Detroit— In the mid-17th century, Rembrandt van Rijn (1606-69) began portraying Christ as no other European painter had done – as a Jew.
In doing so, the Dutch painter broke with what had been the general practices of other European painters, who had either modeled their portrayals of Christ on sculptures of suffering figures from pre-Christian times or on their own people’s contemporary concept of an idealized male figure.
For Rembrandt, who appears to have been very familiar with Scripture, the choice may have been a matter of portraying Jesus with greater realism, but the decision resulted in images of Christ that are “more humane, compassionate and approachable,” says the man who launched the effort to bring the Dutch master’s Jesus paintings together into one exhibition.
George Keyes, now retired, began the negotiations that resulted in the forthcoming “Rembrandt and the Face of Jesus” exhibit when he was chief curator of the Detroit Institute of Arts and chair of the museum’s European Art department.
Keyes (rhymes with “eyes”) had secured the cooperation of the Musee de Louvre inParisand the Philadelphia Art Museum for the project before retiring from the DIA at the end of 2008.
The exhibit opened at the Louvre this past spring, moved to Philadelphiain the summer, and will run from Nov. 20 through Feb. 12 inDetroit.
The cooperation of the Louvre was essential to the project, Keyes explains, because the “Head of Jesus” attributed to Rembrandt in the DIA’s collection is thought to be a study for the depiction of Christ in “The Supper at Emmaus,” one of his most famous paintings, which hangs in the Parisian museum.
The DIA’s painting is one of about seven known heads of Christ attributed to Rembrandt or his studio, another being in the Philadelphia Museum. But, as the exhibit developed, museums in London, Berlin, New York and Fort Worth, Texas, also agreed to lend paintings from their collections, as did several private collectors on both sides of theAtlantic.
Among other notable works in the exhibit are “Christ and the Woman Taken in Adultery, on loan from The National Gallery in London, and “Christ Preaching Bring the Little Children unto Me,” commonly known as “The Hundred Guilder Print,” from New York’s Metropolitan Museum.
Many European painters had depicted Christ in agony, trying to convey “a deep sense of emotional pathos,” Keyes explains. The preeminent model for these painters was the large sculpture group, “Laocoon and His Sons,” dating from perhaps as early as the third century B.C. and dug up at Rome in 1506 A.D.
The famous sculpture group, which is in the Vatican’s collection, depicts the death of the Trojan priest Laocoon, whose unheeded advice to the Trojans against bringing the great wooden horse inside their gates has come down to us as “Beware of Greeks bearing gifts.”
“It was a source of inspiration all through the Renaissance and Baroque era, to such artists as Raphael, Michelangelo, Peter Paul Rubens, Caravaggio and Guido Reni,” Keyes says.
Many other artists would depict Jesus as if he had been a countryman of theirs – German, Italian, etc. While a blond Northern European Jesus might strike us as a bit unusual today, it is really just an earlier manifestation of the same impulse that results in Him being depicted today as a African or East Asian man.
The late Jaroslav Pelikan once said of this tradition, “If Christ is supposed to be our brother, it seems only right that he should look like us.”
Rembrandt, or at least a member of his studio, also produced some paintings of Christ in this tradition, such as his “Christ with a Staff,” on loan to the exhibit from New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art.
But Rembrandt’s depictions of Christ as a Jew were so different from what other artists were doing as to be at a “polar opposite,” Keyes says.
“Rembrandt was steeped in the Bible, and was an artist who wanted to represent his religious subjects in as accurate a context as he could evoke,” he continues.
And the Amsterdam of Rembrandt’s day was an excellent place to find Jewish models. The city had welcomed Jewish refugees from oppression elsewhere, and although Jews were not legally restricted to a ghetto as they were in Venice of Frankfurt, they had nevertheless largely gravitated to one area of the city. Rembrandt’s studio (now a museum) was situated on Jodenbreestraat, what amounted to the area’s Main Street.
But attributing motives to Rembrandt, as to just why he did what he did, is really only a matter of speculation, says Salvador Salort-Pons, the DIA’s current associate curator for European paintings.
“We don’t know, and we don’t even know anything about his religious beliefs,” he says.
Neither is it known who commissioned the works or what purpose, but since the Calvinists were in charge in theHollandat of Rembrandt’s time, Salort-Pons says it is likely his clients were private individuals who wanted the paintings for their own private devotions.
Rembrandt’s innovative use of a Jewish model for his portrays of Christ did not in any way revolutionize European art, however. With the exception of the not-very-well-known German artist Johann Ulrich Mayr (1630-1704), Salort-Pons says he could not think of anyone else who carried on the tradition.
Rembrandt’s approach would, however, be taken up again in the 19th century, says Keyes, citing the work of painters associated with theFrenchAcademy.
While Rembrandt did not leave notebooks or journals that outlined his religious beliefs, Keyes believes much can be discerned from what he did leave – his paintings.
In fact, Keyes will be returning to Detroit from his retirement home in Maine to deliver a lecture, entitled “Rembrandt the Evangelist,” on the opening day of the exhibit.
“It’s a journey, an investigation others can easily follow,” he says.
