Vermeer 's Painting in the Context of the Dutch Golden Age of Painting
Vermeer 's choice of subject matter was of capital importance to his concept of art. No matter how masterfully his works are depicted, it would be incorrect to assume that he painted for the sake of painting and that subject matter was secondary to aesthetics. His range of subjects, although not large, provided a reservoir of images that permitted him to reach deep and experiment universal emotions. His paintings are arresting for their lack of clear-cut narrative, for their externalization of seemingly inconsequential moments.1
Not a single still life, nude, oil study, finished or preparatory drawing, copy,2 etching or engraving by Vermeer has survived. All 36 (?) surviving paintings must be considered finished works, executed according to the high standards set by the artist, except perhaps, for the four heads (tronien) whose degree of finish, although aesthetically effective, is more abbreviated in respects to those of the interiors and landscapes. Nor is there any evidence that Vermeer collaborated with other artists or artisans. The artist worked slowly, producing two, three or four highly finished pieces a year. His production is very limited even when compared to artists who painted small pictures in a similar time-consuming mode. Some landscape painters are know to have depicted more than one thousand works in their lifetimes.
The unusually slender dimension of Vermeer 's opus testifies to the artist 's elevated ambitions. Every component of theme and composition are so meticulously calculated that he could paint no more.
More than half of Vermeer 's entire artistic production had been absorbed by a single Delft patron, the rich Pieter van Ruijven (1624–1674). Only a patron could provide economic protection to an artist who worked so slowly. It seems plausible that Van Ruijven3 had styled himself as a patron of the arts along the lines of his distant cousin François Spiering (c. 1576–1630) who had paid 500 guilders of the right of first option on the works of Gerrit Dou, the most sought-after painter of the late 1660s. In the free-market climate of Netherlands such long-term arrangements between collectors and painters were rare.
Vermeer 's paintings were referred to in his own times with terms such as "perspectives," "little dandies" (jonkertjes),4 and "a gay company" (Een vrolyk geselschap).5 The term "little dandies," meaning well-dressed figures painted in small scale, was also used describe works by Caspar Netscher and Eglon van der Neer.
Vermeer worked in the following categories:
Although history painting was no longer the dominant art form in the Netherlands a number of Dutch history painters prospered in Vermeer 's time. A few, such as Michiel Jansz. van Mierevelt (1567–1641) or Cesar van Everdingen (1616/17–buried October 13, 1678) and Jan de Bray (c.1627–1697), had attained prestigious commissions from the court at The Hague and financial success. Van Mierevelt and his burgeoning studio churning out hundreds of portraits and allegorical subjects to suit the conservative, aristocratic vision of the court of The Hague. Vermeer 's foray into the history painting tells us something about his lofty ambitions and, likely, the type of training he received although neither the whereabouts nor the master with whom he studied are known.
Other than the Diana and her Companions and Christ in the House of Martha and Mary, Vermeer is known to have painted a Jupiter, Venus and Mercury and a Visit to the Tomb. The art historian Arthur K. Wheelock Jr. has also attributed to Vermeer a youthful copy the Saint Praxedis originally painted by the Italian painter Felice Ficherelli. This attribution has not been accepted by many in the Dutch art history community.
In the first of the two canvases, the Diana and her Companions, the treatment of light is conventional and the three-dimensional spaces is anything but coherent. The planimetric organization of the painting 's surface shows little, if none, of the sophistication of his later works. Nonetheless, these few years of artistic incubation were not without significance for his pictorial evolution.
Although important from an art historical point of view, had the two surviving history paintings not been by the hand of Vermeer, it is likely they would fade into the panorama of competent Dutch history painters which enthuse art historians more than the art going public.
The bordeeltje genre which dealt in mercenary love had long been popular with Netherlandish artists. In the sixteenth century, the pictorial tradition of the brothel was closely associated with the New Testament parable of the Prodigal Son (Saint Luke 15:11-32) who squandered his inheritance on wine, women and song. However, like many other traditional genre themes, during the first decades of the seventeenth century, the brothel scene became gradually distanced from its religious origins and took on a life of its own.
In 1658, the 26-year-old Vermeer painted his first dated work, Procuress(fig. 1), different in atmosphere, execution and subject matter in respects to the history works. It is not known why the young artist changed so abruptly his artistic course and embraced the so-called bordeeltjes subject. Perhaps, after expected commissions from the nearby court of The Hague failed to materialize, the young painter may have wished to be more in tune with his times even though the motif had already been exploited for decades.
Although the subject of prostitution seems entirely out of key in respects to his later production, it should be remembered that Vermeer was brought up in his father 's inn where drinking, shouting and betting must have been the norm. Sex peddling, if not witnessed directly on the premises of Mechelen, must have been unavoidable to some degree for anyone who moved about urban centers.
The Procuress, which had close precedents in the Loose Company by Van Baburen (fig. 2) and A Concert by Jan Gerritsz van Bronkhorst, is perhaps the first of a long line of borrowed compositions on which Vermeer would re elaborate his works according to his own sensitivity.
Particularly notable is the Delft painter 's detached treatment of the hot-blooded convention. Although the cocky and/or drunk rake makes no secret of his intentions—his hand is unceremoniously plopped flat upon the young prostitute 's breast—never was a member of the world 's oldest profession was decked out with such fine lace, chaste headgear and a dress pulled so tightly around the young prostitute 's neck that it leaves literally everything to be imagined. Compare Vermeer 's rendition to The Procuress by Gerrit van Honthorst (fig. 3), one of the most successful exemplars of the motif.
Recently restored, Vermeer 's Procuress now exhibits a chromatic intensity that bridges the tempered palette of his early history paintings with the brilliant color schemes of the two interior genre scenes which soon followed, The Milkmaid and the Officer and Laughing Girl.
In any case, Vermeer abandoned the bordeeltje motif even more hastily than he had abandoned history painting turning to scenes of every-day life, or what modern art historians call "genre."
Vermeer painted 26 genre scenes. Only one represents a member of the lower class, The Milkmaid. In Vermeer 's time, interior pieces were commonly identified as "merry companies." Two, or perhaps three of his genre scenes can be considered allegorical: The Art of Painting, The Woman Holding a Balance and the Allegory of Faith. The latter was very likely a commissioned by some religious individual or group.
Today, all of Vermeer 's interiors are referred to as genre paintings, or more specifically, genre interiors. The term "genre," which in French means "kind" or "type," was established the late 18th century by French academic theorists (the word genre was probably used in this sense for the first time toward the end of the 18th century by French writer Quatremère de Quincy). Different than a history painting that represents a decisive moment of a written narrative, either Biblical or Classical, with identifiable figures, a genre painting represents a situation with anonymous people. In many genre paintings, certain common objects (e.g. musical instruemnts, bird cages, foot warmers slippers or brooms) are deliberately pictured for the symbolic meaning they might give to the situation. Genre painting enjoyed enormous popularity in Northern Europe, particularly in the seventeenth century.
In Vermeer 's times, there was no such catch-all definition to describe scenes of daily life. Pictures were defined more specifically. There were merry companies "gezelschapjes," conversation pieces "conversaties," character heads "tronien," brothel scene "bordeeltjes" or guard room scenes "kortengarden." Despite their middling status in contemporary theory, these kleyne beuzelingen (little trifles) were produced in great quantity and frequently fetched large sums.
The most popular motifs of genre painting evolved considerably over the span of a few generations. Compositions and subject matter were reiterated, juggled about, fused and updated. Some styles became more sophisticated. The fijnschilders of Leiden took the opposite direction taken by many Dutch painters, who abbreviated techniques in order to increase their output, dedicating the utmost energy to achieving a virtually microscopic level of detail and balanced compositions. While many Dutch works could be purchased for 10 or 20 guilders on the open market those of fijnschilders could fetch 500, 1,000 or more guilders, the price of an average house. Only the economic elite could afford fijnschilder works. By the 18th century, the popularity of genre painting in the Netherlands was eclipsed somewhat by a taste for larger-scale decorative works. It was customary among painters of high finish to charge for the time he worked on a painting, using and hourly rate.
Genre themes, often inspired by earlier Dutch works, remained popular in the oeuvres of French artists Jean Siméon Chardin (1699–1779), Jean Baptiste Greuze (1725–1805), and Jean Honoré Fragonard (1732–1806).
It is generally held that the first true genre interiors (fig. 4) were painted by Willem, Buytewech, or "Gheestige Willem" (Witty Willem) as he was called. Although crude in comparison to Vermeer 's quietist haute-bourgeoisie interiors, Buytewech 's ground-breaking interior spaces of the late 1610s were replete with wall maps and groups smartly dressed damsels and dandies, more or less wiling away their youth in frivolous pastimes. Brightly colored figures occupy a shallow interior, "pressing on us their enjoyment of music, wine and those notorious aphrodisiacs, oysters. But rather than communicating an obvious narrative, the figures are posed in attitudes of merriment, swagger and romance." 6
During the decades that followed, interior painting slowly became more refined. Buytewech 's merry companies evolved into the hushed interiors of Gerrit ter Borch with one or two figures quietly engaged in refined activities such as letter writing or letter reading (no doubt love letters with a Petrachan slant). Buytewech 's garish palette gave way to Ter Borch faint powder blues and pinks and Vermeer 's impalpable grays, sky blues and light lemon yellows. After a full 50 years, the happy chaos of Buytewech 's mixed-up compositions were replaced by Vermeer 's quietist, pas pro toto interiors.
"By mid-century, it [landscape] was the most widely produced and collected category of painting and, on average, one of the most affordable. While landscape encompassed numerous modes, from the pastoral to the allegorical, its least assuming theme was its most innovative: the local land."7
In general, it can be said that monetary value coincided with a hierarchical order and the size of the paintings. Larger historical paintings receiving the most amount and small floral paintings receiving the least. The convenient price and availability of landscape paintings made them the art form of the middle-class.8
Vermeer painted two landscapes which have suruvued, or more precisely, one cityscape, theThe View of Delft and one streetscape, The Little Street. A surviving document informs us another streetscape existed.
The View of Delft is Vermeer 's largest and most time consuming work of his oeuvre, except perhaps, the elaborate Art of Painting. Since nothing has come down to us concerning the artist 's intentions in regards this (or for that matter, any other work) art historians have felt obliged to somehow fill the gap. Walter Liedtke believes that the view could have been commissioned by Vermeer 's patron, Pieter van Ruijven who had collected more than half of the artist 's artistic production including the View of Delft. Furthermore, the art historian points out that Van Ruijven 's collection the two small-scale streetscapes already mentioned as well as three architectural paintings by Emanuel de Witte, including a patriotic view of William the Silent 's tomb in the Nieuwe Kerk which Vermeer spectacularly highlighted in his View of Delft. Van Ruijven would have also been aware of the historically proclaimed relation between an artist 's reputation and the fame bestowed on his city. Dutch citizens strongly identified not only with their republic, but with their city of birth as well. Their civic pride is testified by innumerable Dutch cityscapes many of which are so similar to one another that they are virtually indistinguishable expect a few characteristic church towers or large civic buildings.
Curiously, even the earliest reference to The Little Street describes it as a "house" rather than a "street." As in few other Dutch townscapes, the intimacy of domestic life prevails over mere architectural features. In those times, Vermeer 's house was not the kind of luxurious townhouse that was going up on the fashionable Oude Delft but a modest house from a distant past which had somehow resisted the misfortunes of the city, old but not dilapidated. To anyone who gazed upon the Little Street in seventeenth-century Netherlands the now unfamiliar Dutch term, schilderachtig, would have come to mind. Schilderachtig, which means "picture worthy" or "worthy of painting" corresponds fairly well to today 's "picturesque." However, in the seventeenth century, Italian concepts of art, one of which was that the worth of a painting was indivisible from the value of its subject, continued to weigh heavily upon European painting. Accordingly, an old woman, a dilapidated farmhouse, a village peasant scene or Vermeer 's humble house would have drawn sneers since only grand Biblical or historical narratives were truly worthy of great art.
from: National Gallery of Art website http://www.nga.gov/collection/
The emergence of the Dutch school of painting in the early seventeenth century is one of the most remarkable phenomena in the history of the visual arts. The Dutch Republic, a small country that had only become a political entity in 1579 and was still suffering from the effects of a long and arduous war with Spain, would hardly seem to have had the resources to nourish and sustain its artistic traditions. Nonetheless, in every respect, the Dutch seem to have drawn strength from adversity; they profited in terms of trade, political awareness, religious tolerance, wealth and above all, self-esteem. They were proud of their achievements and were determined to provide for themselves a broad and lasting foundation that would define their unique social and cultural heritage.
The political and religious attitudes of the period are not readily apparent in the work of Dutch artists. The still lifes, portraits, landscapes, seascapes and genre scenes that characterize this school of painting are surprisingly lacking in information on the major events of the day. Nevertheless, the philosophical bases from which artists worked are clearly the same as those governing decisions in contemporary political, military and religious activities. This ideology was essentially threefold: that God 's work is evident in the world itself; that, although things in this world are mortal and transitory, no facet of God 's creation is too insubstantial to be noticed, valued, or represented; and that the Dutch, like the ancient Israelites, were a chosen people, favored and blessed by God 's protection.
Underlying the essential realism of Dutch art, thus, is an allegorical view of nature that provided a means for conveying various messages to contemporary viewers. The Dutch, with their ingrained Calvinist beliefs, were a moralizing people. While they thoroughly enjoyed the sensual pleasures of life, they were aware of the consequences of wrong behavior. Paintings, even those representing everyday objects and events, often provide reminders about the brevity of life and the need for moderation and temperance in one 's conduct. Subjects drawn from the Bible, mythology and ancient history, likewise, were often chosen for their moralizing messages or for establishing parallels between the Dutch experience and great historical, literary and political events of the past.
For centuries it was believed that Dutch painters, Vermeer included, represented real-life situations to the best of their ability and little more. However, modern art historians argue that such narrow view of a Vermeer 's production does not do justice to the artist 's complex agenda or the seventeenth-century mind set in which the artist created his works. As the Dutch art historian Eddy de Jongh wrote, scholars "usually do not doubt Vermeer 's intention of investing his work with meaning. The question is merely what that meaning was and, above all, whether it still can be deciphered."9 In Vermeer 's time, subject matter was not disparaged, even though it was frequently determined by market opportunity, nor had it become a handy excuse to perform experiments in paint and visual perception as for Cézanne and the moderns who followed. The idea that an artist could have arranged multiple figures in an anonymous landscape such as Cézanne 's Large Bathers for the sake of aesthetics interest was inconceivable in Vermeer 's time.
Inspired by Erwin Panofsky 's revolutionary study of iconography in Italian art, the Dutch iconographic movement (spearheaded by De Jongh) postulated that Vermeer and his fellow Dutch painters were not only talented all-eyes-and-no-brain realists after all, but thinkers who cleverly incorporated hidden messages in their illusionist images in order to "instruct and delight." De Jongh connected the Dutch moralizing tendency, manifested in immensely popular emblematic literature, to contemporary works of art claiming that certain common objects such as stockings, muscial instruments, bird cages, bubbles or arrows, often stand for other things and even for abstract ideas. Dutch thought was characterized by an "enormous fascination" with analogies, metaphor, paradox "as well as anything that was (or appeared to be) multilayered or open to a variety of interpretations."10 For example, De Jongh was the first to hypothesize that the background Cupid painting-within-a-painting of Vermeer 's late Lady Standing with a Virginal was deliberately inserted to comment on the scene which unfolds below via a well know emblem by Otto van Veen that displays a similar Cupid holding an upheld card. The emblem 's motto, "Perfectus Amor est nisi ad unum," states that perfect love is but for one lover. Thirty years later, however, De Jongh would, admit with the intellectual honesty that distinguishes his thought, that he was uncertain exactly how the painter intended the inserted moral to function. Was Cupid 's message a confirmation of the young musician 's solid moral standards or was he "confronting her precisely because her conduct was not above reproach"? Could Vermeer have directed the moral to the viewer of the painting instead of the musician or, perhaps, "left all the interpretations open inviting the viewer to make a choice, or a combination of choices."
Since the fifteenth century, when theorists sought to elevate the status of the painter by contending that he dealt in "ideas" worthy of the philosopher or the poet, the lesser genres of Dutch painting had suffered in comparison with Italian history painting. "While the Italians were credited with powers of generalizing and abstracting, the Dutch were typically seen as content to engage in what Reynolds termed the "mere mechanical labour of copying."11 In its heyday, iconography 's explanatory model appeared particularly compelling because it challenged the hitherto unquestioned habit of considering Dutch paintings mirrors of contemporary life. Bestowing narrative value to Vermeer 's works made them more worthy of intellectual appreciation.
One of the weak points of the iconographic argument, lamented even by its founder De Jongh, is that there exists no t a single period text that deals in any detail the concept "hidden meaning" in reference to genre painting. Moreover, there is no way to show that "a moral purpose, even if it can be shown to have been explicitly declared by painters or collectors, was more than a pretext for the gratifications" 12 offered by the painting 's illusionist image. In too many cases, symbols appeared to have had multiple meanings, often contradictory, making once-and-for-all interpretations near impossible. De Jongh later widened his own theory to include the possibility of deliberate ambiguity and multivalence. The most sustained period discussion of genre painting by de Lairesse in, "Handelende van 't antiek en 't modern" ("Of things antique and modern"), part of de Lairesse 's exhaustive examination of history painting of in the Groot Schilderboek, makes no mention of concealed meaning or any kind of meaning at al. On the contrary, the theoretician laments that "modern" painting accomplishes little more than representing what meets the eye without any attempt to improve or ennoble it.
Some art writers have come to resent the fact that iconographers have brought many to believe that pictures should be looked upon as puzzles, or as "a ciphered text…or a skeleton hidden in a cupboard…always there waiting to be found, somehow behind the painting…" as if, "the painted work had committed a crime…"13 If Dutch paintings were reminders that pleasure is fleeting and death inevitable, "one begins to wonder why so many people were eager to buy them. It is hard to believe that what has been called the first mass-consumers' art market in Europe was mainly driven by a collective appetite for moralizing..."14
In 1984, Svetlana Alpers, albeit quietly, declared intellectual war on the idea that Dutch paintings could be read like texts. Her major contention is that Dutch painting could be summed up as an "art of description." In Dutch culture, she hails, information could be perceived, assimilated, used and enjoyed in purely visual terms; that is, without the interposition of language. It could not be understood within the terms of the dominant Italian "textual culture," which, instead, sought emblematic, allegorical or philosophical meanings in a serious painting.15 Thus, the meaning of seventeenth-century Dutch art is not to be sought beneath the pictorial surface but is made visible on it. According to Alpers, Vermeer 's View of Delft provides a perfect example of how Dutch painters described "a world that continues beyond the canvas," spread out, "staining the surface with colour and light, impressing itself upon it."
Alpers' point of view was initially well received. Didactic moralizing, teasing, humor and sexual innuendos that the iconographers had seen as typical preoccupations of Dutch painting, were out: science; optics, philosophy and the means by which pictorial illusion is achieved were in. Soon afterwards, writers began to associate Vermeer 's name with Descartes and Plato, something that would have astonished even the artist 's most fervent admirers of past decades.
Alpers' position did not escape criticism. Ivan Gaskell wrote, "Her almost insuperable difficulty… is that without the interposition of language there can be, and indeed there virtually are, no texts which can be used directly to support the theory. Inevitably she must rely heavily on inference and analogy."16 The British art historian Nicholas Penny countered Alpers' argument with a down to earth argument: "surely the artists were doing what good shopkeepers had always done: they meant to entice and intrigue, to whet the appetite and to tease the eye, rather than to provide reliable information–for Martians–about pies, watches or lemons." In effect, applying Alpers' criterion to some of the Vermeer 's key works may be missing a good share some of the artist 's point. The Woman Holding a Balance, the Young Woman with a Water Pitcher and the Woman with a Pearl Necklace have all the air of having meant to be highly personalized "visions" that run deep beneath the canvas rather than "surface descriptions."
In the late 1650s, Vermeer 's art takes a decisive and well-focused thematic direction. The transformation from a history painter to a genre painter seems not to have been an easy one. Nothing in his early works would have prepared him for the complex undertaking of orienting a figure within a realistic architectural space or depicting naturalistic light effects.17 In these works we can feel both natural solidity of the objects and the space, but not yet air, that divides them. Although his rooms are filled with light and space, the world he depicts is essentially a tactile one. Tactile too, is the application of paint.
According to many experts, Vermeer was a late-comer to the field of genre painting. The most significant genre themes18 he was to exploit time and time again had been pioneered by other painters of lesser talent such as Nicolas Maes (1634–1693), Gabriel Metsu (1629–1667). In particular, Pieter de Hooch (1629–1684), one of the most beloved painters of the Netherlands, is believed to have pioneered the light-filled, left-hand corner of the room motif on which Vermeer built much of his oeuvre.
Historians have shown that Vermeer derived his compositions from those in circulation. After all, artistic originality did not have the same priority that it has today. Connoisseurs were capable of discerning nuance and craftsmanship which distinguished his works from the endearing, yet unsettling clumsiness of genre figures by De Hooch. However, even if Vermeer depended on his colleagues for his themes, he brought an intellectual and moral depth to genre painting which seemed foreign to the humane light-heartedness and friendly warmth prized by Dutch art lovers. As Arthur K. Wheelock Jr. has pointed out, "the challenge he seems to have set for himself in the late 1650s was to translate the classicizing tendencies of his early religious and mythological paintings into a contemporary idiom..." Thus, Vermeer 's foray into history painting was to serve him well to the end of his career. One of his most unusual talents consisted in his ability to perceive great potential in minor works of art.
In the 1660s, the rugged surface of the early genre scenes gives way to a sheen typical of works of the fijnschilders Van Mieris. Rather than the hollow, box-like spaces of the earlier interiors, Vermeer seems to concentrate on creating shallow envelopes of luminous space. The most characteristic compositions of this period portray single female figures absorbed in some silent activity, each one set in a subtly different lighting condition. Attention is focused on their intimate thoughts and emotions rather than on their social role. In these so-called "pearl pictures" the figures and ground are more tightly bound to the planimetric framework of the canvas than in the earlier box-like constructions.
Perspective no longer plays the same dramatic role in defining space that it did in the first interiors. As one Vermeer writer pointed out, rather than the illusion of tactile nearness, Vermeer pursues the illusion of distance defining the psychological space which divides the protagonist 's thoughts and emotions from those of the observer.
Through the distillation and purification of formal elements, unique in Dutch painting, Vermeer obtains the legendary effect of timelessness for which this particular group of works has long been noted. Every object assumes its place within a carefully balanced composition and the viewer feels that nothing could be added or subtracted without disturbing the painting 's stillness.
In the early 1660s Vermeer executed four small canvases eloquently named the "pearl pictures" by Lawrence Gowing which are among the artist 's most lucidly conceived yet enigmatic works: Woman in Blue Reading a Letter, Woman Holding a Balance, Woman with a Lute and Woman with a Pearl Necklace. The Young Woman with a Water Pitcher has been added to the group, obviously, not with the intention to revise Gowing 's well-known term, but because the painting bears important compositional affinities with the four other pictures.
The subject matter of the pearl pictures is restricted to the figure of a single woman, seen in profile, who momentarily engages in some discreet activity in a left-hand corner of a room, very near a window. While persistent iconographical interpretations seem to have successfully illuminated the story behind the Woman Holding a Balance, the others have resisted interpretative attempts with more success. Nonetheless, a common theme that unites the women 's activities might be thoughtful reflection (or distraction).
Even by Vermeer 's standards, the scenes of these works are organized with exceptional economy utilizing a table with a single woman, a meager still life, a few carefully chosen props, a map or painting on the background wall and one or two chairs (infrared reflectograms reveal that the original version of Woman with a Pearl Necklace once displayed a large wall map behind the standing girl). All of the movable objects are structurally simple although some are adorned with elaborate decorative elements (ex. Turkish carpets and large wall maps).
Four of the five pictures show a slice of a window to the left and four display chairs (a second chair once occupied the lower left-hand corner of the composition of the Young Woman with a Water Pitcher). All the scenes are staged against a simple, white-washed wall set parallel to the picture plane. The particular hue and tonal values of the white-washed walls are key to establishing the direction, intensity and quality of the incoming light and constitute an unsung technical tour de force of the artist 's oeuvre.
But more than for their parts, exquisite as some of them may be, these works have invited scrutiny for the way in which these parts are artfully arranged. They bear prominent three-dimensional and, perhaps, planimetric compositional analogies, not only for the visual evidence that they exhibit today, but for some elements that were once part of the original compositions but subsequently revised or cancelled by the artist. Set side by side, the pearl pictures encourage comparison and perhaps disclose something about how the artist thought through one work after another, combining similar compositional elements with utmost care to obtain autonomous artistic statements. There is no evidence that Vermeer conceived these pictures as part of a group, intended to be hung and appreciated together..
By the 1670s, Vermeer had mastered every facet of painting technique and the excellent state of many of these works testifies to the fact. Overpainting is less frequent than before. Not a single compositional change has been discovered, either through microscopic analysis, infrared photography, or x-radiography, in The Art of Painting, one of Vermeer 's most complicated pictorial constructions.
Contours had become again sharp and paint is applied with the utmost economy. In some areas paint has been applied so thinly that the underlying ground can be clearly observed. This fact has lead some scholars to believe a few of the paintings, such as The Geographer and the Lady Writing a Letter with her Maid, were left unfinished. Vermeer 's brushwork increasingly frees itself from descriptive function and is so calligraphic that flirts with the virtuoso. Here and there a sense of brittleness becomes apparent especially appreciable in the modeling of the human forms.
The abstraction of form take on the utmost importance, so much that some parts of the paintings acquire an independent existence even though the stylistic idiosyncrasies which are characteristic of this period can no longer be explained by camera obscura vision or optical considerations. "The accents of color Vermeer used to indicate the folds of the woman 's dress or the exquisite decorative rose of the guitar in The Guitar Player, for example, are seen first and foremost as paint, and then only secondarily as descriptive of material texture." The Love Letter has the air of fine, exotic inlay.
The faces of some of the figures, such as that of The Guitar Player, appear conventionally rendered even though they remain agreeable. One has the sensation that the psychological introspection of the Girl with a Pearl Earring or Study of a Young Woman is either no longer of interest to the mature artist or simply no longer requested by the market that favored the new, if somewhat artificial French style. Nevertheless, pictorial constructions of great subtlety and originality like The Lacemaker and the Lady Writing a Letter with her Maid dispel notions of an artistic decline.
Vermeer painted in all four tronies, the iconic Girl with a Pearl Earring (fig. 5), her "sister" Study of a Young Lady (fig. 6) and two tiny panels of odd-looking women sporting somewhat outlandish hats. It is paramount to understand that none of these works were meant to function as a formal portrait. Tronies were not commissioned pieces. Tronies were probably sold on spec.
The term "tronie," which derived from the French "trogue," refers to "heads" or "faces" which had been popularized by Rembrandt and his followers. Even though the tronie represents a bust length single figure, it is not a portrait in the seventeenth-century meaning of the word. In contemporary usage, tronie might cover any picture of an unidentified sitter, but in modern art-historical usage it is typically restricted to figures who do not seem to have been intended to be identifiable. The tronie furnished the artist an opportunity to demonstrate his ability in rendering some kind of exotic garment or characteristic facial types that struck him in particular. The artist wearing exotic headgear, the dashing soldier or the "Turkish archer" were favorite tronies.
"The troni with its anonymous models doing and meaning next to nothing, was perfect for collectors who wanted an affordable proof of the mastery of a given painter. This master made himself recognizable by his personal style, his signature and sometimes also by depicting his own features. Van de Wetering explains that the production of personalized "collector 's items" was a new function of the 'tronie' that did not replace its earlier functions."19