Jan Lievens at the Milwaukee Art Museum
Through April 26, 2009
March 27, 2009. I cannot take credit for the catchy title of this post. I remember reading it in the office of the late Dr. Barry Wind, an esteemed scholar of Baroque painting at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee. The current exhibition at the Milwaukee Art Museum, Jan Lievens: A Dutch Master Rediscovered, does intend to do some fixing, however, of the reputation of Lievens in the historical scope of Dutch baroque art.
The Baroque (pronounced bah-ROKE) period roughly spans the 17th century, though dates can generally extend from about 1600-1750. If you want to talk about a definitive Baroque style, well…good luck. Summing up Baroque painting is rather like talking about chocolate. In some places, the dominant preference is for the bitter richness of high-percentage cacao but in other locales, the frothy delights of the milky variety are favored. But, they are all chocolate.
Baroque painting is a bit like that. The sense of the age is manifest in many different ways in different countries. The Italians are dominated by the genius of Bernini, the revived classicism of the Carracci, and the badass drama of Caravaggio, Mr. Rebel-on-the-Run. Not only was he notorious, but highly influential. His religious paintings with shadowy backgrounds and frankly unwashed figures mingling in the realm of the divine were revolutionary for artists and patrons alike. Caravaggio often set his figures in murky dark settings, and used brilliant highlights to create powerful visual dramatics and high emotion.
But this is not about Caravaggio. His painterly stylings made their way north to the Netherlands, and a group of artists known as the Utrecht Caravaggisti took after elements of the aforementioned Italian. The Dutch were exceptionally well-off during this period. They were raking in cash as merchants and traders, comfortable in their exceptional prosperity. Despite the wealth they enjoyed, there was a sense of restraint in their art and outlook – usually (paintings of tavern scenes can present a rather different perspective).
So this is the world in which the young Jan Lievens (1607-1674) entered as an artist. He was, by all accounts, a child prodigy with a paintbrush. Some of his early works are included in this exhibition, and they are some of the most exciting. Old Woman Reading (ca. 1621-1623) is a picture of intellectual intensity. It’s not certain who the sitter may have been; possibly his mother, maybe his grandmother, according to the admirably thorough scholarly catalog, and his Allegory of the Five Senses (ca. 1622) is a definite highlight.
Paintings by Jan Lievens
Top: Old Woman Reading, ca. 1621-23
Bottom: Allegory of the Five Senses, ca. 1622
The Allegory is a compressed composition of five men with an overtly buxom woman, and is a scene of visual indulgence. Accessories nestled in the complex array of arms, hands, bodies and fabric include a wine goblet, a pipe, a lute, and an overall jovial atmosphere. These accoutrements and the apparently complicit female companion represent the pleasures of the senses, the variety that smell, touch, taste, hearing, and seeing in the physical world has to offer. It’s an unapologetic celebration of all that is tangible – the physicality and sensuality of human existence. But, this is also reading it on a philosophical and intellectual level, in concert with similar scenes by other artists. Let us not forget that Lievens, born in 1607, has painted this picture as a teenager, perhaps catapulting himself as an artist into the sophisticated senses associated with worldly experiences. The painting is vivacious, bright, and an energetic display of fresh, raw talent and an unquenched zeal.
The central focus of the exhibition is taken up with Lievens peripatetic lifestyle, changing cities, changing countries, in efforts to further his career with more elite patrons. As an underlying theme, the person of Rembrandt van Rijn looms large. Rembrandt, of “The Night Watch” fame, was Lievens’s contemporary and the two certainly knew each other in their early years, competed for commissions, and were even written about together by patrons such as Constantijn Huygens. Art historically, works by Lievens have been ascribed to Rembrandt, a situation that current research is attempting to clear up.
This exhibition has an overarching sense of confidence, not only in the scholarship and revised theories of Lievens and his life, but in the very creation of his work. Lievens knew early on that he was a good painter, and showed it. His literary and Biblical scenes show a sense of monumentality in figures, but also a freedom and sense of spiritedness that is not quite as apparent in many of his portraits. His portraits are confident in their execution, and he represents his subjects in a manner befitting their station and demeanor; they’re serious, dignified, and just shy of imposing, even when the portrait is merely a costumed fantasy, such as the luminous Man in Oriental Costume (“Sultan Soliman”). Clothing and jewels and clothing are richly textured and luxurious, though still in keeping with the predominant sense of decorum. It’s fine to be rich and fancy, just don’t get too crazy (unless you’re the Flemish painter Peter Paul Rubens painting Marie de’Medici; if that’s the case, have at it – bring on the extravaganza of opulence…).
Jan Lievens, Man in Oriental Costume (“Sultan Soliman”), ca. 1629-1631.
In Lievens’s later works, there seem to be more painterly flourishes in the vibrancy of his brushwork. But still, a sense of deeply rooted confidence, as though Lievens could pick up tricks from anyone – Gerrit van Honthorst, Rembrandt, Anthony van Dyke – and deploy them from his artistic arsenal at will. He’s not adventurous in his subjects or execution, but handles things with a skillful assuredness. His self-portrait from the 1650s seems to speak of this. His half-length figure, every bit the gentleman in billowy exquisite gold satin, drapes his dematerialized body over a chair. Elegantly gaunt, he seems almost ethereal. It’s really a rather strange painting, the elongated distortions of his figure and proportions, and the sense of self-confidence presented to us in the light of the darkening skies in the distance.
Lievens died an impoverished man in 1674. Not only was his money gone, but time took his reputation as well. The paintings and story of Rembrandt came to epitomize Dutch art in the 17th century, eclipsing many others in the popular mind. This exhibition is a confident reassessment for this self-assured painter.
Jan Lievens, Self-Portrait, early 1650s
Reviewed by KM Murrell.
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