Peter Paul Rubens, Elevation of the Cross, a print by Heyndrik Withouck

Smarthistory
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12 Video Views·Sep 21, 2026
Heyndrik Withouck after Peter Paul Rubens, Elevation of the Cross, 1638, engraving and etching, 61.5 x 124.5 cm (Museum of Fine Arts, Boston)
speakers: Benjamin Weiss, Leonard A. Lauder Senior Curator of Visual Culture, Museum of Fine Arts, Boston and Beth Harris
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Video Summary
AI GeneratedThis video examines a large-scale print of the *Elevation of the Cross* at the MFA Boston. It explores how Peter Paul Rubens used printmaking as a strategic tool for branding and fame, treating prints not merely as copies of paintings, but as independent works of art with their own psychological impact and legal protections.
We're standing in the Center for Netherlandish Art
at the MFA in Boston,
and we're looking at an unexpectedly large print
of the Elevation of the Cross,
a print after the famous altarpiece by Rubens
that's today in the Church of Our Lady in Antwerp.
You'll probably recognize the subject
of Christ appealing up to the heavens
as the cross is being raised
in this great dramatic swirl of energy.
But while the print looks very much like that painting
and is related to that painting,
this print isn't after that work specifically.
This is actually based on another version
of that composition that Rubens made 30 years after
in preparation specifically for this print.
And that takes us to the important subject
of how Rubens saw his prints
in relationship to his paintings.
Printmaking was really important to Rubens.
The way that most people around Europe knew Rubens' work
was actually through prints
as much as it was through paintings.
So Rubens is very conscious of the importance
that printed versions of his works are
in spreading his fame and in spreading his brand.
But he wasn't much of a printmaker himself.
This print is not by Rubens.
It was made under his direction,
very much the way that most of the paintings
are actually a product of Rubens and company.
It's a brand.
He's the leader of an artistic factory
producing the brand of Rubens.
He wants the print to look like the kind of print
that he would make were he a printmaker.
There's different ways of digging a groove
into a copper plate,
because that's what you're doing.
You're taking a sharp tool
and you're digging into comparatively soft metal
to make little grooves that will hold ink.
There's an infinite number of different ways
of making those lines.
The printmaker who made this is not a famous printmaker.
He's basically known only for the work he did around Rubens.
That makes a lot of sense to me
because he's not looking for a printmaker
who has his own artistic identity and ambitions,
but someone who will follow his directions.
And he's also protecting his work legally.
The print conveys that very message,
the idea that this is a branded product,
that this is, in our terms, a copyrighted product.
One of the fascinating things on prints of his period
is little statements like this one
down at the bottom right.
Cum privilegii regis Christianissimi
Principium Belgorum et Ordinum Bataviae.
So this is basically a copyright statement
that Rubens, and Rubens alone,
has a privilege on this image,
that only he or his studio can issue this image.
And he gets the privilege for a certain number of years
in a certain area.
And there's a lot of copyright pirating in this period.
And Rubens is trying to make sure
that his brand is protected.
Normally we think about prints as small and rather intimate,
but here we're dealing with something else entirely.
Big prints like this are complicated.
It's not always clear why they were made.
When I think about this composition,
my mind goes to the altarpiece and its triptych format,
literally three separate panels.
But here that composition is brought together,
and of course it's reversed because of the print.
The print is also divided into three sections,
but for a different reason.
If you look carefully,
you can find where there are seams in the print
because this was printed from three copper plates.
It would be impossible to print a copper plate
this big at that time, at least.
But even though the print is also a triptych,
by pulling the composition together,
it somehow creates a more clear definition
of zones of struggle and reaction.
Here on the right, you get a zone of despair.
Here on the left,
you get a zone of political triumph, perhaps.
You can walk around the image
without the barriers of the frame
and have a fuller emotional
and psychological picture of the event.
I feel much more a part of this composition
because we have figures on both sides
looking at the center in this unified composition,
the figures in the trees who look at the center,
and even between some of the figures
who are raising the cross, we see other onlookers.
It's a large print,
but in comparison to the altarpiece,
it's a small object,
and you're much closer to it
than you would ever be to the altarpiece itself.
So you have the opportunity to participate
in the composition in a way
that you can't quite when you're in the church.
And originally, that altarpiece was meant
for the Church of St. Walburgis
and was up a flight of stairs,
and you would have been quite far from it
and seen it in a very specific liturgical context.
And in that sense,
though you don't think of Rubens
as an artist of private devotion,
in a way, a big print like this
of an even bigger public altarpiece
could translate into an object of more quiet devotion.
At the same time, it's also a public statement
because underneath the image
is this lovely dedicatory inscription
to his patron, Cornelius Vanderfeest,
who had just died.
We're calling him as the oldest of friends
and the most wonderful of men.
It's clear that Rubens is really thinking about this
as an independent work of art,
even though it is after a painting.
This is very much an independent work of art,
just as the oil sketch is an independent work of art
and the altarpiece is.
Each one of them does a different job.
The oil sketch in Toronto is not just black and white.
It has color,
and that suggests that perhaps Rubens intended it
as an independent work,
even after it had served as a model for the print.
Perhaps he even added the color
after the print had been made,
when the oil sketch could serve as a gift
or maybe even something to sell.
But perhaps that color was there
because in some way, Rubens is asking his engraver
to translate his color into this engraving.
And that's one of the most powerful reasons
why we need to study works of art in the original
because when that color was applied matters,
and it may tell us what Rubens's intentions were
and what he thought the work of art was to do
and how he was trying to communicate
both to his engraver, but also to his audience.
