RKD STUDIES

A representation we refer to today as genre scene, depicts a scene from everyday life, featuring anonymous figures. In the modern era, we regard such representations as depictions of a way of life and its circumstances, and possibly as demonstrations of entertaining events. In the 17th century however, pictures were more than that. They offered insights into profound and spiritual matters which could be associated with everyday impressions. As put by Samuel van Hoogstraten (1627-1678) in 1678, ‘Painting is a science which can illustrate any idea or concept that is offered by anything that is visible in nature’.¹ There is now a rich body of literature on symbolism in Dutch and Flemish 17th-century art, which provides an overall impression of the ambition of depictions of interiors, scenes from everyday life, landscapes, and still lifes. The 1976 Amsterdam exhibition Tot lering en vermaak, and the follow-up show in Braunschweig, Die Sprache der Bilder, made the long misunderstood meaningful background of profane imagery from the early modern era accessible to a wider public.² The references and allusions that are recognizable in those images did not follow a symbolic code, but corresponded to the visual experience at the time which factored in many hidden meanings in momentary impressions. Genre paintings depicted aspects of everyday life which were loaded with meaning, similar to printed literature or theatre plays. They were made mostly for sale on the open market in stalls at fairs, in bookshops and in lotteries, and were the least restricted and cheapest part of the picture production that targeted an anonymous buying public. From the 1620s, many depictions of anonymous protagonists were created in Hals’s workshop, partly inspired by the master’s head studies – such as those of children laughing, singing, and playing the flute – and partly by the half-length figures of actors, musicians, and singers inspired by Caravaggio (1571-1610).

Their range in quality was considerable.One example which closely follows Hals’s pictorial motifs is Boy with a lute and a wineglass, also identified as The finger-nail test, in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York [257]. This representation demonstrates a profound experience: the empty glass, the faded music of the lute, the sweet fruit of desire on the table, and the fleeting youth of the merry figure all bring to mind the experience of transitoriness. Hofrichter emphasizes the moral message: ‘The subject of the painting is intemperance. The “finger-nail-test” of the title is an allusion to the fact that the youth has drained his tankard to the point that not enough liquid is left to cover his finger nail’.³ This interpretation does not exclude another one which can be found in the inscription under a print by the Haarlem engraver Theodor Matham (c. 1605/1606-1676) [258]. This copper engraving was published in France c. 1625-1629 and includes the following lines: ‘All these rubies which we place among the precious stones. What if we compare them to these delicious drops. Who can, like these divine gifts, wake humans from the dead?’⁴ These and many other notions were part of the image’s perception.

In Hals’s New York painting the youthful drinker imitates the gesture of Michiel de Wael (1596-1659) in the Banquet of the officers of the St George civic guard of 1626-27 (A1.30) [259] [260]. As such, the hand with the glass is mostly a copy, down to the cast shadow on the ring finger, whose style of painting differs markedly from Hals’s model – note the differences in rendering of the fingers and nails. For De Wael, these are rendered with straightforward brushstrokes that haven’t been overcorrected, whereas the young drinker’s hand was depicted by means of a solid opaque mass of thickly applied paint throughout. The highlights and darker contours do not contain any of the expressive character we observe in De Wael’s hand, nor do we see anything resembling the playful contour between De Wael’s his hand and cuff. The young man’s face follows Hals’s manner of depicting merry musicians in terms of the figure type, its decoration and movement, as well as in the lateral lighting. Thus, it may be based on an initial design by Hals. Yet the colors remain waxy and the expression is comparatively rigid. The execution of the hair and the central facial area, the cuffs, and the collar is widely removed from Hals’s skilled craftmanship. With such a dependent work I would not dare to hazard an author. It is possible that the painter was Judith Leyster (1609-1660), as suggested by Hofrichter, but other assistants may also be considered.⁵ In any case, the painting cannot have been made before 1626/1627, when the Banquet of the officers of the St George civic guard was created.

Further examples from the mid-1620s can be included in the comparison of the handling in the New York painting. A look at Young man holding a skull, now in London [261], is particularly instructive, as it additionally emphasizes the contrast between the joy of life in the present and an awareness of transitoriness. This monumental painting marks the apex of the impression that Caravaggio’s paintings had made on Hals, who became familiar with them in Haarlem via the Utrecht Caravaggists. The motif of the tips of the outstretched fingers and the oblique lateral lighting of the face, half of which disappears into the shadows, can be understood as a momentary capture of an intense visual impression. The moment in which the young actor – recognizable by his hat and the red peacock feather – is reciting something meaningful, as is testified by the skull in his hands, appears strikingly urgent. The supposed identification of the character as William Shakespeare’s (1564-1616) Hamlet therefore seems obvious, even though it is hardly likely that Hals and his Haarlem public were familiar with the English tragedy that was first performed by 1600-1602. The two faces in the New York and London paintings are comparable in the contrasts in lighting and the animated gestures. Yet their painterly execution is substantially different. In the London painting, the fine diaphanous hair and the streaky brushwork in the face are striking, as are the semi-transparent colors in the shadows and the limitation of opaque colors applied only to the narrow illuminated ridges and curvatures [262]. This variation in brightness and paint application differ from the uniformly dull execution of the New York picture. In addition, the latter includes errors of observation like the hard cast-shadow of the nose, the stretched mouth, and the exaggerated corner of the eye on the right [263]. In this example we encounter Hals’s panorama of pictorial motifs but not the style of his observation. Capturing the expressive moment proves just as unsuccessful as the overall rendering of the youthful facial features.

257
workshop of Frans Hals (I)
Boy with a lute and a wineglass, c. 1626-1628
canvas, oil paint, 72.1 x 59.1 cm
New York, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, inv.no. 14.40.604
cat.no. A4.2.7

258
Theodor Matham
Boy with a glass turned upside down, c. 1625-1629
Amsterdam, Rijksmuseum, inv./cat.nr. RP-P-2003-47

259
Detail of cat.no. A1.30
Frans Hals (I)
Banquet of the officers of the St George civic guard, c. 1626-1627
Haarlem, Frans Hals Museum

260
Detail of fig. 257
workshop of Frans Hals (I)
Boy with a lute and a wineglass, c. 1626-1628
New York, The Metropolitan Museum of Art

261
Frans Hals (I)
Young man holding a skull (Vanitas), c. 1626
London (England), National Gallery (London), inv./cat.nr. NG6458
cat.no. A1.29