Vermeer at Amsterdam’s Rijksmuseum - Part 1

(Written from hospital in Amsterdam after my NHS prosthetic leg decided not to move with my stump the same afternoon I saw the exhibition.)

There is a serenity to Johannes Vermeer’s paintings that is bewitching and draws the eye. Whether the scene depicted is an exterior of Delft, the smart Dutch town where he was born and lived his short 43 year life (1632-1675), or one of his famous interiors with a self-assured, mysterious woman carrying out her activities with a quiet confidence, Vermeer seems to capture a world that is largely at peace with itself.

This quietly stunning exhibition at Amsterdam’s Rijksmuseum, which brings together 28 of the 37 paintings attributed to the Dutch Old Master, is like stepping back into his world. That you have to clatter along the hall of the rest of the museum and down a long, light-drenched corridor almost makes it feel as if you are journeying physically back into Vermeer’s era. I almost expected to hear someone strumming a lute as we arrived. As soon as you enter the exhibition, there is darkness, a visible hush, and, save the flashing of cameras, ostensible entry into the calm Dutch world of over 400 years ago.

And there is so much to soak up. Each painting is composed with diligence. The chiaroscuro whereby very dark areas often border light-soaked ones, means our eyes dance between the two, taking in details we might otherwise have missed. Textures add to the realism and sense that we are there. And the people are observed naturalistically.

Vermeer is known to have painted three canvases of Delft, and two of them open this exhibition. In The Little Street (1658-‘59), the worn orange brick of the symmetrical house with its characteristic Dutch decorative inlets contrasts with the painted wooden shutters and the glass windows with their latticed screens. The climbing plant - ivy? - scrambles up the left side of the building. In the open doorway, a woman peacefully embroiders while two children play nearby. Another woman can be seen engaged in domestic duties in the background. The houses behind appear darker, but the white of the clouds above draws them out. It is a scene of every day life, and yet fascinating.

The other scene of Delft is View of Delft (1660-1661.) Light is reflected off the water in a canal. The sandy banks appear luminous by contrast. Two women stand and talk; the appearance is of friends carrying out shopping chores bumping into each other. Boats line the banks, and on the nearside, a woman perches a child on her hip and stands a few steps away from two other men and a smartly-dressed woman negotiating. Is a deal being negotiated for the smart couple to be driven upstream? People-watching is just as fascinating when the subjects are those from the past.

But Vermeer didn’t always paint accurately from life. The accompanying plaque tells us that some of the topography in the second scene has been changed - presumably for effect. In his interiors, too, Vermeer used fictional ploys to add intrigue. The way the viewer is pulled into the life of the woman depicted playing a musical instrument or sending/receiving a letter reveal that Vermeer knew something of the human thirst for drama and stories.

The first paintings Vermeer is known to have created are actually two religious ones. Having been born a Protestant, the artist probably converted to Catholicism in order to marry Catharina Bolnes, a Catholic. Saint Praxedis and Christ in the House of Mary and Martha were commissions from the new Catholic milieu he found himself in when he moved into the large house of his new wife’s mother.    

The Saint Praxedis was a copy of a painting by Tuscan artist Felice Ficherelli. One of the differences from the original is that Vermeer placed a gold crucifix in the hands of his young saint. It may have been the Jesuits who instructed Vermeer to make this change. Certainly, he owned a wooden crucifix, and it was among the items inventoried from his house when he died.

The girlish pink fabric and fresh-faced look of the young woman Saint belie the gruesome task she has set for herself - according to the Scriptures, Saint Praxedis collected and cared for the bodies of those killed for their Christian beliefs. Looking at the painting, it’s astonishing quite how bright that pink and the blue of the sky are. It’s our gain that these Vermeer paintings have all been preserved and restored so carefully.

Jesus in the House of Mary and Martha relates to Christ’s visit to these two sisters at their home. While Martha scrabbled around procuring refreshments for their visitor, Mary merely sat and listened to Him, and the painting shows Christ explaining to Martha that Mary has done the right thing; that listening is so much more important than social niceties of appearances. It’s wryly interesting that the parable holds even in the secular sense today.