Chap. 1. The subject of this study is the biblical portrait historié, a portrait type in which a person is depicted as a figure from the bible, as it flourished in the Netherlands of the 16th and 17th centuries. In art history, the term portrait historié is used for a subset of both history painting and portraiture in which an individual is portrayed in the guise of a historical, religious, mythological or legendary figure. The description “portrait in the guise of a biblical figure” can cover a wide variety of works of art. A person may be portrayed as protagonist of a biblical story (as David with the head of Goliath) or as biblical figure in a non-biblical narrative scene (as Luke the Evangelist painting the Virgin). The individual(s) depicted could have a main role, actively or passively engaging in the biblical act or hallowed proceding, or appear as an anonymous, secondary but relevant figure in the margins of a multifigured painting. The specific role of the sitter can be identified by analysing the iconography (the sitter’s attributes and/or the narrative context). The term portrait historié is an ambiguous one since it can be used both for a work of art itself, whether it be a proper history piece or an autonomous portrait, and for a portrait figure that is inserted in a narrative scene. The latter portraits are also known as cryptoportraits (i.e. hidden portraits), although these portraits are in no way intended to remain hidden. As an alternative, the description “integrated portraits historiés” is introduced here for those non-autonomous portraits.
Chap. 2. A specific Dutch terminology for portraits historiés did not exist in the 16th and 17th centuries. In inventories of estates one finds descriptions of subjects of the paintings which mention the individuals who figure in them. The element of identification was often neglected and not elaborated further than in terms of ‘as’ or ‘in the guise of’. In contemporary art theory and other writings, the attention was usually drawn to the manner of apparel and other formal characteristics (portrait à l’antique). Partly due to the lack of terminological and artistic differentiation, biblical portraits historiés seem to approximate related image types such as pastoral portraiture, in which individuals are dressed up as shepherds in antique dress. In many cases one could speak of “genre transition”. It was not until the 18th century that the term portrait historié was introduced for allegorical and narrative portraits, in which the person portrayed could play a historical role. In addition, there are many “borderline cases” that partially meet the definition of the portrait type, such as oriental tronies and recognizable models that have been “portrayed” from/after life but are not intended as portraits.
Chap. 3. Because of the multitude of manifestations, it is difficult to reconstruct the coming into being of the biblical portrait historié. Different lines of development can be followed within classical and christian art. This religious type of disguised portraiture can only be partly explained by ideas about incarnation, christomimetes, and euhemerism. The identification with a biblical figure can perhaps be best interpreted through typology and anagogè. In religious art, the portrait historié developed from the donor portrait into the “portrait in assistance”, in which the patrons increasingly find their way to the centre of the composition, passively taking part in the sacred history. In the course of time, these passive witnesses gain a more active rol. An important group of works are portraits of burghers in Passion scenes: a specific kind of religious identification that can be connected with the ideas of Modern Devotion. When in later time the religious reform movements gained foothold in the Netherlands – on both sides of the denominational spectrum – it was mainly the epitaph (memorietafel) from which the autonomous biblical portrait historié developed.
With the coming of the Reformation, the dichotomy between ecclesiastical art and (civic) private art further widened but also resulted in the increase of religious paintings in secular spaces. Nevertheless, autonomous (non-devotional) portraits historiés with Old Testament subjects were already being painted for private homes from the last quarter of the 15th century onwards (e.g. David and Abigail by Hugo van der Goes). Looking across the borders, in France and Germany, one also finds precursors of the autonomous biblical group portraits that first appeared in the southern Netherlands in the last quarter of the 16th century. The diffusion of Reformation ideas also contributed to the rise of the portrait type. In Reformation exegesis the method of humanist allegoresis of scripture was transformed and analogies between biblical and contemporary events and individuals could also be understood in a more literal sense. As before in the Modern Devotion, the anagogy may also have played an important role, since according to the anagogical argument the image, as a substitute for a textual source, could elevate the beholder’s mind to immaterial realities and even a partial or complete union with God. Calvin’s more down-to-earth approach of art and preference for historical representations with a didactic function may also have had an indirect influence on the preferences of citizens in the Dutch Republic. Although portraits were deemed admissible in his view, het was critical of images ‘without meaning’: as a consequence portraits historiés would meet the requirements of art he had envisioned.
Chap. 4. The biblical portrait historié turned out to be particularly useful for transferring religious propaganda because complex theological concepts could be visualised and made intelligible for the average beholder through well-known religious imagery. There are ample examples of political imagery, such as Lucas D’Heere’s Philip II in the guise of king Solomon with the Queen of Sheba bringing gifts as an image of complacency of the Netherlands. Counter-Reformation iconography is the basis of Pieter Pourbus’s triptych of Viglius ab Aytta. The donor himself, political figures and church reformers appear on the central panel amidst the hebrew scribes taking part in the discussion with the 12-year-old Christ in the Temple. The side panels of Viglius’ triptych show prototypes of Christian baptism: on the left the Circumcision of Christ and on the right the Baptism of Christ. The biblical debate depicted on the central panel is to be understood as an image of the ongoing theological dispute about the sacrament of baptism, in which the contemporary figures participated. The side panels are meant to visualise the catholic doctrine of distinction between child baptism and adult baptism of converts.
Paintings of the Last Supper proved particularly suitable for the insertment of portraits, of both isolated individuals and of whole groups. In early sixteenth-century Lutheran altarpieces, the Last Supper was used to represent church reformers and fellow believers as substitutes and successors of the apostles. Individuals portrayed could visually partake of the Supper of the Lord, as in the real life ritual, and make God’s grace outwardly observable to other believers. In the Catholic Church too, the distinction between the painted historical event and the living liturgical practice was cancelled, and the separation between the two acts blurred by being depicted as attending this pivotal moment. Furthermore, by representing a specific iconography of the Cena one could adhere to particular opinions on the Christian rite. In Gortzius Geldorp’s Last Supper (1576) with Louvain theologians as apostles, the inscription on the chalice refers to the theological dispute about John 6 and the Tridentine interpretation of the eucharist. Depictions of the Last Supper from the Northern Netherlands with portraits of contemporary artists, rhetoricians and prominent figures, such as Coornhert, also served as a means to propagate Protestant views on the Communion and reject the transubstantation or the actual presence of Christ in the Lord’s Supper. In addition to portraits as apostles in Last Supper scenes, there is also a long tradition of (semi-autonomous) self-portraits in the guise John the Apostle and Luke the Evangelist. The latter custom probably started with Rogier van de Weyden’s self-portrait as the first Christian painter in Lukas painting the Madonna. The less obvious identification with John can be explained by the story of Lycomedes.
Chap. 5. In the Northern Netherlands, the biblical portrait historié for sacral and devotional purposes was contextually separated from the secular variant for domestic use, notwithstanding its religious subject matter. However, also after the dissolution of the catholic institutions, one could still find portraits on altarpieces, such Petrus Purmerent’s portrait as apostle on Wouter Crabeth’s Assumption of Mary (1628) for a clandestine church in Gouda. Although Catholics in the Republic had preference for New Testament scenes and marian depictions, Old Testament subjects could also be used for private portraits (e.g. Moyaert’s portrait of his own family in Abraham in Shechem). More conservative Roman Catholics deliberately held on to specific art formats such as the triptych, even for their private depictions (e.g. Gerrit Pietersz.’s Adoration with shepherds with the Stuyver-Den Otter family). In the Spanish Netherlands, on the other hand, portraits historiés still appeared unabatedly in eclesiastical art, mostly on epitaphs and altarpieces, although there were attempts to curtail disguised portraits in sacral art. From the sixteenth century onwards, portraits in the guise of religious figures were increasingly held in abhorrence and condemned by theologians as Molanus, Borromeo, and Paleotti. Profanity in religious art was prohibited by the Council of Trent, and as a result restrictions on the appearance of portraits in religious art were imposed by local church authorities in the Southern Netherlands. A ban on portraits on middle panels of altarpieces was issued at the Provincial Council of Mechlin (1607) and subsequent synods and decrees tried to put an end to the illegal dipiction of private persons, especially of those who did not contribute to a painting as donors. However, these decrees were rarely followed and clandestine portraits still were being painted in the centre of altarpieces. An additional problem – also for decanal control – was that many portraits could not be recognized as such, since it was difficult to discern between realistic models (sometimes recognisable as family members of a painter, as is the case with the many religious figures by Rubens) and “actual” portraits.
Chap. 6. The dawn of the Golden Age of the autonomous portrait historié started in the last quarter of the sixteenth century in Antwerp with the painting Moses and the Israelites of 1574 by Maerten de Vos, commissioned by Peeter Panhuys and Gillis Hooftman. The Panhuys panel serves as a case study for determining how the choice of a subject relates to the faith of the persons portrayed in a biblical portrait historié. Presented is a partly new identification of the sitters and a new assessment of their religious persuasions. Although the individuals portrayed have been connected to the ‘spiritualistic’ movement of the Family of Love in earlier studies, no attempt was made to interpret the painting in the light of this connection. The Family attracted both Protestants and Catholics. The iconography of this portrait historié, also points in the direction of Lutheran interpretation and seems to confirm the (otherwise established) Lutheran sympathies of Gillis Hooftman and Peeter Panhuys. Moreover, the specific formulation of the Ten Commandments indicates the consultation of a Lutheran Bible translation. This observation seems remarkable since the painting was considered distinctly Calvinist by others.
Biblical portraits historiés, such as the Panhuys panel, may be understood as visualisation of the communio sanctorum or saintly community. One could argue that portraits historiés, in which one projects oneself in the position of protagonists or acting characters of a biblical story, are meant to depict an act of godliness. In a biblical portrait historié the person portrayed is depicted as if he were experiencing an institutional moment of faith at first hand, which seems to be closely connected with the desire to be part of christian tradition. Unlike in the Catholic Church, in Calvinism religious tradition has less to do with the continuation of the ecclesiastical office than with the passing on of the divine gift and the internalised continuation of belief through the calling to the ministry, as inspired by the Holy Spirit. An example of this is Martin Faber’s Institution of the diaconate (1617) with calvinist reformers from Emden.
Jacob Willemsz. I Delff portrayed his family in The Reconciliation of Jacob and Esau (1584) with two of his sons as the main figures. The reason for the choice of subject should not be sought in a personal predilections or narrative analogy, such of the settlement of a family quarrel. The choice of subject finds its explanation in the ongoing theological debate about the doctrine of predestination in relation to original sin and election, for which the story served as an example. The Delft minister Arent Croese was closely involved in this debate, that was also often waged in public places, for example in a Delft inn. The fact that Jacob and Esau each went their own way was predetermined before their birth, which John Calvin, in his Institution of 1539, regarded as illustrative of the nullity of their merits in God’s eyes. The story tells not so much about how people should relate to each other but how to situate their own behaviour within a divine context. The Old Testament story of election (as well as its Pauline reading), seems to focus primarily on the individual in spite of its theological interconnection to the corrupt masses and types of people (chosen and rejected). The story can be seen as a legitimation to be represented as a rigtheous believer who does not believe in sanctification through good works but renders himself to God’s judgment.
Karel van Mander’s Crossing of the Jordan (1605) shows the portraits of Duyffgen Roch and Isaack van Gherwen among the Israëlites. Both were Remonstrants, but Van Gherwen was originally a Mennonite, just like the painter. Van Gherwen’s family left their birthplace Den Bosch for religious persecution, which could explain the subject: like the Israelites who had to leave Egypt, many refugees reached “their” Promised Land; the Republic. The painting dates two years after the third unsuccessful siege of ’s-Hertogenbosch and the draining of the river seems to anticipate a tactic that conquered the city in 1629. One should also not play down the role of the painter in the choice of subject of the painting that was probably meant as wedding gift. The crossing of the Jordan had a specific mennonite meaning, since it was traditionally seen as a foreshadowing of Christian baptism. Van Mander wrote a poem on the painting, originally inscribed on the frame, in which he compared the passage through the Jordan with the path of life: the way of all flesh, a common topos in Mennonite literature. Several lines of poetry from Van Mander’s Gulde Harpe (1605) seem to be especially tailored to the history piece. In it he alludes to the “Levitical priesthood”, a reference to a passage by Philips Schabaelje, which in its turn should be connected to Van Mander’s self-portrait as one of the Levites carrying the Ark across the river.
Chap. 7. In a secular and domestic environment, the most common theme used for portraits historiés was Christ suffering the children to come unto him. The oldest, known combination of a family portrait with this blessing scene is an epitaph from 1557 that Lucas II Cranach painted in memory of Dr. Caspar Cruciger. The earliest known portrait historié with this subject from the Netherlands was painted by Hieronymus Francken 1602 and probably depicts the De Witte family. Werner van de Valckert’s Christ blessing the children (1620) depicts Michiel Poppen, his wife and their children. Although the family Poppen descend from a Protestant lineage, there are indications that other relatives, who switched to the Catholic faith, were also intended to be depicted, such as Dirck Wuytiers, whose portrait apparently remained unfinished. The depiction of the first newly built Protestant church in Amsterdam, the Zuiderkerk, in the background, however, strongly points towards a Protestant interpretation, since it characterizes Amsterdam as a new Jerusalem.
Two depictions of Christ suffering the children to come unto him by Cornelis Cornelisz. van Haarlem show integrated portraits; one is dated 1633 and portrays the governors or regents of the Holy Ghost Infirmary, who are identified individually for the first time; the other of 1614 depicts a matron. In 1646, Cornelis Danckerts painted the children of the Bosch family from The Hague as being blessed by Christ. This painting makes clear that in Dutch art the focus has clearly shifted from the mothers around Christ to the family as a household. Despite the many figures, Danckert’s monumental painting has a striking intimacy. The religious content is well compatible with its figuration as a family portrait, reducing the distance between the lofty historia and the domestic pétite histoire. The catholic Braems family from Haarlem was also depicted in a monumental portrait historié of the same subject by Jan de Bray (1663). Four portraits of elderly men were added later: either ancestors of the Braems family or governors of the St. Jacobs Godhuis, where the work hung. The inscription on the frame “MEMORES ESTOTE PARENTUM VESTRORUM” (Honour the memory of your parents) could refer to the Vulgate text and/or Calvin’s commentary of Hebrews 13: 7-9 (“Remember your leaders”). It is possible that the Calvinist ‘supervisors’ of this former Catholic Godshuis have appropriated the theme of the family portrait and have used the inscription for their own message.
The frequent appearance of the theme since the 1540s has been associated with the theological dispute over infant baptism between Lutherans and Anabaptists. The dispute about the age of baptism had its repercussions on the representation of this subject (particularly the age of persons being blessed). The regenerative value of baptism was recognized by both Luther and Calvin. Paintings in which Protestant families portray their children under Christ’s blessing are to be understood as a visualisation of this symbolic renewal of baptism, in order to be resurrected in faith. Similarly, regeneration is the leitmotiv of a 1647 portrait of the family of Ole Worm, a Lutheran Dane of Dutch descent. In portraits of Catholic families, the motive of Christ laying on his hand on the children purposely evoke associations with the Catholic sacrament of the confirmation: which corresponds with the age of the children shown (7-12 years). The pathos generated by the theme of the Christ’s Blessing can also be associated with the theological concept of vivificatio. Spiritual renewal is also central to the Calvinist “theology of sanctification”, and as a form of reflection it could also serve as a substitute for doing “good works”. And by being blessed by Christ the portrayed people become participants of the community of Christ. The greater attention paid to the child in early modern times may also explain the increase of portraits with the subject in general and the popularity among different denominations.
Chap. 8. By depicting their own family in a biblical scene, painters could make a collective testimony of faith on behalf of their relatives, as Jacob I Delff did. This is also the case in Claes Cornelisz. Moyaert’s familyportrait God appears to Abraham in Shechem (1628). The choice of subject can not be explained by the protestant notion of the Republic as Promised Land, since the Moyaert family was Roman Catholic. However, the altar at Shechem, errected in Canaanitic hostile territory, can refer to the “private” Catholic altars that were clandistinely established in Calvinistic cities; also in houses of members of the Moyaert family. The significance of the holy place of Shechem is also important (outside the scope of the episode shown) for the interpretation of the painting. In a pamphlet of 1620, for instance, the partriarch Jacob’s stay at Shechem was allegorically compared to the situation at that time, as a living example of the troubles between the Catholics and Protestants. Allusions on the sacking of the city of Shechem as revenge were also often used in seventeent-century literature.
Aelbert Cuyp’s Meeting of David and Abigail (1635) with Lowys Molenschot and Janneken Rochus as the main protagonists is synthesis of a group portrait, a biblical history and a civic guard painting. Although this type of painting is unique in Cuyp’s oeuvre, the painter had experience with painting group portraits in landscape settings and tronie-like portraits with oriental elements. Lowys Molenschot is depicted as a captain of the militia, his son Rochus as an ensign and his son-in-law Abraham de Gelder as a corporal. The choice of subject can be simply explained by the wish of the client to be portrayed in that military rank. There is, however, another reason for visually merging a contemporary militia with David’s army. The minister Willem Teellinck formulated in his Davids vvapen-tuygh (1622) a biblical analogy, of what was expected of the Dutch citizens, namely to protect State and Church. He explicitly made a comparison with the times of king David and praised the Dutch civic guards, stating that it is allowed to use ordinary means to create a new Israel. In 1655, when the painting was made, the taking up of arms was an up-to-date topic in the context of the Dutch freedom struggle: the Second Northern War had just broken out. Apart from military allusions, the subject of Cuyps painting also reflected great honour on the female members of the family as the wise and virtuous Abigail and her handmaidens.
The only known “regents group portrait” with an Old Testament subject, Elisa refuses the presents of Naaman was painted by Pieter de Grebber of 1637 for the regents of the Haarlem hospital Leprozenhuis (Lepers Asylum). The ominous warning emanating from the biblical painting was meant to protect the regents from fraudulent behaviour and self-enrichment. Volker Manuth correctly identified these portraits as the four regents of the Leprosy House in 1637. Here, they are, for the first time, identified separately on the basis of other portraits. The subject choice may also be explained in the local popularity of the story of Naaman: the humanist Cornelius Schonaeus, rector of the Haarlem Latin School, wrote a biblical comedy titled Naaman (1572). Particularly because of the leprosy theme and the admonishing message, the subject appeared to be particularly suitable for the Leprozenhuis and its administration, but there was another reason. The careers of the portrayed and their families were influenced by the quarrel between Arminianists and Counter-Remonstrant Calvinists. The discussions, centered around the question of predestination, original sin and salvation, could be explained on the basis of the Naaman story. Leprosy was associated with hereditary sins and the pagan Naaman, with his rudimentary faith in the Messiah, was also used by Calvin as a virtuous example and argument for church membership as requirement for salvation.
In 1640 Marinus Lowyssen and his wife Eva Ment were portrayed “in assistance” in Christ and the Canaanite woman by Jacob Backer (1640). The fact that the woman, whose sick daughter is healed by Christ, is an alien woman, a foreigner from outside the Holy Land, makes it message clear: Christ is not only there for Jews, but also for all other nations. The woman asks, as it were, for the crumbs that fall from Israel’s table, so that she can partake in eternal salvation. The behaviour of the Canaanite woman is presented as a good example and counterpart of the haughty actions of the Jews who exluded their parents from the usufruct of goods by declaring them qorban (sacrificial offering), about which Christ reproached the Pharisees, just prior to the meeting with the Canaanite woman. Apart from being illustration of maternal care, it is this implied honouring of one’s parents, that makes the subject suitable for a family portrait. The main theme of the painting is, however, a miraculous cure that is symbolic for justification by faith alone. The breadcrumbs of which the woman speaks also relate to the bread as a symbol for Christ. A loaf is held the couple’s son, while their daughter draws attention to it. That Christ was not exclusively sent to the house of Israel, was also an important fact for the seventeenth-century Dutch who literally portrayed themselves as representatives of a New Israel and also did their own missionary work in the Far East. Interstingly, Eva Ment was entrusted by her first husband J.P. Coen with the godly upbringing of half-European girls in Batavia (Dutch East-Indies), while her later husband Lowyssen also took care of children of V.O.C. servants.
Lowyssen’s likeness was also recognised in Jacob Backer’s Isaac and Rebecca (1640) in the guise of the patriarch Isaac wooing his wife in Gerar. Rebecca, who turns her face away, must be Eva Ment. Absent is Abimelech, who caught the couple in the act and realised they were not siblings. It has been argued that the love scene was kept in a private room since this public display of intimacy would have been considered inappropriate. Marital love and procreation, however, was not seen as something perverse. A presumed moralistic message and postive image of Isaac of Rebecca does not explain why the couple chose biblical portraiture as a pretext for eroticism, or how their promiscuous pose can be reconciled with their Calvinistic background. In the notes of the Statenbijbel the amorous ‘sporting’ (jokken) is explained as ‘making some free but fair gestures’. Luther claimed that the homesick couple comforted each other. Reformed preachers also saw this as a mitigating circumstance. In the light of this, it is interesting that Lowyssen and Ment had met each other, far from home, abroad in India, where they witnessed the flogging of the 12-year-old Saartje Specx, who was punished for making love with the 16-year-old ensign Pieter Cortenhoeff, who was decapitated for this offence. The violent incident also preoccupied the people’s minds back in the Republic because the presumed pledge of marriage between the two had been an argument for acquitting them from prosecution. Possibly the couple Lowyssen-Ment sought connection with the pietistic ideas of the Further Reformation with pastors like Petrus Wittewrongel who argued that marital cohabitation consisted not only of sharing a house and a table, but in particular of the community of the bed.
Chap. 9. Many preachers compared the Reformed Dutch with the biblical Jews and regarded the Republic as the Second Israel. In pamphlets written at the time of the Revolt we find the first equations between the Reformed Church and Jerusalem. For rhetoricians the Dutch Israel also became a commonplace. In the Protestant Republic there was a certain reluctance to use biblical matter for the glorification of still living rulers. Only one proper biblical portrait historié of a stadholder is known: Frederik Hendrik als David by Jacob Gerritsz. Cuyp of 1630. The painting was painted to commemorate the conquest of Den Bosch. Frederik is shown with the head of the slain Goliath. Praise is sung by the personifications of the seven provinces, while the victor is crowned with a laurel wreath by a putto holding a banderole with the text “Gloria in excelsis” that refers to Psalm 98. In light of the third verse of Psalm 98 and John 4:22, Calvin argued that the glory of the Gentiles consists of the incorporation into the sacred lineage of Abraham. The united provinces symbolise the union of all peoples with Israel. By the victory of the “Davidic” Frederik Hendrik on the “Philistine” Spaniards the people of Den Bosch were brought to the true faith whereby they were absorbed in Israel.
The metaphor of the Second Israel served as a safe alternative to the complex concept of election, a cause of constant controversy, and it was also in line with Calvinist views on godliness and the so-called “example tradition” (religious exemplification). In the Republic, Calvin’s doctrine of the convenant was seen as an addition to his doctrine of election and considered essential for the notion of a protestant nation. But the alter-Israel rhetoric was also reversed and used against the authoritarian, theocratic tendencies of orthodox Reformed. The Reformed themselves were also wary that the Dutch people would push their identification with Israel to the edge. It was also not forgotten that Dutch anabaptists in 1534 had proclaimed the kingdom of Zion in Westphalian Münster. Calvin’s clearly draw a dividing line between the covenant and salvation: election in the context of the covenant does not necessarily mean election to salvation.
It has been claimed that the Schrijver family is portrayed in Rembrandt’s Jacob blesses the sons of Joseph (1656). Gary Schwartz assumed that Willem Schrijver was portrayed in the guise of Joseph, and his son Willem the Younger as Ephraim, while Wendela de Graeff was added as Joseph’s wife Asenath. He saw a parallel between the story of Jacob’s youngest grandson, who obtained the rightful inheritance – despite the legitimate claim of his older brother – and the circumstance that Schrijver had come into possession of a considerable capital after the death of his wife. In the Republic, the story of Ephraim and Manasseh often served as a motive for depicting a conflict between figures and nations. The suggestion that the theme in the painting applies to a family feud over the inheritance appears to be strengthened by similar imagery in writings, but more likely the subject matter relates to the national analogy of the Dutch Israel. Three years earlier, a political pamphlet Manasse teegen Ephraim was published which relates to the First Anglo-Dutch War. Apart from this, Dutch Calvinists did not understand the invocation of the patriarchs in Jacob’s prayer for Manasseh and Ephraim as heavenly intercession but as an indirect proof of their own incorporation into Israel. The exchange of birthright was understood as spiritual adoption by which Ephraim and Manasseh were equated with Jacob and both included in the covenant of grace. In the year that the work was painted, in 1656, Willem Schrijver gained an important position in the city council, after he renounced his membership of the Remonstrant Fraternity. If the identification of the portrayed is correct, the painting might serve as symbol of adherence to the reformed church and its doctrine of election. According to Calvin, Jesus, as the Christ, connects the church with Israel. One should not confuse the Calvinistic notions of the Second Israel with philosemitism, as has happened in many art-historical publications in recent years. Calvin writes that the Gentiles have taken the place of Israel. Most preachers understood Zion, God’s vineyard, only as the metaphysical Church of the chosen. This church was not visible to its members, and godliness could only be pursued by means of sanctification. Different motives of the second Israel can be distinguished in biblical portraiture. 1.) God saved the Dutch as well as the Israelites from slavery; 2.) God has chosen this land, as well as Canaan, as the place for his church; 3.) God has given rich blessings to the Dutch; 4.) God has often miraculously delivered the Dutch; 5.) God shows them His mercy for their sins.
Chap. 10. The biblical portrait historié has a complicated relation to Protestant spiritualism. It has been argued that the individual portrayed in portraits historiés “enact a narrative” and “engage the viewer”. These processes have been related to well-known meditational practices in the religious sphere that were derived from other cultural phenomena aimed at creating interaction with the public, such as cathechisms. To have oneself portrayed in miraculous Bible stories was meant to stimulate the imagination and enhance spiritual empathy and to make the biblical matter more comprehensible and down to earth. The connection between typology and “example tradition” was not a specifically Calvinistic affair. For example, similar notions about exemplification and typologies are found in contemporary Mennonite writings, such as the Grooten Emblemata Sacra (1654) by J.P. Schabaelje. Interestingly, the kings of Judea, Assyria and Persia, Greek philosophers and biblical prophets are all portrayed by figures from recent history by the reuse existing portraits. For example, Prophet Habakkuk is represented in the person of Zwingli, and king David is Christian III of Denmark. This identity change was possible because according to Schabaelje’s spirtualistic notion only the quintessence of a figure was relevant. The Emblemata Sacra is also an important trait d’union between the contemporary spiritual reformation and the Protestant spiritualistic discourses in earlier times.
Children had to be instructed by their own parents in the articles of faith. Within sixteenth-century German Lutheranism, paintings were for the first time systematically used for teaching these principles of faith. Portraits historiés may also had paedagogic function in domestic education. The focus on the Christian household in biblical family portraits correlates with the seventeenth-century Pietistic movement of the Further Reformation, that has also been characterized as a ‘family-oriented reform movement’. In Pietistic literature, a godly upbringing was often conneced with the virtuous ars moriendi and guidelines how to deal with death, since large infant mortality caused many parents to be concerned about the salvation of their children. Lambert Doomers’ Samuel in the temple at Shiloh presented to Eli by Hannah (1668) also relates to this concern. The godliness of children also underlies portraits of young boys in the guise of Ganymede. Pietistic catechisation at home was also propagated by preachers as P. Wittewrongel who presented Old Testament figurs as role models for contemporary believers: they served as an example for the education of Reformed youth. Many paintings focus on a godly upbringing.
Barent Fabritius portrayed his kindred (“parental family”) – including siblings, in-laws and their offspring – as figures in Peter in the House of the Centurion Comelius. The Bible story tells how the godly Cornelius summoned the apostle Peter to his home after the visit of an angel. Depicted is the moment that Peter spoke, and the Holy Spirit (the gleaming light) fell on all of them who heard the Word (Acts 10:44). The namesake of father Peter acts here as a substitute for the housefather who had recently died. Next to Peter possibly stands Tobias Velthusius, brother-in-law of Carel, a minister in the Beemster, who translated English pietistic writings. A Pietist way of thinking about the centurion can be found both in Puritan and Catholic literature. Fabritius’ family portrait had an educational goal: to instill godliness into the children who occupy such a prominent place on the painting. Justification through faith and the efficacy of prayer and the Holy Spirit are the main themes. Calvin used the story of Cornelius to explain the maxim “outside the church no salvation”. On the basis of Peter’s words, Calvin dealt also with the outpouring of the Holy Ghost at Pentecoste, which is similary depicted in art. It is striking that Calvin connected the story with the Canaanite woman and Naaman the Syrian; two other exemplary gentiles who appeared in portraits historiés. Fabritius evidently wanted to avoid the appearance of a worship scene, by not drawing attention to the centurion who fell before Peter’s feet but by depicting him as a standing figure upon whom the Holy Spirit descended.
François Wynants and Alida Essings were depicted by Lambert Doomer in Elkana and Hanna present Samuel to Eli (1668), together with their sons François and Dirck, the latter in the guise of the young Samuel. Elkana and Hannah gave their only child to Eli in gratitude to God, because they had been blessed with a son after a long period of infertility; a motif that seems hardly relevant for François and Alida. It has been suggested that the work served as a memorial to their six deceased children, or that Dirck was destined to become a minister, a man of God, like Samuel. One should perhaps take the main motive less literally: as an expression of gratitude for keeping the youngest child alive, since Dirck is depicted as having survived the risky weaning period. Striking is the very faithful and accurate representation of the clothes of Eli. Doomer did not exclusively follow Flavius Josephus’s discription of the high priest, but chose to depict the turban according to Maimonides’s “folded swaddling-bands”, just as Willem Goeree prefered. Also Joachim Oudaen gave a detailed description of the priestly robes, breastplate and frontlet in his play The rejected house of Eli (1671). The drama has been interpreted as political allegory in which the judicial rejection of Eli’s tribe refers to the House of Orange. Doomer’s painting may have such a political dimension, but can perhaps best be explained by the exemplary role of the biblical couple. The episode could serve as a model for all who share in the heavenly calling. The minister Franciscus Burman also attributed an educational goal to the story as an example “how the children of God are received with gratitude and that they must be sanctified.”
The visualised identification with a biblical figure should not be seen as a symptom of a Protestant state of mind. One must also be conservative in the interpretation of the painting as a means of religious revelation or expression of innermost feelings. It has been proposed that sprititualistic practices, especially occasional meditations, are a suitable starting point for interpreting portraits historiés, since they may have instigated the allegorical presentation of everyday events as biblical histories. Josua Sanderus played an important role in the distribution of such ideas. He translated Hall’s Occasional Meditations as well as many other English books on godliness, and was involved in a new edition of Van Haemstede Martyrology of 1621 (1st ed. 1559), in which Old Testament heroes were presented as role models for contemporary administators. The biblical portraits historiés of Protestants are a proof of their attempt to demonstrate to the outside world that they adhered to the religious norms of their own denomination and continued to walk in covenant with God according to the doctrinal standards of sanctification by following pious examples.
Chap. 11. As the seventeenth century progressed, the focus shifted from the representation of the extended family to the family nucleus of father, mother and children, while also the number of secondary figures in portraits historiés descreased. The heyday of the biblical portrait historié in the period 1630-1660 coincides with the rise of the pastoral portrait genre. Paintings of families in a landscape form an extensive part of seventeenth-century portraiture. Most biblical portraits historiés are situated outside, often in a arcadic setting, and hence belong to this formal category. The individuals portrayed appear often in Hungarian or Polish dress or à l’antique with Oriental turbans, very similar in fashion to those worn in tronies, bucolic portraits or hunting scenes. A striking example of the problematic separation between different portrait types and genres is Ferdinand Bol’s Portrait a married couple in oriental costume in a landscape (c. 1648). The work has been linked to a painting described in the estate inventory of the late Anna van Erckel, as being the portrait of the deceased and her first husband, Erasmus Scharlaken, in the guise of Isaac and Rebecca. When a missing piece of this painting with a third figure of a shepherd surfaced, this identification seemed less likely, and it was assumed the painting depicted an unknown couple in Oriental dress. The original composition, however, does not rule out that the painting was the biblical scene mentioned in the inventory. The shepherd – who dressed more simply than figures in most pastoral scenes – could then be interpreted the young patriarch Jacob.
Shepherds were often presented in edifying pastoral literature as instructors of divine knowledge and a natural way of life. This bucolic notion was nourished by the Old Testament. Typical biblical arcadia are envisioned in family portraits in which the head of the household is shown as a biblical patriarch on his way to Canaan with his family and all his livestock. There are many biblical portraits historiés that portray individuals as additional figures that are irrelevant to the Bible story depicted. Pastoral family portraits without a definable narrative scene (as derived from a literary source) are very similar in figuration and composition to biblical family portraits in which an all-encompassing action from a Bible episode is missing. Particularly problematic are family portraits à l’antique in Arcadian landscapes with water wells, such as those by Gerbrand van den Eeckhout, which may be interpreted as depictions of Isaac and Rebecca or Jacob and Rachel. In many cases it remains uncertain whether such paintings should be seen as a depiction of a specific biblical story or as more general allusion to it. Many family portraits have an ambiguous iconography that could relate to both the biblical and the pastoral genre. Recurring elements are houlettes, floral motives and all sort of animals.
In the case of autonomous children’s portraits in fancy dress, the absence of a clear narrative context or attributes usually leads to even greater problems of interpretation. Painters used fixed formula for these portraits, regardless of the subject matter, meeting specific wishes of their clients, who could choose from a range of portrait types. Because of the generic repertoire, it often remains unclear whether or not boys in shepherd’s dress (of fur) are meant to represent St. John the Baptist, especially if the wicker cross with the “Ecce Agnus Dei” banderole is omitted. A similar interpretation problem is the case in the many half-length portraits of girls and young ladies with a lamb, often referred to as St. Agnes, who also may be non-descript shepherdesses. Only if a sword or a palm of victory is depicted, can the person portrayed with certainty be identified as St. Agnes. Portraying children and adolescents in the guise of the little Baptist or St. Agnes was possibly stimulated by the Regola del Cura Familiare (1403) of the blessed Dominican monk and cardinal Giovanni Dominici.
A problematic biblical portrait historié in a landscape setting is Jan Mijtens’ 1650 double portrait of couple, traditionally identified as the politician Jacob Cats and his housekeeper Cornelia Baers. The subject of the painting was recently identified as Manoah’s wife reporting the appearance of an angel. The tiny angel in the background would then be the man of God who told Manoah’s wife that she would conceive of a son: Simson. The heavenly messenger was formerly connected with Cats’s imminent death after his withdrawal from public life. It is highly unlikely that Cats wanted to prophesy his own death by means of a portrait. Nor does it seem probable that Cats had himself depicted with his housekeeper as a token of their identification with the life history of the biblical characters. This notion fo a supposed analogy of event also shed doubt on the portrait identification and was reason to suspect that a hitherto unknown couple was portrayed. However, the painting does not seem to allude to another couple’s desire to have children – they are quite elderly – but to the hoped-for arrival of a new Simson or redeemer. The choice of subject could be related to the then political situation and the failed coup d’état by Stadtholder Willem II. The annunciation of Samson’s birth, however, does not refer to the wish for a new stadholder, since Cats did not consider him an indispensable part of a government. Instead, it must be seen a symbol of the hoped-for restoration of the Republic through wise leadership. It is possible, however, that “father Cats” and his “life companion” identified themselves with Manoah and his wife, because they were often presented as examplary Christians.
Chap. 12. In most portraits historié the biblical story serves as an illustration of an exemplary line of conduct, and formulates a guideline with the aim of ensuring good behaviour. In fact, specific virtues are represented in a narrative manner by figures involved in a historical act. Hence a portrait historié is not a strict allegory, no personification in which an individual person is portrayed as an abstract concept (such as Caritas). The historical scene functions as a kind of parable, a story by which a religious or philosophical idea is illustrated. Often the painting contains a moralistic message, by which the portrayed tried to propagate a favourable opinion about themselves. Their devotional identification is symptomatic of their religious convinctions. The biblical self-image functions as a mimetic paradigm which is told in a diegetic way: in the form of a story. The narrative fiction of the portrait historié consists of several layers or intradiegetic “worlds”. The actual narrative (of the portrayed) is embedded in another narrative (bible), in (through) which the diegetic narrator tells his own story: this is called metadiegesis. In many mimetic and diegetic parts of Bible stories, one can distinguish two distinct layers of meaning: first, God teaches us that He miraculously realises His mysterious plan; secondly, destructive consequences of reckless actions are overcome by God. Many portraits historie’s portray dimensions of predestination and election, such as Delff’s Reconciliation of Jacob and Esau, or aspects of grace, such The gathering the manna by Metius.
It is striking that the cardinal virtues often seem to be the basis of portraits historiés. A portrait historié is, however, not always based on a personal analogy of virtue. Remarkably, in family portraits depicting The Continence of Scipio the main hero is usually not a portrait. Here the positive outcome as a result of human action (Scipio’s magnanimity) alludes to divine intervention. Subject and analogy, on the other hand, can only be explained by the generic identification of the Dutch with the Roman Republic. In Dutch 17th-century imagery one could easily switch from one national image to another: comparing the Dutch with the Roman, Batavian or Hebrew peoples. Because of his (presumed) historicity of descent, the concept of the Batavian Holland differs from the Dutch Israel, which was based on a spiritual comparability. A comparison between a biblical event and a private incident is more difficult to fathom than a national analogy, because it requires both knowledge of the biblical narrative and of a pétite histoire. Reportedly, the Dordrecht artist Jan Woutersz. van Cuyck painted a Judgment of Salomon in which he portrayed the pro-Spanish bailiff Johan van Drencwaert in the guise of Salomon. Reportedly, Van Cuyck, a Mennonite, was detained in jail on charges of heresy, when he made the paining. This partly explains the justiciary allusion, since the bailiff was also presided over court hearings. It remains the question whether this biblical analogy is a fabrication of later historians or based on the truth. In Van Braght’s martyrology of Van Cuyck a similar biblical imagery is used, when the latter is compared with Christ, for example when Van Braght wrote that the painter was sitting on the rack “like an Ecce Homo”. Van Cuyck himself also displayed an analogical way of thinking in his prison letters when he compared Dordrecht magistrates with Pilate and Caiaphas. Finally, it is significant that the theme of the Salomon’s judgment was also used as an indictment against the Inquisition in prints.
In the absence of evidence, an analogy of event seldomly seems the most obvious explanation for identification with biblical figures. The only paintings in which we may certainly assume a narrative parallel as motive for identification are wedding portraits, such The Wedding of Esther and Ahasveros by Jacob van Hasselt. Identifications that are testimony of a reciprocal experience are extremely rare: the equation of portrayed people with biblical figures rarely resides in a similar course of action in comparable situations. More often, a narrative analogy refers to a general circumstance or specific ritual or practice of a denomination than to a specific incident that an individual had actually experienced. The theme of the Preaching of John the Baptist in portraits also expresses a religious sense of community. The sermon in the open air reminded of the secret meetings held by Protestants outside the city when professing their religion was forbidden. In a general sense, one can explain why a personal analogies did not play a major role in the choice of subject. Peoply did not identify themselves in all respects with biblical figures, especially as their behaviour was not praiseworthy. Perhaps Dutch citizens found events from their own lives too commonplace to compare them with such illustrious stories from Scripture.
Several portraits historiés of Jan Govertsz. van der Aer are known, including a painting by Henrick Goltzius in which he appears in the guise of Vulcan, which probably had a counterpart portrait of his wife as Venus. The reason for the equation with the adulterers Vulcan and Venus is difficult to comprehend. Perhaps the woman was not Venus, but Charis, another woman of Vulcan and one of the Graces. In another painting by Goltzius, Van der Aer is shown as one of the lustful elders who watch the bathing Susanna. Because of the church with the courtyard in the background, the figure of Susanna has been interpreted as the persecuted church and the elders with the Jewish headgear and Turkish turban as her unchristian assailants. Similar actualisations of the Susanna theme as symbolic for the violation of the Christian congregation can be found in contemporary lampoons. Such interpretations, however, do not explain the remarkable portrait identification in malo. Goltzius might played a joke on his friend. The byword “Susanna scoundrel” (Susannaboef) was used for (lecherous) old men. The depiction of Van der Aer can only be a witty quip. Susanna was often the subject of (both pedestrian and edifying) songs that relate to debauchery. Humorous aspects of the biblical story are inherent to its representation, while its deeper meaning was often only a pretext for displaying female nudity. Contemporary beholders will have been aware of this double standard. Perhaps the inclusion of Van der Aer’s portrait in the biblical nude scene served as a countercultural argument against the accusation of hypocrisy.
The intercontextual transposition of meaning in the portrait historié is related to what the sociologist Erving Goffman called ‘keying’. The biblical portrait historié is as form of a role enactment, in which social structures, such as family ties and Christian communities are reproduced in a biblical context within the painting. Three kinds “fantastic socialisation” can be discerned in biblical portaiture. The third group of “secret identifications” includes works that express an intimate self-image that do not seem to comply with the rules of decorum (Lowyssen as lovemaking patriarch; Van der Aer as peeping Tom). Notions similar to the modern “social face” are expressed in Christian morality of the time through “mirror imagery” about the self-image and self-knowledge, often combined with painter’s jargon. This touches upon the ambiguous nature of biblical portraiture: it is a sign of inner faith, and at the same time an ornamental and vain “self-image”. So-called ‘role distance’ becomes evident from personal characteristics, contemporary attributes and iconographical deviation that ensure that the portrayed people break character, and are recognized as themselves.
Chap. 13. The end of the donor portrait in the Dutch Republic left a gap in the artistic repertoire of spiritual self-imagination. The absence of portraits in ecclesiastical environments, as part of a commemorative cult, has stimulated the rise of the autonomous biblical portrait historié in secular spaces. Since the rise of the Modern Devotion, being portrayed in a religious scene was a way to testify in person of one’s search for forgiveness, mercy and rapprochement to God. The primacy of Scripture and the “Word-oriented” visual culture of the Reformation, in connection to the Dutch Israel imagery, attested to the popularity of the biblical portrait historié in civic context. Biblical portraiture could be theologically legitimised on the basis of guidelines in commentaries on catechisms, although this does not explain its practical purpose. It has been argued that secularized mentality penetrated devotional art and destroyed it from within. It remains unclear whether or not a family portrait with a biblical subject a for private home actually differs in use from an altarpiece or other devotional works of art containing portraits. To attend to this matter, general questions about functionality and devotional practice of portraits need to be studied first. The debates about the Andachtsbild and the differences between private and public art also complicate an overall interpretation of the portrait historié.
Before the Reformation, Dutch artists were already aware of the symbolic relationship between subject matter and form (or function) of religious paintings. In the autonomous biblical portrait historié – i.e. the secularised type – form, figuration and fashion were often linked to the discussion on the functionality of religious art. Often one finds critial references to pious practises: e.g. the pseudo-donor portrait in Delff’s Jacob and Esau: a criticism on intercession of saints; or the fact that Fabritius’s centurion before Peter does not kneel in veneration of the apostle. Catholic defenses against the reproach of idolatry and reactions from Protestants make clear how portraiture and remembrance were viewed from a religious perspective. According to the Reformed view, there is an essential distinction between paintings in the church and those at the home because of a difference in use. Portraits were allowed at home according to Ursinus’s guidelines, that fitted seamlessly with Calvin’s approval of representations of visible creatures. In the Reformed restrictions of art, one can find further explanation for the success of the biblical portrait historié. Not only does this type of portrait only have a civic use, but it also meets all the requirements that were set for art. For it serves as a remembrance, not only of the portrayed, in the Paulinic sense, but also of the biblical story, while the image as a rule also contains a moralistic message.
The reasons given for portrayal as a specific biblical figure or participant in a biblical scene, mainly explain the choice of subject rather than the motivations for that identification. Reformed critiques of the phenomenon portrait historié have not been handed down, and its assessment can only be interpreted indirectly. In some catechetical texts dramatically performed roles are discussed, which may offer some insight into how this kind of role play in religious art was judged – though views differ widely. Biblical parallels and comparison between persons were often justified in an euhemeric way, because of the conformity with God. Both the perfectionist pursuit of conformity with Christ and the imitation of exemplary figures in calvinist sanctification can be seen as adaptations of the medieval imitatio Christi to the Reformed theology of predestination. By following in the footsteps of Old Testament forerunners, and by being portrayed as patriarchs and the people elect, the Dutch placed themselves, as it were, in the succession from the Old to the New Covenant. In the biblical portrait historié, the Christian actually portrays himself as a Christian; in Old Testament scenes without risk of a personal glorification, so as to disprove allegations of vainglory and idolatry. The analogy in Old Testament portraits histories was seldom based on individual parallels. The choice of subject seems to have been as important as the identification with a biblical figure. The autonomous biblical portrait historié is a painterly representation of the personal empathy of the people portrayed with the Dutch Israel. Inherent to the doctrine of predestination is that biblical figures, as representatives of the contemporary persons, are not actually the acting figures of the story, but God, who works in the form of the Holy Spirit, who reveals himself in Grace who remains invisible to the believer and the spectator.