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The mystery of the revealed form:
The Jewish Bride
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The Jewish Bride
1665
Oil on canvas, 121,5 x 166,5 cm
Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam
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The picture of Isaac and Rebecca (The Jewish Bride)has been the
subject of many interpretations. The name The Jewish Bride refers to the
long-held view that the picture portrayed the Jewish father of a bride bidding
farewell to his daughter. A drawing by Rembrandt resulted in what has
become the generally accepted description. This painting is also connected with
a historical event, although it is restricted to the depiction of two people
together. The only thing to remind the observer of the story is the masonry
behind the embracing couple. This could be the well where King Abimelech
eavesdropped on Isaac and Rebecca - yet this motif, which is still alluded to in
the drawing, is absent here. The drawing shows the young woman on the man's lap.
In the painting, however, the figures are merely close to one another, and it
can hardly be ascertained whether they are sitting or standing. Isaac is bending
towards Rebecca, has put one arm around her shoulders, and has laid his left
hand - seen from the viewpoint of the observer - on her breast. The two are not
looking at each other. Their gazes would appear to be turned inwards,
reflective. With her right hand, Rebecca is touching Isaac's hand on her breast
in a confirmatory manner. The drawing shows the same motif; here, however, Isaac
is looking at Rebecca. The pictorial tradition has also handed down this motif
in another narrative context. A drawing by Rembrandt depicts the Prodigal Son in
a tavern, clutching the breast of a girl who is sitting on his lap. Rembrandt
portrayed himself as The Prodigal Son in the Tavern in the Dresden
painting, with Saskia on his lap. The self-portrait became generalized as a
result of the role-playing. The faces and situation in The Jewish Bride produce
such an individual effect that it is hard to imagine these faces coming into
being without the use of models. It seems reasonable to suspect in the couple a
portrait of Titus and his bride, Magdalena van Loo. Through its portrait
character, the archetypal scene with the intimate couple takes on the binding
force of an individual meeting.
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Isaac and Rebecca, with Abimelech Eavesdropping
1656
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The picture shows no external actions - not as movement. However, the posture of
quiet duration involves a union in the embracing, touching gesture, a continuing
activeness in the feeling of giving and receiving, in the growing awareness of a
sense of togetherness. This activeness cannot contradict the quiet and static
nature of the picture. Rather, quiet is the important condition here for
experiencing the kind of incident revealed in this scene.
The description of the scene from Susanna and the Elders was concerned with the
question of the effect upon the observer of the lines, which introduce him to
the process of comprehending the picture. No such consistent graphic context or
independent lineament is present in The Jewish Bride. Indeed, identifiable lines
may be seen only in parts of the middle zone. It is only the contours of the
faces, hands and arms, together with the bands making up the border at the
breast, which are defined by clear lines. However, the extent of
these is not great. The clarity of the contours decreases to both
sides of the group. Even the vertical lines in the wall of the well
masonry, or the horizontal line at lower right, which could
represent a stone bench, emerge merely as a narrow boundary zone
between areas of differing brightness, and not as clear contours.
(In examining the effect of the reproduction, it should be borne in
mind that reduction has taken place.) If one pictures what is
contained in the picture in the reverse direction, starting from the
periphery and moving towards the centre, then an increasing clarity
may be noted running along the contour of Isaac's cloak as it rises
from left to right. However, the clarity of the lines remains
relative, even in the central area of the picture; even in the case
of the details mentioned above, they remain soft, transitory, merely
somewhat denser than those widening out into the surrounding area
and dissolving. The lines appear not as a structural means of its
own but as the result of more or less distinct transitions within
the coloured bright-dark area. They are clearest where the bright
and dark zones present their greatest contrast. If the observer's
gaze follows them from the periphery in an inwards direction, then
they are perceived to thicken; seen from the inside moving outwards,
they reveal a tendency to dissolve. In the same way that total
delimitation is not found in the centre, however, total dissolution
does not take place in the outer area. The observer's gaze is kept
floating, and experiences - depending on the direction in which it
moves - the tendencies of objects to become clearer or less
differentiated, more concentrated or more diffused, to take on and
lose form, as they merge with one another in smooth transformation.
An important element will be touched upon here but fleetingly: it is
only when the central zone is covered up that one fully appreciates
the intangible nature of objects in the surrounding area - it is no
longer possible to give a concrete interpretation to anything, as
far as the frame. Here, too, however, the effect of transference is
at work, as observed earlier in the example of the shadow thrown by
Captain Banning Cocq's hand in The Night Watch: one
convincing detail causes the imagination to believe that it has seen
the object at another place also, one where visual clues are
lacking. From an objective point of view, it is impossible for a
couple to stand or sit in the manner portrayed in the picture;
similarly, no real lighting situation could result in such
illumination. Nevertheless, the softness of the lines still gives a
concrete impression inasmuch as it is understood as an atmospheric
spatial effect — as seen earlier in The Staalmeesters.
However, this exceeds every empirical comparison - with consequences
that will be seen.
The observer's gaze is pushed in a certain direction and led in
certain directions, not by individual lines, but rather by the
broad, bright surface lengths of the couple's arms and hands, the
contours of which could be seen as represented by the lines.
Furthermore, attention should be drawn to the extent to which the
rather isolated bright ovals constituting the faces tend to draw the
observer's gaze and capture it, so that a faint resistance may
become noticeable when the gaze is transferred from them in order to
take in another surface element or follow the "lengths" described
above. Two observations among many stand out here, which in turn
simultaneously indicate the very individual structure of this
picture's effect.
It has already been noted that the ovals of the couple's faces,
among the brightest individual elements, draw and hold the
observer's gaze. However, this can apply to only one of these
elements at a time. If one attempts to keep one's eyes on one of the
heads for a longer period of time, then it becomes noticeable that
the force of attraction exerted by the other increases. The forms
lie too closely together for the one to be seen apart from the
other. If one accepts the attraction of the second oval, then a kind
of jump occurs over the dark zone between the two faces - one of the
darkest in the whole picture - the power of which to hold the
observer's gaze is far less than that of the oval shapes. And for
the twinkling of an eye - in the truest sense of the word - the
effect of the first oval reasserts itself, so as to stimulate the
eye into making the jump back again. This interaction is weak,
taking place neither rapidly nor with a rhythm that can be grasped.
It may be compared with a musical interval: if one attempts to
listen to one of the tones more clearly, then the other pervades the
consciousness all the more. The individual quality of the interval
lies between the two, however — inaudible, yet in some way audible
after all. The same is true of the picture: the relationship between
the two bright ovals, perceived differentially in this way, lies in
the quality of the movement between them — simultaneously visible
and invisible.
However, the brightness of the faces is bound up with the other
bright forms to be found beneath them, so that the faces can each
become the starting-and end-point of a movement of observation, one
which - seen from left to right - leads over Isaac's shoulder and
arm to Rebecca's breast, travelling from there, over the border at
her breast and the bright neckline, upwards to her head. The
approximately circular form that is passed through here does not
close at the top between their heads; the observer's gaze is
prompted to retrace its course, so as to take the same path once
again. In contrast to the first observation, however, the gaze now
takes in everything on and adjoining its path, and the possibility
now exists for it of deviating from this course and climbing over
Rebecca's hand as she has placed it on her breast to her right
shoulder, thereafter gliding back down to the hands again along her
right sleeve; from here, following this direction, it continues over
the breast border until Isaac's right shoulder is reached, from
whence the gaze flows back along the band of his cloak-fastening
into the length of his arm; and so forth. The gaze's direction can
join a pattern in the form of a reclining figure-eight, although
this form is in no way a conclusively closed one.
If the observer's gaze moves in the direction outlined above, then
it renders clearly visible the possible relationships among the
individual visual elements in the picture. In this process, the
movement of the gaze itself takes on the character of these
relationships. The observational movements must be carried out by
the observer, and are in this sense a subjective action. However,
they take their form from the objective actuality of the visual
elements within the picture. Subjective movement and objective shape
penetrate each other, becoming a dynamic form. The picture
thus speaks through the dynamic form executed by the observer. What
precisely is spoken — if this is to be put into words, a different
starting-point must be taken. The visual nuances indicated here
would be misunderstood if one attempted to make them speak in all
their variety and interrelationships. The character of the visual
relationships in The Jeuish Bride can
only be alluded to via the interdependence between unity and
duality: the duality of the faces asserts itself in the previously
described interdependent dynamic forms of the observer's gaze
between the bright fields of this otherwise so unified double
figure. In the case of the sequence of movements reminiscent of a
reclining figure-eight, it is those tendencies interlinking the
duality of the figures to form a unity which predominate. The purely
visual dynamic forms noted here reveal themselves to be the occasion
for the immediate manifestation of an inner structure, one
consisting of the flowing together of two individuals and a two-ness
in unity. It is through the process of observation that the living
dynamic form of two who love each other takes place, the innermost
and spontaneous expression of which is their embrace.
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The Jewish Bride (detail)
c. 1665
Oil on canvas
Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam
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The strength of this picture, the factor responsible for its
effect, may ultimately be seen in the colours themselves. The red
colour-tone of Rebecca's dress - one example of the effects
generally achieved through colour - is unusually strongly broken,
interspersed with dark brown - almost black - particles, but also
partially brightened through the use of yellow, and also of white in
some places. The fine, varnished texture, partly opaque in nature,
partly shimmering through, reveals brush- and spatula-marks. When
seen from a few paces away, this weave of colour merges before the
observer's gaze, albeit without becoming completely uniform. From an
objective point of view, the dark and bright parts could be
interpreted as the play of light and shade among the fall of the
folds of Rebecca's dress, and as the heaviness and softness of the
material - as with velvet, for example, which does not fall smoothly
and either shimmers in the light or allows one's gaze to sink
somewhat into its surface. An objective interpretation must also
take into account the effect described in the context of The
Staalmeesters, that of the interplay of colours against a
common shade of gold-brown, an effect caused by a brightened gloom
between the objects and the eye. If this gloom were not also seen,
the colour-tone would lead one to the superficial opinion that the
dress appeared dirty or even decaying. The opposite is true,
however: it creates a warm, velvet impression, as if glowing from
within. This reddish tone is perceived, without one necessarily
needing to be conscious of the fact, as if it were influenced by the
three aforementioned factors - illumination, dress material,
atmospheric gloom. A tacit assumption here is that the red of the
dress material is uniform and - especially - that it is a property
of this fabric. It is in this certainty, one that is not further
called into question, that the fundamental agreement of depictive
observation lies. This internalized bias implies that cause and
effect in the relationship of colour and depicted object are
reversed when one observes a depiction. The velvet dress, its
illumination, and the visible atmosphere - none of these are
themselves actually present in the picture; in consequence, none of
them can be vehicles for the quality labelled "red". It is the red
quality present in the picture — acting in combination with the
other structural elements - that prompts the imagination to
recognize the aforementioned objectivity. It is this red quality,
exactly as it stands here before the observer's eyes and in no other
way, that constitutes the vehicle that conveys to the imagination
the concepts of dress, material, atmosphere, light. These properties
reveal themselves in the representation as vehicles for the depicted
object.
The establishment of this point may seem trivial. This, however,
represents the starting point for the more complex question as to
how it is at all possible to understand the true nature and quality
of the colour here. Even if one disregards the question of reference
to an object, then the colour still seems to have changed: when
looked at from a distance, it can appear blotchy and nondescript. If
one opens oneself up to the colour, however, then one perceives its
shade as a pure, warm red glowing from within. In theory, it is
impossible for a colour to manifest itself in a different way to its
actual appearance: otherwise, we would be dealing with another
colour. How can the impression emerge of this particular and
consistent hue of colour? The shade of red which the observer sees
as "the" red of the dress is not to be found in the pigment applied
to the picture's surface — not even in small areas. This shade is
seen, yet it does not exist. If a search is made in the colour
structure for material evidence of this shade, then it vanishes in
an indescribable variety of different nuances. In the course of this
attempt to find it, the eye is struck by all those colours which
differ from red — white, golden yellow, golden brown, dark brown,
black — without the red disappearing completely. However, it is also
possible at any time to discern the previously comprehended
uniformity of the shade of red again. Nonetheless, this uniformity
does not achieve an exposed, opaque red surface. Even when the red
appears to glow from within, this is merely an approximation. The
impression remains unstable. At any moment it can weaken, only to
become stronger again a moment thereafter. As was mentioned above,
the lines can be seen only as a system of qualified delimitation or
dissolution, floating in a state between acquiring and losing form.
It has now been seen that this is equally true of the colour in this
picture. It must be comprehended not as a continued existence, one
defined thus and in no other way, but rather as a tendency within
the red effect towards or away from red, in a flowing, open
intermediate state between concentration and diffusion, growing
alternately brighter and darker, becoming present and withdrawing:
in brief, a state between appearing and disappearing.
The consequence of this is that the visual effects of the picture's
surface are perceived as something undergoing a process, one which
is not fundamentally different from the movement perceived as the
content of the picture.
In this way, the quality of appearance of the colour itself comes to
play a role in the event, as the present effectiveness of light in
colour. Light itself cannot be seen. Its effect can only be
understood from the dynamics of colour. Light, as has been observed
above, must be effective and active if it is to become a phenomenon.
The same was said at the outset of these remarks regarding the
actions of the figures. The effect of colour in the picture is
revealed as the naturally invisible inner event: the warm,
enveloping colours, together with their silent glow, seemingly
intensifying from within, can display the same quality of feeling,
in the form of a visual impression, as that which inwardly binds
together the two who love each other. If such words had not already
been used, one could speak here of a glowing quality, of the
appearance of something which has no effect upon the senses in a
sensory experience. However, it is not claimed here that something
is felt in either one particular way or another; rather, the view is
advanced that such nuances of feeling are opened up through this
kind of painting, not as a result of intellectual conclusions based
upon that which the scene portrayed in a picture communicates, but
rather through the process of observation itself.
If one accepts that effects, in the manner characterized here, are
the chances of a picture, however, then the term "picture" can no
longer be taken to mean only the object hanging on the wall, the
merely sensory creation of colour and form before the observer's
eyes. There would be as little sense in saying of this creation that
it was changing or in motion as there would be in expecting a
depicted movement to take place within it. The observable effect of
the colours and forms only occurs and appears when the observer
mobilizes his powers of observation and reason and enters into the
game of possibilities offered by the work of art. This requires him
to grasp the work of art, both with respect to its individual
elements and in its entirety, and to combine them in accordance with
the rules given by the picture. It is only in the light of such a
conception of the picture's reality that there can be any sense in
speaking of the appearance, the process of events, the temporal
quality of a painted picture, for without the observer this process
will be impossible, in the same way that it is impossible in the
absence of this particular work of art. The creation supplies the
structure. It is given life in the act of observation, thereby — and
only thereby — coming into existence.
As a result of his structural conception, Rembrandt allocates the
observer a particular role, utilizing the later structural
conception of The Staalmeesters to enable the
observer, if he understands the context of the scene, to see himself
as involved in the depicted process. This applies not only to that
which may be understood from the picture but also to that which can
be seen within it. Through Rembrandt's style of painting, the
observer is assigned a constitutive role. In this manner of
painting, one which causes the observer to appreciate the act of
revelation instead of merely presenting him with a revealed form to
look at, it is largely left to the discretion of the observer as to
what he recognizes in the picture, since the aforementioned
processes of observation are generally dependent upon his activating
them. If he does not open himself up to these processes, then they
will not become evident to him. The consequence will be that these
pictures simply appear unfinished - the more so, the later their
date of origin - for it is precisely in their leading the observer
into a never-ending process of revelation that their completion
lies. Nowadays, at the end of the 20th century, following the
concrete experience of Modernist pictures, this never-ending quality
of Rembrandt's art can make one conscious of the open, nascent,
creative element present in the act of observation itself. The
process of becoming aware of life in the picture, the process of
becoming aware of the act of revelation, is an encounter with the
productive powers of one's own observation. It is in the action of
observation that the mystery of the revealed form lies to which we
are led by Rembrandt's art.
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The Holy Family with a Curtain
1646
Oil on wood, 46,5 x 69 cm
Staatliche Museen, Kassel
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The Holy Family with Angels
1645
Oil on canvas, 117 x 91 cm
The Hermitage, St. Petersburg
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The Holy Family
1630s
Oil on canvas, 183 x 123 cm
Alte Pinakothek, Munich
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Holy Family
1640
Oil on wood, 41 x 34 cm
Musee du Louvre, Paris
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Family Group
1666-68
Oil on canvaas, 126 x 167
Herzog Anton Ulrich-Museum, Braunschweig
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Titus
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Titus
1655
Oil on canvas, 77 x 63 cm
Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen, Rotterdam
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The Artist's Son Titus
1657
Oil on canvas, 68,5 x 57 cm
Wallace Collection, London
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Titus Reading
1656
Oil on canvas, 70,5 x 64 cm
Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna
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The Artist's Son Titus
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Titus en habito de monje
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