Palettes in Reproductions – Rembrandt

What do we see when we look at our screens?

 

 

 

 Rembrandt van Rijn (1606-1669), De roof van Proserpina,ca. 1632, oil-paint on panel,
84,5 x 79,9 cm., Staatliche Museen, Gemäldegalerie, Berlin.

The above are three images, of many more, that pop up in my browser when searching for Rembrandt’s Proserpina.

Their differences are huge and what makes it even more confusing is the strong blue in the lower image. 
So which one of these three images represents the original painting? The palette used in it’s creation? How to choose? 
Unlike Vermeer, Rembrandt is not known for an abundant use of blue pigments. The blue sky is probably a mistake and the image can be discarded.

Picturing Rembrandt’s body of work, we see brown as the leading colour, followed by reds and yellows. 

In pigments this would be:
red & yellow earth (ochre and sienna)
umber (burnt & raw)
black (ivory, lamp, bone)
vermillion
lead tin yellow
lead white
madder & other red lakes

A palette that dominated painted art from the 16th up to the 18th century.

Following this reasoning, one of the two other  images should be the one resembling the original.

The middle one shows the familiar warm browns, but is extremely yellow. Even with many layers of an oily varnish, it’s unlikely this would be the result. 

Leaves us with the top image. Yes, this one certainly has it’s points. The brown hues and the subtle grey of the sky, both part of a convincing 17th century old master’s palette. It  brings to mind other landscapes painted by Rembrandt.

 

 

Rembrandt, Landscape with a stone bridge, ca. 1638, oil-paint on panel, 29.5 x 42.5 cm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam.

A landscape like this one with the stone bridge, which I have seen many times in the museum. I have always been impressed how it appears to have been painted with ease , the beautiful umbers and browns and the golden light. The efficient use of middle-tones, creating deep and lively shades.
This painting has been my reference point for landscape painting by Rembrandt.
It still was when I visited Berlin and the Gemaeldegalerie.
I was not prepared for the confrontation with a  brighter, apparently different palette.
When I saw the Proserpina painting  on the wall in the museum, I had to read the attribution twice to be convinced it really was a Rembrandt.
The painting in situ in Berlin, daylight conditions. Photo monica rotgans

Like his colleagues, Rembrandt did use strong blues and greens, but most of these pigments  have turned brown or disappeared. However, in this particular painting the blue is still as stunning and overpowering as it was when it was painted, which sets it apart from his other works.

According to the colour-temperature the blue is probably made from lapis lazuli, natural ultramarine (I haven’t read the conservationist’s report yet) and it shines. Applying the extremely expensive natural ultramarine had to be done with care. The use of a non-oily binder is the reason why it still stands out in it’s bright hues.

The sky was originally in harmony with the greens of the full green foliage, and the strong colouring of the clothing of the main characters: reds, purples, blue (other), violet, and yellow. However, the greens based on copper-pigments and a warm lake yellow, have fallen away, as have the purples and reds, and the other, cheaper blues.

What we see is what time has left us of the original palette, helped along by the instability of some of the pigments and the negative effect of an abundant use of oils.
This detail shows clearly the loss of greens, purples, and blue.

 

The conclusion is that of the three images presented the lower one is the closest to the original. Also brown pigments were not the dominating colour in Dutch baroque painting, but the instability of pigments, the ageing of oils, in combination with layers of yellowed varnishes, have for a long time clouded our view and set the standard.

Fortunately, the revolution in conservation science enables us to be more aware of how art-works were originally intended, to recreate their colour-schemes in our mind when looking at painted art. Both in old and modern art.

The abundance and availability of (digital) images and reproductions are no guarantee, as long as there is no international standard or reference checkpoint, for a better understanding of the painter’s materials.

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The Paint under our Feet

 RED

Ochre Point Soth Australia, where land meets the ocean

Standing on reds, yellows, whites, and purple by simply taking a walk, effectively walking on pigments, is a strange experience for someone like me; I was raised in Holland, a rather colourless country below sea-level, dominated by the greys of clay and clouds.
Other countries offer quite a different palette, full of flamboyant oxides in a range of hues from deep red to brilliant yellow.
Colours which are the Cradle of Art.

The colours of the earth were the first pigments handled by humans to recreate and create. Recreating the game they hunted and creating symbols which still hold their hidden meanings from us. The impressive wisents, wild horses and sheep, lions, rhinos and even elephants in the prehistoric European paintings we know today, were painted with the effective limited palette based on earth-pigments. It is a palette uniting mankind. 

http://www.abc.net.au/science/articles/2014/10/09/4102672.htm

http://archeologie.culture.fr/chauvet/frThe hand stencils depicted here were found on three different continents: Europe, America and Asia. The oldest have been created around 40.000 years ago. They are evidence of the creative drive of the oldest of what we call humankind. Some may even have been made by Neanderthals, as more scientists are now willing to conclude. 
These images were all made using the same technique: by spitting a mouthful of a watery mix with red earth over the hand. The oldest form of spray-painting. 

The dominant role of red in all of them is no coincidence, and is not connected to an abundance of the pigment in the surroundings of the caves. Red was, and still is in some ways, synonymous to blood, to life. A sacred colour connecting man with ancestors and the after-life.

Blood varies in colour. Fresh blood coming directly  from the body, is a light red, bubbling with energy. Dead blood is dark, almost black, and in thin layers brown. 
Red ochres come in a richer variety of hues: from a light pink, to a full tomato red, a shy brown, and modest violet. 
The pigment-box below is a collection of ochres  (and at the right some charcoal) which I gathered on the Fleurieu Peninsula in South Australia, complemented with one warm Outback ochre (centre).

 Paint, the Story of Art

Despite this range of hues, the reds commonly used in prehistoric painting are of a similar tone, a strong, often bright, red earth.
Research on the reds in various caves showed they were rarely locally found, but brought in from specific, often distant deposits. Hues which must therefore have had a special, symbolic function in the palette used to decorate the caves and sacred objects. 

The tradition of selecting  pigments for their specific colour and attributing a symbolic meaning to them, is universal. In this case of red earth, the seemingly archaic tradition has survived unchanged into 21st-century Australia. 
For more then 40.000 years the Australian Aborigines have been mining ochre deposits such as those of Wilga Mia, ochres of a particularly high quality. High quality meaning a strong, brilliant red, distinctly different from the red earth covering most of the continent.  
Ochres, red and yellow, were and are a vital ingredient in Aboriginal religious practices. The higher the quality of the red earth, the greater the distance it was traded. The mining of the quarries was restricted to a small group of experts of the tribe on whose land the ochres were found.
Red earth was traded with other clans and transported over distances of more then a 1500 kilometres to serve in rituals and to be transformed into paint.
 

Ochre Cliffs, SA. an ancient and deserted aboriginal ochre quarry

Unfortunately the aggressive attitude of modern man’s mining companies has little respect for ancient traditions. During the last two centuries many of these prehistoric quarries have been mutilated to extract the ochres and accompanying minerals like copper and gold in large quantities for commercial and industrial purposes. 
The majority of historical pigments used by humans, share a similar history of mining and long-distance transports. With a growing demand, and loss of ancient symbolic values, the impact of mining on the environment has become, and remains, enormous. 
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