Jan van Eyck, The Arnolfini Portrait

We're in the National Gallery in London, in a small room, and at its center is one of the most famous paintings in this museum, and really in the entire Northern Renaissance tradition. This is Jan van Eyck's Arnolfini Portrait. What we're looking at is a double portrait, but there seems to be more going on. The man has his right hand raised, and the couple is holding hands. Although not palm against palm, this used to be known as the Arnolfini Wedding Portrait, and this is an expression of the fact that we don't know much about this painting. Perhaps the most enduring interpretation came from Erwin Panofsky, who interpreted this painting as a kind of marriage certificate that certified that these figures were, in fact, married, and that the artist himself had been a witness. Because one of the most unusual aspects of this painting is the mirror at the center, above the figure's clasped hands, and the artist's unusual signature. The signature says, Johannes van Eyck was here, and just below is a date, 1434. Now, this is a convex mirror, and because it's convex, we're treated to a wider view of the room. We see the back of the figures, a window, and outside the window we see more of the bed, the chandelier, and two additional figures that seem to be descending stairs, entering the room. And because of the signature, we assume one of them is the artist, and they are, in this early interpretation, witnessing the marriage. And so the signature is a kind of testament to the fact that this marriage actually occurred. Panofsky went on to interpret other objects in the room in light of this idea of marriage. So, for example, we have a single candle in the chandelier, perhaps indicating the sacredness of this event. The figures have removed their shoes, the positions of their hands, carving of Saint Margaret, who is the patron saint of childbirth. Many people, when they look at the painting quickly, jump to the conclusion that the woman is pregnant. She's wearing a heavy woolen dress that is lined with fur. You can see the pleating at her waist. But then she raises up the skirt and doubles it, and so we have this volume. This was actually a fashionable style of dress in the 15th century in Bruges, where Jan van Eyck lived. And art historians believe that this is Giovanni Arnolfini, a member of an extended family of Italian merchants who were living in Bruges, providing very expensive textiles to the Duke of Burgundy, Philip the Good. So it does seem that this is more than a portrait, but not necessarily, according to the most recent scholarship, the document of a marriage. The fact that he was a merchant helps me understand this painting, because the painting is celebrating material wealth, material beauty. We see this in the expensive and elaborate clothing, in the brass lamp that hangs from the ceiling, in the amber prayer beads that hang next to the mirror, the carpet, which may be an Asian import. Or even in those oranges, one of which sits on the sill and three others just below on a chest, that were true luxury items that would have expressed both wealth and taste. And there's also the volumes of expensive red fabric that we see on the bench behind them and also on the bed. And the bed was in the reception room because it was the most expensive piece of furniture in the house. So we can know just how prosperous this family is. Arnolfini is a wealthy merchant. This painting is clearly about that status. So much so that it has led at least one art historian to hypothesize that this painting may have been viewed in the context of the court of Philip the Good, the very place that the artist, Jan van Eyck, was the court artist. This is a small community. You have this wealthy Italian merchant up in Bruges selling luxury items to the duke. You have the artist who's working directly for the duke. And here, presumably, that merchant has commissioned this painting from that artist. Philip the Good, the Duke of Burgundy, is perhaps the wealthiest man in all of Europe. He controls territories from Northern Europe down into France and is commissioning all sorts of luxury items. One of the things that the Duke of Burgundy was famous for commissioning were elaborate illuminated manuscripts. And that's interesting when we look at this painting because there is such detail here. There is such precision. There's such an almost microscopic quality to the handling of paint that it recalls manuscript illumination. Van Eyck was a master of creating the illusion of reality. And one of the ways that he's able to do that is through the use of oil paint, which allows him to create small details. For example, the roundels that surround the mirror, where we can see tiny paintings of the Passion of Christ. For example, at the very top, we can see the Crucifixion. Not only do we see these images, but also the shadows cast by the mirror itself and tiny brushstrokes of yellow that indicate the reflection of that light coming from the window on the left. So he's painting these tiny details, but also this interest in textures. Amber that glows in the light. The straw that makes up the clothes brush that we see to the right of the mirror. And look at those prayer beads. Not only do the forms themselves depict areas of dark and brilliant light, but then they cast both reflection and shadow. So there's this tremendously sophisticated understanding of the representation of light, even in these very complex scenarios. My favorite example of Van Eyck's ability to capture detail is the dog. Panofsky interpreted the presence of the dog as a symbol of fidelity, of faithfulness. And maybe that is what this dog represents. But what I see is this amazingly real animal that seems to be reacting to the figures who are walking into the room. We even see individual hairs of the dog. And then when we continue to look at the dog, we notice that Van Eyck has even painted the grain of the wood on the floor of this room. And the veracity of the dog is in contrast to the stillness, the seriousness of the couple. The shutters have been opened, below the window is opened, and above there's a fixed pane of bottle glass. But light is pouring in, and we get a sense of that from the shadow that is cast by its frame against the brick and the wood interior. But for all of the sense of detail, the artist does not seem particularly interested in getting the illusion of the interior space exactly right. The floor seems to tilt upward, the space seems compressed. And we see that also in the representation of the figures, whose proportions are not quite perfect. The male figure seems a little bit too long. His hands are attenuated. But I think that this is an attempt by the artist to add a degree of elegance, to add a degree of refinement, to idealize these figures. So in the end, we have a painting of a couple who seem to be engaged in something important. Art historians have speculated a wedding, a betrothal, a posthumous portrait of the female figure. We just don't know. We may never know. But whatever the interpretation, it is so compelling. Van Eyck draws our eye to each detail, each object. The man's shoes. The woman's shoes. The dog. The oranges. The mirror. The chandelier. The couple's hands. The hat. The white cotton around her face. The elaborate train of the woman's green cloth. The fur that the man wears. We linger over all of these beautiful material aspects of what Van Eyck has represented. And the end result is a painting that is one of the most engaging in European art history and displays a kind of mastery of oil paint that is astounding.