Selfies: Oil on Canvas

          Standing in a lush chamber, surrounded by marbles, silks, and velvet of the highest quality, dripping with the trappings of wealth, power and luxury, Louis XIV gazes out of the frame of his portrait.¹ In a regal pose with his body turned partially away, hand resting on a golden cane, and white-clad legs on full display, the King of France seems to gaze down upon the world. The world his visage looks down on is all that he thought himself the ruler as the “Sun King”.² This noble portrait, captured by Hyacinthe Rigaud in the opening years of the 18^th century, is a continuation of a tradition of donor portraiture, but applied to and glorifying the head of state instead of a religious subject. It is but one shift in the tapestry of artistic representation of the world. While a certain amount of portraiture in the 1600s was for the idealization of rich elite nobles, the rise of self-portraits and group portraits shows that artists were beginning to democratize their works and capture a shift in the political and social structures of society. 

        In this era much of the art continued to focus on religious topics, like the Conversion of Saint Paul, showing the moment of religious revelation from a novel mundane, external perspective, much of the art still focused on religion.³ Saint Serapion's body hangs limp in Francisco de Zurbaran's painting that bears the martyr’s name, his head resting to one side, his hand bound by rope in a posture not unlike the classic depiction of Christ.⁴ The deep tenebrism of Rembrandt van Rijn's Christ With The Sick Around Him, Receiving The Children reveals the faces of average people, the old, the sick, and the young alike, unusual in previous works, but still places Christ as the slightly off-center brightly illuminated focus of the dark composition.⁵

The laxly pointing finger of Christ emerging out of the cloak of darkness, the focus of Caravaggio's Calling of Saint Matthew, captures another religious moment, and calls the viewer into the frame to ponder the shock and surprise of the new apostle.⁶

Each in their own way altered the character of the depictions, be it with every-day models, chiaroscuro taken to an extreme, a visage of bodily death, or the mundane view of a religious conversion. What was consistent was the continued use of religious iconography; whatever else the artist was showing us about the world, the cross was still well in view.

          However, Louis stands as a god, “the center of the universe.”⁷ While his hubris might have been a bit unusual in the period, Louis was not alone in the commissioning of art that glorified a monarch. Anthony van Dyck's oil painting, Charles I Dismounted, shows the King of England engaging the viewer while taking a respite from riding in the countryside.⁸ Like Louis, Charles looks across his stance and directly at the viewer, his body having been turned to the ocean.⁹ While not draped in copious yards of exotic furs, his fine clothing, riding boots, and satin shirt betray his high station. His broad brimmed hat frames his face, giving a localized tenebrism.

          Representing a slightly different portrait is the highly complex group painting, Las Meninas (The Maids of Honor).¹⁰ Like the previous two paintings, the central focus is still of a royal, Infanta (Princess) Margarita, but in the frame is a collection of people including her maids-in-waiting, “her favorite dwarfs, a large dog”, most unusually the artist himself, and a massive canvas – perhaps the very one he was painting in the painting.¹¹ While he wasn't the first to place himself into the picture, artists tended to symbolically represent themselves in the portraits of others or sneak in, so to speak, some element of themselves. An example is Jan van Eyck's 1434 painting, Giovanni Arnolfini and His Wife, where he painted a concave mirror in the background over which he wrote in Latin, “Johannes de Eyrk fuit hic”, which literally translates to “Jan van Eyck was this”, although art historians translate it as “was here”.¹² 

There is a type of visual poetry that is better captured by the original Latin above the mirror, linking it to the nature of the artist. So too, Diego Velazquez stands in his own frame, looking out at the viewer, and perhaps looking back to the scene he himself is painting. The bluing of the conceptual lines between the artist, the scene and the viewer is apparent, and “art historians have yet to agree on any particular reading or interpretation” of the complex visual narrative.¹³

 

        An interesting shift occurs when the artist becomes the subject of the painting. Self-portraits, although not unheard of in previous ages, take on a new complexity during the period. Rembrandt's self-portrait makes use of a new lighting technique that places the light and dark in harmonious balance with each other, elevating the strong tenebristic contrast found even in his other works.¹⁴ Rembrandt looks out to the viewer, his head slightly turned to the side, and his hands holding an unidentifiable object.¹⁵ Behind him, a nondescript wall bears two circles that can partially be made out. The circles, in a fashion like van Eyrk's mirror, might be an intentional association between Rembrandt and the “legendary sign of artistic virtuosity—the ability to draw a perfect circle freehand”.¹⁶ The soft gradation of the shadows interact with the rough brushstrokes and dabs of paint from which his visage is formed. No part of him is crisp or cleanly represented. The level of self-expression he has achieved resembles the works of Impressionists of the 19^th century. The roughness in the painting is echoed in the utilitarian clothing he wears; as Louis was the center of the universe in paint, Rembrandt is the artist at work.

          Another artist that conceptually blurred the lines in self-portraiture was Artemisia Gentileschi. In Self-Portrait as the Allegory of Painting she depicts herself in mid-brushstroke carefully examining her out-of-frame subject, herself.¹⁷ Her right arm is extended holding her brush, and in her left rests her pallet. The arch between her two hands traces the compositional line which is enlivened by intense contrasts in lighting. Her fine clothing is closer to that of Charles I than they are to the work clothes of Rembrandt, complete with a thick gold chain around her neck and lace ruffles. Having followed the prescribed iconography of her day, in every element she shows herself to be the personification of “Painting herself”.¹⁸ Her identity, femininity, success, and “supreme skill in a field dominated by men” are represented in a way that formal iconography would not afford a man.¹⁹ Likewise, Judith Leyster's Self-Portrait captures her inner self-image, showing her exceptionally well-dressed for the task at hand (painting), and includes a painting within a painting.²⁰ Along with Rembrandt, these two women engaged in self-expression that, at the time was rarely possible in the art world. Upon their canvas there is no cross, saint, donor, or king to be found, but only them as they saw themselves (or as they wished to be seen).

          The final piece I will examine here is one that does turn back to donors as subjects, but in a novel way. Frans Hals' Archers of Saint Hadrian shows a group of men gathered around a table, wearing fine clothing, carrying weapons, flags, and books.²¹ Most of the men turn to look at the viewer, although some appear to be so lost in conversation that they fail to notice their portrait is being rendered. Stylistically, the piece is not particularly unique, although the deep space of the outdoor scene rendered in heavily contrasting highlights and shadows is still masterfully done. The telling aspect of this painting is that these men were not kings, or priests, or likely even particularly wealthy individuals. They were archers of a Dutch Republic civic militia that had gathered in their dress uniforms for a grand banquet.²² This painting is not of regal hubris, religious devotion, a monarch at rest, a personification, an association with art, or anything of the sort. It is a group of potentially low-born individuals gathered in camaraderie as an expression of patriotism. Not one of these men could have likely afforded the artist's sitting fee, but together they were able to commission a work that is still viewed today.

          In the 17^th century, paintings of kings vied for canvas with those of Christ. Also contenders for the artist's attention, self-portraits began to become a means for artists to express themselves, truly themselves, with no need of allusion in the backgrounds. The shifting political powers throughout Europe also provided space for an expression of the unique and new Zeitgeist of the Dutch Republic. All of these factors were drawing closer together, slowly liberating the artist from the traditional shackles that had been firmly enthroned in the art world since the first Roman artists started copying Greek bronze statues. Starting with the subject, artists were questioning and pushing the bounds of what art was, and what it could be. The self-portrait was the first step to true self expression.

Bibliography

Caravaggio. “Calling of Saint Matthew.” Oil on canvas, c. 1597-1601 (Contarelli chapel, San Luigi dei Francesi, Rome). In Gardner’s Art Through the Ages, 3^rd ed., by Fred Kleiner, Figure 10-10. Boston: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2013.

van Dyck, Anthony. “Charles I Dismounted.” Oil on canvas, c. 1635 (Musee du Louvre, Paris). In Gardner’s Art Through the Ages, 3^rd ed., by Fred Kleiner, Figure 10-19. Boston: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2013.

Gentileschi, Artemisia. “Self-Portrait as the Allegory of Painting.” Oil on canvas, c. 1638-1639 (Museo Archeologico Nazionale, Naples). In Gardner’s Art Through the Ages, 3^rd ed., by Fred Kleiner, Figure 10-12. Boston: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2013.

Hals, Frans. “Archers of Saint Hadrian.” Oil on canvas, c. 1633 (Frans Halsmuseum, Haarlem). In Gardner’s Art Through the Ages, 3^rd ed., by Fred Kleiner, Figure 10-20. Boston: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2013.

Kleiner, Fred. Gardner's Art Through the Ages, 3^rd ed. Boston: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2013.

Leyster, Judith. “Self-Portrait.” Oil on canvas, c. 1630 (National Gallery of Art, Washington D.C.). In Gardner’s Art Through the Ages, 3^rd ed., by Fred Kleiner, Figure 10-21. Boston: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2013.

Rigaud, Hyacinthe. “Louis XIV.” Oil on canvas, 1701 (Musee de Louvre, Paris). In Gardner’s Art Through the Ages, 3^rd ed., by Fred Kleiner, Figure 10-31. Boston: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2013.

van Rijn, Rembrandt. “Christ with the Sick around Him, Receiving the Children (Hundred-Guilder Print).” Etching, c. 1649 (Pierpont Morgan Library, New York). In Gardner’s Art Through the Ages, 3^rd ed., by Fred Kleiner, Figure 10-24. Boston: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2013.

– “Self-Portrait.” Oil on canvas, c. 1659-1660 (Kenwood House, London). In Gardner’s Art Through the Ages, 3^rd ed., by Fred Kleiner, Figure 10-23. Boston: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2013.

Velazquez, Diego. “Las Meninas (The Maids of Honor).” Oil on canvas, 1656 (Museo del Prado, Madrid). In Gardner’s Art Through the Ages, 3^rd ed., by Fred Kleiner, Figure 10-16. Boston: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2013.

de Zurbaran, Francisco. “Saint Serapion.” Oil on canvas, 1628 (Wadsworth Atheneum, Harford). In Gardner’s Art Through the Ages, 3^rd ed., by Fred Kleiner, Figure 10-14. Boston: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2013.

1 Hyacinthe Rigaud, “Louis XIV,” oil on canvas, 1701 (Musee de Louvre, Paris). In Gardner’s Art Through the Ages, 3^rd ed., by Fred Kleiner, Figure 10-31. (Boston: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2013), 318.

2 Fred Kleiner, Gardner's Art Through the Ages, 3^rd ed., (Boston: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2013), 318.

3 Ibid., 302.

4 Francisco de Zurbaran, “Saint Serapion,” oil on canvas, 1628 (Wadsworth Atheneum, Harford). In Gardner’s Art Through the Ages, 3^rd ed., by Fred Kleiner, Figure 10-14. (Boston: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2013), 304.

5 Rembrandt van Rijn, “Christ with the Sick around Him, Receiving the Children (Hundred-Guilder Print),” etching, c. 1649 (Pierpont Morgan Library, New York). In Gardner’s Art Through the Ages, 3^rd ed., by Fred Kleiner, Figure 10-24. (Boston: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2013), 312.

6 Caravaggio, “Calling of Saint Matthew,” oil on canvas, c. 1597-1601 (Contarelli chapel, San Luigi dei Francesi, Rome). In Gardner’s Art Through the Ages, 3^rd ed., by Fred Kleiner, Figure 10-10. (Boston: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2013), 301.

7 Kleiner, 318

8 Ibid., 308

9 Anthony van Dyck, “Charles I Dismounted,” oil on canvas, c. 1635 (Musee du Louvre, Paris). In Gardner’s Art Through the Ages, 3^rd ed., by Fred Kleiner, Figure 10-19. (Boston: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2013), 308.

10 Diego Velazquez, “Las Meninas (The Maids of Honor),” oil on canvas, 1656 (Museo del Prado, Madrid). In Gardner’s Art Through the Ages, 3^rd ed., by Fred Kleiner, Figure 10-16. (Boston: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2013), 305.

11 Kleiner, 305.

12 Ibid., 227.

13 Ibid., 305.

14 Ibid., 311.

15 Rembrandt van Rijn, “Self-Portrait,” oil on canvas, c. 1659-1660 (Kenwood House, London). In Gardner’s Art Through the Ages, 3^rd ed., by Fred Kleiner, Figure 10-23. (Boston: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2013), 311.

16 Fred Kleiner, Gardner's Art Through the Ages, 3^rd ed., (Boston: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2013), 311

17 Artemisia Gentileschi, “Self-Portrait as the Allegory of Painting,” oil on canvas, c. 1638-1639 (Museo Archeologico Nazionale, Naples). In Gardner’s Art Through the Ages, 3^rd ed., by Fred Kleiner, Figure 10-12. (Boston: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2013), 303.

18 Kleiner, 302. Emphasis in the original.

19 Ibid., 302.

20 Judith Leyster, “Self-Portrait,” oil on canvas, c. 1630 (National Gallery of Art, Washington D.C.). In Gardner’s Art Through the Ages, 3^rd ed., by Fred Kleiner, Figure 10-21. (Boston: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2013), 310.

21 Frans Hals, “Archers of Saint Hadrian,” oil on canvas, c. 1633 (Frans Halsmuseum, Haarlem). In Gardner’s Art Through the Ages, 3^rd ed., by Fred Kleiner, Figure 10-20. (Boston: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2013), 309.

22 Kleiner, 309.