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Lot Essay
When this portrait of Thomas Haaringh was offered in an auction in London in 1825, it was described as ‘rare, a fine early impression on parchment, producing the effect of a Picture’. What the cataloguer at the time so succinctly expressed is that the image, as a result of being on vellum or parchment, looks more like a painting than a print.
In his later years as a printmaker, from around 1655 onwards, Rembrandt increasing experimented with printing on different papers and supports. On occasion he printed a few important subjects, including the first state of ‘The Three Crosses’ (see the note for The Three Crosses), on vellum. Made from goat, sheep or calf skin, this was an antiquated material that had been used extensively in the production of manuscripts up to the end of the 15thcentury, but rendered more or less obsolete with the rapidly increased manufacture and distribution of paper in the 16th century. In Rembrandt’s time, vellum was mainly used for important state or legal documents. As a support for printing, vellum was an unusual choice, since the smooth and glassy surface of the polished skin is far less absorbent than paper. As a result, the ink sits differently on the surface, lending the image an almost liquid, wash-like appearance. Rembrandt used vellum mostly for prints executed with drypoint, which would print with rich burr - the fine metal barbs caused by the drypoint needle scratching directly into the copper plate, which catch ink and leave blurred, velvety marks on the print. As a consequence of printing a densely worked drypoint plate onto vellum, as is the case here, the image is almost non-linear. In the present impression, this magnificent portrait is largely made up of tonal areas in finest shades of grey and black, with a few brighter highlights, such as the sitter’s right hand, collar, the left side of his face and his wispy white hair. The overall effect is indeed that of an exquisite little grisaille painting.
Since 1617 until his death, Thomas Jacobsz. Haaringh (circa 1586-1660), was the Concierge or chief administrator of the Amsterdam Town Hall, a post which included responsibilities as Bailiff to the Court of Insolvents. It was in this role that he was in charge of the bankruptcy proceedings and sales of Rembrandt’s possessions following his bankruptcy in 1656. Prior to his declaration of insolvency in 1656, Rembrandt had tried to raise some funds by holding an auction of objects from his collection in 1655 at the Keizerskron pub in Amsterdam. It was Thomas Haaringh’s younger cousin Pieter who acted as the auctioneer. We can assume that Rembrandt had already known the Haaringhs before his financial difficulties caught up with him, especially the older, Thomas, who was a collector of drawing and prints. It is however unlikely to be a coincidence that Rembrandt produced a printed portrait of each of them in the year 1655, as it became increasingly clear that he was unable to repay his debts on the house in Sint Anthoniesstraat. Perhaps he wanted to ingratiate himself to the two men who were to have a significant influence on his pecuniary circumstances, perhaps he simply struck up a friendship with them. It is also possible that they themselves commissioned these portrait prints as a last, friendly gesture to provide some income for the artist.
Whatever the circumstances of the creation of this portrait, Rembrandt decided to execute it almost entirely in drypoint, and it would have been clear to him that the plate could never be printed in great numbers (see Althaus, 2005, no. 91, p. 212). It seems therefore very likely that this portrait was a personal tribute or commission, pulled only in a few impressions to be given to the sitter, some friends and collectors. This is corroborated by the rarity of the ‘Old Haaringh’, which in early impressions is almost unobtainable. The first two states exist in only one impression each, both on Japan paper (Albertina, Vienna; and Bibliothèque National, Paris). Of the third state, a few impressions on Japan paper are known, but only three on vellum, including the present example. The other two are at the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, and the Collection Dutuit, Paris. Eugène Dutuit (1807-1886) himself, as one of the earlier cataloguers of this print noted, considered this print as ‘le chef-d’oeuvre des portraits gravés par le maître’, and it is – alongside the famous, yet even more elusive portrait of Arnout Tholinx - undeniable one of his greatest portraits in the print medium. In the present impression on vellum, in which the image seems to hover on the surface, it has an extraordinary, ghost-like vivacity and presence. Only a small print, it has the haunting quality found in some of the finest painted portraits by the artist.
In his later years as a printmaker, from around 1655 onwards, Rembrandt increasing experimented with printing on different papers and supports. On occasion he printed a few important subjects, including the first state of ‘The Three Crosses’ (see the note for The Three Crosses), on vellum. Made from goat, sheep or calf skin, this was an antiquated material that had been used extensively in the production of manuscripts up to the end of the 15thcentury, but rendered more or less obsolete with the rapidly increased manufacture and distribution of paper in the 16th century. In Rembrandt’s time, vellum was mainly used for important state or legal documents. As a support for printing, vellum was an unusual choice, since the smooth and glassy surface of the polished skin is far less absorbent than paper. As a result, the ink sits differently on the surface, lending the image an almost liquid, wash-like appearance. Rembrandt used vellum mostly for prints executed with drypoint, which would print with rich burr - the fine metal barbs caused by the drypoint needle scratching directly into the copper plate, which catch ink and leave blurred, velvety marks on the print. As a consequence of printing a densely worked drypoint plate onto vellum, as is the case here, the image is almost non-linear. In the present impression, this magnificent portrait is largely made up of tonal areas in finest shades of grey and black, with a few brighter highlights, such as the sitter’s right hand, collar, the left side of his face and his wispy white hair. The overall effect is indeed that of an exquisite little grisaille painting.
Since 1617 until his death, Thomas Jacobsz. Haaringh (circa 1586-1660), was the Concierge or chief administrator of the Amsterdam Town Hall, a post which included responsibilities as Bailiff to the Court of Insolvents. It was in this role that he was in charge of the bankruptcy proceedings and sales of Rembrandt’s possessions following his bankruptcy in 1656. Prior to his declaration of insolvency in 1656, Rembrandt had tried to raise some funds by holding an auction of objects from his collection in 1655 at the Keizerskron pub in Amsterdam. It was Thomas Haaringh’s younger cousin Pieter who acted as the auctioneer. We can assume that Rembrandt had already known the Haaringhs before his financial difficulties caught up with him, especially the older, Thomas, who was a collector of drawing and prints. It is however unlikely to be a coincidence that Rembrandt produced a printed portrait of each of them in the year 1655, as it became increasingly clear that he was unable to repay his debts on the house in Sint Anthoniesstraat. Perhaps he wanted to ingratiate himself to the two men who were to have a significant influence on his pecuniary circumstances, perhaps he simply struck up a friendship with them. It is also possible that they themselves commissioned these portrait prints as a last, friendly gesture to provide some income for the artist.
Whatever the circumstances of the creation of this portrait, Rembrandt decided to execute it almost entirely in drypoint, and it would have been clear to him that the plate could never be printed in great numbers (see Althaus, 2005, no. 91, p. 212). It seems therefore very likely that this portrait was a personal tribute or commission, pulled only in a few impressions to be given to the sitter, some friends and collectors. This is corroborated by the rarity of the ‘Old Haaringh’, which in early impressions is almost unobtainable. The first two states exist in only one impression each, both on Japan paper (Albertina, Vienna; and Bibliothèque National, Paris). Of the third state, a few impressions on Japan paper are known, but only three on vellum, including the present example. The other two are at the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, and the Collection Dutuit, Paris. Eugène Dutuit (1807-1886) himself, as one of the earlier cataloguers of this print noted, considered this print as ‘le chef-d’oeuvre des portraits gravés par le maître’, and it is – alongside the famous, yet even more elusive portrait of Arnout Tholinx - undeniable one of his greatest portraits in the print medium. In the present impression on vellum, in which the image seems to hover on the surface, it has an extraordinary, ghost-like vivacity and presence. Only a small print, it has the haunting quality found in some of the finest painted portraits by the artist.