That’s a lot of Vermeers making up the current exhibit at the Rijksmuseum—27, to be exact. We were early for the appointed time printed on our tickets, but were allowed in. We followed the blue line up the stairs to the darkened rooms where the paintings were positioned far apart on ink black walls under faint halos of light. It was a subdued atmosphere; the worshipful were in attendance. For me, it was part of my art saint pilgrimage which has included the Brueghels at the Kunsthistorisch, Velazquezes at the Prada, and Raphaels at the Vatican. Having taken my my vows as an art snob, I was a little surprised to see that Vermeer’s The Music Lesson” and “The Art Lesson” weren’t included. (One was in Vienna, the other in Britain’s Royal Collection—they weren’t coughing them up.)
Okay, a few masterpieces were missing, but the presentation, starting with Vermeer’s earliest work and following with its thematic evolution, was very well done. Information—biographical, historical, aesthetic—was spare but succinct.
The crowd, being worshipful, was well-mannered and didn’t clog up the flow; if one had to get the definitive digital shot, one did it with dispatch.
Up until now I had viewed Vermeers at museums (like the Mauritshuis in Den Haag which presently has “Girl With The Pearl Earring”) where there only one or two Vermeers which encouraged me to linger as I took in the painting. The exhibit at the Rijksmuseum confirmed my feeling that it is the best way to enjoy this artist. Vermeer’s quiet women have always made me wonder what’s on their mind. Reading a letter, are they wistful, hopeful, or just lost in a fantasy I can only guess at given the map Vermeer has painted on the wall behind them? I tend to get absorbed by their meditative demeanor, their inward mystery. And then, what he does with light to set the mood! There’s not a film gaffer that hasn’t prayed they could be so good.
So, taking in 27, even though the paintings aren’t large and spaced widely apart, well, the general idea of Vermeer’s work, the spread out sprawl, lessened my ability to let the beauty of his art sink in.
The hushed reverence of the Vermeer viewing called for a quick trip upstairs to get Jan Steen’s debauched take on the world.
Walking the streets of Amsterdam after leaving the museum was like being caught up in the crowd leaving a World Cup final.
The best way to beat the crowd
The sign above Rembrandtplein
More important that “what is she thinking?” is “is she pregnant?” There seems to be debate amongst the scholars on this — at least a quick check on Google seems to imply disagreement. She certainly looks pregnant, but pregnancy wasn’t typically represented in paintings of this period, and also there seems to have been a fashion for this type of dress and look. So…. who knows?
Another painting missing from the exhibition is “The Concert,” stolen from the Isabella Gardner in 1990. As the art critic in the New York Times quipped, “if you know where this painting is on display, please contact the FBI” (not an exact quote).