See below for transcript for ease of reading
New York Univerersity
Institute of Fine Arts
1 East 78th Street
New York
N.Y.10075
Mr Nigel Konstam
40 Norland Square
Holland Park
London W11
February 27, 1978
Dear Nigel,
I have only a weak excuse for returning your manuscript after such a long delay. The only reason I can find for postponing my reply to you is the consideration whether I should be frank at the risk of disappointing you.
I must confess that I am not convinced at all by your supposition that Rembrandt used mirrors, neither by your hypothesis of his availing himself of models for his religious subjects, nor by your re-attribution of a considerable number of drawings to Rembrandt. Also, in reference to a later letter of yours, I cannot see the use of mirrors in Velasquez. I know that you feel strongly about your opinions. I feel equally strongly about mine. The main reason for my not accepting your first hypothesis, is the absence of any evidence indicating the existence of mirrors large enough to reflect entire figures in the seventeenth century. Enlarging Rembrandt’s work is contrary to our improving understanding of the extent of Rembrandt’s work.
As you realize, I have not yet referred to your second hypothesis, namely that Rembrandt used live models in certain configurations which he sketched or painted from different points of view. I believe that your observation of the frequency of figural groups depicted from different angles is a real contribution to our understanding of seventeenth century art. Since you pointed out this phenomenon in your manuscript – and this may be a benefit of my delaying a reply – and after having read your article in the Burlington Magazine, I have come to learn to recognize the same phenomenon in the work of Rubens. You will agree with me that in various instances in different periods of his career, Rubens represented the same figure seen from a different angles apparently without using a drawing or other model.
I believe that the value of your discovery is the following. It is insufficiently realized that Rembrandt and Rubens, and probably many of their contemporaries, had the ability to imagine or recall the position of one or more figures in space and sketch them or paint them whenever the need presented iself. This retentive visual memory may be a charcteristic feature of seventeenth century art. I believe that it would be of great use to the history of art if you would elaborate on this discovery of yours. To put it differently. I believe that your explanation of the phenomenon by postulating the existence of mechanical means in mirrors is wrong, but that the phenomenon itself exists and can be explained differently, the concepts of space in the era of the Baroque had their own characteristics which need to be redefined.
Since Andrew Wilton was involved in our discussions, I am sending him a copy of this letter.
Sincerely yours,
Egbert
The great advantage I have over the professional art historians is that my training and life has been in art not in art history. Art historical training since 1915, the publication of Wolfflin’s “The Principles of Art History”, blinkers it’s students. It has led to the study of style instead of art. And style seems to have become limited to handwriting as far as most of it’s exponents are concerned.
They believe they are being more scientific: limiting themselves to what they can see rather than responding fully to the meaning of the marks on the page, which after all is what art is about. As a result their studious efforts contain none of the insight that might help us to understand why artists have valued Rembrandt’s drawings so highly. Compare my appreciation of Rembrandt’s drawing of exhausted motherhood, (link) with the British Museum catalogue entry for the same drawing: Three pages of description of the marks, which conclude with the near deattribution of this wonderfully, truthful, life-illuminating drawing. Three pages with no indication of what the marks might mean humanly. Not that Mr Royalton Kisch, the author, is a fool, his professional training has blinded him to such “unscientific” considerations; sad, particularly when dealing with the artist who has taught us most about how we communicate subconsciously through body language.
Another example of the same might be found in my article for Peter Fuller (link) where I write about Rembrandt’s drawing “David on his Deathbed Appoints Solomon as his Successor” one of Rembrandt’s most profound and heavily worked masterpieces but nonetheless deattributed by Benesch in 1922.
In all modesty I must claim that my work has more science with probably the most clear proofs that art history has ever provided of what actually went on in the studios. My admirers have dubbed me the Sherlock Holmes of art history for good reason. No one else has shown how desperately we need a thorough reform of art history itself, it’s recruitment and training. As Prof. Gombrich has noted art history is an area “ particularly vulnerable to the springtides of myth”. Art myths have been with us for so long, they are a part of our belief system and culture, it is very difficult to persuade people they are nonsense. The power of the visual imagination is one such myth - Rembrandt in his utterances and in his work was dead against working from imagination; it was “worthless in his eyes”and his flying angels were designed to show how worthless they are, because they cannot be observed. Yet Rembrandt scholarship insists his biblical subject were drawn “from his continually productive fantasy”.
It is very likely that the art of our time will suffer a more severe generational reappraisal than any previous generation due to the unprecedented power of present art historians over what gets noticed and supported. That unprecedented power is more derived from the technical advances of the visual media than from the quality of what they have to say. We artists need critics as spokesmen who activate the patrons but we desperately need them to be more perceptive of what art used to be about. Where they find Rembrandt a prefiguration of Andy Warhol I find him the artist most reliably true to his own vision. He spent his life trying to persuade us that observing nature/life was his aim, yet the experts want to persuade us that he imagined his most important works; their expertise depends on this dis-proven belief; I drove a coach and horses over the idea with my article in The Burlington (Feb.1977) “Rembrandt’s Use of Models and Mirrors” which proved conclusively that he drew these subjects from tableaux vivants he set up in his studio.
Art historians have built castles in the air that depend upon this false belief and they need to be exorcised. I am thinking of the discussion of the iconography of Rembrandt and his school, which can be accounted for more persuasively by seeing the differences, not as philosophical differences but as differences of physical viewpoint of the same tableau. And yes, Rembrandt had a school not a workshop. There is no mention of his workshop in the literature before the Rembrandt Research Project got to work in 1968; the workshop is a modern fabrication. Rembrandt had students who paid him twice the going rate to study with him, not assistants like Rubens’, who would have been paid handsomely by him.
The idea of wanting to trace the development of Rembrandt’s art is not absurd. Darwin had broken the mould of Genesis with his observations “The Evolution of the Species” and Rembrandt’s paintings do fall into a pattern of development from crude beginnings to immensely careful observation of detail in the early 1630s then to a steady broadening of his vision but still very much based on observation. Fortunately for us he signed and dated his paintings fairly consistently, furthermore, he used oil paint exclusively, so we are always comparing like with like in his paintings. But as a draughtsman he varies his medium from the finest etching point to chalk or the broad reed pen or brush, which are so very different to his normal choice the finely sharpened quill. These different media by nature produce very different results and Rembrandt experimented with them throughout his life. See the two versions of the kneeling John the Baptist or the two versions of the Dismissal of Hagar (1640 & 1652) which Benesch has placed twelve years apart where quite obviously they are drawn from the same seat in the studio from the same group, one after the other but with different pens.
Dated by scholars 1640 with quill and wash |
Dated by scholars 1652 with reed pen |
On occasion Benesch’s illogical and highly disruptive division is as long as 30 years: see the series “The Raising of Jairus Daughter”. How can we possible trust the experts who have tolerated and added to the confusion? since Benesch published his catalogue in 1954?
Prof. Sir Ernst Gombrich and Dr J. Montagu championed and advised on the presentation of my article in The Burlington Feb.1977
Prof. Sir Lawrence Gowing in a letter after I had given my Rembrandt talk at The Slade, wrote: “your division between objective and imaginative is more satisfactory and comprehensible than anything before” He repeated this judgement in the Times Literary Supplement (17/02/78)
Prof. Bryan Coles in a review in Icon No.8 The Imperial College Magazine wrote of my maquettes: “many of which compel assent” and with foresight “It would be a pity for scholarship not to profit from his imaginative researches.”
Max Wyks-Joyce review in the NY Herald Tribune (27/01/76) wrote “certainly the exhibition is a seminal one which should not be lightly dismissed”
Nigel Hawkes in The Observer (23/11/75) headed his long article The Rembrandt Revelation
Benedict Nicolson, editor of The Burlington wrote: “I find the evidence you have accumulated of the greatest possible interest, and so I am sure will Rembrandt scholars, who must now get down to revising the corpus of drawings”
Dr. M. Kauffman, head of the Dept. of Prints and Drawings at the Victoria and Albert Museum wrote: “you certainly make a pretty convincing case for the Rembrandts”
Anthony Bailey in The New Yorker’s review of recent Rembrandt scholarship gave me a thumbs up, as well as devoting some pages to my work in his book Rembrandt’s House pp 99-100 & on 214 – 215 he quotes me at length and writes “The scholars will assuredly tussle with Mr. Konstam. But he represents the sort of fresh thinking Rembrandt attracts...”
The scholars do not tussle they undermine in publications where there is no means of reply.
Hans Brill in his introduction to my second exhibition at Imperial College wrote: “it is certainly true that we often rely on artists to interpret our world... Nigel Konstam’s work shows some fascinating aspects of this process.”
The introduction to my talk at The Wallace Collection reads “Konstam’s discoveries have proved surprisingly controversial considering that they agree entirely with the documentary evidence of of Rembrandt’s own contemporaries and earlier connoisseurship. They are clear and obvious to the layman observer. It is today’s scholars that are out of step.”
First one must understand that the anonymous reader, let us suppose he was male, belonged to a team, one might say an army, of Rembrandt scholars whom I had just criticized to the extent as to demolish their expertise and possibly their livelihood with it. I had published with Prof. Gombrich’s help an article in The Burlington Magazine that did just that - politely. There were only shreds left of their previously esteemed work. I understand their dilemma because in a way I was defending my own beliefs about Rembrandt against their attack. Up until the report I had only received one half-valid criticism:– that the mirrors I needed if I insisted on live models (I do) would have to be 8 ft across and plate glass did not exist in Rembrandt’s life time - but this is easily answered by the fact that composite mirrors certainly did. Rembrandt drew less well and with less enthusiasm from a reflection than from life direct. He seemed to do it in several cases of two separate drawings in the hope that the reflected one might generate new ideas later.
The readers report was so packed with details that can best be answered by reading the book. I will only answer the chief point that some may feel deserved answering, I never felt it was.
The reader and I come to Rembrandt drawings from so different backgrounds it is easy for him who has probably spent most of his adult life reading the literature and pondering over the original drawings with a magnifying glass to accuse me of a “narrow focus”. I freely admit that my sources of information were very limited -1. Otto Benesch’s 6 volume catalogue of 1954 and 2. Seymor Slive’s two Dover paperback volumes of drawings believed to be by Rembrandt in 1904 but Prof. Slive (of Harvard) had written underneath the reproductions his reasons for disapproving of a good number. It was a growing sense of amazement that drove me to enquire what had gone wrong. In fact Rembrandt scholars believe that he drew his biblical subjects from imagination. I believe Rembrandt’s contemporaries, who tell us “that he would not attempt a single brushstroke without a living model before his eyes” and several more similar statements.
My strength is that I was trained as a sculptor draughtsman not as an art historian. Very soon in that training I came to regard Rembrandt as the best example of draughtsmanship for sculptors. Why did I choose Rembrandt instead of Michelangelo, Bernini or Flaxman? - because Rembrandt seemed infinitely more aware of the power of three-dimensional gesture and juxtaposition to convey human meaning than the others. Artist in the 20th century became more aware of the importance of space and I was one of them. I hugely admire Bernini's Santa Teresa sculpture for its power in conveying ecstasy but as a draftsman I have not come across any equivalent in his drawings where Rembrandt is capable of finding a very wide variety of feeling in the space relationships and gestures of his actors. It is interesting to note that Rembrandt in his early years in Amsterdam produced a good number of drawings of actors both individually and complete scenes from the theatre. I guess this must have alerted him to the usefulness of theatrical production, which he then reproduced in his own studio. With live actors it is so easy to experiment with gesture and space relationships.
We are dealing with the difference between myself, a dyslexic whose input is strongly visual rather than verbal and an army of scholars selected because of their verbal skills who may have been drawn towards art history by its cultural importance but have probably never practised it other than as amateurs. It is generally agreed that to achieve a professional level of competence as a musician or artist you need to put in about 10,000 hours of practice. Naturally this will vary according to the level of natural talent for the chosen skill but by the age of 42 when I discovered Rembrandt’s use of models and mirrors I had put in twice that number of hours at my sculpture and a good deal of study in a more casual way of art generally in the galleries of Europe and through reproductions. Naturally this had bred in me a confidence in my own judgement. An artist is working towards a goal and my goal had been mostly to follow Rembrandt. So I had good reason to believe that I was more in tune with his thoughts than the experts. As I leafed through the new Dover paperbacks of the drawings I asked myself the question for the first time - were these drawn from life? I answered that question with a resounding ‘Yes” when I came upon the two drawings of a beheading. They were drawn from two different angles and the group was complicated, three figures and a corpse. The two drawings fitted spatially to a degree that I challenge anyone to reproduce from imagination. I guess it would be impossible. This question proved crucial; it is the great divide between the experts and myself; they believe they were drawn from imagination. Before buying the paperbacks my only source of Rembrandt drawings had been Benesch’s “Selected Drawings” I do not think I ever read his introduction. I had thought to myself if they are selected they must be the best. I was wrong; Benesch had discarded several drawings that I regard as Rembrandt’s greatest masterpieces not because they are perfect but because they tell us clearly where his true interests lie: that is in communicating feeling through body language. I can see why Benesch discarded them, they contain a lot of second thoughts which make them all the more interesting but definitely not what a professional illustrator would send to the publisher. They are works in progress. Most of Rembrandt’s output as a draughtsman should be treated as such. The broad technique of his later paintings also seem to invite further thought.
Benesch claimed he could date Rembrandt's drawings by style to within 1 or 2 years, three at most. My article and this book being criticized proved this to be a colossal error. An error that is maintained by the experts to this day in spite of the overwhelming evidence I have accumulated and that of Rembrandt’s contemporaries to the contrary. As the advertisement to my lecture at the Wallace Collection claims ““Konstam’s discoveries have proved surprisingly controversial considering that they agree entirely with the documentary evidence of of Rembrandt’s own contemporaries and earlier connoisseurship. They are clear and obvious to the layman observer. It is today’s scholars that are out of step.”
To deal with “the most disturbing example” from the report – two drawings B.524 and B.916 both of The Dismissal of Hagar (link to video) Konstam suggests that they should not be dated 1640 and 1652 by Benesch (a pair direct from life with its mirror image drawing) but were drawn “at a single session, from living models.”
Looking back on my statement I must admit that there is no way I can prove the “single session” though I do point out that Hagar was clearly fading with exhaustion in the B.916. My point was that they were drawn from the same group but with different pens; perhaps days or months apart but not 12 years. (One day forensic science might be able to show the ink was the same in both.) The reader then goes on to point out that the figure of Abraham in B.542 was in fact drawn on a “separate piece of paper stuck to the main sheet” implying that this figure was parachuted in from Rembrandt’s imagination. In truth I had not noticed the separate addition though it was just visible in the reproduction . It makes absolutely no difference to my argument. I was aware that Rembrandt used this firmer method of erasure when a wash had failed; there is nothing else one can do drawing with ink. There is no reason why Abraham should not have been re-observed on the new surface, from the live group, which I have no doubt was present in Rembrandt’s studio for months as some of his students made large elaborate paintings from the same group.
If this was his chief complaint I hope you can see how trivial and inconsequential the rest were. (If anyone wants more defences I will supply them.) Nonetheless, this hatchet job was sufficient to prevent the book ever being published by anyone, though it had already been not only accepted by Phaidon,"with the whole editorial board's backing” but the book design was ready.
Bastien Gomperts, a research bio-chemist first told me I had discovered a new key to Rembrandt and that I should write it up. My wife Janet helped me to do so. Andrew Wilton polished the article and showed it to his colleague at the British Museum, Christopher White, who said it would be very important if I could prove it. I sent it to the Burlington thinking I had proved my point, it was not accepted.
Hans Brill invited me to put on a show at Imperial College called A Sculptor’s Perspective. I wrote an Introduction which started with a quote from Ernst Gombrich (quoting Ranke). I invited him to the private view, he came and the next day invited a sub-editor of The Burlington to join us at the show. He was quickly convinced that my article should be resubmittted. It was again rejected. Gombrich called a governors’ meeting and it was agreed that Gombrich should help revise the article for the Burlington. Both he and Jennifer Montagu helped me and it was published in the February issue 1977.
I would like to thank all those who helped and supported my findings for this first article and particularly Stephan and Laura Cohn who for weekend after weekend edited the first version of this book and Nancy G. Telfer for editing the script for this second version. Alaya Sinclair filmed and Hannah Toomer edited the films. Sam Toomer composed the e-book.