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.

7Colours Project                                                                                                               M-Classes

Van Gogh Blues


http://www.monicarotgans.nl/coaching/

Imagine….a world without blue pigments. Not just blue paints but also dyes, the colourants for textiles and leather, inks and plastics. Leaving the sky above our heads as the only large blue surface in sight, in summer accompanied by the short-lived flowers of fields and mountains.
For thousands of years this was the actual situation.
Strong, warm and bright blue pigments were rare, with lapis lazuli as the ultimate, most revered and exclusive exception.
A painting like Van Gogh’s Dr Gachet from 1890, with its abundant use of blue and red, would have been a phenomenon. Displaying colours and pigments normally reserved for the religious and worldly elite.

The 19th century was an exceptional age having an unprecedented effect on the use and possibilities of colour and paint with France, and in particular Paris, as the driving forces.
Napoleon’s hunger for territory and power resulted in almost endless processions from every corner of the new Empire to it’s capital, Paris, transporting artworks to what later would become the Musée du Louvre.

Napoleon is considering an Egyptian mummy for his collections, ca. 1800.

This art-flood had it’s consequences. Many art-works were damaged during the often long transports and needed restoration before being displayed. To this purpose the French government installed in 1794 a Conservatoire du Muséum des Arts. The demand for historic and rare blue pigments, like lapis lazuli and azurite, gave birth to the development of new pigments that changed the painters palette and finally brought an end to the scarcity of bright blue paints.

Cobalt-blue was developed by Thénard around 1802, followed by ultramarine, the long sought for replacement of lapis lazuli, in 1828 by Guimet.

Cobalt-blue was and still is relatively expensive (cheap cobalt is not the real thing!), but ultramarine turned out to be a rather economic pigment. The cheapest varieties were used as whiteners for laundry, of which Reckitt’s Blue is one of the best known. The latter is an ideal substitute for painters lacking resources to buy proper pigments, like the young Van Gogh, who even used coffee grounds to make his brown paints. 

Van Gogh ‘The poor and the money’, 1882, mixed media on paper

Van Gogh considered cobalt-blue to be une couleur divine, a divine colour, ideal for suggesting space in the restricted two-dimensions of a canvas. The portrait of Dr. Gachet is a beautiful example of his love for an abundant use of cobalt, indirectly made possible thanks to the expeditions of Napoleon.

Le Docteur Paul Gachet, 1890, 68 x 57 cm, Musée d’Orsay, Paris
monicaR all rights reserved
Lectures on Colour & Paint                                                                                        Masterclasses


 

Paint & Pixels, the battle

Discolouration and the Public Eye

 

Nicolas Poussin (1594-1665) The finding of Moses, 1651, 116 x 175 cm.,
oil on canvas, National Gallery, London.                 Photo by author

An idyllic representation of the finding of baby Moses by the daughter of the Egyptian Pharaoh. It’s Poussin’s third and last version of the topic, and a painting displaying an abundant use of exclusive pigments, especially the warm blue of natural ultramarine (from lapis lazuli). A rare blue,for many centuries more sought after and more valued than gold. It’s specific colour-temperature in combination with the special way it has to be applied in oil-painting, makes it stand out even more than was intended by the painter.
Poussin would not be pleased at all seeing his work in its present state, with the isolated red, yellow and blues, dominating and dis-balancing the composition.
One of the main colours that went missing is green: the warm, vibrant greens. We see some greenish foliage and a cool blueish green in some of the women’s clothing, they are too cool and too weak to stand their ground. The cause is discolouration. A combination of fading yellow lakes and the browning of copper-greens such as verdigris.
Until the 19th century the painter’s palette was limited to greens that were made by mixing blues and yellows, or the cool, blueish copper-greens (including malachite). These could be turned into warm greens using yellow lakes. Simple, bright, and warm green pigments were unavailable until the 19th century.
The result of the then available limited palette and the tricks of paint, is a not very attractive, unharmonious painting.

However, this problem may be more or less solved by reproducing the painting in pixels or prints.

The Poussin on the website of the National Gallery

To achieve an optical balance, the image on the website of the National Gallery has been markedly darkened, reducing its contrast and brightness. The difference between my photo taken in the museum, and the image from the website, is more than remarkable.
This demonstrates one of the many problems we are confronted with when looking at a painting in reproduction, whether it be in pixels or print.

We may conclude that a confrontation with a real work of art can never be replicated by viewing a reproduction, regardless of the medium.

monicaR all rights reserved

Lectures on Colour & Paint                                                                                               Masterclasses

 

Indigo

 

P.P. Rubens, Desecend of the Cross, oil on panel, 209 x 148 cm., Antwerp Cathedral.

When Rubens painted this large altar-piece in the beginning of the 17th-century, he was using the same blue pigment as his colleagues in Asia and South-America: dried indigo, mixed with a binder. 
Antwerp, Rubens’ home-town, was at the time one of the main-ports in the booming global trade between Eurasia and the America’s. Transshipping anything from spices to gems, from delicate textiles to commodities. The unique position of Antwerp enabled Rubens to use a new, powerful, dark-blue pigment, shipped from today’s Mexico to Europe: indigo. 
Indigo is a cool, blackish blue, which accounts for the rather gloomy appearance of the triptych. Despite the disadvantage of a cool colour-temperature, it became a welcome substitute for the costly lazurite (ultramarine) from lapis lazuli, frequently unobtainable for painters outside Asia. This precious and heavenly stone  was mined in the Afghan mountains of the Hindu Kush, due to  grimm weather conditions only accessible in summer.

 Bonampak, Maya-mural, ca. 650, with Maya-blue, made of indigo and polygorskite. 

Nowadays we know indigo mainly from the multicultural ‘jeans’. Originally a sturdy working outfit for Californian miners, now a globally accepted uni-sex piece of clothing.

www.monicarotgans.nl/lectures
The oldest surviving pair of jeans, a Levi’s from ca. 1890. Indigo-dyed cotton.

monicaR 2015 all rights reserved