Wednesday, October 26, 2016

17th-century Paintings from the Netherlands

Adriaen van Ostade
Painter's studio
ca. 1670-75
Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam

Paulus Bor
Disillusioned Medea
ca. 1640
Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York

Oh, can we love and live? Pray, let us die
If living cannot meet. I'll tell you why:
When dead we may both of us turn to air,
So meet in higher regions that is fair,
Thus have a calm; or, turned to waters sweet,
Posting down rivers, in the sea to meet;
Or else, our subtle motions air, mount higher,
Our heated love inflame us to one fire,
And there we're joined: one sun, your love and mine,
On mortal lovers here ever to shine. 

 William Cavendish, Duke of Newcastle (1592-1676)

Michael Janz van Mierevelt
Portrait of Horace Vere
National Portrait Gallery, London

Karel Dujardin
Regents of the Spinhuis
Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam

Bartholomeus van der Helst
The Musician
Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York

Aert de Gelder
Ahimelech presents the sword of Goliath to David
Getty Museum, Los Angeles

Adriaen van de Velde
Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam

David Colijns
Ascension of Elijah
Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam

Jacob van Ruisdael
Wheat fields
ca. 1670
Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York

Salomon van Ruysdael
Country road
Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York

Salomon van Ruysdael
Marine scene
Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York

Philip de Koninck
River landscape
Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam

Cornelis van Poelenburch
Landscape with Diana and Actaeon
Prado, Madrid

Joachim Wtewael
Wedding of Peleus and Thetis
Clark Art Institute, Williamstown, Mass.

How like a fire doth love increase in me:
   The longer that it lasts, the stronger still,
   The greater, purer, brighter; and doth fill
   No eye with wonder more than hopes still be
Bred in my breast, when fires of love are free
   To use that part to their best pleasing will;
   And now impossible it is to kill
   The heat so great, where love his strength doth see.
Mine eyes can scarce sustain the flames my heart
   Doth trust in them, my passions to impart,
   And languishingly strive to show my love;
My breath not able is to breathe least part
   Of that increasing fuel of my smart;
   Yet love I will till I but ashes prove.

 Lady Mary Wroth (ca. 1586-ca. 1652)