Seeing Art Through New Eyes
Portrait Of A Man: Velázquez Rediscovered At The Metropolitan Museum Of Art
By CHERYL VAN-BUSKRIK & EMILY RICE, For The Bulletin
Born in Seville, Spain, Diego Rodriguez de Silva y Velázquez (1599-1660) was the first child of Juan Rodriguez de Silva and Jeronima Velázquez. Educated by his parents, he received good training in languages and philosophy. Since he showed an early gift for art, he began to study with a painter and by the age of 12 was apprenticed to Francisco Pacheo, an artist and teacher in Seville. He remained in this school for 5 years studying proportion, perspective, and realism while witnessing the trends in the literary and artistic circles of Seville.
By the early 1620s, Velázquez had established his position and reputation in Seville. He married, started a family and continued to paint historical scenes, portraits and sacred subjects with more pointed and careful realism. In December 1622, King Philip IV’s favorite court painter died and Velázquez was summoned to the court by the powerful minister of the King, Count-Duke of Olivares. Within 2 years, Velázquez was paid to move his family to Madrid which became his home for the remainder of his life. He secured admission to the royal service with a monthly salary, medical benefits, lodging and payment for any paintings he was assigned.
It was during this period that Velázquez painted Portrait of a Man, the feature piece of the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s current show, Velázquez Rediscovered. The painting was formerly credited to the workshop of Velázquez but has been reattributed to the master himself after recent cleaning and restoration. The rehabilitation of this painting represents a major “new” acquisition for the museum, which possesses the finest collection of Velázquez’s works in America.
The painting's fascinating history provides a case study in the ways critical opinion can alter over time. The picture entered the Museum’s collection in 1949 as part of the bequest of Jules Bache, a collector of great distinction and one of the major benefactors of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. At the time Bache acquired the painting in 1926 it was considered by a leading specialist as a self-portrait of Velázquez, and as such it entered the Museum. However, more recent scholarship had a less favorable view of the picture. In the standard 1963 monograph on the artist by José López-Rey, it is described as a "school piece rather close to Velázquez's manner." In 1979, the Museum demoted the attribution to the workshop of Velázquez. What was not realized at that time was the degree to which heavy retouching and a thick, discolored varnish obfuscated the qualities of the picture.
NewYork University Institute of Fine Arts Professor Jonathan Brown, author of the authoritative monograph in English on the artist, concurs that the Portrait of a Man is the work of Velázquez himself – most likely an informal, rapidly painted study, with the head more highly finished than the costume and background, which is a thinly painted gray over a warm pinkish-buff ground.
Even after this reattribution, many questions remain, the most intriguing of which is the identity of the sitter who gazes at the viewer with such intensity. This same individual appears in the far right of another famous Velázquez painting, The Surrender of Breda (Museo del Prado, Madrid), painted about 1635.
The Surrender of Breda is a monumental (307 cm x 376 cm) piece that was destined for the throne room of Spanish King Philip IV. It represents the surrender of the fortified Dutch city of Breda in 1625. Defeated Dutch soldiers, still in possession of their weapons, stand at the left, weary orange flags atop their lances, while the victorious Spanish forces are on the right. A corpulent Dutch officer standing with his back to the viewer is balanced by the hindquarters of a chestnut war horse on the right, and our gaze is met by one soldier from each side, peering out from behind these large forms. A bird’s eye view of the town appears in the background, possibly recreated by Velázquez from maps or engravings of the region.
This painting is popularly called “The Lances” because of the forest of raised spears in the top right corner. They are held aloft by the victorious Spanish troops in a display of power and discipline. Striking as they are, it is interesting that Velázquez did not insert the lances until the final stage of the design.
The painting centers on the opposing commanders. Justin of Nassau is shown handing over the key to the city to the Spanish general Ambrogio Spinola. Justin, whom Velázquez never met, is turned away from the viewer and his face is in shadow; Spinola, whom the artist knew from Philip’s court, looks out toward us and his face is highlighted.
The Spaniards were justly proud of Spinola’s graciousness, depicted through not only his facial expression but also his outstretched hand on Justin’s shoulder to restrain him from kneeling. Although the incident never occurred as it is pictured here, it nonetheless lived in the popular imagination, and Velázquez may have seen the scene similarly staged in a contemporary play by Calendron. In the midst of an unpopular war to subdue Revolt in the Netherlands, The Surrender of Breda captures a moment of Spanish mercy and strength.
The inclusion of the individual from Portrait of a Man in this larger work adds another layer of mystery to the sitter’s identity. The placement of the figure as an observer rather than a direct participant in the action, and his direct gaze looking out at the viewer are both conventions commonly used by artists to discretely include self-portraits in larger works. However, the fact that he is attired like other members of the Spanish contingent would argue against this theory. Although the soldier from Portrait of a Man does bear an arguable resemblance to Velázquez, it is questioned whether the image of a court painter, even one so highly esteemed as Velázquez, would have been acceptable in such a political work for the notoriously decorous Spanish court. Other depictions of Velázquez in his art are all much later in date. Thus the Museum has retained the title Portrait of a Man.
This article was prepared using information from Art through the Ages published by Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, How to Read a Painting by Patrick de Rynck, A History of Western Society published by Houghton Mifflin Company, and The Metropolitan Museum of Art.
By the early 1620s, Velázquez had established his position and reputation in Seville. He married, started a family and continued to paint historical scenes, portraits and sacred subjects with more pointed and careful realism. In December 1622, King Philip IV’s favorite court painter died and Velázquez was summoned to the court by the powerful minister of the King, Count-Duke of Olivares. Within 2 years, Velázquez was paid to move his family to Madrid which became his home for the remainder of his life. He secured admission to the royal service with a monthly salary, medical benefits, lodging and payment for any paintings he was assigned.
It was during this period that Velázquez painted Portrait of a Man, the feature piece of the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s current show, Velázquez Rediscovered. The painting was formerly credited to the workshop of Velázquez but has been reattributed to the master himself after recent cleaning and restoration. The rehabilitation of this painting represents a major “new” acquisition for the museum, which possesses the finest collection of Velázquez’s works in America.
The painting's fascinating history provides a case study in the ways critical opinion can alter over time. The picture entered the Museum’s collection in 1949 as part of the bequest of Jules Bache, a collector of great distinction and one of the major benefactors of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. At the time Bache acquired the painting in 1926 it was considered by a leading specialist as a self-portrait of Velázquez, and as such it entered the Museum. However, more recent scholarship had a less favorable view of the picture. In the standard 1963 monograph on the artist by José López-Rey, it is described as a "school piece rather close to Velázquez's manner." In 1979, the Museum demoted the attribution to the workshop of Velázquez. What was not realized at that time was the degree to which heavy retouching and a thick, discolored varnish obfuscated the qualities of the picture.
NewYork University Institute of Fine Arts Professor Jonathan Brown, author of the authoritative monograph in English on the artist, concurs that the Portrait of a Man is the work of Velázquez himself – most likely an informal, rapidly painted study, with the head more highly finished than the costume and background, which is a thinly painted gray over a warm pinkish-buff ground.
Even after this reattribution, many questions remain, the most intriguing of which is the identity of the sitter who gazes at the viewer with such intensity. This same individual appears in the far right of another famous Velázquez painting, The Surrender of Breda (Museo del Prado, Madrid), painted about 1635.
The Surrender of Breda is a monumental (307 cm x 376 cm) piece that was destined for the throne room of Spanish King Philip IV. It represents the surrender of the fortified Dutch city of Breda in 1625. Defeated Dutch soldiers, still in possession of their weapons, stand at the left, weary orange flags atop their lances, while the victorious Spanish forces are on the right. A corpulent Dutch officer standing with his back to the viewer is balanced by the hindquarters of a chestnut war horse on the right, and our gaze is met by one soldier from each side, peering out from behind these large forms. A bird’s eye view of the town appears in the background, possibly recreated by Velázquez from maps or engravings of the region.
This painting is popularly called “The Lances” because of the forest of raised spears in the top right corner. They are held aloft by the victorious Spanish troops in a display of power and discipline. Striking as they are, it is interesting that Velázquez did not insert the lances until the final stage of the design.
The painting centers on the opposing commanders. Justin of Nassau is shown handing over the key to the city to the Spanish general Ambrogio Spinola. Justin, whom Velázquez never met, is turned away from the viewer and his face is in shadow; Spinola, whom the artist knew from Philip’s court, looks out toward us and his face is highlighted.
The Spaniards were justly proud of Spinola’s graciousness, depicted through not only his facial expression but also his outstretched hand on Justin’s shoulder to restrain him from kneeling. Although the incident never occurred as it is pictured here, it nonetheless lived in the popular imagination, and Velázquez may have seen the scene similarly staged in a contemporary play by Calendron. In the midst of an unpopular war to subdue Revolt in the Netherlands, The Surrender of Breda captures a moment of Spanish mercy and strength.
The inclusion of the individual from Portrait of a Man in this larger work adds another layer of mystery to the sitter’s identity. The placement of the figure as an observer rather than a direct participant in the action, and his direct gaze looking out at the viewer are both conventions commonly used by artists to discretely include self-portraits in larger works. However, the fact that he is attired like other members of the Spanish contingent would argue against this theory. Although the soldier from Portrait of a Man does bear an arguable resemblance to Velázquez, it is questioned whether the image of a court painter, even one so highly esteemed as Velázquez, would have been acceptable in such a political work for the notoriously decorous Spanish court. Other depictions of Velázquez in his art are all much later in date. Thus the Museum has retained the title Portrait of a Man.
This article was prepared using information from Art through the Ages published by Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, How to Read a Painting by Patrick de Rynck, A History of Western Society published by Houghton Mifflin Company, and The Metropolitan Museum of Art.
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