Woman in Blue Reading a Letter
(Brieflezende vrouw in het blauw)
c. 1662-1665
oil on canvas
18 1/4 x 15 3/8 in. (46.5 x 39 cm.)
Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam

The fact that this young woman has been often identified with the artist's wife Catharina Bolnes finds no objective support even though it is well known that artists of the time frequently employed family members as models. Gerrit ter Borch, one of the most accomplished and sought-after Dutch painters, portrayed his step-sister Gesina at least twenty times in the most delicate of modes while Frans van Mieris and his wife repeatedly appear in portraits, genre pieces and even as tronies from their marriage in 1657 onwards. The great Rembrandt cast members of his own family and intimate acquaintances as subjects for some of his most touching canvases.
Other than the obvious economic advantage, most painters would have found that working with family members eased tension and favored the complicated process of determining the exact pose and afterwards holding it for long hours. Posing for such a demanding artist like Vermeer must have been hard business, especially during the long gelid Dutch winters where only the household's kitchens were regularly equipped with a fireplace.
Costume expert Marieke van Winkel believes that the blue garment, rarely depicted in Dutch painting, is to be identified as a beddejak, a garment with straight sleeves, usually blue or white satin, closed in the front with a row of bows. As implied by its name, the beddejak was a kind of casual attire worn in bed. Being made of satin, it was most likely reserved for the well-to-do.
The intimate nature of this garment would suggest that the young woman has in fact just risen from her bed and reads her letter in the morning light. An x-radiograph reveals that Vermeer altered the shape of the woman's jacket during the course of his work. Originally, it flared out as in the Woman Holding a Balance. Infrared reflectography also reveals that it originally had a fur trim.
Portrait of a Man in his Study
Gerard ter Borch
c. 1668-1669
Guildhall Art Gallery, City of London
Large, decorative wall maps adorn countless Dutch interior paintings of the 17th century. They are found in almost every conceivable environment, from the shop of the lowly shoemaker to the refined dwellings of the Netherlands's uppermost crust. However, one has the sensation that nearly all of Vermeer's colleagues exploited them as a handy way to enliven otherwise uneventful expanses of wall rather than convey a specific iconographic message directly related to the principle scene of the work (see image left). Certainly, no other painter in history ever lavished such attention on them and observed them with such respectful regard as Vermeer. Perhaps only in his renditions can we truly feel their specific material reality, their delicately undulate surfaces broken here and there by vertical creases tenderly caressed by raking light.
Vermeer's map provides a perfect foil for the geometric severity of the composition; the sinuous topographical drawing seems to allude to the inner emotions of the young woman absorbed in her reading. Vermeer's awareness of the compositional importance of the map becomes evident from the x-radiograph which shows that it originally extended a few centimeters to the left. Vermeer scholar Arthur Wheelock points out that the adjustment reduced the width of the wall to the left of the map so that it would be equal to the width of the wall to the right of the woman rationalizing the composition.
Decorated wall maps were made for practical purposes, for prestige and, more banally, for home decoration. In Vermeer's day, wall maps were a cheap way of embellishing bare white-washed walls and and manifesting of national pride for the United Provinces whose mercantile exuberance had permitted a miniscule patch of land to dominate great part of world trade. These maps were generally glued on heavy clothe and then hung with the aid of wooden rods with at the extremes balls which distanced their fragile surfaces from the humid walls. The demand for decorative maps was so strong that map publishers had begun to reissue older, and in some cases, outdated ones. 17th-century catalogues employed the "suitable for framing" sales pitch adding that some could be customized with decorative additions. Some were hand painted. An extremely limited number of maps have survived in respects to the amount described in inventories, catalogues and other sources. It is through Dutch painting that much of their beauty is known.
The large, monochromatic wall map which hangs behind the standing woman has been identified as a map of Holland and Friesland designed by Balthasar Florisz van Berkenrode in 1620 and printed by Balthasar Jansz Blaeu a few years later. The same map, somewhat colored, appears in the earlier Officer and Laughing Girl. The only surviving example of this map (monochromatic) is in the Westfries Museum, Hoorn (see left).
Quodlibet
Cornelis Norbertus Gysbrechts
1665
Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne
In Dutch art depictions of women reading letters almost always have love associations, and artists found various means to portray both the air of expectation at the arrival of a letter and the subsequential reaction to it.
Although Vermeer provides little context for the letter, it appears to have come unexpectedly, since the finely dressed woman has interrupted her morning toilet to stop and read it. Her bent neck, parted lips, and the drawn-up arms create a sense of expectancy which reverberates inside the taught composition.
On the table lies a momentarily discarded piece of paper which is either the letter's first or second page. Letters were usually not inserted in envelops but folded in three and sealed with wax since paper was still quite expensive in that times.
Period paintings (see trompe l'œil still lives by Cornelis Gysbrechts left) usually show that letters were folded and either sealed or only tied up with a cord. A lady might use a ribbon of her headdress or garment, sometimes wrapped in a small piece of fine cloth when she was in a hurry. It is not known who designed that form(s) of cutting and folding a paper which in our time makes a common envelope.
In most of the paintings with men or women reading or writing letters, a seal or traces if it is not visible.
The social history of the chair is as interesting as its history as an art and craft. The chair is not merely a physical support and an aesthetic object; it is also an indicator of social rank.
Perhaps the most popular form of seating in the time of Vermeer was the so-called Spanish chair, two of which are represented in this painting. Its basic model had evolved in Spain by the 15th century and soon was adopted all over Europe. Normally, the legs of the chair are smooth, round in section, and of slender dimensions; they are sometimes baluster-shaped (vase-shaped) or twisted. It is clearly a bourgeois piece of furniture and was made in considerable numbers. Perhaps the hand-carved lion-head finials were made by a sculptor. The Amsterdam chairmakers' guild treated the Spanish chairmakers as a separate group from 1600 onwards.
Spanish chairs were made of many woods in many styles and they appear thousands of times in Dutch interior painting. Among other precious gifts, in 1612 the city of Amsterdam presented the Sultan of Turkey 14 Spanish chairs made of different exotic woods and upholstered in satin, velvet and gold. This clearly indicates they were considered characteristic and desirable products.
The social history of the chair is as interesting as its history as an art and craft. The chair is not merely a physical support and an aesthetic object; it is also an indicator of social rank.
Perhaps the most popular form of seating in the time of Vermeer was the so-called Spanish chair, two of which are represented in this painting. Its basic model had evolved in Spain by the 15th century and soon was adopted all over Europe. Normally, the legs of the chair are smooth, round in section, and of slender dimensions; they are sometimes baluster-shaped (vase-shaped) or twisted. It is clearly a bourgeois piece of furniture and was made in considerable numbers. Perhaps the hand-carved lion-head finials were made by a sculptor. The Amsterdam chairmakers' guild treated the Spanish chairmakers as a separate group from 1600 onwards.
Spanish chairs were made of many woods in many styles and they appear thousands of times in Dutch interior painting. Among other precious gifts, in 1612 the city of Amsterdam presented the Sultan of Turkey 14 Spanish chairs made of different exotic woods and upholstered in satin, velvet and gold. This clearly indicates they were considered characteristic and desirable products.

The still life on the table is perhaps one of Vermeer's most austere. It shows a string of pearls, an unfolded piece of paper (perhaps the first or second page of the letter) a jewelry box and a scarf-life piece of cloth. Some of the still life, especially the box and scarf, appear to have suffered restoration and were most likely more clearly rendered.
In painter's jargon, the shapes which represent real objects are called positive shapes (or positive space) and the shapes which represent areas between three-dimensional shapes are called negative shapes (or negative space). Inexperienced painters are prone to consider only the impact of positive shapes. Advanced painters know that negative shapes may be used to activate the composition and enhance meaning.
In Vermeer's art, negative space is given prominence that is rare among European painters (the play between positive and negative space was perhaps exploited to its highest degree by Chinese and Japanese artists). Far from being leftovers, the observer feels that the negative spaces, each with a peculiar shape and contour of its own, play an active and subtly expressive role. This is particularly evident in two compositions of the mid-1660s, Woman Holding a Water Pitcher and the present work.
In the Woman in Blue, Vermeer crafted the compositional layout with great attention to the negative spaces formed by the light-gray background wall. Each of these shapes has a simplified character of its own which make the composition easier to read and serves to hold the woman securely in her place. This delicate embrace, reinforced by the central position of the figure, imbues the young woman's momentary gesture with a sense of permanency and stability.
In painter's jargon, the shapes which represent real objects are called positive shapes (or positive space) and the shapes which represent areas between three-dimensional shapes are called negative shapes (or negative space). Inexperienced painters are prone to consider only the impact of positive shapes. Advanced painters know that negative shapes may be used to activate the composition and enhance meaning.
In Vermeer's art, negative space is given prominence that is rare among European painters (the play between positive and negative space was perhaps exploited to its highest degree by Chinese and Japanese artists). Far from being leftovers, the observer feels that the negative spaces, each with a peculiar shape and contour of its own, play an active and subtly expressive role. This is particularly evident in two compositions of the mid-1660s, Woman Holding a Water Pitcher and the present work.
In the Woman in Blue, Vermeer crafted the compositional layout with great attention to the negative spaces formed by the light-gray background wall. Each of these shapes has a simplified character of its own which make the composition easier to read and serves to hold the woman securely in her place. This delicate embrace, reinforced by the central position of the figure, imbues the young woman's momentary gesture with a sense of permanency and stability.
Although most of the picture is satisfactorily conserved the dark passage of the blue tablecloth and a scarf-like piece of cloth which drapes below the jewelry box can barely be made out. It would appear to be the same type used as a minor prop in a number of paintings by Vermeer including the Art of Painting and the Girl with a Pearl Earring.
- violence in Vermeer's life
- "ideal world" or snapshot" of daily life?
- is the young woman pregnant?
- the letter writing motif in painting
- letter writing in the 17th century
- danger lurks within the love letter
- the pitfalls of symbolic interpretation
- ultramarine blue: the king of pigments
- an extraordinary composition
- listen to period music
- signature
- date
- provenance
- technical description
- framed image
- how big is this picture?
- related works 1 2 3 4 5
Vermeer's Woman in Blue Reading a Letter seems so harmonious in color, theme and mood that it is hard to imagine any other compositional solution. Indeed, as in others of his paintings, one has difficulty imagining Vermeer at work, as an artist who had to somehow compose and make tangible a concept he had conceived in his mind. Part of the problem in visualizing Vermeer's working procedure stems from the lack of available information. No drawings, prints or unfinished paintings-indeed, no records of commissions-offer clues to his intent or aspects of his working process.
Arthur K. Wheelock, Jr., Vermeer and the Art of Painting, 1995
No signature appears on this work.
c. 1663-1664
Arthur K. Wheelock Jr. Vermeer: The Complete Works, New York, 1997)
c. 1663-1664
Walter Liedtke Vermeer: The Complete Paintings, New York, 2008)
The support is a fine, plain-weave linen with a thread count of 14.3 x 14.4 per cm². The support has been wax-resin lined and the original tacking edges have been removed. The dark gray ground contains chalk, umber, and lead white. The paint layers extend to the edge of the trimmed canvas on all sides. Some areas, such as the chair and the woman's yellow skirt, have ocher underpainting.
The surface is pitted, primarily in the white mixtures, but also in the blue parts of the background and jacket. Some blanching is evident in the blue tablecloth. The paint surface is slightly abraded, particularly in the raised edges of the paint.
* Johannes Vermeer (exh. cat., National Gallery of Art and Royal Cabinet of Paintings Mauritshuis - Washington and The Hague, 1995, edited by Arthur Wheelock)
literature

- (?) Pieter van der Lip sale, 14 June 1712, no. 22;
- Mozes de Chaves, Amsterdam (1759); De Chaves sale, Amsterdam, 30 November 1772, no. 23;
- P. Lyonet sale, Amsterdam, 11 April 1791, no. 181, to Fouquet;
- sale, Amsterdam (Ph. van der Schley), 14 August 1793, no. 73;
- Herman ten Kate, Amsterdam (?1793-1800);
- Ten Kate sale, Amsterdam, 10 June 1801, no. 118, to Taijs?;
- Lespinasse de Langeac sale, Paris (Paillet), 16 January 1809, no. 85;
- Lapeyriè re sale, Paris, 19 April 1825, no. 127, to Berthaud;
- [John Smith, London (after 1833-1839), sold to Van der Hoop];
- Adriaan van der Hoop, Amsterdam (1839-54);
- Academy of Fine Arts, Amsterdam (1854-85);
- city of Amsterdam, since 1885 on loan to the Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam (inv. C251).
exhibitions
Judging by the serenity which reigns in Vermeer's painting of the early 1660s, one could never imagine how troublesome the artist's personal life had been in those years. In 1663, Willem Bolnes, the brother of Vermeer's wife Catharina, had targeted the artist's family with his uncontrollable outbreaks as he had done in his own family of origin. The situation had deteriorated to the point that his sister Cornelia Thins, who was about to die in 1661, decided to disinherit him.
On various occasions in the past, Willem Bolnes had created a violent commotion in the house, to such an extent that many people gathered before the door. He swore at his mother, calling her an old popish swine, a she-devil, and other such ugly swear words for which in the words of a testimony, "for the sake of decency, must be passed over." Vermeer's maid, Tanneke Everpoel, saw that Bolnes had pulled a knife and tried to wound his mother with it. She further declared that Maria Thins had suffered so much violence from her son that she dared not go out of her room and was forced to have her food and drink brought. Also that Bolnes committed similar violence from time to time against the daughter of Maria's, the wife of Johannes Vermeer, "threatening to beat her on diverse occasions with a stick, notwithstanding the fact that she was pregnant to the last degree."
The Letter
Gerard ter Borch
c. 1660-1662
81.9 x 68.2 cm
The Royal Collection, Buckingham Palace
Art historians have debunked the long-held tenet that Dutch interior painters, like Vermeer, furnished literal transcriptions of the daily life in 17th-century Netherlands. We now know that such interiors were "constructed" rather than "found." Thus, they offer a highly selective view of an ideal world rather than a snapshot of reality. In reference specifically to the art of Gerard ter Borch, perhaps Vermeer's most talented colleague, art historian Alison Kettering suggests that such elaborate paintings not only registered prevailing ideals about women's behavior but help construct and define models to which the owners of such paintings could aspire.
In particular, Maria de Knuijt, the wife of Vermeer's patron Pieter van Ruijven, might have found particularly appealing the chaste dignity which signals Vermeer's interpretations of femininity. Encouragement by faithful, sympathetic patrons to explore domestic subjects no doubt nourished his artistic perfectionism as well as his sense of self.
According to Marieke de Winkel, Dutch costume expert, pregnancy "was not a common subject in art and there are very few depictions of maternity wear. Even in religious paintings such as the Visitation, where depictions of pregnant women is required, the bodies of the Virgin and Saint Elizabeth were usually completely concealed by draperies." De Winkel further argues that "to my knowledge there are no examples of pregnant women in Dutch portraiture, an interesting fact considering that many women were painted in their first year of marriage, a time when they could have been with child." Pregnancy was most likely not seen as aesthetically attractive.
Arthur Wheelock has written that "Dutch fashions in the mid-17th century seemed to have encouraged a bulky silhouette. The impression of the short jacket worn over a thickly padded skirt in Vermeer's painting in particular may create just such an impression."
Woman Tearing a Letter
Dirk Hals
1631
45 x 55 cm
Mittelrheinisches Landesmuseum, Mainz
Although his genius has never been questioned in moderm times, Vermeer was not a particularly inventive painter. Lawrence Gowing, one of the most perceptive Vermeer critics and a painter himself, was the first to point out that it is hard to find a single theme of any boldness in his work which is not based on precedent. After decades of analysis and comparative study, it has become evident that the majority of his figure motifs, including letter readers or writers, are directly derivative.
Dirk Hals (1591-1656), the brother of the famous portraitist Frans Hals, had already pioneered the letter-writing theme by 1631, one year before Vermeer was born. By the time Ter Borch had virtually perfected the subject, Vermeer had only just turned from his first faltering history paintings to this new idiom. Ter Borch's Woman Writing a Letter predates in composition, theme and mood Vermeer's own work by the same title by almost a decade. A comparison between De Hooch's Goldweigher and Vermeer's Woman Holding a Balance provides an astounding example to what extent Vermeer was willing to appropriate thematic and compositional elements, practically verbatim, from his colleagues.
Borrowing successful motifs was standard procedure at the time when painters sold their works on the open, competitive market.

Cupid Presenting a Letter to a Maiden
Emblem from Jan Harmenz. Krul
Pampiere Wereld
(Amsterdam, 1644), vol. 2
Koninklijke Bibliotheek, The Hague
The immensely popular 17th-century paintings of letter reading and letter writing evoke two separate worlds of time and space: the world of the writer or reader depicted by the artist on his canvas and the world of the absent person. These images are so captivating, especially when we are dealing with the love-letter theme, precisely because we will never know the contents of the letters. However, even if pictorial convention suggests that private letters were written by suitors or lovers, recent investigation of period letters written by women show that they deal with a much wider range of subjects than love. Most, in fact, were designed to strengthen social relationships or maintain friendships.
Curiously, the present-day reader must take into account that although the Netherlands enjoyed the highest rate of literacy in Europe, not all who read were able to write, this being especially so with women who generally were given less formal education than boys and were prohibited from attending Latin schools. Marriage registries in Amsterdam which had to be signed by both the bride and groom reveal that one out of three men and two out of three women could not sign their own name. Even accounting for the fact that Amsterdam was a magnet for foreign workers the statistics are nonetheless high by the standards of the day.
Letters, not only a means practical means for communication of business matters, had also become an accepted art form in 17th-century Dutch literature in spite of the classic and Christian ideals of poetry and pose. However, contemporary emblem books characterize letter writing, especially love letters, as a vain pastime and admonish the reader of the transitory nature of worldly existence.
Houwelijck
"Virgin, Lover, Bride, Wife, Mother, Widow"
Jacob Cats
1652
Lover letters became a widespread fashion in the Netherlands and quickly a serious matter. Jacob Cats, the unchallenged "best-seller" of Dutch moralistic literature, took as disapproving attitude to females writing love letters in his Houwelijck (Marriage, 1652), a monumental written example of female conduct described through successive stages of a woman's life.
Cats describes how—within the early months of marriage—the woman had to transform herself from vrijster (courtship girl) to vrouwe (housewife, house manager). To what point real Dutch woman heeded Cats' warnings is unknown.
In the section called "Trouringh" a young female called Rosette dialogues with a slightly older, recently married woman called Sibille about the dangers in composing love letters. To Rosette's question concerning the opportunity to express her feelings through writing, Sibille responds thus:
To write to a young fellow
Is never becoming of a maid;
Your good name, oh demure creature,
Must not be committed to paper;
If someone even lets one word slip out
When the youth gather,
It flies like the wind
So that no one can find it again;
Yet it is not as enduring
As that which is written by the bold pen;
And there follows a quarrel,
As often arises between lovers,
So your letter' and its outrageous statements,
Is announced to the public
And there is no denying it,
The big letters are clearly visible,
And leaves you with the greatest regret,
You will then suffer reproaches;
Thus have you shamed honorable love;
Never write stupid letters.

The woman's satin garment is painted almost entirely with shades of ultramarine blue, white and small quantities of black in the deepest shadows. Vermeer used blue more than any other "strong" color. The fact that he preferred the highest grade of natural ultramarine, the most brilliant and expensive blue pigment available of his time, testifies to the importance he associated with its optical quality and it is not out of the question that the noble lineage of this "pigment of pigments" may have exerted influence on his choice. In the later years of financial hardship his patron Pieter van Ruijven perhaps financed such an expensive habit.
Perhaps the satin dress of the Woman in Blue Reading a Letter best illustrates the psychological power of blue. Throughout history blue was the color of all heavenly gods. It stands for distance, the divine and the spiritual. This interpretation goes back to ancient Egyptians and was taken on by later cultures. From a psychological point of view blue tends to invoke dreamlike states. It instills yearnings, has a calming effect and leads to meditative introspection. Ultramarine blue, which seems to have been employed almost obsessively in the present picture, is even found in the light gray mixtures of the wall and the round ball of the map hanger. Vermeer used the same technique in the Woman Holding a Water Pitcher of the same years.
Natural ultramarine pigment (the coloring substance of paint) is made of the powder of the crushed semi-precious stone lapis lazuli. After being thoroughly purified by repeated washings, the powder is bonded to a drying oil through hand mulling. Only stones of the highest quality could be prepared just by washing and grinding. For lower qualities a laborious method of extracting the mineral lazurite was necessary, which Cennini described in his treatise (c. 1390). The best varieties of lapis lazuli were imported from Afghanistan via Venice.
Although iconographic studies of Vermeer's paintings have yielded important insights into his mode of constructing and conveying concealed meaning, caution should not be put aside when examining the minutiae of his motifs.
On several occasions Vermeer included the same precise objects in significantly different settings and activities. The map of the Netherlands which appears in the present painting, for example, also appears bathed in sunshine in early Officer and Laughing Girl and shrouded in darkness in the late Love Letter. Moreover, Vermeer painted out two large maps, one in the Woman with a Pearl Necklace and the other in the Milkmaid. While the map of Holland in the Officer and Laughing Girl has been linked to the courting soldier who attempts to "conquer" the young girl much as a military campaign conquers land, the same reading would be disastrous if associated with the other pictures.
The appearance of the same map in different contexts tends to undermine the idea of a specific symbolic function for each painting. In his seminal study of Pieter de Hooch, an artist who deeply influenced Vermeer's choice of subject matter, Peter Sutton wrote that it is more probable that the artist was in the habit of quoting familiar sources, usually prints, without much concern for their symbolic content, rather than invoking multiple interpretability. No iconographic interpretation has been advanced in the case of De Hooch's omnipresent maps. It is more likely that Vermeer deployed his maps as compositional and decorative elements analogous to the scores of other Dutch interior painters of the time.
As Arthur Wheelock wrote, "the refinements of this composition are so exquisite that it is difficult to understand how he achieved them." In no other painting did Vermeer create such a meaningful relationship between the "structural framework of the setting and the emotional content of the scene."
The narrative of the picture is of the utmost simplicity and is perhaps Vermeer's interior which has most successfully resisted scholarly interpretation. It shows a young woman in her morning dress as she carefully reads the contents of a letter. Art historians are sure that it is a love letter.
The bell-shaped woman occupies the direct center of the painting, her tight pose exalting both intensity of her emotions and her withdrawal from the surroundings. The large wall map behind her and the table to the lower left securely embraces her within a rectangular pictorial world. The chair to the lower right "protects" her from lateral intrusion while the back of the chair which surfaces from behind the table seals her in from the left. The only signal of the contents of her thoughts is suggested by the swirling patterns of the map which swirl around her. Anecdotal details which might distract the viewer from the central theme are religiously excluded. The few objects on the table constitute perhaps the most Spartan of still lives in the artist's oeuvre.
However, the composition's deceptive simplicity was not achieved without significant revision and artistic license. Autoradiographs reveal that the woman originally wore a different kind of jacket which presumably had fur trimming and flared out like the ones in many other pictures by Vermeer. Wheelock points out that given the lighting scheme and restricted distance of the figure from the back wall, Vermeer eliminated a large shadow which the woman would have cast on the background wall. The edge of the map too, once extended a few centimeters to the left.
Unico Wilhelm van Wassenaer (1692-1766)
Concerto Armonico no. 3, Largo-Andante [1.34 MB]
http://www.amazon.com/Wassenaer-Concerti-Unico-Wilhelm-van/dp/B00006RHPO/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=music&qid=1255264489&sr=1-2




