A Clear View from Delft
A new book explores the work
of Vermeer, an enigma among 17th century Dutch artists
By ROBIN KNIGHT
The enduring
appeal of Johannes Vermeer-a new exhibition of his paintings
has proved a runaway success at the Metropolitan Museum in
New York City and transfers to London's National Gallery in
June-is based on an enigma. The master of precision, mood
and detail, Vermeer nevertheless avoided all that is discordant
and jarring-what Anthony Bailey, in his engrossing new book
A View of Delft (Chatto & Windus; 272 pages), terms "the messiness
of life."
What takes
Bailey's book beyond the narrow confines of art history is
his ability to see Vermeer in the context of life in mid-17th
century Holland. To survive, an artist needed wealthy patrons-and
the more the better. Vermeer had few benefactors, and he gained
no more than a quarter of his income from painting; most came
from his mother-in-law and his work as an art dealer. While
contemporaries like Rembrandt and Frans Hals specialized in
large canvases, lively down-to-earth realism and volume-40
or 50 paintings a year-Vermeer concentrated on interiors and
demure women, and managed only a couple of works annually:
small, frozen-in-time images with what Bailey calls, "the
reality of dreams."
The son
of an innkeeper, Vermeer was the father of 15 children, a
Roman Catholic-leaning Protestant and a home-towner who rarely
left Delft. But this is about all we know; no character descriptions
or other salient facts exist. In his short life -born in 1632,
died in 1675 of unknown causes although his wife, Catharina,
blamed "decay and decadence"-he was never particularly successful.
It was not until 1866, when a radical French critic named
Théophile Thoré wrote three articles about him, that the art
world beyond Holland took much notice.
What Thoré
recognized was the revolutionary in Vermeer-his emphasis on
a perfected state of life without external intrusions and
noise, his stress on form rather than function and his extraordinary
command of perspective. Thoré was writing at the dawn of photography,
which helped artists see in a new way. Vermeer had broken
the mold two centuries earlier.
Of course
today Vermeer is acknowledged as one of the leading artists
of the past 500 years. His influence extended to the Impressionists,
Marcel Proust-even crime. Many of his 35 works have been stolen
(one, The Concert, is still missing), and in the 1930s and
'40s a forger named Hans van Meegeren made millions of dollars
with at least six high-class fakes before being caught and
imprisoned.
The man
from Delft might have smiled at Van Meegeren's efforts. Few
of his own subjects were original, he was ruthless in his
pursuit of objectives, strove for perfection over volume and
borrowed ideas liberally. But there any comparison must end.
In a Vermeer painting serenity prevails and, as Bailey notes,
a viewer is taken into a room and invited to walk around and
talk to those present. It is this unique intimacy that ensured
Vermeer's reputation over time, and that continues to enthrall.
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May 7, 2001 | No. 18
COVER
STORIES
Haunted
by Vietnam
Former U.S. Senator Bob Kerrey confesses under pressure to killing more
than a dozen innocents in 1969. In his sadness, shame and decades-long
silence, fellow vets see themselves-and the rest of America confronts
war's wrenching ambiguity
TRAVELER'S
ADVISORY
SOUTH
PACIFIC
PAPUA NEW GUINEA: Murder in the Dark...
The still potent fear of sorcery is leading to vigilante killings
THE
ARTS
ART: Andrew Sayers reframes Australia's
view of itself...
THEATRE:
The RSC takes on Shakespeare's histories..
BOOKS: Inside the domestic interior of
Vermeer
MUSIC: Irish boy band Westlife goes transatlantic
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