ACTA UNIVERSITATIS PALACKIANAE OLOMUCENSIS FACULTAS PHILOSOPHICA NEERLANDICA II – 2003

Horatian intertextuality in Poot’s poem “De Lente”

Rudi T. van der Paardt (University of Leyden)

Like his compatriots Virgil and Ovid, the Roman poet Q. Horatius Flaccus had an enormous influence on the history of Western literature. Especially his Odes, four books with poems in the tradition of the great Greek lyric poets, and his witty Epistula ad Pisones or Ars Poetica were often the models for imitation or adaptation. In several periods of Dutch literature we find poets, who have been strongly influenced by Horace. It is no coincidence that most of them were interested in poetical theory and that they were masters of poetic expression themselves. I mention the names of Joost van den Vondel (1587–1679), according to many readers the best Dutch poet ever; Willem Bilderdijk (1756–1831), the many-sided scholar and poet; and the most outstanding representative of the Dutch Romantic movement, Anthonie Staring (1767–1840). Only the first of them, Vondel, will play a role in my paper, and this is because in 1654 he made an important translation of all of Horace’s Odes. It was read by many contemporaries and remained popular with later readers. One of them, we know for sure, was Hubert Korneliszoon Poot (1689–1733), the Farmer-Poet. His admiration of Horace is obvious from his adaptation of the famous second epode, Beatus ille. In Akkerleven (Farmer-Life), published in 1720, Poot gave an impression of the contrasts between the life of a trader in the big city and the rustic life with cows and sheep on the farm, the sort of life he lived more or less himself. The opening of the Dutch poem: Hoe genoeglijk rolt het leven / Des gerusten Lantmans heen [How full of comfort is the life / Of a farmer and his wife] has become proverbial. In his small book Mijn vriend Horatius (My friend Horace) the classicist C. Ghislain pretends that he has a conversation with Horace himself about the qualities of Akkerleven (which he reads to him, curiously enough, in Dutch) and it turns out that Horace approves of this clever piece of work from his so much younger colleague. Ghislain then notes a typical difference between the two poets.1 Whereas Poot makes us believe that life in the countryside is the perfect bliss for mortal men, Horace puts the eulogy into the mouth of an old usurer, by the name of Alfius (it refers to the Greek word for gain), who does not possess a true predisposition for

1 C. Ghislain, Mijn vriend Horatius (My friend Horace), The Hague 1957, p. 40.

125 farming life and finally returns to his usual way of living.2 Thus, one thing is already clear: in his imitation of Horace (and also of other classical poets, such as Ovid) Poot takes the liberty to omit certain elements of his model. It is, however, not Poot’s Akkerleven that I want to discuss here, but another poem showing Horatian intertextuality: De Lente (The Spring), from Minnezangen, love- -poems in the tradition of Petrarch and the Dutch poet P. C. Hooft, which form part of his first volume of Mengeldichten, published in 1716. Specialists such as C. M. Geerars and Riet Schenkeveld have recognised that this text owes much to a Horatian ode. They both point out that in the beginning of De Lente, in the description of the flight of winter and the appearance of spring, Poot uses expressions which come from Odes 1.4. Poot did not know enough Latin to read the Latin text on his own and he consequently probably used Vondel’s translation, although it is not impossible that he read the Latin with the help of a friend who translated the text for him. The aim of my paper is to show that there are at least two other spring-odes which come into account as possible Horatian models for Poot’s poem, but that he did not use them in the same way. I will now give the Dutch text with my own prose-translation into English. I have tried to maintain some of the rhythm, but have had to give up the embracing rhyme and the archaic flavour of the 18th century language. Even native Dutch speakers need some commentary for the text. I use in my translation the explanatory notes given by Geerars in his edition of Minnezangen. De Lente Aen mejuffrouwen Katharina en Debora Blokhuizen. d’Ontdooide winter vlucht naer ’t noord op Jovis doemen. De boer verlaet den haert: het vee den muffen stal. Nu lagchen berg en dal En bosch en bron en vliet en beemt en gras en bloemen. 5 d’Alvoênde zomer, daer ’t geluk zich aen liet binden, Is ons door zoete gunst al weder toegedaen, En fladdert herwaert aen, Met loome vleugelen van laeuwe westewinden. Nu wort het eenmael tydt de stadt om ’t wout te ruimen, 10 Om ’t aengename wout, dat, vry en ongedeert, Zoo vrolyk quinkeleert, En orgels hooren laet, vergult met zachte pluimen. Wat dunkt u, Juffertjes, Blokhuizens eedle telgen, Wilt ge in zaligh velt den blyden voglezang 15 (Gezang behaegde u lang) Eens met uwe ooren zien en met uw geesten zwelgen? Wilt ge in den morgenstont eens blanke paerlen lezen

2 Typical for the Dutch reception of Beatus ille; see M. A. Schenkeveld-van der Dussen, Het dichterschap van Hubert Korneliszoon Poot (The poetry of Hubert Korneliszoon Poot), Assen 1968, p. 184.

126 Van nuchtre klaverblaên of scheemrigh lindegroen? Welaen. ai, koomt het doen! 20 Uw minlyk wezen zal by godtheên welkom wezen. Ja koomt: zoo leide ik u daer beek – en boomgodinnen Een’ groen fluweelen vloer bedansen, hant aen hant. Neen blyft; de minn[e]brant Wort buiten thans gestookt, daer al de dieren minnen. 25 Kupido school zich korts in lentgewas en rozen. Dies, vreest ge ’t Jongske nogh, zoo houdt u ongenoodt, Of plukt ’er groen noch root. Maer zacht, myn lier, gy doet vier schoone wangen blozen.

Spring To the young ladies Catherine and Deborah Blokhuizen Melted Winter flees to the North on Jupiter’s command. The farmer leaves the hearth, the cattle the musty stable. Now, mountain and valley laugh And wood, and fountain, river, meadow, grass & flowers too. 5 Nursing Summer, which was connected with happiness, Is already attached to us by sweet favour And flitters in our direction With slow wings of tepid Western winds. Now, it is time to exchange the city for the pleasant forest, 10 The forest that, free and unharmed, Carols so merrily, And plays the organ that is decorated with soft feathers. What do you think, noble shoots of Mr. Blokhuizen, Do you want to see with your ears the happy sound 15 (you were attached to warbling for a long time) Of birds in a blessed field and revel in their songs? Do you want to gather in morning-time the white pearls Of sober clover-leaf or dusky green of lindentree? Well, come and see 20 Your charming nature will be most welcome to the Gods. Yes, come: I’ll bring you there, where Naiads linking arms With Dryads dance on the green velvet floor. But no, stay. The Fire of Love Is burning outside now, where all what lives is set ablaze. 25 Cupid just hid himself in spring-crops and in roses. So, if you fear the boy, stay uninvited Or if you come, avoid the flowery green. But hush, my lyre, you cause the blushing of four handsome cheeks.

127 Even from a formal point of view, there are some resemblances between Horace Odes 1.4 and De Lente. Both the Roman and the Dutch poet use units of four lines, while their metre also shows the same sort of variation: Horace’s uneven lines are longer than his even ones, which have an iambic scheme; in Poot’s poem every third line is half as long as the other three: it has three instead of six iambic units. More significant, however, are the verbal parallels. I present the Latin text, with the recent English translation by David West (1995). solvitur acris hiems grata vice veris et Favoni trahuntque siccas machinae carinas, ac neque iam stabulis gaudet pecus aut arator igni nec prata canis albicant pruinis. iam Cytherea choros ducit Venus imminente luna, iunctaeque Nymphis Gratiae decentes alterno terram quatiunt pede, dum gravis Cyclopum Volcanus ardens visit officinas. nunc decet aut viridi nitidum caput impedire myrto aut flore, terrae quem ferunt solutae, nunc et in umbrosis Fauno decet immolare lucis, seu poscat agna sive malit haedo. pallida Mors aequo pulsat pede pauperum tabernas regumque turris, o beate Sesti, vitae summa brevis spem nos vetat inchoare longam; iam te premet nox fabulaeque Manes et domus exilis Plutonia; quo simul mearis, nec regna vini sortiere talis nec tenerum Lycidan mirabere, quo calet iuventus nunc omnis et mox virginis tepebunt.

Harsh winter is melting away in the welcome change to spring & zephyrs, Winches are pulling down dry-bottomed ships, The cattle no longer like the steading, the ploughman does not hug the fire And meadows are not white with hoar-frost. Venus of Cythera leads on the dance beneath a hanging moon, And the lovely Graces, linking arms with Nymphs, Shake the ground with alternate feet while burning Vulcan Visits the grim foundries of the Cyclopes. Now is the time to oil the hair and bind the head with green myrtle Or flowers born of the earth now freed from frost; Now too it is time to sacrifice to Faunus in shady groves Whether he asks a lamb or prefers a kid. Pale death kicks with impartial foot at the hovels of the poor And the towers of kings. O fortunate Sestius, The brief sum of life does not allow us to start on long hopes. You will soon be kept close by Night and the fabled shades

128 And Pluto’s meagre house. When you go there You will no longer cast lots to rule the wine Nor admire tender Lycidas whom all the young men Now burn for, and for whom the girls will soon be warm. Poot’s first words “d’Ontdooide winter” (“melted win- ter”) come directly from Horace, or in fact from Vondel’s translation; Vondel has “de felle winter ontdoit”, which is exactly what West made of the Latin Solvitur acris hiems: “Harsh winter is melting away”. The farmer and the cattle are derived, in chiastic order, from Horace’s third line. Poot’s poly- syndetic lines three and four are an elaborate expan- sion of the simple prata in Horace line four. (I would like to state that Poot’s mountain and valley are not exactly typical for the Dutch landscape. One only finds them in art and literature!) Horace’s Favonius returns in Poot’s line seven and eight, but in De Lente there is no reference to dry-bottomed ships: they would be strange in the context of Poot’s poeti- cal landscape. We have to wait for the sixth stanza before we can detect new allusions. It is the dance of Horatius. Relief in the Museum the Naiads and Dryads, linking their arms, which of Fine Arts in Boston recalls line six of Horace’s ode. For the linking of the dancing goddesses, Poot employs the expression “Hant aen hant”, which comes from Vondel’s translation of the iunctae Gratiae. The relation between the ending of both poems is rather ambivalent. In Ode 1.4 after twelve lines of description of spring we suddenly find death knocking at the door: line thirteen shows pallida Mors in her most aggressive form. But in his last lines Horace brings his friend Sestius, to whom this spring-ode is addressed, “back to the preoccupation of his daily life of pleasure”.3 Horace suggests that there may be connec- tions between Sestius and a certain Lycidas, a very attractive young man. Poot does not refer at all to death as an inevitable result of the permanent changing of the seasons, but in his last line, he too returns to his addressees, the Blokhuizen-sisters, mentioning them by name. But in De Lente there is no allusion, not even a hint, to erotics. On the contrary, having made some innocent jokes about Cupid, Poot pre- tends that he already went too far, and asks his topical lyre to be silent. It has all the marks of a studied contrast-imitation of the Latin model. There is another spring-ode by Horace, which has repeatedly been compared to Odes 1.4. It is Odes 4.7, written in the same metre, regarded by the famous Latinist and poet, Alfred Housman, as “the most perfect poem in the Latin language”. It is the only ode he translated himself: along with the Latin text, I will present his beautiful rendering.

3 L. P. Wilkinson, Horace and his lyric Poetry, Cambridge 1968, p. 40.

129 Diffugere nives, redeunt iam gramina campis arboribusque comae; Mutat terra uices et decrescentia ripas flumina praetereunt; 5 Gratia cum Nymphis geminisque sororibus audet ducere nuda choros. Immortalia ne speres monet annus et almum quae rapit hora diem. Frigora mitescunt Zephyris, uer proterit aestas 10 interitura, simul Pomifer autumnus fruges effuderit, et mox bruma recurrit iners. Damna tamen celeres reparant caelestia lunae: nos ubi decidimus 15 Quo pius Aeneas, quo Tullus diues et Ancus, puluis et umbra sumus. Quis scit an adiciant hodiernae crastina summae tempora di superi? Cuncta manus auidas fugient heredis, amico 20 quae dederis animo. Cum semel occideris et de te splendida Minos fecerit arbitria, Non, Torquate, genus, non te facundia, non te restituet pietas; 25 Infernis neque enim tenebris Diana pudicum liberat Hippolytum, Nec Lethaea ualet Theseus abrumpere caro uincula Pirithoo. The snows are fled away, leaves on the shaws And grasses in the mead renew their birth, The river to the river-bed withdraws, And altered is the fashion of the earth. 5 The Nymphs and Graces three put off their fear And unapparelled in the woodland play. The swift hour and the brief prime of the year Say to the soul, Thou wast not born for aye. Thaw fallows frost; hard on the heel of spring 10 Treads summer sure to die, for hard on hers Comes autumn, with his apples scattering; Then back to wintertide, when nothing stirs. But oh, whate’er the sky-led seasons mar, Moon upon moon rebuilds it with her beams; 15 Come we where Tullus and where Ancus are And good Aeneas, we are dust and dreams.

130 Torquatus, if the gods in heaven shall add The morrow to the day, what tongue hath told? Feast then thy heart, for what thy heart has had 20 The fingers of no heir will ever hold. When thou descendest once the shades among, The stern assize and equal judgment o’er Not thy long lineage nor thy golden tongue, No, nor thy righteousness, shall friend thee more. 25 Night holds Hippolytus the pure of stain, Diana steads him nothing, he must stay; And Theseus leaves Pirithous in the chain The love of comrades cannot take away. When we look again at Poot’s text, in the English translation (for practical reasons we have to leave Vondel’s translation out of account here), we see that the idea of the flight of winter could have come from Horace’s Diffugere nives, “the snows are fled away”. Poot’s fourth line, with his enumeration of elements in nature which come to life again shows some resemblance to Horace’s first stanza as a whole, especially to his gramina, campi, and flumina. Then, there is a strong parallel between lines five and six in this ode and the same ones in 1.4, so that it is hardly possible to decide from which of the two Poot has borrowed his “goddesses” dancing on the green-velvet floor. (These goddesses too are only visible in Dutch art and literature, one never observes them in reality, neither did Poot himself ever see them. By the way, the nudity theme, which occurs in Horace, had been eliminated not only by Poot, but also by Housman). Poot’s expression “D’alvoênde zomer” (line five) could have been borrowed from Horace’s almum…diem (lines seven and eight) in this ode. I have to confess, however, that Vondel’s rendering here is so different that we cannot be sure that this is a real reminiscence. The rest of the poem, beautiful as it is, does not seem relevant for our purposes: after his description of the beginning of spring, Horace deals with a favourite theme of his, human mortality. It was not to be expected that Poot in his nice and friendly invitation to the Blokhuizen sisters would end in such a moralizing note. However, in the same book of Odes there is a poem that also begins with a description of spring, which must have appealed to Poot. It is 4.12, addressed to Virgil, who according to many commentators was Horace’s colleague, P. Vergilius Maro, but according to many others, amongst whom Eduard Fraenkel, certainly not the poeta maximus.4 Most likely this is an early poem. In his commentary Kenneth Quinn surmises that Horace intended it to be recognised as such and that it was published after Virgil’s death to recall the easy intimacy that had existed between old friends.5 But whether Virgil was the famous poet or, for instance, an unknown unguentarius (perfume-seller) – a theory from the ancient commentators, because Virgil is associa-

4 E. Fraenkel, Horace, Oxford 1957, p. 418 n. 1, thinks that it is improbable that 4.12 is an early poem and the more that Horace should refer to studium lucri of his beloved friend. 5 Horace, The Odes, ed. Kenneth Quinn, London etc. 1980, p. 319.

131 ted here with perfume – the poem that Horace writes to him, is interesting for other reasons: for his combining, once again, the motifs of spring and death, for his choice of words and, as Fraenkel has it,6 for the lightness of the rhythm: as in so many other poems Horace uses here a choriambic metre. As an example of the verbal and musical qualities of the poem, I will quote the first stanza, with the prose-translation by Steele Commager:7 Iam veris comites, quae mare temperant, Inpellunt animae lintea Thraciae, Iam nec prata rigent nec fluvii strepunt hiberna nive turgidi. Already the Thracian breezes, the companions of spring, that calm the sea, are striking ships’ sails, and the meadows are no longer stiff with frost, nor do the rivers still roar, swollen with the winter snow. The outline of the poem is this: Winter is passing away, meadows are green again, we hear the rivers, we hear the sad sound of the swallow. The warmer weather suggests a drinking party. So, Virgil, come to my farm and drink with me: life is short, remember, and a little folly in its season is very pleasant. The strictly verbal parallels are scanty. There are, as is to be expected, prata (“meadows”), animae (“winds”), fluvii (“rivers”), and there is even the song of birds – not merry, as in Poot’s poem, but sad. What is striking, however, is the resemblance in the outline of both poems, which, by the way, have exactly the same number of lines. In both poems it is the arrival of spring, which inspires the invitation by the persona of the poet. In the case of Odes 4.12 it is an invitation to a friend to leave the city and come to a drinking-party; in De Lente it is an invitation to two girls to leave the city and have a walk or a ride through the woods, undoubtedly in the neighbourhood of Poot’s farm. My conclusion is that Poot in his poem De Lente does not simply use one specific Horatian ode as his model: he uses at least three odes for his purposes. He leaves out what he cannot use; he picks up words, metaphors and motifs from the two spring- odes 1.4 and 4.7 and makes some deliberate contrasts with the Latin texts. He also uses the outline of a third spring-ode (Odes 4.12) as a whole. From all this traditional material he makes something quite new: a Dutch poem that is very pleasant to recite in these dark days of autumn.

6 E. Fraenkel, Horace, Oxford 1957, p. 418. 7 Steele Commager, The Odes of Horace, London etc. 1962, p. 275.

132 ACTA UNIVERSITATIS PALACKIANAE OLOMUCENSIS FACULTAS PHILOSOPHICA NEERLANDICA II – 2003

Understanding Carel van Mander’s “Schilder-boeck” Better by Processing its Text Electronically. An Example1

Ruben Pellar (Society Ne-Be, Prague)

1 Introduction

If one intends to understand older Netherlandish art, in particular the painting of the 14th–17th centuries, one must also study texts that are relevant to this period. One of the texts is of course the Schilder-boeck by Carel van Mander, the principal work describing the beginning of Netherlandish painting. In Prague libraries, for instance in the National Library (Národní knihovna) and in the Library of the Museum of Applied Art (Knihovna Uměleckoprůmyslového muzea), the works of Carel van Mander are available in both the original editions as well as in later reprints. In order to understand Mander’s text one must also possess among other things, a good dictionary of modern Dutch, for instance, the newest edition of the main Dutch dictionary Van Dale. Groot woordenboek der Nederlandse taal (see literature no. 8). In addition, a dictionary of Middle Dutch in paper or electronic form is necessary (see literature nos. 9 and 2), and of course some translations into foreign languages, such as the German translation by Hans Floerke, Carel van Mander – Het Leven der Door- luchtighe Nederlandsche en Hooghduytsche Schilders. Das Leben der niederländischen und deutschen Maler. Textabdruck nach der Ausgabe von 1617. (see literature no. 4) or in modern Dutch (see literature no. 5), along with with commented reprints (lit. no. 4). In addition, other works devoted to the description of the Dutch language in the 17th century (lit. no. 10) and other special studies on history, art and so on should be available in one’s reading room. Another fine tool, which can assist in making it possible for the scholar to under- stand Mander’s book better, is an electronic form of the work itself. The electronic text can be analysed and thus understood much more deeply and quickly than the paper form. The electronic version of the Schilder-boeck has a number of advantages, as well as certain disadvantages in comparison with the printed form. It can be stored in a minimum of space, read on the screen, edited, printed, sent by e-mail, but on the other hand can also be easily erased and stolen, needs an electrically powered compu-

1 This article gives a shortened and slightly altered version of a lecture given at the conference Emble- matica et Iconographia held in December 2000 in Olomouc.

133 ter, can be placed on the Internet and infected by viruses. These advantages and disadvantages are of course generally known, and electronically published texts appear in mass. The electronic version can be further useful for: 1. preparation of a reprint of the work; 2. translation of the text into another language, for instance the translation into Czech; 3. an analysis superior to a manual analysis of the work from the point of view of literature and history, linguistics, theory of culture etc.; 4. be the first item amongst a greater set of texts (a corpus) with a similar, or on the contrary, different theme, age, author(s) or other criteria; 5. and any other useful thing you can come up with.

As the electronic form still does not exist (at least not for the Czech reader), I have decided to create it myself. In my paper I want to describe the way I went about it and to give some examples of its use.

2 Creating the electronic form of the “Schilder-boeck”

I have made use of the still very valuable edition by Hanns Floerke from 1906 (see literature no. 4), available in the National Library in Prague, which has the advantage that it can be lent outside the Library. I proceeded to make a loose paper copy of the work on a copying machine. I then scanned the text – only Mander’s text, not Floerke’s translation into the German and his commentary – with the help of electronic scan- ning and optical recognition software Recognita 4.0, made by the company Recognita and a simple flat bed scanner (a Hewlett Packard product). The result of the scanning, of course, is not perfect and had to be corrected manually. To make this painstaking task easier, I made use of the spelling corrector of Corel Word Perfect (Version 9) which makes it possible to create a so-called “user word list”, the items of it being the strings of the text being corrected. When the strings of the text are added to the user list step by step, the corrector is able to recognize and indicate the strings that have not been added to the list yet and one can decide, whether the strings are right or wrong and correct and add them to the list if needed. To be honest, I was able to scan the complete text, but the correction of the text is not finished yet. For this reason, I will use for my explication, and as an example, only the first ten pages only (the title-page, the Voor-reden and the Dedication or Widmung, as Floerke calls it, thus the first and second part of the chapter of the Schilder-boeck).

134 3 Further processing of the loaded electronic text

3.1 Layout and alphanumerical indication of the text units

3.1.1 Layout

Various layouts are basically possible: 1. a layout preserving the original form of the paper copy (with an exact correspon- dence of line length, pages, hyphenation, font size, bold, italic, letter spacing etc., thus in fact an electronic reprint or replica; 2. a layout that does not respect the paper form fully or 3. a mixed form.

I have chosen a mixed layout preserving the original division of the book into pages, but otherwise did not preserve the original layout with its graphical means as font or (varying) letter spacing, bold or italic, or the position of the text. The electronic text is in fact plain, whereas the alphanumerical indication of the text is at the left side and the text is indented by a left indentation. In addition, the hyphenation of the paper edition has not been respected. The units of the text are separated by one or two free lines (sentences and clauses) or start on a new page (“chapters”).

3.1.2 The Numbering of the “chapters”

Under “chapters” I understand the logical parts of the book larger than para- graphs. Thus not only actual chapters, but also the title page, foreword etc. The chapters are numbered by a sequence of natural numbers which are followed by an alphabetical abbreviation indicating the part of the book, for instance Tit (= Title- -page), Wid (Widmung), Voor (Voor-Reden op ’t Leven der Nederlandtsche en Hoogh- duytsche vermaerde Schilders), Eyck (Het leven van Jan en Huybrecht van Eyck, gebroeders, en Schilders van Maseyck) etc. This indication is placed as a header on the left side of the page above. After this abbreviation, the possible full title of the “chapter” follows.

3.1.3 The numbering of pages

The pages of the text have been indicated by natural numbers corresponding with the paging in Floerke’s edition, thus beginning with 2 (the title page), going on with 10, 12 and ending with the last page of Mander’s text. The page numbers are placed at the top in the centre of the page, and are preceded by the word “Floerke”. There is also a secondary pagination with a natural number placed at the bottom centre ascending from 1 to n (thus 1, 2, 3 …. n).

135 3.1.4 The numbering of paragraphs

As Floerke’s edition is not, with some exceptions, divided into paragraphs, the paragraphs are not numbered.

3.1.5 The numbering of clauses and sentences

Clauses (sentences) are numbered by a sequence of natural numbers from 1 to n, using the automatic numbering of WordPerfect 9.

3.1.6 The numbering of lines

Lines are numbered on each page by a sequence of natural numbers from 1 to n, using the automatic numbering of WordPerfect 9. The result can be seen in Appendix 1 – An example of the page layout.

3.1.7 The numbering of further units

Even smaller units of the text can also be numbered, such as words or even signs, and of course bigger or smaller parts than the pages of the physical medium (paper) the text is written on (for instance “volumes”), further figures, notes, remarks. This explanation, however, will not take this into consideration.

3.2 Help Files

After scanning the text, correcting and numbering it, various help files can be created, basically: 1 Sentence file(s) 2 String file(s) 3 Word form file(s) 3.1 Retrograde word form file(s) 3.2 Representative word form file (lemma file or dictionary) 4 Various other lists, for instance a list of nouns, verbs, or terminological lists etc. 5 Various indices, for instance an index of proper names, of course a list, of notes, a table of contents and a table of authorities, etc. 6 etc.

3.2.1 Sentence file(s)

A sentence file or clause file can be created, numbered and arranged for instance alphabetically. With its help one can study the syntactic structures, their length, composition and category.

136 3.2.2 String file(s)

A string is defined as a sequence of characters separated by a space. A string must be distinguished from a word form, as the orthography in the Schilder-boeck is not uniform and “correct” as the word units are sometimes divided and joined differently from present usage. I made this list using the computer aided translation system Transit 2.7 sold by the company STAR GmbH, a Swiss and German company and translation agency. This system has the function “Create Terminology” which is able to create an alphabetically arranged list of all word forms from the text automatically. The result is shown in Appendix 2 – Example of a string file based on pages 2-20 of the Schilder-boeck. One can observe that not all the forms are “correct”, as the text does not join divided word units in the same way as one would today. At times there is a division or joining, where we would make a connection or on the other hand divide what is understood today as two words (for instance 00256 tgheruchtighe, joining together the article t and the adjective gheruchtighe). Let us first, however, presuppose that the words or strings are grammatically correct forms of the Middle Dutch. Then one can for instance create a retrograde dictionary, for instance for the sake of a study of the morphology of Mander’s text. (See Appendix 3 – Example of and retrograde word form file.) In addition, one can describe these forms grammatically, define their meanings or translate them for instance into another language (for instance into modern Dutch, Czech etc.) In this way, one can create a dictionary. In Appendix 4, you can see an example of a dictionary containing words which are in some way interesting, where some 7 categories are applied, that is: 0 lemma, i. e. the representative form of the word; 1 a string, as it appears in the text; 2 the grammatical description of the string, definition, remarks; 3 the source of 2; 4 the relevant meaning of 0 in Middle Dutch and in the text itself; 5 (non) occurrence in Verdam’s Middelnederlandsch Woordenboek; 6 the place, where it appears, in the text (as the dictionary is an electronic version of an old paper card file, the location of the string is still based on the paper edition of the Schilder-boeck (Floerke) and is defined as “distance from the upper edge of the relevant page”; 7 the context.

Electronic tools for better comprehension of Mander’s text can also of course have a paper form which could be made manually. Creating them and working with them, however, would be much more tedious and involve much more time. In my paper, I have given some examples of such – simple – electronic tools. They do offer the possibility to understand a text better, but at the end of my paper, I would like to stress, that they are not a panacea. Even as computer-linguists or computer-scientists,

137 we must bow to older scholars (last but not least to Mander himself) who were not in possession of any electronic tools such as computers, files, databases and the Internet. They made use of only their pen, paper, failing memories and hearts devoted to their task of creating works of lasting and unrivalled value which are a testimony to their deep understanding of the matter and ingenuity.

Literature

1. Josef ČERMÁK, Komputační lexikografie. In: Renata Blatná et al: Manuál lexikografie. Prague 1995, pp. 50–71. 2. Cd-rom Middelnederlands. The Hague, Sdu Uitgevers. (without year of publishing) 3. Het Woordenboek der Nederlandsche Taal op cd-rom. Rotterdam, AND ElectronicPublishing. (without the year of publication) 4. Hans FLOERKE (ed.), Carel van Mander. Het Leven der Doorluchtighe Nederlandsche en Hooghduytsche Schilders. Das Leben der niederländischen und deutschen Maler. Textabdruck nach der Ausgabe von 1617. Bd. I–II. Munich & Leipzig 1906. 5. F. MIRANDE & G. S. OVERDIEP, Carel van Mander, Het Schilder-boek. Het Leven der Doorluchtighe Nederlandsche en Hooghduytsche Schilders. In hedendaagsch Nederlandsch overgebracht. Amsterdam & Antwerp 19504. 6. Recognita Plus 4.0 for Windows 95 and Windows NT 4.0. User s Guide. Recognita Corporation 1998. 74 p. 7. STAR Translation Technology. Transit. Version 2.7. (Software of Star AG, Ramsen 1999). 8. G. GEERTS & H. HEESTERMANS (red.), Van Dale. Groot woordenboek der Nederlandse taal. Utrecht & Antwerp 199212. 9. Eelko VERWIJS & Jakobus VERDAM, Middelnederlandsch Woordenboek. The Hague 1885–1929. 10. A. WEIJNEN, Zeventiende eeuwse taal. Zutphen (without the year of publication)

138 Appendix I

139 Appendix II

140 Appendix III

141 Appendix IV

EXAMPLE OF VOCABULARY BASED UPON THE “SCHILDERBOECK”

1 advijs 2 znw. 4 mnl. advijs, avijs znw. o. 1) zienswijze, meening, gedachte, denkwijze 2) raad, beraad; Floerke: d. Devise (ve významu heslo, devíza) 5 Verdam ve významu “heslo životní”, “deviza” 0 6 LNHS str. 248 mm 165

1 advijs-woort 2 znw. 4 mnl. advijs znw. o. 1) zienswijze, meening, gedachte, denkwijze 2) raad, beraad 6 LNHS 2 bl. 24 mm 135 7 Sijn Advijs-woort, devise oft spreuck, was een aerdighe Anagramma op zijnen Naem

1 Aechte 2 znw. eigennaam vr. 5 Verdam 0 6 LNHS str. 348 mm 95 7 In de Kerck van S. Aechte Floerke: In der St. Agathenkirche

1 Aechtgen 2 znw. eigenn. vr. 4 Floerke: Agathe 6 LNHS bl. 146 mm 65

1 aelmoessen 2 znw. 4 mnl. aelmoesene znw. eig. barmhartigheid, medelijden a. doen goede werken doen; ook: almoezen geven; bewijsde a. eene aan iemand toegewezen gave 6 LNHS bl. 76 mm 80

1 aen 2 voorz. 4 mnl. aen voorz. met den 3 den en 4 den nv. Het woord drukt in het algemeen de betrekking tussen eene werking en eene zelfstandigheid uit, van wier oppervlakte een gedeelte word aangeraakt, of op eene werking is gericht. I: van plaats 5) Ter aanduiding dat eene werking op een persoon of zaak gericht is 6 LNHS str. 10 mm 65 7 Aen Eerweerde achtbare Heeren

142 Appendix V

EXAMPLE OF A TRANSLATION OF THE “SCHILDERBOECK” INTO CZECH

Úvod

Mander Karel (nebo Carel) van (mandr kárel fan), (květen 1548 – 11. 9. 1606), niz. malíř manýrismu, spisovatel a překladatel. Psal divadelní hry, básně a písně. Hlavním dílem je Het schilder-boeck (Malířská kniha) z roku 1904, obsahující mimo jiné Het leven der doorluchtige Nederlandsche en Hoogduitsche schilders (Životopisy slavných nizozemských a hornoněmeckých malířů). je to základní pramen pro poznání nizo- zemského malířství počínaje bratry van Eycky a konče Manderovými současníky a současně významný památník nizozemské renesanční prózy. Manderův Schilder- -boeck byl přeložen do francouzštiny, němčiny a ruštiny, snad i do jiných jazyků. Manderův Schilder-boeck jsem začal překládat do češtiny roku 1977 a překlad (který není ještě definitivní verzí) dokončil asi roku 1986. Překlad jsem neúspěšně nabídl nakladatelství Odeon. Překládal jsem podle nizozemsko-německého vydání Floerkova z roku 1906. Používal jsem přitom Verdamův středonizozemský slovník a francouzský překlad díla ve výběru R. Genailla (Hermann, Paris 1965). Jako ukázku překladu uvádím věnování, předmluvu a první kapitolu líčící životopis Jana a Huberta van Eycka. Ukázka neusiluje o naprostou věrnost originálu, text zkracuji a zjednodušuji, aby byl čtivější. Verše uvedené v kapitole o bratrech Eycko- vých překládám prózou. Neuvádím také poznámky, kterých je jinak k porozumění Manderově textu zapotřebí. Stylistické řešení ukázky vzniklo ve spolupráci s mojí ženou Vlastou Krautmanovou.

143 ŽIVOTOPISY SLAVNÝCH NIZOZEMSKÝCH A HORNONĚMECKÝCH MALÍŘŮ

Ctihodným a váženým pánům, mým dobrým přátelům, Janu Mathijszu Banovi a Cornelisi Gerritszu Vlasmanovi, vzájemným dvojnásob milým švagrům, milovníkům malířského umění v Haarlemu. Známý výrok, který vkládá básník Vergilius do úst svému zamilovanému pěvci Korydo- novi, že každý je unášen svou rozkoší, se potvrzuje dnes a denně a není o tom třeba vést spory; shledáváme totiž, že záliba a sklon každého člověka jsou přitahovány nejen věcmi potřebnými k životu, ale i příjemnými – odpovídajícími jeho duchu a povaze. Jasní a pronikaví duchové nacházejí potěšení v krásných a velkolepých věcech, které jakoby převyšovala přírodu. Jsou to především vynikající umělecká díla, která si prohlížejí s obdivem a zalíbením, porovnávají je a hodnotí, ctí je a milují. Vážení pánové a moji dobří přátelé, domnívám se, že toto je důvod, proč i vy, spojení stejnou povahou a duchem, i tím, že jste si oba vzali za manželku sestru toho druhého, jste svorně nakloněni a příznivi dokonalosti, výsostnému půvabu a kráse malířského umění. Shromažujete chvalná a nádherná díla z nejdovednějších rukou, ochotně a laskavě je ukazujete významným zahraničním hostům, dalším cizincům a jiným milovníkům umění, a také jim vlídně poskytujete umění své, totiž napodobeného Bakcha nebo dokonce samotného boha. Již vaši počestní předkové provo- zovali od nepaměti toto užitečné umění, které vzešlo od udatného válečníka a prvního sládka Bakcha, zvaného též Dionýsos, a rozšířilo se mezi národy i tam, kde se vinná réva nedařila. A stejně jako egyptský král Bakchus vytvořil občanské zákony a naučil lidi obchodu, tak byli rodiče vás obou, vážení pánové, starosty a konšely ve slavném městě Haarlemu a provozovali s vlastními loděmi vlastní obchod. Nadto jste vy, ctihodný pane Jane Matthyzsi nejen našeho umění pouhým milovníkem, nýbrž i dovedným zlatníkem a stříbrníkem, který dlouho pobýval ve slavném městě Římě a byl věrným a kratochvilným druhem na cestách našemu Goltziovi. A proto, vážení pánové, tyto své životopisy slavných nizozemských malířů zasvěcuji vám oběma. Vždy jste hodni daru ještě tisíckrát většího. Upřímně vás prosím, abyste na můj dar, který chce být důkazem mé vroucí oddanosti k vám, pohlédli přívětivě a přijali jej s díkem. Kéž Nejvyšší sešle na vás oba, vážení pánové, prospěch, dobro a blaženost. V Amsterodamu 28. července 1604. Váš oddaný služebník a přítel Karel van Mander.

Předmluva k životopisům slavných nizozemských a hornoněmeckých malířů

Lze do jisté míry doufat, že v příštích staletích lidé nezapomenou a nepřestanou si vyprávět slavné příběhy vynikajících malířů. Jména, životopisy a díla proslulých mistrů našeho umění však jistě zůstanou v obecném povědomí potomků trvaleji a pevněji, a také s větší úplností a spolehlivostí, jestliže je pečlivě zapíšeme a tím navždy zachováme svěží před očima a zabráníme tomu, aby je neúprosně postupující čas vhodil lopatou stáří do jámy zapomnění a zasypal. Přesto se však budou možná někteří, ba dokonce mnozí divit, proč takovou knihu píši a proč vynakládám tolik píle a námahy na téma, které snad nebo dozajista někdo považuje za příliš nízké či nevýznamné, domnívá se totiž, že za zazna-

144 menání stály nebo stojí jenom hrdinské činy slavných válečníků. Podle nich si spíš než naši ušlechtilí, dovední a svět zkrášlující duchové starší i nové doby zaslouží zachovat pro pamě budoucích pokolení Marius, Sulla, Catilina a podobní ukrutní lidožrouti. Těžko by mne však kdo přesvědčil, že by tohle bylo k něčemu dobré. Je rovněž dost jiných, kteří svou učenost a píli věnují líčení tragédií odehrávajících se na našem krví zbroceném nizozem- ském jevišti. K tomu bych se já nehodil, zaprvé z nedostatku zkušeností, zadruhé pro strázně a nebezpečí, kterými hrozí svárlivá zuřivost, hledící na člověka úkosem. Kdybych se do takové věci pustil, zasloužil bych také, aby mne zatahal za ucho Kyn an a aby mi při tom řekl: nepřísluší ti a není tvou věcí psát o hrdinech, o lítých bojích plných výbuchů střelného prachu, nýbrž o tazích štětcem a o obrazech. Proto jsem se mnohem raději pustil do knihy o malířích a doufám, že tuto moji dobrovolnou práci nikdo nepřijme s nevděkem. Vzpomínám si, že toto téma, totiž životopisy slavných malířů, začal již dříve zpracovávat ve verších můj mistr Lukas d’Heere van Gent. Jeho dílo se však ztratilo a nelze očekávat, že se najde, což by pro mne byla bývala přinejmenším velká pomoc. Takhle jsem totiž musel řadu údajů získávat velice namáhavě. Je pravda, že mi co se týče italských malířů v mnohém pomohly* spisy Vasariho, který velmi obšírně pojednává o svých krajanech. Vasari měl velkou výhodu v tom, že se mohl opírat o moc a vážnost osvíceného vévody florentského. Pokud se však týče našich slavných nizozemských malířů, věnoval jsem vskutku maximální úsilí, abych shromáždil a seřadil jejich životopisy podle časové chro- nologie. Zde se mi dostalo menší pomoci, než by bylo bývalo odpovídalo mé velké snaze a horoucímu přání. Shledal jsem, že jen velmi málo lidí má pro něco takového pochopení a že se sotva najde někdo, kdo by byl ochoten sdílet mé velké a ohnivé zanícení: protože srdce těch lidí jsou obrácena k jiným, utilitárním věcem, totiž k tomu, jak si naplnit kuchyň. Následkem toho jsem nemohl zjistit a shromáždit data narození, úmrtí, geo- grafické a další údaje, na kterých podle mého názoru velmi záleží, má-li vzniknout hodnotné dílo. Získat tyto informace je také často těžké, ba nemožné – vždy zeptáte-li se někoho, nedovede vám často zodpovědět, ani kdy se narodil a zemřel jeho vlastní otec, protože tam, kde byl opomenut písemný záznam, paměti neporučíš. Když to nejde jinak, píšu tedy alespoň jako Varro a Plinius: ten a ten žil v tom a tom roce nebo jeho díla spadají většinou do té a té doby, nebo do doby panování toho a toho císaře, vévody nebo hraběte, podobně jako jmenovaní antičtí autoři uvádějí olympiádu, ve které umělec žil či ve které jeho díla vznikla. Čtenář však pozná, že jsem se snažil odstranit i takovéto mezery. Začnu dvěma slavnými bratry z Maaseycku, Hubertem a Janem, kteří záhy dosáhli v našem umění podivuhodné dokonalosti a velice krásně používali barev a ani v kresbě nebyli nikterak neobratní. Je až ku podivu, že této skvělosti a dokonalosti dosáhli v tak rané době, z níž nejsou pod vím v Německu Horním ani Dolním známi ani zmiňováni žádní jiní starší malíři. Dále podle svých možností pojednám o ušlechtilých provozovatelích a zdokonalitelích malířského umění až do současnosti. Jestliže však některé neuvedu, nech mi to nikdo nemá za zlé a nepodezírá mne ze schválnosti či zlobné zášti. Ujiš uji naopak, že se tak stalo jen a jen pro mou nedostatečnou znalost – nebo bych nerad někoho z umělců opominul, a už se jejich těla rozpadla v prach, či a se ještě hýbou, tvoří a udivují svět svým nadáním, které mají od Všemohoucího. Nech mi nikdo nemá za zlé, že nakonec píši i o žijících mistrech. To je totiž možné s větší zevrubností, obšírností, spolehlivostí a pravdivostí než v případě mistrů, kteří žili před řadou let, upadli takřka

145 v zapomnění a o nichž bychom měli rádi podrobnější informace. Dělali to tak hojně i jiní, a význační spisovatelé, jako např. Vasari, který ve svých knihách a životopisech vypodobnil lidu Michelangela a řadu dalších umělců ještě za jejich života a proslavil jejich jména tak, že se zaskvěla široko daleko. Proto uctivě prosím nikoli o hanu, nýbrž o dík. Žijte blaze.

Životopis bratří Jana a Huberta van Eyck, malířů z Maaseycku

Skvělou ozdobou našeho spanilého Nizozemí je řada vynikajících mužů, kteří svou vlast proslavili v minulosti i v současnosti svými chvályhodnými a ctnostnými činy i svou učeností. Pomiňme nyní vavříny a válečnou kořist, které si svou udatností ve zbrani široko daleko vydobyla naše stará šlechta, přejděme též slávu, za niž vděčíme Fénixovi učenosti – otci starobylé řeči Latia – Desideru Erasmu Rotterdamskému který se na zářivých křídlech vysoko vznesl z nAší voňavé zahrady. Nebo nejvyšší poctu nám milostivá nebesa udělila SKRZE laskavý zásah přírody v malířském umění: to, co nebylo dopřáno nalézt důvtip- ným Řekům, Římanům ani jiným národům, jakkoli se to snažili, objevil kempenský Nizozemec narozený v Maaseycku na nádherné řece Maase, jež díky této poctě může svým věhlasem soupeřit s Arnem, Pádem a hrdým Tiberem. Vždy na jeho břehu se rozzářilo světlo tak jasné, že při pohledu na ně uměnímilovná Itálie užasla a poslala sem své malířství, aby z prsou Flander načerpalo novou sílu. Jan van Eyck vynikal nadáním i rozumem od mládí. Protože přirozeně tíhl k malířství, stal se žákem svého značně staršího bratra Huberta. A to byl umělec velmi dovedný, přestože asi neučený, protože není známo, u koho získal svou průpravu. Zdá se však, že tehdy v té rané době, tam v tom drsném a opuštěném koutu země bylo málo malířů i dobrých obrazů, ze kterých by si byl mohl vzít příklad. Podle našeho odhadu se totiž Hubert narodil již kolem roku 1366 a Jan o několik let později. Ale a už je tomu jakkoli, včetně dohadů, zda byl malířem i jejich otec – malířským nadáním překypovalA tenkrát zřejmě celá jejich rodina. Nebo i jejich sestra Margareta van Eyck, která jako moudrá Minerva, střežící se Hymena a Luciny, zůstala do konce svého života pannou, proslula jako velká malířka. Umění malovat vaječnou a klihovou barvou přišlo k nám do Nizozemí zřejmě z Itálie, jelikož tohoto způsobu bylo poprvé použito ve Florencii Anno 1250, jak jsme o tom pověděli v životopise Giovanna Cimabue. Bratři Jan a Hubert takto vytvořili vaječnou a klihovou barvou mnoho děl, protože kromě fresky, která se používala v Itálii, nebyly tehdy známy už žádné jiné malířské techniky. Poněvadž umění rádo sídlí tam, kde bohatství, nebo mu zde kyne naděje na hojnou odměnu – a Bruggy ve Flandřích díky čilému obchodování různých národů bohatstvím oplývaly více než kterékoli jiné město v celém Nizozemí – přestěhoval se Jan právě sem, kde byla velká spousta různých obchodníků. Zde namaloval na dřevě klihovou a vaječnou barvou množství obrazů a svým velkým uměním se nadmíru proslavil i v jiných zemích, kam byla jeho díla přinesena. Také to prý byl muž učený a moudrý, velice vynalézavý v různých oborech umění. Prozkoumal mnoho druhů barev, zabývaje se za tímto účelem alchymií a destilováním. Jeho úsilí bylo korunováno vynálezem laku složeného z několika olejů, kterým překrýval své vaječné a klihové barvy. Lidem se to velice líbilo, nebo obrazy získaly potom krásný svítivý lesk. Marně se mnozí Italové pokoušeli odhalit jeho tajemství. Co se však nestalo: jednou namaloval Jan desku, na kterou vynaložil mnoho času, píle a námahy – prováděl totiž svá díla velice jemně a čistě. Hotový obraz

146 nalakoval svým novým lakem a postavil uschnout na slunce. Bu však nebyly díly desky dobře spojeny a sklíženy nebo byl sluneční žár příliš silný – obraz se rozklížil a popukal ve spojích. Jana velmi rozmrzelo, že mu slunce práci tak zkazilo, a umínil si, že příště už si takovou škodu způsobit nenechá. Na vaječnou barvu překrytou lakem zanevřel a pustil se do pokusů a výzkumů, jak vyrobit lak, který by vyschnul v domě beze slunce. Po pečlivém průzkumu velkého množství olejů a dalších přírodních látek přišel na to, že nejlépe schne lněný a ořechový olej. Když je pak ještě vařil s některými dalšími přísadami, získal ten nejlepší lak na světě. A poněvadž takovéto činorodé a pracovité povahy neustanou v hledání, dokud nedosáhnou dokonalosti, přišel Jan po mnoha pokusech na to, že barva smíšená s těmito oleji se dá velice dobře mísit, rychle schne, po zaschnutí je tvrdá a odolává dobře vodě a že oleje dodávají barvám mnohem výraznější živost a přirozený lesk i bez lakování. Jeho radostné překvapení ještě vzrostlo, když poznal, že barva roz- dělaná olejem se také lépe roztírá a zpracovává než barva s vajíčkem nebo klihem, a že se s ní nemusejí dělat čárky jako při malbě temperou. Tento objev Jana potěšil právem, nebo znamenal zrození nového druhu malířských děl, nad nimiž užasli mnozí i v dalekých zemích, kam se Fáma s touto zprávou rychle rozlétla – takže se přicházeli podívat lidé až z kraje Kyklopů a od věčně planoucí hory Etny, jak ještě dále povíme. Nebo takový ušlechtilý znamenitý vynález dosud našemu umění chyběl, aby se svým vzhledem přiblížilo přírodě. Kdyby náhle ožili staří Řekové Apellés a Zeuxis a další a přišli sem, jistě by nebyli méně překvapeni než bojovný Achilles a jiní váleční rekové starověku, kdyby te v bitvě slyšeli hrozivě dunící dělo, vynalezené Anno 1354 dánským mnichem, alchymistou Berthol- dem Schwartzem, nebo staří spisovatelé nad nadmíru užitečným uměním knihtisku, jímž se pyšní město Haarlem, kde jej prokazatelně objevili jako první. Vasari nebo jeho tiskař se mýlí, když vynález olejové barvy datuje o sto let později. Já jej na základě svých zjištění a propočtů zařazuji do roku 1410. Mám pro to několik důkazů a vím rovněž, že se Jan nedožil tak vysokého věku, jak Vasari udává, i když zase nezemřel tak mladý, jak soudí jeden spisovatel. Ale bume struční. Nový vynález bratři přísně tajili. Vytvořili mnoho krásných děl společně i každý samostatně, Jan se však přes své mládí stal větším umělcem než Hubert. Jejich nejvýznamnějším a nejskvělejším dílem je deska v kostele svatého Jana v Gentu. Objednal si ji u nich 31. hrabě flanderský, Filip z Charolais, syn vévody z Dijonu (hrabě Filip z Charolais panoval Anno 1420), jehož jezdecký portér je také k vidění za jednom z křídel oltáře. Někteří se domnívají, že původně začal desku malovat Hubert, ale že ji dokončil Jan: podle mého názoru ji však začali malovat společně a Hubert přitom roku 1426 zemřel. Nebo byl také v Gentu v onom kostele pohřben. Jeho náhrobní nápis uvádíme dále. Prostřední deska díla znázorňuje Klanění starců Beránkovi ze Zjevení Svatého Jana. Je tam mnoho postav provedených jako vůbec celé dílo s velkou pečlivostí. Nad touto deskou je obraz Marie korunované Otcem a Synem. Kristus drží v ruce kříž, namalovaný jako průsvitný křiš ál, osázený zlatými knoflíky a jinými ozdobami a dra- hokamy. Podle úsudku mnohých malířů by jen provedení tohoto žezla či kříže zabralo měsíc práce. Postavu Marie obklopují andělé zpívající z not, provedení tak zdařile, že z jejich výrazu a postojů lehce poznáme, kdo z nich zpívá diskant, contre tenor, tenor a bas. Na pravém křídle nahoře jsou namalováni Adam a Eva. Na Adamovi je vidět jakoby úlek před porušením příkazu, zdá se, že se děsí když mu ta, jež se před chvílí stala jeho nevěstou, nabízí nikoliv jablko, jak se malíři obyčejně malují, nýbrž čerstvý fík. To svědčí o Janově

147 hlubším vzdělání, nebo jak soudí Augustinus a někteří další učenci, dala Eva svému muži patrně fík. Mojžíš totiž výslovně neříká, o jaký plod se jedná a Adam s Evou se poté, co zhřešili a poznali, že jsou nazí, nepřikryli listy jabloňovými nýbrž fíkovými. Na druhém křídle oltáře je myslím svatá Cecílie. Dále má vnitřní deska dvě křídla – dvojité dveře, na jejichž obou oddílech nejbližších střední části jsou vyobrazeny postavy, které podle mého názoru souvisejí s výjevem uprostřed. Na dalších křídlech jsou namalováni kromě již zmíněného hraběte Flanderského na koni také malíři Hubert a Jan. Vzhledem ke svému věku jede Hubert po pravici svého bratra a ve srovnání s ním se zdá mnohem starší. Na hlavě má zvláštní čapku s ohrnutým okrajem vpředu z drahocenné kožešiny. Janovu hlavu zdobí čepice se splývavými cípy vzadu, připomínající turban. Na černém plášti má červený růženec s medailí. Kresba, pohyby, duchaplnost, vynalézavost, čistota a jemnost provedení díla jsou vynikající a vzhledem k rané době jeho vzniku úžasné. Záhyby látek jsou skládány velmi podobně jako u Albrecht Dürera a modř, červeň a purpur nehasnou, ale jsou všechny tak krásné, jako by byly právě naneseny. V tomto ohledu se dílu nevyrovná žádný obraz. Dovedený malíř si dal záležet, chtěje patrně svým výtvorem usvědčit z nepravdivosti slavného spisovatele Plinia – ten totiž píše, že malíři ve stu nebo i menším počtu obličejů vždy nebo obvykle udělají několik navzájem si podobných, protože nejsou schopni vyrovnat se přírodě, kde mezi tisícem tváří stěží najdeme dvě zcela stejné. Na obraze je však kolem tři sta třiceti hlav se vším všudy, aniž se jediná podobá druhé. V obličejích vidíme různý výraz: božskou velebnost, lásku a nábožné zanícení. Pozoruhod- ná je tvář Marie, jejíž ústa jako by vyslovovala slova z knihy, kterou čte. V krajině je mnoho zvláštních cizokrajných stromů, byliny a travička na zemi jsou provedeny neobyčejně půvabně a jemně. Vlasy a vousy postav a žíně koňských ohonů a hřív by se skoro daly spočítat a jsou namalovány tak tence a pěkně, že to všechny umělce plní úžasem, jako je vůbec udivuje a ohromuje celé dílo. Však je také s potěšením shlédlo mnoho velkých knížat, císařů a králů. Velice si je přál mít král Filip, pětatřicátý hrabě flanderský. Protože však nechtěl město Gent o tento poklad oloupit, dal ho okopírovat Michaelu Coxciemu, malíři z Mechelen, jenž ho napodobil vynikajícím způsobem. V Nizozemí však nebylo možno seznat takovou krásnou modř, a tak ji na přání krále poslal z Benátek Tizian. Byl to azur, prý přírodní, nacházející se v jistých maarských horách. Dokud zemi neobsadili Turci, bylo jej možno získat snadněji: te však jenom ona troška potřebná na pláš Marie stála plných dvaatřicet dukátů. Coxcie některé věci upravil podle sebe, jako například svatou Cecílii, která sedí trochu nepěkně zády k divákovi. Kopii poslali do Španělska. Originál stál na podstavci, na kterém bylo dříve vymalováno klinou nebo vaječnou barvou peklo. Pekelníci byli vyobrazeni, jak klečí ve svém podzemním příbytku před jménem Ježíšovým neboli Beránkem. Jednou však podstavec čistili a omývali nějací nešikové a obraz pekla setřeli a zničili. Oba bratři jsou vymalováni ve společnosti hraběte Filipa, vévody burgundského. Hrabě jim byl velice nakloněn a vážil si jich, zvláště Jana, který prý byl pro skvělost svého umění a pro své vynikající duševní schopnosti hraběcím tajným radou. Hrabě ho měl vždy rád ve své společnosti, podobně jako si velký Alexander oblíbil Apella. Ten skvělý výtvor ukazovali jen osobám vysoce postaveným nebo tomu, kdo dal klíčníkovi pěkné spropitné. Veřejnosti jen vyjímečně o velkých svátcích. Býval tam pak takový nával, že se k obrazu člověk jen ztěží dostal, protože kaple, kde dílo vystavovali, byla po celý den plna rozličného lidu. Jako se v létě včely a mouchy vábené sladkou š ávou

148 slétají na koše s fíky a hrozny, tak se tam kolem něho tísnili malíři mladí i staří a všichni milovníci umění. V oné kapli, nesoucí jméno Adama a Evy, v kostele Sv. Jana, visela naproti obrazu oslavná báseň čili óda od gentského malíře Lukase d’Heere, kterou bych zde rád uvedl. Trochu jsem ji však pozměnil a převedl do alexandrínů.

Toto je oslavná báseň na obraz v kapli Sv. Jana, na malby, které vytvořil mistr Jan, narozený v Maaseycku, právem nazývaný vlámský Apellés. Báseň si pozorně přeč ete, dobře pochopte smysl a pak pohlédněte na dílo!

Óda Poj te sem milovníci umění všech národů. Pohle te na toto dílo daidalského vzmachu, poklad a vznešenou zástavu, vedle níž Croesovo bohatství nestojí za povšimnutí – vždy je to pro drahé Flandry dar nebes. Přistupte pravím, přitom vychutnejte všechny půvaby díla a dobře je oceňte. Před vámi se otevře kypící oceán umění, v němž se všechno snaží předvést ve své nejkrásnější podobě, aby si vysloužilo chválu. Podívejte se na Boha Otce, všimněte si Janovy tváře a Mariina něžně sladkého obličeje. Její ústa jakoby vroucně opakovala slova z knihy, kterou čte. A jak skvěle je namalována koruna a všechny ozdoby! Hle te: zděšený Adam vypadá jako živý. Už jste někdy viděli lepší zobrazení tělesnosti? Jakoby odmítal a zdráhal se přijmout lahodný fík, který mu půvabně nabízí Eva. Pohled na sličné anděly – sladké nymfy nebes – naplní každého radostí. Vidíme jejich tváře, když libě pějí podle not. Jasně rozeznáme jednotlivé hlasy, protože oko i ústa každého to zřetelně prozrazují. Nemá však smysl vychvalovat každou věc zvláš, protože všechno jsou to překrásné a vybrané skvosty: všechno vypadá jako živé, jen jen vystoupit z obrazu. To nejsou pouhé obrazy, ale zrcadla, přímo zrcadla. Jaká ctihodnost a důstojnost vyzařuje ze hodnostářů a z celého průvodu čistého duchovního stavu. A rovněž se, ó malíři, mimo jiné podívejte, jak pěkně už v té době dovedli malovat látky! Také se potěšte pohledem na tváře panen. Z jejich ctnosti by si naše dnešní děvy mohly vzít příklad. Všimněte si, jak hrdě a majestátně každý jede: král, kníže i hrabě se společností pánů. Malíř, kterého vidíme, mezi nimi pobývá právem. Byl sice mladší, avšak lepší a dílo dokončil. Na černém šatě má rudý růženec. Jeho starší bratr Hubert jede o kousek výš. On dílo započal svým vlastním stylem, jeho záměr však překazila ničitelka všeho – smrt. Leží zde pochován nedalo své sestry, rovněž skvělé malířky. Ó pozorujte na obraze také rozmanitost obličejů. Je tu přes 300 tváří, a ani jedna z toho velkého množství se nepodobá druhé. A co dál je na něm ještě hodno chvály? To, že žádná z jeho krásných barev stářím nebledne, ale vydržely už téměř 200 let. S tím se setkáváme již jen zřídka. Umělec si vpravdě zasloužil slávu velkého malíře a skutečného mistra – byl štědře obdařen všemi čtyřmi vlastnostmi, které má malíř mít: trpělivost, pamětí, rozumem a nadáním. Důkazem jeho trpělivé mírné mysli je pečlivost provedení. Pamě

149 a jasný úsudek mu pomohly zkomponovat jeho obrazy vždy s vkusem, půvabem, uměřeností a uměním. Díky svému nadání dovedl dobře vystihnout smysl příběhů, které maloval. Jeho sláva nech se šíří tím spíš, že kvetl v místě a v době, kdy mohl potěšit svůj zrak a vzít si příklad pouze z vlastních obrazů. O tom, že Jan van Eyck vynalezl olejovou barvu, víme bezpečně ze zprávy jednoho Itala. Zmiňuje se o třech jeho krásných obrazech ve Florencii, Urbinu a Neapoli. Slyšeli jste, že by se už kde jinde stal zázrak, aby počátky umění byly tak krásné a dokonalé? Kdo byl učitelem těchto dvou malířů z Maaseycku, nelze říci, nikde jsme o tom nenašli zprávu. Jana měl za jeho života v zasloužené oblibě vznešený hrabě Filip, jeho milostivý pán, který mu byl nakloněn, důvěřoval mu a vážil si ho jako skvělé ozdoby Ni- zozemí. Janova díla si přáli mít ve všech zemích, proto u nás máme kromě tohoto obrazu již jenom jeden v Bruggách a pak ještě jeden v Ypern, ten však není dokončen. Ušlechtilý květ, který vzešel v tak nevýznamném městě v Maaseycku tento svět zase brzy opustil. Malířovo tělo odpočívá v Bruggách, kde zemřel, avšak jeho jméno a sláva budou žít věčně. Náš hrabě, král Filip, milující všechno dobré umění, si díla cenil tak vysoko, že je dal kopírovat a obětoval na to dobrých čtyři tisíce guldenů, nebo skoro tolik. Kopii zhotovil zde v této kapli slavný Michael Coxcie. Práce mu trvala skoro dvě léta. Vymaloval všechno od prvního do posledního jako dovedný mistr dbalý své cti. Dále uvádím, že kopie je nyní ve Španělsku, ve Valladolidu, kde slouží jako důkaz řečené lásky našeho krále a šíří čest a slávu jsem Jan van Eyck a Coxcie. Kéž vás škoda poučí.

Když Jan obraz v Gentu dokončil, odešel zase zpět do Brugg, kde zůstává také jeden obraz jako skvělá památka na jeho zkušenou dovednou ruku. Mnoho jeho dalších děl rozvezli obchodníci do dalekých zemí. Všude nad nimi umělci žasli a soužili se chvályhod- nou závistí, totiž touhou Jana napodobit. Na podstatu nového způsobu malby však nemohli přijít. A tak přesto, že několik Janových podivuhodných výtvarů získala některá knížata, zůstalo umění olejomalby i nadále ve Flandřích. Vévoda z Urbina, Federigo II. měl ve Florencii z Janovy ruky velice jemně a pečlivě provedený obraz lázně. Lorenzo de Medici měl ve Florencii jeho Sv. Jeronýma a mnoho dalších výborných věcí. Jedno Janovo překrásné dílo poslali nějací florentští obchodníci z Flander do Neapole králi Alfonsovi I. Na obraze bylo mnoho skvěle provedených figur a král byl nad ním u vytržení. Stejně jako jinde, i sem proudili ve velkém počtu malíři, aby toto podivuhodné dílo shlédli. Ale přestože je Italové důkladně prohlíželi a všemožně zkoumali a když k němu přičichli, cítili silnou vůni oleje přimíšeného do barev, zůstalo jim toto tajemství přesto skryto. Do Itálie přinesl vytoužené umění olejomalby teprve jakýsi Antonello z města Messiny na Sicilíi, který se tomuto umění naučil v Bruggách ve Flandřích. Píšeme o tom v jeho životopise. V Ypern, v proboštském kostele Sv. Martina byl jeden Janův obraz Marie, před kterou klečí modlící se opat. Obraz měl nedokončená křídla. Každé z nich se skládalo ze dvou polí, na nichž byly vymalovány věci související s Marií, jako hořící růžový keř, Gedeonovo rouno

150 atp. Dílo se zdálo spíše nebeské než pozemské. Jan vytvořil také mnoho portrétů podle přírody. Všechny prováděl s velkou pílí a trpělivostí. Jako pozadí mnohdy maloval jemné a krásné krajiny. Již samotné jeho podmalby byly mnohem čistší a výraznější než u jiných mistrů hotová díla. Vzpomínám si, že jsem od něho viděl malou podobiznu ženy s krajinou v pozadí, provedenou jenom v podmalbě, ale přesto neobyčejně jemnou a hladkou. Byla v domě mého mistra Lukase d’Heere v Gentu. Jan provedl olejovými barvami i další obrázek – portrét muže a ženy, kteří si podávají pravice na znamení uzavření manželského svazku. Oddává je Fides, jež je spojila. Tento obrázek byl myslím později objeven v Bruggách ve vlastnictví jednoho lazebníka. Obraz spatřila urozená paní Marie, teta Filipa, krále španělského, vdova po králi Ludvíku Uherském, který padl v boji proti Turkům. Uměnímilovné kněžně se dílo zalíbilo tak, že za ně udělila lazebníkovi úřad vynášející ročně sto zlatých. Z Janovy ruky jsem dále viděl různé kresby velmi působivě a čistě provedené. Jan zemřel ve vysokém věku v Bruggách kde byl pohřben v kostele Sv. Donatia. Na jednom sloupu tam můžeme číst jeho náhrobní nápis v latinských verších: Hic jacet eximia clarus virtute Joannes In quo picturae gratia mira fuit; Spirantes formas et humum florentibus herbis Pinxit, et ad vivum quodlibet egit opus; Quippe illi Phidias et cedere debet Apelles; Arte illi inferior ac Policletus erat. Crudeles igitur, crudele dicite Parcas Quae talem nobis eripuere virum. Actum sit lacrymis incommutabile factum, Vivat ut in coelis jam deprecare Deum. Hrob staršího bratra jen, jak jsem již uvedl, v Gentu v kostele Sv. Jana. V bílém náhrobním kameni zapuštěném do zdi je vytesána Smrt držící před sebou měděnou desku s tímto veršovaným náhrobním nápisem ve staré vlámštině:

Vy, kteří po mně šlapete, poznejte ve mně sami sebe. Byl jsem jako vy, te , jak vidíte, tu leží dole pohřbené mé mrtvé tělo. Nepomohla mi ani rada, ani umění, ani lék. Umění, moudrost, moc ani bohatství nejsou k ničemu, když přijde smrt. Jmenoval jsem se Hubert van Eyck. Te mě žerou červi, i když jsem byl známý a vysoce vážený malíř: záhy jsem se z něčeho proměnil v nic. Osmnáctého září léta Páně 1426 jsem v bolestech odevzdal duši Bohu. Proste ho vy, kdož milujete umění, abych směl přestoupit před jeho tvář, vystříhejte se hříchu, obrate se k dobrému, protože nakonec mne musíte následovat.

Je tomu nějaký čas, co byly v Antverpách vydány mědirytiny s podobiznami starých nizozemských malířů. Jako první podobizny těchto dvou slavných bratří – nejstarších dovedných zástupců ušlechtilého malířského umění v Nizozemí. Pod rytinami jsou umné latinské básně vysoce učeného básníka Dominica Lampsonia z Brugg, sekretáře lutyšského biskupa. Lampsonius byl nejen velký milovník našeho umění, ale také se v něm velmi

151 dobře vyznal a sám je i provozoval. Ony básně ke chvále těchto dvou znamenitých mužů jsem se rozhodl zde uvést v naší mateřštině.

Malíři Hubertovi van Eyck Ó Huberte a jeho bratře, ústa naší bohyně zpěvu tě právě zahrnula zaslouženými chválami. Jestliže ti nestačí, připoj k nim ještě ty, které ti získal díky tvé pomoci tvůj učedník a bratr. Opravňuje k nim dílo v Gentu, které si král Filip zamiloval tak, že je dal kopírovat. Kopii provedl svou dovednou rukou malíř Coxcie a král si ji nechal poslal domů do své španělské vlasti. Slova vložená do úst Janu van Eyckovi: Já, který jsem první objevil, že přimíšením lněného oleje se barva rozzáří, společně se svým bratrem Hubertem jsme ohromili Bruggy tímto novým vynálezem, na který Apellés patrně nepřišel. Brzy poté jsme se přestali vzpírat tomu, aby se zvěst o naší dovednosti roznesla široko do světa.

152 Interchanging Painting and Literature

153 154 ACTA UNIVERSITATIS PALACKIANAE OLOMUCENSIS FACULTAS PHILOSOPHICA NEERLANDICA II – 2003

‘Omnia sponte fluant’: Comenius, His “Pedagogical” Impresa, Rembrandt’s ‘Landscape with Three Trees’, and the Issue of Meaning and Interpretation in Dutch Art of the Seventeenth Century1

Lubomír Konečný (Academy of Sciences, Prague)

At least since the seminal studies which Eddy de Jongh published in the 1960s,2 emblematics seems to have prevailed among the instruments art historians have employed to interpret the images created by Dutch artists of the Golden Age.3 However, after the initial period of enthusiasm it brought about, the method of ‘emblematic’ interpretation has come to be considered in a more critical vein.4 This

1 This article has been largely based on a paper read at the Third International Emblem Conference in Pittsburgh in August 1993, and then published in Emblematica: An Interdisciplinary Journal for Emblem Studies 10 (1996), pp. 283–305. A Czech translation of the latter can be found in my forthcom- ing book Mezi textem a obrazem: Miscellanea z historie emblematiky (Between text and picture. Miscella- nea from the history of emblematics; Prague, Národní knihovna). 2 From among E. de Jongh’s numerous early writings I list here only the most influential ones: [with P. J. Vinken], Frans Hals als voortzetter van een emblematische traditie. Bij het huwelijksportret van Isaac Massa en Beatrix van der Laen, Oud Holland 76 (1961), pp. 117–52; Zinne- en minnebeelden in de schilderkunst van de zeventiende eeuw (Amsterdam, 1967); Erotica in vogelsperspectief: De dubbelzinnigheid van een reeks zeventiende-eeuwse genrevoorstellingen, Simiolus 3 (1968-69), pp. 22–74; ‘Réalisme et réalisme apparent dans la peinture hollandaise du 17e siècle,’ in Rembrandt et son temps, exh. cat. Europalia, Brussels 1971, pp. 143–194; ‘Inleiding,’ in Tot Lering en Vermaak: Betekenissen van Hollandse genrevoor- stellingen uit de zeventiende eeuw, exh. cat. Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam 1976, pp. 14–28 (also in German: ‘Einleitung,’ in Die Sprache der Bilder: Realität und Bedeutung in der niederländischen Malerei des 17. Jahrhunderts, exh. cat. Herzog Anton Ulrich-Museum, Brunswick 1978), pp. 11–19. The ‘Erotica’ and ‘Inleiding’ articles were recently reprinted in de Jongh’s Kwesties van betekenis: Thema en motief in de Nederlandse schilderkunst van de zeventiende eeuw (Leyden, 1995 – also in English), pp. 21–58 and 83–103. 3 In addition to the bibliography given in note 1 above, for more examples of this interpretative strategy see, for instance, W. Franits, The Relationship between Emblems and Dutch Paintings of the Seventeenth Century, Marsyas 22 (1983), pp. 25–32; L. F. Bauer, Seventeenth-Century Naturalism and the Emblematic Interpretation of Paintings, Emblematica: An Interdisciplinary Journal for Emblem Studies 3 (1988), pp. 209–222. 4 For a notably sceptical voice, see P. Hecht, The debate on symbol and meaning in Dutch seventeenth-century art: an appeal to common sense, Simiolus 16 (1986), pp. 173–187; idem, Dutch seventeenth-century genre painting: a reassessment of some current hypotheses, Simiolus 21 (1992), pp. 85–95. Since the debate over the validity of various methods of interpretation of Dutch seventeenth-century art represents a vast subject with an extremely rich bibliography, for further orientation and more bibliographical references see De Jongh 1995 (as in n. 1), pp. 9–19: ‘Opinies en bezwaren’; and W. Franits, ‘Introduction’, in Looking at Seventeenth-Century Dutch Art: Realism Reconsidered, ed. WF (Cambridge, 1997), pp. 1–7, as well as other essays in the same volume.

155 paper starts by presenting a case study of a specific ‘emblem’ motif used by two important representatives of 17th-century (Dutch) culture, and finishes by offering a few comments on the relationship between art history, the history of literature, and emblem studies. Jan Amos Komenský, or Comenius (1592–1670), the great Czech thinker and educationalist, has been referred to quite often in recent literature on emblematics. While several scholars have discussed the pedagogic value Comenius had attributed to emblems – an issue that will be addressed later in this article – others have tried to identify the emblem sources which he had made use of in his writings.5 To the best of my knowledge, it was the English scholar Rosemary Freeman who, in 1948, was the first to suggest that Comenius’ Orbis Sensualium Pictus “is closely allied” to emblem books.6 In Freeman’s view, this landmark in the history of education, originally

5 For Comenius’ relationship to emblems and emblematics, see L. Forster, Comenius und die Emblematik: ein Hinweis, Zeitschrift für slavische Philologie 29 (1961), pp. 247–250 (rpt. in Daphnis, 1. Beiheft [1977], pp. 285–288); D. Tschižewskij, Neue Lesefrüchte, 21: Emblematik bei Comenius, Zeitschrift für slavische Philologie 30 (1962), pp. 57–58 (reprint in Daphnis, Kleinere Schriften, II: Bohemica [Munich 1972], pp. 212–215); idem, Emblematische Literatur bei den Slaven, Archiv für das Studium der neueren Sprachen und Literaturen 116 [201] (1965), pp. 175–184, esp. pp. 181f. (rpt. in Emblem und Emblematikrezeption: Vergleichende Studien zur Wirkungsgeschichte vom 16. bis 20. Jahrhundert, ed. S. Penkert [Darmstadt 1978], pp. 149f.); F. Maurer, Abraham a Sancta Claras “Huy! und Pfuy! Der Welt”: Eine Studie zur Geschichte des moral-pädagogischen Bilderbuches im Barock (Heidelberg 1968), pp. 81–86; W. Harms, ‘Wörter, Sachen und emblematische ‘res’ im ‘Orbis sensualium pictus’ des Comenius,’ in: ed. D. Hoff- mann, Gedenkschrift für William Foerste, Cologne and Vienna, 1970, pp. 531–542; I. Leis-Schindler, ‘Ding, Sprache, Anschauung und Bild im ‘Orbis pictus’ des Johann Amos Comenius,’ in: eds. Ch. Rittelmeyer and E. Wiersing, Bild und Bildung: Ikonologische Interpretationen vormoderner Dokumente von Erziehung und Bildung, Wiesbaden 1991, pp. 215–36; L. Konečný, Jan Amos Komenský a Andrea Alciati aneb na stopě jednoho ‚omylu’ (Jan Amos Comenius ad Andrea Akciati or tracing a ‘failure’), Miscellanea Oddělení rukopisů a starých tisků (Národní knihovna ČR) 11 (1994), pp. 174–179. Brief references can be found in K. Schaller, Die Pädagogik des Johann Amos Comenius und die Anfänge des pädagogischen Realismus im 17. Jahrhundert, Heidelberg 1962, p. 322; J. Pelc, Obraz-słowo- znak: Studium o emblematach w literaturze staropolskiej (Picture-word-sign: A study on emblems in old Polish literature), Wrocław 1973, p. 190; M. Součková, Baroque in Bohemia, Ann Arbor 1980, pp. 79–81, 85, 91; P. Buchwald-Pelcowa, Emblematy w drukach polskich i Polski dotyczacych XVI–XVIII: Bibliografia (Emblems in Polish prints and concerning Poland XVI-XVIII: A bibliography). Wrocław 1981, p. 12, note 11; J.-C. Klamt, ‘Burgkmairs Bauernturnier und die frühen Bundschuh-Bewegungen: Ein Deu- tungsversuch,’ in: ed. E. Ullmann, Von der Macht der Bilder: Beiträge des C. I. H. A.-Kolloquiums “Kunst und Reformation”, Leipzig 1983, pp. 158-173, esp. pp. 170f., note 37; K. Závadová-Jančová, Emblém v knižnej grafike na Slovensku (The emblem in book graphic in Slovakia), Ars 1983, no. 2, pp. 75–87, esp. p. 81; K. Weiss, in Studia Comeniana et Historica 19:38 (1989), pp. 253–254; R. Cavell, ‘Representing Writing: The Emblem as (Hiero)Glyph,’ in: eds. B. F. Scholz, M. Bath and D. Weston, The European Emblem: Selected Papers from the Glasgow Conference, 11–14 August, 1987, Leyden 1990, pp. 167–185, esp. p. 170; C. Nordenfalk, ‘The Sense of Touch,’ in: eds. K.-L. Selig and E. Sears, The Verbal and the Visual: Essays in Honor of William Sebastian Heckscher, New York 1990, pp. 109–132, esp. pp. 110 and 122, fig. 2; R. Augustin, ‘Die Sinnlichkeit der Embleme: Die fünf Sinne im Sinnbild,’ in: Sinnbild- Bildsinn: Emblembücher der Stadtbibliothek Trier, exh. cat., Trier 1991, pp. 141–150, esp. pp. 149–150; L. Konečný, in: ed. S. Ferino-Pagden, Immagini del sentire: I cinque sensi nell’arte, exh. cat. Cremona, Milan 1996, pp. 84–85, no. II.3; A. Schorsch, ‘Emblematic and Allegorical Images of Body and Soul,’ in: eds. P. M. Daly and D. S. Russell, Emblematic Perceptions: Essays in Honor of William S. Heckscher on the Occasion of His Ninetieth Birthday, Baden-Baden 1997, pp. 159–188, esp. pp. 167–168. 6 R. Freeman, English Emblem Books, London 1948, p. 88.

156 published in Nuremberg in 1658, “resembles the emblem books first in the principle of instruction by pictures and secondly in some of its contents.”7 Comenius’ Orbis Sensualium Pictus can be very roughly described as “an assembly of 151 pictures of things juxtaposed with their names.”8 These ‘things’ are arranged in a succession of groups which are further subdivided into small- er units. The ultimate goal of the work was not only to teach languages through the means of matching pictures and apposite words, but also to reveal universal values by indicating the true order of individual things in the hierarchy of the universe. The procedure thus represented the first and most important step in comprehending the world; and we have to keep constantly in mind that Comenius’ major concern throughout his life was educational reform as part of a program of Protestant universalism known as pansophy. Most of the Orbis pages look like our figure 1, which both depicts and describes The Clouds or Nubes.9 Consisting of inscription, 1. Nubes in: Comenius, Orbis image, and explanatory text, the page at first Pictus sight may resemble a three-partite emblem with (London 1659, no. VIII) its inscriptio, pictura, and subscriptio. Upon clos- er inspection, however, this proves to be merely an outward resemblance. Seen in the light of their inner structure, a chapter from the Orbis Pictus and the emblem do not seem to have much in common. In a good emblem, there should exist ‘a eurythmic interrelationship’ among its three constituent parts: The short motto and the picture create a sort of enigma, the solution to which is alluded to in a concise subscriptio.10 In Comenius’ book, however, inscriptions act like simple titles; images are mostly con- ceived as straightforward illustrations; and explanatory texts plainly describe what has

7 Ibidem, p. 89. Editions and translations of the book are listed in K. Pilz, Johann Amos Comenius: Die Ausgaben des Orbis sensualium pictus. Eine Bibliographie. Nuremberg 1967. 8 S. Alpers, The Art of Describing: Dutch Art in the Seventeenth Century, Chicago 1983, p. 95. Alpers’ references to Comenius have been taken over by F. Bologna, L’incredulità del Caravaggio e l’esperienza delle “cose naturali”, Turin 1992, pp. 177–179 and 442, notes 46–50. 9 J. A. Comenius, Orbis sensualium pictus, in Opera omnia, XVII (Prague: Academia, 1970), pp. 18–19, no. VII (critical edition based on the editio secunda, printed in Nuremberg in 1659). Throughout this article, the English translation quoted is that by Charles Hoole: J. A. Comenius, Orbis Pictus: A facsimile of the first English edition of 1659, intr. J.A. Sadler, London 1968. My figure. 1 comes from this edition: pp. 18– 19, no. VIII. 10 A. B. Sherman and W. S. Heckscher, ‘Alciato, Andrea(s).’ in Die Deutsche Literatur: Biographisches und bibliographisches Lexikon, ser. II: Die Deutsche Literatur zwischen 1450 und 1620, II (Bern 1991), p. 96.

157 been pictured above them. Due to this structure, “title-illustration-description,” the Visible World in Pictures is rather akin to a modern textbook than to the emblem books. On the other hand, what emblematics and the Orbis do have in common is their salient tendency to instruct – a tendency based on the shared belief that all things in the world reflect divine ideas, and, thus, are to be understood as signs or res signifi- cantes which, at the same time, refer to a higher spiritual meaning or significatum. In 1970, this relationship was succinctly defined by Wolfgang Harms: “Emblematics and the Orbis originated in a basically identical understanding of the nature of things [Din- gverständnis].”11 In his important article, Harms differentiated between two modes of emblematics that had exerted an influence on Comenius’ Orbis. Amongst the first of them belong those chapters in the book that feature a (probably unintentional) mixture of straightforward and emblematic representations of visible things. A telling example can be found in Chap- ter XXI, devoted to “Aves campestres et syl- vestres [Birds that Haunt the Fields and Woods]”.12 In the text, the crane has been briefly characterized as “watchful [pervigil grus]”. The adjective – needless to say – harks back to the traditional interpretation of the crane as a notoriously vigilant bird, which is based on Aristotle and Pliny, and is often found in emblem books.13 It is then only natural that in Comenius’ book the crane is represented in a traditional way 14 2. Ethica, in: Comenius, Orbis holding a piece of stone in one of its claws. ensualium Pictus (Nuremberg 1658, no. The second group of emblem-related CIX) representations in the book consists of those items that were – either entirely or in their most significant parts – directly and explicitly inspired by previous emblematic and allegorical traditions. The case in point are nine personifications of moral virtues in Chapters CIX-CXVII. In the first of them, Ethics was rendered visible by the use of the time-honored allegory of the choice of Hercules (figure 2).15 In Chapter CX, Prudence personified looks both

11 Harms (as in n. 4), pp. 531–33. 12 Comenius 1970 (as in n. 8), pp. 46–47, no. XXI. 13 See H.M. von Erffa, Grus vigilans: Bemerkungen zur Emblematik, Philobiblon 1 (1957), pp. 286–308; and also A. Henkel and A. Schöne, Emblemata: Handbuch zur Sinnbildkunst des XVI. und XVII. Jahrhunderts, Stuttgart 1967, cols. 220–221. 14 Harms (as in n. 4), pp. 534–535. 15 Comenius 1970 (as in n. 8), pp. 222–223, no. CIX. This item was briefly discussed in W. Harms, Homo viator in bivio: Studien zur Bildlichkeit des Weges. Munich 1970, pp. 180–186, figs. 45 and 46; R. Vollkom- mer, Herakles – Die Geburt eines Vorbildes und sein Fortbestehen bis in die Neuzeit, Idea 6 (1987), pp. 7–27, esp. p. 25; and A. Bagley, ‘Hercules in Emblem Books and Schools,’ in: eds. A. L. Bagley, E. M. Griffin, and A. J. McLean, The Telling Image: Explorations in the Emblem, New York 1996, pp. 69–95, esp. p. 70. However, the best account of this iconography to date is still the classic work of E. Panofsky, Herkules am Scheidewege und andere antike Bildstoffe in der neueren Kunst. Leipzig and Berlin 1930.

158 3. Prudentia, in: Comenius, Orbis Sensualium Pictus 4. Prudenza, in: C. Ripa, Iconologia (Nuremberg 1658, no. CX) (Padua 1611, p. 442)

backward to the past as into a mirror (“Respicit tanquam in speculum ad praeterita”) and forward to the future or the end as through a telescope (“et prospicit tanquam telescopio futura seu finem”) (fi- gure 3).16 This image can easily be related to the iconography of virtues, so well exemplified in Ce- sare Ripa’s Iconologia, and can be compared with Ripa’s Prudenza (figure 4).17 Comenius’ figure is holding one strikingly untra- ditional attribute, a telescope. Prudence, in her prov- idential capacity, uses the telescope as an instrument for seeing the future, or “the last things of man”, whereby man becomes wise. Such allegorical inter- pretations of recently invented scientific instruments were not uncommon in emblem books.18 It is there- fore quite possible that Comenius’ ‘prospective’ tel- escope was inspired by emblem XIV in Herman Hugo’s Pia Desideria of 1624 (figure 5), or by its 19 5. Pia desideria, in: H. Hugo, derivative in Francis Quarles’ Emblemes of 1635. Pia Desideria Even without delving into the problem more deeply,

16 Comenius 1970 (as in n. 8), pp. 224–225, no. CX. Possible links between this chapter and emblematics were briefly suggested in L. Konečný, Young Milton and the Telescope, Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes 37 (1974), pp. 368–73, esp. p. 370, note 14. For this image, cf. H. H. Mann, Augenglas und Perspectiv: Studien zur Ikonographie zweier Bildmotive. Berlin 1992, pp. 142–143. 17 C. Ripa, Iconologia (Padua 1611), pp. 441–443. Cf. Cavell (as in n. 4), Fig. 2. 18 See P. A. Kirchvogel and A. W. Vliegenthart, ‘Fernrohr’, in Reallexikon zur Deutschen Kunstgeschichte 47, Munich 1982, cols. 269–274; Konečný (as in n. 15), p. 370, note 12. 19 See H. Hugo, Pia Desideria (Antwerp 1624), Lib. I, pp. 107–116, Embl. XIV; F. Quarles, Emblemes (London 1635), Bk. III, pp. 175–179.

159 it may be asserted that the Orbis pictus is not a genuine emblem book. Occasionally borrowing from emblem books, Comenius’ Orbis pictus runs parallel to them. A legitimate question arises at this point: What was Comenius’ documented know- ledge of ideas and opinions regarding emblematics? During the first half of the 1960s, Leonard Forster and Dmitrij Tschižewskij dealt with this issue in a series of short but thoroughly researched articles.20 From Comenius’ numerous writings, they culled the passages that might have been in some way related to emblem books, as well as those passages in the text which reveal something more substantial about his conception of the nature and function of the emblem. Thus in his unfinished Lexicon reale pansophi- cum of the 1640s, Comenius describes the emblem as follows:21

Emblema est Sapientia picta intellectuale aliquid re- The emblem is a painted intellectual wisdom rep- praesentans sensualiter. Constat 1. Symbolo, 2. Lem- resenting something else physically. It consists of mate, 3. Exegesi. (1) symbol, (2) lemma, (3) exegesis.

Symbolum est pictura rei sensibilis; Lemma dictum The symbol is a depiction of a physical thing; the acutum, sensum mysticum applicans; Exegesis lemma as is an acute saying that points to the utriusque explicatio uberior, si opus. mystical sense; the exegesis abundantly explains the two previous parts.

Comenius’ most important statement on the theory of the emblem can, however, be found in Chapter XII of his Pampaedia:22

Posset item exercitium ‘Emblematicum’ institui, per It might be possible to institute an emblematic Emblemata, quae nihil aliud sunt quàm Hieroglyphi- exercise. Here the whole Pansophy should be re- ca textu arguto illustrata, ut sic redeat antiquorum newed in its full splendour, through emblems that Sapientia novo fulgore vestita, ultimis temporibus, ut are nothing other than hieroglyphs explicated in ad imitationem eorum sciamus ‘Emblematicè loqui’, acute texts. Thus we are instructed to speak in the hoc est proverbialiter et parabolicè. same way the ancients did, in the form of proverbs and similes. Formetur ergò Liber cum centum Emblematis, qui- It should be possible to compose a book made up bus tota Pansophia illustretur, elegantibus gnomis in- of one hundred emblems that would elucidate the ter-mixtis. Exempli gratiâ: “… Si Philosophus, dabo whole Pansophy by the means of using acute and tibi Lucis fontes: nosce teipsum.” well-chosen sentences. For example: “… Do you want to become a philosopher? I will give you the source of light: Know thyself!”

Talis libellus verè esset ‘Bibliotheca portatilis, Vivum It would truly be a portable library, a living vade- vade mecum – Lumen inextinguibile’ – formari pos- mecum, an inextinguishable light. It ought to fol- set ad modum Saavedrae Principis Politico-Chris- low the example set by Saavedra’s Princeps tiani. Imò totum de Emendatione R[erum] opus ita politico-christianus. An entire work about emen- contexi posset, aut certè exornati; … dation of human affairs could actually be set up in this way or, at least, thus embellished; …

20 See note 1 supra. 21 Here quoted after J. A. Comenius, Pampaedia, eds. D. Tschižewskij with H. Geissler and K. Schaller (Heidelberg 1960), p. 486. As pointed out by Schaller ([as in n. 4], p. 326) and Maurer ([as in n. 4], p. 84), a similar but less detailed reference to the emblem can be found in Comenius’ Opera didactica omnia (Amsterdam, 1657), II, p. 126: “Reductio Intelligibilis ad sensuale, fit per Emblemata & Parabolas.”

160 6. Animum vegeta libertas alit, in: D. Cramer, Octoginta emblemata moralia 7. Comenius, Title-page of Orbis nova (Francfort 1630, pp. 140–141) Sensualium Pictus (Nuremberg 1658)

The accompanying Latin motto reads: Omnia sponte fluant, absit violentia rebus [Everything flows spontaneously and without violence].

Unfortunately, Comenius never wrote a book like this, but there is some com- pensation for this in an emblem-like image that was printed on the title pages of thir- teen different works the philosopher pub- lished before it finally ushered in his Orbis Sensualium Pictus in 1658 (figure 7).23 Known in four slightly different, but con- stantly more refined, versions, the image shows a landscape where rain is followed 8. Patientia, in: Comenius, Orbis Sensualium by sunshine, and a star-lit night by a bright Pictus (Nuremberg 1658, no. CXIV) day.24

22 Ibidem, pp. 354 and 356. This refers, of course, to Diego Saavedra Fajardo’s widely known emblem book, first printed in Munich in 1640. A little later, Comenius recommends: “Quomodo â Bibliis formari possint Emblemata vid. Crameri embl[ema] morale XXXVI.” This refers to Daniel Cramer’s Octoginta emblemata moralia nova (Francfort, 1630), pp. 140–141: ANIMUM VEGETA LIBERTAS ALIT, based on Psalm 124:7 (Our figure 6). 23 Among many scholars who have more or less extensively discussed this image, see especially J. Brambora, K tzv. heslu Komenského (Concerning the so-called motto of Comenius), Strahovská knihovna 5–6 (1970/ 71), pp. 393–402. 24 All these versions were listed, carefully described, and reproduced by Brambora (as in n. 22), Figs. 44–48. Also see Comenius 1970 (as in n. 8), Figs. 2, 4, and 6.

161 In the specialized literature about Comenius this particular combination of word and image has been, without any serious discrimination, given such various names as sign, headline, motto, and sometimes, even emblem. In contrast to the emblem, howev- er, this mixture of image and text has only two parts (the motto and the pictura); it is therefore more akin to the bipartite impresa. Moreover, while the emblem conveys generally applicable ideas, the impresa is strictly personal. It expresses the personal intentions of a specific individual.25 The pictura and motto analysed here, were discussed several times by Comenius himself in his writings. In fact, they express the basic tenets of both his pansophic pedagogy and moral philosophy. Thus, for instance, in the preface to the third part of his Opera didactica omnia, Comenius stated that the ‘sign’ printed on the book’s title- page represents an idea which is fundamental to his educational method and should be followed in schools.26 Having allowed this, we may conclude that the image here discussed can be considered Comenius’ personal impresa. In addition to its ‘pedagogical’ meaning, the image composed of sun and dark clouds carries – even within Comenius’ own work – a slightly different significance as well. In Chapter CXIV of the Orbis, Patience “expects the sun after clouds, and bearing the bad, hopes for the better [expectat post nubilia Phoebum, ferens mala, sperans meliora]”.27 Accordingly, in the top left corner of the pertinent image (figure 8), the sun is depicted shining through heavy clouds. Now it is important that both this image and text follow a distinctive allegorical and emblematic tradition, which seems to have originated with the twelfth-century poet Alain de Lille (Alanus ab Insulis) who, in turn, had probably been inspired by Job 17:12: “Post tenebras lucem spero.” In his widely read and highly influential Liber parabolarum, Alanus employed the following verbal images:28

25 Here I follow D. Sulzer, Zu einer Geschichte der Emblem Theorien, Euphorion 64 (1970), pp. 23–50, esp. pp. 30–37. 26 See Brambora (as in n. 22), p. 396. 27 Comenius 1970 (as in n. 8), pp. 232–233, no. CXIV. For some comments, see C. Preston, The emblematic structure of Pericles, Word & Image 8 (1992), pp. 21–38, esp. p. 34, fig. 21. For the concept of Patience and its ramifications in 16th- and 17th-century thought and imagery, see R. van Roosbroeck, Patientia: 24 politieke emblemata door Joris Hoefnagel 1569, Antwerp 1935; P.–E. Schazmann, Siegende Geduld: Versuch der Geschichte einer Idee, Bern and Munich 1963); W. S. Heckscher, Shakespeare in His Relationship to the Visual Arts: A Study in Paradox, Research Opportunities in Renaissance Drama 13–14 (1970–1971), pp. 5–71, esp. pp. 35–56 (rpt. in idem, ed. E. Verheyen, Art and Literature: Studies in Relationship, Baden- Baden 1985, pp. 367–433, esp. pp. 397-418); E. McGrath, A Netherlandish History by Joachim Wtewael, Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes 38 (1975), pp. 182–217, esp. pp. 195–197; ed. G. J. Schiffhorst, The Triumph of Patience: Medieval and Renaissance Studies, Orlando 1978; K. G. Boon, Patientia dans les gravures de la Réforme aux Pays-Bas, Revue de l’ Art 56 (1982), pp. 7–24; J. Michalkowa, Patience: A propos d’un tableau de Jacob de Backer, Bulletin du Musée National de Varsovie 25 (1984), pp. 83–93; A. Rollová, Abraham Bloemaert’s Patientia as an Ally of Justice, Bulletin of the National Gallery in Prague 5–6 (1995–1996), pp. 46–52; T. Vignau-Wilberg, ‘Patientia: Humanistische Überlebungsstrategie im 16. Jahrhundert,’ in: eds. P. M. Daly, J. Manning and M. van Vaeck, Emblems from Alciato to the Tattoo: Selected Papers of the Leuven International Emblem Conference, 18–23 August, 1996, Turnhout 2001 [Imago Figurata Studies Vol. 1C], in the press).

162 Clarior est solito, post nubila plurima, Phoebus, After many clouds, the sun shines more brightly; Post inimicitas, clarior est amor. after hostility, love is stronger. Aufert saepe solo nigra nubes lumina solis, Often only one dark cloud deprives the earth of sunshine, Et patris auxilium saeva novesca mihi. like the stepmother who takes away my father’s support. Post noctem sperare diem, post nubila solem, You can hope for day following night, for sun after the clouds, Post lacrymas risum, laetitiamque potes. for laughter and joy after the tears. Non ruit in rupes, nec in alta pericula navis No ship will be wrecked on the rocks, nor be in big troubles, that Quam maris in motus remige rector agit. in the storms of the sea is reigned by the helm of the steersman.

Imagery like this soon found many admirers and followers, some of them devising imprese and emblems. In an underground corridor of the Sforza castle in Milan, an allegory of stormy political times in the guise of a serene landscape where people were shown dancing under tempestuous clouds was painted. A 16th-century commentator explained its meaning using words that are strongly reminiscent of the poem by Alain: “Post malum bonum, et post tenebras spero lucem.”29 One of the emblems published by Juan de Horozco y Covarrubias in 1589 has the motto POST NVBILA CLARIOR.30 Another emblem of 1624 by Johann Mannich, informs the reader: POST TRISTITIA LAETA VICIS- SIM.31

28 Ed. J.–P. Migne, Patrologia Latina CCX, Paris, 1855, cols. 581 and 583. Medieval variants were listed by H. Walther, Proverbia sententiaeque medii aevi, Göttingen 1963/69, II/3, pp. 895 (nos. 22014a, 22015), 896 (no. 22018), 897 (nos. 22025 and 22030), and 898 (no. 22031). Also cf. Tobias 3, 22: “Post tempestatem, tranquillum facis, & post lachrymationem & fletum, exultationem infundis.” In a paper read at the 1990 International Emblem Conference in Glasgow, Johannes Köhler pointed out the proximity between Alain’s imagery and emblematics: ‘Alain de Lille im praeemblematischen Kontext,’ in Glasgow Interna- tional Emblem Conference 1990: Abstracts (Glasgow, 1990), pp. 71–72. 29 On this painted allegory and its connections with Leonardo da Vinci, see C. Pedretti, Allegorie nel MS. H, Raccolta Vinciana 18 (1968), pp. 163–165; and C. J. Moffatt, MERITO ET TEMPORE: The Imprese of Lodovico Sforza at Vigevano, Emblematica: An Interdisciplinary Journal for Emblem Studies 3 (1988), pp. 229– 262, esp. p. 244, note 38. 30 J. de Horrozco y Covarrubias, Emblemas morales (Segovia, 1589), II, no. 6. See Henkel and Schöne (as in n. 12), cols. 24–25. 31 J. Mannich, Sacra emblemata LXXVI (Nuremberg, 1625), p. 15 (see Henkel and Schöne [as in n. 12], col. 1032). Emblems stemming from this textual and conceptual tradition are listed in J. M. Díaz de Bustamante, Instrumentum Emblematicum, Hildesheim, Zurich, and New York 1992), cols. 1068–1069. In addition to those found there and/or in notes 32 and 33 infra, see also J. Typotius, Symbola divina et humana (Prague 1601–03), II, pp. 28–29, no. XVIII: “POST TENEBRAS LVCEM”; O. Vaenius, Amorum Emblemata (Antwerp 1603), no. 72 (POST NVBILA PHOEBVS); J. de Borja, Empresas morales (Prague 1581), no. 10: NITOR IN ADVERSVM (Henkel and Schöne [as in n. 12], col. 24); F. Picinelli, Mundus Symbolicus, ed. A. Erath (Cologne 1694), p. 40, no. 19: NON SEMPER IMBRES. The survival in and influence on Renaissance and Baroque imagery of the text by Alain is certainly worthy of further study. As a sort of preface to it I would like to recall that, in 1577, Laurence Humphrey wrote a poem for the English Queen Elizabeth that began with the verse “Post tenebras lucem dedit, et post nubila solem” (see R. Strong, The Cult of Elizabeth: Elizabethan Portraiture and Pageantry, London 1977, p. 122). Further instances can be found in Thomas Blount’s 1646 translation of H. Estienne’s The Art of Military Devices: “Post tenebras lucem” (see A. Young, ‘The English Tournament Imprese,’ in: ed. P. M. Daly, The English Emblem and the Continental Tradition, New York 1988, pp. 61–81, esp. p. 81, note 46); and on temporary architectural structures erected for the festive sanctification of St. John of Nepomuk in Prague in 1729 (see Johannes of Nepomuk 1393–1993, exh. cat. Bayerisches Nationalmuseum, Munich 1993, p. 86). Some of the aforementioned emblems were recalled in connection with Rembrandt’s stormy landscapes in Brunswick and Amsterdam by A. Ziemba, Rembrandts Landschaft als Sinnbild: Versuch einer ikonologischen Deutung, Artibus et Historiae 8: 15 (1987), pp. 109–134. esp. pp. 118–119.

163 Among the emblems that were inspired by Alain’s Book of Parables, or by its tradition, there are two that, in turn, might have inspired Comenius’ own impresa. Both can be found in emblem books pub- lished by Gabriel Rollenhagen. Emblem 58 in Rol- lenhagen’s Nucleus emblematum selectissimorum from 1611, shows how plants and flowers, withered by too much sunshine, are revitalized by refreshing rain (figure 9). The motto reads: POST TENTATIONEM CONSOLATIO; the short commentary, as paraphrased by George Wither in 1635, explains that,32 When we have greatest Griefes and Feares. Then, Consolation sweet’st appears. Two years later, in 1613, Rollenhagen published 9. G. Rollenhagen, Nucleus a book entitled Selectorum Emblematum centuria emblematum selectissimorum secunda, where Emblem 82 bears the motto POST (Arnheim 1611, no. 58) NVBILA PHOEBVS (figure 10). Its commentary, once again in Wither’s translation, goes as follows:33 Let none in troublous times repine; For, after Storms, the Sun will shine. In their imagery and choice of vocabulary, the two emblems by Rollenhagen obviously belong to the tradition sketched out above. Inspired by Alain de Lille, they lay stress on the virtue of patience in human affairs, as well as on the consoling inevita- bility of the course of nature. These ideas – need- less to stress – were analogous to those on which Comenius based his reform of pedagogy: In educa- tion, as in nature, everything must be done with patience and in due course, spontaneously but with- out violence. I have previously mentioned that Comenius’ impresa is known today in several dif- ferent versions. While the earliest printing of this 10. Post nubila Phoebus, in: emblematic composition is not only very schemat- G. Rollenhagen, Emblematum ic, it is also executed by an obviously untrained centuria secunda (Utrecht/ hand in a rather crude woodcut technique (figure 11). Arnheim 1613, no. 82)

32 G. Rollenhagen, Nucleus emblematum selectissimorum (Arnheim, 1611), no. 58 (Henkel and Schöne [as in n. 12], cols. 285–286). For a brief discussion of the emblem’s structural qualities, see D. Peil, Emblem Types in Gabriel Rollenhagen’s’ Nucleus Emblematum,’ Emblematica: An Interdisciplinary Journal for Emblem Studies 6 (1992), pp. 255–82, esp. pp. 272f. The English translation comes from G. Wither, A Collection of Emblemes (London, 1635), p. 70. 33 G. Rollenhagen, Selectorum Emblematum centuria secunda (Utrecht and Arnheim 1613), no. 82 (Henkel and Schöne [as in n. 12], col. 25); and Wither (as in n. 31), p. 240.

164 11. Impresa on the title-page of 12. Impresa on the title-page of Comenius, Comenius, Methodus linguarum Opera Didactica Omnia (Amsterdam 1657, Part III)

The ‘final’ version, engraved by Crispijn de Passe II in 1657, is striking on account of its representational skill and conceptual refinement (figure 12). To a certain degree, this change can admittedly be attributed to the fact that there were better artists available in Amsterdam than in Nuremberg. But I would like to suggest here that the newly achieved finesse of design and execution may have resulted from a very complex relationship, both visual and textual, among Alain’s poem, its progeny, Comenius’ impresa, and Rembrandt van Rijn’s Landscape with Three Trees ([B./ Holl. 212] (figure 13).34 Signed in 1643, this work is undoubtedly Rembrandt’s largest and technically most ambitious landscape etching. Although the scenery was previously identified as one of the dikes not far from Amsterdam (with the view of the city itself lightly sketched in the left background), most scholars today

34 From among numerous, mostly recent, interpretations of this etching, see especially C. Campbell, Rembrandts etsen ‘Het sterfbed van Maria’ en ‘De drie bomen’, De kroniek van het Rembrandthuis 32:2 (1980), pp. 2–33; L. Stone-Ferrier, Dutch Prints of Daily Life, exh. cat. Spencer Museum of Art, Lawrence 1983, pp. 169–172; A. Bentkowska, Symbolika drzewa: Dylematy zwiazane z emblematyczna metoda interpretacji malarstwa (The symbolism of the trees. Dilemmas connected with the emblematic interpre- tation method of painting), Rocznik Historii Sztuki 15 (1985), pp. 305–315; A. Werbke, Rembrandts ‘Landschaftsradierung mit drei Bäumen’ als visuell-gedankliche Herausforderung, Jahrbuch der Berliner Museen 31 (1989), pp. 225–250; C. Schneider, Rembrandt’s Landscapes: Drawings and Prints, exh. cat. National Gallery of Art, Washington 1990, p. 241; H. Bevers, in idem, P. Schatborn, and B. Welzel, Rembrandt: The Master & His Workshop: Drawings & Etchings, exh. cat., New Haven and London 1991, pp. 218–219, cat. no. 19; B. Kirsch, Rembrandt and the Three Trees, Print Quarterly 8:4 (1991), pp. 436–438; L. Stone-Ferrier, Rembrandt’s Landscape Etchings: Defying Modernity’s Encroachment, Art History 15 (1992), pp. 403–433, esp. pp. 404 a 409; S.D. Kuretsky, Worldly Creation in Rembrandt’s ‘Landscape with Three Trees’, Artibus et Historiae 15:30 (1994), pp. 157–191; D. Limouze, The Felix M. Warburg Print Collection: A Legacy of Discernment, exh. cat. Loeb Art Center, Poughkeepsie 1995, pp. 118–120, cat. no. 38; H. R. Nevitt, Jr., Rembrandt’s Hidden Lovers, Nederlands Kunsthistorisch Jaarboek 48 (1997), pp. 162–191.

165 13. Rembrandt, Landscape with 3 Trees. (Etching, B./Holl. 212) hold that the artist did not intend to represent a specific topographical site but “evoked the characteristic features of the Dutch environment in a generic sense.”35 Rembrandt enlivened the landscape by placing in its fore- and middle grounds several tiny figures and, in particular, by a huge expanse of (partially) dramatic sky. The most conspicuous feature of this grand skyscape is seen in its upper left corner. Scholars writing about Rembrandt’s Landscape with the Three Trees disagree about whether the parallel diagonal lines we see there were meant to suggest sheets of rain or, for instance, as in The Three Crosses, by the same artist, rays of light.36 Both readings have their defenders because of, as Limouze has perceptively remarked, “Differences in the inking of the plate in various impressions strikingly alter these ef- fects.”37 In my opinion, these hatchings ought to be seen in conjunction with turbulent clouds above the plain in Rembrandt’s print, and therefore interpreted as a means of representing rain showers. Another argument against this interpretation points out that, if the artist indeed wanted to represent a storm, it would be difficult to explain why the figures in the etching do not react to it properly. The logical conclusion would then be that “Rembrandt has, indeed, recorded the effects of weather… but not a storm in the real sense.”38 According to my reading, however, the meteorological occurrences

35 Kuretsky (as in n. 34), p. 157. 36 At least since 1751, when Gersaint had written in connection with these lines that “… on voit tomber la pluie,” most authors understood them as representing rain. Several notable dissidents are listed by Kuretsky, Worldly Creation, p. 186, note 8. It has been also noted that, at the end of the 18th century, the English reproductive engraver William Baillie added to Rembrandt’s landscape a flash of lightning, thus emphasizing its ‘stormy’ character. See Campbell (as in n. 34), Fig. 21. 37 Limouze (as in n. 34), p. 118. 38 Bevers (as in n. 34), p. 28.

166 rendered by Rembrandt are no more ‘real’ than the landscape setting below them is topographically ‘correct.’ Both are freely composed and thus open to further interpre- tation. Starting from the following cluster of observations and assumptions, in the most recent of these interpretations Susan Kuretsky has tried to explain Landscape with Three Trees as Rembrandt’s reflections both about the nature of creation, and the artist’s role as the worldly creator:39 As recent scholarship on sixteenth and seventeenth century Netherlandish landscape has shown, artists wishing to convey universal ideas about the world … often did so by employing formal and thematic polarities. Rembrandt’s thoughtfully articulated composition in Landscape with Three Trees is a major example of this practice, for the image is built up of powerful contrasts between the two sides of the scene. At the left are towering, wind-blown clouds and dark diagonals of rain, while the sky at the right, bright and open, acts as a brilliant backdrop for the silhouette of the large trees. The same multiple contrasts were discussed above as characteristic of the textual and visual traditions we had traced from Alain de Lille down to Comenius. In my mind, the underlying concept of Rembrandt’s Landscape with Three Trees must be understood within the context established by these traditions and their representatives. Susan Kuretsky, in fact, has already noticed the obvious correspondences between Rem- brandt’s print of 1643 and Rollenhagen’s emblem of 1611, but these observations did not lead to the necessary conclusions since there was then no encompassing frame- work for them available.40 It may be worth mentioning in this context that according to another astute observation made by Kuretsky, the wind blows from right to left in Rembrandt’s landscape – which means that the rainstorm is not approaching but receding. Accordingly, “this landscape represents a roughly equal balance between sunny and clouded sky.”41 The consoling message this sky communicates is, therefore, identi- cal to that of Rollenhagen’s emblem and its textual ancestry. In a similar manner, Dorothy Limouze recently emphasized that Rembrandt’s depiction of the sky invites [similar interpretations], as moral and religious metaphors for meteorological conditions and times of day are to be found in Dutch literature. In this connection, she cited Constantijn Huygens’ poem The Restless Balance Wheel, where the change of weather had been used as a metaphor for changes of fortune:42 Although the thorns may hurt, it’s suffered for the roses. Sunshine succeeds black clouds and light tempestuous gloom.

39 Kuretsky (as in n. 34), pp. 169 and 159f. 40 Ibidem, p. 171. Other correspondences between the Rembrandt and emblems were suggested ibid., p. 179; as well as by Stone-Ferrier (as in n. 34), pp. 169–170; Bentkowska (as in n. 34), p. 311; and Ziemba (as in n. 34), p. 124. 41 Kuretsky (as in n. 34), pp. 171 and 187, note 22 (conveniently summarizing earlier opinions). 42 Limouze (as in n. 34), p. 120, as translated by M.A. Schenkveld, Dutch Literature in the Age of Rembrandt, Amsterdam 1991, pp. 162–165.

167 Unquestionably, the weather met- aphors employed by Huygens once again refer to the same tra- dition we have followed through centuries back to Alain de Lille’s Book of Parables. As a result of the arguments and evidence advanced above, we are now able to assemble a group of works where nearly identical literary and visual images were used in service of the concept I propose to call tentatively ‘the moralized weather’: le temps mor- alisé. The concept had taken its 14. Jan van Bylert, Merry Company documented origin in the Bible, (Utrecht, Centraal Museum) and – as I hope to have demon- strated – was eagerly adopted by many later writers and artists, Comenius and Rembrandt among them. The two great men used the same traditional imagery of the ever-changing sun, rain, and storm; and, despite the fact that they were probably personally acquainted, they did so in different ways and for differing purposes.43 While for Comenius the image of spontaneously changing weather manifested the core principles of his pedagogy, Rembrandt understood it as a paragon of both divine and worldly creation. This diversity alone should be enough to demonstrate how strong the tradition of moralized weather still was during the seventeenth century, and how redolent of meaning was the imagery of meteorological change. Given the above, the conclusions arrived at in this article could shed additional light on the ongoing scholarly debate about perspectives and values of interpretation of Dutch landscape painting of the Golden Age.44

43 From 1656 until his death in 1670 Comenius lived in Amsterdam. This period of his life was discussed by J. C. Breen, Johannes Amos Comenius te Amsterdam, Maandblad Amstelodamum 64 (1920), pp. 72–76; W. Rood, Comenius and the Low Countries: Some Aspects of Life and Work of a Czech Exile in the Seventeenth Century, Amsterdam 1970; N. Moutová and J. Polišenský, Komenský v Amsterodamu (Comenius in Amsterdam), Prague 1970; L.F. Groenendijk and J.C. Sturm, Comenius in Nederland: Reacties op een Grote Tsjechische Pedagoog, Kampen 1992; J. Skutil, Poslední Komenského období (1656–1670) v Amste- rodamu (The last period of Comenius (1656–1670) in Amsterdam), Acta Musei Moraviae – Scientiae Sociales 81 (1996), pp. 167–202. As far as I know, the only detailed discussion of possible contacts between the philosopher and Rembrandt can be found in a now dated, brief article by K. Chytil, O domnělé Rembrandtově podobizně Komenského v gallerii Pitti (About Rembrandt’s presumed portrait of Comenius in the Galleria Pitti), Ročenka kruhu pro pěstování dějin umění (1915), pp. 62–65; and recently in S. Perlove, Awaiting the Messiah: Christians, Jews, and Muslims in the Late Works of Rembrandt, Bulletin, The University of Michigan Museums of Art and Archaeology 11 (1994/96), pp. 85–113. In the late 1650s, Comenius was portrayed by Rembrandt’s follower Jürgen Ovens (Amsterdam, Rijksmuseum, inv. no. A 2161); see W. Sumowski, Gemälde der Rembrandt-Schüler, Landau 1983, III, no. 1534.

168 Now, and by the way of closing, I would like to suggest that the specif- ic case presented in this paper can be brought into an even wider methodo- logical context by being related to a recent polemic about the interpreta- tion of Jan van Bylert’s Merry Compa- ny in the Central Museum in Utrecht (See figure 14, above). In 1976, Eddy de Jongh noted the striking resem- blance between the central motif of this composition, the pulling apart of the pretzel, and an emblem of 1624 by Johan de Brune (figure 15, left).45 Te n years later, however in his important article, On symbol and meaning in Dutch seventeenth-century art, Peter 15. Johan de Brune, Emblemata of zinne-werck (Amsterdam 1624, no. 19) Hecht found this ‘emblematic’ inter- pretation inaccurate. According to his reasoning,46 De Brune’s text is rather serious and exalted, discussing God and the devil tugging and pulling at the pretzel, that is, fighting over soul, each trying to procure the greater half. [Van Bylert’s] message is bound to be a simpler one. It is (…) an old-fashioned comment on the deceitfulness of women, which is why the man on the right is mimicking the trick of the woman on the left, so that we all might see that she is using two fingers to obtain the bigger part of the pretzel, while her male partner is using only one and is thus bound to lose. This means that what is common to van Bylert’s painting and the emblem by de Brune, is their pilot motif, the pulling of the pretzel, but not its meaning. However, both the picture and the print do share a common origin in the extraordinary rich lore of Dutch proverbs. I believe that by following this lead we can draw the following lesson: Art historians should avoid being led to false conclusions by evidence that is, by definition, almost entirely visual. On the other hand, literary scholars should stop overestimating their textual ‘sources’ at the expense of existing and well documented

44 I would like to note in this context that the contrast between bright and cloudy areas of sky is character- istic of many Dutch seventeenth-century stormy seascapes; see L. O. Goedde, Tempest and Shipwreck in Dutch and Flemish Art: Convention, Rhetoric, and Interpretation, University Park and London 1989. When writing this article, I profited very much from (totally contrasting) views offered by J. Bruyn, ‘Toward a Scriptural Reading of Seventeenth-Century Dutch Landscape Painting,’ in P. Sutton, Masters of 17th- Century Dutch Landscape Painting, exh. cat. Museum of Fine Arts, Boston 1987, pp. 84–103; and J. Welsh, ‘Skies and Reality in Dutch Landscape,’ in: eds. D. Freedberg and J. de Vries, Art in History, History in Art: Studies in Seventeenth Century Dutch Culture, Santa Monica 1991, pp. 95–117. Cf. also R. Falkenburg, De betekenis van het geschilderde hollandse landschap van de zeventiende eeuw: een beschouwing naar aanlei- ding van enkele recente interpretaties, Theoretische Geschiedenis 16 (1989), pp. 131–153. 45 J. de Brune, Emblemata of zinne-werck (Amsterdam, 1624), no. 19. See Tot Lering en Vermaak (as in n. 1), pp. 69–71, cat. no. 11. 46 Hecht 1986 (as in n. 3), p. 178.

169 visual traditions. If allowed to paraphrase Erwin Panofsky, I would characterize the relationship between the art historian and the historian of literature as that between47 two neighbors who have the right of shooting over the same district, while one of them owns the gun and the other all the ammunition. Both parties would be well advised if they realized this condition of their partnership.

47 Cf. E. Panofsky, ‘Introduction: The History of Art as a Humanistic Discipline,’ Meaning in the Visual Arts: Papers in and on Art History, Garden City (N. Y.), 1957, p. 22.

170 ACTA UNIVERSITATIS PALACKIANAE OLOMUCENSIS FACULTAS PHILOSOPHICA NEERLANDICA II – 2003

“Ut pictura poesis?” Two Amsterdam Poets on Painting and Poetry

Riet Schenkeveld (University of Utrecht)

In recent decades, the number of publications on the relationship between the art of painting and literature, e. g. on pictorialism or, especially, emblematics, has grown so enormous that a comprehensive review has become well-nigh impossible. Often, the relationship is described in terms of the so-called paragone, or competition between the sister arts: painters were more concerned with nature, and were better equipped for portraying reality, poets had more philosophical and educational con- cerns. Older studies, like that of Gerard Brom, suggest that a comparative investiga- tion of painting and poetry from such a viewpoint must lead to the conclusion that Dutch painting is world-class, whereas Dutch poets hardly get above the level of providing a small elite with Parnassian language.1 J. L. Price has elaborated on this theme: the poet claimed to be an artist, the painter an artisan, but he who started with less pretensions, was the victorious one at the end of the day.2 This view, of course, did not remain unchallenged. Karel Porteman, for instance, has scrutinized the relationship between poetry and painting from different points of view. His work on Vondel’s pictorialism broke new ground, and showed us, among other things, that Vondel was a lot funnier than we knew about.3 In his work on emblematics, too, he broke a lance for the quality of the poetry involved. The seventeenth century itself was not without examples of a certain rivalry between poetry and painting. In this paper, I would like to focus on a central figure in Golden Age Amsterdam, the poet and theatre manager Jan Vos, because his position in the paragone would seem to be rather curious. What, to put it briefly, to think of a poet who states more than once: ‘Seeing goes above saying’?4 Up till now his life and work have not been studied exhaustively. The German art-historian Gregor Weber wrote a thesis on Vos’ allegorical poem Zeege der schilderkunst (Victory of Painting)

1 Gerard Brom, Schilderkunst en litteratuur in de 16 en 17e eeuw (Painting and literature during the 16th and 17th century). Utrecht 1957 2 J. L. Price, Culture and Society in the Dutch Republic during the 17th Century. London 1974. 3 E. g. K. Porteman, ‘Geschreven met de linkerhand. Letteren tegenover schilderkunst in de Gouden eeuw’ (Written by the left hand. Literature against painting in the Golden Age). In: Ed. M. Spies. Historische letterkunde. Facetten van vakbeoefening (Historical literature. Aspects of the subject). Gronin- gen 1984, p. 93–113. 4 Preface Medea. in: W. J. C. Buitendijk, Jan Vos Toneelwerken (The theatre of Jan Vos). Amsterdam 1975, p. 354.

171 and also Vos’ poems in praise of paintings have been an object of study.5 Literary historians have mainly been interested in his plays. Buitendijk has provided us with text editions.6 Interesting studies on Vos’ theory and practice of drama have been offered by Marijke Meijer Drees and Jan Konst.7 Jan Vos lived in Amsterdam from 1610 to 1667, where he worked as a glazier, a well-to-do craftsman, who, for instance, was commissioned to provide the glass for the new Town Hall of Amsterdam.8 More important to us is that Vos in 1647 was appointed as member of the college of ‘Directeuren’ of the Amsterdam theatre, a company of six managers/directors. Before that, he had already been writing for the theatre. His tragedy Aran en Titus was first performed in 1641, his farce Oene in 1642. In addition, Vos provided several ‘Verto- ningen’, presentations, for instance in 1648 at the occasion of the end of the Eighty Years’ War, and also in 1660 where he made the notorious mistake of showing the execution of Charles I under the eyes of his daughter, Mary Stuart, then visiting Amsterdam.9 Vos’ contacts with the Amsterdam patriciate, to which he was related through his mother, were excellent. He wrote many poems for his rich patrons at a range of occasions, made shorter or longer epigrams to many portraits and also dedicated various works to his influential friends. It is unfortunate that we know next to nothing about Vos’ education. He never went to University, though. His publisher Lescailje mentions in the flowery language of the time that “he never drank from the pure stream of world-wise learning in higher schools of education”.10 Neither did he visit the Latin school, as we from his own remarks as well as from comments of others may conclude that he knew no Latin, although he obviously acquired an extensive knowledge of classical mythology and history. The above shows, that Vos had a close relationship with many arts: literature, drama and painting. He had personal relations with many painters, as we might expect, since the glaziers and the painters belonged to the same St. Lucas guild. In 1654, at the occasion of the founding of the so-called Broederschap der schilderkunst (Confraternity of Painting) when the artist painters separated from the more trades- man-like members of the old guild, Vos wrote a long epical poem on the art of

5 Gregor J. M. Weber, Der Lobtopos des ‘lebenden’ Bildes: Jan Vos und sein ‘Zeege der Schilderkunst’ von 1654. Hildesheim 1991. 6 W. J. C. Buitendijk, Jan Vos Toneelwerken. Amsterdam 1975. 7 Marijke Meijer Drees, Toneelopvattingen in beweging: rivaliteit tussen Vos en Vondel in 1641 (Meanings about theatre in movement: rivality between Vos and Vondel in 1641). In: De nieuwe taalgids 79 (1986), pp. 453–460.; Jan Konst, Het noodtlot stat zoo pal gelijk een staale muur. Het fatum stoicum in Jan Vos’ ‘Medea’ (The fate is stands firm like a wall of steel. The fatum stoicum in Jan Vos’ Medea). In: Nederlandse letterkunde 3 (1998), pp. 357–371. 8 Biographical information in J. A. Worp, Jan Vos. Groningen 1879, Buitendijk, and S. A. C. Dudok van Heel, Jan Vos (1610–1667), Jaarboek Amstelodamum 72, pp. 23–42. 9 Buitendijk, op. cit., p. 18. 10 Jan Vos, Alle de gedichten (All poems). Verzamelt en uitgegeven door J. L. Amsterdam 1662, p. **.

172 painting, called Strydt tusschen de doodt en natuur of Zeege der schilderkunst (The Battle between Death and Nature, or the Victory of Painting).11 The title represents the contents well. Death appears victorious over nature and even man, creation’s crown, must die. Dame Nature defends herself, among other things, by calling on Surgery and Medicine, but Death can raise more ailments than medicines may cure. At last, Nature turns to Lady Painting. She is able to keep people alive, even after their bodies have died. As is expressed by the final line of the poem: ‘De scherpe Doodtschicht wijkt voor ’t stomp penseel’ (The sharp arrow of death yields to the blunt brush). Thus, the poet acknowledges the primacy of the painter in immortalizing people, a primacy that had been the prerogative claimed by writers since Antiquity. In the poem, poetry plays but a modest part: painting is willing to make use of knowledge the sister art may possess. Of course, a poem like this should not be read out of context. Vos wanted, or even had been given the assignment, to celebrate the foundation of the new Confraternity, by praising the art of painting. In order not to neglect poetry completely, he did write also that ‘both (painting and poetry) were deemed to be great by the Mighty’, and later, when the artistic greatness of Amsterdam is prophesied, Apollo, the god of poetry, and Apelles, the famous Greek painter, are mentioned in the same breath. Anyway, Vos was interested in the art of painting, as is evident from the vast number of poems he made on paintings and portraits. If that is combined with his maxim, mentioned earlier, ‘Seeing goes above saying’, one might see Vos actually as a peintre manqué. That would be jumping to conclusions, however. Besides poems of praise for paintings, his works abound with praises of poetry. In his collected works, Vos presents himself as a poet, even a born poet, not dependent on various kinds of learning,12 a point of view adopted by many of his panegyrists.13 Vos regards poetry, in the same words as Vondel did, as ‘the most divine of all’ (preface Aran en Titus).14 Jubilantly he thanks his admirer Van Baerle in the line: ‘Your verses make me live eternally’.15 But not only he himself, but the high and mighty as well are dependent on poetry for lasting glory: ‘des Dichters veeder doet de doode krygshelt leeven’16 (The poet’s pen revives the dead hero). Vos’ clearest statement, on poetry and himself, is a poem in which he explains to a friend why he does not want to marry.17 He already has a predominant love, wise and beautiful and worshipped everywhere. It is her he serves and adores, but, although she is friendly, as soon as he starts talking of marriage, she leaves – evidently, she has more than one favourite.

11 Alle de gedichten 1662. p. 127–141. Cf. Gregor Weber (note 4). 12 Alle de gedichten p. 484. 13 E.g. Van Baerle. (Ed. Buitendijk p. 107) and Joan Victorijn (Ed. Buitendijk p. 109) 14 Ed. Buitendijk p. 105. 15 Alle de gedichten p. 276. 16 Alle de gedichten p. 469. 17 Alle de gedichten p. 488.

173 Vraagt gy wie dat het is die my van smart doet quynen? You ask who it may be, that makes me pine in sorrow? Het is de Dichtkunst, o de Dichtkunst! Rijk van zin: It is poetry, the art that is replete of sense. Therefore, do Dies stel geen ander voor; ik wissel niet in ’t minnen. not propose someone else, I’ll not change my love. Of all De Dichtkunst is de waardtst’ der neege Zanggodinnen. the Muses, she is the most worthy.

Many poets, and not the least ones, applauded the appearance of Vos’ collected poems, and, as many of his poems show, he in his turn maintained amicable contacts with many of them: Hooft, Vondel, Van Baerle, Tesselschade, just to mention some names. Poetry and painting both have their value, and Vos is unreservedly happy with being a poet. Sometimes, however, he, as a poet, can make use of the specific gifts of painting, that is when he is writing for the theatre. It is here that the maxim ‘seeing goes above saying’ applies. The poet wants to be a teacher, or, to cite Vos’ own words in the preface to Medea: he wants to point towards the path of virtue.18 To this end, the poet, of course, uses language. But in order that his treasures of wisdom ‘easily pass through the ears into the heart’ they should be presented in such a way that the audience remains interested. The average man and woman will absorb the lectures more easily if they are supported by visual means. Vos went so far as to adapt some of his non- dramatic verse to the stage. In 1659, for instance, he published his poem Ontzet van Koppenhaven (The relief of Copenhagen’).19 This is an epic poem of some 1000 lines. It covers the siege of Copenhagen by the army of King Gustav of Sweden, the battles fought against him by the Danish King Frederic and the relief of the town by the Dutch fleet. The parts of Good and Evil are easily distinguished. The Swedes fight a war of conquest and plunder – their king says so in so many words – and the Danes are forced to defend themselves. The Dutch hold the keys to the seas, not to rob, but to keep them open to all. Throughout the poem there is an enormous amount of very bloody fighting, which is reported with a strong sense for gruesome and crass details. Apart from that, there is much to be seen. Besides, for instance, the kings of Sweden and Denmark, a number of allegorical figures are presented. For instance, Lady Greedy Ambition, who is, of course, on the Swedish side, departs to the Garden of Violence, a horrible place. Violence is willing to give the Swedes a hand and leaves in her coach to Copenhagen, accompanied by Robbery, Corruption, and Fierceness. Lady Peace mourns, but cannot interfere. First the ferocious Swedes must be beaten. All charac- ters, historical as well as allegorical, deliver longer or shorter speeches. In short, we have here both a rhetorical and a visual text, and that is exactly what Vos wanted. The poem was one of those he has presented on stage. At the rear of the 1659-edition it says: “The above Relief of Copenhagen has been presented and pronounced most elegantly on the stage of the Amsterdam Theatre by eighty persons, for the eyes and ears of all lovers of the Dutch free navigation and the good of the Allies.”

18 Buitendijk, op. cit., p. 358 19 I made use of the first edition, 1659 (Municipal Library Haarlem 128 A 63)

174 When one reads the poem and remembers the love Vos as a theatre man had for spectacular effects, one can easily imagine what such a performance looked like: beautifully dressed characters, presumably standing before changing backdrops, speak- ing their texts, whereas the connecting narrative was recited by a narrator, maybe the poet himself. Again it becomes clear how Vos wanted to combine seeing and saying in order to make as deep an impression as possible.20 In this way the stage may be seen as the solution to the paragone. But I think there is more to say about the question. In the final analysis Vos admires each human art and skill for being able to surpass or conquer nature or reality. Nature is without order, art provides it. Reality is chaos, art tries to control it. All human effort is directed – one might say by sheer necessity – at controlling nature. That goes for the art of gardening, to name but one example: Hij [=Jan Roeters] dwingt Natuur, door kunst, om ‘s winters vrucht te zien. Een mensentuin verduurt het hof der plantgodinnen. [The owner of a garden forces nature by art in winter to see fruit Man’s gardens do outlast the ones that Flora planted.] The sciences also are able to understand and to control nature. It is precisely tamed nature that provides the best lessons, like the zoological garden in Goudestein, where everything the poet sees provides him with a maxim.21 But art tops it all. As the central theme of Vos’ artistic creed I would propose therefore: Art fights chaos. This may sound strange for a poet whose trademark would seem to be chaos, but precisely because Vos is so convinced of the evil of revenge and counter-revenge, war and irrationality, the arts are necessary to keep evil within bounds. In a letter to one of his patrons it becomes clear how Vos sees life:22 Het hobbelende schip van ons leeven, tot zinkens toe overlaaden, en geen oogenblik voor ’t gijben veiligh, wordt in de woeste zee van de werrelt, door d’ongebreidelde golven, en d’yslijk bulderende buien van ’t gevaar, herwaarts en derwaarts gesmeeten. [The rocking ship of our life, overloaded to the point of foundering, not for a moment safe from keeling over, is tossed to and fro in the savage sea of the world, by the unleashed waves and the frighteningly roaring storms of danger.] From this point of view other things also become clear. In the well-known preface to Medea Vos describes the starting-point of his tragedy as follows: “[Medea] staat gereedt om, tot barstens toe vol spijt, dol van gramschap, en overheet naar weederwraak haar kinderen (…) op d’aardt te smijten, om het brein en bloedt in het aangezicht van Jazon, de vaader, te doen spatten.” [Medea stands ready, crammed with spite, mad with wrath and lusting for revenge, to hurl her children to the ground and make brains and blood bespatter the face of their father, Jason.]

20 His poem Tranen over Maria Stuart (Tears over Mary Stuart) also was shown on the Amsterdam stage, in 1661, by more than 70 persons. Cf. E. Oey-de Vita en M. Geesink a.w. p. 197 21 Alle de gedichten p. 246. 22 Buitendijk, op. cit., p. 490.

175 Evidently, a play full of chaos and misery is to follow and this is defended by Vos in so many words in the Preface:23 Het leeven der Grooten en kleenen, dat men bywijlen op de Tooneelen laat zien, bestaat meest in toomeloosheeden; wie in deeze wanorder van leeven order wil houden, vervalt zelf in wanorder: want hy wijkt van de waarheidt: maar wie wanorder wel zal uitbeelden, moet wanorder gebruiken, en dan is wanorder, in dat deel, order. [The lives of the high as well as of the lowly, as shown occasionally on stage, are mostly full of unbridled passions. Anyone who wants to keep order in life’s chaos, falls himself into disorder, because he retreats from truth; but he who wants to picture chaos well, has to use disorder and then, for that part, chaos becomes order.] If the theatre is to imitate life or nature, it must portray chaos, because such is life. In an interesting paper, Jan Konst has shown how Vos demonstrates in Medea what the world looks like if everything and everybody are subject to nothing but stoic fate.24 Then, all ethics, every notion of good and evil, is lacking. The play is a succession of the most horrible crimes, but no punishment follows. Konst suggests that Vos keeps his distance from such a world, and expects his public to do likewise. Medea would portray an immoral world, but poet and public watch it, strengthened by the truths of the Christian faith and knowing that in their society, evil is actually kept within limits. I wonder, and I shall give reasons for this doubt, whether this view may not be too optimistic. Again, the abovementioned Relief of Copenhagen may serve for this pur- pose. In this poem, chaos and violence get their full share. The poet, however, takes a clear ethical stand: violence, bloodlust, tyranny, are all strongly to be condemned. Virtue is rewarded. By the aid of the Dutch, the horrible Swedes are driven away. Europe may breathe again. On the last page, the poet once more speaks himself and eulogizes the valiant Frederic of Denmark, who won a just battle: O Koning, die uw volk door wapendeugdt doet leeven! O King, your people live by virtue of your arms. De daaden van de minst’ der helden zyn weleer Of old, the deeds of less heroic men Onsterfelyk gemaakt door zangen: uw geweer Were sung by poets in immortalizing songs. Dat maakt myn zangheldin en zwakke poëzyen Your arms, now by my rude and feeble poetry Onsterfelyk. Wie nu wil leeven door uw stryen, Are made immortal. Who now lives by your victory Moet zingen hoe uw zwaardt… Should sing now how your sword… But then the poet interrupts himself. ‘What is this, what reports hamper my awkward pen?’. The war is far from over. The Swedish villains broke all their oaths and started once again. (…) De pen wil uit myn handt. Een schrikkelyk gerucht bedwelmt het grootst’ verstandt. [I grip my pen in vain. A frightening report benumbs the keenest brain.]

These are the last words of the poem and give it a most striking ending. Vos, of course, might easily have stopped after describing the victory and that would have provided

23 Buitendijk, op. cit., p. 356. 24 Jan Konst, op. cit. (cf. note 7)

176 a patriotic ode similar to the innumerable other ones that were written in the Golden Age. But even in an eulogy like the present one, Vos can and will not desist from showing that the world is nothing but chaos and violence and that a temporary restoration of order is just that and nothing more. All the poet can do is to warn for the misery of revenge and counter-revenge and for the woes of war. But his outlook appears to be extremely pessimistic. For a moment one might think that all efforts, including a great loss of human life have led to a state of peace and quiet, but then the next conflict is already knocking at the door. Whereas Medea would offer to the spectator the comforting thought that in the real world the situation is not that serious and the play just serves as a warning, in this case the real world is described and it proves not to be better at all. Also, art appears to have only a limited effect. The poet warns, points out the consequences and tries to order chaos. The literary hallmark of Vos is the so-called sententia, the moral maxim.25 All his poems prove this abundantly. It is the poet’s ethical weapon. I give some examples from Relief: Wie zich uit nood verweert beschermt zijn wettig recht. [He who defends himself, protects his legal right.] De vrijheid is voor moedt en oorlogkracht te koopen. [Freedom itself is bought by courage and by the power of war.] Inversely, Vos points out, also in aphoristic sentences, how amorality leads to ever darker orgies of inhumanity: Ja wie al lachend durft met eenen dartlen voet Yes, he who laughingly dares with a playful foot Gaan trappelen op ’t hart, en trippelen in ’t bleodt To trample on the heart, or trip in human blood Der menschen, heeft in ’t minst van vreede geen gevoelen. Shows that he goes without peace loving sentiments De dorst der wreedtheidt is niet dan door bloedt te koelen. The thirst for cruelty only by blood is quenched.) And generally speaking: Het oorlog heeft geen wetten. [Warfare is without laws.] So, in spite of all his sententious wisdom, at the end of the day the poet himself is powerless. Small wonder that his pen refuses to write. Still, writing is his only weapon: show the chaos, show the violence, warn against it. And that is what Vos untiringly did, for instance, in his poem on the new Amsterdam Town Hall of 1655.26 After the horrors of the Eighty Years’ War, he portrays the Town hall as a garden of peace where wisdom and justice are reigning. Here, too, the monster of war tries to disturb the peace by threats and the Prince of Darkness tries to stop the building process by fires from hell. In slightly veiled language, the poet also points out that Amsterdam has to endure a lot of envy as proven by the 1650 attack by prince William II. It may not be a complete coincidence that the poem ends with the ‘booming militia guns’. Amster- dam will be unable to do without them. Chaos always lies lurking.

25 The first editor/publisher of his works, Jan van Duisberg, praises his excellence in ‘vaste zinspreucken’ (strong sententiae). Cf. Buitendijk, op. cit., p. 34. 26 Alle de gedichten p. 335–352.

177 Painters, to return to the paragone can also have that dual obligation: showing unbridled viciousness and thereby countering it. This is shown very clearly in a poem, in which Vos, exceptionally, views things from the point of the Christian faith. He shows himself dissatisfied with a picture of the Crucifixion, because the depicted Jesus is much too beautiful and undamaged. There is no point in embellishing evil. If one does, the deep meaning of what is portrayed is obscured. Only if the results of unrestricted evil are shown, compassion and penitence may be aroused.27 To conclude. All human power is directed towards controlling the threatening world around us. The arts, too, have this responsibility and the question which of the arts is best equipped to do so, the paragone, loses much of its importance: all hands on deck is the word. It is within this framework that Jan Vos uses all his knowledge and linguistic skill in his battle against chaos, administering his most important lessons through vivid representations (the rhetoric means of the evidentia), maxims and deterrent examples. If people better recall those lessons when they have seen them, he gladly uses the added possibilities offered by the stage, where seeing supports hearing. By way of contrast I present a short survey of the way Jan Six van Chandelier (1620–1695) looked at the paragone.28 This merchant-poet did not occupy himself with the sister art as intensively as Jan Vos. His approach is that of the average intellectual who is interested in the arts. He knows how and when to use the classical painter’s anecdotes, among his acquaintances are several painters, and, when travelling abroad, he does not pass over the opportunity of having a good look at paintings. He was struck, for instance, by Raphael’s painting of the Fire of Troy that he saw in the Vatican collection (nr. 258); he derived a moral lesson from contemplation of Rubens’ paint- ing showing Cimon and Pero, the daughter who kept her imprisoned father alive by breast-feeding him (nr. 380). Nowhere, however, do we hear him cheering the mirac- ulous gifts painters possess. Even when he seems to bestow a lot of power to the painter in his Portrait of Roselle (nr. 158), he himself firmly keeps control. The painter gets the assignment to transfer on canvas a blason-in-language, as provided by the poet. When the painter has done so, the poet can act like a second Paris and abduct this wonderful Helen and possess her completely – achieving something which in real life he never managed to do, as we know from other poems on Roselle. The poem makes a curious circular move. The poet expresses in language what he sees and wants to see, the painter is the executor of his thoughts, and the beginning of concreteness that the painter can achieve, allows the poet to concretise his desires – be it only in his mind, however. Both painter and poet cannot do more than to try to reach reality from a distance.

27 Buitendijk, op. cit., p. 488. 28 Cf. for his poetics: M. A. Schenkeveld- van der Dussen, De anti-idealistische poetica van een christen- burger (The anti-idealistic poetry of a Christian citizen),. De nieuwe taalgids 76 (1983), pp. 291–316. A modern edition of his poetry with a rich commentary: Ed. A. E. Jacobs, J. Six van Chandelier, Gedichten (Poems). 2 vols. Assen-Maastricht 1991. I quote this edition with the numbers of the poems.

178 For Six van Chandelier is not strongly impressed by his own art, either. In his Ydel ooghmerk van boekschryven (nr. 352) (the vanity of writing books), he ironically remarks: Indien men morgen my If they, tomorrow, should Verkleedt, op stroo, in lykgewaaden, Lay me on straw and have me shrouded, Wat baat, in poësy, What would it help me Gewrocht te hebben Iliaaden? If I had written Iliads? He is, therefore, far from agreeing with Vos on the importance of art. Viewing art as the means to control chaotic reality, or as an attempt to overcome death, is not an idea that Six van Chandelier would take seriously. His views on the value of poetry and painting have been splendidly expressed in his poem on the portrait of his father, Op het kontrefeitsel van myn vaader saaliger (nr. 320). This painting would serve to keep the father alive, as it were, since the victory over death is the function of art, as Vos sees it. Or would it? Like everything on earth, a painting is, after all, perishable. What is to be done when all-devouring Time can no longer be resisted? Once more, the paragone comes in sight. Maar deughtsaamheit op wit papier But virtue, on a paper’s whiteness Beschreeven, met een geestigh vier Described with all the fervent brightness Van dichtery, sterft nimmermeer, Of poetry, dies nevermore. Herdrukt, en onverkleint, van eer. Reprinted with honour galore. Aldus zal, sonder roemery, So shall – no undue claims are laid – De vaader, door de Poësy, The father, through the verses made Van my, syn soone, nooit vergaan. By me, his son, live without end. Want Persius, en Marsus staan. For Persius and Marsus stand. All the appropriate commonplaces are present. Of course, its is pre-eminently the poet’s task to immortalize something as intangible as virtue, and of course, poetry, being independent of matter, easily prevails over the transient visual arts. Small wonder, then, that he, the poet-son will surpass the work of the painter-portraitist. Nothing in the poem warns the reader of the pitfall in the last line. Of the two casually mentioned authors, one, Persius is a satirist – which would give the father little ground for pleasure –, and Marsus is an unknown poet of whose work nothing has survived. This completely changes the tenor: none of the arts, painting nor poetry is able to hold their own against death and destruction. In this way the paragone is declared pointless. What remains is the Kingdom of God. Wie eeuwigh leeven soekt, Who seeks everlasting life, Wroet niet, in slyk van sterflike aarde. should not root in the dirt of transient earth. D’aarde is ten brand vervloekt. The earth is deemed to fire. Gods Heemel is des leevens gaarde. God’s heaven is life’s safe enclosure. With these lines Ydel ooghmerk van boekschryven ends. So we have seen two poets from Golden Age Amsterdam, each with his own view on art. One attaches great value to it. He expects, or maybe rather hopes, art to be able to support man in the chaotic reality of this world. Art may serve as a defence against destruction and death. The other one does not hold painting or poetry in such high

179 esteem. Both arts are earth-bound and cannot rise above earthly things. He, who seeks everlasting life, should turn to God. My conclusion is that it may be wise not to attach too much value to the paragone. I came to the same conclusion in 1991, but then mainly on cultural-sociological grounds: the two types of artists hardly competed financially and could afford to be generous.29 I now could add some poetical and ideological considerations.

29 Maria A. Schenkeveld, Dutch Literature in the Age of Rembrandt. Amsterdam-Philadelphia 1991, pp. 134– 135.

180 ACTA UNIVERSITATIS PALACKIANAE OLOMUCENSIS FACULTAS PHILOSOPHICA NEERLANDICA II – 2003

Beggars and Vagrants in the Literary and Pictorial Oeuvre of Adriaen van de Venne (1589–1662)

Marc Van Vaeck (Catholic University of Louvain)

1. Biographical sketch of Adriaen van de Venne from Cornelis Meyssens’ Image de divers hommes desprit divin (Antwerp, 1649) (C. de Bie, Het gulden Cabinet van de edel vry schilderconst 2. Adriaen van de Venne, Poor Wealth [Antwerp, 1661–1662]) (panel, 25×33 cm, grisaille painting, 1631) (Photo: Univ. Library Louvain) (residence unknown) In Meyssens’ Image de divers hommes desprit divin (Antwerp, 1649) the first biographic sketch of Adriaen van de Venne was published (figure 1). The seventeenth century artist, who worked first in Middelburgh and later – from 1625 on – in the court-capital The Hague, was remembered as “un excellent paintre en blanc et noijr” – a painter of grisailles – and as a good poet (“un bon poete”).1 As a painter of grisailles

1 C. de Bie, Het gulden cabinet van de edel vry schilderconst (The golden cabinet of the noble free art of painting). Introduction G. Lemmens (Soest 1971), p. 235.

181 he became the object of very revealing art historical research. These paintings gener- ally show extremely bizarre representations of beggars, “paupers, boors, or vagrants from the bottom of the social hierarchy, or rather outside the structure of civic life” (figure 2).2 At first sight, Van de Venne’s literary oeuvre appears as a counterpart of his pictorial art.

Beggars and vagrants in Van de Venne’ Belacchende Werelt: in the light of recreational literature Van de Venne’s main literary work, the sometimes rather obscure Tafereel van de Belacchende Werelt [Scene of the Laughable World] (The Hague, 1635) (figure 3), offers an extensive and caleidoscopic image of the bottom of seventeenth century society.3 The simple frame story introduces a few young peasants (couples of boys and girls) visiting the famous fair in The Hague: Tamme Lubbert, Fijtje Goris, Lammert Gijsen and Soetje Strijckers (figure 4).

3. Adriaen van de Venne, Tafereel van de Belacchende Werelt 4. Adriaen van de Venne, Tafereel van de (The Hague, 1635), frontispiece Belacchende Werelt (The Hague, 1635), p. 5 (Photo: University Library Louvain) (Photo: University Library Louvain)

2 M. Westermann, Adriaen van de Venne, Jan Steen, and the art of serious play, in: De zeventiende eeuw, 15 (1999), 34–47, esp. p. 42. 3 For an edition and an extensive study of the Belacchende Werelt, see M. Van Vaeck, Adriaen van de Vennes Tafereel van de Belacchende Werelt (Den Haag, 1635). 3 vols. (Diss. Gent, 1994).

182 What they see is caleidoscopic indeed, the number of vagrants is impressive: Vendors of nuts and cakes, acrobats, fortune-tellers and quacks all trigger off digressions. Fortune tellers provide extensive advice on courting and marriage. Two pickpockets present a list of slang and a large amount of swindler’s tricks and introduce the so-called “kramerstaal”, still known by children. There is a book shop and a picture shop, the citizen’s militia is marching, etc. There is nearly no theme in the sixteenth and early seventeenth century comic and satiric tradition which does not appear, often accompanied by an engraving: the figure of “Jan Hen”, the smoking of tobacco, the boat of Saint “Reynuit” [Saint Clean Out, or Broke], the grinder of heads, the fight over the trousers or the seven vices in the shape of animals.4 Remarkably, some parts of Van de Venne’s text dealing with vagrants were borrowed and adapted5 from volumes that are generally considered as so-called “popular litera- ture”: they are produced in haste, on cheap paper and with an old type case, and they are intended for a quick sale on a broad market (Pleij).6 The very long advice on marriage by the fortune tellers (p. 79–89) is e.g. an adaptation of a sixteenth or early seventeenth centu- ry Dutch edition of Die Evangelien Vanden Spinrocken [The Gospel of the Distaff], an originally French text (Les évangiles des quenouilles) which trav- elled all over Europe in all kinds of adaptions and translations.7 Also the other old collection of secrets, Den sack der Consten [The Book of Secrets], which could in the seventeenth century still be found in the bookshop, was a source of inspiration.8 Van de Venne did not invent the remarkable list of slang himself either (pp. 133–36), called in the text the “Gielers Vocabulaer” [The Vocabulary of Beggars] (figure 5), nor did he in- vent the long and astonishing enumer- ation (pp. 145–54) of no less than 5. Adriaen van de Venne, Tafereel van de forty-two different kinds of beggars (fig- Belacchende Werelt (The Hague, 1635), p. 133 ure 6), or the also very extensive list of (Photo: University Library Louvain)

4 Quoted in translation after M. Spies in Spiegel der Letteren 37 (1995), 239–43, esp. pp. 242–43. 5 See M. van Vaeck, Adriaen van de Vennes “Tafereel van de Belacchende Werelt” (note 3), vol. 3, p. 773–803. 6 H. Pleij (ed.), Van schelmen en schavuiten. Laatmiddeleeuwse vagebondtekten (About rascals and rogues. Late medieval picaresque texts), Amsterdam 1985, p. 106. 7 See M. van Vaeck, Adriaen van de Vennes Tafereel van de Belacchende Werelt (Den Haag, 1635) (note 3), vol. 3, p. 776–82 and the literature mentioned there. 8 Ibidem, p. 776–77.

183 people destined to be taken by the boat of Saint-Reynuyt (patron saint of lazy- bones) to the poor house (p. 158–66) (figure 7). These two pseudo-explorato- ry texts on beggars (Vandenbroeck)9 are an adaptation by Van de Venne of a small volume in Dutch of 1613, Der Fielen Ra- bauwen, Bedelaren (Ofte der Schalcken) Vocabulaer [The Vocabulary of Thieves]. It contains not only Dutch transla- tions of texts of the early sixteenth cen- tury Liber vagatorum, which was very successful in Europe, but also a Dutch adaptation of an originally late fifteenth century French text on the Spital House, namely Robert de Balsacs Le droit chemin de lhopital.10 Van de Venne’s book, the Belac- chende Werelt, is also striking in another respect. All over the volume, Van de 6. Adriaen van de Venne, Tafereel van de Venne’s texts are in a very fascinating Belacchende Werelt (The Hague, 1635), p. 145 (Photo: University Library Loubain) way larded with and – in the margins – accompanied by an endless number of sayings and proverbs that function as comments, confirmations, denials or modifica- tions of what is being said.11 His texts on the beggars work in just such a fashion. The language is often difficult because of the numerous accumulations of obscure and idiomatic neologisms and invectives. And that is precisely the reason why the Amster- dam literary historian Marijke Spies in 1995 called Van de Venne’s book a kind of cult book for the modern reader.12 However idiosyncratic Van de Venne’s literary work may be, his representations of beggars closely fit in with popular pictural and literary traditions. I am referring here to representations in which grotesques and deceit prevail: beggars are distorted as an extreme representation of turpitudo and deformitas. They are introduced as being very adept at disguising and hiding limbs in order to arouse humble compassion. They know slang and their existence revolves around deceiving their fellow man. The literature and iconography in which these elements occur was already wide-spread from the fifteenth century onwards. For a long time, historiography was trying to discover a compelling connection between the literary and visual representation of the beggar and his actual occurrence

9 P. Vandenbroeck, Jheronimus Bosch. Tussen volksleven en stadscultuur (Hieronymus Bosch. Between the life of the people and the urban culture), Berchem 1987. 10 See M. van Vaeck, Adriaen van de Vennes Tafereel van de Belacchende Werelt (note 3), vol. 3, p. 783–803. 11 Ibidem, p. 804–825. 12 M. Spies in Spiegel der Letteren (note 4), p. 243.

184 in early modern Europe. The way in which the 1966 Amsterdam exposition Arm in de Gouden Eeuw [The Poor in the Golden Age] was conceived is very characteristic in this respect. In her introduction to the catalogue, Marijke Kok links Van de Venne’s series of beggars and the vagabond tricks he describes, directly to the – and I quote in translation – “at the time major problem of beggars, vagabonds and looting soldiers”.13 And the Amsterdam cultural historian Van Deursen states in his Kopergeld van de Gouden Eeuw [Copper Coins of the Golden Age] that Van de Venne describes beggars’ lives along the road on the basis of observation, experience and empathy.14 Historical-anthropological and socio-economic research, however, has come up with other conclusions. It can probably be partially documented that real- life beggars actually knew gim- micks and were organised in groups, but the image given in the art of these beggars cannot be used as a reliable source for the reconstruction of the contem- porary reality.15 Fact and fiction are in this case categories that are hardly workable. They are certainly not adequate, and modern historiography prefers to interpret these images as views of reality that are determined by stereotypes (Burke). The origin and rise of the theme and stereo- type of beggars and the way in which both are elaborated are being linked to – and I quote in translation – an “urban-civil early modern ideology about labour and the structure of social networks”: a coherent collection of views on 7. Adriaen van de Venne, Tafereel van de Belacchende “work ethics and sociability” Werelt (Vandenbroeck).16 The burgher, (The Hague, 1635), p. 158

13 Quoted in translation after Arm in de gouden eeuw. Exhibition catalogue. Amsterdams Historisch Museum. Waaggebouw. Nieuwmarkt (Amsterdam, 1966), p. 5. 14 A.Th. van Deursen, Het kopergeld van de Gouden Eeuw. I. Het dagelijks brood. Assen/Amsterdam 1978, p. 72. 15 P. Vandenbroeck, Jheronimus Bosch (note 9), p. 47. See on this topic a.o. P. Burke, Historical Anthropology in Early Modern Italy, Cambridge 1987, chapter 6. 16 Quoted in translation after P. Vandenbroeck, Over wilden en narren, boeren en bedelaars. Beeld van de andere, vertoog over het zelf. Antwerpen 1987, p. 117.

185 first and foremost, disapproves of, in the beggar, the behaviour his own class considers unacceptable, a type of behaviour that is (sometimes traditionally) attributed to beggars. We are dealing here with a process of ideological separation, a negative self- definition resulting in a view of “the other one” which is at the same time an argument about oneself. This was demonstrated in Vandenbroeck’s famous exposition Over wilden en narren, boeren en bedelaars [About wild men and fools, peasants and beggars] (1987). This line of thinking has certain consequences for the way in which historians of art and literature generally interpret sixteenth and seventeenth century representations of beggars. They consider them in the first place as satires in which the beggar is not so much the object of the satire but rather the means by which the satire is constructed. Moreover, the vices that constitute the type “beggar” (the complete antipode of the norms and values shared by the bourgeois public) are held up to this public as didactic exempla contraria. A moralising satire of this kind does not invite a noncommittal laugh. The presentation of ridicula with a didactic purpose is all important.17 Van de Venne’s Tafereel van de Belacchende Werelt and the way in which beggars are represented and - in the margins - commented on by an omniscient narrator seem to support this interpretation. The list of slang e. g. is in the margins introduced at length, in a very grave manner. It is being argued that this alphabetical list can help the burghers, these good and generous givers (“goede, milde Gevers”, p. 134), to under- stand and remember these obscure, deceitful and veiled words (“duystere, doddige momme-woorden”, p. 134) and – as a result – arm themselves against the tricks of beggars (“om zo alle onbeschofte Lock-Brocken hun flinck-slagen (…) weder-staen”, p. 134). The catalogue of forty-two different kinds of beggars serves a similar purpose. It can assist the pious, industrious, free and just Dutchmen (“vroome, neerstige, eer- dragende, vrye, kloecke, recht-schaffighe Hollanders”, p. 145) in exposing the lazy, cunning and dishonourable scum (“ter ontblootinghe van alle de leuye, listige, Eerloose Wapper-lappigen Wt-schot”, p. 145). It helps them to understand the dishonourable practices of filthy tramps, quick thugs or scruffy beggars who use God’s name in vain out of greed (“de onsuyvere Landt-beschoyers, ende rappe Rabauwen, ofte slordighe Béé- Boeven, die tot hun graegh gebruyck schendichlijck Godes Naem mis-bruycken”, p. 148). One can now take precautions against unexpected attacks by these people (“wanneer, of nu, of dan, aenval gheschiet van Arm-jammer”, p. 149). Even Van de Venne’s enumeration of all the persons who have already set off for the ship of Reyn-uyt (“die alreede den aen-vanck hebben ghedaen om te geraken in de Boot van Reyn-uyt”, p. 158) fits in well with the intended function mentioned in the source text: to help you avoid following the road of the beggars or the road to the hospice, the poor house (“om u selven te wachten uyt den wech der bedelaren oft den Gasthuysen”).18

17 Compare e. g. with the famous discussion between Alpers and Miedema on representations of festive peasants: S. Alpers, Bruegel’s festive peasants, Simiolus 6 (1972–1973) 163–76; S. Alpers, Realism as a comic mode: low-life painting seen through Bredero’s eyes, Simiolus 8 (1975–1976) 115–44; H. Miedema, Realism and comic mode: the peasant, Simiolus 9 (1977) 205–219; S. Alpers, Taking pictures seriously: a reply to Hessel Miedema, Simiolus 10 (1978–1979) 46–50. See also P. Vandenbroeck, Verbeeck’s peasant weddings: a study of iconography and social function, Simiolus 14 (1984) 79–124. 18 Der Fielen (…) Vocabulaer (Haerlem: Vincent Casteleyn and Daniel de Keyser, 1613).

186 The popularity of volumes such as the Der Fielen (…) Vocabulaer, Die Evangelien vanden Spinrocken or Den sack der Consten was immense, and it is very probable that the average contemporary reader of Van De Venne realised that the author borrowed or adapted parts of these texts. For this reason, one may question the serious manner in which these texts are introduced in the Belacchende Werelt. The texts Van de Venne borrowed or adapted belong to the so-called popular literature that often presents itself as light and entertaining reading. A number of phrases in the paratexts such as “tijtcortinghe” [pastime], “tot recreatie” [relaxation] or “ghenoechlijc” [pleasant] clearly demonstrate the essential function of these volumes as relaxatio animi.19 Den sack der Consten should certainly be considered as a specimen of this type of literature. In seventeenth century editions this text is invariably introduced as a means of dispersing gloomy thoughts (“om te vermaken die sware sinnen”).20 The Evangelien vanden spinrocken must have had this function as well. In a late fifteenth century mystery play performed in Rouen, le livre des Quenouilles, is mentioned in a scene that was inserted “pour récréer joyeusement l’esprit des auditeurs”.21 One of the reasons is the carnivalesque inversion that also appears in the title page of the Dutch editions of the Gospel of the Distaff: the volume was allegedly revised by many learned women (“veel gheleerde vrouwen”) and is presented to the men as a useful and great present (“den mannen tot een constich ende groot present”).22 At first sight, it does not seem easy to characterize the source texts Van de Venne borrowed from the Dutch version of the Liber Vagatorum (viz. the slang, the list of beggars and their tricks and the enumeration of the people who are already heading for the poorhouse) as comic, amusing or relaxing. The paratexts that accompany these pseudo-informative texts take a pragmatic point of view and focus on the utilitas: slang is taught and scoundrels’ tricks are exposed in order to instruct the reader: “opdat elck [hem] daer voor wachten soude”.23 Thus, the texts are very useful reading for every- body: “seer nut ende profijtelijck om lesen, voor alle menschen”. And yet, one can question the serious mode in which these texts are introduced in the Dutch Liber vagatorum. The best argument can be derived from the text (on Reyn-uyt) about the Spital House, which apparently functioned as a mocking text. It does not only appear in the Dutch versions of the Liber Vagatorum, but also in collections with telling titles such as e.g. the Veelderhande geneuchlijcke dichten [Many pleasant poems], a volume

19 Y. G. Vermeulen, “Tot profijt en genoegen”. Motiveringen voor de produktie van Nederlandstalige gedrukte teksten 1477–1540 (For profit and pleasure. Motifs in the production of Dutch printed texts 1477–1540), Groningen 1986, pp. 195–209. 20 See e. g. Braekman’s transcription of the title pages of the varous known editions of Den sack der Consten: W. L. Braekman (ed.), Den Sack der Consten. Een Vlaams volksboek, gereproduceerd naar de Antwerpse druk van Jacob van Liesvelt uit 1528, ingeleid door W.L. Braekman (The Book of Secrets. A Flemish people’s book, reproduced after the Antwerp printing of Jacob van Liesvelt of 1528; Bruges s.a.), pp. 16– 23. 21 M. Jeay, La popularité des ‘Evangiles des Quenouilles’: un paradoxe révélateur, in: Renaissance et Réforme, 18 (1982), p. 166–82, esp. p. 167–68. 22 Die Evangelien, Vanden Spinrock wilt aenscouwen (Antwerp: Jan van Ghelen, s.a.). 23 Der Fielen (…) Vocabulaer (note 18), title page.

187 which was issued a few times around 1600 and once again in 1647.24 It is clear that this type of volume aims at the relaxatio animi. Nearly all the texts in the Veelderhande geneuchlijcke dichten are characterized as pleasant (“ghenoechlijck”) or, more often, very pleasant reading (“seer ghenoechlijck om te lesen”). This goes for a play about a drunkard and his wife, a play for Shrove Tuesday or a ballad about the Gospel of the Distaff. And so, part of the repertoire in this volume is also the text about the Spital House which appears in the Dutch Liber Vagatorum as well. The same text also appears in another edition issued circa 1640 in the Northern Netherlands, called De Vermakelijckheyt selfs [The Essence of Entertainment], a collection of pleasant texts (“ghenoeghelijckheden”) intended for everyone who prefers laughing over crying: “alles seer aerdigh en kluchtigh voor- gestelt” and “gedruckt voor alle de gene die liever lacchen dan schreyen”.25 Volumes such as De Vermakelijck- heyt selfs also supply the arguments needed to characterize the other texts from the Liber Vagatorum as amusing light reading. De Vermakelijckheyt selfs e. g. contains a prose dialogue between the questioning Nick and the answer- ing John (“De vragende Klaes and d’antvvoordende Ian”).26 Their conver- sation is an adaptation of the list of scoundrels’ tricks as it appears e. g. in Van de Venne: it refers to the names (their “vreemde Namen”) and the cun- ning gimmicks of the many beggars in Holland, Brabant and Germany (“de listighe Bedriegeryen der verscheyde Be- delaren, welcke haer selven soo in Hol- landt, Brabant, als Duytslandt zijn onthoudenden”).27 The dialogue struc- 8. Adriaen van de Venne, Tafereel van de ture probably goes back to a similar Belacchende Werelt (The Hague, 1635), p. 138 text in the Veelderhande geneuchlijcke (Photo: University Library Louvain) dichten.28

24 See Veelderhande geneuchlijcke dichten, tafelspelen ende refereynen. opnieuw uitgegeven vanwege de Maat- schappij der Nederlandsche Letterkunde te Leiden (Many pleasant poems, plays and refrains, edited anew by the Society of Dutch Literature in Leyden), Leyden 1899, introduction. 25 De Vermakelijckheyt selfs, Ofte Alle-Mans Gadingh, Bestaende in dese achter-een-volghende Genoeghelijck- heden (S.l., s. a). On this volume: M. van Vaeck, Adriaen van de Vennes Tafereel van de Belacchende Werelt (note 3), vol. 3, p. 795–97 and 800. 26 De Vermakelijckheyt selfs (note 25), p. 41–46. 27 Ibidem, p. 41. 28 Veelderhande geneuchlijcke dichten (note 24). See on this topic M. van Vaeck, Adriaen van de Vennes Tafereel van de Belacchende Werelt (note 3), vol. 3, p. 795–97.

188 Catalogues of beggars’ tricks seem to function in early modern Europe as a source of amusement. In the collection of articles Historical anthropology in early modern Italy: essays on perception and communication (1987) Peter Burke deals with several interrogations that would have been formulated in Rome around 1595. The two men who were questioned (Pompeo and Girolamo) mention several different fraternities of thugs and beggars, each with its own tricks and organised and structured as a guild. The title of the reports of these interviews is very significant: Il dilettevole essamine de guidoni, furfanti o calci [An amusing interrogation of scoundrels].29 Van de Venne apparently put a great effort into integrating these source texts in this “texte-hôte”,30 the Belacchende Werelt, in a still more amusing way. In the original Die Evangelien vanden Spinrocken e. g. several sayings of the female narrators are countered by a gloss from a person in the audience. Van de Venne shortens or rather replaces these glosses with terse, aphoristic sayings that have a comic, ironic, some- times even absurdist effect. In the original text, the list of slang is described as vocabulary to speak “Rotwelsch” or thieves’ slang (“eenen Vocabulaer om root walsch oft Aragoens te quisten. Oft om coopmans Latijn te spreken”), or to speak dog Latin, in Dutch “kramerslatijn” (i. e. Latin spoken by hawkers). Precisely this concept of dog Latin is elaborated by Van de Venne into a second list of words, the so-called “Kramers-Tael” (hawkers’ slang: “een nieuwe Koomens-Tael van Kramers achter-Landt”) (figure 8). This is a language based on the letter K: every syllable is repeated after the introduction of the letter K. Thus a rather obscure language is created which is however for the iniated quite clear and very amusing. Amusement is indeed the first aim – “het is een vermakent praetje” (p. 137) – though it is also mentioned that the hawkers’ slang was added to the book in order to avoid deceit (“Om sich van alle Bedodderyen te verhoeden”, p. 141). The amusement is increased even more when one notices the choice of words and the structure of the sentences, made up of words that begin with the same letter. In this manner, very amusing sentences are created such as “Cloeke, clare cockjes coolen, connen crabben clam cooken” [a good fire in a neat kitchen can handle crabs well] (p. 138–39) or “Foy! Fop fool fijne frisse fijmel Flobje” [Shame! Fop is having a romp with that nice and lively girl Flobje] (p. 139) or the final sentence “Zoo zy zuyr zuygen, zotten zijnt” [only the fools don’t like this] (p. 143). This is a constant element in Van de Venne’s poetics, viz. his major preoccupation with witty language created mainly by an original and comic use of words and images. A few of his comic strategies are exhaustively enumerative accumulations of neolo- gisms or invectives, a consistent use of monosyllabic or disyllabic words or a concentrated playing with homonyms. The characters in de Belacchende Werelt also notice this special attention to language and sometimes expressions are used such as “Tonge-spel” (p. 138), “vloeyent daver-becken” (p. 370) or “knoddig tongh-getater”, which is listened to “mit geschater” [with laughter] (p. 73).31

29 P. Burke, Historical Anthropology (note 15), chapter 6. 30 M. Jeay, La popularité des ‘Evangiles des Quenouilles’ (note 21), p. 167. 31 See M. van Vaeck, Adriaen van de Vennes Tafereel van de Belacchende Werelt (note 3), vol. 3, p. 828.

189 Van de Venne’s selection and adaptation of the source texts mentioned in this article fits in closely here. My intention is not to emphasise in the first place the fact that the deceit of the beggars is to an important extent based on their inventive language, but rather the strongly enumerative and accumulating effect of the texts adapted for the Belacchende Werelt by Van de Venne. This aspect is often even more accentuated than in the source text. A good example is e. g. the Saint Reyn-uyt or Spital House text that adapts the original prose text by means of stringent anaphoric constructions. Up until now, I have tried to show in what way Van de Venne has explicitly brought up in his Belacchende Werelt the deceitful world of the beggars, viz. by means of well- known texts which had been wide-spread already for some time in several popular formats. Van de Venne skilfully integrates these texts in a volume that is more concerned with relaxation and amusement, often concentrating on original language, than with exposing the flaws of the world. The comic adaptation of the theme of the beggars presents in this way a completely idiosyncratic counterpart of the “discours” on the early modern work ethos, though it also borrowed its standards and also its humour from it. To put it in a different way, once the comic images of beggars were represented they started leading a life of their own explicitly. They functioned as amusement first, not so much as an exhortation. They constitute an idiosyncratic variant of a “serio-comic art” inspired by humanism. In this respect, my argument is in agreement with the way in which art history has drawn attention in recent times to the comic effect of Van de Venne’s pictorial representations of beggars. I am not referring here to the large retrospectives such as The Glory of the Golden Age (2000),32 in which Van de Venne is presented as an exponent of Bols’ so-called Middelburgh Breughel group,33 but to those studies that focus on Van de Venne’s idiosyncratic monochrome grisaille and brunaille paintings, the “grauwtjes” or “little gray ones” (most grisailles are only forty centimetres by thirty).34 Van de Venne’s grisaille paintings with beggars: within the tradition of the serio ludere or painted paradoxical encomia? Plokker’s partial oeuvre catalogue (1984),35 some detail studies of Van Vaeck (1988 and 1994)36 and the recent articles by Mariët Westermann (1999)37 concentrate on the

32 J. Kiers and F. Tissink, De glorie van de Gouden Eeuw. Nederlandse kunst uit de 17de eeuw. Schilderijen, beeldhouwkunst en kunstnijverheid (The Glory of the Golden Age. Dutch art of the 17th century. Paintings, sculpture and applied art). Zwolle/Amsterdam 2000, pp. 40–41. 33 L. J. Bol, Een Middelburgse Brueghel-groep. VII–VIII. Adriaen Pietersz. van de Venne, schilder en teyckenaer (A Middelburgh Brueghel group. VII–VIII. Adriaen Pietersz. van de Venne, painter and draughtsman), Oud-Holland 73 (1958), p. 59–79 and p. 128–147. On the Middelburgh Brueghel group, see L. J. Bol’s articles in the periodical Oud-Holland 70–74 (1955–1959). Later on, Bol publishes on Van de Venne in Tableau 5 (1982) – 6 (1984, nr. 5. These contributions were also published as L. J. Bol, Adriaen Pietersz. van de Venne. Painter and Draughtsman, Doornspijk 1989. 34 See infra. 35 A. Plokker, Adriaen Pietersz. van de Venne (1589–1662). De grisailles met spreukbanden (Adriaen Pietersz. van de Venne (1589–1662). The grisailles with mottos), Louvain/Amersfoort 1984.

190 very explicit linguistic and visual play in Van de Venne’s grisailles and situate them in a tradition of “seriocomic pictures in an Erasmian vein”, characterised by “sported wit, ambiguity, and a certain folksy humor” (Westermann).38 Westermann however goes one step further than Plokker and Van Vaeck and links the grisaille paintings explicitly to the tradition of the paradoxical encomium. I would like to dwell upon her specific views in this respect. Westermann’s articles from 1999 build on her earlier research (1997) with regard to the oeuvre of Jan Steen and its relation to comic painting in the seventeenth century.39 In her doctoral dissertation from 1997, Westermann argued very convinc- ingly that “literary and pictorial comedy” are “cognate but divergent genres” (p. 89). “Paintings [according to Westermann] may have participated in a literary culture of laughter”, but this view need not to result in a frenetic search for “close correspondenc- es between comic texts and paintings” (p. 111). The reason is obvious: “Texts and images (…) slip and slide alongside each other” (p. 102). Westermann concentrates in the first place on the “thematic correspondences” between both art forms and on the way in which “texts and images make their subjects laughable” (p. 112). These points of departure not only guarantee a fertile approach to Steen’s oeuvre, but are also interesting for the pictorial representations of beggars by Adriaen van de Venne, according to Westermann “Steen’s most influential comic predecessor”.40 It is remarkable that Westermann, holding these views, links, in her articles on Van de Venne, the grisailles so often and nearly unconditionally to the so-called paradoxical or ironic encomium, which is pre-eminently a literary and highly rhetorical genre. This genre consisted of well-chosen and lengthy eulogies on matters generally considered to be condemnable (genus turpe) or on matters considered low, inferior or insignifi- cant (genus humile). The ingenious treatment (ornatio) of similar subjects in an, often noncommittal, argumentatio guarantees wit (serio ludere) and an effect of surprise (novitas), and it is for this reason not surprising that this classical genre (that was used as a school exercise for a long time) was a trendsetter for a real craze in humanist circles. (Erasmus’ Laus stutitiae was undoubtedly the most famous example of this genre).41

36 M. van Vaeck, Adriaen van de Venne and his Use of Homonymy as a Device in the Emblematical Process of a Bimedial Genre, Emblematica 3 (1988) 101–119 and Vonken van hoogdravende wijsheid. Over spreek- woordschilderijen (Sparks of grandiloquent wisdom. About proverbial paintings), Kunstschrift 5 (1994) 17–23. 37 M. Westermann, Adriaen van de Venne, Jan Steen (note 2) and “Fray en Leelijck. Adriaen van de Venne’s Invention of the Ironic Grisaille”, in: R. Falkenburg, J. de Jong, D. Meijers, B. Ramakers and M. Westermann (ed.), Kunst voor de markt. Art for the market 1500–1700, (=Nederlands kunsthistorisch jaarboek 1999, vol 50) (Zwolle, 2000), pp. 221–257. 38 Quoted after M. Westermann, Adriaen van de Venne, Jan Steen (note 2), pp. 42 and 44. 39 M. Westermann, The Amusements of Jan Steen. Comic Painting in the Seventeenth Century. Zwolle 1997. 40 Ibidem, p. 110. 41 On the paradoxical or ironic encomium, see a.o.: A. Hauffen, Zur Litteratur der ironischen Enkomien, Vierteljahrschrift für Literaturgeschichte 6 (1893) 161–79; A.S. Pease, Things without honour, Classical Philology, 21 (1926) 27–42; H. K. Miller, The paradoxical encomium with special reference to its vogue in England, 1600–1800, Modern philology 53 (1955–1956) 145–78; R.L. Colie, Paradoxia epidemica. The Renaissance Tradition of Paradox, Princeton 1966; M.G.M. van der Poel, De Declamatio bij de humanisten.

191 Van de Venne’s grisailles, especially the ones with text banderoles, are interpreted by Westermann as “a brillant pictorial equivalent of (…) [this] ancient rhetorical figure”42 as a result of the “sophisticated integration of medium [the grisaille technique], image and text”.43 The artist “create[d] versions of the paradoxical encomium in paint”44 and the grisailles would have been understood in this way: “Van de Venne’s canniest viewers surely perceived their affinity with the literary encomium of the unworthy”.45 An impetus to this vision was given in 1966 by the literary historian Rosalie L. Colie. In her study Paradoxia epidemica. The Renaissance Tradition of Paradox she suggested that the ancient genre of the still life “deliberately flaunted high classical ideas of art”46 and “that in this respect there was a striking parallel with the rhetorical figure of the ‘paradoxical encomium’”.47 “See[ing] through the art” was considered by Colie as one of the basic structures of the literary paradoxical encomium.48 Colie’s ideas were adopted in 1989 by Reindert Falkenburg and elaborated in a later article in 1995, now with respect to the still life paintings by the Dutch painter Pieter Aertsen (1507–1575).49 Here the rhetorical figure of the paradoxical eulogy is understood “as the generic principle” for Aertsen’s still life paintings.50 Looking at the matter from all sides, Falkenburg argues “that Aertsen conceived of his paintings (…) not as direct pictorial translations (…) but as counterparts, as pictorial kin to literary paradoxical eulogies”.51 And the affinity appears to reside first and foremost in the fact that both art forms “depend on existing formulae for high form; in both cases they imitate an elevated modus”.52

Bijdrage tot de studie van de functies van de rhetorica in de Renaissance, Nieuwkoop 1987, pp. 199–205; A. H. Tomarken, The Smile of Truth. The French Satirical Eulogy and Its Antecedents, Princeton 1990. On the paradoxical encomium in Dutch literature, see M. Spies, “’Ick moet wonder schrijven’: het paradoxale lofdicht bij de leden van de Eglentier”, in: H. Duits, A.J. Gelderblom and M. B. Smits-Veldt (ed.), Eer is het Lof des Deuchts. Opstellen voor F. Veenstra (Honour is the praise of virtue. Essays for F. Veenstra), Amsterdam 1986, pp. 43–51 and J. E. Verlaan and E. K. Grootes (ed.), Dirck Pietersz. Pers, Suyp-Stad of Dronckaerts Leven. Tekstuitgave met inleiding en aantekeningen, Culemborg 1978. See also R. Veenmand (ed.), Daniel Heinsius, Laus pediculi. Lof van de luis (The praise of the louse), Voorthuizen 2000. 42 M. Westermann, Adriaen van de Venne, Jan Steen (note 2), p. 39. 43 M. Westermann, “Fray en Leelijck” (note 37), p. 246. 44 Ibidem, p. 246. 45 M. Westermann, Adriaen van de Venne, Jan Steen (note 2), p. 47. 46 R. L. Colie, Paradoxia epidemica (note 41), p. 276. 47 R. L. Falkenburg, “Pieter Aertsen, Rhyparographer”, in: J. Koopmans, M. A. Meadow, K. Meerhoff and M. Spies, Rhetoric – Rhétoriqueurs – Rederijkers, Amsterdam/New York/Tokyo 1995, pp. 197–217, esp. p. 214). 48 R. L. Colie, Paradoxia epidemica (note 41), p. 274. 49 R. L. Falkenburg, “‘Alter Einoutos’: over de aard en herkomst van Pieter Aertsens stilleven-conceptie” (About the character and the origin of Pieter Aertsen’s still life concept), in: W. Kloek and G. Lemmens (ed.), Pieter Aertsen (=Netherlands Yearbook for History of Art 1989, vol. 40) (The Hague 1990), p. 41–66 and R. L. Falkenburg, ‘Pieter Aertsen, Rhyparographer’ (noot 47). 50 R. L. Falkenburg, ‘Pieter Aertsen, Rhyparographer’ (noot 47), p. 197. 51 Ibidem, p. 215. 52 Ibidem, p. 215.

192 Thinking in the same manner, Westermann now interprets in Van de Venne’s grisailles “the medium as the message, or at least a significant part of it”.53 “The grisaille medium [still according to Westermann] constituted much of the attraction” and fits in very easily in “the venerable history of Netherlandish monochrome painting”: the pictori- al technique suggests an “elevated modus”.54 Westermann particularly links Van de Venne’s grisailles with banderoles with the paradoxical encomium: “Van de Venne’s novel combination of low theme, ambiguously ironic inscription and seemingly casual virtuosity mimics the formal characteristics and functions of this ancient exercise”,55 the paradoxical encomium. I am however wondering whether this literary genre is not being too casually applied to a first and foremost pictorial genre. The paradoxical encomium (which is of course a historical term for a mocking eulogy) does indeed deal with low or even reprehensible subjects, but they are presented by means of the specific rhetorical strategies of the sublime epideictic genre, which actually constitutes its paradoxical, or rather ironic nature. Precisely this technical, rhetorical virtuosity dissolves in Wester- mann’s argument into “seemingly casual virtuosity”. One wonders whether the strategies that are being used are similar, or whether the effects produced by these strategies in each art form are similar. Van de Venne’s pictorial representations of beggars, which are part of a honourable tradition of monochrome grisaille paintings, may have been perceived as paradoxal or ironic, but this does not imply that they are versions in paint of the paradoxical encomia. Or how “texts and images (…) slip and slide alongside each other”. It appears from the rest of the studies of Falkenburg that there was a current pictorial term referring to these kind of paintings: rhyparographia, or painting of low, humble or even despicable matters. This term is e.g. applied by Plinius to the Greek painter Piraeicus. The latter had achieved great fame with his paintings of barbers and cobblers shops, donkeys, food and similar things.56 Falkenburg57 even quotes in this respect a very revealing passage by Hadrianus Junius’ note on Pieter Aertsen in his Batavia of 1588: [Pieter Aertsen] quem Pyreïco Plinii comparare iure, […] qui ex proposito, vt apparet, humilia penicillo secutus, humilitatis summam adeptus est omnium iudicio gloriam, ac propterea rhyparographos cognomine cum illo [Piraeico] pariter insigniri, vel me arbitro, potest, vsquead- eo in operibus illius vbique relucet gratia quaedam, expresso elegantissimè in rusticanis puellis corporis filo habituque, obsonijs, oleribus, mactatis pullis, anatibus, asellis, piscibusque alijs, culinario denique instrumento omni, ita praeter consummatum voluptatem, infinita etiam varietate, tabulae ipsius oculos nunquam satiant: quo fit vt pluris eae veneant, quŕm multorum accuratae maximaeque.58

53 M. Westermann, ‘Fray en Leelijck’ (note 37), p. 244. 54 Ibidem, p. 239 55 Ibidem, p. 246. 56 Plinius, Naturalis Historia 35,112. See also R. L. Falkenburg, “‘Alter Einoutos’” (note 49) and “Pieter Aertsen, Rhyparographer” (note 47), p. 202. 57 R. L. Falkenburg, “‘Alter Einoutos’” (note 49), p. 63 and R. L. Falkenburg, “Pieter Aertsen, Rhyparogra- pher” (note 47), p. 202. 58 H. Junius, Batavia. In qua praeter gentis & insulae antiquitatem, originem, decora, mores, aliàque ad eam historiam pertinentia (Leiden, 1588), pp. 239–240.

193 [In my [Junius’] opinion one can compare him [Pieter Aertsen] (…) to Piraeicus (…). He apparently set himself to paint humble things and he has, in everyone’s view, reached the heights of fame with these humble objects. Therefore, I am of the opinion that he, like the other [Piraeicus] should be awarded the epithet rhyparographer, because of the grace that shines in all his works when he depicts, in a most tasteful way [elegantissime] the bodies and dress of peasant girls, vegetables, slaughtered chickens, ducks, cods and other fish sorts, and all manners of kitchen utensils. Besides the perfect daylight and the endless variety of his paintings never tires the eyes [of the beholder].] In the same vein Jacob Campo Weyermann is referring in his Levens-Beschryvingen der Nederlandsche Konst-Schilders en Konst-Schilderessen (1729) to Pyraeicus: “De Vlamingen en de Nederlanders hebben dien Pyreicus stapsvoets nagevolgt in het verbeelden van die geringe voorwerpen. Hun penseel is verwonderlijk, doch het voorwerp gering geweest”

[the Flemish and Dutch painters imitated Pyraeicus faithfully in representing these humble matters. Their brush technique seeks admiration, but the topics represented are humble].59 Weyerman was not dealing specifically here with the still life genre but with genre painting in general. And it is known that, from 1560 onwards, genre painting (the so- called genus gryllorum)has been very often legitimized by referring to Pyraeicus and rhyparography.60 From this perspective it becomes obvious to relate Van de Venne’s grisailles firstly to the pictorial genre of rhyparography, rather than to the literary and rhetorical paradoxical encomium. In this respect it is a bit surprising that Westermann, while linking Van de Venne’s grisailles to Pliny and Pyraeicus, uses the term paradoxical encomium but does not refer to the appropriate name of the pictorial genre, that is rhyparography: According to Pliny, although Peiraikos specialized in the “low genre” of “barbers and cobbler shops, donkeys, food, and such things”, he gained the highest fame and best rewards. (…) The complexity and considerable market success of Van de Venne’s lowly grisailles indicate that Peiraikos’ example may have stimulated him, too, to create versions of the paradoxical encomi- um in paint.61 Rhyparography or within the tradition of the paradoxical encomium? The question is perhaps not that relevant. It is more important to find out whether and to what extent Van de Venne’s idiosyncratic grisailles match the contemporary discourse on the rhyparographi. Intriguing and quite attractive in this respect is the fact that Houbra- ken in his De groote Schouburgh der Nederlantsche Konstschilders en Schilderessen (Amsterdam, 1718–1721) immediately after his biographical sketch of Van de Venne writes some lines on Pyraeicus. The wording is quite negative. This passage, however,

59 J. C. Weyerman, De Levens-Beschryvingen der Nederlandsche Konst-Schilders en Konst-Schilderessen (The lives of Dutch art painters and paintresses; The Hague, 1729), vol. 1, p. 513. 60 J. Muylle, Genus Gryllorum. Gryllorum Pictores. Legitimatie, evaluatie en interpretatie van genre-iconografie en van de biografieën van genreschilders in de Nederlandse kunstliteratuur (ca. 1550–ca. 1750). (Diss. Leuven, 1986), pp. 188–95 and pp. 507–516. 61 M. Westermann, ‘Fray en Leelijck’ (noot 37), p. 246.

194 in all probability is not related to Van de Venne but instead preceeds Houbraken’s next biographical sketch on Johannes Torrentius and his shameful representations.62 Another question that needs an answer, has to do with Junius’ description of Aertsen’s and Pyraeicus’ brush technique: “gratia” and “elegantissimè”. Does this apply to Van de Venne’s idiosyncratic technique of monochrome painting as well? We need further research on how grisaille painting was viewed as a specific art form, and more in particular on the Northern Low Countries of the 1630s. Westermann’s study makes a start in this respect but further art historical research is needed.63

62 See J. Muylle, Genus Gryllorum. Gryllorum Pictores (noot 50), p. 191. 63 M. Westermann, “Fray en Leelijck” (noot 37), p. 238–45.

195

Cultural Synopsis 198 ACTA UNIVERSITATIS PALACKIANAE OLOMUCENSIS FACULTAS PHILOSOPHICA NEERLANDICA II – 2003

Der Einfluss der Konfessionen auf die Kunst der Niederlanden1

Christian Tümpel (Katholische Universität Nimwegen)

Einführung Die Geschichte der nordniederländischen religiösen Kunst im Goldenen Zeitalter wird ganz wesentlich dadurch bestimmt, dass die Gesellschaft multikonfessionell war, aber seit 1579, der Union von Utrecht, die Kalvinisten die führende kirchliche Grup- pierung der Niederlanden war.2 Neben ihnen bildeten die Katholiken eine an vielen Orten große, an manchen sogar gleich große Glaubensgemeinschaft. Aber sie waren politisch entmachtet und ihrer Kirchen beraubt worden.3 Daneben gab es außer den verschiedenen reformierten Gruppierungen (Wallonische Kirche, englische Presbyte- rianer, englische Episcopalen) u. a. die Remonstranten, ferner die große Gruppe der Mennoniten, die Lutheraner4 und die jüdischen Gemeinden5 (polnisch-deutsche und jüdische portugiesische).6 Ein großer Teil der Bevölkerung war jedoch bei keiner Kirche eingeschrieben. Nicht wenige machten zwar bei der Taufe, Trauung und bei Beerdigung von den Amtshandlungen der reformierten Kirche Gebrauch, waren aber

1 Zum Verhältnis von Kirche und Kunst in den Niederlanden vgl. C. Tümpel, Religieuze historie- schilderkunst. In: A. Blankert (Hrsg.), God en de Goden, Ausst. Kat. Amsterdam 1981, S. 45–53; ders., ,Die Reformation und die Kunst der Niederlande.‘ In: W. Hofmann (Hrsg.), Luther und die Folgen für die Kunst. Ausst.Kat. Hamburg 1983, München 1983, S. 309–321; ders., ,Bildende Kunst. In: TRE. Theolo- gische Realenzyklopädie. Bd. XX, Berlin-New York 1990, S. 145-163. 2 Eine Übersicht über die niederländische Kirchengeschichte bietet der Artikel „Niederlande“ von C. Augustijn in der TRE. Theologische Realenzyklopädie Bd. 24, 1994, S. 474–-502 (mit ausführlicher Bibliographie S. 494ff). Eine ausführliche Darstellung in J. I. Israel, De Republiek.1477–1806. Franeker Bd. If 1996, vgl. vor allem die Kap. 5, 16, 27 u. 38. 3 L. J. Rogier, Geschiedenis van het katholicisme in Noord-Nederland in de zestiende en zeventiende eeuw. Bd. I, Amsterdam 1946; S. A. C. Dudok van Heel, Amsterdamse schuil- of huiskerken? Historisch Tijdschrift Holland 25 (1993) S. 1–10. 4 In den Niederlanden war der lutherische Glaube schon früh verbreitet und zwar einerseits durch Luthers Schriften (vgl. C. C. G. Visser, Luther’s geschriften in de Nederlanden tot 1546, Assen 1969), andererseits durch die Handelsbeziehungen mit den Hansestädten (vgl. C. Ch. G. Visser, De Lutheranen in Nederland, Dieren 1983). Die Lutheraner blieben jedoch eine Minderheit, die sich auch unter kalvinistischer Vorherrschaft anfangs in verborgenen Hauskirchen versammelten und deren Gottesdienste unter poli- zeilichen Eingriffen zu leiden hatten. 5 Vgl. dazu R. G. Fuks-Mansfeld, De sefardim in Amsterdam tot 1795, Hilversum 1989; J. Michman, H. Beem, Pinkas: Geschiedenis van de joodse gemeenschap in Nederland. Ede/Antwerpen 1992. 6 Jan. Wagenaar, Amsterdam in zyne opkomst, aanwas, geschiedenissen, voorregten, koophandel, gebouwen, kerkenstaat, schoolen, schutterye, gilden en regeringe, beschreven… I–IV Amsterdam 1760–1802, vgl. Bd. II, 1765. S. 89–236 gibt eine gute Übersicht über die in Amsterdam vertretenen Konfessionen und ihre Kirchen.

199 keine Mitglieder. Man bezeichnete sie im 17. Jahrhundert als liefhebbers van de gereformeerde religie (Liebhaber der reformierten Religion). Davon nahm ein Teil an den Gottesdiensten teil, ein anderer Teil hielt Abstand von der organisierten Kirche, ein weiterer Teil hing pietistischen oder spirituellen Strömungen an.7 In den verschiedenen Denominationen spielte die religiöse Kunst eine unter- schiedliche Rolle: das führte in den Kirchengebäuden zur Betonung der Besonder- heit, im pluralistischen kommunalen und kommerziellen Bereich zur Neutralisierung der Unterschiede.8 Die Geschichte der Kunst mit religiösen Themen wurde ganz wesentlich durch eine Reihe von Fakten beeinflußt: 1.) Die Kalvinisten als publieke kerk (anerkannte Kirche) hielten sich meist an das zweite Gebot und lehnten die Ausstattung ihrer Kirchen mit Skulpturen und Bildern prinzipiell ab. Die öffentliche Kirche verlor dadurch ihre Stellung als wichtigster Auftraggeber. 2.) Ein großer Teil der Künstler war katholisch.9 Nicht wenige der katholischen Historienmaler waren in Italien oder im Süden gewesen. Zurückgekehrt ver- arbeiteten sie die Errungen-schaften der italienischen und flämischen Kunst und Gegenreformation in ihren meist für den Markt bestimmten Werken. Damit waren sie wichtige Vermittler der großen Form, mit der sie sich im Süden hatten auseinandersetzen müssen. Die meisten von ihnen fertigten nur gelegentlich Altarbilder für Hauskirchen oder Andachtsbilder für den priva-

7 J. Spaans, Haarlem na de Reformatie: stedelijke cultuur en kerkelijk leven 1577–1620. Den Haag 1989, S. 104–107 wies nach, dass im Jahre 1620 ca. 52 Prozent der Bevölkerung von Haarlem kein eingeschrie- benes Mitglied einer Kirche war. 8 Vgl. zur Kunst in öffentlichen Gebäuden neben der in Anm. 1 zitierte Literatur z. B. den Ausstellungska- talog von A. Blankert, der die Kunst der kommunalen Gebäude behandelt: Kunst als regeringszaak in Amsterdam in de 17e eeuw. Rondom schilderijen van Ferdinand Bol (Ausstellung Koninklijk Paleis Amsterdam 1975), Lochem 1975 und den Ausstellungskatalog über die niederländischen Schützenge- mälde: Schutters in Holland (Ausstellung Haarlem, Frans Halsmuseum 1988) Haarlem/Zwolle 1988, vgl. bes. S. 74–103. 9 Listen von katholischen Künstlern wurden erstmals zusammengestellt von J. Hoogewerff, Nederlandsche schilders en scholing in de 17de eeuw. Mededelingen van het Nederlandsch Historisch Instituut in Rome 9 (1929), S. 149–174, vgl. bes. S. 169–174. Erst nach 1945 wurden diese Bemerkungen in der historischen Literatur apologetisch aufgegriffen, um den Beitrag der Katholiken zur Kultur der Niederlande zu demonstrieren (P. T. A. Swillens, Roomsch-Katholieke kunstenaars in de 17de eeuw. Katholiek Cultureel Tijdschrift 1 (1945–6), Bd. 2, S. 416–419). L. J. Rogiers widmete in seiner Geschiedenis van het katholicis- me in Noord-Nederland (zitiert in Anm. 3) dem Einfluss der Katholiken auf die niederländische Kultur in Kapitel (XIII). Hatte die ältere Diskussion einen apologetischen Charakter, weil vor allem von Katholi- ken auf die Bedeutung des Katholizismus für die niederländische Kultur hingewiesen wurde, so änderte sich dies, als Seymour Slive in seinem Aufsatz Notes on the relationship of protestantism to seventeenth- century painting. The Art Quarterly 19 (1956), S. 3–15, auf die Bedeutung der katholischen Künstler hinwies. P. J. J. van Thiel, Catholic elements in seventeenth-century Dutch painting, apropos of a children’s portrait by Thomas de Keyser, Simiolus 20 (1990/1), S. 39–62, vgl. bes. S. 55, erweiterte die Liste der katholischen Künstler auf Grund der Archivforschungen seiner Frau Irene van Thiel-Stroman. Eine weitere Ergänzung findet sich in dem Ausstellungskatalog J. A. Spicer und L. Federle Orr (Hrsg.), Masters of Light: Dutch painters in Utrecht during the Golden Age. Ausst. Kat. Baltimore/San Francisco/ London etc 1997/8, New Haven/San Francisco 1997.

200 ten Gebrauch, eine Minderheit –zu der z.B. Pieter de Grebber gehörte – produziert in größerem Umfang für eine katholische Klientel.10 3.) Künstler aller Denominationen schufen religiöse Bilder für einen multikon- fessionellen Markt, religiöse Zuspitzungen wurden bei biblischen Bildern meist vermieden, um den Kundenkreis nicht einzuschränken.11

Der Bildersturm Die Reformierten waren entschiedene Gegner des mittelalterlichen katholischen Bilderkults.12 Ihnen erschien die Ausstattung der Kirchen mit religiösen Bildern (Andachtsbildern, Evangelienzyklen, Heiligenbildern) als Idolatrie. Zwingli, der Re-

10 Schon in einigen Stadtgeschichten wird auf die katholischen Hauskirchen und ihre Ausstattung einge- gangen. Vorbildlich ist hier: Jan Wagenaar, Bd. II, 1765 (zitiert in Anm. 6, S. 207ff. Eine Übersicht über die Einrichtung der Kirchen und damit auch die bewahrten Altäre früherer Hauskirchen bietet dann die von der Rijkscommissie voor de Monumentenzorg herausgegebene Reihe De Nederlandse monumenten van geschiedenis en kunst. Den Haag Bd. I ff. (1912 ff.). Außerdem erschienen zahlreiche Inventarbände von Kirchen, die alte Ausstattungen dokumentierten, vgl. z. B. A. Blankert, Kunstbezit Parkstraatkerk. Den Haag 1978. Nach der Stiftung des Rijksmuseums Catharijneconvent in Utrecht ist es dort vor allem P. Dirkse gewesen, der den Beitrag der einzelnen Konfessionen in Ausstellungen aufgearbeitet hat: Kunst uit Oud-katholieke kerken. Utrecht, Rijksmuseum Het Catharijneconvent 1989; Jezuïeten in Nederland. Utrecht, Rijksmuseum Het Catharijneconvent 1991; R. Schillemans, der ursprünglich eine Dissertation über die katholischen Hauskirchen plante, veröffentlichte einen Teil seiner Ergebnisse in dem Aufsatz Schilderijen in Noordnederlandse katholieke kerken uit de eerste helft van de zeventiende eeuw, De zeven- tiende eeuw 8 (1992), S. 41–52, und in dem Ausstellungskatalog Putti en Cherubijns. Het religieuze werk van Jacob de Wit (1695–1754), Amsterdam, Museum Amstelkring 1995. X. van Eck untersuchte in seiner Dissertation die katholischen Hauskirchen in Gouda. Kunst, twist en devotie: Goudse katholieke schuilkerken 1572–1795 (Diss. Amsterdam), Delft 1994. Er faßte später die Forschungen von Dirkse, van Thiel und Schillemans systematisch zusammen in: From doubt to conviction: clandestine Catholic churches as patrons of Dutch Caravaggesque painting. Simiolus 22 (1993/4), S. 217–234; The artist’s religion: paintings commissioned for clandestine Catholic churches in the northern Netherlands, 1600–1800. Simiolus 27 (1999), S. 69–94. 11 Zum grundsätzlichen Problem vgl. J. Bruyn, Rembrandt’s keuze van Bijbelse onderwerpen, Utrecht 1959, zu einer marktorientierten Ikonographie vgl. „The Iconography of the Pre-Rembrandtists.“ In: A. Tümpel: The Pre-Rembrandtists. Ausst. Kat. Sacramento (E. B. Crocker Art Gallery). Sacramento 1974, S. 127–150, vgl. bes. S. 146f; Tümpel, 1981 (zitiert in Anm.1), S. 45–53; ders., „Die alttestamentliche Historienmalerei im Zeitalter Rembrandts.“ In: ders. (Hrsg.), Das Alte Testament im Goldenen Zeitalter. München-Berlin 1994, S. 8–23, vgl. S. 22; V. Manuth, Denomination and iconography: the choice of subject matter in the biblical painting of the Rembrandt circle. Simiolus 22 (1993/4), S. 235–252. Nicht nur die Maler, auch die Verleger von Büchern (z. B. Bilderbibeln), die Autoren von Theaterstücken, die sich an ein breites Publikum richteten vermieden konfessionelle Zuspitzungen, um den Adressatenkreis nicht unnötig zu verkleinern. Van Thiel versucht dennoch, das Katholische von biblischen Historienbildern zu definieren: „I have the very distinct impression that the Catholic version of a biblical subject is imbued with a specific, religious sentiment which offers the same potential for recognizing its persuasion as its style does for dating and attribution.“ (Van Thiel, 1990/1 S. 55, Anm.64), kommt aber über eine Vermutung nicht hinaus. In dem Ausstellungskatalog Matters of Light (zitiert in Anm. 9) S. 81 wird von Ben Olde Meyerink und Angelique Bakker das biblische (!) Thema Die Verkündigung an Maria als „katholisch“ (!) disqualifiziert und bei dem protestantischen Sammler daher vermutet, er sei offensicht- lich ein Kryptokatholik. Gegen die Zuweisung von bestimmten biblischen Themen allein an eine Konfession habe ich schon in dem Ausstellungskatalog God en de Goden (zitiert in Anm. 1) S. 53, Anm. 24, Stelllung genommen.

201 formator von Zürich, hatte 1523 vorgeschlagen, die Bilder auf geordnetem Wege entfernen zu lassen. Was sich nicht aus der Hl. Schrift begründen ließ, verschwand: die Altäre, die Reliquien, die Bilder, die Orgel, der Kirchengesang. Später hat er seine Einstellung in der Bilderlehre differenziert und Leitlinien gegeben, die auch noch im 17. Jahrhundert in Holland nachwirkten: nur die Bilderverehrung ist verboten: 13 „Praktisch wird (…) die Grenze zwischen den erlaubten und unerlaubten Bildern (…) lokal bestimmt: ‘in foro’ oder zu Hause, im Saal oder Gemach kann man sich beliebige Bilder aufstellen, vorausgesetzt, dass man sie nicht verehrt (…); in der Kirche sind schlechterdings keine Bilder zu dulden, und nur solche ‘Gestalten’ erlaubt, die nimmer für Gott und Helfer angenommen werden mögen.„ Kalvin ging in der Verurteilung der Bilder noch über Zwingli hinaus. Schon in seiner Institutio von 1536 (1,42–45) gibt er das Bilderverbot als 2. Gebot des Dekalogs. Er forderte von den Gläubigen, sie sollten sich überhaupt kein Bild vor Gott machen, weder ein Äußeres noch ein Inneres.14 Gott sei Geist und solle im Geist angebetet werden (43). Calvin vergleicht die Bilderverehrung der Altgläubigen mit dem heidni- schen Götzendienst. Natürlich hätten auch die Heiden einen Unterschied zwischen den Bil- dern und den Göttern selbst gemacht, aber sie hätten Gott nach ihrem Bild geformt, weil sie ihn carnaliter vor sich ha- ben wollten, denn sie glaub- ten, den Bildern wohne etwas Göttliches (aliquid divinitas) inne. Polemisch wendet er ge- gen die Argumentation, die Bilder seien eine Armenbibel ein: die libri idiotarum könne auch den idiotae keine Frucht schaffen (44). Vielmehr führe 1. Frans Hogenberg, Der kalvinistische Bildersturm vom 20. August 1566. 1588. Kupferstich 26×4 cm. die bildliche Darstellungen (Aus: Michael Aitsinger, De leone belgico. Köln 1588) zum Anthropomorphismus.

12 Die Literatur zu dem Thema ist umfangreich. Meine Darstellung beruht u. a. auf H. Freiherr von Campenhausen, Die Bilderfrage in der Reformation. In: Zeitschrift für Kirchengeschichte 68 (1957), 96– 128; ders., Tradition und Leben. Kräfte der Kirchengeschichte. Tübingen 1960, S. 361–407; (gekürzter Abdruck unter dem Titel:) ,Zwingli und Luther zur Bilderfrage‘. In: Das Gottesbild im Abendland. (Glaube und Forschung Bd. 15, herausgegeben von Günter Howe) Witten/Berlin 19592, S. 139–172, und auf der sehr guten Zusammenfassung des Forschungstandes bei W. von Loewenichs Artikel „Bilder VI. Reformatorische und nachreformatorische Zeit.“ In: TRE Bd. 6 (1980), S. 546–555 mit einer ausführli- chen Bibliographie (S. 556–557). 13 Von Campenhausen, op. cit. (1959) (zitiert in Anm. 12), S. 143 14 Die folgende Darstellung beruht auf W. von Loewenichs Artikel in der TRE Bd. 6 (1980), S. 553f.

202 Die Predigt, die allein die rechte Form der Belehrung ist, macht die Bilder unnötig. In der Institutio von 1559 fin- den sich z. T. dieselben Gedanken wie- der:15 Bilder von Gott seien Aberglau- be; Gott lasse seine Stimme hören, aber seine Gestalt zeige er nicht. Ne- ben der Bibel werden auch antike Au- toren (89, 28 z. B. Seneca) als Zeugen für die Torheit der Götterbilder ange- führt. Die Theophanien des Alten Bundes seien Vorabbildungen der Of- fenbarung Christi, der selbst jedoch ein Bild des unsichtbaren Gottes sei, 2. Jan Luyken, Kalvinistischer Bildersturm. Um 1680. rechtfertigten also keine bildliche Dar- Radierung 32,9×34,7 cm. (Aus: Pieter Bor Christiansz., Oorsprongh, begin en stellung Gottes. Schon Kirchenväter vervolgh der Nederlandsche Oorlogen. Amsterdam, hätten sich gegen die Bilder gewandt 1679–1684) (94, 3–11). Die Heiligenbilder sind für Calvin Beispiele von verdorbenem Luxus und Obszönität (95, 9). Selbst die Bordelle seien keuscher als die heutigen Tempel (95, 11). Aber selbst von den anständigen Bildern könne man nichts von Gott lernen (95, 15ff.). Nicht einmal von Kruzifixen könne man das (96, 8–16). Der menschliche Geist fabriziere ständig den Götzendienst (96, 28ff.), der in den Wallfahrten zu den Bildern noch heute im Schwang sei (99, 11–21). Die Unterschei- dung zwischen dulia und latria führe schon sprachlich nicht weiter (100, 2–16; 106, 27– 107, 13) und werde durch die Praxis widerlegt (100,16ff.). Es gäbe zwar Bilder, die man als Gaben Gottes dulden könne, wie z. B. Darstellungen historischer Ereignisse, die nur durch ihre Schönheit wirken, belehren und ergötzen. Aber sie hätten in der Kirche nichts zu tun (100, 28). Dort habe man sie nur aus einer törichten und unbesonnenen cupiditas aufgestellt (101, 14). Waren die Bilder in Genf auch schon 1535 entfernt worden, so verfehlten die grundsätzlichen Thesen langfristig nicht ihre Wirkung bei der Ausbreitung des Kalvinismus. 1566 kam es auch in den Niederlanden zum Bildersturm.16 Als nach der Union von Utrecht (1579) wietere Städte dem Aufstand beitraten und die Kalvinisten sich durchsetzten, wurden die Kirchen der kleinen Bevölkerungsgruppe der Kalvinisten übereignet und, wenn sie noch nicht geplündert waren, ihres Bilderschmucks beraubt.17 Hogenberg zeigt in seinem Kup- ferstich die Säuberung der Kirchen, weist aber als Zeitzeuge auch auf die Plünderun- gen, die dabei stattfanden (Abb. 1, S. 202).

15 Institutio Kap. XI des 1. Buches III, 88–105 16 Ph. Mack Crew, Calvinist Preaching and Iconoclasm in the Netherlands 1544–1569, Cambridge 1978; David Freedberg, Iconoclasm and Painting in the Revolt of the Netherlands 1566–1609. New York/London 1988; ders., „De kunst en de beeldenstorm. 1525–1580. De Noordelijke Nederlanden.“ In: Ausst. Kat. Kunst voor de beeldenstorm II, Amsterdam 1986, S. 39–68.

203 Von Künstlern aller Konfessionen wurde der Bildersturm durchaus kritisch gesehen. Der Mennonit Karel van Man- der klagt in seinem Werk über die nie- derländischen Künstler permanent über die Vernichtung großartiger Werke. Von katholischer Seite wird der Bildersturm visuell u.a. als eine zweite Passion Chri- sti beklagt,18 und das hinterlässt durch- aus Spuren bei Protestanten: der evan- gelische spiritualistische Jan Luyken stellt das Ereignis entsprechend dar: die Bilderstürmer sind mit den Kriegsknech- 3. Unbekannter Stecher: Die Kirche der Remonstranten an der Keyzersgracht, Amsterdam ten, die Christi Kreuz aufrichteten, zu 19 (Aus: Jan Wagenaar, Amsterdam in zyne vergleichen (Abb. 2, vorige Seite). Noch opkomst…, Bd.2, Amsterdam 1765, Abb. bei S. 1678 klagt der kalvinistische Rembrandt- 190) schüler Samuel van Hoogstraten in sei- ner Inleyding tot de Hooge Schoole der Schilderkonst, dass die Kunst seit dem Bilder- sturm im vorigen Jahrhundert in Holland zwar nicht völlig vernichtet worden sei, obwohl den Künstlern die beste Laufbahn, nämlich die Altar- und Historienmalerei für die Kirchen, verschlossen sei und sich deshalb die meisten darauf einlassen, geringe Sachen, ja selbst Banalitäten zu malen.20

17 Die Alteratie und die Reinigung der Kirchen hat sich in den niederländischen Städten nicht in gleichem Tempo und gleicher Radikalität vollzogen. Einzelne Stadtregierungen haben vor allem in der ersten Phase der Alteratie mäßigend gewirkt. Anfangs wurde selbst versucht, offiziell eine multikonfessionelle tolerante Kirchenpolitik durchzusetzen, was allerdings bald aufgegeben wurde. Für die unterschiedliche Geschichte in den einzelnen Städten vgl. u.a die Stadtgeschichten und die Studien, die sich mit der Alteratie in den Städten beschäftigen, für Haarlem z.B. Spaans, op.cit. (1989) (zitiert in Anm. 7) 18 In Arnoudt van Geluwe alias der Vlaemsche Boer (Pseudonym für Christiaen van Pieterskercke [1604– 1675]), Den af-getrocken masscher van het vermomdt ghereformeerdt louter wordt Godes…, Antwerpen 1652, S. 173 wird der Bildersturm dramatisch gleichgesetzt mit dem Martyrium der katholischen Geist- lichkeit. Die Geistlichkeit erleidet das Martyrium, die Kirchen werden in Brand gesteckt, Christus in der Gestalt des Kruzifixes erleidet neu das Martyrium. In der Bildunterschrift unter der Abbildung auf S. 173 wird die neue Reformation mit den heidnischen unmenschlichen Verwüstungen verglichen, die das götzendienerische Heidentum der alten heiligen apostolischen Kirche angetan habe, denn das Heiden- tum habe Kirchen, Klöster und Altäre vernicht, die Bildnisse Christ zerstört. Dasselbe hätten auch die neuen Reformer getan. Hätte das Heidentum Päpste, Bischöfe, Priester und Mönche ermordet, Männer und Jungfrauen Gewalt angetan, so auch das neue reformierte Heidentum. In dem Tweede deel over De voorder’ Ontledinghe van dry verscheyden Ghereformeerde Martelaers Boecken, ofte het vervolgh van den Reden-Kamp-Strydt Tusschen de Lutheriaenen, Clavinisten, ende Mennonisten.. schießen die Geuzen auf einen an ein Kruzifix gebundenen Mönch, so dass das Kruzifix und der Mönch vernichtet werden. (Abb. S. 131). Vgl. auch die frühere katholische Darstellung des Bildersturms in Veltin, Anonymer Künstler, 1621, Abb. in Hofmann (Hrsg.), 1983 (zit.in Anm. 1), Kat. Nr. 26. 19 Vgl. hierzu Hofmann (Hrsg.), op. cit. (1983) (zitiert in Anm. 1), Kat. Nr. 20 20 Samuel van Hoogstraten, Inleyding tot de Hooge Schole der Schilderkonst, Rotterdam 1676, S. 257: „dat de konst, sedert de Beeltstorming in de voorgaende eeuw, in Holland niet geheel vernietigt is, schoon ons de beste loopbaenen, naementlijck de kerken, daer door geslooten zijn, en de meeste schilders zich deshalven tot geringe zaeken, jae zelfs tot beuzelingen te schilderen geheelijck begeeven.“

204 Die kalvinistische Kirche Die von Kunst gereinigte Kirche wurde fast zum Symbol der reinen Leh- re. Die weiß getünchten Wände ver- deutlichten, dass die beste Zier der Kirche ihre Schlichtheit sei.21 Sie be- saßen keinen Altar mehr, sondern nur noch einen Abendmahlstisch. Der Chor für die Geistlichkeit hatte seine Funktion verloren. Zentrum war die Kanzel. Ähnlich schlicht waren die Kir- chenräume der Remonstranten, der Mennoniten und der anderen reformier- ten Denominationen. (Abb. 3) Aber dieses normative Bild, das uns 4. Unbekannter Stecher, De Son, die Kirche im Allgemeinen auch die Stiche und der Mennoniten, Amsterdam (Aus: Jan Wagenaar, Amsterdam in zyne opkomst…, Bilder des 17. und 18. Jahrhunderts Bd. 2, Amsterdam 1765, Abb. bei S. 190) vermitteln, muss in einigen Punkten korrigiert werden: Verantwortlich für den Bau und Unterhalt von Kirchen war die Stadtregierung, bzw. die Patronatsherren. Die Stadtregierungen hatten seit altersher „Kerkmeester“ eingesetzt, die für den Unterhalt der Kirchengebäude sorgten. Für die Städte blieben die Kirchen auch nach der Alteration Repräsentationsorte des öffent- lichen Gottesdienstes. In den mittelalterlichen Kirchen, die von den Reformierten übernommen worden waren, waren die Kirchenfenster schon aus praktischen Grün- den im Allgemeinen erhalten geblieben, zumal sie nie verehrt worden waren. In vielen Fällen wurden mittelalterliche Kirchen sogar noch im 17. Jahrhundert mit figurativen Kirchenfenstern und Darstellungen verziert. Einzelne Stadtregierungen und ihre Repräsentanten, die „Kerkmeester“ haben offensichtlich den Bildersturm bedauert.22 Sie setzten im Laufe des 17. Jahrhunderts bei einigen reformierte Kirchen durch, dass sie mit bildlichen Darstellungen ausgestattet wurden.23

21 Constantijn Huygens, Gebruyck en Ongebruyck van het Orgel. Leiden 1641/1645. Zitiert nach der Neuaus- gabe von Van der Pauw 1936, S. 19; siehe M. van Zanten, Orgelluiken. Traditie en iconografie. De Nederlandse beschilderde orgelluiken in Europees perspectief. Zutphen 1999, Anm. 84. 22 Die Kerkmeesters der Zuiderkerk ließen für die Dekoration ihres Verwaltungszimmers Ferdinand Bol 1669 ein Historienbild zu ihrer Erinnerung (der Bilderrahmen trägt ihre Wappen) mit dem Thema Joseph verkauft Korn in Ägypten (Leinwand 157×171 cm. Amsterdam, Nationale Stichting De Nieuwe Kerk) malen. Sie sahen in Joseph das Vorbild für einen idealen vorausschauenden, uneigennützigen Verwalter. J. Wagenaar, II, 1765 (zitiert in Anm. 6), S. 131 deutet das Gemälde als Das Anbieten von Geschenken beim Bau des Tempels von Salomo. Diese Interpretation wird von A. Blankert, Ferdinand Bol. Doornspijk 1982, Kat. Nrn. 12 u.13 übernommen und zwar auch für das spiegelbildliche monumentale Gemälde im Vredepaleis. Vgl. dazu Tümpel, op. cit. (1983) (zitiert in Anm. 1) S. 318 und Tümpel (Hrsg.), 1994 (zitiert in Anm.11), Nr. 27. 23 Vgl. C. W. Mönnich/Michel van der Plas, Het woord in beeld. Baarn 1977. Auf S. 55 ist ein Kirchenfenster der reformierten Kirche zu De Rijp aus dem Jahre 1656 abgebildet, das nach Angaben der Autoren Die Begegnung von Rebekka und Eliezer darstellt. In Wirklichkeit zeigt es Moses hilft den Töchtern Raguels bei der Tränke (Exodus 2). Daher ist auch im Himmel Amor abgebildet, der seine Pfeile auf Moses richtet. Dieser heiratet nach diesem Ereignis eine der Töchter, Zipporah.

205 5. Pieter Lastman, König Cyrus gibt den Juden die kultischen Geräte zurück. (Entwurf für ein Kirchenfenster der 6. Thomas de Keyser nach Pieter Lastman. Zuiderkerk zu Amsterdam. 1611 König Cyrus gibt den Juden die kultischen Geräte datiert. 38,8×18,2 cm. Berlin, zurück.

In den Kirchenfenstern feierten die Städte wichtige politische Ereignisse und rechtfertigten die Politik der Republik oder der eigenen Stadt.24 Dabei konnten sie zeitgenössische Ereignisse mit biblischen parallelisieren.25

24 So wurden nach dem Feuer, das 1645 die Glasfenster der Nieuwe Kerk zu Amsterdam zerstört hatte, u. a. Jan Geritsz. van Bronchorst beauftragt, neue zu fertigen (Vgl. Thomas Döring, Studien zur Künstler- familie Van Bronchorst (Diss. Bonn 1989), Alfter 1993, vgl. bes. S. 117ff. Er schuf für das nördliche Querschiff das Glasfenster mit der legendären Geschichte Graf Wilhelm IV. verleiht der Stadt Amsterdam das Wappen, während de Vliegers Fenster das historische Ereignis der Bekrönung des Stadtwappens durch Maximilian I zeigte. Für die Schützen- und Eggertkapelle fertigte er 1648 drei Fenster, die den West- fälischen Frieden feiern: Der Friede legt Mars in Fessel (Döring AV 17), Der Friede schwebt zu den Vereinigten Niederlanden herab (Döring AV18) und Überfluss, Wissenschaft und Kunst als Früchte des Friedens (Döring AV9). Für die Oude Kerk in Amsterdam entwarf er 1656 die Krönung Philipps des Schönen, die an den Beginn der Verbindung zwischen Spanien und den Niederlanden erinnerte, während das Pendant von Pieter Jansz. zeigt, wie der spanische König Philipp IV den in Münster ausgehandelten Friedensvertrag unterzeichnet, der das Ende dieser Verbindung und die Anerkennung der Niederlande als souveräner Staat bedeutete (Döring 1993, S. 120). 25 Das geschieht etwa in den Kirchenfenstern von Gouda. Vgl. dazu H. van de Waal, Drie Eeuwen vaderlandsche geschied-uitbeelding. 1500–100. Een iconologische studie. Bd. If. Den Haag 1952, S. 28, 244, 245; Xander van Eck, Christiane E.Coebergh-Surie en Andrea C. Gasten, The stained-glass windows in the Saint Janskerk at Gouda: the works of Dirck and Wouter Crabeth, Amsterdam 2002 (Corpus vertrearum Medii Aevi, Nederlands 2).

206 Selbst einzelne Neubauten erhielten figurative Glasfenster. So stifteten die Gil- den Glasfenster für die neu errichtete re- formierte Zuiderkerk. Die Gold- schmieegilde schenkte das von Rembrandts Lehrer Pieter Lastman geschaffene Fenster König Cyrus gibt den Juden die aus dem Tem- pel geraubten sakralen Geäte zurück (Abb. 5, vorige Seite). Die Kultgeräte des Tempels wurden von dem katholischen Maler Pieter Lastman sehr doppelbödig mit biblischen Szenen deoriert und somit die bildliche Dar- stellung verteidigt. Da die Fenster den Kir- chenraum angeblich zu sehr verdunkelten, wurden sie 1658 entfernt. De Keyser hielt darauf die Komposition des Glasfensters in einem Gemälde fest (Abb. 6, vorige Seite).26 In den Kirchen begründeten die Stadt- regierungen und ihre Repräsentanten auch ihre Kirchen- und Kunstpolitik. Strenge Kal- vinisten wollten die Orgeln aus den Kir- chen entfernen lassen. Die Stadtregie- rungen, welche die Orgeln gestiftet und den Stadtorganisten eingestellt hatten, vertei- digten dagegen die Orgelkonzerte in der Kirche. Am auffälligsten geschah dies auf den Orgelflügeln der monumentalen Or- geln, die für die täglichen Abendkonzerte von den Stadtregierungen eingerichtet wur- den. Auf beinahe allen Orgelflügeln, die im 7: Jan van Bronckhorst, David spielt die Harfe vor Saul. Orgelflügel der Nieuwe Kerk, geschlossenen Zustand die monumentalen Amsterdam. Signiert und 1655 datiert. Orgeln schützen, ließen die Stadt- (Amsterdam, Nieuwe Kerk) verwaltungen Geschichten von dem Har- fenspieler und Psalmisten David abbilden, um die von der strengen Reformation angefeindete Kirchenmusik als biblisch zu propagieren. Damit setzten sie sich langfri- stig durch (Abb. 7).27 Selbst Kanzeln wurden mit Skulpturen geschmückt wurden, z. B. die der Nieuwe Kerk in Amsterdam. Neben allegorischen Frauengestalten sind die im Neuen Testament aufgeführten Taten der Barmherzigkeit dargestellt.28

26 A. Blankert (Hrsg.), op. cit. (1981) (zitiert. in Anm. 1), Kat. Nr. 60. 27 Van Zanten, op. cit. (1999) (zitiert in Anm. 21). 28 Vgl. die Kanzel von Albert Jansz. Vinckenbrinck für die Nieuwe Kerk in Amsterdam. Abb. 9. Mönnich/ van der Plas, op. cit. (1977) (zit. in Anm. 23), S. 50f. In diesem Buch sind weitere, mit biblischen Reliefs verzierte geschnitzte Kanzeln aus Midwolda und Kimswerd abgebildet.

207 Katholische Kirche Im Tridentinum hatte die katholische Reform ihre geistige Grundlagen in Antwort auf die Reformation neu formuliert: Die Verwendung von Bildern wurde erneut als Mittel der religiösen Unterweisung gerechtfertigt.29 Es wurden lediglich unsittliche und dogmatisch falsche Darstellungen verboten. In den Ausstattungspro- grammen soll die Wiedergabe der Geburt und Passion Christi die Meditation seiner Menschwer- dung und seines Leidens fördern 8. Innenansicht der St. Johannes und Ursula-Kirche zu und die Bedeutung der Gottes- Amsterdam während einer Firmung am 10. Juni 1792. mutter verherrlichen. Denn alle (Kupferstich 14,2×19,7 cm) protestantisierten Länder sollen wieder zu Marienländern wer- den.30 Auf den Nebenaltären soll die Wiedergabe der Bekehrung, der Visionen und Martyrien der Heiligen und ihre Aufnahme in die himmlische Gemeinschaft dem Gläubigen ein nachahmenswertes Vorbild eines gläubigen Lebens vor Augen führen. Für die katholische Kirche spielte die visuelle Predigt durch Altarbilder und die dem Urbild entgegengebrachte Andacht eine zentrale Rolle. Wurde während des Achtzig- jährigen Krieges von den Spaniern eine Stadt wieder erobert, wurden die von den Protestanten gesäuberten Kirchen unmittelbar wieder mit Altären geschmückt.31 Das blieben jedoch in dem Gebiet der Union von Utrecht – anders als in den spanischen Niederlanden – nur Episoden. So mussten sich die katholischen Gemeinden, denen in den nördlichen Niederlanden ihre Kirchen weggenommen waren, in Privat- und Packhäusern versammeln, in denen von außen nicht sichtbar Gottesdiensträume eingerichtet worden waren.32 Diese wurden schon früh mit Altarbildern, z. T. auch mit Wechselaltären ausgestattet. Die Themengruppen, die dabei zentral stehen, verraten

29 H. Jedin, Entstehung und Tragweite des Trienter Dekrets über die Bilderverehrung, Theologische Quar- talschrift 116 (1935), S. 142 ff; 404 ff; ders., Kirche des Glaubens – Kirche der Geschichte. Ausgewählte Aufsätze und Vorträge, Freiburg Bd. II 1966, S. 460–498; ders., Das Tridentinum und die Bildenden Künste, Zeitschrift für Kirchengeschichte 74, 1963, S. 321–339. 30 Vgl. den Artikel der TRE (zitiert in Anm. 1) über „Maria/Marienfrömmigkeit“ Bd. 22, S. 115–161, vgl. bes. S. 132f. 31 H. de Schepper, „L’Etat ecclésiastique et religieux des Pays-Bas (Espagnols) et des Provinces-unies de 1572 à 1648: Une comparaison.“ In: F. Labourdette, J.-P. Pussou et M. C. Vignal (Hrsg.), Le Traité de Vervins. Paris 2000, S. 171–201, vgl. S. 175f. und Anm. 11. 32 J. Kalf, De katholieke kerken in Nederland, Amsterdam 1906. Zu den Kirchen, die sich zur altkatholischen Kirche zusammenschlossen siehe den Ausstellungskatalog Kunst uit Oud-katholieke kerken, 1989, zu den Jesuitenkirchen vgl. den Ausstellungskatalog: Jezuïeten in Nederland, 1991 (zitiert in Anm.10). Zu den katholischen Kirchen in Amsterdam siehe J. Wagenaar, II (zitiert in Anm. 6), 1765, S. 207ff; I. H. van Eeghen, De eigendom van de katholieke kerken in Amsterdam ten tijde van de Republiek, Bijdragen Bisdom

208 den Geist der katholischen Reform, wel- che die protestantischen Länder wie er- wähnt wieder zu Marienländern machen wollte (Abb. 8, vorige Seite). Daher werden in den biblischen Bild- programmen vor allem Szenen aus dem Leben Jesu, vor allem Szenen aus der Kindheitsgeschichte und der Passion Jesu ausgewählt, in der Maria eine wich- tige Rolle spielt. So malte etwa der ka- tholische Maler Claes Cornelisz Moeyaert für die Kirche der Beginen eine Anbe- tung der Hirten, eine Kreuzigung (Abb. 9) und eine Himmelfahrt Mariens (Abb. 10, nächste Seite). 33 Schließlich betonte man – in bewusster Abgrenzung – die Wichtig- keit und Vorbildhaftigkeit der Heiligen.34 Im allgemeinen wurden die Altäre von Malern aus der eigenen Stadt und dem eigenen Netzwerk geschaffen, die in die- sem Bereich ihre Kompetenz erwiesen hatten (Das ist durchaus vergleichbar mit der Auftragerteilung bei Schützen- stücken).35 Wenn Pastoren oder Orden jedoch Wert auf hohe Qualität legten, wandten sie sich auch an Künstler aus anderen Städten und/oder von einer an- 9. Claes Cornelisz Moeyaert, Die Kreuzigung deren Konfession. So malte der refor- Christi. Leinwand, ca. 238×139 cm. mierte Jacob Jordaens für die Jesuiten- (Amsterdam, St. Johannes und Ursulakirche)

Haarlem 64 (1957) S. 217–277; W.Tepe, XXIV Paepsche vergaderplaetsen: schuilkerken in Amsterdam, Amstelveen 1984; S. A. C. Dudok van Heel, Amsterdamse schuil- of huiskerken? Holland: Regionaal Historisch Tijdschrift 25 (1993) S. 1–10. Zu den Hauskirchen in Den Haag vgl. W. P. C. Knuttel, Vergaderplaatsen der katholieken te ‘s-Gravenhage in de zeventiende eeuw, Archief voor Nederlandse Kerkgeschiedenis 5 (1895) S. 106–110; A. Blankert, Kunstbezit Parkstraatkerk, 1978. Zu den katholischen Kirchen in Gouda vgl. X. van Eck, Kunst, twist en devotie: Goudse katholieke schuilkerken 1572–1795, Delft 1994 (zitiert in Anm. 9). 33 A. Tümpel, Claes Cornelisz. Moeyaert, Oud Holland 88 (1974), S. 1–163 u. 245–290, Kat. Nrn. 102, 135 u. 153. Die Himmelfahrt Mariens (Kat. Nr. 153) tauchte 1998 bei Sotheby’s in New York auf; Astrid Tümpel identifizierte das Bild. Die Johannes und Ursula Kirche im Begijnhof Amsterdams erwarb es wieder zurück. Rob Schillemans, Zeventiende en vroeg achtiende eeuwse wissselaltaarstukken in de Amster- damse Begijnenhofkerk. 15, 2, De zeventiende eeuw 204–221 ging auf die Urkunden über diese Werke ein und wies mit recht darauf hin, daß der bei A. Tümpel, op. cit. (1974), Abb. 170 wiedergegebene Stich der Begijnenhofkirche nicht in großen Zügen die Himmelfahrt Mariens abbildet. 34 E. Mâle, L’art religieux après le Concile de Trente, Paris 19512, S. 19ff ; John B. Knipping, Iconography of the Counter Reformation in the Netherlands. Heaven on Earth. (Posthume erweiterte Version der niederländi- schen Version Iconografie van de Contra-Reformatie in de Nederlanden. Hilversum 1939–1941). Bd. I Nieuwkoop/Leiden 1974, I, S. 109 ff, 128 ff, II, 239 ff, 373 ff, 474 ff.

209 10. Claes Cornelisz Moeyaert, 11. Neue Lutherische Kirche in Amsterdam am Die Himmelfahrt Mariens. Singel (Heute: Sonestahotel). Usprüngliche (Amsterdam, St. Johannes und Ursula-Kirche) Innenansicht mit Blick auf Kanzel und Orgel. (Aus: Jan Wagenaar, Amsterdam in zyne opkomst, aanwas, ... Bd. 2, Amsterdam 1765, Abb. bei S. 182) kirche „De Krijtberg“ eine Kreuztragung Christi, die zwischen 1655–1660 entstand.36 Offensichtlich wollten die Jesuiten der monumentalen Rathausdekoration, an der seit 1656 Govert Flinck arbeitete (und mit der nach dessen Tod u.a. Jordaens herangezo- gen wurde) und den monumentalen Orgelflügeln, die Bronckhorst 1655 für die Nieuwe Kerk schuf, etwas entgegensetzen.

35 Van Eck, op. cit. (1999) (zitiert in Anm. 10). Zur Auftragserteilung von Gruppenporträts an lokale Künstler vgl. Christian Tümpel, De Amsterdamse schuttersstukken. In: Pantheon 49 (1991), 132. 36 Wie N. de Poorter – die Forschung zusammenfassend – betont (Ausst. Kat. Antwerpen 1993, Jacob Jordaens (1593–1678) Brüssel 1993, wurden für den Hauptaltar noch folgende Wechselbilder geschaffen: Eine Variation von P. N. Bosch von Abraham Bloemaerts, Die Vision des Hl. Ignatius bei Stora. 1656; Jan Cossier, Die Anbetung der Hirten. 1657 (jetzt: Minneapolis Museum of Art); Erasmus Quellinus, Die Hl. Magd erscheint dem Heiligen Franciscus Xaverius, 1676. Später wurden für die drei Altäre noch Gemälde von dem Brüsseler Maler François Joseph Navez. (Ausstellungskatalog: Jezueten in Nederland, 1991 [zitiert in Anm.10] Nr. 8).

210 Nicht nur die Katholiken, auch einige protestantische Gruppierungen, die Remon- stranten und die Lutheraner und die jüdische Gemeinde mußten anfangs ihre Gottes- dienste in Hauskirchen, bzw. Haussynagogen halten.37 Über die Dekoration dieser frühen verborgenen Gottesräume wis- sen wir wenig. Erst im Laufe des 17. Jahrhunderts wurde Lutheranern (Abb. 11), Re- monstranten, Mennoniten (Abb. 4, S. 205) und Juden von 12. Joris van Schooten, Der Sündenfall. Holz 100×135 cm. den Stadtregierungen die Er- (Leiden, Lutherische Kirche) richtung von Gotteshäusern erlaubt. Die Kirchen der Men- noniten, Remonstranten und Juden behielten die strenge und nüchterne Ausstattung. Die Lutheraner, die in Amsterdam seit etwa 1630 ihre Kirchen bauen durften, schmückten, wenn ich es recht sehe, ihren Altar in den Niederlanden (anders als in Deutschland) nicht mit monumentalen Retabeln.38 Hier nahmen sie offensichtlich auf die Reformierten Rücksicht. Sie brachten ihren Bildschmuck vor allem auf den Emporenwänden an. Für die lutherische Kirche in Leiden schuf Joris van Schooten (der Lehrer von Rembrandts Weggenossen Jan Lievens) einen Zyklus Emporenbil- der, der die Heilsgeschichte vom Sündenfall (Abb. 12) bis zum Jüngsten Gericht schilderte. Solche Zyklen sind für lutherische Kirchen typisch. Dieser Zyklus wurde von Barent Fabritius erweitert. Es wurden drei Gleichnisse gewählt, in denen – wie Barbara Haeger überzeugend nachwies – in besonderer Weise die zentrale Lehre des lutherischen Glaubens, dass Gott Sünder und Arme aus Gnade annimmt, während er Selbstgerechte und unbarmherzige Erfolgreiche dem Gericht ausliefert, deutlich wird: Der verlorene Sohn (Lukas 15, Abb. 13, nächste Seite), Der reiche Mann und der arme

37 Die portugiesische jüdische Gemeinde Amsterdams hielt ihre religiösen Zusammenkünfte anfangs in Wohnzimmern ab. In Wohnhäusern in der Vlooyenburg befanden sich diese ,versteckten‘ Synagogen der jüdischen Gemeinde. 1636 wurde die Synagoge in der Houtgracht umgebaut und erweitert und tat als erste öffentliche Synagoge Dienst. Sie zeigt Ähnlichkeit mit der Hauskirche der Remonstranten aus dem Jahre 1629, Keizergracht 102–108. 38 Zum lutherischen Kirchenbau vgl. die grundlegende Darstellung von T. Koch, Der lutherische Kirchenbau in der Zeit des Barocks und seine theologischen Voraussetzungen. Kerygma und Doma, Zeitschrift für theologische Forschung und kirchliche Lehre 27 (1981), S. 111–130. Erst ab dem zweiten Viertel des 17. Jahrhunderts erhielten lutherische Gemeinden in einzelnen niederländischen Städten die Erlaubnis, Kirchengebäude zu errichten. (Vgl. dazu Luther in de Lage Landen, Rijksmuseum Het Catharijnecon- vent, Utrecht 1983). Lutherische Kirchen entstanden im 17. Jahrhundert u.a. in Amsterdam, Leiden und Gouda. Zur lutherischen Kirche in Gouda, vgl. X. van Eck, De decoratie van de Lutherse kerk te Gouda in de zeventiende eeuw, Oud Holland 105 (1991), S. 167–184.

211 Lazarus (Lukas 16) und Der Pharisäer und der Zöllner (Lukas 18).39 Barent Fabritius nahm für das dritte Gleichnis eine Bibelillustration von Matthäus Merian zum Vorbild. Offensichtlich kannte Fabritius auch die frühe, lutherisch geprägte Holzschnittse- rie von Cornelis Anthonisz zum Gleichnis vom verlorenen Sohn. So wie der verlorene Sohn vom katholischen Aberglauben und der Häresie zur Synagoge des Satans getrie- ben wurde, so geht auch der hochmütige Pharisäer, der sich seiner Werke rühmt, zum Satan und seinem Tempel.40 Der biblische Text selbst erwähnt dieses Motiv in beiden Gleichnissen nicht. Es wurde hinzugefügt, um die Geschichte zu verdeutlichen.

13. Barend Fabritius, Das Gleichnis vom verlorenen Sohn. Leinen 93×285 cm. (Amsterdam, Rijksmuseum)

Die religiöse Kunst in den Sammlungen Der Bildersturm war nicht von allen Stadtregierungen und von allen Familien, die wertvolle Altäre oder Memorientafeln gestiftet hatten, widerspruchslos akzeptiert worden. Vielerorts waren wichtige Altäre wegen ihres hohen künstlerischen Wertes vor dem drohenden Bildersturm gerettet und in kommunalen Gebäuden oder aber in den Häusern aristokratischer Familien aufbewahrt worden.41 Die Stadtregierung oder die Stadtaristokratie trat damit an die Stelle der Kirche als Garant für die Bewahrung der eigenen Geschichte. Die um die religiöse Kunst erweiterte städtische Sammlung (mit den Kunstobjekten ihrer Patrizierfamilien) trat neben die Kunstkammern der Königshäuser, des Hochadels und der Patrizierfamilien. Wenn man Altäre und Mem- orientafeln in Rathäusern oder in Privatsammlungen bewahrte, wurden aus den liturgisch-kirchlichen Gegenständen, die Gott und die Familie priesen, museal ver- waltete Kunstkammerobjekte bedeutender Familien und Künstler, die die Geschichte

39 B. Haeger, Barent Fabritius. Three paintings of Parables for the Lutheran Church in Leiden, Oud Holland 101 (1987), 91–114. 40 Ebenda S. 101f. Zu den unerträglichen Topoi der gegenseitigen Verteufelung gehört auch die Charakterisie- rung der anderen Konfession als häretische Synagoge. Die Gegenüberstellung von Ekklesia und Synago- ge wird benutzt, um die andere Konfession zu diffamieren. Vgl. für die Verketzerung der Protestanten durch die Katholiken als ketzerische Synagoge den 1585 datierten Kupferstich von Richard Vesteganus, Typus Ecclesiae Catholicae und Typus Heretice Synagoge, der dem lothringischen Kardinal von Guise gewidmet ist (Abb. 74a bei Hofmann (Hrsg.), op. cit. (1983), zitiert in Anm. 1), Kat. Nr.74. 41 Vgl. G. Pastoor, „Biblische Historienbilder im Goldenen Zeitalter in Privatbesitz.“ In: Tümpel (Hrsg.), op. cit. (1984) (zitiert in Anm. 11), S. 122–133, vgl. bes. S. 123.

212 und den Ruhm der Stadtaristokratie und der Künstler der Stadt verherrlichten. Der Umzug aus der Kirche in kommunale Gebäude machte aus dem liturgischen Gerät ein Kunstobjekt. Die Flügel des Drapenieraltars der St. Bavokirche, die Maerten van Heemskerk geschaffen hatte, wurde mit einer neuen Mitteltafel versehen, die der katholische Maler Cornelis van Haarlem schuf, zusammen mit anderen Gemälden – die im Haarlemer Prinsenhof gezeigt wurden – zu einem Dokument der innovativen Haarlemer Malerei.42 So dekorierte Rathäuser, Prinzenhöfe, Doelen und Dollhäuser wurden damit Vorläufer der öffentlichen Museen. Der Kindermord des Herodes, der in der zeitgenössischen Literatur mit der Schreckensherrschaft Alva’s assoziert wurde, war zugleich ein Monument des Aufstandes.43 Die protestantischen Stadtregierungen trennten sich von einem Teil des kulturel- len katholischen Erbes durch Verkauf nach außerhalb, letzteres, um zu vermeiden, dass es in katholischen Hauskirchen der eigenen Stadt wieder seine ursprüngliche liturgische Funktion bekäme.44 Bei katholischen Familien, die vor dem Bildersturm die durch sie gestifteten Altäre gerettet hatten, dienten diese jedoch weiter dem Vollzug der Messe, nun als Hausaltäre. Welche Funktion die ursprünglich devotionale Kunst also nach der Alteratie hatte, hing von der Denomination des Besitzers ab. Bei reformierten Besitzern verliert die religiöse Kunst offiziell ihre Bedeutung als vereh- renswertes Andachtsbild. Für Katholiken behielt das Andachtsbild jedoch seine ur- sprüngliche devotionale Funktion. Das hatte Folgen für den Umgang damit. Ich will das am Beispiel des Kruzifixes verdeutlichen: Das Kruzifix wurde für strenge Kalvinisten zum Symbol des Katholizis- mus.45 Bei der Alteratie wurde das Kruzifix aus dem Amsterdamer Bürgermeisterzim- mer entfernt. Für Katholiken wurde das Kruzifix oder Kruzifixbild dagegen geradezu ein Erkennungszeichen. Ein Kruzifix oder Kruzifixbild hing nicht selten im Himmel- bett, so etwa bei dem katholischen Amsterdamer Maler Pieter Lastman.46 Dieser produzierte mit seiner Werkstatt für die Amsterdamer Katholiken zahlreiche Kreuzi- gungsbilder, die offensichtlich für den häuslichen Rahmen bestimmt waren und die devotionalen Bedürfnisse des Gläubigen befriedigte.47 Eines dieser Bilder besaß seine

42 Ausführliche Bibliographie zu dem Gemälde bei P. J. J. van Thiel, Cornelis Cornelisz. van Haarlem, Doornspijk 1999 Nr. 42. Zu dem Anspruch der Haarlemer Malerei vgl. die im Abschluss begriffene Dissertation von Petra Jeroense über die Harlemer biblische Historienmalerei um 1600. 43 Johan Isaaks Pontanus, Historische Beschrijvinghe de seer wijt beroemde Coop-stadt Amsterdam, Amster- dam 1614, S.101 verweist auf Beza, der den Kindermord des Herodes mit den Greueltaten Alva’s verglich. 44 Vgl. dazu T. van Bueren, Tot lof van Haarlem. Het beleid van de stad Haarlem ten aanzien van de kunstwerken uit de geconfisqueerde geestelijke instellingen. Amsterdamse Historische Reeks, Grote Serie, Bd. 17, Hilversum 1993. 45 Kalvin geht im I. Buch seiner Institutio von 1559 im Kap. XI *(III, 96, 8–16) auf die Kruzifixe ein. Die Kruzifixe können nichts von Gott lehren. Die Heiligenbilder vollends sind perditissimi luxus et obscoenita- tis exemplaria (95,9). Die Bordelle sind daher nach Calvin keuscher als unsere Tempel (95,11 ff). 46 S. A. C. Dudok van Heel, Pieter Lastman (1583–1633). Een schilder in de Sint Anthonisbreestraat, Kroniek van het Rembrandthuis 91/2 (1991), S. 2–15, der auf S. 12 ff das Inventar von Lastmans Besitz am 7. Juli 1632 abdruckt. Dort wird auf S. 12 „een crusifix in de bedstede“ aufgeführt. 47 Vgl. den Oeuvrekatalog von A. Tümpel, Pieter Lastman (im Druck) Kat. Nrn. 175–184; E. de Heer, Kruisigingsscènes door Pieter Lastman. Kroniek van het Rembrandthuis, 92/1 (1992), S. 20–25.

213 Lieblingsnichte, eine Begine.48 Katholische Geistliche und Angehörige von geistli- chen Orden ließen sich oft mit einem Kruzifix abbilden.49 Wenn also auch das plastische Kruzifix geradezu zu einem Erkennungs- und Bekenntniszeichen der Katholiken wurde, die Kreuzigung selbst war ein biblisches Geschehen und wir sollten uns vor einer zu starken Abgrenzung hüten. Wir wissen nämlich nicht, ob die erbauliche Ausstrahlung von ausgesprochen devotionalen Bildern als Wanddekoration nicht auch bei Mitgliedern der reformierten Kirche nachgewirkt hat. Zwischen Lehre und Praxis mag es manche Unterschiede gegeben haben. Wir dürfen nicht vergessen, dass das Leiden Christi auch von Protestanten in Gedichten und Meditationstexten geradezu bildlich beschrieben wurde, dass letztere von Illu- strationen begleitet waren, so dass in Egodokumenten noch zu prüfen bleibt, ob nicht auch Protestanten durch Bilder der Jugendgeschichte und Passion Christi religiös angesprochen wurden.50

Die Auferstehung der religiösen Kunst als Historienmalerei mit biblischem Thema Wurde von den Reformatoren die Verehrung der Bilder abgelehnt, die pädagogi- sche Wirkung des religiösen Bildes als Merkbild, als Armenbibel wurde allgemein anerkannt. Die Reformatoren und die Humanisten billigten die religiöse Malerei in einer Form, die sich im 16. und 17. Jahrhundert durchsetzen sollte: nämlich in der Form des Historienbildes, in dem die biblische Geschichte – wie es Zwingli formuliert – nur in Geschichtswyss abgebildet ist:51 „allerlei Handgemäld, Gleichnussen, bei deren bedeutenden Dingen man nichts sucht, denen man auch keine Ehr beweist.“52 Auch der

48 S. A. C. Dudok van Heel, op. cit. 91,/2 (zit. in Anm. 46), S.11, Anm. 38 (Not. C. Touw, N. A: A. nr. 1458, dd 28. 5. 1655 („een schilderije van de cruycinge Christie door haar oom Lasman“). Vgl. A. Tümpel, Pieter Lastman (zitiert in Anm. 47.), Kat. Nr. 179a. 49 Vgl. zum Beispiel Claes Cornelisz Moeyaert, Porträt von Marius Goezanus. Monogrammiert und datiert: CL M f Ao 1647. Beschriftet: D. Leonardus Marius STD Pastor Begginagii Etc. Amstel. Amsterdam, Pastorat des Begijnhof (A.Tümpel, op. cit. (1974) [zitiert in Anm. 33]), Kat. Nr. 288; Claes Cornelis Moeyaert, Porträt des Joan Banning Wuytiers auf seinem Totenbett, Auf der Rückseite bezeichnet: AETA- TIS SU. 36 (sic). CL m fc. 1647. Holz 55,5×70,5 cm. Ankeveen, St. Martinus, Pastorat (A. Tümpel, op. cit. (1974), Kat.Nr. 289). Vondel schrieb ein Gedicht auf die Aufbahrung des Geistlichen. Am vorbildlichen Leben dieses Geistlichen exemplifiziert Vondel indirekt die katholische Rechtfertigungslehre, denn er beschreibt ihn als einen ,Heiligen‘, der durch sein Leben und Handeln erlöst. Für diesen Geistlichen war der Altar seine Schutzburg und das Kreuz seine Stütze. So interpretiert Vondel das Motiv, daß der Geistliche vor einem Altar, auf dem von Leuchtern eingerahmt ein Kruzifix steht, aufgebahrt abgebildet ist. Daher wird er vor dem Altar aufgebahrt abgebildet. Die Konfession des Auftraggebers ist bei Bildern von katholischen Geistlichen durch die liturgische Kleidung oder das Kruzifix im Hintergrund meist evidenter als bei Historienbildern. 50 Rembrandt malte für den Statthalter Frederik Hendrik eine Passionsserie (C. und A. Tümpel, Rem- brandt. Mythos und Methode. Königstein i. T. 1986. S. 133ff. Sein letzter Schüler, der fromme reformierte Arent de Gelder, schuf in seinen letzten Lebensjahrzehnten, eine umfangreiche Passionsserie von insgesamt 22 Darstellungen (vgl. J. W. von Moltke, hrsg. von Kristin L. Belkin, Arent de Gelder. 1994, S. 51). Wir finden Gemälde mit Passionsszenen bei Katholiken wie bei Protestanten, allerdings sind Szenen aus der Kindheitsgeschichte und Passion in Sammlungen von Katholiken und hier besonders bei Beginen und Klokken häufiger anzutreffen, da sie eine Verbindung von Christus und Marienverehrung zuließen und der Meditations-praxis, wie sie von Jesuiten und anderen Orden propagiert wurde, entgegenkam. 51 Zwingli, Werke II 568 (Einleitung) 52 Zwingli, Werke IV 94

214 strengere Calvin akzeptierte Historienbilder neben Landschaften, Landschaften, Stadt- ansichten, Architekturbilder, Stilleben ausdrücklich und förderte damit die Entwick- lung der Fachmalerei. Luther forderte, überall, in Kirchen, Friedhöfen, Häusern und Stuben, sollte die heilige Geschichte, mit Sprüchen erläutert, zu finden sein: „Es ist ja besser, man male an die Wand, wie Gott die Welt schuf, wie Noah die Arca bauet und was mehr guter Historien sind, denn daß man sonst irgendwelche weltliche und unverschämte Dinge malet; ja wollte Gott, ich könnte die Herren und Reichen dahin bereden, daß sie die ganze Bibel inwendig und auswendig an den Häusern vor jedermans Augen malen ließen – das wäre ein christlich Werk.“53 Der katholische französische Humanist Corrozet polemisierte in seiner Einleitung zu den Historiarum Veteris Testamenti Icones von Hans Holbein d. J. gegen die Darstel- lungen von Wiedergaben aus der antiken Götterwelt und schlägt vor, statt dessen die Zimmer mit biblischen Geschichten auszuschmücken.54 War hier sowohl von Luther als auch von Corrozet noch an biblische Historienbil- der in der Form van Wandmalerei gedacht worden: die Idee setzte sich durch in der Form der Dekoration der Zimmer mit biblischen Kabinettsbildern. Dieser Bildtyp war schon im 15. Jahrhundert entwickelt worden und feierte im Laufe des 16. und 17. Jahrhunderts Triumphe. Es wurde üblich, die Häuser reich mit Kabinettsbildern zu dekorieren, unter denen die Bilder mit biblischen Historien anfangs einen beträchtlichen Prozentsatz einnahmen. Die biblische Kabinettmalerei hatte zwei wichtige Quellen: einerseits den biblischen Humanismus, andererseits die Kunst der Gegenreformation. Die Reformation selbst mit ihrer Rückkehr zu den ursprünglichen Quellen war ein Kind des Humanismus. Den größten Einfluss auf das Verhältnis der Protestanten zum Bild übte Luther langfristig dadurch aus, dass er seine Übersetzungen der Bibel mit Illustrationen erscheinen ließ und die Herstellung einer Bilderbibel forderte, ja selbst im Anhang seines Betbüchleichs den Prototyp einer solchen Bilderbibel veröffentlich- te.55 Luthers Vorschlag lag offensichtlich in der Luft, denn er wurde nicht nur sofort aufgegriffen. Auch Verleger bekamen unabhängig die gleiche Idee.56 Sie schufen – in gelegentlich interkonfessionell zusammengestellten Arbeitsgruppen von Textautoren, Entwerfern, Stechern und Verlegern – Bilderbibeln. Bestimmend war die enzyklopä- dische Einstellung. Der reiche Themenschatz des Spätmittelalters wurde aufgeschlos- sen und verbreitet, so dass sich Anzahl der behandelten Themen ständig mehrte. Die Buchdrucker vermerkten manchmal ausdrücklich und stolz, es seien vorher nie so viele Illustrationen gebracht worden.57

53 WA XVIII 82f 54 P. van der Coelen, De Schrift verbeeld. Oudtestamentische prenten uit renaissance en barok, Nijmegen 1998, S. 88 (Diese Arbeit wird 2001 in deutscher Sprache in der Reihe Vestigia Bibliae, hrsg. von H. Reinitzer als Bd. 23 erscheinen). 55 C. Tümpel, op. cit. (1983) (zitiert in Anm.1), S. 312f; Eine ausführliche Analyse von Luthers Bilderbibel und ihrer Folgen bietet Van der Coelen, op. cit. (1998) (zitiert in Anm. 54), S. 17–58 56 Van der Coelen, 1998 (zit. in Anm. 54), S. 59 ff 57 C. Tümpel, Studien zur Ikonographie der Historien Rembrandts. Deutung und Interpretation der Bildinhalte, Nederlands Kunsthistorisch Jaarboek 20 (1969), S. 107f.

215 Mit ihrer chronologischen Anord- nung, mit ihren meist nur den Inhalt der Historie wiedergebenden Unter- schriften überwinden diese Illustrati- onsfolgen das typologische System des Spätmittelalters. Neben Bilderbibeln erscheinen ähnliche Darstellungsfol- gen zu einzelnen biblischen Büchern oder zu in sich abgeschlossenen oder zusammengefassten biblischen Erzäh- lungen, etwa zu den Gleichnissen oder zu dem Leben einzelner Patriarchen. Diese Buchillustrationen und Stichfol- gen waren eine wichtige Bildungsquel- le für die Maler, Bildhauer und Kunst- handwerker der Renaissance und des Barock.58 Sie griffen dankbar darauf zurück, wenn sie Kabinettbilder schu- fen (katholische oder lutherischen Kir- chen mit Bildern ausstatteten) oder Kunstgewerbe mit biblischen Szenen 14. Rembrandt, Die Kreuzabnahme. Um 1633, schufen. Dabei bedeutete die Denomi- signiert. Holz 89,4×65,2 cm. (München, Alte Pinakothek) nation des entwerfenden Künstlers kein Kriterium der Auswahl. Das enzyklopädische Zeitalter liebte die Kuriosität, das Seltsame. Viele Barock- künstler malten seltene Szenen, die zuvor nie in der Tafelmalerei dargestellt worden waren: der Katholik Rubens etwa die erste Verstoßung der schwangeren Hagar nach der Bilderbibel des Protestanten Tobias Stimmer, der katholische Pieter Lastman Elisäus und die Sunamitin nach der Kupferstichserie des Lutheraners Maerten de Vos. Selbst biblische Darstellungen oder Allegorien, die von einer bestimmten Konfession als Ausdruck oder Verteidigung ihrer Lehre wiedergegeben worden waren, konnten auch von Künstlern oder Kirchen anderer Konfessionen rezipiert werden, wobei die Inhal- te neu verstanden werden konnten. Nicht nur die enzyklopädische Graphik mit biblischen Themen aus dem 16. und 17. Jahrhunderts wurde von den Historienmalern im höheren Genre der Historien- malerei umgesetzt. Auch die Neuerungen der Altarmalerei der Gegenreformation, die in den Niederlanden durch Reproduktionsstiche oder Nachzeichnungen bekannt

58 C. Tümpel, Studien zur Ikonographie der Historien Rembrandts. (Diss.) Hamburg 1968, S. 24ff; ders., Ikonographische Beiträge zu Rembrandt. I und II. Jahrbuch der Hamburger Kunstsammlungen 13 (1968), S. 95–126; 16 (1971), S. 20–38, vgl. bes. S. 21ff; ders., op. cit. (1974) (zitiert in Anm. 11), S. 127–150; ders., op. cit. (1983) (zitiert in Anm. 1), S. 309–321; C. und A. Tümpel, op. cit. (1986), (zitiert in Anm. 50), S. 49ff u. ö.; P. van der Coelen, De schrift verbeeld: oudtestamentische prenten uit renaissance en barok. Nijmegen (Diss.) 1998; ders. Patriarchs, angels and prophets: the Old Testament in Netherlandisch printmaking from Lucas van Leyden to Rembrandt. Ausst. Kat. Amsterdam 1997. Amsterdam/Leiden 1997.

216 wurde, wurde in das Medium des Kabinettbildes umgesetzt. Caravaggio’s Kompositi- on der Berufung des Matthäus wird von Terbrugghen in eine Halbfigurenkomposition übertragen. Rembrandt verdichtet Rubens’ monumentale Altarbildkomposition der Kreuzabnahme (Antwerpen, Kathedrale) in seiner Kreuzabnahme der Passionsserie (München, Alte Pinakothek, Abb. 14) zu einem kleinen Kabinettbild. Er benutzt dabei die Pathosformel der kirchlichen Monumentalkunst (etwa die durch den runden oberen Abschluss altarähnliche Form), um dem Bild ein besonderes Gewicht zu geben. Entscheidend ist aber für ihn, dass er ein ästhetisch herausragendes Kunstwerk schaffen muss, das wegen seiner künstlerischen Qualität und bewegenden Darstellung seinen Platz in der Sammlung behauptet. Von daher erlaubt er sich neue künstlerische Freiheiten. Er plaziert z. B. die Figuren nicht mehr alle zum gläubigen Betrachter hin, sondern staffelt sie kunstvoll im Bildraum, stellt das Kreuz schräg etc.59 Die Bilder mit religiösen Themen sind in den Bildsammlungen eben anderen ästhetischen Gesetzen unterworfen als in der Kirche.60 Sie werden auch in andere Kontexte eingefügt, so dass eine Passion möglicherweise neben Aktstudien oder Darstellungen aus der antiken Mythologie zu hängen kommt.61 Die biblische und die antike Geschichte waren für das 17. Jahrhundert Exempel für die eigene Geschichte, für die persönliche wie für die nationale.62 So hat Lambert Doomer, Schüler von Rembrandt, den Apotheker François Wijnants und Alida Es- singh als Elkana und Hanna, die ihren Sohn Samuel dem Hohen Priester präsentieren (Abb. 14).63 Nicht lange nachdem der Amsterdamer Apotheker François Wijnants (um 1633– 1680) ein neues Haus an der Keizersgrachterworben hatte, bestellte er bei Lambert Doomer dieses Gemälde. Der Auftraggeber ist rechts im Hintergrund in der Rolle von Elkana dargestellt; seine Frau Alida Essingh hält als Hanna ihren jüngsten Sohn, François, der Samuel verkörpert, bei der Hand und stellt das Kind dem Hohepriester vor. Eli thront vor dem Eingang zum Tempel und unterscheidet sich von den übrigen Personen durch seine Priesterkleidung und den vom Betrachter abgewandten Blick. Seine Darstellung ist demnach kein Porträt. Ein zweiter Sohn der Familie, der zehn- jährige Dirck, ist rechts im Vordergrund porträtiert. Die ungewöhnliche Themenwahl des Ehepaars steht vermutlich mit der Kinder- sterblichkeit in der Familie in Zusammenhang. In den Jahren vor der Entstehung des Gruppenporträts waren vier der sechs Söhne aus der Familie als kleine Kinder gestorben. Nicht nur die Urne, die Dirck festhält, sondern auch das Totenhemd, in das François gekleidet ist, sind Hinweise auf den Tod. Die biblische Erzählung, in der sich das Ehepaar darstellen lässt, erzählt von einer kinderlosen Frau, Hanna, die das

59 C. Tümpel,1990 (zit. in Anm. 1), S. 155. 60 C. Tümpel, Rembrandts Passionsdarstellungen. In: A. A. Clement (ed.), Das Blut Jesu und die Lehre von der Versöhnung im Werk Johann Sebastian Bachs. Amsterdam/ Oxford/ New York/ Tokyo 1995, S. 79–99. 61 C. Tümpel, 1990 (zit. in Anm. 1), S. 155 62 Zum Rollenporträt vgl. R. Wishnevsky, Studien zum „portrait historié“ in den Niederlanden (phil. Diss.) München 1967. 63 G. Pastoor in: C. Tümpel (Hrsg.), Im Lichte Rembrandts. Das Alte Testament im Goldenen Zeitalter der niederländischen Kunst. Zwolle 1994, Nr. 40.

217 Gelübde abgelegt hat, sie wolle ihr Kind, „den von Gott Erbetenen“, Gott zu weihen und ihn entsprechend zum Heiligtum bringt, um ihn der Sorge des Hohenpriesters Eli anzuvertrauen. Die am Leben gebliebenen Kinder werden hier als die Gott abgerun- genen verstanden. Durch die Verwendung dieser Motive wird die dargestellte bibli- sche Geschichte auf die Familiengeschichte bezogen, und die Bestimmung von Samuel zum Tempelpriester wird zum Symbol für die Kindersterblichkeit. Nicht nur das private, auch das Öffentliche Leben konnte durch die Identifikation mit alttestamentlichen Geschichten gedeutet, angeeignet, auch erklärt werden. Im Jahre 1629 wurde Herzogenbusch von dem Statthalter Frederik Hendrik eingenom- men. Sein in vielen Liedern und Lobgedichten verherrlichter Sieg über die Spanier wurde bisweilen mit der Geschichte von David und Goliath verglichen. So auch in diesem Gemälde, von Jacob Gerritsz. Cuyp (1630. ’s-Hertogenbosch, Rathaus), in dem Frederik Hendrik in der Rolle des Hirtenjungen David mit Schleuder und Hirtenstab vor dem Hintergrund der Silhouette von ’s-Hertogenbosch abgebildet ist.64 Zu seinen Füßen liegt das abgeschlagene Haupt Goliaths, in dessen Stirn der Stein steckt, der den Riesen tötete. Ein schwebender Engel hält David als Ruhmeszeichen einen Lorbeerkranz über den Kopf. Musizierende und singende Jungfrauen personi- fizieren, mit dem jeweiligen Wappen als Schmuck im Haar, die sieben Provinzen. Gelderland, die erste Provinz, wird von einer alten Frau vorgestellt, (die aus einem Psalter Psalm 98,1 singt). Die Erneuerung der Kunst nach dem Bildersturm und dem Beginn des Aufstandes wurde in der ersten Generation vor allem von einheimischen katholischen Künstlern (Cornelis von Haarlem, Goltzius, Bloemaert) und protestantischen flämischen Immi- granten (Karel van Mander) bewirkt. Die Italienreisenden unter ihnen vermittelten nicht nur die neuen stilistischen Entwicklungen der Altarmalerei, sondern auch die große Form. Anfangs waren die Protestanten unter den religiösen Historienmalern in vielen Städten deutlich Vertreter einer Minderheit. Erst in der dritten Generation verschob sich das Gewicht zugunsten der Protestanten unter den Historienmalern.

Der Einfluss des Marktes und der Auftraggeber auf die Themenwahl Für den Markt mit seinem Gesetz von Angebot und Nachfrage schufen die Maler nicht nur Werke, die der Lehre ihrer eigenen Konfession entsprachen, noch konnten sie sich permanent mit den Themen beschäftigen, die sie künstlerisch interessierten. Ihr Kunstwollen wurde vielmehr von Auftraggebern oder vom Markt wesentlich mitbestimmt. Die in den nördlichen Niederlanden aus den Kirchen vertriebenen Gilden und sonstigen städtischen Gruppen ließen nach der Alteratie ihre Memorien- kunst für säkulare, meist städtische Räume schaffen.65 Während etwa die Kloveniers- gilde im rekatholisierten Antwerpen 1619 den Altar in der Kathedrale als liturgischen Ort für die Totenmesse der verstorbenen Brüder und für die feierlichen Messen der Bruderschaft mit einem Triptychon von Rubens schmücken ließ, gaben die Kloveniere im pluralistischen Amsterdam für ihr Doelengebäude säkulare Gruppenporträts in

64 Gabriel Pastoor in: C. Tümpel (Hrsg.), op. cit. 1994 (zit. in Anm.1) Nr. 42.

218 Auftrag, welche die Schützen präsentieren und für die späteren Generationen zur Erinnerung festhalten (z.B. Rembrandts Nachtwache).66 Im Laufe des 17. Jahrhunderts verdrängen in der Kabinettmalerei die Darstellun- gen säkularer Themen immer mehr die religiösen. Haben in den Delfter Inventaren zu Beginn des 17. Jahrhunderts über ein Drittel aller Bilder (37 %) religiöse Themen, so sind es am Ende des Jahrhunderts nur noch knapp ein Sechstel (15 %).67

Literaturverzeichnis

Albert Blankert, Kunstbezit Parkstraatkerk, Den Haag 1978 J. Bruyn, Rembrandt’s keuze van Bijbelse onderwerpen. Utrecht 1959 Truus van Bueren, Tot Lof van Haerlem. Het beleid van de stad Haarlem ten aanzien van de kunstwerken uit de geconfisqueerde geestelijke instellingen, Hilversum 1993 Alan Chong & Marjorie E. Wiesemann, „De figuurschilderkunst in Dordrecht.“ In: De Zichtbaere Wereld, schilderkunst uit de Gouden Eeuw in Hollands oudste stad. Zwolle/Dordrecht 1992, S. 13–33. A. Th. van Deursen, Het kopergeld van de Gouden Eeuw, Assen 1979, 2. Aufl. 1991. P. Dirkse, „Kunst uit Oud-katholieke Kerken“. In: Kunst uit Oud-katholieke kerken, Utrecht, Rijksmuseum Het Catharijneconvent 1989, S. 6–33 Xander van Eck, De decoratie van de Lutherse kerk te Gouda in de zeventiende eeuw. Oud Holland 105 (1991), S. 167–184 Xander van Eck, From doubt to conviction: clandestine Catholic churches as patrons of Dutch Caravaggesque painting. Simiolus 22 (1993/4), S. 217–234. Xander van Eck, Kunst, twist en devotie: Goudse katholieke schuilkerken 1572–1795 (Diss. Utrecht) Delft 1994. Xander van Eck, The artist’s religion: paintings commissioned for clandestine Catholic churches in the northern Netherlands, 1600–1800. Simiolus 27 (1999), S. 69–94.

65 Die Entstehung des säkularen Gruppenporträts wurde durch verschiedene Entwicklungen gefördert: durch die Reformation entstand eine multikonfessionelle Gesellschaft. Die Bruderschaften und Gilden hatten zwar bis zur Alteratie ihre Kapellen gemäß den liturgischen Vorstellungen der katholischen Kirche zu unterhalten, doch bestand unter den Mitgliedern über die Ausstattung der Kirche keine Einigkeit mehr. Nach der Alteratie wurde den Gilden und Bruderschaften die Kapellen in den Kirchen weggenommen, sie erhielten – wenn sie nicht schon vor der Alteratie kommunale Gebäude, bzw. Versammlungsräume zur Verfügung gestellt bekommen hatten – diese. Befreit von ihrer Verpflichtung, Kapellen mit Altären zu unterhalten, wurde das säkulare Gruppenporträt von vielen Bruderschaften, Gilden und Vorständen als die Form des neuen Repräsentations- und Memorialbildes übernommen. Vgl. dazu C. Tümpel, „De Amsterdamse schutterstukken.“ In: Schutters in Holland. Ausst. Kat. Haarlem 1988 Haarlem/Zwolle 1988, S. 74–103; ders., op. cit. (1990) (zit. in Anm.1); ders., De Amsterdamse schutterstukken, Pantheon 49 (1991), S. 121–138. 66 Zur Nachtwache vgl. u. a. C.Tümpel, „Beobachtungen zur ‚Nachtwache‘.„In: (Hrsg.) O. von Simson, J. Kelch, Neue Beiträge zur Rembrandtforschung, Berlin 1973, S. 162–175; E. Haverkamp Begemann, The Nightwatch. Princeton 1982; C.Tümpel, De invloed van de Nederlandse Opstand op de iconografie van de Amsterdamse schuttersstukken, De zeventiende eeuw, 10/1 (1994), S. 133–140. 67 Vgl. die Tabelle bei J. M. Montias, Artists and artisans in Delft: a socio-economic study of the seventeenth century, Princeton 1982, S. 242, Tab. 8.3. Gabriël Pastoor machte mich in einem Gespräch darauf aufmerksam, dass Montias den Kunstbesitz im ersten Jahrzehnt des 17. Jahrhunderts fälschlich als eine Widerspiegelung der Kunstproduktion ansieht. Der hohe Anteil religiöser Kunst im ersten Jahrzehnt ist jedoch nicht allein durch die hohe Produktion an religiöser Kabinettkunst zu erklären, sondern dadurch, dass für Kirchenräume bestimmte Kunst von den Stiftern in ihre Privathäuser gerettet worden waren. Vgl. auch Tümpel, op. cit. (1994) (zitiert in Anm. 11), S. 22f.

219 Barbara Haeger, Barent Fabritius, Three paintings of Parables for the Lutheran Church in Leiden. Oud Holland 101 (1987), S. 91–114. J. Hoogewerff, Nederlandsche schilders en scholing in de 17de eeuw, Medelingen van het Nederlandsch Historisch Instituut in Rome 9 (1929), S. 149–174, vgl. bes. S. 169–174. Otto J. de Jong, Nederlandse kerkgeschiedenis, Nijkerk 1972, 3. Aufl. 1985. Walter Liedtke, The three parables by Barent Fabritius with a chronological list of his paintings dating from 1660 onward. The Burlington Magazine 119 (1977), S. 316, 319–327. John Loughman, „Een stad en haar kunstconsumptie: openbare en privé-verzamelingen in Dordrecht, 1620–1719.“ In: De Zichtbaere Wereld, schilderkunst uit de Gouden Eeuw in Hollands oudste stad. Zwolle/ Dordrecht 1992, S. 34–71. Volker Manuth, Denomination and iconography: the choice of subject matter in the biblical painting of the Rembrandt circle, Simiolus 22 (1993/4), S. 235–252. C. W. Mönnich & Michel van der Plas, Het woord in beeld. Baarn 1977. J. M. Montias, Artists and artisans in Delft: a socio-economic study of the seventeenth century, Princeton 1982. J. M. Montias, „Works of art in seventeenth-century Amsterdam: an analysis of subject and attributions“, in: D. Freedberg, J. de Vries (Hrsg.), Art in History/History in Art: studies in seventeenth-century Dutch culture, Chicago 1991, S. 331–372. Rob Schillemans, Schilderijen in Noordnederlandse katholieke kerken uit de eerste helft van de zeventiende eeuw, De zeventiende eeuw 8 (1992), S. 41–52. Seymour Slive, Notes on the relationship of protestantism to seventeenth-century painting, The Art Quarterly 19 (1956), S. 3–15. J. Spaans, Haarlem na de Reformatie: stedelijke cultuur en kerkelijk leven 1577–1620, Den Haag 1989. P. T. A. Swillens, Roomsch-Katholieke kunstenaars in de 17de eeuw. Katholiek Cultureel Tijdschrift 1 (1945– 6), Bd. 2, S. 416–419. Christian Tümpel, „Die Reformation und die Kunst der Niederlande.“ In: Hamburg (1983), Luther und die Folgen für die Kunst, hrsg. Von Werner Hofmann. München 1983 S. 309–321. Christian Tümpel, Artikel „Künste, Bildende. III. 16.–18. Jahrhundert.“ In: Theologische Realenzyklopädie 3. Aufl. Bd 20 Berlin/ New York S. 145–163. Utrecht (1983), Luther en de Lage Landen, Utrecht, Rijksmuseum Het Catharijnenconvent 1983. Utrecht (1989), Kunst uit Oud-katholieke kerken, Utrecht, Rijksmuseum Het Catharijnenconvent 1989. Utrecht (1991), Jezuïeten in Nederland, Utrecht, Rijksmuseum Het Catharijnenconvent 1991. Visser, C. Ch. G., De Lutheranen in Nederland, Dieren 1983. Mieke van Zanten, Orgelluiken. Traditie en iconografie. De Nederlandse beschilderde orgelluiken in Europees perspectief. Zutphen 1999.

220 ACTA UNIVERSITATIS PALACKIANAE OLOMUCENSIS FACULTAS PHILOSOPHICA NEERLANDICA II – 2003

Netherlandish Art of the Seventeenth Century as an Expression of Cultural Identity

Ludo Beheydt (Université Catholique de Louvain & University of Leyden)

The period from 1585 to 1680 has traditionally been described as the ‘Golden Age’ of the Netherlands. The Fall of Antwerp in 1585 was not only the critical moment in the cultural scission between the North and the South, but was also the beginning of the conscious construction of a specific Netherlandish Cultural Identity. This con- struction of a cultural identity was the natural outcome of the process of the formation of the nation. The Netherlands had become an independent Republic and this factual reality led to the development of an ‘imagined community’ (Anderson 1991) with a specific cultural identity, at least with a new elite. In this sense the creation of a Netherlandish culture was a by-product of the creation of an imagined community by an intellectual elite. The famous anthropologist Fredrik Barth has already indicated how the genesis of a cultural identity begins with the creation of a boundary. In his famous study Ethnic groups and boundaries (1969) he showed how boundary formation is prior to the creation of the shared culture it encloses. He stated that in general:1 “[a]n imagined community is promoted by making a few [neatly contrasting] diacritica highly salient and symbolic, that is by an active construction of a boundary.” This is exactly what happened in the evolving Dutch Republic, an intellectual and economic elite created an ‘imagined community’ by embracing a few characteristics in which it contrasted maximally from its former oppressor the Spanish reign. The Dutch Republic would be everything Spain was not.

12 3 4

AUTHORITY RELIGION LANGUAGE ART

The Dutch Republic

Federalism Calvinism Dutch Indigenous

Spain

Centralised Catholicism Spanish/French International

Figure 1. The Dutch Republic as the opposite of Spain

1 Fredrik Barth, Enduring and emerging issues in the analysis of ethnicity, 1994, p. 16.

221 The new Republic presented itself as a federation of States with Protestantism as its public religion, Dutch as its own language and an indigenous art rooted in the local environment. And this in contradistinction to centralised and catholic Spain, govern- ing in Spanish and French and adhering to an international courtly art.

1. Authority Against the authoritarian centralised authority of the Spanish king the new repub- lic defended oligarchy as its idiosyncratic form of authority. In the Republic the authority was divided over the States and an intellectual regents’ class promoted this form of government in word and writing. In a fervent plea which he published in Latin, in Dutch and even in English,2 the great humanist and lawyer Hugo Grotius presented this form of government as an ancient Batavian heritage. His Tractaet van de Oudtheyt van de Batavische nu Hollandsche Republique3 started from the view that from time immemorial the burghers of Holland had placed authority into the hands of a count or a duke and that there had never been a centralised authority in Holland. On the authority of Grotius this form of government is also literary extolled in a theatrical form by P.C. Hooft in his Baeto (1617), an historical drama that glorifies the birth of the Dutch nation. Baeto is the story of the legendary forefather of the Batavians who is chosen as the king of the Dutch and takes an oath that confirms the sovereignty of the States over the authority of the king: Ick sweer, nae wys en wetten, d’heerschappije Bij raadt van d’edelst en de best’ der burgerije Te voeren over u, myn lieden; dien naer my, Met wien ghy ‘t houdt, voortaan uw naam Baethauwers zy

[I swear, to assume the government according to ways and laws advised by the noblest and the best of the burghers, over you my people, whose name will be from now on Batavians, after me whose side you reside on.] In Geeraert van Velsen (1613), an earlier play that dramatised the insurrection against the tyrant Floris V, Hooft had already clearly transmitted the message that the authority of the States is theirs by right from times immemorial: ‘s Landts Staeten, die ghespaert hebben bloedt noch schatten, noch sorch, in ‘s vrijheyts dienst, die sullen dan hervatten het aensien en ghesagh dat haer van oudts toekwam. [The States of the Country, that have not held back either blood or treasures or cares, at the service of freedom, will then resume the fame and authority that came to them from times immemorial.]

2 Hugo Grotius, A Treatise of the Antiquity of the Common-wealth of the Battavers, London 1649 [TMD no. 710] 3 Hugo de Groot, Tractaet vande ovdtheyt vande Batavische nv Hollandsche Republique, s’-Graven-Haghe 1610 [TMD no. 698]

222 Thus intellectuals and literary authors contributed to the development of a sense of national identity. This sense of nationality was given an historical embedding by historiographers like Bor and Van Meteren, but especially by P.C. Hooft who gave the young republic a jewel of a history in which he put the Netherlands on the scene as a model for the rest of Europe. He originally started this work in Latin but soon opted for Dutch as the form of expression. In a letter to his friend Wytz he confessed: “It would perhaps be more useful to write in pure Latin” but he hastened to add: “in which language however the accomplishments of a people of a different tongue, could not be expressed as accurately”. In this way he combined pride in his own nation with the choice of his own language.

2. Religion Against the typical Spanish authoritarian Catholicism that had made itself ex- tremely unpopular with the inquisition, the Republic opted for Protestantism as its public religion. This choice was officially confirmed by the National Synod of Dor- drecht (1619). To take Protestantism as characteristic of Dutch identity was not an obvious choice as Protestantism had never been anything more than the religion of a minority. In 1587 Protestantism was the religion of no more than 10% of the population of Holland (Geyl 1930). Protestantism was hence a hazardous bond. The States however chose the protestant religion as the officially supported religion because it could serve as a common medium against the Catholic enemy. It is thus no wonder that one of the first things the General States did was to order an official Dutch translation of the Bible, thus linking civil authority, public religion and the autochthonous language. Paradoxically enough, the choice of Calvinism was at the same time a choice for tolerance as the Calvinist minority could not afford to be too repressive in matters of religion. In this respect as well the new Republic distinguished itself from the Spanish oppressor with its Catholic despotism.

3. Language Nothing is more boundary forming and identity creating than the sharing of a common language. Every language provides a way of seeing and a set of blinders. The new Republic could best delineate itself from the Spanish oppressor by using a different language and could best create its own cultural identity by cherishing the autochthonous language of the land. By making Dutch the official language of the Republic, the emerging nation could distinguish itself from the surrounding nations and from Spain. It will thus come as no surprise that the political, religious and cultural elite made every effort to make Dutch an instrument of national, religious and cultural cohesion. Dutch hence became the cement of the growing cultural identity. Linguists and artists contributed to the standardisation and unification of the still highly diversified dialectical variation. Linguists codified the language in grammars, spelling books, dictionaries and pronunciation guides (Van der Wal 1996). Literary

223 authors, as well, eagerly participated in the standardisation debate. Bredero and Hooft, for instance, consciously drew from the popular language for their literary works and resisted foreign influence. The ‘Prince of Dutch Literature’, himself, Joost van den Vondel, militantly took part in the public debate about spelling and pronunci- ation. He found the Dutch of The Hague and Amsterdam “allervolmaeckst” (all- perfect) and he loathed the vernacular of Antwerp as “te walgelijck” (too disgusting) and that of old Amsterdam as “te mal” (too crazy). Yet the artistic contribution of these writers has been more important than their theoretical interference. They published a great literary body of work that factually proved that the new language could compete with Latin, French or Italian. Bredero not only published beautiful poetry, but he also produced culturally autochthonous drama. His Spaanse Brabander (1618) (Spanish Brabanter) is a fundamental expres- sion of the newly acquired Hollandic self-consciousness. “The play stands out from other Dutch drama of the period by its vivid local colour and correlated local patriotism” and the auto-image of the Amsterdammers presented in the character of Robbeknol is a proto-nationalistic idealisation which includes “the projection of unfavourable traits on the outgroup, and the attribution of favourable characteristics to the ingroup” (Hoense- laars 1991, Van Stipriaan 1997). Hooft in turn is a typical Renaissance author who after his Grand Tour through France and Italy had been impressed by the Italian Renaissance authors and now wanted his Dutch poems to sound as musical as those of Petrarch. At the same time, however, he is the playwright who Plautus’ Aulularia as he says “naer ‘s Landts ghelegenheyt verduytscht” (dutchifies [the Aulularia] according to the ways of the country) into Warenar, an indisputable authentic Amsterdam comedy. Constantijn Huygens, the Calvinist humanist and cosmopolite, and the secretary of the Prince of Orange, did not hesitate to write a eulogy of The Hague as well as De Klucht van Trijntje Cornelis, a comedy of manners in which he showed himself deeply rooted in the native culture. Vondel, finally, is the great baroque playwright, who in the ceremonial historical tragedy Gijsbrecht van Aemstel relates the destruction of Amsterdam but simultaneously predicts its glorious future as the centre of Dutch civilization. As a manifestation of national pride this play was the ideal opening for the new Amsterdam theatre (Parente 1993). In this way Dutch literature of the seventeenth century expressed the newly won Netherlandish cultural identity in its most articulated way.

4. Art The Netherlandish art of the seventeenth century is deeply entrenched in the native culture and unabashedly expresses the cultural identity of the new nation. Netherlandish artists take great pride in their own community and their local environ- ment. This explains why they express a sense of Dutch cultural identity in their works of art. I know that there has been a taboo on the study of cultural identity in Dutch art (De Jongh 1990; Schwartz 1993), but in this respect I agree with Van de Wetering who stated that:

224 “the taboo on the acceptance of significant differences in national identity – has had as the consequence that the recognition and the study of these differences can hardly take place anymore” (Van de Wetering 1993, my translation). Therefore I believe it is worthwhile to look at art from this perspective. I have already mentioned the literature of the authors who wanted to create a Dutch literature which could compete with the Latin and the Greek. I should add to this exclusively literary contribution the bi-medial production of emblems. The Amsterdam writer-merchant Roemer Visscher (1547–1620) proudly promises in his introduction to Sinnepoppen, a collection of emblems, to amuse his audience in “onze taal” (our language) with the same funny images and lessons as the Latins, the Italians and the French, “dat onse tale genoech beslepen ende bedisselt is, om dese Voordansers te volgen met eenen lustigen tret.” (as our language is sufficiently sharpened and polished”, he says,“ to follow these exemplary dancers in a cheerful gait.) In his emblematical illustrations he has collected an impressive ‘hollandized’ iconography. Karel Porteman epitomized the Dutch vocation of this collection of hollandized emblems in the following words:4 “The Sinnepoppen offer a world fixed in close-up of specific netherlandica: ships, sluices, mills, turnstiles, beacons, rammers, framesaws, dragnets, butter churns, skaters, pole jumpers, shells and tulips, even in this way forming an arresting account of Dutch identity.” The accompanying texts to these netherlandica are also truly Hollandocentric: they praise the value of everything native. In this way the humanist emblematics have been culturally appropriated to express the Netherlandish identity. In the creation of the Netherlandish cultural identity prints, either accompanied by texts or not, have played a conspicuous role. The enormous production of prints, some of them idealised projections of the new nation (Tanis & Horst 1993) or idyllic views of the local scene (Claes Jansz. Visscher, Pleasant Places, 1611), others depictions of the atrocities of the Spanish ruler (Wilkins 1987), still others allegorical depictions for propagandistic invective (Janson 1993) has contributed to an impressive cultural image building. The fact that the emerging sense of cultural identity would also be expressed in seventeenth-century art-historiography will come as no surprise. At the moment when the Low Countries felt the need to manifest themselves culturally in contradistinction to the Mediterranean culture, a growing pride over the autochthonous art was becom- ing noticeable. This pride is not Flemish or Dutch, it is truly ‘Netherlandish’ in the sense Panofsky (1953) used this word, i.e. it still refers to the whole of the Low Countries, The Dutch Republic as well as Flanders. At the occasion of his recently published work about Flemish art and architecture 1585–1700, the Flemish art historian

4 K. Porteman, The Idea of Being a Dutchman: Normative Self-reflection in Early 17th-Century Amsterdam. 1996, p. 236

225 Hans Vlieghe notes that the artists active in the Southern Netherlands and those active in the Northern Netherlands still belonged to the same artistic tradition and that their art had much in common: its bourgeois character, its iconography and its typology.5 Perhaps it is worthwhile noticing that this whole-Netherlandish spirit was also reflected in much of the literature. Even in 1648, at the occasion of the festivities for the Peace of Munster in Amsterdam, Vondel ‘s ‘lantspel’ De Leeuwendalers was performed with great success and though meant as an expression of joy over the newly gained independence it was as much an expression of hope to see the North and the South reunited.6 Apart from its whole-Netherlandish character this emerging pride in art-historiog- raphy is remarkable for the special course it takes. It starts with the subtle reversal of the well-known clichés and it ends up in straightforward chauvinism. In the sixteenth century the well-known cliché about the art of the Low Countries was the one ascribed to Michelangelo who stated that Flemish art could only be appreciated by women, monks, nuns and others “who are not capable of understanding true harmony” and that “[I]n Flanders they paint, before all things, to render exactly and deceptively the outward appearance of things.”7 This sense of deceptive illusionary realism mocked at by Michelangelo is considered a typical quality by seventeenth- century art-historians. The first one to express his unconcealed admiration for Northern art, Nether- landish and German, is Karel van Mander. Van Mander makes no distinction between Flanders and the Netherlands. In his Schilder-boeck (1604), he does not distinguish the Flemish painters from the Dutch painters. His book of painters can actually be considered as a manifesto of a growing awareness of artistic identity. This Nether- landish identity is distinguished from that of Antiquity and from that of the Italians. And although Van Mander is an admirer of Italian art he does not fail to praise the Netherlands that have been blessed “with the highest honour in the art of painting. For what was never granted to either the ingenious Greeks, Romans or other peoples to discover – however hard they tried – was brought to light by the famous Netherlander from Kempen, Joannes van Eyck, who was born at Maaseik on the notable river Maas – which on account of this honour can rival the Arno, the Po and the proud Tiber, for on her banks a brilliant light emerged, so resplendent that art-loving Italy could only behold it with complete astonishment.” (Miedema 1994) Van Mander is not the only one to consider Netherlandish art as the expression of a cultural identity. Hugo Grotius also saw in the art of his fellow countrymen a superior artistic achievement. In his comparative study of peoples Parallellon, he too, inverts Michelangelo’s criticism and praises the work by Lucas van Leyden above that of the Italians. Comparable chauvinistic artistic pride may be found in Philip Angel’s Lof der schilder-konst (1642), in Huygens’ survey of the Netherlandish art in his autobiography

5 H. Vlieghe, Flemish art and architecture 1585–1700, 1998, p. 1. 6 H. Schepper, Rond de Vrede van Munster, 1999, p. 24. 7 Quoted in J. Huizinga, The Waning of the Middle Ages, London 1990 (original 1924), p. 254.

226 (1631) and in Samuel van Hoogstraeten’s Inleiding tot de Hooge Schoole der Schilderkunst (1678). The latter almost nationalistically boasts that ‘Painting in our state, like in a new Greece, is in its full bloom’. The Netherlandish self-confidence and the pride over the Netherlandish nation is not only evident from the treatises about art, but is also strikingly apparent in the many maps of the Netherlands that were published during the 17th century. It is remarkable and noteworthy that in cartography as well the Netherlands are presented as a unity. Long after 1585 the 17 Provinces are represented in the form of a heraldic Leo Belgicus. These maps are often decorated by ‘kaartafzetters’ (map decorators) with beautiful vignettes of cities from the North and the South. Maps were popular as home decorations in the seventeenth century as we may infer from the many paintings in which they are depicted. These maps undeniably show the emergent patriotism. This love for the local country is also apparent in Dutch painting. The painters listened to the voice of the burgeoning feeling of cultural identity that called out to them:8 “Paint your own land as it is; the houses of your cities, their canals, their market places; the sea at your coast, with your own ships; your dunes, with church roofs at the horizon; the cows of your meadows, and above these meadows the special view of your skies; paint the moon, as it reflects in the still or broken water of your own rivers; the sun as it lightens the court-yards of your houses; paint the flowers of your gardens, the fruit of your orchards, the venison of your hunting fields, the birds that of your country-places, the gold and silver chasing of your buffets; paint Dutch taverns, Dutch kitchens, Dutch brooms, the flame and light of the Dutch candles.” This nationalist principle has been applied by Dutch painters in all its diversity in a range of specialities that characterise Dutch art. It has been a prevailing opinion since Busken Huet’s Land van Rembrandt that only the so-called autochthonous art of the seventeenth century was a true expression of the Dutch cultural identity and that the baroque and classicist art that enjoyed the preference of the court was not an original expression of Dutch identity.9 I think it is high time we did away with this artificial dichotomy. It is my belief that the complete artistic production – autoch- thonous, classicist and baroque – contributed to the formation of what we now recognise as the cultural identity of Dutch art. In this view the Flemish contribution to the creation of the Dutch cultural identity has its natural place.

4.1 Landscape In the seventeenth century landscape painting suddenly becomes the glorification of the local environment. Following up on the print makers and the cartographers who had provided a documentary album of the Netherlands, painters took care of a lyrical portrait of the nation. Through their patriotic pictures of their own environment and by the “many references to the familiar diacritica of the imagined community – mills, fishers, watch towers, strongholds at the river, spires on the horizon – they created an album of gentle visual clichés which we now call typically Dutch”10

8 C. Busken Huet, Het land van Rembrandt, 1884, p. 50, my translation. 9 See E. H. Kossmann, Hoe Nederlands is de Nederlandse literatuur?, 1994, pp. 5–6.

227 Interestingly, this visual transcription of the Dutch environment was paralleled by the literary description of the Dutch landscape. In literature too there is a striking preference for the local landscape. We find it, for instance, as a Natureingang in a number of the songs of Hendrik Laurenz. Spiegel’s Hert-spieghel, written about 1600. As a Dutch poet Spiegel still took the Dutch landscape as a pretext for moralistic admonition. Purely topographical descriptions, however, begin to appear in literature as well. In the stream poem De roemster van de Aemstel a journey on the Aemstel is so accurately described that the Poëtische beschrijvinghe van de Riviere Aemstel could be used as a reliable guide for day-trips on the Aemstel. Though it is true that in their enthusiasm for their own country a number of painters find new subjects in the flat polders, the low skies, the dunes, the Dutch riverscapes and seascapes and in the Dutch countryside, their preference should not be considered as a total rupture with the past, as the unsurpassed Flemish 16th century Pieter Breughel had already introduced the Flemish villages in The Blind, the Skaters or The Peasants’ Dance. As an example of the interest in the local environment I would like to refer to Jacob van Ruysdael’s View of Haarlem (Mauritshuis) which has the bleaching fields of Haarlem at the foot of the dunes. In the background is the silhouette of Haarlem with the monumental church of St. Bavo. The town and the countryside around it are realistically and splendidly represented. That in the glorification of the local environ- ment the towns share in the praise need not surprise us. Painters reveal the beauty of the towns. In addition, townscapes become very popular as the regents are chauvinis- tically proud of their own town. The Dutch society is an oligarchic urban society and the urban chauvinism finds an outlet in the artistic production, as well in painting as in literature. Ruysdael’s views of Haarlem find their literary counterpart in Samuel Ampzing’s Beschrijvinge ende Lof der Stad Haarlem in Holland (1628) and his View of Amsterdam (ca.1675) is paralleled by Vondels incessant literary praise of the city.

4.2 Still-life Still-life also becomes an expression of the Dutch cultural identity. Schama has already given a typical Dutch interpretation of the contrast between the sober and spare breakfast pieces of the 1620s and 1630s by Pieter Claesz. and Willem Claesz. Heda on the one hand and the later flamboyant and luxurious pronkstillevens by Willem Kalf and Abraham van Beyeren on the other hand. He saw it as the Calvinist paradox of sobriety and affluence, as the tension between faith and wealth (Schama 1991, 1994). No doubt many of the still-lifes have Calvinist messages, although we should be wary of a too simplistic Calvinist interpretation of the sober ‘ontbijtgens’, as a closer inspection of the iconography reveals the poly-interpretability of much of these paintings. Along with, however, the sober still-lifes and the still-lifes of ostentation, the Leyden Vanitas paintings constitute an idiosyncratic Dutch iconographic system of symbols of the protestant identity of the new nation. It suffices to take a closer look at

10 S. Schama, Kunstzaken, 1997, pp. 71–72, my translation.

228 Pieter Claesz.’s Vanitas Still-Life (1630, Mauritshuis) to understand the Calvinist message of the painting: the skull, the overturned glass, the watch, the smouldering candle, the eaten at book are all symbols of the transitoriness of life on earth. They all warn memento mori! The Calvinist messages in painting also found their counterpart in the literary production. A Protestant writer like Johan de Brune published moralistic emblems in Emblemata of Sinnewerck (1624) in which a number of the still-life emblems give an explicit literary moralistic lesson. Again it should be noted that the still-life was not a totally new speciality but had been prepared by Flemish still-life painting. In the earliest still-lifes of Van Beyeren for instance there is still a clear influence of the Flemish still-life painting, especially that of De Heem.

4.3 Genre painting The iconographic originality of the Dutch genre painting has been considered as the most authentic image of the Dutch cultural identity. The deceptively realistic illusions of the every day life scenes with their frequently moralistic undertones define the cultural identity of Dutch art in a most articulate way. Genre painting in the seventeenth century is really ‘Dutch virtue explained’ to use a term that was intro- duced by R.H. Fuchs (Fuchs 1978: 36–61). The scenes are in every sense recognisably Dutch: the values and the norms are Dutch. Be they funny or lively like Jan Steen’s or restrained and subtle like Vermeer’s they always illustrate the intimacy of ordinary Dutch life. To take one example I would like to refer to Jan Steen’s Saint Nicholas Feast (ca 1665–1668, Rijksmuseum Amsterdam). It is hardly possible to think of a genre painting that would be more illustrative of Dutch cultural identity than this represen- tation of the great yearly Dutch family feast. For the children, Saint Nicholas Eve (5 December) is the peak of the year. To be able to interpret this scene one has to be familiar with every day Dutch life and folklore. Just as other specialities found their counterpart in literature, genre painting found its counterpart in Dutch drama. The comedies and jests by Bredero, Hooft and Huygens are just the kind of mocking and unembellished representations of ordinary Dutch life as the paintings by Jan Steen. In fact some of the genre paintings represent scenes from popular comedies. These genre paintings go back to a Flemish tradition. Breughel painted them in his peasant scenes, De Beuckelaer painted them in his market and kitchen scenes and just like in Holland “genre painting in Flanders (…) carried a sometimes barely concealed moral lesson”.11

4.4 Portrait Painting Portrait painting also has an indigenous Dutch character. The Dutch regent who has acquired wealth and affluence is proud of his newly acquired prestige, but even in

11 Vlieghe, op. cit. (1998), p. 9.

229 this proud self-representation a Protestant reserve is never far away. The portraits combine the pride of the bourgeois Dutch society with Calvinist restraint. The portrait of Marritghe Claesdr. Vooght (Vienna) by Frans Hals has the unique Dutch combination of Protestant sobriety and bourgeois dignity. In her distinguished black frock, Maritghe is an example of a pious regentess. Her bible is her help and stay. There were, of course, other portraits as well, the ceremonial portraits of the court members executed by famous painters like Van Mierevelt or by Flemings like Van Dyck and Rubens. These ceremonial portraits were also meant as contributions to the honour and the prestige of the new nation. They were the internationally recognisable testimonies of Dutch excellence. Portraits too had their literary counterparts, as well in drama as in prose. While Hooft’s Geeraerdt van Velsen and Vondel’s Gijsbrecht van Aemstel are literary portraits in a dramatised form, Hooft has given us ceremonial portraits in the prose of historical persons in his Neederlandsche Historiën. That portrait painting had its Flemish precursors needs no explanation for those who are acquainted with the work of the Flemish Primitives and that Flemish painters contributed to the glorification of the Dutch identity is, among others, proven by the ceremonial portraits of Frederick Hendrik (Muso del Prado – Madrid) and Amalia van Solms (Museo de Prado – Madrid) by Antonis Van Dyck and by The Triumph of Frederick Hendrik (Huis ten Bosch – The Hague) by Jacob Jordaens.

4.5 History Painting Since the 19th century Dutch history painting has been considered as a lesser contribution to Dutch cultural identity. We owe to Busken Huet the idea that in history painting the Dutch were not original, but were merely epigones of the prevail- ing international fashion. Yet, the Dutch contemporaries considered history painting as the highest form of art and surely the praise of the Dutch identity is to be found in its most explicit form in history paintings which glorify the new nation in historical scenes. Therefore history painting should not be neglected in the survey of the Dutch cultural identity in painting. A number of painters from the North and the South have contributed to the glorification of the new Dutch nation. I only refer here to the magnificent Oranjezaal in the Huis ten Bosch that was painted by Jacob Jordaens and no less than five painters from the South. Dutch painters, however, contributed their share as well. Gerard ter Borch, Govert Flinck, Jurriaen Ovens and, of course, Rembrandt with his Conspiracy of Claudius Civilis. A truly Dutch history painting that glorifies the oligarchic urban society and the Amsterdam bourgeois virtues is Marcus Curius Dentatus by Govert Flinck.12 The Roman general Marcus Curius Dentatus prefers the simple turnips to the gold that is offered by the enemies of Rome. Could the idea of Dutch bourgeois virtue be better represented than by this symbolic history painting that was commissioned for the Town Hall of Amsterdam.

12 M. Westermann, A Worldly Art. The Dutch Republic 1585–1718, 1996, p. 102.

230 History painting was mirrored in historical dramas. There was, for instance, the Truerspel van de moordt, begaen aan Wilhem bij der gratie Gods prince van Oraengiën (1617) by Gysbert van Hogendorp, performed at the occasion of the opening of the Dutch Academy and we know Het moorddadich stuck van Balthasar Gerards, begaen aen den doorluchtighen Prince van Oraignen (1606). There were also, however, the famous historical dramas by Hooft and Vondel, of which Vondel’s Gijsbreght van Aemstel in particular has acquired its “status as a cultural icon.”13

4.6 Biblical and Mythological paintings For a very long time biblical and mythological works have been neglected and even stifled in Dutch art history. They were considered as fake indulgences to the snobbish tastes of an internationally oriented audience. As they did not show ordinary Dutch life, they were considered as ‘undutch’ by 19th century art critics. Yet iconographically the biblical and mythological themes were more often than not illustrations of genuine Dutch values and norms.14 They expressed the Dutch cultural specificity in an internationally understandable and humanist form. The biblical painting Joseph selling Wheat to the people (Barber Institute of Fine Arts – University of Birmingham) by Bartholomeus Breenbergh, for instance, links the bourgeois values of prudence and providence to the Protestant inspiration of the Old Testament. Joseph, the beloved son of Jacob, had predicted that after seven years of affluence there would be seven years of starvation. He had consequently stored the wheat during the ‘seven fat years’ and when the period of starvation began, “Joseph opened the granaries and sold the wheat to the Egyptians”. In the Protestant view of the commercial regents, this biblical story served as an example for a nation that had to remain prepared for God’s unfathomable plans. Sometimes the biblical paintings were even a mere excuse for proto-nationalistic propaganda, as in the famous painting in Dordrecht by Van der Helst which repre- sents the Dutch Prince Frederick Hendrik as the biblical David, surrounded by the seven muses (the Seven Provinces!), who has slain the ‘Spanish’ Goliath (see the contribution by Christian Tümpel in this Proceedings). That biblical and mythological themes had their precursors and parallels in Flem- ish paintings is obvious. And it is equally obvious that there was a biblically inspired literature that had the same moralistic undertone as the biblical paintings. For the biblical plays I could refer to Het Pascha ofte de Verlossinge Israels uut Egypten (1612) or to Hiërusalem verwoest (1620) by Vondel. His predecessor in the Brabant Chamber of Rhetoric Abraham de Koning, however, had already written several biblical dra- mas, of which Iephta (1615) and Achab (1618) are the best known.

4.7 Architectural painting Architectural painting might at first sight seem unrelated to Dutch cultural identi- ty. Yet it is in many respects relevant as well. In particular, the many representations of Protestant churches by Saenredam, Houckgeest and Witte give a cool and austere

13 J. A. Parente, The theatricality of History in the Dutch Golden Age, 1993, p. 248. 14 M. Westermann, op. cit. (1996), p. 102.

231 picture of the Protestant religion. These paintings are examples of sobriety in compar- ison with the luxurious paintings by the Catholic painters of the Counter Reformation. As a typical illustration here, I would like to draw your attention to The tomb of William the Silent in the Nieuwe Kerk in Delft (1651) by Gerard Houckgeest. Houck- geest links Protestantism and proto-nationalism in a completely natural way. He has painted this theme many times and his interest in this theme may readily be explained as an expression of cultural identity. In 1648 the United Provinces had gained inde- pendence and had created a Protestant state. By representing the tomb of the ‘Father of the country’ William of Orange in a bare Protestant church, Houckgeest created a highly symbolic national image. Again, architectural painting was not new in the Netherlands. Need we be remind- ed that Van Eyck as well as Van der Weyden had painted church interiors, of course not in the sober Protestant style, but the examples were nevertheless there.

5. Conclusion All in all it is obvious that Netherlandish painting in the seventeenth century has created a recognisable Netherlandish cultural identity which was paralleled in litera- ture and in which the Flemish contribution cannot be denied.

Bibliography

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232 S. Schama, The Embarrassment of Riches. An Interpretation of Dutch Culture in the Golden Age. London 1991. S. Schama, Kunstzaken. Amsterdam-Antwerpen 1997. H. de Schepper, Brussel & ’s-Gravenhage 1999. G. Schwartz, ‘The Destigmatization of Art Geography: A Preliminary Study of the Dutchness of Dutch Art.’ in: E. Kloek & L. Dorsman (reds.): Nationale identiteit en historisch besef in Nederland, 1993 R. van Stipriaan, Historische distantie in de Spaanschen Brabander. Nederlandse Letterkunde, 2:2 (1997), pp. 103–113. J. Tanis, & D. Horst. Images of Discord. A Graphic Interpretation of the Opening Decades of the Eighty Years’’ War. Grand Rapids, Wm. 1993. H. Vlieghe, Flemish art and architecture 1585–1700. New Haven & London 1998. M. van der Wal, De moedertaal centraal. Standaardisatie-aspecten in de Nederlanden omstreeks 1650. Den Haag 1996 M. Westermann, A Worldly Art. The Dutch Republic 1585–1718. New York 1996. E. van de Wetering, ‘Grenzen en het Hollandse van de Hollandse schilderkunst.’ in: J. C. Blom, J. Th. Leerssen & P. de Rooy (eds.): De onmacht van het grote: Cultuur in Europa. Amsterdam 1993, pp. 54–63. D. G. Wilkins, ‘Illustrating the Mirror of Spanish Tyranny.’ in: W. Fletcher (ed.) Papers from the second interdisciplinary conference on Netherlandic Studies. New York & London 1987, 147–155.

233 234 About the Authors

235 236 About the Authors

Ludo Beheydt is a full Professor of Dutch civilization and Dutch linguistics at the Université Catholique de Louvain (Belgium) and a guest professor of the honor- ary chair ‘The Netherlands in the World’ of Leyden University. He has also been a guest professor at the University of Amsterdam for ‘Culture of the Netherlands’. Professor Beheydt has done his PhD on Language Acquisition and currently specializes in multilingualism and multiculturalism. He has written several books in the domain of applied linguistics and has just finished a book on Dutch and Flemish art and culture under the title Eén en toch apart. Kunst en cultuur van de Nederlanden (2002). He has published quite a lot on cultural identity, language and cultural identity and art and cultural identity. Address: Unité d’Études Néerlandaises, Université Catholique de Louvain, Collčge Érasme, Place Blaise Pascale 1, B-1348 Louvain-la-Neuve E-mail: [email protected]

Jan Bloemendal (1961) studied Classical Philology and Dutch Philology at Utrecht University from 1979–1986 where in 1997 he defended his PhD thesis, Daniel Heinsius, Auriacus, sive Libertas saucia (1602). After working for several years as a teacher of Classical Philology and Dutch in Amersfoort, he became a fellow of the Constantine Huygens Institute of the Royal Dutch Academy of Sciences at The Hague in the year 2000. ‘Fondation Hardt’ fellowship at Geneva in 2001. Main publication: Daniel Heinsius. Auriacus, sive Libertas saucia (1602). (Diss. Utrecht, 2 vols.), Voorthuizen 1997. Address: Constantijn Huygens Instituut der KNAW, Willem-Alexanderhof 5/3, NL-2595 BE Tha Hague E-mail: [email protected]

Ingrid Ciulisová (1960) studied Art History at Comenius University, Bratislava from 1978–1983, where she defended her PhD thesis in 1995. She became a fellow of the Institute of Art History of the Slovak Academy of Sciences at Bratislava, special- ised in restoration and preservation of monuments and in Netherlandish paintings of the 16th century. A visiting member of the Netherlands Institute for Advanced Study in the Humanities and Social Sciences at Wassenaar in 2001; fellowship of the Istituto Universitario Olandes di Storia dell’Arte di Firenze in 2002. Main publication: Historicism and Modernism in Monument Care in Slovakia, Bratislava 2000. Address: Ústav dejín umienia Slovenskej akadémie vied, Dúbravská cesta 9, SK-813 64 Bratislava 4 E-mail: [email protected]

237 Ladislav Daniel (1950) studied Art History at Palacký University Olomouc, where he defended his PhD thesis in 1974 and in 1999 his habilitation. From 1981 to 2001 curator of Italian, French and Spanish Art of the National Gallery in Prague, in 1992 and from 2000 to 2001 director of the Dept. of European Art of the National Gallery, in 1993–1994 general director of the NG, since 2000 head of the Archdioc- esan Museum in Olomouc. Since 1998 member of the Dept. of Art History at Palacký University Olomouc, in 1999 became Assistant Professor, in 2001 head of the department and in 2003 Professor. Organised several exhibitions in the Nation- al Gallery in Prague, carried out both in the Czech Republic and abroad, acquired several major Italian art works and has published catalogues, articles and confer- ence papers. Fellow of Harvard University, Center for Renaissance Studies in Villa i Tatti in Florence (1989), Mellon Award of the American Academy of Rome (1997). Knight Officer of the Order of Merit of the Italian Republic (1999) for his research in Italian Art. Address: Katedra teorie a dějin výtvarného umění FF, Univerzita Palackého, Univerzitní 6, 771 80 Olomouc E-mail: [email protected]

Jonathan I. Israel (1946) studied history in Cambridge. He was Professor of Dutch History and Institutions at University College London from 1984 to 2000. Since January 2001 he is professor of Early Modern European History at the Institute for Advanced Study in Princeton. He published several works and articles on Jewish history and on Dutch history. His main works are The Dutch Republic. Its Rise, Greatness, and Fall, 1477–1806 (1995) and Radical Enlightenment. Philosophy and the Making of Modernity, 1650–1750 (2001). Address: School of Historical Studies, Institute for Advanced Study, Einstein Drive, Princeton NJ 08540 E-mail: [email protected]

Stefan Kiedroń (1955) studied German Philology with a specialisation in Dutch at the University of Wrocław, where he defended his PhD thesis in 1986 on Nieder- ländische Einflüsse auf die Sprachtheorie von Justus Georg Schottelius and in 1993 his habilitation on Andreas Gryphius und die Niederlande. Niederländische Einflüsse auf sein Leben und Schaffen. Since 1980 member of the Erasmus Chair for Dutch Philology at the University of Wrocław and since 1995 head of the Chair. Main publications: Een vraie historie ende al waer… Bloemlezing van middeleeuwse literai- re teksten uit de Nederlanden, Wrocław 1994; O Edel Neerlandt zoet. Bloemlezing van Nederlandse literaire teksten uit de Renaissance, Barok en Verlichting, Wrocław 1997. Address: Katedra Filologii Niderlandzkiej im. Erasma z Rotterdamu WF, Uniwersytet Wrocławski, ul. Kuźnicza 22, PL-50-138 Wrocław E-mail: [email protected]

238 Lubomír Konečný (1946) studied Art History at Charles University, Prague, where he defended his PhD thesis in 1971. From 1970–1990 and again since 1999, research scholar at the Institute of Art History of the Academy of Sciences of the Czech Republic, since June 2001 its director. From 1990 till the present Senior Lecturer at the Institute for Art History of Charles University; 1993–1995 professor of art history at Central European University, Prague. Visiting member of the Institute for Advanced Study in Princeton in 1987; awarded Paul Getty Grant Program fellowship in 1992/93, and Mellon fellowship at the Warburg Institute, University of London, in 1998. Numerous publications on Renaissance and Baroque art and architecture, iconography, emblematics, and on history and theory of art history. Address: Ústav dějin umění Akademie věd ČR, Husova 4, CZ-110 00 Prague 1 E-mail: [email protected]

Olga Kotková (1967) studied Art History at Charles University in Prague. She joined the National Gallery in Prague as assistant curator in 1990, and became curator of Netherlandish and German painting and sculpture of the 14th–16th century and Flemish painting of the 17th century. In 1997 was awarded a Mellon Research Fellowship at the Netherlands Institute for Advanced Studies in Wassenaar. Main publication: The National Gallery in Prague. Netherlandish Painting 1480–1600. Illustrated Summary Catalogue I/1. Prague 1999. Address: Národní Galerie, Hradčanské náměstí 15, CZ-119 04 Prague 1 E-mail: [email protected]

The late Lubor Machytka (1918) was one of the major Czech scholars of Art History of the 2nd half of the 20th century. Studied Law from 1937–1945 and Art History from 1955–1960 at Masaryk University in Brno. Conservator, than curator of the art collections at the Regional Museum of Olomouc. Unpublished PhD thesis about Netherlandish painting in the Olomouc and Northern Moravian collections. After 1968 dismissed for political reasons and worked as an assistant for Art History at the Regional Center for the Preservation of Monuments in Pardubice. After 1990, several stays abroad, among others at the Rijksbureau voor Kunsthis- torische Documentatie at The Hague where he had the possibility to proceed with his lifelong interest in Netherlandish art. He is the main author of the exhibition Olomoucká obrazárna II – Netherlandish Painting from the 16th through 18th centuries from the Olomouc collections. He died in 2001.

István Németh (1960) studied History, Art History and Netherlandistics at the Eötvös Loránd University (ELTE) in Budapest. Since 1989 curator of old art at the Szépmüvészeti Múzeum (Museum of Art) in Budapest. Several publications in Hungarian and international periodicals about Flemish and Dutch painting from

239 the 17th and 18th century. In 1996 became professor of Netherlandish art history at Károli Gáspár University (KGRE) in Budapest. Main publications: Het spreek- woord “Zo d’ouden zongen, zo pijpen de jongen” in schilderijen van Jacob Jordaens en Jan Steen. Motieven en associaties, Jaarboek Kon. Museum voor Schone Kunsten, Antwerpen 1990. pp. 271–286; Genre Painting in 17th and 18th-Century Central Europe, in: The Metamorphosis of Themes (Exh. cat.) Székesfehérvár 1993, pp. 132- 138; Schilderkunst als verlokkingsmiddel…, in: Károli-studies. Hongaarse bijdra- gen tot de Neerlandistiek, Budapest 2000, pp. 57–63. Address: Szepmüsveszeti múzeum, Dósza György út 47, H-1014 Budapest E-mail: [email protected]

Rudi T. van der Paardt (1943) studied Classical Philology in Groningen. Since 1971 member of the Department of Classical Philology at Leyden University. His main field of interest is the reception of Ancient Literature in later times from medieval times to the 20th century. He published several books and articles on the reception of the antiques in Dutch literature. Main editor of Klassieke Profielen (1988), published Mythe en metamorfose: antieke motieven in de moderne literatuur (1991). Contributor to Der neue Pauly (lemma Die Literatur in den Niederlanden). Address: Instituut voor Klassieke Talen der Universiteit Leiden, Postbus 9515, NL-2300 RA Leiden E-mail: [email protected]

Ruben Pellar (1949) studied German and Dutch Philology at Charles University in Prague from 1969–1973. Specialised in German literature. After his studies, worked as a librarian in metallurgy and medicine. Since 1988 translator and interpreter. Most important relevant works: (along with Olga Krijtová en Petra Schürová): Bibliografie van vertalingen uit het Nederlands in het Tsjechisch en Slowaaks vanaf 1890 tot 1993. Prague 1994; Translation of: Leon de Winter, Hoffman‘s Honger (Hoffmanův hlad, Prague 1999) and of Carel van Mander, Schilder-boeck into Czech. Prague 1977 (unpublished rough translation). Address: Nad Pískovnou 53, Praha 4-Krč, 140 00. E-mail: [email protected]

Eduard Petrů (1928) studied Czech Philology at Palacký University, Olomouc, where he became assistant of the University Library as head of the Kremsier Castle Library Fund in 1952. Since 1964 Senior Lecturer member of the Chair of Czech Studies at Palacký University, Assistant Professor for older Czech literature in 1968, professor of the history of Czech literature and theory of literature since 1986. Vice-dean of the Philosophical Faculty, member of the Faculty Scientific Council. Several stays abroad, e.g. in Graz, Lübeck, Opole and Vienna. Numerous publications in the field of older Czech literature, critical editions of older Czech

240 texts. Main publication in English: Humanism and the Early Renaissance in Moravia (with Ivo Hlobil), Olomouc 1999. Address: Katedra bohemistiky FF, Univerzita Palackého, Křížkovského 10, CZ-771 80 Olomouc E-mail: [email protected]

Maria A. Schenkeveld-van der Dussen (1937) is emeritus-Professor of Dutch Litera- ture of the Renaissance and Baroque at Utrecht University. She published several works in the field of interest, i. a. Dutch Literature in the Age of Rembrandt. Themes and Ideas (1991). She is main editor and author of Nederlandse Literatuur, een Geschiedenis (1993) and of Met en zonder lauwerkrans. Schrijvende vrouwen uit de vroegmoderne tijd (1997). Her last book is an edition of poems by Anna Roemersdr. Visser (1999) in co-operation with Annelies de Jeu. Address: Instituut Nederlands der Universiteit Utrecht, Trans 10, NL-3512 JK Utrecht E-mail: [email protected]

Hana Seifertová (1934) studied Art History and History at Charles University, Prague. From 1959 till 1970 director of the Regional Gallery in Liberec (Reichenberg) where she was mainly interested in old and modern art and formed a collection of Dutch painting of the 17th century. The most significant exhibition in Liberec organised by her was Socha a město (Sculpture and the Town) about modern sculpture in public spaces. Since 1971 working as a scientific assistant and as a curator of old art in the Collection of Old Art of the National Gallery in Prague. Main publications: Německé malířství 17. století (Exh. cat. National Gallery, Prague 1989; S ozvěnou starých mistrů. Pražská kabinetní malba 1695–1750 (Exh. cat. National Gallery Prague and Herzog Antron Ulrich Museum Brunswick, in co- operation with A. Ševčík), Prague 1997; Nizozemské malířství 16.–18. století ze sbírek Oblastní galerie v Liberci (Exh. cat. Regional Gallery Liberec, in co-opera- tion with L. Slavíček), Liberec 1995; …Et in Hollandia ego. Holandské malířství 17. a raného 18. století (Exh. cat. Moravská Třebová), Prague and Moravská Třebová 1998. Address: Národní Galerie, Staroměstké náměstí 12, CZ-110 15 Prague 1

Elsa G. C. Strietman (1947) is Senior Lecturer in Dutch at the Faculty of Modern and Medieval Languages of the University of Cambridge (UK) where she teaches the language and literature of the Low Countries. Her research is mainly in the area of the drama of the Rhetoricians about which she has published many articles. At present she is preparing, together with Peter Happe, a volume of 6 Dutch Rhetori- cians’ Plays in English translations and a volume of essays by various experts in this field, Learning, Religion and Theatre: Essays on the Drama of the Low Countries 1400–1625. A recent publication is a contribution to (ed.) William Tydeman,

241 Theatre in Europe. The Medieval European Stage 500–1550, Cambridge 2001. She is a Fellow and Tutor of New Hall, Cambridge. Address: Faculty of Modern and Medieval Languages, Department of Other Languages, University of Cambridge, New Hall, Sidgwick Avenue, Cambridge CB3 9DA E-mail: [email protected]

Christian Tümpel (1937) studied Theology, Philosophy and History of Art in Bethel, Heidelberg, Berlin and Hamburg. He defended in 1968 his PhD thesis on the histories of Rembrandt. After a stay at Warburg Institute, London, and the prepa- ration of the exhibition Rembrandt legt die Bibel aus in Berlin, he finished his theological studies and was after 1972 pastor in Hamburg, where he founded the “Kunstforum Matthäus”. De Jong van Beek en Donk Award of the Royal Nether- lands’ Academy of Sciences 1972. From 1984 until 2002 professor Iconography and Iconology and History of Art of the Newer Times at the Catholic University of Nimegues. Main works: Rembrandt mit Selbstzeugnissen und Bilddokumenten (1974, 9th edition 2002), Rembrandt, Mythos und Methode (1986 – translated in several languages). Main exhibitions: Deutsche Bildhauer 1900–1945. Entartet? (Nimegues, Haarlem, Bremen, Münster, Duisburg and Mannheim 1991/2) and Im Lichte Rembrandts. Das Alte Testament im Goldenen Zeitalter der nieder- ländischen Kunst (Amsterdam, Jerusalem and Münster 1991/1993/1994). Address: Waldstrasse 20, D-22926 Ahrensburg E-mail: [email protected]

Marc Van Vaeck (1959) is Senior Lecturer in the Department of Literature at the University of Leuven. Publications on sixteenth and seventeenth century Dutch literature, and Dutch emblem literature. His doctoral dissertation was published in 1994: Adriaen van de Vennes Tafereel van de Belacchende Werelt (Den Haag, 1635). 3 vols., Gent 1994. Since 2001 editor of Spiegel der Letteren. Tijdschrift voor Neder- landse Literatuurgeschiedenis en voor Literatuurwetenschap. Adress: K. U. Leuven, Faculteit Letteren, Departement Literatuurwetenschap, Blijde-Inkomststraat 21, B-3000 Leuven, Belgium. E-mail: [email protected]

The conference was held at the Museum of Art in Olomouc, in connection with the official opening of the exhibition Olomoucká obrazárna II – Netherlandish Paintings from the 16th to the 18th Centuries in Olomouc Collections. The Museum of Art was opened in 1990 at its present site and is now one of the most important cultural institutions in Moravia.

242 The Chair of Netherlandic Studies of the Philosophical Faculty of Palacký University was co-organizer of the conference. The lectureship of Dutch was re-established in January 1992 by order of Josef Jařab, the first post-communist rector of the university. Since then the lectureship became one of the most important institu- tions for Netherlandish studies in Central Europe. In 2003 it became one of the three Central-European Chairs of Netherlandic Studies.

243 ACTA UNIVERSITATIS PALACKIANAE OLOMOUCENSIS FACULTAS PHILOSOPHICA PHILOLOGICA 81 – 2003 NEERLANDICA II

Vydala a vytiskla Univerzita Palackého v Olomouci, Křížkovského 8, 771 47 Olomouc www.upol.cz/vup

Hlavní redaktor: Dr. Wilken Engelbrecht Výkonný redaktor: prof. PhDr. Ingeborg Fialová, Dr. Odpovědný redaktor: Mgr. Jana Kreiselová Technický redaktor: RNDr. Miroslava Kouřilová a Jitka Bednaříková

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