The Art of Facing Mortality

For the loves of my life : Fransje, Judith, Leah and Keziah

Jaap Goudsmit

The Art of Facing Mortality

Lecturis

In memory of Jacqueline van Tongeren (1949-2014) and Joep Lange (1954-2014), who were killed on July 17, 2014.

The distance that the dead have gone Does not at first appear ; Their coming back seems possible For many an ardent year.

And then, that we have followed them We more than half suspect, So intimate have we become With their dear retrospect.

Emily Dickinson

Contents

Prologue

Good Use of One’s Lifetime 7 Trompe l’oeil. The Reverse of a Framed Painting : a catalogue of imaginary fronts 12

i ii

Mortality Denied 41 Impression of a Lifetime 45

iii

Cause of Death 49

iv

Dislike of Death 53

v vi vii viii

Memento Mori 57 The Afterlife 61 Foreshortened Perspective 67 Dissection 71

ix

Where to look 75

x

Know Thyself 81

xi xii

Looking in the Mirror 85 Vainglory 89

xiii

Game Change 93

xiv

Fecundity 97

xv

Bareness 101

xvi xvii Epilogue

Nothingness 105 Satisfaction in Life 109 Facing Mortality Somewhat 115 Acknowledgements 120 Inspiration and References 122

Prologue

Good Use of One’s Lifetime At any given time, with hindsight, it may be concluded that the limited time allotted to us was either used well or was wasted. One may have ended up as a lifetime drug user or a lifetime achiever.

At what point did the journey take a particular direction or where did one reach a fork in the road and who decides what is time used well ?

What does a life well spent actually mean ?

Does one need success, monetary or otherwise ?

Or can one be content without any of that, just enjoying every day as it comes ?

7

Good Use of One’s Lifetime

The first time I saw Trompe l’oeil. The Reverse of a Framed Painting by the Flemish artist Cornelius Norbertus Gijsbrechts, it was as though I had been struck by lightning.

It was painted somewhere around 1670 and looked like a cross-over between the works of Dadaists like Marcel Duchamp, Man Ray or Kurt Schwitters and works of the Color Field painters like Mark Rothko, Helen Frankenthaler or Barnett Newman.

It certainly did not resemble anything else produced in the 17th century.

The painting is surprising in many ways; first, because it is without context. In a picture of an artist’s studio one would expect that any finished work, work in progress, or work not yet started, would be placed against the wall with its back to the viewer.

That would be the 17th century context, which is missing from this work.

The mystery is what is at the front of the painting. If it were a proper trompe l’oeil then, by definition, when turned around, the reverse would show the actual back of the painting. However, there is reason to believe that is not what the artist wanted to show us. The key lies in the small number 36 painted on the prepared canvas and attached by a red wax seal; it represents a collector’s number from his or her catalogue. This suggests that one should expect to see a finished painting on the other side, particularly because it is framed. But what?

The easiest thing to imagine is an image of an empty prepared canvas, the image of nothing, the image of naivety. Gijsbrechts was a painter of ‘vanitas’ images, so one could expect to find a still life reflecting the meaninglessness of earthly life and the transient nature of all earthly pursuits. In other words, the front of this imaginary work could be a painting reminding us of our mortality.

Over the years I have tried to find an answer to the question: what did Gijsbrechts want us to imagine on the reverse side of this incredible painting? And I have come to the conclusion that it must be the face of mortality, reflected in nothingness as well as in ‘somethingness’: which can hardly be depicted in any other way than to conceal it in a trompe l’oeil. The reverse side of the painting is about the lifetime we each have: the time we live in the shadow of our mortality. Gijsbrechts’ painting, and hence this book, is about the voyage of discovery we call life, which is defined by its inescapable end that must occur at some point in time.

8

Good Use of One’s Lifetime

The ‘reverse side’ stands for the back of the painting of life: the realization that with age, death becomes more imminent. In 1953 Kurt Vonnegut wrote a short story titled ‘Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow’, set in the future (2158 AD) after a drug has been invented that prevents people from dying of old age. Immortality is everywhere, but people look like (barely) living corpses. Enjoyment and happiness are nowhere to be found.

The Vonnegut story was inspired by Macbeth’s final soliloquy in the play of the same name by William Shakespeare (Act 5, scene 5), after the Scottish King has been told of his wife’s death:

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day To the last syllable of recorded time, And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!

Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player That struts and frets his hour upon the stage And then is heard no more: it is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury Signifying nothing.

Shakespeare makes us realize that life is finite and meaningless (in the end?).

However, one wonders whether it is equally meaningless at birth, in youth, or when Lady Macbeth has still to appear on stage and her death has not yet been announced

by Seyton – ‘The queen, my lord, is dead’ – and reflected upon by Macbeth: ‘She should have died hereafter. There would have been a time for such a word.’

Every man moves, quickly or slowly, awake or asleep, towards the inescapable moment of death. Yet nevertheless: somewhere during our time on earth we might at some point have a chance to give meaning to our lives.

At any given time, with hindsight, it may be concluded that the limited time allotted to us was either used well or was wasted. One may have ended up as a lifetime drug

9

Trompe l’oeil.

The Reverse of a Framed Painting: A catalogue of imaginary fronts

Cornelius Norbertus Gijsbrechts (c. 1610 - after 1675) Trompe l’oeil. The Reverse of a Framed Painting 1670, oil on canvas, 66 x 86.5 cm Statens Museum for Kunst, Copenhagen

See also : page

13

8

9

103

Andrea Mantegna (1430 / 31 - 1506) The Lamentation of Christ 1480, tempera on canvas, 68 x 81 cm Pinacoteca di Brera, Milan

See also : page

14

68

Annibale Carracci (1560 - 1609) The Corpse of Christ 1583 - 1585, oil on canvas, 70.7 x 88.8 cm Staatsgalerie Stuttgart

See also : page

15

68

Judith Leyster (1609 - 1660) The Last Drop (The Gay Cavalier) c. 1639, oil on canvas, 89.1 x 73.5 cm Philadelphia Museum of Art, Philadelphia

See also : page

22

72

110

Adriaen Backer (c. 1635 - 1684) The Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Frederick Ruysch 1670, oil on canvas, 168 x 244 cm Amsterdam Museum, Amsterdam

See also : page

23

77

Jacques de Claeuw (1623 - 1694) Vanitas Still Life 1679, oil on canvas, 52.5 x 64.5 cm Staatliche Kunsthalle, Karlsruhe

See also : page

36

9a8

Cornelius Norbertus Gijsbrechts (c. 1610 - after 1675) Trompe l’oeil with Studio Wall and Vanitas Still Life 1668, oil on canvas, 152 x 118 cm Statens Museum for Kunst, Copenhagen

See also : page

37

98

99

James Ensor (1860 - 1949) Skeleton Painter in His Studio oil on canvas, 80.7 x 70.5 cm Koninklijk Museum voor Schone Kunsten, Antwerp

See also : page

38

118

Cornelius Norbertus Gijsbrechts Trompe l’oeil. The Reverse of a Framed Painting photograph of the backside of the painting

39

VII

Foreshortened Perspective The shortened perspective confronts the viewer

as if you opened one of the refrigerators

The Lamentation of Christ, c. 1480

(detail p. 15)

The Corpse of Christ, 1583 - 1585

(detail p. 14)

(detail p. 17)

in a morgue, the feet coming out first.

Andrea Mantegna

The Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Deijman, 1656

of a loved and admired person ;

Annibale Carracci

Rembrandt Harmenszoon van Rijn

quite intrusively with the death

67

Foreshortened Perspective

In 1506, the sons of the artist Andrea Mantegna were surprised to find a previously unknown painting in his studio following his death. Although it had been painted twentyfive years earlier, they had never seen the work. It is usually called The Lamentation of Christ or The Dead Christ. The painting, currently in the Pinacoteca di Brera in Milan, Italy, portrays Christ’s dead body carefully laid out on a slab of marble with a cushion under his head. A white sheet of linen (or silk?) covers his legs and his clearly outlined genitals. His arms lie limply on the cloth. His breast is bare signifying that his body was wrapped in the cloth after removal from the cross. The eyes of the spectator are drawn to Christ’s covered genitals. According to Leo Steinberg, professor of drawing at the Parsons School of Design and the History of Art at Harvard University, this was the effect that the artist intended to achieve.

The focus on Christ’s genitals emphasizes the concept, common in the theology of the time, that Jesus Christ was a man of flesh and blood, a human like you and me. Christ’s body is shown in foreshortened perspective. This shortened perspective confronts the viewer quite intrusively with the death of a loved and admired person; as if you had opened one of the refrigerators in a morgue, the feet coming out first. Apparently Mantegna made the feet smaller than the perspective demanded, again to direct attention to Christ’s genitals. Christ’s skin is pale and livid, as in Walt Whitman’s poem ‘O Star of France’ (1870-71): ‘This cross, thy livid face, thy pierced hands and feet, the spear thrust in thy side.’

About one hundred years later, in 1583-85, Annibale Carracci painted a tribute to Andrea Mantegna, using the same subject, the corpse of Christ, in the same foreshortened perspective. The dead Christ is shown again, except that here the feet are proportionally correct and it is the right hand that draws all attention. There is no emphasis on the genitals and, in vivid contrast to the Mantegna painting, all the wounds on feet, hands and breast are bleeding, and the cloth is heavily bloodstained. In this image, the humanity of Christ is emphasized by the blood seeping from the inflicted wounds, and to stress this further, enlarged nails and a pincer are seen in the foreground.

In 1656 Rembrandt van Rijn created almost, but not quite the same image. The painting is called The Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Joan Deijman. In 1723 a fire seriously damaged the painting, so that only a part of it survives. What remains is the body of the criminal,

68

Foreshortened Perspective

Joris Fonteyn, who was hanged on January 27, 1656. The assistant is holding the top of Joris’s skull while Dr. Deijman’s hands dissect the brain of the corpse. The foreshortened perspective is similar to the Mantegna and Carracci paintings with some subtle changes. The posture resembles the Mantegna painting, and a white cloth is again draped over the legs and groin of the man. His intestines have been removed, as was customary at the start of an autopsy. Attention is drawn to the feet and face. The color of the body is livid and pale, in stark contrast with the assistant’s face and hand and also with Deijman’s hands, which are pink and covered with blood. The legs of the foreshortened perspective corpse lie flat on the dissecting table while the torso is slightly raised to position the skull and brain closer to Dr. Deijman’s hands and eyes when standing upright.

Where did Rembrandt get the idea to paint an anatomy lesson like that? Rembrandt had never visited Italy, so he would not have seen the Mantegna and Carracci paintings.

Of course he may have come across prints of foreshortened perspective; but I prefer another explanation. Rembrandt may have seen the painting by Hendrik Goltzius of 1609, entitled The Dying Adonis. Goltzius painted Adonis, god of beauty and desire, in foreshortened perspective with a small piece of cloth covering his genitals. Adonis appears to be still alive, bleeding from his groin. He lies in a field of grass. After Adonis died, so goes the story, his mother Aphrodite sprinkled nectar into the bleeding wound, from the depths of which grew the red anemone shown in the picture.

69

VIII

Dissection It is as though Death wants to tell them : ‘ If you guys continue drinking and smoking like that, your time will come sooner rather than later !

If you keep leading this thoughtless life of debauchery, I will come and get you.

It would be much wiser to lead a life of moderation and keep me away until a later time. ’ It is Death himself who is compelled to deliver this warning.

The Last Drop, c. 1639 (detail p. 22)

Judith Leyster

Death is therefore portrayed as the protector of life.

71

Dissection

The Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Joan Deijman is the second anatomy lesson that Rembrandt painted. The first one, in 1632, was the Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Nicolaes Tulp, who was Dr. Joan Deijman’s predecessor as ‘praelector anatomiae’ at the Amsterdam Guild of Surgeons. ‘Anatomies’, as these paintings are called, are typically considered to be ‘just’ group portraits of surgeons and anatomists posing as if performing a dissection on a dead human body.

Anatomy lessons are a specifically Dutch genre of group portrait that had its heyday in the 17th century. There appear to be two kinds of anatomy lessons, each with a distinct meaning. There are the ‘true’ group portraits of anatomists in the midst of doing their job, the best examples being the Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Willem van der Meer of Delft, painted in 1617 by Michiel and Pieter van Mierevelt, and the Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Willem Röell of Amsterdam, painted by Cornelis Troost in 1728 and considered to be the last one.

The first work by the father and son Mierevelt shows a corpse lying on the table of the anatomy theatre, surrounded by the usual attributes such as skeletons.

All spectators and dissectors are looking towards the artist as though they were looking into the lens of a camera. The body is completely lifeless. According to one of his sketches kept in Amsterdam’s Rijksmuseum, Cornelis Troost had intended to paint a similar scene. In the end Troost removed all references to an anatomy theatre, although the male adult body lies pale and livid on the table.

William Schupbach, the curator of iconography at the Wellcome Library in London, considers the Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Sebastiaen Egbertsz de Vrij, painted by Nicolaes Eliasz Pickenoy in 1619, as simply a group portrait within the context of an osteology lesson. This may be so, but one could also argue that the hand gesture of the person, seated to the right, holding up his open right hand without really pointing to the skeleton and with an expression of contemplation on his face, signifies that the picture holds a deeper meaning. It seems as though he is saying to us: ‘Look at us, aren’t we all mortal? Won’t we all eventually become skeletons?’

The skeleton not only reminds us of our own death, either individually or collectively, but it is the very personification of death. This is shown in the painting by Judith Leyster; the only female Dutch master. She worked in Haarlem and produced a painting in 1630 called The Last Drop. Currently on display at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, in

72

Dissection

the foreground it shows two men, one sipping the last drop out of the wine jar, the other smoking a pipe and holding an empty beer stein or tankard upside down, symbolizing the end of an evening of carousal. A skeleton, as if alive, presents them with a skull and a burning candle in one hand and an hourglass in the other. It is as though Death wants to tell them: ‘If you guys go on drinking and smoking like that, your time will come sooner rather than later! If you keep leading this thoughtless life of debauchery, I will come and get you. It would be much wiser to lead a life of moderation and keep me away until a later time.’ It is Death himself, who is compelled to deliver this warning. Death is therefore portrayed as the protector of life.

73