Van Eyck [antikvár]

Karel von Mander, in his collection of biographies of artists compiled at the end of the 16th century, describes the extraordinary interest shown by the people of Ghent in the famous Van Eyck altar, on the rare feast-days that it was open to public view in the cathedral. "On these occassions so great was the throng that scarcely could one approach it near to; while the chapel in which it could be seen was filled with people throughout the day. There were painters old and young, and patrons of the arts, swarming around the altarpiece like bees and flies eager to sample the sweetness of overflowing baskets of figs and grapes in summer . . ." If we were to visit the scene nowadays, we would see the same thing; and this would apply not only to the altar at Ghent but more or less to any Van Eyck work. The general public favours early Netherlandish painting on the whole. Nobody makes a habit of criticizing them, and even the devotees of ultra-modern trends in art refrain from describing them as boring realists, which is no small matter so far as they are concerned. Consider, for example, how many slighting comments have been made about Raphael, Rubens and David, all three of whom were such outstanding representatives of the three great periods of art in which they lived. Such comments are not, of course, to be found in the pronouncements of art historians, but tend, rather, to crop up in the conversation of those artists who prefer merely to judge the great artists of the past by applying to them their own standards; or in the discussions of those members of the younger generation who wish to parade their independence of spirit. However, Jan van Eyck is not usually a target for criticism by anyone, which is remarkable in itself. Can it be that the majority of people, who reject the non-figurative arts, regard him as the praiseworthy and honourable standard-bearer of 'normal' art which takes care to show respect for visible reality? If that were the case, the devotees of modern art would have all the more reason to attack him and to speak of him as a boring naturalistic painter. Or is it that our technical age is inherently inclined to pay homage to an artist who was a perfectionist so far as craftsmanship is concerned? But from that point of view the academic painters of the last century are scarcely open to reproach either, yet how little are we attracted by their works. It is strange to think how much tastes have changed during the last two hundred years. It was in 1781 that two panels were removed from the Ghent altar, which is nowadays considered to represent the pinnacle of artistic achievement of the brothers Van Eyck. Joseph II, emperor of Austria, who was on a visit to Ghent, considered that the panels, which depicted Adam and Eve without any clothing, were gravely offensive to modesty and out of keeping with the dignity of the sacred edifice. This, indeed, was not a point of view which had anything to do with aesthetics; nevertheless, it is clear that the artistic worth of the paintings was not highly regarded, otherwise there would have been some mention of this. The incident opened a period of tribulations for the altarpiece, which lasted one hundred and fifty years. In 1794 soldiers of the French revolutionary armies dismantled the four central panels in order to send them to Paris. This may, perhaps, still be regarded as a token of esteem, but rather less so the fact that, when the panels were returned to Ghent, the wings were taken off and put up for sale. Real interest was aroused only during the period of the Romanticists' cult of the Middle Ages. This remains true, even though Goethe stated as early as 1825 that the sum total of everything he had written during his whole lifetime was worth less than a single Jan van Eyck painting. But Goethe was in advance of his times in very many ways. The continually growing interest in early Netherlandish painting subsequently transformed the "Ghent Altarpiece" into one of Belgium's most prized national treasures. When the question arose of reparations by Germany after her defeat in the First World War, the return of the missing wings, which were held at that time in Berlin, was included amongst Belgium's demands. In 1920 the complete altar was reassembled in its original form. In 1934 the panel depicting the "Just Judges" was stolen, subsequently to be replaced by a modern copy, so that the deficiency should not, at least, be instantly apparent. Even in its mutilated form, however, the ensemble is so beautiful that to this day it attracts visitors by the million. The "Ghent Altarpiece" is inscribed with a quatrain which the passage of time, the curious intertwining of the letters, and the use of unusual abbreviations, have combined to render barely legible. The translation given here is the version provided by the eminent art historian, Erwin Panofsky. "The painter Hubert van Eyck, greater than whom no one was found, began [this work]; and Jan, his brother, second in art, having carried through the task at the expense of Jodocus Vyd, invites you by this verse, on the sixth of May, to look at [or possibly 'to protect'] what has been done." The last line is a chronostich containing the date 1432. The value of the verse, therefore, lies in the fact that it provides signed and dated evidence of the picture's authenticity, thereby satisfying the most important requirements of those engaged in research. Moreover, Jan van Eyck is the first Flemish artist to sign a number of his paintings. Sometimes he also added a date, but unfortunately most often on