by ARTHUR K. WHEELOCK, JR.

ANTHONY VAN DYCK’s Self-portrait from the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York (cat. no.12; Fig.71), was the first painting that one encountered in Van Dyck: The Anatomy of Portraiture at the Frick Collection, New York (to 5th June)1 It is not difficult to figure out why. What other painter ever posed with such graceful nonchalance, or sprezzatura, with hands arranged ‘just-so’, their easy equilibrium playing off against the master’s direct and penetrating gaze. The broken brushstrokes, the gentle curls of reddishbrown hair falling gracefully over his forehead and the voluminous black robe all create the sense of a living, breathing being. Through this painting we grasp the visual power that Van Dyck exerts, and understand why he is considered one of the greatest portrait painters who ever lived.

Van Dyck’s achievements as a portraitist have largely defined our perception of his artistic genius, far more so than his expressive biblical and mythological paintings. His portraits appealed to Henry Clay Frick, who eagerly collected not only them but also those of eighteenth-century British artists who emulated his style. Six of Frick’s magnificent Van Dyck paintings formed the core of this exhibition, among them the pendants of Frans Snyders and his wife (nos.10 and 11); a full-length Genoese portrait of an elegant antique sculpture held by two swarthy men. Another such masterpiece is Van Dyck’s portrait of Nicholas Lanier (no.21), executed in Antwerp in 1627. Lanier, personal musician to Charles I, helped procure the Gonzaga collection for the king. The portrait conveys a remarkable sense of spontaneity despite the fact that Van Dyck spent seven days painting it. Van Dyck’s English period was highlighted by two important loans of paintings related to the Royal family. In one of these, from Kromĕříž (no.68), Charles I and his Queen Henrietta Maria tenderly exchange gifts symbolic of victory and peace, a bay wreath and an olive sprig. The large engraving (no.67) that Robert van Voerst made after this composition indicates the painting’s significance for the Stuart court. Political propaganda also underlies the sumptuous large portrait of Queen Henrietta Maria with her dwarf Sir Jeffrey Hudson (no.72). Paintings such as these were sent to royal favourites to ensure their loyalty to the crown. 

As was amply demonstrated in this exhibition, Van Dyck’s significance as a portraitist is not limited to his paintings. He was also unmatched as a draughtsman and etcher. Many of his drawings are preparatory studies for paintings, a few of which were exhibited near the finished works. Among these was a study for Cardinal Bentivoglio (no.14), which the artist decided not to use for the painting, opting instead for a more dynamic pose. On the other hand, his vigorous study for Lanier, executed in black and white chalk on blue paper (no.20), allies closely with that in the painting. Van Dyck’s chalk drawing of the Queen (no.71) is primarily a costume study that he carefully followed in his painting. Another informative juxtaposition occurred with his intriguing François Langlois, playing a musette (nos.95 and 96), which was here dated, somewhat improbably, to 1641. In the painting, Van Dyck transformed the sitter’s reflective gaze in the drawing to that of a smiling, vivacious individual.

Because of spatial restrictions at the Frick, most of the drawings, etchings and oil-sketches were exhibited separately from the paintings, a division that unfortunately counteracted the admirable effort to integrate Van Dyck’s approach to portraiture in different media. Nevertheless, the comprehensive selection of small-scaled works in the downstairs galleries allowed insights into the artist’s career not evident in the two large exhibition galleries on the main floor, particularly the close connections that existed between Van Dyck and Rubens in Antwerp in the 1610s. Here, for example, one found two small early Van Dyck self-portraits (nos.2 and 3) that were once attributed to Rubens, and a compelling juxtaposition of two drawings of a Jesuit priest dressed in a Chinese costume, one by Van Dyck and one by Rubens (nos.7 and 8). Among the many freely executed chalk studies that Van Dyck made during the 1630s are two preparatory drawings from the British Museum (nos.80 and 81) for his portrait of James Stuart,c.1633 (Metropolitan Museum of Art). The sheet depicting Stuart’s loyal greyhound was one of the boldest expressions of Van Dyck’s brilliance as a draughtsman in the entire exhibition (Fig.72).

Van Dyck’s most carefully rendered portrait drawings and oil-sketches relate to the Iconographie, a compilation of prints of his friends and artists, military commanders and nobles. When he began working on this series in the late 1620s he made his own etchings, including his famous self-portrait (no.34), but in England he eventually collaborated with other printmakers. This important and influential aspect of his portrait production was extremely well presented in the exhibition, and is featured in a separate section of the catalogue.

The handsome catalogue, by Stijn Alsteens and Adam Eaker, with contributions by An Van Camp, Xavier F. Salomon and Bert Watteeuw, includes excellent essays and entries. Thoughtful discussions of style, attribution, dating and provenance history appear throughout. One aspect of the catalogue that is confusing, however, is the sequence of entries: they are not always arranged chronologically. The section designated ‘Second Antwerp Period’, the period between 1627 and 1631, includes works that Van Dyck made in Brussels in 1634, after he had been in England. In the section devoted to the ‘English Period’, entries on Van Dyck’s portraits of members of the Royal family are grouped together before those for other English sitters, even though their years of execution overlap. Despite these quirks in organisation, the catalogue is a welcome and important contribution to the Van Dyck literature, and a worthy complement to this outstanding exhibition.

1 Catalogue: Van Dyck: The Anatomy of Portraiture. By Stijn Alsteens, Adam Eaker, An Van Camp, Xavier F. Salomon and Bert Watteeuw. 308 pp. incl. 261 col. ills. (Frick Collection, New York, and Yale University Press, New Haven and London, 2016), $65/£40. ISBN 978–0–300–21205–1.