To Quote the Master

I have here, my favorite Rembrandt copy yet. But I am compelled to ask, as you likely are, why the obsession with copying Rembrandt? Why the obsession with copying in general? Certainly, I learn tremendous amounts by copying these paintings, but after a certain point....

I do continue learning each time I copy - even if I copy the same painting, each one reveals something new, something I could not quite grasp before. But, somehow this is not the entirety of why I do this. There's something else, something almost nameless that drives me to continue this. I think it has something to do with a search for meaning - an effort to reconstruct something integral to the human soul, which was cast aside in the post-modern era. Deconstruction has thrown the baby out with the bathwater. Let us try to give this a name.

I think the closest explanation that I have found is a short story by Jorge Luis Borges entitled Pierre Menard, Author of Don Quixote. It can be found in his book Labyrinths, from which I'll quote a small excerpt. He discusses the hypothetical reasoning behind the hypothetical author Menard's rewriting Don Quixote.

"There is no exercise of the intellect which is not, in the final analysis, useless. A philosophical doctrine begins as a plausible description of the universe; with the passage of years it becomes a mere chapter-if not a paragraph or a name-in the history of philosophy. In literature, this eventual caducity is even more notorious. The Quixote-Menard told me-was above all, an entertaining book; now it is the occasion for patriotic toasts, grammatical insolence and obscene de luxe editions. Fame is a form of incomprehension, perhaps the worst."

He goes on to say, more solidly than I, that

"Cervantes' text and Menard's are verbally identical, but the second is almost infinitely richer. (More ambiguous, his detractors will say, but ambiguity is richness.)"

The conclusion of the story puts forth the premise that "deliberate anachronism" and "erroneous attribution" enrich the text. Because the second (the copy) has the context of the original and the added context of it's recent re-creation giving it another dimension of depth and interpretability.

So, in analogy, perhaps I am testing this theory in paint. The "deliberate anachronism" of smearing dirt and oil onto pieces of cloth in an age when I could use a multitude of different and contemporary methods, seems to hold some importance to me. The anachronism of the act, the anachronism of the subject, the anachronism of the technique - for me almost poetry, but why?

Considering this, does the copy become an artistic or philosophical statement in it's own right, or is it nothing more than mimesis?

Hendrickje Stoffels

This is a copy I just finished at the Met. It is Hendrickje Stoffels by Rembrandt.
I love the psychological content in her eyes. The photo has a little glare in the top right. I'll have to update the photo.

The Hand of a Master?

From the beginning I have to preface this by admitting that I am self appointed expert on Rembrandt's works and painting techniques. But I should think that my opinion is just as valid as anyone else who has studied his work inside and out for many years. But don't take my word for it, I'll give you the opportunity to judge for yourself. On my website, www.memoreejoelle.org, you can find many copies I've painted from Rembrandt. These studies and research compiled from various sources are the basis for which I will compare a few paintings I've come across, one of which I just don't believe was painted by Rembrandt himself, though it is largely considered to be by his hand.

Consider this (Rembrandt) self portrait as St. Paul (1661) on the left. From a first glance at the composition and the gestural, descriptive brush strokes, it appears to fit the criteria quite well. But upon closer examination, and consideration alongside several other self-portraits, I find some inconsistencies, which I'll point out.


First, the subtle changes from light to shadow which we see on the middle(1662) and bottom(1658) are not quite so subtle on the top. This is a subtle difference which is not very well conveyed by the photo on the bottom, but can be seen in the original in the Frick collection which I have visited many times. Secondly, there is a much greater accuracy of draughtsmanship in the second and third portraits, as well as a more consistent use of the brushstrokes to describe the shape or form of the head. In the first these expressive strokes appear more arbitrary. Third, the idea of the shape of the head (or the form sense) is different. In other words, whoever painted St. Paul has a different understanding of the anatomy and shape of the skull than the other two. To be specific I'll point out the exact regions I mean. In the portrait at the top, the superciliary arches above the eyes and the shape of the forehead are inconsistent with the other two. The zygomatic (cheek) bones protrude less in the first in relation to the plane of the temples. Also, the maxilla (upper lip) is shortened and the mandible is slightly more square. All of these are relatively consistent in most other self portraits known to be painted by Rembrandt.
The Kenwood self portrait in the middle was painted at least at the same time or a year later than the one on the top, so we know that he wasn't just simply loosing his faculties. In fact, his paintings continue to be consistent up until his death in 1669. There have been dating methods performed on this painting, however, and the fibers and pigments are consistent with the period and geography, so my assumption is that this was painted by one of his students. Regardless of all these elements, it was still a master of some facility who painted this portrait, and I for one feel that it should not be devalued even if it is not a Rembrandt.
-Richard T. Scott