practice. Some of the works are inspired directly by a specific historic painting. Here it is easy for everyone to see and understand the reference at once, and to enjoy the reinterpretation. And yet the majority of the works in this show represent more an elaborate re-evaluation of art historical themes and theories. Thus it is crucial to provide at least a sketchy explanation of the connections and ideas behind them.
There is no question: my paintings can be enjoyed without any intellectual aspiration. Still, I continue in the spirit of my beloved Dutch masters, who esteemed painting as both a sensual and an intellectual discipline.
It can come as no surprise that my deep interest in the human face made me an admirer of Rembrandt's portraits. His ability to combine realism with humanity and deep feeling is unparalleled.
Rembrandt´s self-portraits ( see my study above right) demonstrate with particular clarity that the beauty and touching fascination of a portrait must not be connected to the physical attractiveness of the sitter. To put it bluntly, one might say that his self-portraits fascinate despite his authentic and unaffected description of his own unattractive features. Especially the realization of the face, how oil paint is transformed into flesh and light, and how our feelings are touched makes these works into a timeless demonstration of the conditio humana.
The lesson I learned from Rembrandt was very relieving. My artistic career has been shaped by my lifelong interest in the human face, and by the question of how to transform a portrait of a certain individual into a transpersonal and touching artwork.
Rembrandt´s self-portraits ( see my study above right) demonstrate with particular clarity that the beauty and touching fascination of a portrait must not be connected to the physical attractiveness of the sitter. To put it bluntly, one might say that his self-portraits fascinate despite his authentic and unaffected description of his own unattractive features. Especially the realization of the face, how oil paint is transformed into flesh and light, and how our feelings are touched makes these works into a timeless demonstration of the conditio humana.
The lesson I learned from Rembrandt was very relieving. My artistic career has been shaped by my lifelong interest in the human face, and by the question of how to transform a portrait of a certain individual into a transpersonal and touching artwork.
It may come as a surprise that I connect my work Perseus 9 with the lessons I learned from Rembrandt.
The work shows a male face with curly hair, and it is painted on a curved convex dish with coloured LED light behind, which can be programmed in different colours. The features of the young man are not attractive in terms of mere beauty. His mouth is luscious, his nose sharp, his eyes ice-cold.
The face of this young man has been the starting point for nearly 20 of my works. Starting point is the right word in this regard, and this is true of nearly all my “portraits”. They are not portraits in the sense of the word, and they were never intended to be. And yet in this case I felt urged to baptise this young man. I named him after Perseus, a hero of Greek mythology. He defeated Medusa, a monster with hideous snakes instead of hair and a stare that turned onlookers to stone. Perseus safely approached the sleeping Medusa by viewing her reflection in his mirror-polished shield (so that her death-bringing glare would not work) and cut off her head.
My painting shows the reflection of Perseus' face in the mirror-shield and not Medusa's. This fundamental shift derives from my belief that every deed comes back to you; murderer and victim form an inseparable unity. The round convex shape of the painting recalls Perseus' shield, the curls of hair little snakes, and the ice-cold blue eyes the dangerous glare of Medusa.
To return to the connection to Rembrandt: As I said before, the face of Perseus itself is not beautiful. The main reason why the face seems worth looking at is its intensive expression and not its beauty. Perseus is looking directly at and mesmerising the betrayer, and he may not be sure if he should be happy about it or not. Yet coolly and almost arrogantly he connects immediately with the observer. His features must not be beautiful to be attractive and moving.
The work shows a male face with curly hair, and it is painted on a curved convex dish with coloured LED light behind, which can be programmed in different colours. The features of the young man are not attractive in terms of mere beauty. His mouth is luscious, his nose sharp, his eyes ice-cold.
The face of this young man has been the starting point for nearly 20 of my works. Starting point is the right word in this regard, and this is true of nearly all my “portraits”. They are not portraits in the sense of the word, and they were never intended to be. And yet in this case I felt urged to baptise this young man. I named him after Perseus, a hero of Greek mythology. He defeated Medusa, a monster with hideous snakes instead of hair and a stare that turned onlookers to stone. Perseus safely approached the sleeping Medusa by viewing her reflection in his mirror-polished shield (so that her death-bringing glare would not work) and cut off her head.
My painting shows the reflection of Perseus' face in the mirror-shield and not Medusa's. This fundamental shift derives from my belief that every deed comes back to you; murderer and victim form an inseparable unity. The round convex shape of the painting recalls Perseus' shield, the curls of hair little snakes, and the ice-cold blue eyes the dangerous glare of Medusa.
To return to the connection to Rembrandt: As I said before, the face of Perseus itself is not beautiful. The main reason why the face seems worth looking at is its intensive expression and not its beauty. Perseus is looking directly at and mesmerising the betrayer, and he may not be sure if he should be happy about it or not. Yet coolly and almost arrogantly he connects immediately with the observer. His features must not be beautiful to be attractive and moving.
Using light to shape a portrait is another lesson I learned from Rembrandt. I do not mean the fact that the face is lit from one side, with one half in the light and the other in the dark, as is the case in most of Rembrandt's portraits and in Perseus 7 as well. It is the idea that light can be used in another way than illumination. In Rembrandt's painting light is transformed into something beyond the physical phenomenon. It distinguishes the important from the unimportant. More, it almost creates form out of nothing, rather than merely shaping and defining it.
The effect of the LED light on the back of Perseus 7 cannot be compared directly, but it has a similar intention. It adds something unreal to the painting, something impalpable and almost spiritual. From the back the LED pours colour very subtly over the whole painting. It changes not only the hues of the paint, but the impression and expression of the whole face. The power of the coloured light is evident as soon as the tone of the LED device is changed, and another shade of colour bathes the painting in a surreal light.
The effect of the LED light on the back of Perseus 7 cannot be compared directly, but it has a similar intention. It adds something unreal to the painting, something impalpable and almost spiritual. From the back the LED pours colour very subtly over the whole painting. It changes not only the hues of the paint, but the impression and expression of the whole face. The power of the coloured light is evident as soon as the tone of the LED device is changed, and another shade of colour bathes the painting in a surreal light.
Peter Paul Rubens painted his eldest daughter Clara Serena, most likely at the age of 5 years (see my study above right). Tragically she fell ill in 1623 and died as a 12-year-old.
The disarming directness of this touching masterpiece shows the intimacy between Rubens and his daughter, giving rise to the assumption that this small painting was not intended for sale but for private use.
Rubens focuses on the expression of the face, while the garment is executed in a sketchy and abbreviated manner. The tone of the background is grey-green, emphasising the warm hues of the flesh tones and Clara's red cheeks. Rubens presents us Clara Serena as a vital and curious child with high spirits.
It was pure joy to make a study after this famous painting. I learned first and foremost that Rubens emphasises areas which are illuminated by applying white colour lavishly and using fairly rough brushstrokes while following and shaping the form he sometimes simplifies. Having a highly detailed reproduction at hand, I learned that his painting technique is apparently an elaborate further development of the 15th- and 16thcentury method of using black and white underpainting to shape the figure before layers of hue are even applied.
In my study after this masterpiece I tried to follow Rubens' painting technique (which I had never tried before), but I could not resist softening the overall impression to create a smoother and more tender version.
The disarming directness of this touching masterpiece shows the intimacy between Rubens and his daughter, giving rise to the assumption that this small painting was not intended for sale but for private use.
Rubens focuses on the expression of the face, while the garment is executed in a sketchy and abbreviated manner. The tone of the background is grey-green, emphasising the warm hues of the flesh tones and Clara's red cheeks. Rubens presents us Clara Serena as a vital and curious child with high spirits.
It was pure joy to make a study after this famous painting. I learned first and foremost that Rubens emphasises areas which are illuminated by applying white colour lavishly and using fairly rough brushstrokes while following and shaping the form he sometimes simplifies. Having a highly detailed reproduction at hand, I learned that his painting technique is apparently an elaborate further development of the 15th- and 16thcentury method of using black and white underpainting to shape the figure before layers of hue are even applied.
In my study after this masterpiece I tried to follow Rubens' painting technique (which I had never tried before), but I could not resist softening the overall impression to create a smoother and more tender version.
At the age of nearly five my daughter decided one day to take her best dress out of the wardrobe and put on some makeup. She was in the mood to make a star appearance in the kindergarten. She looked so cute and ladylike that I decided to take some photos when she returned. Nearly all of the many portrait paintings I have done of her since that day have been based on one of these snapshots. So is the painting shown in the Wanrooij Gallery.
To a certain extent it still surprises me that these portraits were such a big success right from the start. The very first painting of the series soon became part of the prominent Eileen Kaminsky Family Foundation collection in New York. It was by no means self-evident that so many collectors would want to look at a straightforward, unidealised portrait of a particular young girl on a daily basis – even if she has cute features.
One explanation may be that these paintings can be seen as embodying spirited youth and tender blossoming femininity, and not simply as portraits of the painter's daughter. Moreover I think that my close relationship to the subject, combined with my insight into her personality, contributes to a – to use the expression again – disarming and refreshing directness, which makes those paintings appealing.
In the Baroque era artists started to make portraits of their children for private use. Not only Rubens did it, but also Rembrandt painted his son Titus, just to name his most prominent contemporary. Others followed over the centuries; to cite a more recent example, Picasso used his children frequently as models. And yet I know of no artist who has painted as many different versions of the same child portrait as I have over the years. The series is an exploration of the countless possibilities residing in a single image and face.
To a certain extent it still surprises me that these portraits were such a big success right from the start. The very first painting of the series soon became part of the prominent Eileen Kaminsky Family Foundation collection in New York. It was by no means self-evident that so many collectors would want to look at a straightforward, unidealised portrait of a particular young girl on a daily basis – even if she has cute features.
One explanation may be that these paintings can be seen as embodying spirited youth and tender blossoming femininity, and not simply as portraits of the painter's daughter. Moreover I think that my close relationship to the subject, combined with my insight into her personality, contributes to a – to use the expression again – disarming and refreshing directness, which makes those paintings appealing.
In the Baroque era artists started to make portraits of their children for private use. Not only Rubens did it, but also Rembrandt painted his son Titus, just to name his most prominent contemporary. Others followed over the centuries; to cite a more recent example, Picasso used his children frequently as models. And yet I know of no artist who has painted as many different versions of the same child portrait as I have over the years. The series is an exploration of the countless possibilities residing in a single image and face.
In 1641 Johannes Cornelisz Verspronck painted a young girl in a blue dress holding an ostrich feather fan. His Portrait of a Girl Dressed in Blue is one of the best-known child portraits of the 17th century, and it is on view in the Rijksmuseum “hall of fame” in Amsterdam. The painting's popularity in the Netherlands was enhanced by a 25-guilder bank note showing the girl's face, which circulated in a quantity of approximately 39 million in the years 1945–1953.
We know nothing about her identity or her family, but her refined clothing, the doubled pearl necklace and the ostrich feather demonstrate a wealthy background. The child is portrayed in the custom of the day as a small adult lady.
It is a delicate painting worked out in great detail, demonstrating Verspronck's refined style, with it barely visible brushstrokes.
In my study shown above right, I did not try to emulate Verspronck's painting technique and the muted colourfulness based on a soft brownish tone. I enhanced and changed the blue tone of the dress and the background hue, and made the girl's face sweeter. My primary aim was to express the tenderness of the child in combination with a strong showing by my own means.
We know nothing about her identity or her family, but her refined clothing, the doubled pearl necklace and the ostrich feather demonstrate a wealthy background. The child is portrayed in the custom of the day as a small adult lady.
It is a delicate painting worked out in great detail, demonstrating Verspronck's refined style, with it barely visible brushstrokes.
In my study shown above right, I did not try to emulate Verspronck's painting technique and the muted colourfulness based on a soft brownish tone. I enhanced and changed the blue tone of the dress and the background hue, and made the girl's face sweeter. My primary aim was to express the tenderness of the child in combination with a strong showing by my own means.
Lena Dressed in Blue translates Verspronck's painting into the present, and into my personal world.
Since it is always a deep pleasure to paint a portrait of my daughter as a young girl (I have done so nearly 50 times in the past years), I decided to bid farewell to the 370-year-old Dutch girl. Nevertheless I copied the wonderful old-fashioned and rich clothing. The pose was changed slightly to fit the round shape and my wish to give the figure an impressive Baroque staging: Lena should walk into a round spotlight taking a posh step forward.
Since the work is painted on a concave mirror dish, no photo can give an impression of how the work changes when the beholder passes by. The impression of the whole work is constantly changing as a result of permanently shifting distorted reflections of the space surrounding the dish. More, the painted figure seems to be animated as well, perhaps because our eye and brain cannot process the perception of an image deriving from a solid object in which parts change dynamically and others remain stable.
The concave mirror background produces spectacular grotesque reflections. The awe it produces resonates with the Baroque concept of the world as theatre and humankind as actors in a grand play.
Since it is always a deep pleasure to paint a portrait of my daughter as a young girl (I have done so nearly 50 times in the past years), I decided to bid farewell to the 370-year-old Dutch girl. Nevertheless I copied the wonderful old-fashioned and rich clothing. The pose was changed slightly to fit the round shape and my wish to give the figure an impressive Baroque staging: Lena should walk into a round spotlight taking a posh step forward.
Since the work is painted on a concave mirror dish, no photo can give an impression of how the work changes when the beholder passes by. The impression of the whole work is constantly changing as a result of permanently shifting distorted reflections of the space surrounding the dish. More, the painted figure seems to be animated as well, perhaps because our eye and brain cannot process the perception of an image deriving from a solid object in which parts change dynamically and others remain stable.
The concave mirror background produces spectacular grotesque reflections. The awe it produces resonates with the Baroque concept of the world as theatre and humankind as actors in a grand play.
Still life with flowers was a popular genre in 17th century Dutch painting among artists and collectors. At their time they may have been regarded as far less prestigious in the hierarchy of genres as the leading category history painting, but were cheaper and could be sold much more easily.
Specialists painted individual flowers with intense realism and great knowledge. Nevertheless often painters included blooms from very different seasons in the same composition and many paintings show bouquets of flowers in vases that were in fact not common in houses at the time.
Still lifes with flowers had – as virtually all still lifes in these days - a moralistic message concerning the brevity of life as flowers wilt and their blossoming period is short.
My study after The overturned Bouque by Abraham Mignon (shown above right) concentrates on one of the blossoms and is copy of a detail of this very decorative painting of the Rijksmuseum collection. In the original multipartite painting Mignon tells a little story and includes a cat playing with a mouse trap while overturning the vase with tulips, carnations and other flowers by accident.
It was easy to isolate this special flower, because the artist took great care to put every blossom into the right light before a dark background and avoided in most cases any overlapping.
Focusing on one of the tulips I traced Mignon´s great skill of showing the characteristics of this ´precious and rare flower. Especially notable is his arrangement of the multi-coloured petals, they form a spacious and yet decorative pattern. To pick and choose the tulip of Mignon´s bouquet is my homage to its important role in 17th century tulip mania and today´s Dutch flower trade.
Specialists painted individual flowers with intense realism and great knowledge. Nevertheless often painters included blooms from very different seasons in the same composition and many paintings show bouquets of flowers in vases that were in fact not common in houses at the time.
Still lifes with flowers had – as virtually all still lifes in these days - a moralistic message concerning the brevity of life as flowers wilt and their blossoming period is short.
My study after The overturned Bouque by Abraham Mignon (shown above right) concentrates on one of the blossoms and is copy of a detail of this very decorative painting of the Rijksmuseum collection. In the original multipartite painting Mignon tells a little story and includes a cat playing with a mouse trap while overturning the vase with tulips, carnations and other flowers by accident.
It was easy to isolate this special flower, because the artist took great care to put every blossom into the right light before a dark background and avoided in most cases any overlapping.
Focusing on one of the tulips I traced Mignon´s great skill of showing the characteristics of this ´precious and rare flower. Especially notable is his arrangement of the multi-coloured petals, they form a spacious and yet decorative pattern. To pick and choose the tulip of Mignon´s bouquet is my homage to its important role in 17th century tulip mania and today´s Dutch flower trade.
Garden of Delight 9 is the portrait of a rare South American orchid. Originally of tender red-orange colour and very small in size, the flower makes a grand entrance in the staging of my large painting. Nearly 100 times larger than life, she unfolds her petal and nestles gently into the curve of the large mirrored panel.
The curved background's mirrored surface produces permanently shifting distorted reflections of the beholder and the space around the painting. The effects are similar to those of the mirrored dish in Lena Dressed in Blue and have the same consequences: the flower seems animated, because our eye and brain cannot process the perception of an image deriving from a solid object in which parts change dynamically and others remain stable.
Unlike the Dutch master Mignon, I do not show a decorative grouping of more or less isolated flowers in a vase. The Garden of Delights series incorporates a variety of flowers, but always a single blossom, casting each of them as a “star” through impressive staging. All these paintings are portraits of individual flowers, and yet they emphasise the qualities of the given species as a whole. It seems that even in my flower paintings I cannot escape the main theme of my work: portrait painting as a search for universal validity that is somehow larger than life.
The curved background's mirrored surface produces permanently shifting distorted reflections of the beholder and the space around the painting. The effects are similar to those of the mirrored dish in Lena Dressed in Blue and have the same consequences: the flower seems animated, because our eye and brain cannot process the perception of an image deriving from a solid object in which parts change dynamically and others remain stable.
Unlike the Dutch master Mignon, I do not show a decorative grouping of more or less isolated flowers in a vase. The Garden of Delights series incorporates a variety of flowers, but always a single blossom, casting each of them as a “star” through impressive staging. All these paintings are portraits of individual flowers, and yet they emphasise the qualities of the given species as a whole. It seems that even in my flower paintings I cannot escape the main theme of my work: portrait painting as a search for universal validity that is somehow larger than life.
Jan Vermeer was a Dutch genre painter, mostly of interior scenes. Only 34 paintings are universally attributed to him today, and of these only three are tronies. The 17th-century Dutch word tronie describes a 'head' that was not meant to be a portrait.
Vermeer's most famous tronie – and one of his best-known works – is the Girl with the Pearl Earring. I made two studies after this brilliant work (left), in which I made the face a bit broader and played with an inverted version and the colour of the mouth. It was wonderful to see that in both versions her look over the shoulder is similarly disarming and that the blue mouth conveyed an indescribable expression.
The painting shows a European girl wearing an oriental turban and a giant earring. Although her pose and look have all the qualities of a portrait, her facial features are idealised and show a certain kind of de-individualization, which gives her a universal appeal.
Such a “generalised portrait” seems to be the true opposite of Rembrandt's self-portraits. Both Rembrandt and Vermeer wanted to deliver a touching, captivating and somehow beautiful portrait, but their ideas concerning how to achieve this effect seem to be very different.
To put it simply, Vermeer takes a girl and makes a classical beauty out of her by cleaning and idealising her features. Rembrandt captures the features of his face, which are generally not considered to be beautiful in terms of physical attractiveness, without any attempt to make them look more appealing. Nevertheless, the unparalleled depth of expression and his wonderful “staging” of the figure in somehow magical light makes the painting as a whole so overbearingly beautiful that we forget to look at physical shortcomings.
Vermeer's most famous tronie – and one of his best-known works – is the Girl with the Pearl Earring. I made two studies after this brilliant work (left), in which I made the face a bit broader and played with an inverted version and the colour of the mouth. It was wonderful to see that in both versions her look over the shoulder is similarly disarming and that the blue mouth conveyed an indescribable expression.
The painting shows a European girl wearing an oriental turban and a giant earring. Although her pose and look have all the qualities of a portrait, her facial features are idealised and show a certain kind of de-individualization, which gives her a universal appeal.
Such a “generalised portrait” seems to be the true opposite of Rembrandt's self-portraits. Both Rembrandt and Vermeer wanted to deliver a touching, captivating and somehow beautiful portrait, but their ideas concerning how to achieve this effect seem to be very different.
To put it simply, Vermeer takes a girl and makes a classical beauty out of her by cleaning and idealising her features. Rembrandt captures the features of his face, which are generally not considered to be beautiful in terms of physical attractiveness, without any attempt to make them look more appealing. Nevertheless, the unparalleled depth of expression and his wonderful “staging” of the figure in somehow magical light makes the painting as a whole so overbearingly beautiful that we forget to look at physical shortcomings.
Bella is the general description a beautiful girl in Italy. Titian had already painted idealised figures, like the Girl in the Fur, today housed in Vienna's Kunsthistorisches Museum. With his Girl with a Pearl Earring Vermeer was following a tradition dating back to the Renaissance, and the era's great interest in capturing transpersonal beauty in art.
It makes no difference whether one puts my Bella series in line with Renaissance tradition or with the Dutch tronies, the intention is the same: to celebrate beauty itself by idealising and generalising the features of a beautiful person to achieve universal appeal.
Like my Perseus paintings, the Bella series started with an image found in the media. Nevertheless, I am not quite sure whether the nameless beauty would recognise herself, if she were to come across her idealised portraits.
What struck me first was her pose, the provocative gaze over the shoulder, combined with a somehow strange look in her eyes (not originally green, by the way). I play with the expression of her eyes: in Bella 9 the girl seems to look past her betrayer, in Bella 10 through him. I love to paint the same image over and over, exploring different ways of representation and expression in order to celebrate the countless possibilities which lie waiting to be discovered in one and the same image. And yet each painting of a series is a work that stands alone and speaks for itself, even if – at least for me – the great charm of a series lies in the chance to see how many faces can be discovered in one and the same face and image.
Bella 10 is the most recent image of this series, and it is the only one so far in which the face is reversed in the painting. Seeing the effect of my reversed study of the Vermeer painting, I was eager to try the same with Bella. I have the impression that it makes a big difference if Bella is looking over her left or right shoulder. In Bella 10 the pose seems more open to me, nearly aggressive, whereas Bella 9 appears to be more calm, classical and maybe more natural.
In the Bella series the paintings are covered with a layer of matted epoxy resin. This creates not only a very appealing and perfectly smooth surface, but blurs the hues to a certain extent, giving each painting a wonderful lustre. In developing this method I was inspired by the technical perfection achieved by some painters of the Renaissance and Baroque period. The surface is almost as smooth as a mirror, and the paint seems more like enamel than oil.
My study after Vermeer's Girl Reading a Letter at an Open Window (ca. 1657) shows a detail of this strikingly intimate and tranquil interior scene of everyday life. A blonde young Dutchwoman stands at an open window reading a letter, which first became a highly fashionable form of communication in the Netherlands in the mid-17th century. It is most probably a love letter. X-rays of the canvas have shown that Vermeer initially included a painting in the painting that showed a cupid, the god of erotic love. He later repainted this section as a drapery.
What makes this painting especially appealing is the wonderful reflection of the face in the leaded glass window. The illusion is very convincing, with the image displaying interesting distortions as a result of the uneven glass. Not only does Vermeer achieve a brilliant painterly coup through his convincing illusionism: this feature enhances wonderfully the quietness and intimacy of the scene while also adding a whiff of mystery.
What makes this painting especially appealing is the wonderful reflection of the face in the leaded glass window. The illusion is very convincing, with the image displaying interesting distortions as a result of the uneven glass. Not only does Vermeer achieve a brilliant painterly coup through his convincing illusionism: this feature enhances wonderfully the quietness and intimacy of the scene while also adding a whiff of mystery.
The series hidden treasure explores the splendour and mystery of immaterial reflection. As a result of the complex folds in the mirrored aluminium, most of the actual painting is only seen in its reflection. More, the painting seems to take life and even become animated, because the part of the mirror producing the reflection is uneven. As soon as the beholder begins to explore its secrets by moving from side to side, the work unfolds a surprising array of subtly shifting reflections of the painted image.
In these reflected paintings I seem to have found a new way of approaching the magic and charm of Vermeer’s painted reflection. At the same time I make a unique contribution to the centuries-old art-historical and philosophical theory of painting as a mirror of the world. In the hidden treasure series, painting and mirror are amalgamated, transforming tangible paint into an ephemeral and virtual manifestation.
In these reflected paintings I seem to have found a new way of approaching the magic and charm of Vermeer’s painted reflection. At the same time I make a unique contribution to the centuries-old art-historical and philosophical theory of painting as a mirror of the world. In the hidden treasure series, painting and mirror are amalgamated, transforming tangible paint into an ephemeral and virtual manifestation.
