Carel Fabritius’ Beloved Goldfinch and Netherlands Wine.

The silent little bird, chained to his perch, may have been a witness to what happened that day, October 12, 1654. I imagine that the artist, Carel Fabritius, had the subject of this painting somewhere in his studio. His studio, a rambling old building in an area of warehouses, was a place where the rent was cheap and the space ample – every artist’s dream. The only great misfortune was that it was right beside the Delft Gunpowder Depot, where on that day in 1654, someone’s careless match blew up not only the depot but a full one quarter of the city of Delft. Fabritius, his goldfinch, and most of his artistic production didn’t have a chance. Recent examination of the painting of the little bird, The Goldfinch, would seem to indicate that the painting was in the studio that day, as it contains tiny bits of debris traceable to the explosion. Luckily for future generations it survived, as it not only is one of the few works left by this young master painter, but it may also be a link in a chain that would connect Rembrandt to Vermeer.

The subject is an interesting one to explore, starting with those paintings we have by Fabritius that show the influence of Rembrandt. Rembrandt was known for dark backgrounds, and rich colors, as well as dramatic compositions. We can see Fabritius adhering to that formula in his portrait above, with a rather murky background, the dramatic flash of red clothing, and a bit of a scowl on his face. Rembrandt used heavy impasto treatments, especially on garments. His use of impasto was revolutionary at the time and that influence on Fabritius can also be seen, though used differently.

In 1648 Fabritius left Rembrandt’s studio to go his own way. That led him to move to Delft in 1650 where he became a member of what is known as the Delft School, which included Vermeer. It has long been speculated that Vermeer may have been a student of Fabritius, though it has not conclusively been proven. What is known is that in the early 1650s Vermeer turned toward his famous domestic scenes. They are famous for their stillness, and for capturing a moment in time focused on the beauty of the ordinary, often with light backgrounds and the use of impasto, like here in the crusts of bread on the table in The Milkmaid c. 1654.

The most interesting thing in all these suppostions about Fabritius and Vermeer is that the newly renovated Mauritshuis Museum has chosen to pay special attention to two of these artists’ works. Before the renovation they each hung on walls full of other paintings, and while one could get up close to study them, there was always the distraction of some other old master hung nearby. Now The Goldfinch is on a wall by itself, and Vermeer’s Girl with a Pearl Earring has also been separated from the madding crowd of old masters.

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Here we see them side-by-side. Fabritius has his uncluttered light background. Vermeer has gone both Rembrandt, and Fabritius one step further by having a black background. In each the limited backgrounds serve to focus the viewer on the subject of the piece. What links these two paintings is their simplicity, along with their real subject: silence. The goldfinch may have just chirped a lovely tune; the girl may have just spoken. However, in this moment there is just the silence. It is that silence that seems to me to be the real subject of the painting. If that is so, then even though they are of material beings, these paintings deal with the immaterial. Silence is the most immaterial of all things, as you cannot touch it, smell it, taste it or see it. You can’t even hear it, for it makes no noise.

So while we may never know what the link is between Fabritius and Vermeer exactly, we are left with the supposition that Fabritius, being Rembrandt’s best student, took from him important technical learning like the use of impasto, before he went on to create his own style of quieter, more contemplative paintings like The Goldfinch. Fabritius and Vermeer were both in the same group of painters in Delft and likely to have known one another well. Vermeer’s turn to his now famous quiet domestic scenes happened after Fabritius’ arrival in Delft, with one of his first, The Milkmaid, painted in 1654 showing signs of that 3D impasto that Rembrandt was so famous for (see those bread crumbs). The connections are more than possible but the evidence? Well, perhaps we will never know because the evidence disappeared along with Fabritius and his work when the Gunpowder Depot exploded.

Paintings used here are in public domain.

Marjorie Vernelle is an artist, writer, college professor, and traveler. For more see the Pages at ofartandwine.com or her author page at amazon.com and her art at Vernelle Art Boutique vernellestudio.com.

What? Netherlands Wine!

The country known as the Netherlands is a country that has always known struggle. Its lands have been reclaimed from the sea and have sometimes had to be sacrificed again when the Dutch people have opened their sluices to fend off invading armies (like that of Louis XIV in the Franco-Dutch War 1672-1678). Simon Schama, the historian, wrote a wonderful book about the formation of what is sometimes called The Dutch Republic. In The Embarrassment of Riches, he details how this consortium of seven different states formed itself through its 80-some years of battles with Spanish overloads and its many years of battles with the sea to become a trading superpower in the 17th century. So much was it the envy of the rest of Europe that countries with more high and mighty attitudes about themselves called this small gathering of countries the “Low Countries.” Yes, they were low-lying countries easily invaded by the sea, but one can sense the pejorative snear. Even the current name of the Netherlands indicates a certain distance, as though this nation which is right on the doorstep of Germany and France is somehow far away in some nether world.

With conditions like that, it is easy to see how the people of this republic would become hearty and perservering, qualities much valued by its Protestant religious base. Though they dressed in black and white as befitted their religious persuasion, they did not, however, eschew the fineries of life and that included wine. Their involvement with wine goes right back to the middle ages. In their trading heyday, they brought vines to what is now South Africa in a successful attempt to find good soil for growing grapes. At home, their own cold climate was a disaster for grapes like Merlot, and making Cabernet Sauvignon was impossible. However, Chardonnay, Riesling, Pinot Gris and Pinot Blanc grapes grow nicely in the cold and thus was born the Netherlands wines. They continue to experiment with different varieties and have some 180 commercial vineyards, mostly in the far southern area of Limburg and in the sandy soil of Gelderland.

While beer has always been a drink more easily associated with the Dutch, in the 17th century, it was not uncommon for the women in the household to go to the wine cellars to select just the right wine for special occasions like weddings. One sees famous paintings by the likes of Vermeer in which men and women share a glass of wine in the intimate settings inside a house. (See “Seduction and Vermeer’s The Glass of Wine,” ofartandwine.com). One of his famous pieces seems in fact to be a warning about consuming too much, as we see below in this picture of a servant girl who has perhaps drowned her sorrows in wine. (The empty wine glass is barely visible, but it is there along with the white wine jug.)

So what is the future for these unlikely wines?

Wines were prominent in the famous Dutch banquet paintings done by such greats as Pieter Claesz (see OfArtandWine.com). Like today’s Dutch they favored Rieslings and Chardonnay, most of which were imported. For more on this period of Dutch involvement with wine, I suggest a spirited article from the National Gallery of Art called “Dutch Burghers and Their Wine: Nary a Sour Grape.” nga.gov. Now the Dutch can produce their own and currently produce rosé wines as well. As lovers of wine, though they can import, it is all the more valient that they have decided to grow their own.

Cathy Huyghe in her article for Forbes Magazine, “Wine from the Netherlands? Believe it – This New Book Explains Why,” talks of the struggles in the development of Dutch wines including experimentation with the taste of the wine. She admits that she never brings bottles of wine home in her suitcase but has recently found several types in Amsterdam that she, yes, carried home in her suitcase.

For those of us who will not be traveling soon to Europe to taste the various wines available there, another solution is possible: join a wine club. You can look at the details of one here in the pages, just click the link ofartandwine.com to find out about Cellars Wine Club.

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©marjorie vernelle 2020

Wayne Thiebaud’s San Francisco and Napa Valley Wines.

Ripley Street Ridge, 1977, private collection, copyright Wayne Thiebaud. To be used for purposes of review and critique in accordance with Fair Use Policy.