Rembrandt van Rijn

by Malcolm Bell

Rembrandt's unfortunate lack of the sense of beauty is nowhere so glaringly made manifest as in the preposterous "Adam and Eve" (B. 28) of 1638; nor are the faces in an etching of that year, rejected, however, by Sir Seymour Haden, of the brothers listening to "Joseph relating His Dreams" (B. 37) much less absurd, though they are to a considerable extent atoned for by the dignified Jacob, the very human interest of Rachel, and the simple earnestness of Joseph himself. The "St Catherine," otherwise known as "The Little Jewish Bride" (B. 342), and a "Portrait of Himself with a Mezetin Cap and Feather" (B. 20), are the only others of the year. In the following year he achieved, with conspicuous success, the most ambitious etching he had yet attempted, the magnificent "Death of the Virgin" (B. 99), which, with the exception of the unfortunate angels hovering above, is admirable alike in conception and execution, attaining by straightforward simplicity the full pathos of the scene. The truthfulness and variety of attitude and expression, the wholly effective yet unforced arrangement of the composition, and the perfection of the chiaroscuro are beyond praise, and justify the somewhat bold assertion that beyond this the etcher's art cannot go. It is no matter for wonder, therefore, that this splendid plate seems to have absorbed most of the time he could devote to etching that year, for a little sketch of "A Jew in a High Cap" (B. 133), and the fine "Portrait of Himself leaning on a Stone Sill" (B. 21), alone share the date with it. His interest or his leisure would indeed appear to have been exhausted for some time, since only two small etchings, "The Beheading of St John the Baptist" (B. 92), and "An Old Man with a divided Fur Cap" (B. 265), are dated 1640.

A return of energy, however, marked 1641, from which year we have twelve dated plates; among them, the first three, to our certain knowledge, of a long series of landscapes, the elaborate study known as "Rembrandt's Mill" (B. 233), the beautiful "Cottage and Barn" (B. 225), and the "Landscape with a Cottage and Mill Sail" (B. 226). There are four subjects from scripture—a "Virgin and Child in the Clouds" (B. 61), "The Baptism of the Eunuch" (B. 98), one called "Jacob and Laban" (B. 118), and "The Angel departing from Tobit and his Family" (B. 43), in which his inability to perceive the absurd and undignified is once again demonstrated in the inflated petticoat and foreshortened legs which are all that is seen of the angel. A little night-effect, "The Schoolmaster" (B. 128), and the grand and very rare "Portrait of Anslo" (B. 271), are the most important of the remainder. With the exception of a "Bearded Man seated at a Table in an Arbour" (B. 257), the only etchings of 1642 were three sacred subjects, all small, and two of them, "The Raising of Lazarus" (B. 72) and "The Descent from the Cross" (B. 82), mere sketches. The finished plate represents "St Jerome" (B. 105), distinguished as being in Rembrandt's dark manner, seated reading at a table in a room lighted only by one window high up in front of him, so that the contrasts of light and shade are strong, and the effect very excellent.

REMBRANDT'S MILL (B. 233)
(1641)

1643 has only two signed etchings, but both are masterpieces of out-door work—"The Hog" (B. 157), and the justly-renowned "Three Trees" (B. 212). There is only one etching dated 1644, a landscape with figures, called "The Shepherd and his Family" (B. 220).

A superb combination of pure etching and dry-point dates from 1645—the "View of Omval, near Amsterdam" (B. 209), one of the most entirely satisfactory of the etchings, both for perfection of workmanship and beauty of effect. The transition from the loving care bestowed upon the splendid study of the gnarled and shattered willow-tree in front, through the more broadly yet quite adequately expressed foliage behind it on the left, to the slight yet all-sufficient treatment of the river and landscape beyond it on the right, shows a precise adaptation of the necessary means to the desired end, which, had no other line of Rembrandt's etching come down to us, would have been enough to stamp him as the finest known exponent of the art. A second landscape of that year is a study of a boat-house, known as "The Grotto" (B. 231); and a third, the one known as "Six's Bridge" (B. 208), a masterly little sketch from nature. As an example of the utmost expressiveness with the fewest necessary means, of a thorough grasp of the essentials and rejection of superfluities, and of a profound mastery of technical methods, this etching cannot easily be over-estimated. An outline sketch of the "Repose in Egypt" (B. 58), and a more highly finished "Abraham conversing with Isaac" just previous to the projected sacrifice (B. 34), are the only subject-etchings of that year, which is further remarkable for the absence of any portraits or studies of heads.

The next few years are singularly devoid of dated etchings. There are three from 1646—a small sketch of "An Old Beggar Woman" (B. 170); a subject known as "Ledikant" (B. 186), one of those frank improprieties to the perpetration of which Rembrandt, with the freedom of his time, more than once degraded his talents, from our modern point of view; and a direct study from the nude model, "A Man seated on the Ground" (B. 196). 1647 has only two, both highly-finished endeavours to realise a wholly pictorial effect—an endeavour which, however successful, is always to some extent a mis-application of the art, a deliberate sacrifice of its special advantages, in order to attain an object more easily and efficiently obtainable in other ways. Still, regarded as attempts to express the full tonality, there is much to admire and study in these two portraits of "Six" (B. 285), and "Ephraim Bonus" (B. 278), the Jewish physician, descending a staircase, with his right hand on the banister, as if pausing on his return from visiting a patient, a reversed reproduction of the picture in the Six collection already referred to.

BEGGARS AT THE DOOR OF A HOUSE. (B. 176)
(1648)

In 1648 he once more undertook a "Portrait of Himself" (B. 22), a very different presentment from the earlier ones, with their feathered caps and embroidered cloaks, their flowing locks and brushed up moustaches. Time and trouble have told upon him, and it is pathetic to contrast the proud elegance of the Rembrandt of 1639 (B. 21), his fine clothes, rich velvet cap flung carelessly on one side of his long curling hair, and his self-satisfied air, with this grave, soberly-clad, middle-aged man, in his plain, high, square-topped, broad-brimmed hat, and dark working blouse. His cavalier curls are cropped, his once airily upturned moustache trimmed short, the dainty tuft upon his chin is gone. He has grown stout, his throat hangs in puffy folds below his chin, his nose has coarsened, and he bears his two-and-forty years but badly; but if his face has aged, it has also strengthened, he has learned as well as suffered, and, if there is no longer in his eyes the look of undoubting self-approval, there is still the same keen, penetrating gaze of observation, and a wiser self-confidence born of trials and labours past and overcome. Among all the portraits of Rembrandt, real or supposed, there is none which makes one feel so strongly that here, indeed, one is face to face with him, as he saw himself when he sat drawing from the mirror in front of him.