Rembrandt: The Complete Edition of the Paintings
by Abraham Bredius, 3rd edition revised by Horst Gerson
Phaidon, 612, 664 illustrations pp., $20.00
by Horst Gerson
Reynal, 527, 600 illustrations, 80 color pages pp., $39.95
by Joseph-Emile Muller, translated by Brian Hooley
Abrams, 272, 134 illustrations, 58 in color pp., $7.50
Rembrandt: Life and Work
by Jakob Rosenberg
Phaidon, 386, 283 illustrations pp., $4.95 (paper)
Rembrandt As An Etcher
by Christopher White
Pennsylvania State University, 2 vols, 531, 348 illustrations pp., $29.95
by Michael Kitson
Phaidon, 24, 50 color plates pp., $5.95
Rembrandt: His Life, His Work, His Time
by Bob Haak, translated by Elizabeth Willems Treeman
Abrams, 348, 612 illustrations, 109 in color pp., $35.00
Rembrandt in Amsterdam
by R.H. Fuchs, translated by Patricia Wardle, translated by Alan Griffiths
New York Graphic Society, 162, 121 illustrations pp., $9.50
Rembrandt’s “Aristotle” and Other Rembrandt Studies
by Julius Held
Princeton, 224, 132 illustrations, 3 color plates pp., $10.00
There are any number of good reasons for remembering Rembrandt, but certainly one which is rather irrelevant—the fact that we have ten fingers on our hands and therefore regard centenaries as round numbers. Since Rembrandt died at the age of sixty-three, an undischarged bankrupt, on October 4, 1669, the calender indicated last year that exhibitions had to be mounted and books published, not to speak of articles and radio talks asking the mock-soleman question “How do we stand with respect to Rembrandt today?” How indeed? How do we stand with respect to the Psalms, to Chartres Cathedral? Such works are more or less protected by anonymity from the dangerous institution of centenaries which not only tend to create a revulsion by surfeit but also are counterproductive of scholarship. The normal course of research depends on continuous argument; the ideas and suggestions advanced by one scholar are accepted or rejected by the next, and we all hope that in this sifting process we get a little closer to the truth. But it is rare, in the nature of things, that publications which appear in one given year can take notice of each other, and so the result is less like a dialogue than like a Babel of voices.
The present spate of Rembrandt books provides an instance which has become notorious. Invited by the Phaidon Press to bring their standard edition of Rembrandt’s paintings by A. Bredius (1935) up to date, Professor H. Gerson has not only relegated 56 out of 630 paintings to an appendix of unacceptable pictures, he has also expressed his doubts in the notes about a good many others, among them such famous works as David Playing the Harp before Saul, the proud possession of one of Europe’s most attractive galleries, the Mauritshuis in the Hague.
Ever since this famous picture—which does not have and old history—was acquired by A. Bredius in 1898…it has been hailed as one of Rembrandt’s greatest and most personal interpretations of Biblical history…. I fear that the enthusiasm has a lot to do with a taste for Biblical painting of a type that appealed specially to the Dutch public of the Jozef Israels generation rather than with the quality of the picture itself.
The allusion here is no doubt to the markedly Jewish type of the young David, which reminds the author of paintings by the famous Victorian painter of Jewish life. For it is this realistic type rather than the quality of the paint, he goes on, which has caused the enthusiasm.
The painterly execution is superficial and inconsistent: Saul’s turban is shining and variegated, and rather pedantic in treatment, in contrast with the clothing and the hand, which are painted loosely, in one monotonous tone of brownish red. All this points to an execution in Rembrandt’s studio….
The picture, we learn, has been mutilated.
This may partly help to excuse the emptiness of the curtain motive, but not the somewhat “larmoyant …
Not the Sheik April 23, 1970