BIBLICAL SUBJECTS AND PORTRAITURE
To the Dutch method of treating Biblical subjects we have already
alluded in the case of Rembrandt and Jan Steen. It shows in common the
motive of translating the story into the vernacular of Dutch life,
accompanied on the part of Rembrandt with strong emotional and dramatic
appeal, expressed by means of color and chiaroscuro. It was also
Rembrandt’s practice to employ models selected from the Ghetto in
Amsterdam. Among his followers was a group of men who emulated his
treatment of Biblical subjects, while they also distinguished themselves
in portraiture. Hence the convenience of considering these two branches
of Dutch painting in the same chapter. Moreover, the incongruity between
the two is not so great as it may appear at first sight, since the Dutch
perpetuated the Flemish tendency, which was also German, of not only
personifying the sacred characters by personages of their own day, but
of reproducing so faithfully their characterization that the heads were
practically portraits.
Among the pupils of Rembrandt who varied portraiture with pictures from
the Bible story were, in order of their age, Govert Flinck, Ferdinand
Bol, Carel Fabritius, Gerbrandt van den Eeckhout, and Aert de Gelder;
while another, who is known solely as a portrait-painter, was Dirck
Dircksz Santvoort.
GOVERT FLINCK
THIS artist (1615-1660) began by being so close an imitator of
Rembrandt’s method of chiaroscuro that many of his pictures used to be
taken for his master’s; later, however, when the fashion for Italian art
was revived, he abandoned the chiaroscuro and devoted himself to line
and form. Indeed, he seems to have been an able opportunist; but to
mistake him for Rembrandt suggests a shallow conception of the latter.
Flinck’s Biblical masterpiece is probably the _Isaac Blessing Jacob_; in
the Rijks Museum. The patriarch’s half-figure, as he sits propped up by
pillows, is clad in a splendid crimson robe; the gesture of the arms is
full of dignity, and the head crowned with the majestic character of old
age. And the aged face of Rebecca is reverently characteristic. The
color throughout is rich, and the light and shadow are warm and
luminous. It is an effective rendering of a grave incident, but the
latter has been seen rather than felt, and certainly not with the depth
and poignancy of feeling that Rembrandt would have suggested. Another
fine example of Flinck’s is in the Dresden Gallery--_David Handing the
Letter to Uriah_. Crimson again appears in the king’s robe, contrasted
with which is a large mass of golden yellow with red border, formed by
the cloak of a secretary at his side, while Uriah’s figure, kept in
shadow, is clad in peacock blue and purplish brown. The whole forms a
splendid scheme of color, and again the characterization is extremely
interesting, especially that of the black-haired and-bearded king, who
shows a certain mingling of hardness and nervousness in his face and
demeanor. The treatment is seriously conceived, but with rather a faint
grasp of the dramatic possibilities involved in the theme.
In the _Angel and the Shepherds_ of the Louvre there is still less
feeling for the scene, except in so far as it offered an opportunity for
chiaroscuro. Even the composition is rather perfunctory, the shepherds
being huddled on the right, balanced by a cow and sheep on the opposite
side of the foreground, while the angel who brings the message of
Christ’s birth appears above in the center with cherubs. Nor is the
chiaroscuro satisfactory, for while there are some nice passages of
color in the lighted parts, the shadows are without quality and seem
used only as foils to the light, and not as having individual value.
More successful in its recollection of the Rembrandt manner, and
altogether a picture of considerable charm, is the classical subject,
_Diana and Endymion_, in the Liechtenstein Gallery, Vienna.
In the Dresden Gallery are two of the old-men studies that this artist
frequently painted, while a more important example of his fondness for
representing old age is shown in the Art-History Museum, Vienna. This
_Gray-Bearded Old Man_ suggests, like the others, the influence of
Rembrandt, but superficially. It has the venerableness of old age, but
not the power of expression that makes Rembrandt’s treatment of this
subject so spiritually compelling.
The Louvre has a charming _Portrait of a Little Girl_, in an olive-green
dress, holding a spade. In arrangement of costume and choice of color it
is quite Rembrandtesque. Again, in the Berlin Gallery is a very pleasing
_Portrait of a Young Woman_. But it is in the Rijks Museum that the
portraiture of Flinck can best be studied, both in corporation pictures
and single figures. They vary in quality from the quite impressive bust
portrait (No. 931) of _M. Johannes Wittenbogaert_ (?), with its mellow
flesh tints and strong suggestion of character, to the showy but
perfunctory _Fête of the Civil Guard, Münster,, 1648_. In this there is
no charm of flesh and little of fabrics. The whole is pompously
theatrical, done apparently for “business,” with no eye to anything but
satisfying the vanity of the subjects.
FERDINAND BOL
FERDINAND BOL (1616-1680) in the beginning of his career reproduced the
manner of Rembrandt. His coloring was mellow and enriched by
chiaroscuro. Later, about 1650, the chiaroscuro became less pronounced
and the color insipid. While he is esteemed chiefly for his portraits,
he also treated Biblical subjects, as may be seen by three examples in
the Dresden Gallery and two in the Rijks Museum. The most pleasing of
the Dresden pictures is _Jacob Presented to Pharaoh by Joseph_. There is
a very characteristic look of scrutiny in Pharaoh’s face, while his
jewel-bespangled cloak, with its broad border of white and black fur,
affords a fine mass of scintillating color, juxtaposed to the rich
creamy costume of Joseph and the crimson of the old man’s. The picture,
indeed, presents a very handsome color-scheme, though one may discover a
certain stiffness and theatricality in the gesture of Joseph’s hands.
The accompanying picture, _Rest of the Holy Family during Its Flight
into Egypt_, is over six feet high and suggests a canvas too large for
the material introduced, so that one third of it is filled up with
supernumerary articles, such as a saddle and a basket of tools. One
suspects that the picture may have been intended as a decoration for
some wall-space, as the very large example in the Rijks Museum certainly
was. For this, _Abraham Receiving the Angels_ was one of five panels
painted for a room in a house at Utrecht, the other four being now in
the abbey of Middelburg in Zeeland. A mild reflection of Italian
Renaissance feeling is suggested by the _comme il faut_ disposition of
the angels’ draperies, but their coloring of golden amber is finely
Rembrandtesque; so, too, the glow of the yellowing beech-tree that
spires up into the top of the composition, and the plum-gray velvet of
Abraham’s robe. The picture, in fact, while shallow in its treatment of
the incident, is finely decorative. On the other hand, the _Salome
Dancing before Herod_, a work apparently of Bol’s later period, is an
absurdly bad picture, bright and flimsy in color and entirely trifling
as a study of form.
Of Bol’s capacity in portrait-painting a good example is _Portrait of a
Mathematician_, in the Louvre. He is shown resting one arm on a
balustrade, the body, in black with a white collar, being in profile,
while the gray-haired head, covered with a black cap, is facing round to
the spectator, as he points with a ruler to a geometrical figure on a
blackboard. It is a piece of honest characterization, blending vivacity
and dignity. In quite a different vein is his portrait of a girl in
profile in the Liechtenstein Gallery. She has soft pale blond hair, and
the figure is enveloped in that yellow tonality which marks Bol’s
transition from the Rembrandtesque manner to his later one. The girl
with her protruding forehead bears a striking resemblance to a girl,
painted by Rembrandt, in Room VI of the same gallery, and a comparison
of the two pictures offers an interesting commentary upon the essential
difference between the master and one of his most successful pupils.
Among five portraits by Bol in the Munich Pinakothek No. 338 may be
specified as particularly handsome. It is that of a man with dark-brown
hair and a mustache and imperial of lighter hue, possibly Govert Flinck.
He wears a black cap and cloak and leans his arm upon a table. The
following number in the catalogue is allotted to a portrait of this
man’s wife. She is shown as far as the waist, where her hands are
folded, the body full front, the head a little to the left. The face is
beautifully modeled in clear flesh-tones, surrounded by golden-brown
hair in ringlets. Beneath her white stomacher is a dull-red gown with
olive sleeves. Thus the color-scheme is Rembrandtesque, with an envelop
of warm amber atmosphere, while the serious sympathy with which the
characterization has been rendered would not be unworthy of Bol’s great
master.
Unfortunately, Bol by no means maintained this high standard, as may be
seen among the numerous examples of his portraits in the Rijks Museum.
They mostly belong to his later period. The best is the earliest one,
painted in 1657, representing the _Six Governors of the Huiszittenhuis_,
seated round a table in black clothes and steeple hats. The heads are
well characterized and the flesh-tones luminous; but an air of
attitudinizing pervades the assemblage, which has rather the prim, set
manner of a photographic group. And much the same feeling is aroused by
the _Four Governors of the Leper House_, which is considered in Holland
his masterpiece. In fact, it is not in the formal arrangement of a
corporation picture, but in a single figure, that Bol is seen to best
advantage. Yet some of the examples of these in the Rijks Museum, such
as the _Roelof Meulenaar_ and _Maria Rey_, are commonplace parodies of
Rembrandt’s manner, while that of the sculptor _Artus Quellinus_ is a
parody of Van Dyck’s elegance. Bol, in fact, was an able assimilator of
his master, Rembrandt, and as long as he retained the enthusiasm of his
youth, painted creditable and often excellent portraits. Later, however,
he drifted into the swim of social decadence, and his work is
characterized by affectation, vapidity, and perfunctoriness.
CAREL FABRITIUS
FABRITIUS (about 1620-1654), after studying with Rembrandt, resided in
Delft, where he became, it will be recalled, the teacher of Jan Vermeer.
His life was prematurely cut short by the explosion of a
powder-magazine, while he was in the act of painting the portrait of
Simon Decker, sacristan of the old church at Delft. In consequence, the
number of his pictures is small, and some of those which appear under
his name in the catalogues are of disputed attribution. He must have had
a precocious talent, for the _Portrait of Abraham de Notte_, in the
Rijks Museum, is dated 1640, when the artist was scarcely twenty. It is
a bust portrait in which the black-haired head, set against a light
background, is well enveloped in atmosphere, while the features are
fluently modeled in warm, luminous tones. It proves him to have been an
exceptionally apt pupil of the master, and helps to justify the
attribution to him of the other picture in the Rijks Museum, _The
Decapitation of St. John the Baptist_, a powerful and attractive work. A
golden luminosity, rich in quality, pervades the whole canvas. The
characterization of the figures is striking. The executioner, a sturdy,
brutal figure, with a rubicund, swollen face, showing above his white
shirt, holds the head upon a salver, with the absolute unconcern of a
butcher serving meat. A corresponding lack of emotion is apparent in the
two female figures, daintily dressed and of girlish refinement, Salome’s
eyes gazing into vacancy with a wistful expression, while Herodias,
looking but little older, gazes at the head with a slight air of
curiosity. The conception of these women is early Italian rather than
what one would associate with Dutch of the seventeenth century, and
recalls the expression of Mantegna’s _Judith with the Head of
Holofernes_. They suggest a sexless abstraction, moved by no active
impulse, yet hauntingly fascinating in its young passionlessness. In
the Berlin Gallery a _Study of a Man Praying_ is attributed to
Fabritius, while in the Munich Pinakothek are two portraits of young men
associated with his name. The bust portrait, No. 344, is definitely
assigned to him, while the half-length, No. 345, once attributed to him,
is now assigned to Rembrandt. It represents a young man with long hair
parted in the center, who, holding a sheaf of paper and a pen, seems to
have paused in his writing and is looking up and out of the picture with
an expression of rapt meditation. In its different way it is akin to the
expression of the _Salome_ in the other picture. That so gravely fine a
picture should have passed for a Fabritius suggests the character of the
estimation which hangs about the memory of this artist, who did not live
to fulfil the promise of his youth. Moreover, what is known and what is
conjectured about him suggests the value of his influence upon Jan
Vermeer, whose own tendency to give his figures a concentrated
absorption may possibly be traced to this source.
GERBRANDT VAN DEN EECKHOUT
EECKHOUT (1621-1674), the son of an Amsterdam goldsmith, was the first
pupil to enter Rembrandt’s studio and one of his closest imitators. For
example, in _The Woman Taken in Adultery_ of the Rijks Museum, the face
of the lonely figure of Christ is the center of light amid the
coruscation of rich coloring formed by the costumes of the scribes and
Pharisees, while a quieter note of dignity appears in the fine green and
plum draperies of the kneeling woman. The color is sonorous, yet its
echo does not penetrate to the depths of the surroundings, the shadows
of which are inclined to be opaque and unexplorable. Better in this
respect, that its shadows are more luminous, is the _Christ with the
Doctors_ of the Munich Pinakothek. Here the strongest light centers on
the head of an old rabbi, so as to bring out the color of his turban and
beard while leaving his face in shadow; a device which makes the little
face of the Child Christ, though it is clearly illuminated, seem by
comparison pathetically insignificant. Meanwhile the light touches here
and there the other figures in the group and penetrates their
environment of shadow. It is worth while to compare this picture with
the series of Biblical subjects by Rembrandt in the same museum,
particularly the _Adoration of the Shepherds_. In the Berlin Gallery
Eeckhout is represented by _Raising of Jairus’s Daughter_ and a
_Presentation of Christ in the Temple_. These pictures, particularly the
latter, are wonderfully reminiscent of Rembrandt, finely composed in
masses of light and shade and sumptuous in color. In a third example,
_Mercury and Argus_, Eeckhout has treated this mythological subject with
some charm. The young nude figure of Mercury, with a blue drapery over
his knees, as he sits playing his pipe, is a charming white spot against
the warm ruddiness of the rocky landscape, where beside a white and red
cow the brown nude form of Argus is stretched, as if in sleep. Farther
back in shadow are the sheep and goats. The feeling of the picture is
pleasant; but its suggestion is inclined to be rather superficial.
Of this artist’s portraits there is an example in the Brunswick Gallery
and one excellent specimen in the National Gallery. This is _The Wine
Contract_, in which the four governors of the Wine Guild of Amsterdam,
dressed in black, are seated at a table, examining a contract.
AERT DE GELDER
DE GELDER was a pupil of Rembrandt’s old age. He himself was not born
until 1645, and, it is supposed, was little over fifteen when, after
studying with Hoogstraten in their native city, Dordrecht, he went to
Amsterdam. Then he returned to Dordrecht and resided there until his
death in 1727. He is thus one of the latest of the artists of the period
we are considering. An early work, dated 1671, directly inspired by
Rembrandt, is in the Dresden Gallery. _The Presentation of Christ in the
Temple_ is a reproduction in color of Rembrandt’s well-known etching of
this subject, worked out in red and brown and olive green, enveloped in
a dull, warm glow, which, however, has more of mannerism than of
suggestion to the imagination. The accompanying example in this gallery,
_An Important Document_, shows a man and woman seated at a table,
covered with a red cloth, examining a paper. The coloring is warm, the
hands and faces, however, inclining to an unpleasant brickiness of red,
while the whole aspect of the scene is lifelike but uninspired. The
Dresden Gallery also owns the _Portrait of a Halberdier_, a well-painted
and fairly interesting study of a stout man, with rosy, glowing face
beneath a fur-brimmed hat, whose uniform is of various tones of olive
green.
De Gelder is also represented by three portraits in the Rijks Museum and
by a Biblical subject, _Judah and Thamar_, in the Hague Gallery, but the
best example of the latter kind is in the Museum of Art at Budapest.
This _Esther and Mordecai_, dated 1685, shows the queen, seated at a
table before an open book, resplendent in a brocaded and jeweled cloak
and a tagged and tufted dress, listening while Mordecai, bending forward
with humble admiration, addresses her. The coloring is rich and mellow,
and the delineation of character, especially in the case of Mordecai,
has considerable suggestion of the spirit of the story.
DIRCK DIRCKSZ SANTVOORT
IF it is a fact, as generally supposed, that Santvoort (1610-1680) was
one of Rembrandt’s pupils, he did not follow the master’s use of
chiaroscuro, but rather the example of his elaborately detailed
portraits. In Santvoort’s own case, as he may be studied in the Rijks
Museum, this led at first’ to hardness of modeling, as may be seen in
the portrait group of the _Dirck Bas Jacobsz Family_, dated 1634, where
the stiffness of the composition is increased by the gaze of every face
being focused to one point. Still hard, but full of character, is a
later portrait, dated 1638, of _Four Ladies of the Spinhuis_. The latter
was the house of correction, and these guardians and matrons look
competent to rule it firmly. More theatrical in arrangement, with hands
pointing this way and that, is the _Four Governors of the Serge Hall_
(1643). Meanwhile, three years earlier, Santvoort painted the single
portrait of _Frederick Dircksz Alewyn_, which again is harsh in texture
and bronze-like in color. On the other hand, the portrait of this man’s
wife, _Agatha Geelvinck_, has a distinct charm. The light falls upon her
forehead and soft hair, which is frizzed out with little curls, while
the features are modeled with a dainty discretion that recalls a
Florentine primitive. Then follow two portraits of children,
respectively ten and nine years old, _Martinus_ and _Clara Alewyn_. They
are represented as a shepherd and shepherdess, the former in a rose
tunic, with a scarf of goldish sheen, quite Rembrandtesque in quality,
the latter in a satin dress of the hue of strawberries and cream. She
carries a bow and arrow, and is accompanied by lambs, while the boy is
attended by a black greyhound. The hands and faces are well modeled and
have expression, while the painting throughout is fluent and limpid. The
pictures are inclined to sentimentality, which, however, is more easily
excused because of the youngness of the children and the painter-like
quality of the technique.
BARTHOLOMEUS VAN DER HELST
From the above followers of Rembrandt, who reflect the manner but so
little of the greatness of the master, it is a relief to turn to a
portrait-painter who, while he owed something to Rembrandt in the way of
chiaroscuro, was
[Illustration: PORTRAIT OF PAUL POTTER BARTHOLOMEUS VAN DER HELST
HAGUE MUSEUM]
an independent personality and one of force. It is Bartholomeus van der
Helst, born in Haarlem in 1613, whose life, however, was spent in
Amsterdam, where he died in 1670. It is in the Rijks Museum that he is
most brilliantly represented, though his single portraits stud the
galleries of Europe. Their usual feature is direct and vivid
characterization, conveyed without much persuasiveness of manner, but
singularly sincere. One example, however, the _Portrait of Paul Potter_,
is an exception, being both in technique and feeling one of the most
persuasive portraits to be met with. It has in it also a suggestion of
the feeling for decorative arrangement, which was elaborated on so
sumptuous a scale in the corporation pictures of the Rijks Museum.
In the chapter on Hals I alluded to Van der Helst as his inferior in
composition and characterization. And the judgment stands, especially
when you find yourself at Haarlem in the presence of the superb facility
and quality of Hals’s genius. None the less, when you face the
prodigious output of Van der Helst’s talent in the Rijks Museum, you
realize that, while he was less efficient as a painter, less gifted with
the ease, as it were, of improvisation, in his compositions, he had yet
an exuberance of invention and a gusto for characteristic
generalization, so amazing that from a distance one may be disposed to
question if Hals, after all, was so much greater. At his best he
undoubtedly was, having the artist’s fine gift of heightening the
significance of what he handled, and even in his less memorable work
exhibiting more or less of that magical manipulation which is itself an
inspiration. Beside him Van der Helst is less the artist than a mighty
craftsman, and, when one grows enthusiastic over him, it is not because
he has heightened the appeal of his material, but because he realizes so
wonderfully the prodigal physical exuberance of his day. This reaches
its culmination in his masterpiece, _The Banquet of the Civic Guard_
(No. 1135). Grouped around the standard-bearer, who is in black velvet
with a sash of the same blue silk as the flag, are some two dozen
figures, arranged in natural positions, with easy gestures and heads and
hands individually characterized. In these particulars and the treatment
of the fabrics there is more than mere craftsmanship. The latter has
been regulated by a superior order of intellect.
It is here that one seems to discover the essential difference between
Van der Helst and Hals. The former is intellectually the bigger man,
while Hals’s distinction is a superiority of feeling. His work,
therefore, has the sensuous charm in which the other’s is deficient.
When in the light of this you reëxamine Van der Helst’s masterpiece, it
is to discover that what is lacking in it is the esthetic quality. The
composition is not pervaded with atmosphere, in the various planes of
which the figures might take on differences of subtle value; and, while
there is an arrangement of light and shade, it is used only to assist
the modeling of the figures, and with no feeling for heightening the
beauty of the color-scheme by the luminosity of the hues. The result is
that the scene, for all its assertion of vital force, is lacking in
vivacity. The same test, applied to the other corporation pictures and
single portraits by this artist in the Rijks Museum, corroborates the
conviction that, apart from Rembrandt, Van der Helst was the biggest
intellectual force among the portrait-painters of Holland, but that he
lacked the esthetic feeling and accordingly the quality of technique
which alone make him inferior to Hals.
THOMAS DE KEYSER
SON of an architect and sculptor, Thomas de Keyser was born in
Amsterdam, 1596 or 1597, and died there in 1667. His career is divided
by a date about 1628. Before this his portraits are similar in character
to those of Nicolaes Elias, with which they have been confused. The
figures have a hardness and some stiffness, but unmistakable carrying
power; the flesh is leathery, dull in color, and expressionless, and the
composition either formally arranged in rows, or artlessly strung out in
separate items. Thus his earlier portraits present a curious mingling of
power and naïveté. They are representative of real people, but are not
yet conceived with an artist’s eye. Then by 1628 a change begins to
appear in De Keyser’s work, as it also did a few years later in that of
Elias. Atmosphere creeps into his pictures; the flesh becomes more
luminous, the composition at once more varied and more unified, and the
figures, without losing their character, acquire amenity and dignity. It
is said that De Keyser’s work influenced the young Rembrandt when he
first settled in Amsterdam, and it would seem as if also the older man
gradually gained something from the younger.
In the Rijks Museum an example of De Keyser’s early style is _The
Company of Captain Cloeck_ (No. 1300). It is true it is dated 1632; but
it still exhibits the hard-fleshed, vacantly staring faces, the figures
in unimaginative poses and in no atmospheric envelop, and spiritless
treatment of the fabrics. But compare _The Family Meebeeck Cruywaghen_
(No. 1349). Here the group is held together by a pleasing background of
trees and house, bathed in a yellow glow. It is the homestead, and the
comfort of it is reflected in the charming spontaneousness of feeling in
the figures--father, mother, and grandmother, and six happy children.
Each is delightfully individualized, and the expression of the whole
picture is one of dignity and sweetness. Or for dignity, again, of a
very refined order, take the equestrian _Portrait of Pieter Schout_ (No.
1650). There is here a fine feeling for color, the black horse and its
rider’s black hat and yellow coat showing grandly against the drab gray
of the lofty sky, below which are sand-dunes with light-green verdure.
The picture, though scarcely three feet high, has a sense of space and
the bigness of a large canvas.
The startling difference between De Keyser’s two styles is well
exemplified in the Berlin Gallery, where you can compare the hard
spread-out arrangement in black dresses of _An Old Lady and Her Three
Daughters_ with the genial dignity of _An Old Man and His Two Sons_. An
exceedingly interesting _Portrait of a Woman_ hangs in the Museum of Art
in Budapest. About fifty years old, she is seated in an arm-chair almost
facing us; in a handsome black silk dress, trimmed with brown fur, with
a wide starched ruff and a lawn cap
[Illustration: FAMILY OF ADMIRAL PIETER PIETERSZ THOMAS DE KEYSER
RIJKS MUSEUM, AMSTERDAM]
with wings over the ears. Her honest face is modeled in firm planes, and
is ruddy with health. This painter-like and admirably human portrait is
dated in the year that has been adopted as separating the artist’s two
periods: namely, 1628.
* * * * *
AMONG the portrait-painters whose work exhibits the characteristic
qualities of Dutch seventeenth-century art are Michiel Jansz van
Mierevelt (1567-1641) and Jan Anthonisz van Ravesteyn, both of whom
lived at The Hague, where they are well represented in the Mauritshuis;
Salomon de Bray (1597-1664), who lived in Haarlem, where he can be seen
to best advantage, and Paulus Moreelse (1571-1638), who was born and
lived the greater part of his life in Utrecht. To the average student of
painting the last named is probably the most interesting. The others are
highly esteemed in Holland, though it is pointed out that in the latter
part of their lives quality gave way to quantity. Indeed, they were so
prolific that one tires of trying to pick good examples out of the mass
of mediocrity. In the case of Moreelse, however, it is different. His
works, less numerous, have a choiceness of feeling and execution, his
portraits of women and children being especially gracious in conception
and treatment. Witness, for example, in the Rijks Museum the _Maria van
Utrecht_ and the portrait of a child of some seven years, _The Little
Princess_. In place of breadth and freedom, these pictures are precise
and meticulous in brushwork, the details of the costumes elaborately
reproduced, the faces softly modeled with faint greenish-gray shadows.
Yet they have character and suggest reality and possess an undeniable
charm. Somewhat broader in method is his _Portrait of a Young Lady_, in
the Budapest Museum. Seen to the waist, she is in black velvet, with
cuffs and a deep collar of exquisite point-lace. Her pleasantly
thoughtful face is painted with a somewhat dull and heavy brush, yet the
expression is that of life, and its charm is increased by the soft hair
being worn in large rolls over the ears and confined in a cap, of which
only the dainty edges of lace appear. It is a portrait of singularly
choice refinement.
To the occasional portraiture of the genre artists Maes, Terborch, and
Netscher we have alluded in another chapter.