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Lot Essay
This elegant pair of portraits epitomises the balance between graceful movement and gravitas for which Verspronck’s work was so highly prized. Previously believed to have been lost, the compositions were only known through copies that the family of the sitter had retained (sold Sotheby’s, Amsterdam, 5 May 2004, lot 297). Their rediscovery highlights the superiority of Verspronck’s ability and original execution.
Verspronck first studied with his father, the painter Cornelis Engelsz. (1575-1650), and may also have spent time in Frans Hals' studio before entering the Haarlem Guild of St. Luke in 1632. His work from the 1630s clearly shows Hals’ influence in his sitter’s poses, which display a jauntiness that counters the sombre hues of contemporary fashion. However, the younger artist rarely tried to emulate his master’s loose brushwork, preferring throughout his life a more controlled approach to portraiture. These works, painted towards the end of his career, hold a unique place in Verspronck’s oeuvre as his smallest pair of portraits, the reduced format lending the works a heightened sense of intimacy and immediacy of execution. A Portait of a young man, in which the sitter is similarly shown turned to the viewer over the back of his chair, in a work on panel (28 x 21 cm.), datable to c. 1651, appears to be the only other instance in which Verspronck adopted this small format (Frankfurt, Städel Museum).
At the time these portraits were painted, Jan van Galen was an admiral of the Dutch Mediterranean Fleet. Having been born in Essen, the son of Johan von Galen, in is unclear why van Galen entered the Dutch navy at the age of 23. However, he swiftly rose up the ranks, becoming a captain in 1630. The Eighty Years War (1568-1648), the tempestuous backdrop to all van Galen’s exploits, allowed him many opportunities to display his much lauded courage when he took over as captain of the Utrecht fleet from his rival, the renowned admiral Witte de With (1599-1658). It was van Galen who during the Battle of the Downs (1639) engaged with the flagship of the Spanish fleet, the Santiago, one of the actions that led to the resounding victory of the Dutch fleet.
His career was certainly eventful: being arrested twice, firstly by the Plymouth harbour authorities when attempting to sell ships captured as prizes of war in 1637, and later by de With himself for wilful disobedience. During the First Anglo-Dutch War (1652-1654), having assumed command of the fleet in the Mediterranean, he was tasked with preventing the two English fleets from combining forces. On the 4 March 1653 van Galen’s ships engaged with both English flotillas at the Battle of Livorno. Though the Dutch took control of the Mediterranean, van Galen was mortally wounded and died three weeks later. For such an important figure in Dutch history, it is surprising that, until the rediscovery of this work, only two contemporary depictions of van Galen were known, both listed in the Iconographia Batava (E.W. Moes, Amsterdam, 1897, I, p. 315): one by Jan Lievens (1607-1674), from which Jacobus Houbraken (1698-1780) later took his engraving, and the marble effigy on his tomb.
Despite its small format, Verspronck’s portrayal of van Galen can be understood in the tradition of the swagger portrait. His twisting pose, reminiscent of works such as Hals’ 1645 Portrait of Willem Coymans (Washington, National Gallery of Art), though capturing a greater solemnity than Hals’ dandy, is a bravura posture for a naval hero. This is emphasised by the position of the commander’s baton, which follows the turn of his body. With the heavily embroidered gold sash, the red ribbons at the double lace ruffle of his sleeves and the silver-gilt of his sword hilt, Verspronck displays both his own ability as a painter and captures the glitz of van Galen’s social position. Rather than scratching out the pattern in the heavy tassels at the collar and on the sash as he sometimes did, Verspronck has overlaid the downward understrokes with thick impasto dabs. This same technique can be seen in his larger Portrait of Eduard Wallis, dated 1652 (Amsterdam, Rijksmuseum), though Wallis lacks van Galen’s impressive ornamentation.
In comparison to her husband, Maria van Cracau, about whom little is known, is painted in a much more restrained pose and costume. For the contemporary viewer, the lemon in her hand would have held many layers of significance. As an expensive imported luxury, it could be understood as a sign of the couple's wealth. However, the lemon was also used as a symbol for the vanity of earthly pleasures; the lemon’s peel is tantalizingly bright but the flesh is sour, just as luxury is externally enticing, but would lead to a bitter end in God’s judgment. If the lemon is understood in this way, Maria’s portrait might have been intended to temper that of her husband's. Given their relatively small size, these portraits were probably designed to be displayed privately and the vanitas message would thus have served as a reminder to the couple to reflect on a life beyond their current wealth and position.
We are grateful to Prof. Dr. Rudi Ekkart for confirming the attribution of the present works and recognising them as the lost originals, after first hand inspection.
Verspronck first studied with his father, the painter Cornelis Engelsz. (1575-1650), and may also have spent time in Frans Hals' studio before entering the Haarlem Guild of St. Luke in 1632. His work from the 1630s clearly shows Hals’ influence in his sitter’s poses, which display a jauntiness that counters the sombre hues of contemporary fashion. However, the younger artist rarely tried to emulate his master’s loose brushwork, preferring throughout his life a more controlled approach to portraiture. These works, painted towards the end of his career, hold a unique place in Verspronck’s oeuvre as his smallest pair of portraits, the reduced format lending the works a heightened sense of intimacy and immediacy of execution. A Portait of a young man, in which the sitter is similarly shown turned to the viewer over the back of his chair, in a work on panel (28 x 21 cm.), datable to c. 1651, appears to be the only other instance in which Verspronck adopted this small format (Frankfurt, Städel Museum).
At the time these portraits were painted, Jan van Galen was an admiral of the Dutch Mediterranean Fleet. Having been born in Essen, the son of Johan von Galen, in is unclear why van Galen entered the Dutch navy at the age of 23. However, he swiftly rose up the ranks, becoming a captain in 1630. The Eighty Years War (1568-1648), the tempestuous backdrop to all van Galen’s exploits, allowed him many opportunities to display his much lauded courage when he took over as captain of the Utrecht fleet from his rival, the renowned admiral Witte de With (1599-1658). It was van Galen who during the Battle of the Downs (1639) engaged with the flagship of the Spanish fleet, the Santiago, one of the actions that led to the resounding victory of the Dutch fleet.
His career was certainly eventful: being arrested twice, firstly by the Plymouth harbour authorities when attempting to sell ships captured as prizes of war in 1637, and later by de With himself for wilful disobedience. During the First Anglo-Dutch War (1652-1654), having assumed command of the fleet in the Mediterranean, he was tasked with preventing the two English fleets from combining forces. On the 4 March 1653 van Galen’s ships engaged with both English flotillas at the Battle of Livorno. Though the Dutch took control of the Mediterranean, van Galen was mortally wounded and died three weeks later. For such an important figure in Dutch history, it is surprising that, until the rediscovery of this work, only two contemporary depictions of van Galen were known, both listed in the Iconographia Batava (E.W. Moes, Amsterdam, 1897, I, p. 315): one by Jan Lievens (1607-1674), from which Jacobus Houbraken (1698-1780) later took his engraving, and the marble effigy on his tomb.
Despite its small format, Verspronck’s portrayal of van Galen can be understood in the tradition of the swagger portrait. His twisting pose, reminiscent of works such as Hals’ 1645 Portrait of Willem Coymans (Washington, National Gallery of Art), though capturing a greater solemnity than Hals’ dandy, is a bravura posture for a naval hero. This is emphasised by the position of the commander’s baton, which follows the turn of his body. With the heavily embroidered gold sash, the red ribbons at the double lace ruffle of his sleeves and the silver-gilt of his sword hilt, Verspronck displays both his own ability as a painter and captures the glitz of van Galen’s social position. Rather than scratching out the pattern in the heavy tassels at the collar and on the sash as he sometimes did, Verspronck has overlaid the downward understrokes with thick impasto dabs. This same technique can be seen in his larger Portrait of Eduard Wallis, dated 1652 (Amsterdam, Rijksmuseum), though Wallis lacks van Galen’s impressive ornamentation.
In comparison to her husband, Maria van Cracau, about whom little is known, is painted in a much more restrained pose and costume. For the contemporary viewer, the lemon in her hand would have held many layers of significance. As an expensive imported luxury, it could be understood as a sign of the couple's wealth. However, the lemon was also used as a symbol for the vanity of earthly pleasures; the lemon’s peel is tantalizingly bright but the flesh is sour, just as luxury is externally enticing, but would lead to a bitter end in God’s judgment. If the lemon is understood in this way, Maria’s portrait might have been intended to temper that of her husband's. Given their relatively small size, these portraits were probably designed to be displayed privately and the vanitas message would thus have served as a reminder to the couple to reflect on a life beyond their current wealth and position.
We are grateful to Prof. Dr. Rudi Ekkart for confirming the attribution of the present works and recognising them as the lost originals, after first hand inspection.