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Lot Essay
Among the ravel of jewels, tomes and draperies, the sullen murmur of musical instruments can still be heard performing the score of a foregone melody. With its familiar grammar of visual symbols, this vanitas invites the observer to contemplate the brevity of human life, the frailty of man and the vanity of all worldly things.
Painted by Edwaert Collier, whose self-portrait peers at us from the lower right of the canvas, this picture demonstrates the artist’s unusual playfulness and curious eye for detail. Born in the Southern Netherlandish town of Breda in around 1640, Collier spent much of his life between Leiden and London. Though he produced the majority of his vanitas still-lifes during his residence in Leiden (1667-1693), this work dates to his early years in Haarlem and shows the possible influence of Vincent Laurensz. van der Vinne and David Bailly. The sophisticated composition and technical virtuosity suggest that it was a significant commission. The only comparable pictures in terms of scale are also early works, including that in the Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam (inv. no. A3471), and the picture in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York (inv. no. 71.19), both also dated 1662. Only two further similar works by Collier date to that year, one of which was sold at Sotheby’s, New York, 31 January 2013, lot 68, for $506,500.
Through an arrangement of picturesque disorder, Collier unveils a myriad of emblems that draw the viewer in to scrutinise each symbolic ingredient: the inverted green-glass roemer and silver tazza balance precariously at the edge of the table with transient allusion, recalling the still-lifes of Willem Claesz Heda and Pieter Claesz, while the ephemeral threads of time snap with the strings of the nearby violin; the nautilus shell serves as a replacement to the more ubiquitous image of the human skull, acting as a reminder of the inevitability of death, or memento mori; the terrestrial globe and treasure box evoke the futility of riches and worldly accomplishment, while the creeping ivy nearby represents resurrection and eternal life. At the centre of the composition, a slip of paper bears the words ‘vanitantum et omina vanitas’ (‘vanity of vanities, all is vanity’ Ecclesiastes 1:2- 3), underlining the theme of the picture.
Among the musical instruments lies a score by Jacob van Eyck entitled Der Fluyten Lust-Hof (The Flute of the Garden of Pleasure, published in 1646; see Grijp, op. cit., pp. 37-43), opened at a variation on the melody Questa Dolce Sirena by Gastoldi. Alluding to the sirens of classical mythology, whose voices lure sailors to their demise, the musical notation all but resuscitates Gastoldi’s lingering tune, and like a siren’s call, entices the viewer to delve into the picture’s hidden messages, which are both seductive and foreboding.
Painted by Edwaert Collier, whose self-portrait peers at us from the lower right of the canvas, this picture demonstrates the artist’s unusual playfulness and curious eye for detail. Born in the Southern Netherlandish town of Breda in around 1640, Collier spent much of his life between Leiden and London. Though he produced the majority of his vanitas still-lifes during his residence in Leiden (1667-1693), this work dates to his early years in Haarlem and shows the possible influence of Vincent Laurensz. van der Vinne and David Bailly. The sophisticated composition and technical virtuosity suggest that it was a significant commission. The only comparable pictures in terms of scale are also early works, including that in the Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam (inv. no. A3471), and the picture in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York (inv. no. 71.19), both also dated 1662. Only two further similar works by Collier date to that year, one of which was sold at Sotheby’s, New York, 31 January 2013, lot 68, for $506,500.
Through an arrangement of picturesque disorder, Collier unveils a myriad of emblems that draw the viewer in to scrutinise each symbolic ingredient: the inverted green-glass roemer and silver tazza balance precariously at the edge of the table with transient allusion, recalling the still-lifes of Willem Claesz Heda and Pieter Claesz, while the ephemeral threads of time snap with the strings of the nearby violin; the nautilus shell serves as a replacement to the more ubiquitous image of the human skull, acting as a reminder of the inevitability of death, or memento mori; the terrestrial globe and treasure box evoke the futility of riches and worldly accomplishment, while the creeping ivy nearby represents resurrection and eternal life. At the centre of the composition, a slip of paper bears the words ‘vanitantum et omina vanitas’ (‘vanity of vanities, all is vanity’ Ecclesiastes 1:2- 3), underlining the theme of the picture.
Among the musical instruments lies a score by Jacob van Eyck entitled Der Fluyten Lust-Hof (The Flute of the Garden of Pleasure, published in 1646; see Grijp, op. cit., pp. 37-43), opened at a variation on the melody Questa Dolce Sirena by Gastoldi. Alluding to the sirens of classical mythology, whose voices lure sailors to their demise, the musical notation all but resuscitates Gastoldi’s lingering tune, and like a siren’s call, entices the viewer to delve into the picture’s hidden messages, which are both seductive and foreboding.