Rembrandt van Rijn painted, drew, and etched so many self-portraits in his lifetime that changes in his appearance invite us to gauge his moods by comparing one image to another. Rembrandt painted this self-portrait in 1659, after he had suffered financial failure despite so many years of success. His spacious house and other possessions had been auctioned the previous year to satisfy his creditors. In this late work, the deep-set eyes that bore into those of the viewer seem to express inner strength and dignity.
ARTHUR WHEELOCK:
“This self-portrait was painted by Rembrandt in 1659, ten years before he died. At the time his career was at a low point, for after working his way to great popularity and worldly success, he had declared bankruptcy and everything he owned had been sold. And he was only 53 years old.”
“Here, he seems to record exactly what he sees in the mirror, leaving vanity aside – the deep wrinkles, the sagging jowls, the bulbous nose, the dark, deep-set eyes. But the gaze is steady, and the face is full of dignity. His somber costume leaves us no choice but to focus on his face, bathed in light. The result seems an exercise in self-analysis, an artist’s unflinching effort to know himself.”
“You can’t just glance at a Rembrandt painting: you’ve got to give it time. That’s especially true in a self-portrait like this one, where the artist is looking right at you. And once you allow yourself to come into Rembrandt’s world, you get caught by his eyes and you’re held there, drawn in by the power of the image, as if you were looking at a real person.”
“Rembrandt achieves this uncanny effect in part by involving us in the process of his painting. Look closely at the eyes for instance. In places, the paint is so thickly applied it seems tangible. In fact, it’s the kind of picture that was once described as so thickly painted you could pick it up by the nose. It’s as if the artist were sculpting in paint.”
“But right next to these blobs of rough paint – called impasto – are areas of thin gray-blue, under painting that Rembrandt has deliberately left showing through. There are no subtle gradations; he just goes from thick to thin. We complete the transitions in our minds. And you can see other ways he’s worked the paint – the highlights glistening on the hair, for example, are actually scratched into the paint with the blunt end of the brush. We can almost feel him coaxing the figure into life.”
“Rembrandt’s portraits often have this furrowed brow, giving a sense of intelligence, of a person caught in thought. I think he knew it would get the viewer involved. And his dramatic lighting focuses our attention as well.”
“So these different devices: the imposters, the thin areas, the gaze, the light, all work to bring us into the painting. And let us see what we want to in it – from the artist’s own history of disappointments to reflections of our personal doubts, hopes or sadnesses. And that’s what Rembrandt could do best of all.”
“For years, this painting was dark and brown, covered with dirt and discolored varnish. It made the sitter look a lot more depressed than he does now that the picture has been cleaned and the pinks of the face have emerged. Before the restoration, Rembrandt’s body was barely visible. But now we can see that he posed himself in a very classical way, with one shoulder projecting out towards us, setting his head back in space and giving it weight and credibility. This pose in fact is based on a painting by Raphael that Rembrandt had seen and had made a drawing of twenty years earlier. It gives the psychological and emotional qualities of the work a firm physical foundation.”
