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Lot Essay
Christ preaching or ‘La Petite Tombe’ is the smallest and last of Rembrandt’s great, multi-figure compositions of scenes from the Life of Christ. It was created about eight years after the famous Christ healing the Sick (‘The Hundred Guilder Print’) and at about the same time or just after Rembrandt had completed work on his two most radical and ambitious endeavours in printmaking, Christ crucified between the two Thieves (‘The Three Crosses’) and Christ presented to the People (‘Ecce Homo’) (see lots 19 & 20, Old Masters Part I)
We can only speculate why Rembrandt, at this point in his career, decided to make a print of a similarly important subject, Christ preaching, on a more modest scale. Perhaps he was disheartened by the effort his two monumental drypoints - ‘The Three Crosses’ and ‘Ecce Homo’ – had required to create and print, and disappointed by the financial gains they had brought. It may have felt reasonable and commercially viable to apply his recent experiences and lessons learned to a more manageable project: a smaller plate, without the need for extra-large and expensive sheets of paper or vellum - and with drypoint, but without relying entirely on it and having to cope with is transience.
There may have been another, very practical instigation for the creation of this print: it could have been a commission. The etching’s nickname ‘La Petite Tombe’ derives from the description of the plate in Clement de Jonghe’s estate inventory, who had later come into possession of the plate. This title was then adopted by Gersaint in his first methodical catalogue of Rembrandt’s prints of 1751, and has stuck ever since. This is clearly a misunderstanding, for the print does not depict a ‘little tomb’. The description in de Jonghe’s inventory was probably an abbreviation of ‘ La Tombe’s small print’ and thus referred to the either Nicolaes or Pieter de la Tombe, who both had relations with Rembrandt. It seems likely that one or the other de la Tombe owned or commissioned the plate.
Whatever the circumstances of its conception, Christ preaching is more finished and unified, more controlled and balanced than the aforementioned, larger prints. The figure of Christ is imposing enough and his listeners numerous, yet the whole scene feels intimate and engaging. Rembrandt achieved this by setting it within a confined space, yet giving it depth by allowing a distant view through the gateway. By arranging the crowd in an almost complete circle, only leaving a gap in the front, the viewer becomes part of Christ’s audience. This sense of proximity and immediacy is further heightened by the care with which Rembrandt has depicted the individual figures. Some, in particular the man seated on the left and the older one directly behind him, have the veracity of true portraits.
The child lying in the foreground, oblivious to the words of Jesus, is an endearing detail, but also an artistic device: it adds an element of ‘real life’ to the event and brings it into the here and now. It is furthermore self-referential allusion the myth of artistic genius: the gifted child, inexorably drawing in the sand.
The present example is a brilliant impression with beautiful contrasts of light and shade and a great sense of depth, printing with rich burr in the folds of Christ’s cloak and elsewhere. Nicholas Stogdon particularly noted ‘lines of drypoint following the curve of the archway […] charged with ink but quite distinct, a feature characteristic of the very best early pulls…’ (Stogdon, no. 31, p. 44).
We can only speculate why Rembrandt, at this point in his career, decided to make a print of a similarly important subject, Christ preaching, on a more modest scale. Perhaps he was disheartened by the effort his two monumental drypoints - ‘The Three Crosses’ and ‘Ecce Homo’ – had required to create and print, and disappointed by the financial gains they had brought. It may have felt reasonable and commercially viable to apply his recent experiences and lessons learned to a more manageable project: a smaller plate, without the need for extra-large and expensive sheets of paper or vellum - and with drypoint, but without relying entirely on it and having to cope with is transience.
There may have been another, very practical instigation for the creation of this print: it could have been a commission. The etching’s nickname ‘La Petite Tombe’ derives from the description of the plate in Clement de Jonghe’s estate inventory, who had later come into possession of the plate. This title was then adopted by Gersaint in his first methodical catalogue of Rembrandt’s prints of 1751, and has stuck ever since. This is clearly a misunderstanding, for the print does not depict a ‘little tomb’. The description in de Jonghe’s inventory was probably an abbreviation of ‘ La Tombe’s small print’ and thus referred to the either Nicolaes or Pieter de la Tombe, who both had relations with Rembrandt. It seems likely that one or the other de la Tombe owned or commissioned the plate.
Whatever the circumstances of its conception, Christ preaching is more finished and unified, more controlled and balanced than the aforementioned, larger prints. The figure of Christ is imposing enough and his listeners numerous, yet the whole scene feels intimate and engaging. Rembrandt achieved this by setting it within a confined space, yet giving it depth by allowing a distant view through the gateway. By arranging the crowd in an almost complete circle, only leaving a gap in the front, the viewer becomes part of Christ’s audience. This sense of proximity and immediacy is further heightened by the care with which Rembrandt has depicted the individual figures. Some, in particular the man seated on the left and the older one directly behind him, have the veracity of true portraits.
The child lying in the foreground, oblivious to the words of Jesus, is an endearing detail, but also an artistic device: it adds an element of ‘real life’ to the event and brings it into the here and now. It is furthermore self-referential allusion the myth of artistic genius: the gifted child, inexorably drawing in the sand.
The present example is a brilliant impression with beautiful contrasts of light and shade and a great sense of depth, printing with rich burr in the folds of Christ’s cloak and elsewhere. Nicholas Stogdon particularly noted ‘lines of drypoint following the curve of the archway […] charged with ink but quite distinct, a feature characteristic of the very best early pulls…’ (Stogdon, no. 31, p. 44).