The Art of painting
(De Schilderkonst)
c. 1662- 1668
oil on canvas
47 1/4 x 39 3/8 in. (120 X 100 cm.)
Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna
A period chandelier in the Delft Stadhuis (Town Hall)
Nowhere in Vermeer's oeuvre has iconographic interpretation proved so complicated as in the Art of Painting. Experts generally believe that the glittering golden chandelier surmounted by a double-headed eagle, imperial symbol of the Habsburgs, refers to an earlier era when that dynasty ruled the Netherlands. The fact would bring it into relation with the vertical crease in the map (made before the wars and Treaty of 1648) which accentuates the divisions between the Spanish South and the United Provinces of the independent North.
One critic has suggested that the eagle may have been an allegorical symbol of sight, one of the five senses meant to strengthen the focus of the painter's activity. It has also been seen as an image of the phoenix, a symbol of a resurrected and reunited Netherlands.
Whatever its iconographical meaning, it is hard to imagine that Vermeer - perhaps the most "optical" artist of the Netherlands - was not attracted by the formidable technical challenge it posed to his craft. The highlights are painted with astonishingly thick opaque blobs of light-toned paint that seems to dance above the surface of the painting imitating the shimmer of sunlight.
Prof. J Fock, a Dutch historian, has noted that chandeliers permitted artists to demonstrate their expertise at rendering shimmering and refractive brass under changing light conditions. However, multibranch chandeliers were rarely found even in the houses of the wealthiest burghers (which had one at most), and in the very few inventories where chandeliers are listed they are called kerkkroon (church chandeliers), because examples of this type were more often hung in churches or civic buildings than in houses. However, it is not impossible that it was a possession of Vermeer's well-to-do Catholic mother-in-law, Maria Thins.
The fellow painter Gerard ter Borch utilized the same chandelier as a prop for his interiors over and over again in his compositions even though he never dedicated such attention to it as Vermeer.
Woman at the Clavichord
Gerrit Dou
c. 1665
37.7 x 29.8 cm
The Trustees of
Dulwich Picture Gallery, London
From a visual point of view, the drawn-back tapestry functions as a repoussoir. Repoussoir is a means of achieving perspective or spatial contrasts by the use of illusionistic devices such as the placement of a large figure or object in the immediate foreground. By covering only small portions of the map, the trumpet and still life, Vermeer entices the observer to pull it back all the way thereby involving him not only visually, but physically in the painting's illusion.
Vermeer may have had in mind the famous contest of Greek antiquity held between two renowned painters Parrhasius and Zeuxis to see who was the finest. This story was cited by Plinius the Elder from a Greek source in his Naturalis historia, 77 A.C. Zeuxis had produced a still life so convincing that birds flew down from the sky to peck at the painted grapes. Parrhasius then asked Zeuxis to pull aside the curtain from his painting. When it was discovered that the curtain was a painted one and not a real one, Zeuxis was forced to concede defeat, for while his work had managed to fool the eyes of birds, Parrhasius had deceived the eyes of a human beings.
A popular story goes that Rembrandt's students had once painted coins on the floor of his studio for the pleasure of watching him bend down and try to pick them up. The pervasive illusionism in Vermeer's Art of Painting is based on a firm understanding of perspective, awareness of optical laws and longstanding cultural significance.
Dutch painters working around the same themes as Vermeer had pioneered and perfected the curtain devise years before him. Gerrit Dou, the renowned fijnschilder included such curtains in a few of his more ambitious compositions (see above).
Willem Weve, a Delft architectural historian, notes that although domestic construction was not standardized in the city in the mid-17th century, the type of ceiling shown in this painting is one among several arrangements used in houses, and surviving examples can indeed be found. The timber members are small beams, probably of pine, supported by a wall plate over the windows, as seen at top left in The Music Lesson. It is likely that the beams were supported at their other ends on a wall which would be on the right of Vermeer's pictures, but is always out of sight. The ceiling beams in Vermeer's Music Lesson, Allegory of Painting and Allegory of the Faith all be seen to slope downwards from left to right. The fact that they slant in all three cases suggests the possibility that this is a physical property of the room and not an inaccuracy in Vermeer' drawing.

Various painters represented this same map in their compositions. However, the two lateral strips of town views we see in the Art of Painting are not present in their works. The city views and title scripts were each printed separately and then glued together as were the 9 separate sections which compose the body of the map. The city views may be linked to the notion that a successful painter bestows fame and glory on the cities were he was born, a concept greatly appreciated in Vermeer's time.
Vermeer's hometown, Delft, is not represented. It is curious that Vermeer, who was at the height of his powers, was mentioned only briefly in Beschryvinge der Stadt Delft (Description of the City of Delft) published in 1667 by Dirck van Bleyswick while other painters, now considered far less important, receive great praise. Ironically, Van Bleyswick also lamented that at times the fame due to great artists comes only after their death. Located precisely to the left of the standing Clio is a view of the Hof in The Hague (see image above), seat of the government of the 17 Provinces.

Various painters represented this same map in their compositions. However, the two lateral strips of town views we see in the Art of Painting are not present in their works. The city views and title scripts were each printed separately and then glued together as were the 9 separate sections which compose the body of the map. The city views may be linked to the notion that a successful painter bestows fame and glory on the city were he was born, a concept greatly appreciated in Vermeer's time.
Vermeer's hometown, Delft, is not represented. It is curious that Vermeer, who was at the height of his powers, was mentioned only briefly in Beschryvinge der Stadt Delft (Description of the City of Delft) published in 1667 by Dirck van Bleyswick while other painters, now considered far less important, receive great praise. Ironically, Van Bleyswick also lamented that at times the fame due to great artists comes only after their death. Located precisely to the left of the standing Clio is a view of the Hof in The Hague (see image above), seat of the government of the 17 Provinces.

The female figure on the top of the cartouche symbolizes the "unity and separation" of the Seventeen Northern and Southern Provinces. She is holding the coat of arms of the North and South in her left and right hands respectively.
A number of empty chairs populate Vermeer's interiors. Some critics have supposed that their emptiness alludes to someone missing from the scene. In this picture, it seems to have a function as a repoussoir device to augment the illusion of depth.
The two red velvet, fringed chairs in this painting seem identical to the one in the foreground of Vermeer's Woman with a Pearl Necklace. Walter Liedtke has supposed that the foreground chair in the Art of Painting may have been provided for a hypothetical connoisseur visiting the artist's studio.
When this map was made, the official separation and resulting peace of the Northern (today's Netherlands) from the Southern Provinces (today's Belgium) which it represents was about to be officialized. The map may be seen as an extensive panorama of military history of the war of liberation of the 17 Provinces from Spanish rule. The inscription inside the decorative cartouche addressed the map's military theme: "The tremendous wars waged in these countries in bygone days, and still waged in these days, bear sufficient witness to the whole wide world of the great strength, power and wealth of these very countries." Naturally, this inscription cannot be read on Vermeer's representation.
Only one complete original copy of this map has survived. It was discovered in the double bottom of a chest that had been locked for years, in "Skokloster," the house built by the Swedish admiral Wrangler, near Uppsala in Sweden. Vermeer's map includes a title band on the top, a series of town views along the sides which frame the central part of the map. The central part was printed with nine separately engraved sheets. Seventeenth-century catalogues advertised maps which could be purchased "with or without their ornamentation."
A single map could be composed in several ways making it a made-to-order-work-of art. Other painters including Jacob Ochtervelt and Nicolas Maes appear to have used the same map six times in their paintings. Only in Vermeer's painting do we find it attached with the vertical series of town views. Very few wall maps of this kind have survived even though catalogues, inventories, interior paintings and other documents tell us that they must have been printed in great numbers. All the maps in Vermeer's painting were printed in Amsterdam which was then one of the principle centers of map-making in the world.
The Artist in His Studio (detail)
Rembrandt van Rijn
c.1629
Museum of Fine Arts, Boston
Vermeer's easel was identical to those depicted in numerous Dutch paintings, such as the one pictured in an early self-portrait by Rembrandt (see left). The crossbar on which the painting is poised could be lowered and raised by a very simple system of pegs and holes. Some critics have noted that the left-hand leg of the easel seems to have not been painted as it approaches the tiled floor. However, if one carefully projects the upper contours it can be seen that it fits snugly behind the two left legs of the stool on which the painter is seated.
Although Vermeer specialists do not believe that this painting was conceived primarily as a self-portrait, there is no reason why the artist would have not wished to leave at least some testimony of himself. Perhaps the artist's long, soft hair which gracefully flows out from under the beret, was his own. It imperceptibly blends into the colors of the background which is one of the most suggestive but least noticed passages of the work.
It has been remarked more than once that the black beret, despite its realistic appearance, has been barely modeled. Simple berets of this kind were, as they still are, considered a common attribute of painters. There exist other paintings in which the artist turns his back towards the viewer but none completely conceal his face. The viewer remains utterly alone to imagine what he looked like.

Specialists generally agree that this demure young woman represents Clio, the muse of history, as described in Cesare Ripa's 16th-century book of emblems and personifications, Iconologia. Translated into Dutch in 1644, Ripa's volume was widely consulted by history painters. Vermeer also used it for least one other allegorical painting, the late Allegory of Faith.
Clio's crown of laurel denotes glory and eternal life. The trumpet signifies fame. The thirst for fame was considered a fundamental stimulus to artistic production. By placing Clio at the center of his allegory, Vermeer emphasizes the importance of history to the visual arts. Theorists argued that the highest form of artistic expression was history painting which comprised biblical, mythological, historical and allegorical subjects. Curiously, Vermeer himself practiced true history paintings only at the outset of his career. By placing this allegory in a contemporary context, perhaps he wished to prove that the lofty values of history painting could also be achieved when representing modern themes and settings. In any case, this painting proves that Vermeer, far beyond being a typical Dutch artisan/painter, was aware of the major artistic debates which circulated among the cultural elite.
History, obviously, was related to the concept of fame. The ancient Greek artists understood their work held potential as a vehicle for fame. By the fourth century B.C., artists incorporated their own likenesses into works. The self-portrait served as a prominent and sophisticated signature for artists like Phidias (who, for example, included his image in the guise of a warrior on the massive cult statue of Athena in the Parthenon. Even Plutarch, writing on the most distinguished names in Greek history in his Lives, notes Phidias' great fame and how his works "brought envy."
Title page of the English
edition of Iconologia by Cesare Ripa
The young woman, who represents the muse of history Clio, holds in one hand a trumpet and in the other a large book, perhaps a volume by Thucydides or Herodotus. Vermeer portrays the back side of the volumes where one would not expect to see an inscription avoiding the temptation of becoming overtly didactical precluding our purely visual enjoyment of the work.
The trumpet stands for fame. In Samuel van Hoogstraten's Inleyding tot de hooge schoole der schilderkonst (Introduction to the Art of Painting, 1678) an image of Clio is depicted, almost exactly as described in Cesare Ripa's Iconologia, a famous early iconographic dictionary which was widely used by painters of historical and allegorical subject matter.
A Cavalier (self portrait)
Frans van Mieris
1657/59
20 x 16 cm
Collection Art Gallery of New South Wales
Dutch costume expert Marieke de Winkel challenges the long-held idea that the artist's peculiar dress was outdated and was meant to reflect gone bye times. Although this kind of slashed doublet was not universally worn, it was an item of contemporary dress. This fashion had occurred in earlier times and had become popular again in the 1620s and 1630s but had reached its extreme form in the 1660s, when Vermeer painted the Art of Painting.
Vermeer's choice of such an elaborate and historical costume was deliberate. By claiming an affiliation with the earlier Netherlandish painters he was literally trying to step in their shoes. He modeled himself on his illustrious Northern predecessors rather than on an aristocratic gentiluomo or poet or even less the rags and poverty of the dissolute self portraits which had become very popular in the Netherlands. Artists, especially successful ones, evidently enjoyed dressing themselves up in similar fanciful garments such as a self portrait Frans van Mieris (see above).
Other painters, such as Eglon van der Neer, Caspar Netscher and Gabriel Metsu, depicted very similar garments. By Vermeer's times they were referred to as "innocents," a term which also means "retarded" or "simpleton" most likely because they had become so short and revealed so much of the undergarment that they appeared somewhat foolish. Thus, it seems likely that does not place the artist outside his time, but as Eric Jan Sluiter noted, "beyond the ordinary, which is fitting for a figure representative of this honorable art."
It was not uncommon to drawn on costumes painted in the past. Painter and art writer Karel van Mander recommended the prints of Lucas van Leyden as an excellent resource for historic costumes. "In these, as with all his other prints, one sees pleasant variations of faces and costumes after the old styles: hats, caps and headdresses which for the most part, differ one from another, so that in Italy the great masters of our own time have been able to profit greatly from his works in that they have borrowed from them and applied things in their own works, with occasional small variations."

Most experts believe that Vermeer created this painting with the aid of a camera obscura, a precursor of the modern photographic camera. This device, a marvel of its day, was well known to painters and men of science. One of most conspicuous indications of the use of the camera obscura can be seen in the unfocused rendering of the drapery which hangs over the edge of the table. The true focus of the painting was further to the background. This optical phenomenon, known as depth of field is not evident in normal vision since the eye is constantly refocusing as it moves from one object to the next at various distances. Moreover, experimentation with period camera obscuras shows very similar effects when soft materials are not in focus.
The inclusion of this large bound volume may support the idea of art theorists that painting was a liberal art and that the painter was no craftsman but an educated intellectual on the level of poets and philosophers. Leonardo da Vinci's introduction to his Treatise on Painting reads: "Painting has every right to complain of being driven out from the number of Liberal Arts, since she is a true daughter of nature and employs the noblest of all the senses. It was wrong, oh writers, to leave her out from the number of Liberal Arts, because she deals not only with the works of nature but extends over an infinite number of things which nature never created."
In the Studio (detail)
Michael Sweerts
1652
73.5 x 58.8 cm
Detroit Institute Museum of Arts, Detroit
Some experts believe that this inverted mask symbolizes the art of painting. Drawing from plaster casts of antiquity, considered "more perfect than nature," was a fundamental requirement of an artist's training. The Accademia di San Luca in Rome (founded in 1593) devised a curriculum to combat the decline of art (Caravaggio and his followers who practiced painting directly from nature) which was based on drawing from classical sculpture, perspective, anatomy, and foreshortening. The evident foreshortening in Vermeer's rendering may allude to such classical training.
It is also possible that the mask alludes to the so called paragone, or the comparison of the arts (see special topics below).
The detail to the left of Michael Sweert's An Artist in his Studio (1652) shows a young painter in front of two plaster casts of classical sculptures of faces similar to the ones in Vermeer's Art of Painting.
Self Portrait
Michiel van Musscher
c. 1665-1667
47,6 x 36,8 cm
Vienna, Liechtenstein Museum
Most experts believe that Vermeer did not reveal significant information about his own working methods in this painting. Both the artist's palette and chest with drawers which would have contained the rest of the necessary materials are both conspicuously absent (see image left).
Vermeer's seated painter applies paint in full color directly to the top of the canvas where the laurel leaves are represented. Instead, we know that after the initial drawing Vermeer blocked in the basic forms and lighting of his composition with brownish pigment. Successively, color was added. This monochrome stage is known as underpainting and was widely employed by Northern painters of the time, especially among artists whose compositions were more elaborate and drawing precise.
Perhaps the only element of Vermeer's technique which is accurately portrayed is the so-called maulstick, or painter's stick. The maulstick was standard studio equipment and served to steady the artist's hand for detailed work while distancing it from the wet paint on the underlying canvas. In Vermeer's death inventory, one maulstick was noted.
To identify the source for the map in The Art of Painting, we need not look beyond the painting itself. A lengthy Latin inscription found at the top of the map (partially obscured by the chandelier) may be read as follows: NOVA XVII PROV[IN]CIARUM [GERMANIAE INF]ERI- [O]RIS DESCRIPTIOI ET ACCURATA EARUNDEM ...DE NO[VO] EM[EN]D[ATA]...REC[TISS]- IME EDIT[AP]ERNICOLAUM PISCATOREM. Thus, this map (designed with north to the right), which shows the Seventeen Provinces of the Netherlands (Germania Inferior), can be attributed to Nicolaus Visscher (Nicolaus Piscator).
To identify the source for the map in The Art of Painting, we need not look beyond the painting itself. A lengthy Latin inscription found at the top of the map (partially obscured by the chandelier) may be read as follows: NOVA XVII PROV[IN]CIARUM [GERMANIAE INF]ERI- [O]RIS DESCRIPTIOI ET ACCURATA EARUNDEM ...DE NO[VO] EM[EN]D[ATA]...REC[TISS]- IME EDIT[AP]ERNICOLAUM PISCATOREM. Thus, this map (designed with north to the right), which shows the Seventeen Provinces of the Netherlands (Germania Inferior), can be attributed to Nicolaus Visscher (Nicolaus Piscator).
The large, thin folio which hangs over the edge of the table has been interpreted as both an architectural drawing folio or music manuscript even though its present state of conservation does not permit it to be identified with certainty. In such a carefully composed and carefully articulated allegory such as the present work, it is doubtful that Vermeer would have left its meaning unclear. Some critics have also understood it as being a large folio containing preparatory drawings which the artist would have consulted while working. Painters often made many drawings from nature which were used during the actual painting process. Few painters actually painted directly from life.
In conjunction with this manuscript Vermeer specialists have noted that in the inventory of Vermeer's house taken after the artist's death, were listed "five books in folio size; another 25 books of all kinds." Unfortunately, none of the books were identified. The draping page, which barely touches the artist, plays an important role linking the figure of the painter and his model who would have been physically divided and hence thematically isolated.
The knife-like form of this acute triangle of brilliant white wall does much to invigorate the entire composition. It's effect is even more pronounced when the painting is observed directly. The irregularities produced by the notable paint build-up and the vigorous brushstrokes add sparkle to the pure white paint (white lead). Prepared artificially since the earliest historical times and used until the nineteenth century, this warm white is very opaque, has outstanding brushing qualities and mixes well with every color on the artist's palette. As the name lead white suggests, it is a by-product of lead, and whatever the form of manufacture used, the purity of the color depends on the purity of the lead. White lead produced in the Netherlands was particularly prized. In the "Dutch" or "stack" process strips of lead rolled up into spirals were placed in closed earthenware jars containing acetic acid, and the pots were then buried under tanner's bark or dung; the heat evolved by fermentation aids in the formation of white lead through an increase of carbonic acid. Very soon a thin coat of white coating forms. The white lead is then washed of and cleaned. White lead is extremely poisonous and must be handled with care.
Because these splendid marble floors can been seen in most genre pictures from the middle and the third quarter of the seventeenth-century, we have been led to believe that they were present in nearly all well-to-do interiors. However, it seems doubtful that Vermeer could have directly observed and painted this type of marble tile in his own studio. Willemijn Fock, a historian of the decorative arts, has demonstrated that floors paved with marble tiles were extremely rare in the Dutch seventeenth-century houses and that only in the houses of "the very wealthy where floors of this type were sometimes found, they were usually confined to smaller spaces such as voorhuis, corridors and upper story sleeping or storage rooms." Fock reasons that the abundant representations of these floors in Dutch genre painting may be explained by the fact that artists were attracted by the challenge involved in representing the difficult perspective of receding multicolored marble tiling.

Clothing has the power to convey many meanings in painting. In formal portraiture, great importance was given to the dress to suit the ideals or culture of the sitter. Although the fanciful styles of past centuries often come to mind when we think of 17th-century painting, the vast majority of formal portraits show sitters in "normal" dress. Occasionally, more original types opted for the so-called portrait historié in which the sitter or sitters sported garments and fashion accessories of historical figures of the past, diverse and remote as those as Anthony and Cleopatra. Through the portrait historié one might proclaim his affinity with virtues of classical times.
The painter generally had little to say about the sitter's choice to dress. Through his art, he manipulated the appearance of the tuck, fold, textural qualities and lighting to convey his own aesthetic concerns. Sometimes, prevailing fashions such as the typical black clothing of the early 17th century left the artist few opportunities to indulge in the finer points of his craft. Fanciful, expensive dress and even jewelry might be lent to the painter for the more extravagant portraits. Back in the studio, the artist would duplicate the lighting, pose and dress of the sitter with the aid of a life-size mannequin so that the complex patterns of tuck and fold would not be altered every time the sitter moved.
The figure dressed in blue silk and a long light yellow silk gown personifies Clio, the muse of history, a figure drawn from classical Greek literature. Her blue wrap, casually draped over the shoulders, does not belong to contemporary fashion. It was meant to recall the Antique and link Vermeer's composition to theme of art whereby a great work of art would bring fame to both the artist and his city, a theme already dear to the ancient Greeks.
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critical excerpt

c. 1666-1667
Arthur K. Wheelock Jr.
Vermeer: The Complete Works, New York, 1997)
c.- 1666-1669
Walter Liedtke Vermeer: The Complete Paintings, New York, 2008)
literature
- The artist's widow, Catharina Bolnes (1675-76);
- transferred to her mother, Maria Thins (24 February 1676);
- evidently sold at auction in Delft, 15 March 1677;
- possibly Baron Gerard van Swieten, prefect of the Imperial Court Library, Vienna (d.1772);
- his son, Gottfried van Swieten (d.1803);
- his estate, as by Pieter de Hooch (1803-13, sold to Czernin);
- Count Johann Rudolf Czernin (1813-34, as by De Hooch);
- by descent to Count Eugen Czernin (d.1955) and Jaromir Czernin (d.1966);
- Adolf Hitler (1940-45); Munich Central Collecting Point (1945);
- transferred on 17 November 1945 to the Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna, in 1958 to the museum's permanent collection (inv. 9128).
exhibitions

In her groundbreaking The Art of Describing, Svetlana Alpers declared that the interpretation of maps in Vermeer's paintings merely as symbols was too restrictive point of view. An overlooked, but vital characteristic of the Dutch culture and of its art, she suggested, is "the mapping impulse." Thus, the map hanging on the wall—so perfectly rendered that it has no equal in Dutch painting—is filled with multiple meaning. First, it is a "powerful pictorial presence" which catches the viewer's attention in many ways. The details are so specific that the particular map can be identified. It is large, with many visual components, including lettering, pictures, and the lines of the map itself. Finally, Vermeer placed his signature on it. In all these ways, Vermeer likened the painting to the map and, by extension, the act of painting to the act of map-making. For Alpers, this similarity reveals something essential about the Dutch idea of painting.
The Music Lesson (detail)
Jacob Ochtervelt
1671
Art Institute of Chicago
In reference to the connection between painting and mapmaking Alpers wrote: "The aim of Dutch painters was to capture on a surface a great range of knowledge and information about the world. They too employed words with their images. Like the mappers, they made additive works that could not be taken in from a single viewing point. Theirs was not a window on the Italian model of art but rather, like a map, a surface on which is laid out an assemblage of the world."
The same map of the United Provinces appears on the background in a contemporary work by Jacob Ochtervelt (see left). However, as usual in Dutch art, it is delineated with scarce attention to the physical properties of the map itself and functions more as a compositional filler.
In 1696, two decades after Vermeer's death, 21 of his "excellent and artful paintings" were sold in an Amsterdam auction presumably collected by Pieter van Ruijven and inherited by his son-in-law Jacob Dissius. In the sales catalogue, item number 3 was described as "the portrait of Vermeer in a room with various accessories, uncommonly beautiful painted by him." This painting was sold for the low price of 45 guilders, scarcely more than twice that of the tiny Lacemaker in the same auction, thus, few experts believe it corresponds to the Art of Painting which is many times larger and a far more elaborate composition. In fact, most agree that Vermeer's intention was not so much to make a lasting effigy of himself, but rather to commemorate and define the role of the artist in history and his association with fame through the use of symbols which in those times must have been readily understood by the cultural elite. The scene which is represented differs greatly from other representations of painters' studios (a very popular theme) of the times and does not seem to be indicative of Vermeer's own technical practices.
Clio
Pierre Mignard
1689
143,5 x 115 cm
Museum of Fine Arts, Budapest
In our own times, when art is often accorded merit on the basis of its originality, it is difficult to imagine a time when artists and writers regularly consulted a book of iconography before starting work. Ever since antiquity artists sought to convey abstract ideas in visual forms through the use of symbols which could be readily deciphered by men of equal cultural standing. Iconologia, originally compiled by the Italian Cesare Ripa in the late sixteenth century, is such a work.
One recurrent question which occupied painters concerned the artist's place in society. He should be considered a craftsman, on par with carpenters and goldsmiths, or a creative genius, such as poets and philosophers? Another concern was that the great artist could bestow eternal fame to his city or nation through his work.
In The Art of Painting, Vermeer presumably addressed both issues by portraying an allegorical figure, Clio, the muse of History. In antiquity, Clio was one of the nine muses, personifications of the highest aspirations of art and intellect in Greek mythology. The Muses were the daughters of Zeus and Mnemosyne, the Titan goddess whose name means memory. When the Romans later separated the muses' fields of inspiration, Clio became the patron of history. Her antique symbols are a laurel wreath and a scroll.
In Vermeer's painting Clio is portrayed as a girl with a crown of laurel that denotes glory, a trumpet and in her left arm she cradles a large yellow volume presumably of Thucydides' Histories. Thucydides' volume can be seen in an etching contained in Samuel van Hoogstraten's Inleyding tot de Hooge Schoole der Schilderkonst, published 1678. Van Hoogstraten believed paintings should strive to become universal science which could represent all things visible.
Scholars believe that Vermeer's Art of Painting addressed a number of weighty issues which regarded both the art of painting and the fine arts in general. One of them was the so-called paragone, or the comparison of the arts.
In the past, there was an enduring and impassioned debate concerning the hierarchical status of the various arts. In the Quattrocento, Italy was the battleground on which painters, still handicapped by the classical prejudice against manual labor, fought to establish their art on the higher tier of the Liberal Arts. Practicing painters, in fact, were then relegated among artisans and craftsmen. The rivalries between painting and poetry and painting and sculpture were particularly intense although in the course of the Renaissance the kinship between painting and poetry became commonplace so much that they were considered sister arts by some.
Having worked in sculpture and painting, the great Leonardo da Vinci claimed the right to judge the value of each. While painting could imitate sculpture, sculpture could not imitate painting. Furthermore, "painting is the more beautiful and the more imaginative and the more copious, while sculpture is the more durable but it has nothing else." For Leonardo, the limitation to poetic expression lies in its use of verbal language alone: "Painting comprehends in itself all the forms of nature, while you have nothing but words, which are not universal as form is, and if you have the effects of the representation, we have the representation of the effects." that is, one word after another; painting, vice versa, renders the whole of a scene immediately evident through a single image. The artists and scholars who celebrated painting's superiority over sculpture cited its ability to imitate and surpass nature, but perhaps most importantly, its ability to deceive nature itself. Furthermore, it offered a kind of permanence that contrasts with the fleeting nature of music.
By Vermeer's time, the debate still enflamed and had been extended to science as well. It was argued that doctors and astronomers can know the visible world through the use of their university of acquired skills, but artists can not only comprehend the natural world, they can replicate it. The painter's art embraces and recreates the entire visible world, or as in the words of painter and art theorist Samuel van Hoogstraten, "the Art of Painting is a science for representing all the ideas or notions that visible nature in its entirety can produce, and for deceiving the eye with outline and color."
Deception as we know, was at the heart of Vermeer's concept of illusionist painting and perhaps nowhere more manifest than in his monumental Art of Painting.
Although Dutch art abounds in self portraits of artists in their studio, it is difficult to ascertain how true-to-life they were. Two conventions in studio self portraits dominated the 17th-century art market, both were a subtle blending of fact and fiction.
On one hand, history painters, steeped in the memories of classical models, strove to convey an idealistic view of their profession assuming the traditional guise of the learned gentleman artist fostered by Renaissance. Artists depicted themselves surrounded not only with the tools of their trade but often crowded with seemingly irrelevant props and even mythological figures brought in and arranged for the occasion to communicate specific concepts about their art through the use of symbolism and allegory. A perfect example of this mode of self portraiture is Vermeer's own Art of Painting.
The Artist in His Studio
Rembrandt van Rijn
c.1629
Museum of Fine Arts, Boston
However, in the 17th-century Netherlands, a startling new development in self-portraiture began to rival the classical model and became one of the most salable genres of all. Painters presented themselves in a more unseemly light than those of the glorious past.
Dropping the noble robes of the pictor doctus, they smoked, drank, wore rags in dilapidated studios and chased women. The Dutch artistic literature of the 17th century was rife with interesting, often comical anecdotes about artists' personal lives and working methods which kindled the public's imagination and appetite for images. Dutch artists explored a new mode of self-expression in dissolute self-portraits, as Ingrid A. Cartwright called the, embracing the many behaviors that art theorists and the culture at large disparaged.
Cartwright wrote that dissolute self-portraits also reflect and respond to a larger trend regarding artistic identity in the 17th century, notably, the stereotype "hoe schilder hoe wilder" (if painter, then crazy ). Artists embraced this special identity, which in turn granted them certain freedoms from social norms and a license to misbehave.
Such self-portraits were extremely salable since they not only portrayed the artist but were considered a specimen of the artist's exceptional talent and a manifestation of his original character as well.
Two Trumpet Duets, Heinrich Ignaz Franz Biber
performed by Clarino Consort
http://clarinoconsort.com/mp3.htm
Natural trumpet made by Paul Hainlein,
Nürnberg 1666
National Music Museum, Vermillion, South Dakota
http://www.usd.edu/smm/Brass/Trumpets/NaturalTrumpets/
Hainlein/3873/HainleinTrumpet3873.html
The trumpet as one of the oldest instruments, is already mentioned in the Bible (the "trumpets of Jericho" or the "trumpets of the Last Judgement"). Its ancient precursors were widespread in Africa and Europe, mainly made from ivory, animal horns or shells (triton) or from shavings of tree bark. Long straight metal trumpets were used in the ancient Egyptian culture both for signaling but moreover as cult- and symbolic instruments demonstrating the royal power of the Pharaos. Two of these instruments, made of silver and bronze, were found in the tomb of Tutankhamun (1333-1323 B.C). Similar functions of the instrument like in the Egyptian culture are traced in the ancient Greek and Etrusco-Roman empire (called there "Salpinx", "Tuba", "Lituus" or "Buccina") as well as in the Byzantine era.
After the fall of the Roman empire the trumpet disappeared from Europe and was not reintroduced until the Middle Ages, when during the Cursades the instruments were taken from the Saracens as war booty and soon became widespread in Europe. The trumpet's most important functions were both the military signaling in the battles as well as the marking of power and status, as only a king was allowed to have trumpeters at his court.
In the 16th and 17th centuries the Royal Trumpeters and Ketteldrummers held a privileged position at the Habsburg court in Vienna and were the first to get the rights of founding a guild, unique in the Holy Roman Empire in that time. The guild regulated the number of trumpeters and ensured the trumpet's exclusiveness by restricting where it could be played and by whom.
Further courts, like that of the Emperor of Saxony in Dresden or that of the Bishop of Olomouc in Kremsier (today Kromeríz, Czech Republic) as well as the courts in Bologna and London were well-known for their orchestras, especially for the splendid sound of their trumpet choirs. Some of the most renowned trumpet players (P. Vejvanovský, G. Fantini) and composers (J.H. Schmelzer, H.I.F. Biber, J.J. Fux) wrote intricate compositions for the trumpet or complete brass choir.
In the medieval towns and cities of Europe the loud, signaling sounds of the trumpets were used for the warning of fire or other dangers, like the approach of enemies. The so-called "waits," a group of trumpeters and shawm-players, observed the area from the church towers or other central towers to communicate any danger to the bell ringers, watchmen and the citizens in general. Later their task became a more ceremonious and decorative adjunct of civic life, providing musical entertainment at official city proceedings. J.S. Bach sincerely appreciated the important tradition of the "Turmblasen" by the municipal "Stadtpfeifer" in Leipzig. Until today a military music corps, consisting mainly of brass instruments, above all trumpets, plays on all official state ceremonies.
The form of the natural trumpet which had been developed in the late Middle Ages was a twice folded or closed S-shape, consisting of three yards, with a bell-shaped flare of exact mathematical proportions. The mouthpiece, as the supporting sound generator, is inserted into the first yard. The joint of the first two sections is concealed under a tightly fitted cover which in the Baroque period had a ball-shaped decoration surrounding it. This ball, called the "boss," is not a merely decorative element but strengthens the joint that attaches the bell to the rest of the instrument and serves as a grip to hold the instrument. The mouthpiece has to support and contain the vibrating membrane, i.e. the player's lips, and to produce a complementary edge-tone.
The natural trumpet is able to produce only the notes of the harmonic series. The sound of the trumpet is generally produced by blowing air through closed lips as to produce a "buzzing" effect through vibration with the support of the mouthpiece. The player can select the pitch from a range of harmonic series or overtones through altering the amount of muscular contraction in the lip formation, supported by a certain tongue manipulation.
Boy Blowing Bubbles (detail)
Frans van Mieris
1663
26 x 19 cm
Mauritshuis, The Hague
Although the picture of the artist's studio is a far cry from the realistic working conditions of a Dutch painter, Vermeer nonetheless shares with the modern viewer one of his "trade secrets." Near the top of the canvas the painter has begun depicting the model's laurel wreath in fluid brushstrokes. Curiously, the leaves are colored a decidedly blue instead of the deep green one would expect. This was not a mistake.
It should be remembered that 17th-century painters had a handful of pigments, a fraction of those available to any artist today. One of the serious lacunas of his palette was a deep, stable green indispensable for rendering foliage. Dutch painters remedied this by employing a technique called glazing. First, the area intended to be green was modeled in pale shades of blue. Once thoroughly dry, the same area was painted over with a syrupy mixture of a transparent yellow paint and drying oil, usually linseed or poppy oil. This transparent yellow glaze, as it was called, produces an exceptionally natural, deep green without concealing the dark and light modeling beneath.
This particular glaze was utilized extensively by Dutch still life painters. Altering the intensities and proportions of the blue underpainting and the yellow glaze, still-life painters could obtain a wide range of natural greens which were not available as single pigments.
Unfortunately, this method sometimes had disastrous consequences. The yellow glaze, if not properly executed or exposed to negative environmental conditions, may fade in time. The foliage in Vermeer's own Little Street has suffered from such a malady. A spectacular example of this defect can be seen in Frans van Mieris' Boy Blowing Bubbles (see above).
Much has been written about Vermeer's professional and social aspirations. His family background would be described today as lower middle-class. His grandparents were illiterate and so was his mother. But Vermeer was ambitious.
The Delft artist demonstrated throughout his career the willingness to disengage himself from his original social standing and define himself as an artist/gentleman rather than a painter/artisan. Many Dutch artists were more than content to churn out less-than-original paintings and as long as they received adequate pay they were happy to consider themselves artisans.
Vermeer married the daughter of a well-to-do Delft patrician which entailed a significant move from the lower, artisan class of his Reformed parents to the higher social stratum. His mother-in-law seems to have had a discreet art collection and connections with a few noted Dutch painters. Archival evidence shows that in 1654, the artist is mentioned for the first time as "Meester-schilder" (Master painter) indicating he had by this time improved his professional and social status. By 1655, the "Sr " (signior or seigneur) preceding Vermeer's name in an archival document is a sure sign of the artist's improved social status. Vermeer's father was never distinguished in such a way in any of the numerous documents which regard him. Furthermore, Vermeer was elected various times to headof the St Luke Guild of Delft. In 1663, the dignified French diplomat Baron Balthasar de Monconys visited his studio most likely acting on advice from Constantijn Huygens, an influential politician and one of the foremost connoisseurs of Dutch art.
However, the most graphic indication of how Vermeer defined his position as an artist is manifested in his show-case piece, The Art of Painting. In this painting, Vermeer identifies himself with an elitist spiritual and intellectual role of the artist rather than the workaday life of the artisan. Few of the real painter's tools are shown visible while many of the props in the composition denote "inspirational" value and awareness of the issues connected with the art of painting.
Historically, one's occupation was evaluated on the basis of its proximity to, or distance from, physical labor since manual work had been associated with slavery in antiquity. Though early Renaissance artists were certainly not considered slaves, their mechanical labor placed their social ranking firmly on the lower side of the cultural divide.
In an effort to prove painting's superiority to sculpture, the great Leonardo da Vinci argued that painting involved less physical effort than sculpture. Sculpture "causes much perspiration which mingles with the grit and turns to mud." The sculptor's face is "pasted and smeared all over with marble powder, his dwelling is dirty and filled with dust and chips of stone." The painter on the other hand "sits before his work at the greatest of ease, well dressed and applying delicate colors with his light brush". His home is "clean and adorned with delightful pictures" and he enjoys "the accompaniment of music or the company of the authors of various fine works." Vermeer's Art of Painting could not have been too far from what Leonardo had in mind.
From about 1400, artists attempted to elevate their status in society. Renaissance painters attempted to qualify not only as themselves, but the entire profession as members of the Liberal, rather than Mechanical Arts. They seized on self-portraiture to help them prove their point. This was done by stressing the intellectual components in art and its production, emphasizing the artist's genius inherent and recasting the artist as a member of the social and artistic nobility as well as a part of the "reflected glory" of famous artists in history.
"Monuments Man" Lt. Daniel Kern and mine
worker Max Eder inspect The Art of
Painting, found inside the mine at Altaussee.
Adolf Hitler wanted Vermeer's Art of Painting for one of his most ambitious projects, the giant art museum he planned to create in Linz, his Austrian birthplace. In 1940 he purchased it for 1.65 million Reichsmarks from Jaromir Czernin, the brother-in-law of Austria's prime minister from 1934 until Austria was annexed by Germany in 1938. The painting had been in Czernin's family since the 19th century.
As Hitler saw Vermeer as the embodiment the great artist he desired The Art of Painting to be one of the main attractions in the new Führer Museum in Linz, which he intended to fill with the art he had looted from all over Europe. At the end of the war, American troops found it stashed in a vault with a handful of other masterpieces in an Austrian salt mine along with thousands of other plundered works, including Michelangelo's Bruges Madonna and Vermeer's own Astronomer. In the final months of the war, after Hitler issued his famous Nero Decree calling for the destruction of all German infrastructure, orders were issued by the local Nazi gauleiter to destroy the artworks by blowing up the mines. His plan was foiled because lower-echelon Nazis saw no reason to ruin a perfectly good salt mine and had decided to destroy the entrance to the cave.
The Czernins began petitioning the Austrian government for the restitution of the painting in the 1960s, without success. The government argued that the sale was voluntary and the price adequate. The family has now come back with a study of the sale that they claim shows that it was made under duress.






