National Gallery of Art

Seated at the table in a darkened room, an old woman leans her head on the back of her hand, dozing over her Bible. Her right hand, vaguely distinguishable in the shadow, rests on the book and holds her reading spectacles. Three large keys hang from a nail in the molding on the wall. The mood of the painting is somber and quiet. The light that falls on her face from the upper left also illuminates the keys, book, and red tablecloth, but most of her body and background are thrown into deep shadow.

Maes explored the theme of a sleeping woman a number of times in the mid-1650s, shortly after he left Rembrandt’s studio. Invariably these paintings have an admonitory character, for the woman is always shown dozing off instead of fulfilling her duties and responsibilities. In The Idle Servant of 1655 (National Gallery, London), Maes made his point by having a second woman gesture reprovingly toward the irresponsible servant.[1]  [1]
Maes’ painting is at the National Gallery, London, inv. no. 207. For a discussion of this theme see William W. Robinson, “The Eavesdroppers and Related Paintings by Nicolaes Maes,” in Holländische Genremalerei im 17. Jahrhundert, ed. Henning Bock and Thomas W. Gaehtgens, 283–313 (Berlin, 1987). Dirty pots and pans lie at the woman’s feet, and behind her a cat steals a chicken. As if the point needed reinforcement, Maes also placed the sleeping maid in a pose that was well known as a representation of Acedia (Sloth) [fig. 1]   [fig. 1] Jerome Weirix, after P. Galle, Acedia, engraving, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, Harris Brisbane Dick Fund, 1953. Photo © The Metropolitan Museum of Art / Art Resource, NY. He clearly intended to convey a comparable message in his representations of women dozing over their books, particularly when the book was the Bible.

The book in the National Gallery of Art painting can be identified as a Bible through comparison with a related painting in Brussels [fig. 2]   [fig. 2] Nicolaes Maes, An Old Woman Asleep before a Bible, c. 1655, oil on canvas, Royal Museums of Fine Arts of Belgium, Brussels. © Royal Museums of Fine Arts of Belgium, Brussels; Photo: J. Geleyns / Ro scan, in which this same Bible lies opened to the first page of the Book of Amos. Throughout most of this passage, God declares how he will no longer overlook the misdemeanors of the Israelites and that He intends to punish them the same as everyone else. Reinforcing the message that the woman’s behavior cannot be condoned is the fact that her lace work, a symbol of domestic virtue, also goes unattended.[2]  [2]
For a discussion of the symbolism in this work see Eddy de Jongh, Tot lering in vermaak: Betekenissen van Hollandse genrevoorstelling uit de zeventiende eeuw (Amsterdam, 1976), 143. Finally, the hourglass that props open the book and the extinguished candle in the niche are symbols of the transience of life. Since life is fleeting, the shirking of responsibilities signifies an unfulfilled existence in the eyes of both man and God.[3]  [3]
Eddy de Jongh, Tot lering in vermaak: Betekenissen van Hollandse genrevoorstelling uit de zeventiende eeuw (Amsterdam, 1976), 143, quoting Johan de Brune, Banket-Werk van goede gedachten (Middelburg, 1657), 287, no. 728 (“Ledigheyd”): “Aen ’t verlies van den tijd hanght het verlies van de eeuwige zaligheyd.”

The message in the Washington painting is less explicit than in the examples from London and Brussels because the iconographic elements have been greatly reduced. Still, the underlying theme is clearly the same. The woman assumes the same pose of sloth; the only accessories, other than the Bible and her spectacles, are the keys hanging on the wall. Traditionally, keys suggest responsibility; left unattended, they indicate her failure to uphold her duties. Keys, however, have many metaphorical associations, among them, by association with the keys of Saint Peter, entry into heaven. Because a key also hangs on the back wall in the Brussels painting, in which themes of sloth and transience of life are both present, the keys here may likewise carry such dual symbolism. Falling asleep over one’s Bible is not a means for discovering the keys to heaven. Indeed, in another metaphorical sense of the work, the Bible provides us with keys for understanding life and guiding our salvation; as it lies unread, these keys are therefore neglected. Similarly, spectacles, which serve to improve vision and sharpen our awareness, are effective only when used properly. An old Dutch proverb reads: “What good is the candle or eyeglasses if the owl does not want to see.”[4]  [4]
Heinrich Schwarz and Volker Plagemann, “Eule,” in Reallexikon zur deutschen Kunstgeschichte 6 (1973): 267–322 (n.b. 308), fig. 28. “Wat baetes kaers of bril, als den uijl niet sien en wil.” (See Eddy de Jongh, Tot lering in vermaak: Betekenissen van Hollandse genrevoorstelling uit de zeventiende eeuw [Amsterdam, 1976], 247, no. 65.) The devotion with which the woman in a Maes painting in the Worcester Art Museum prays [fig. 3]   [fig. 3] Nicolaes Maes, An Old Woman Praying, c. 1655, oil on canvas, Worcester Art Museum, Massachusetts, with her awareness of the transience of life evident in the skull and hourglass on the table before her, is a far more positive exemplar than that seen in either the Brussels or Washington paintings.[5]  [5]
Wayne Franits in Ursel Berger and Jutta Desel, Bilder vom alten Menschen in der niederländischen und deutschen Kunst, 1550–1750 (Braunschweig, 1993), 174, associates the warm clothes the woman wears in the Washington painting with the belief that the body becomes cold and dry in old age as it approaches death. He thus sees the character of the clothing as reinforcing the theme of transience that otherwise exists in the painting. Arguing against this theory, however, is the fact that the very alert woman in the Worcester painting is dressed warmly as well. Without central heating, houses would have been frigid and multiple layers an absolute necessity to stay warm.

Although An Old Woman Dozing over a Book is not dated, it must be from around 1655, when the influence of Rembrandt van Rijn (Dutch, 1606 - 1669) on Maes’ style was still strong. The broad touch, the dark palette with the deep reds of the tablecloth, and the strong chiaroscuro lighting are comparable to effects found in Rembrandt’s paintings from the mid-1640s.

The moralizing character that is so predominant in Maes’ genre paintings of the mid-1650s, however, has no direct prototype in Rembrandt’s paintings or in those of his other pupils and followers from the late 1640s and early 1650s, when Maes was in Amsterdam. Indeed, depictions by Rembrandt and his school of old women actively reading inevitably invoked the sitter’s pious nature.[6]  [6]
In oral communication, Gregory Rubinstein has noted that the theme of a woman reading a book only developed in Dutch painting in about 1630, perhaps as a result of a contemporary increase of literacy among women. In the following decades many painters depicted old women reading; it would be interesting to investigate the reasons for the introduction and popularity of this motif. See, for example, Rembrandt, Rembrandt’s Mother in the Guise of the Prophetess Anna (Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam, inv. no. A 3066); Rembrandt and Workshop, An Old Lady with a Book, NGA 1937.1.73; and Gerard Dou, Old Woman Reading (Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam, inv. no. A 2627). Maes’ moralizing images were made after his return to Dordrecht and after his marriage to the widow of a preacher in January 1654. Dordrecht had a strong Calvinist tradition, and themes that stressed moral responsibility may have had a ready market.

Many of the props Maes used in this work reappear in other paintings from this period. So too does the model, who is in both the Brussels and the Worcester paintings,[7]  [7]
This same model also appears in A Woman Spinning (Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam, inv. no. A246) and An Old Woman Peeling Apples (Staatliche Museen Preussischer Kulturbesitz, Gemäldegalerie, Berlin, inv. no. 819C). and in the latter wears the identical striped headdress as here.[8]  [8]
William W. Robinson, “‘The Sacrifice of Isaac’: An Unpublished Painting by Nicolaes Maes,” Burlington Magazine 136 (September 1984): 540 n. 6, has observed that Maes also used this cloth in his Dismissal of Hagar, 1653 (The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, inv. no. 1971.1.73), and the Sacrifice of Isaac, c. 1655–1658 (Alfred Bader Collection, Milwaukee). Although the identity of the model is not known, she was in all probability a relative. One wonders if Maes followed Rembrandt’s example and used his mother for his representations of old women in these strongly didactic works.

Arthur K. Wheelock Jr.

April 24, 2014