EARLY YEARS (1627-1633)
Of the blank spaces in the record of Rembrandt's career, none is so long
or so inexplicable as that which begins with his return from Amsterdam
to Leyden in 1624. Here the track breaks off abruptly, and we can be
sure of nothing until we come to the first known pictures signed by him,
and dated 1627.
We will take first the picture discovered by Sir J. C. Robinson about
twenty years ago, and presented by him to the Berlin Gallery. It
represents a wrinkled old man, seated at a table. Papers and account
books lie around him, and are heaped up in the background, and on his
left, resting on a thick volume, stands a fat purse. A pair of scales
are in front of him, and beside them a dozen or so of coins. Lifting a
candle in his left hand, he throws the light of it upon a piece of
money. The work, though promising, is in no way startling, and he would
have been an acute critic who could have foretold from it the lofty
height to which the painter of it was to soar. It is signed, with one of
the ever-varying forms of his signature, R.H., combined in a monogram,
followed by the date 1627.
The other picture known to belong to this first year, "St Paul in
Prison," is in the Museum at Stuttgart [No. 225], and presents much the
same merits of close observation, much the same defects of timid
execution as the last. It represents the saint seated in a straw-strewn
dungeon, lighted by a single beam of sunlight, surrounded by books, with
the sword that symbolises him, meditating before writing. The signature
in this case is a double one: the first, consisting of his full name,
with one of his curious mis-spellings, Rembrand, and underneath fecit;
the second an elaborate R followed by f. 1627, and below the down
stroke, crossing the tail of the R, a smaller L, which Dr Bode suggests
stands for Leydensis.
Three other pictures, all undated, are attributed to this year or the
next, a "Philosopher reading by Candle-light," painted on copper, "A
Study of Himself," at Cassel [No. 208], and a "Portrait of his Mother,"
which was lent for a time to the Ryksmuseum at Amsterdam, but is there
no longer.
In the Cassel picture, small as it is, the breadth and vigour of
treatment, the courage of the work are so remarkable that it is
difficult to believe that it is of the same period as the previous
pictures. It is a study of little more than the head, presenting one of
those effects of contrasted light and shade which he so loved that
pseudo-art slang has nicknamed them of late years Rembrandt effects. The
shadows are a little dark, the contrasts are a little forced, wanting
the true gradations, but the power displayed is so great, the frankness
of the handling so certain that, especially in a photograph, the little
study has all the appearance of a life-sized picture.
There are again two pictures dated in the following year, 1628. "Samson
captured by the Philistines," at Berlin, is a not too successful first
attempt at a composition of several figures, but it is of interest to
the student as showing the sternly practical bent of Rembrandt's
imagination, the intense craving for a strictly probable conception of
the scene which, though at times it led him over the border of the
simple into the absolutely ludicrous, more often gives that wonderfully
impressive vitality and depth of feeling to his pictures. Here, as
elsewhere, he aims not at all at heroic attitudes and over-dramatic
effect; he makes no attempt to invent the scene as it ought to have
looked, but endeavours to realise how it did look. The Philistines, he
knew, were afraid of Samson, and he will not bate a jot of their
terrors. One of them advances in fear and trembling, carefully keeping
Delilah between himself and the object of his dread; while the other
hides unequivocally behind the bed-curtains.
Here, also, we find an instance of his habit of painting in accessories
because they were picturesque and available, quite regardless of their
appropriateness, in the Malay kriss thrust into Samson's belt; and here
we find for the first time that blending of the features of the two
earlier monograms, the R.H. of the one, with the L. of the other, into
the thenceforth frequent combination R.H.L. with the date 1628.
The second picture, bearing the same monogram and date, is in the
possession of Herr Karl von der Heydt of Elberfeld, showing a man in
full armour, standing by a fire in a courtyard, and closely observed by
soldiers and servants, which Dr Bode not unreasonably believes to
represent "The Denial of St Peter." Seven other pictures are attributed
to about that date, one of which is believed by its possessor, Dr
Bredius, to be a "Portrait of Rembrandt's Mother" (_see_ illustration,
p. 6). There are also a copy of this, showing a little more of the
figure, attributed to Rembrandt, but probably by another hand; two
portraits supposed to be "The Painter's Father," one lent by Dr Bredius
to the Museum at the Hague [No. 565], the other in the Museum at Nantes;
a "Portrait of a Boy," at Hinton St George, and a doubtful one of "A
Young Girl," called Rembrandt's sister Lysbeth, at Stockholm [No. 591].
A "Judas with the Price of the Betrayal," in the collection of Baron
Arthur de Schickler of Paris, is considered by M. Michel to be the
identical picture to which Constantin Huygens referred in that eulogy
which has been mentioned in the painter's life. A "Raising of Lazurus,"
in the collection of Mr Yerkes in New York, completes the list.
There is only one picture bearing the date 1629, a small "Portrait of
Himself," at Gotha [No. 181]; but there are eleven others believed to
have been painted about that time. Two are in the Mauritshuis at the
Hague. A "Bust of Himself" [No. 148] is a strong, resolute piece of
work, and a marked advance on all that he had done before. The other
picture at the Hague [No. 598] is supposed to be his elder brother
Adriaen. There is less doubt about a portrait in the Ryksmuseum at
Amsterdam [No. 1248], painted about that time, though bearing a forged
signature and the impossible date 1641. It is that of a man with a
short peaked beard and grey moustaches martially brushed up, and a long
aquiline nose. The same features occur frequently in the earlier
pictures and etchings, and M. Michel has made out a very good case for
their being those of Harmen Gerritsz, the painter's father.
There are three other "Portraits of Himself," "A Head of a Boy," "A
Young Man Laughing," and a "St Peter," all painted about that time; but
of more importance are two small subject-pictures. The first, signed
R.H., but not dated, "Christ at Emmaus," in the possession of Madame
Andr[e']-Jacquemart of Paris, is the earliest example of that
presentment of a group of figures lighted by artificial light, to which
Rembrandt was so partial. Here, as in most cases, the source of the
light is hidden, as it stands on a table, on the right of the picture,
in front of which Christ is seated, in profile to the left, his
silhouette sharply cut against the radiance. At his feet one of the
disciples kneels. The second, seated in the centre, on the further side
of the table, lifts up his hands in amazement. On the left, in the
background, the secondary softer illumination, so frequently introduced
in similar effects by Rembrandt, is provided by the glow of firelight on
two women engaged in cooking. The other is "The Presentation in the
Temple," in the collection of Consul Weber at Hamburg. Like the last, it
is signed, with the full name Rembrandt however, but is not dated, and
the effect is to some extent marred by the harshness of the contrasts of
light and shade, his later complete grasp of subtle transitions being
still imperfectly developed.
Six out of the seventeen pictures attributed to 1630 or thereabouts are
signed and dated, and one, a reproduction of the "Portrait of his
Father," in the Hermitage at St Petersburg [No. 814], is signed with the
monogram R.H.L., but not dated; while a different portrait of the same,
at Rotterdam [No. 237], is signed R. alone. Four of these are portraits:
one, at Hamburg, of "Maurice Huygens," the brother of the painter's
admirer Constantin; one, in the collection of Count Andrassy at
Buda-Pesth, his own; one, at Cassel, of an unknown "Old Man" [No. 209];
and one, in the Ferdinandeum at Innsbruck, though called "Philon the
Jew," is probably his father. One of the two subject-pictures, in the
Six collection, Amsterdam, is a sketch, broadly but expressively
handled, of "Joseph interpreting his Dreams," signed with the full name
Rembrandt, 1630. The other, signed R.H.L. 1630, in the collection of
Count Stroganoff, is of doubtful import. It represents an old man seated
in a cave, resting his head upon his right hand, while his left rests on
a large book. Beside him lie a cloth embroidered with gold, various gold
vessels, and other objects of value. In the distance is seen a town in
flames, from which the inhabitants are hurriedly escaping. What it is
intended to represent is an unsolved riddle, and the title of "A
Philosopher in Meditation," though convenient to identify it by, has not
otherwise much significance. The remaining eleven pictures are studies
or portraits, of which the old woman, belonging to the Earl of Pembroke,
a bust of "A Young Girl," the property of Dr Bredius, and lent by him to
the Hague Museum, and another "Portrait of an Old Woman" resembling
somewhat in features the picture at Wilton, but known, for some
mysterious reason as, "The Countess of Desmond," may be mentioned.
At what time in 1631 Rembrandt moved to Amsterdam we have no means of
judging, nor can we say with any certainty which pictures of that year
were painted before, which after, his change of residence. A "Bust of
his Father," signed R.H.L. 1631, the property of Mr Fleischmann, was
probably among the former. The "Young Man with the Turban," at Windsor,
must also, presumably, have been painted before his removal, if M.
Michel is justified in his belief that it is a portrait of Gerard Dou.
Of the others we know nothing that points either way.
Rembrandt was now beginning to find himself. The dry precision, the
timid carefulness have disappeared. His hand moves easily about its
appointed task, not indeed, as yet, with the splendid freedom of later
years, but with an assured confidence. He knows what he wants to do, and
begins to feel that he can do it. The commissions that finally
necessitated his establishment in Amsterdam showed him also, we may
suppose, that other people appreciated the fact, and we may, perhaps,
refer to this growing confidence in himself the great increase in the
number of pictures signed that year. There are eleven, bearing both date
and signature, two signed, but undated, and two which, though bearing
neither date nor signature, are believed to have been painted about that
time.
[Illustration: [_Hermitage, St. Petersburg_
PORTRAIT CALLED COPPENOL
(1631)]
Of the first class, a picture of a man reading, in the Museum at
Stockholm [No. 579], known as "St Anastasius," bears yet another version
of the painter's name, the d being absent in this case, so that it reads
Rembrant. A "Holy Family," at Munich [No. 234], signed Rembrandt, is
an example of a propensity, which he never thoroughly shook off, to
over-compose his pictures.
The same over-marked arrangement, though, to a far less degree, is also
observable in the pyramidal group in the otherwise splendid
"Presentation in the Temple," at the Hague [No. 145]. This is signed
with the initials R.H. alone, interlaced, but seven others bear the
three, R.H.L., including the portrait of Gerard Dou, already mentioned;
a portrait, said to be his mother, at Oldenburg [No. 166], wearing a
semi-oriental dress, and reading, from which circumstance the picture
has obtained the name of "The Prophetess Anna"; and the "Portrait of a
Merchant," long called "Coppenol," in the Hermitage at St Petersburg
[No. 808].
Of the two undated pictures, "Zachariah receiving the Prophecy of the
Birth of John the Baptist," in the collection of M. Albert Lehmann,
Paris, bears the full name Rembrandt. The mysterious figure at Berlin
[No. 828=C.=], a young woman in a rich dress, seated by a table, on
which lie pieces of armour, a book, and a lute, while other arms,
including a shield, decorated with a gorgon's head, hang on the wall
above her, gaming for her the fanciful titles "Judith" or "Minerva," has
only vague traces of the initial R. Of the last class, one is a copy,
formerly in the Beresford-Hope collection, of the "Portrait of his
Father," in the Ryksmuseum, the other is a small figure of "Diana
Bathing," in the collection of M. Warneck, Paris.
Once satisfactorily established in Amsterdam, Rembrandt increased his
annual production marvellously. The number of pictures known or believed
to belong to each of the four preceding years, are, in succession, four,
nine, twelve, and twenty, the numbers for the four succeeding years are,
respectively, forty-two, thirty, twenty-six, and twenty-seven; or,
taking the average of each period, we find that the first would give a
little more than eleven pictures per annum, the second, very nearly
thirty. 1632, in especial, when he was new to Amsterdam, was a year of
extraordinary energy.
[Illustration: [_Imperial Museum, Vienna_
PORTRAIT OF A MAN
(1630-1632)]
[Illustration: [_Imperial Museum, Vienna_
PORTRAIT OF A WOMAN
(1630-1632)]
We find also, at the same time, a vast increase in the number of signed
pictures, yet still note a surprising variety in the form the signature
takes. No less than thirty are signed, and all but two of these are also
dated. Nine of them bear the monogram, R.H.L., and ten others have the
same, with, for the first time, the addition van Rijn, while one has the
plain initial R. with van Rijn added. One, forming a sort of transition
with the other group, is signed Rembrandt H.L. van Rijn, and nine are
signed with the full name, in three of which the d is missing.
Thirty-four of the pictures are portraits, and six of them form pairs
representing husband and wife--namely, "Burgomaster Jan Pellicorne, with
his son Caspar," and "Suzanna van Collen, his Wife, and her Daughter,"
in the Wallace collection; an unknown Man and his Wife, in the Imperial
Museum, Vienna, though these four are only believed to belong to that
year; the portraits of "Christian Paul van Beersteyn," and "Volkera
Nicolai Knobbert," his wife, in the possession of Mr Havemeyer of New
York, alone bearing the date. There is also a portrait at Brunswick
[No. 232], fantastically called "Grotius," the companion of which was
painted next year; another, believed, with good reason, to represent "Dr
Tulp," formerly in the collection of the Princess de Sagan, which is
also one of a pair, though the picture of the wife was not painted until
two years later; and a third, in the collection of M. Pereire, Paris, of
a man, whose wife was also not painted till the following year. Twelve
others represent actually or conjecturally known individuals, but two of
these, if, as is probable, they represent the painter's father, must
have been painted earlier, as would also be the case with four others
more doubtfully described, two as his mother, two as his sister. One at
Cassel [No. 212] almost certainly represents "Coppenol, the
Caligraphist," and an admirable picture in Captain Holford's collection,
is undoubtedly "Martin Looten," a merchant of Amsterdam; while, even in
that busy year, he found time once to paint his own portrait. The other
four include the two of "Saskia," already mentioned in the Life, and two
men, one said to be "Matthys Kalkoen," and one, a certain "Joris de
Caulery."
So engaged was he on portraiture, that he only found time for three
small figure subjects, if, indeed, they were painted that year, for none
is dated. One, in the Wallace collection, is "The Good Samaritan"; the
second at Berlin [No. 823], represents "Pluto in his Chariot carrying
off Proserpine," quite the most successful of Rembrandt's rare appeals
to classical mythology for inspiration; while the third at Frankfort
[No. 183], is a somewhat indifferent rendering of "David playing the
Harp before Saul."
I have left to the last, the great work of that year, the famous
"Anatomy Lesson," at the Hague. In producing this, the largest and most
ambitious work he had yet attempted, one, moreover, the success or
failure of which could scarcely help having a marked influence on his
future career, Rembrandt, we cannot but perceive, was not altogether at
his ease. There are obvious signs that the hand that could already move
with such courage and freedom, when the mere satisfying of himself was
in question, was hampered by a return, partial at least, to his earlier
timidity, when so much was at stake. He was so anxious to do his best
that the spontaneity, conspicuous in most of his work, escaped in the
process. The result is a little stiff in consequence, and the work
somewhat dry and frigid; but the life and expression in the various
heads is, nevertheless, so excellent, that it is impossible to regard it
without delight and admiration.
Portraits again took up much of his time in 1633, among them the two
companions to the portraits of the year before, and another pair,
"Willem Burchgraeff," at Dresden [No. 1557], and "Margaretha van
Bilderbeecq," his wife, in Frankfort [No. 182]. The painter's
masterpiece, however, in matrimonial groups, is the "Shipbuilder and his
Wife," at Buckingham Palace.
[Illustration: [_The Hague_
THE ANATOMY LESSON
(1632)]
[Illustration: [_Cassel_
PORTRAIT OF JAN HERMAN KRUL
(1633)]
There are thirteen other signed portraits of that year, including one of
"Jan Herman Krul," at Cassel [No. 213], two of "Saskia"--one at Dresden
[No. 1556]; one, called however, "Lysbeth van Rijn," which belonged to
the late Baroness Hirsch-Gereuth--and two of himself, one, the oval
portrait in the Louvre [No. 412], and the other in the collection of M.
Warneck at Paris. Out of these twelve signatures, only one is the
monogram R.H.L., the other eleven being signed with the full name, and
from only one of these, "A Head of a Girl," in the collection of Prince
Jousoupoff, is the d missing.
Three subject-pictures also belong to that year, in all probability; "An
Entombment," in the Hunterian Museum, Glasgow; a small picture described
as "Petitioners to a Biblical Prince," belonging to M. L[e']on Bonnat of
Paris; and "A Philosopher in Meditation" [No. 2541], in the Louvre. The
last, indeed, though undated, may almost certainly be attributed to that
year, since its companion, another "Philosopher in Meditation," also in
the Louvre [No. 2540], is signed R. van Rijn, 1631. But the great event
of the year must have been the patronage which came to him from Prince
Frederick-Henry, resulting in the purchase of two pictures, both of
which, in later years, after passing to the gallery at D[u"]sseldorf,
were transferred to Munich.
In both we see Rembrandt at his most characteristic--his determination
to tell his story clearly, to concentrate his light upon the chief
figure, the keynote of his theme, to get the true and expressive actions
of his personages, not even yet free of some exaggeration, without
troubling a jot as to the minor detail of correct costume. So, in the
first, "The Elevation of the Cross" [No. 327], the cross, with the tense
figure wrung with anguish, slants right athwart the picture, and stands
out against the murky sky and dim surrounding crowds with startling
incisiveness. So the four men occupied in raising it display an almost
passionate energy; so a soldier wears a more or less classical helmet
and breastplate over a sleeved doublet unknown to Rome; a man behind is
dressed in the peasant's ordinary garb of Rembrandt's day; and another,
wearing a doublet and soft flat cap, seems to be Rembrandt's self; while
the centurion on horseback superintending the carrying out of the
sentence is a frank Turk as to his headgear, a nondescript for the rest
of him. The other, "The Descent from the Cross" [No. 326], while
displaying many of the same qualities, merits and defects alike, is more
deliberately composed, suffers indeed from that over-composition already
noticed, being too obviously built up into that high pyramidal form,
which we found in "The Presentation in the Temple." There is,
nevertheless, a very delicate sentiment of pathos in it, and that
Rembrandt himself was content with it, is shown not only by his
correspondence with Huygens on the subject, but by the fact that he
repeated it on a larger scale during the following year. Yet so
curiously capricious was he in adding or withholding date and signature
that neither has a date, and only "The Descent from the Cross" is
inscribed with what appears to be C. Rlembrant f.
[Illustration: [_Munich Gallery_
THE ELEVATION OF THE CROSS
(1633)]