No open-access location is known for this record yet.
No open-access location is known for this record yet.
Summary The bearing of Otho van Veen's Amorum Emblemata (1608) on Vermeer has been admitted to some extent. Curiously enough, the connection so far observed has been confined to pictures hanging on the wall in four Vermeer interiors. Here follows a more penetrating study of the van Veen emblems and their epigrams, and their applicability in regard to the imagery of Vermeer. For the sake of brevity, the discussion is limited here to ten of the painter's most distinguished works. I. Vermeer's three earliest genre pieces (about 1656–1659) reflect the répertoire of the Rederijker chambers, as these are known to us through the work of Jan Steen (cf. Figs. 1–3, 5–6). In Vermeer's “The Procuress”, the officer to the right wears a cock feather in his hat, exactly as does his counterpart, the fool, in a painting by Steen. Moreover, the commentator to the left wears a costume of markedly outdated cut. In the “Allegory of Painting” in Vienna, the painter wears such a Burgundian dress which, according to de Tolnay (7), serves as a reminder of bygone and happier times. Assuming that the costume in the Dresden picture carries the same meaning, it can well allude to van Veen's emblem pp. 128 f. “A girl asleep” in New York has been interpreted by Slive (12) as a warning against drunkenness and, by Millner Kahr (13), even more deplorably, as a personification of sloth. Proceeding from Steneberg's observation (14) that the painting on the wall does in fact reproduce van Veen's emblem Inconcussa fide (Fig. 4), I infinitely prefer a positive interpretation: the young woman is dreaming of true love (cf. the emblem pp. 54 f.). The shadow along the upper part of the wall and the veil partly covering the fruit and the bowls brings to mind van Veen's emblem pp. 112 f., which is a paraphrase of a clandestine lovers meeting in Ovid's Ars Amatoria II: 617–620: Conveniunt thalami furtis et ianua nostris, parsque sub iniecta veste pudenda latet: Et si non tenebras, ad quiddam nubis opacae Quaerimus, atque aliquid luce patente minus. That the girl at an open window, in Dresden (Fig. 5), is reading a love letter goes without saying. Cf. Amorum Emblemata pp. 6 f., 132 f. and in particular 74 f. The opened peach revealing its kernel can allude to the emblem pp. 70 f., as well as to the figurative meaning of the Dutch kern as something trustworthy and genuine. The curtain in the foreground adds to the sens morale of both painting and emblem in accordance with the saying De bedgordijn dient digt te zijn which emphasizes the importance of keeping a sweet secret, secret. II. In contradistinction to the letter‐reading ladies in Dresden and Amsterdam, the elegant lady in London (Fig. 7) turns her back to the window, and in consequence her face appears shaded. E. de Jongh has established the source for the cupid on the wall, which is van Veen's introductory emblem (Fig. 8), and he interprets the painting accordingly as a reminder of steadfast love (23). However, there is no tablet to tread upon, and Vermeer's cupid holds a card which lacks its number. Zonder tal is an old Dutch expression for innumerable, and we may therefore as well consider the emblem In tenebris sine te pp. 122 f., and its ultimate source in Ovid's Ars Amatoria III: 434 ff.: Quae vobis dicunt, dixerunt mille puellis: Errat et in nulla sede moratur Amor. No one familiar with van Veen's emblems would have failed to recognise the emblem Fig. 10 as a most fitting reference for Vermeer's “The Milkmaid” in Amsterdam (fig. 9). With her monumental forms she is the embodiment of the domestic tasks of the three cupids of the emblem, as well as of its epigram, were être repoussé equals the saying Hij krijgt den korf he gets the basket, i.e. is given the mitten. There is, too, the saying Hij heeft een blaauwtje geloopen which may explain the presence of the blue towel on the table. In their turn, the pieces of bread give quite a natural meaning to the basket which hangs high up on the wall as a reminder of the saying Iemand den broodkorf hoog hangen—to keep someone on a short rein. The basket thus counterbalances the foot‐warmer on the floor, that mignon‐des‐dames which so often recurs in Dutch painting as a symbol of wantonness (cf. Roemer Vissher's Sinne‐Poppen III, no. LVI). This framing device serves to emphasize the message of the painting which concerns steadfastness in matters of the heart. As to the beautiful Washington picture, “Lady holding a balance” (Fig. p. 8), too much emphasis has been placed on its vanitas elements (32–34). For one thing, the pair of scales is apparently empty. Instead of actually weighing pearls or gold, the lady just checks the vertical position of the needle. The diagonals of the picture surface intersect exacdy at the axis of the balance, which here becomes also a focus for its message: the balance as a symbol of consideration, temperance and related virtues. See the emblem Fig. 11 and its exposition in French, as well as the emblem pp. 194 f. Admittedly, there are objects of vanity lying on the table: pearl necklaces and necklace ribbons, gold coins and two jewel boxes, one of which is lined with a reddish fabric. But red is, significantly, also the colour of the dress the lady is wearing under her fur‐brimmed matinée jacket, and we perceive that she too in her body encloses a treasure. Van Veen's Amorum Emblemata opens with “Cupid's epistle to youth”, an avowal in verse of the omnipotence of love, which seems to have captivated Vermeer. Here Cupid prompts the young man to marry and beget children, through whom he will be reborn and thus gain eternal bliss. The coins on the table indicate that Vermeer made use of van Veen's metaphor médailles for images and the necklace ribbons even more literally reproduce the ribbon metaphor in the epistle. However secular, Cupid's message approaches the view of incarnation as a fulfilment of the will of the Creator. In Vermeer's painting too, the daily task approaches the realm of the religious. Instead of merely illustrating the vanity of a woman, the whole interior appears permeated by reflection sub specie aeternitatis (Spinoza). Therefore, too, the Last Judgement is apt to evoke a feeling of trust rather than one of awe and remorse (34). III. The two paintings in Berlin‐Dahlem and Braunschweig (Figs. 12, 13) have much in common. In both occur a stainedglass window with coat‐of‐arms and a female personification (Fig. 14). She has been termed Temperantia by R. Klessmann, who holds her attribute to be a bridle (39). Swillens and de Mirimonde, on the other hand, here saw snakes, (40) which seems to be correct, since Vermeer's source was apparently Aldergrever's engraving “Invidia” of 1552 (Fig. 15). The painting can therefore be connected with van Veen's emblems Figs. 16 (Il faut se feindre) and 17. Most witty is the notion of Invidia on a window‐pane, as if the painter were saying: the clearer the daylight, the more apparent becomes the presence of envy, not to say jealousy. This malady of love makes itself even more strongly felt in the Braunschweig interior, where there are three protagonists. The situations is reminiscent of that in emblem Fig. 18, where there is a sullen third cupid in the background. It also recalls some of van Veen's many warnings against the seductiveness of love (pp. 46 f., 80 f., 86 f.), for too great a reluctance (pp. 90, 98 f.), and the reminder that Amor favours the more daring lover (pp. 106 f.). Because of the presence of Baburen's brothel scene on the wall. “The Concert” in Boston (Fig. 19) has been interpreted mostly along vanitas lines. There is no doubt, that the moment we bring in van Veen, the message of this ingeniously calculated composition becomes more subtle. In accordance with the emblem Fig. 20, the group of musicians forms an image of love as the creator of harmony and concord. Just as does music, so love craves consideration and a willing submissiveness. Yet, there are clouds in the heavens. Compared with the serene landscape on the lid of the virginals, the painting to the left on the wall appears sombre and troubled, as does the arrangement in the foreground with the bass‐viol on the floor and a zither on the table. Compositionally, the group of musicians reflects the Baburen painting to the right. The difference, however, is secured by the blissful landscape on the lid. This pictorial staging brings to mind the van Veen emblem Conservat cuncta Cupido (pp. 34 f.), which stems from Empedocles and is rendered as Amour par tout, tout par Amour. Par Amour tout, par tout Amour. Empedocles’ conception of a universal Love versus an opposing destructive power can contribute to an understanding of this infinitely complex work. As for “The Music Lesson” at Buckingham Palace (Fig. 21), this title is misleading in so far as here we behold rather the end of a musical session (59). The situation can be reminiscent of the emblem pp. 182 f., with its text from Euripides: Ut speculum puellae faciem arguit sic amantem fortuna. Behind the man is visible part of a painting, the subject of which is Caritas romana. (60) Just as the mirror gives us the features of the woman, so does the figure of Cimon on the wall mirror, as it were, the man, who significandy carries a stick. Here, the emblem Fig. 22 becomes most relevant. Cupid leaves his beloved with pinioned wings and leaning on a stick (Celerem habet ingressum Amor, regressum tardum). The disparity between the man and the young woman, also stressed by the strikingly asymmetrical composition, (56) furthermore recalls the emblem Fig. 23 and its motto Spes Amoris nutrix optima. Just as Spes holds a lily‐like flower, so too do dark blue bands trace the outline of a fleur‐de‐lis on the dress of the woman in Vermeer's painting. Just as the man has laid down his instrument before her, so did Cupid lay down his bow at the feet of Spes. In tune with the spirit of this emblem goes the moving device on the lid of the virginals: Musica letitiae comes, Medicina dolorum. “The Music Lesson” is a variation on a theme which many painters have treated in Holland. But Vermeer's painting strikes a mysterious chord we do not encounter elsewhere, as if it bore a secret and private message. The fact that Vermeer has placed his signature on the frame of the Caritas Romana painting, and indeed just below the Figure of Cimon, may have a meaning.
Loading…
Stored only when both papers are in the corpus — 7 citations exist upstream.
Papers that cite the same references — the relational fallback while embeddings are still backfilling.
Imported from OpenAlex (CC0) — nothing here is generated.