Friday, March 6, 2015

Interpreting Rembrandt's Return of the Prodigal Son

Interpreting Rembrandt's Return of the Prodigal Son
by Bethany Vanderputten BDes MFA

“And while he was still a long way off, 
his father saw him coming. 
Filled with love and compassion, he ran to his son, embraced him, and kissed him” 
Luke 15:20b NLT.

Rembrandt Harmenszoon van Rijn painted his “Return of the Prodigal Son” shortly before his death. As a 17th century Dutch painter among contemporaries like Vermeer and Van Goyen, he worked within the Baroque period, defined as: “a style in art and architecture developed in Europe from the early 17th to mid-18th century, emphasizing dramatic, often strained effect and typified by bold, curving forms, elaborate ornamentation, and overall balance of disparate parts” (“baroque”). Rembrandt was not unaware of the Italian Renaissance that had occurred to the south. According to one 19th century writer: “The Dutch painters were ‘stay-at-home people’, – hence their originality. They were not, however, ignorant of Italian Art. Rembrandt had a large collection of Italian pictures and engravings… (Nash 55).” There are many themes that Rembrandt adapted from the Renaissance, including Chiaroscuro, Istoria, Mimesis, and Color vs. Design. His art was influenced both by Aristotelian empiricism and Neoplatonist thought. Rembrandt’s contemporaries in Holland were more interested in an empiricist observation with regards to art, in portraiture, landscapes, and the still life – in the Flemish tradition of a highly observed subject – than with the reigning Baroque passion for intense color and drama. Although Rembrandt wasn’t interested as such in realism, he …“frequently used that Netherlandish literalness which saw the events of the Bible in contemporary terms (37).” He was also a master of psychological insight within his art. Here I will attempt to interpret his painting of the “Return of the Prodigal Son” from both an aesthetic and a philosophical point of view.

Rembrandt followed his ambition to be a history painter, and this contrasts against the other art of his time and location. In this he continues the Istorian aesthetic defined by Leon Battista Alberti in the Renaissance. Though with less figures as per Alberti’s requested norm, Rembrandt’s paintings essentially “made a true moment in history seem real”. Before this period, in history painting, the “Mannerists took liberty with the texts while... Rembrandt’s ability to grasp the deep spirit and significance of a subject, his highly independent, personal reading of a text, was one of the major reasons for his unique stature as a history painter. (Fuchs 71).” 

The story that Rembrandt painted late in his life, the “Return of the Prodigal Son”, was from the Bible, in the book of Luke, chapter fifteen. It is a parable Jesus Christ told of a son who received his inheritance early and squandered it with wild living. Broken and in poverty he finally decides to return to his father’s house. The painting picks up at one of the most emotionally charged moments in the story (Fuchs 76): “And while he was still a long way off, his father saw him coming. Filled with love and compassion, he ran to his son, embraced him, and kissed him” Luke 15:20b NLT.  Later, while the whole house was celebrating his return, the father finds the elder brother outside resenting the way his brother was accepted back at face value. Rembrandt could also be including these later narrative elements in the painting. He portrayed members of the household, two women and two men in addition to the father and the son. They are dressed in 17th century clothing, and the man standing to the right of the couple, face in the light, could be understood as the elder brother, withdrawn and pensive. Even the architecture reflects the story, with a relief on the column of a figure playing a wind instrument, which could be alluding to the oncoming celebrations. This story was first portrayed in stained glass in French cathedrals during the 13th century, but during Rembrandt’s time it was a common theme (Hall 253), though he made it unique with his insight into the moment of father and son’s embrace.

Rembrandt made potent use of Chiaroscuro in this painting; in this he followed the Baroque way of emphasizing the dramatic. Although this painting certainly depicts a dramatic moment, it exudes a strange sort of calm atypical of Baroque art. Many of his figures almost glow in the light he created, coming out of a shadowy darkness. This helps create a warm, welcoming atmosphere reflecting the subject matter. His light and dark went beyond mere natural observation of the human form, and helped emphasize the psychological intensity of the moment.

This duality of light and dark also emphasized a continuation of the Psychomachia started in the Italian Renaissance. This painting is not just a description of a moment in history – it is a profound portrayal of the struggle within us – between light and dark, good and evil. Rembrandt powerfully describes the contrast: the corrupt ways we know led the young man to poverty, against the portrayed accepting embrace. This is a compelling meeting of two disparate souls. The State Hermitage Museum (where the painting is currently located) says about this painting: “These images represent the summit of Rembrandt's psychological mastery.”

Rembrandt mainly builds on the Venetian use of color (Colore), over the design principles inherent in Florentine Renaissance art. Much of this painting’s potency is in the vibrant hues Rembrandt uses to draw the viewers attention – the warm red of the father’s cloak (and that of the so-called elder brother) set against the yellow beige of the son’s ragged tunic. This intensity of color was also typical of the Baroque style.

Rembrandt’s “Return of the Prodigal Son” could be described as an example of Aristotelian mimesis – a poetic representation of a real event. In this he truly “imitates” reality. He represents many details like the clothing of the characters, and the father’s hands, with much clarity. But this is not a simply natural representation of character; Rembrandt succeeds in portraying the emotion behind the embrace of father and son, and even the onlookers. This could bring about an emotional catharsis in the viewer.

Although this painting reflects an influence of Aristotelian ideas, I regard Rembrandt as under more influence from Neoplatonism. In this painting he didn’t necessarily represent the Neoplatonic typical fondness for ideal beauty – the father being a gnarled old man, and the young man clearly emaciated and poverty-stricken. But, the insight he brings into the moment of the embrace breaks through the naturalist boundaries of Aristotelian empirical observation. “In contrast to the Scholastics, with their increasing empiricism and concretism, the Neoplatonic Humanists saw archetypal meaning in concrete facts, used myths as vehicles for communicating metaphysical and psychological insights, and were ever observant for the hidden significance of things (Tarnas 215).” As aforementioned, Rembrandt was unique in his grasp of the psychology of his subject matter. Another ideal from Neoplatonism this painting represents is the soul’s return to the One. Ficino argued that love was “only another name for that self-reverting current from God to the world and from the world to God. (Vess)”. The son’s return to his father could represent this current (Nouwen 58). Rembrandt’s painting is evidently under the influence of Neoplatonism.

As aforementioned, this painting describes a moment, unique among other artist’s many representations of the subject. But, because Rembrandt was aware of the Italian Renaissance to the south, this painting could reference, in Michelangelo’s “Deluge” on the Sistine Ceiling, the psychology behind the pose where the father upholds his drowned son.

Although many artists of his time were interpreting this narrative of the prodigal son, Rembrandt was unique in his choice of the exact moment of the embrace. He mirrors the Baroque trend toward the dramatic with his use of intense colorful hues, but was unique among his peers in his fundamental focus on history painting, and his psychological mastery of revealing a complex array of emotions within a single painted moment. He reflected many aesthetics from the Renaissance, including Istoria, Psychomachia, and Colore. He was markedly influenced not just by Aristotelian ideals, but also by those of Neoplatonism. Near the end of his life, when this work was painted, Rembrandt Harmenszoon van Rijn was poverty stricken, and many of his loved ones had already passed on (Nouwen 33). This must have informed his unique, and personal, interpretation of the “Return of the Prodigal Son”.

Written by Bethany Vanderputten, 2007
___
For a works cited list please contact the author.

“Joan d’Arc” and Bakhtinian Architectonics

­­
Joan D'Arc ©2008 Bethany Vanderputten
“Joan d’Arc” and Bakhtinian Architectonics
by Bethany Vanderputten BDes MFA

“Joan d’Arc” is a work of art that embraces the philosopher Michel Bakhtin’s notions of the ongoing process of identity and language – his architectonics. Unlike the classical Greek philosopher Plato’s tripartite soul in which it is easy to identify the soul, spirit, and body, the Bakhtinian tripartite identity is hard to pin down. But I will attempt to extrapolate in this artwork, the center, not-center, and the relationship between them. Also evident are the heteroglossia, intertextuality, and simultaneity Bakhtin speaks of in his writings on architectonics. The artwork’s narrative is based on the story of Joan of Arc who followed a divine call to win France back from the English in the Hundred Years War in the 1400s, and represents three images of Joan within one space. I will be employing the following quote from Bakhtin’s “Problems of Dostoevsky’s Poetics” to help explain the connections between his philosophy and this illustration: “I am conscious of myself and become myself only while revealing myself for another, through another, and with the help of another. The most important acts constituting self-consciousness are determined by a relationship toward another consciousness (toward a “thou”)… the very being of man (both external and internal) is the deepest communion. To be means to communicate… to be means to be for another, and through the other, for oneself. A person has no internal sovereign territory, he is wholly and always on the boundary: looking inside himself, he looks into the eyes of another or with the eyes of another… I cannot manage without another, I cannot become myself without another; I must find myself in another by finding another in myself (in mutual reflection and mutual acceptance)…”.

The first part of the Bakhtinian tripartite identity represented in “Joan d’Arc” is the center. It is the centrifugal force that is hard to isolate, and yet, here it is shown as the figure in the foreground holding up the sword. This is Joan as she finally makes the decision to follow God’s call. The nature of this call is outward directed; it is not for fame that she accepts it, but for others, for her country. All parts of this artwork expand from this central figure. The floor recedes from sight and other copies of her figure are receding through the great hall. Bakhtin states that “The most important acts constituting self-consciousness are determined by a relationship toward another consciousness (toward a “thou”)…” In this artwork we find the psychological aspect of this. She is not only finding her identity in her relationship with the “thou” of God, but with the “thou” of her countrymen, and even the other parts of herself. 

The second part of Bakhtin’s identity construct evident in this work is the not-center. If the foreground figure represents Joan’s center, the figure farthest back, grasping the column, could be described as her not-center. It isn’t her, and yet it is. This figure is centripetal as she looks toward the foreground figure. She is representative of a different stage of Joan’s journey, as she is in a moment of decision between accepting God’s call or not. Bakhtin’s words describe this part of Joan’s character: “A person has no internal sovereign territory, he is wholly and always on the boundary: looking inside himself, he looks into the eyes of another or with the eyes of another…” One gets the impression that she could move at any moment, becoming the different Joan’s also represented, and them becoming her. The movement of the artwork also reflects this idea as she is the smallest figure and the others grow larger in scale. The hall itself could also represent Joan’s not-center as well as the indistinct animal in the far-right doorway, and the French landscape beyond – as they all are part of the not-center of her identity construct.

The third part of this identity language is evident in the mid-ground figure holding the sword toward the floor. This also is Joan and she represents the relationship between the not-center and the center. As she is the middle figure in the perspective of space shown one wonders if she is about to move towards her center – accepting the divine call – or towards her not-center, the other Joan and the space without. “…the very being of man (both external and internal) is the deepest communion. To be means to communicate… to be means to be for another, and through the other, for oneself.” This quote from Bakhtin illustrates what is intrinsic in this relationship between – communication. She is almost the mediator between the other images of Joan, indicative of the inner dialogue involved in a decision of this magnitude. Here the viewer also becomes a part of the relationship between. As the viewer identifies and makes connections between different facets of Joan’s personality, the viewer also becomes an architect of this identity.

Further on this theme, this artwork is demonstrative of Bakhtin’s concept of heteroglossia. As this piece represents Joan in many different stages of her life’s journey it speaks to her interior dialogue. Was Joan always a hero for the French and leader of an army of men? Was she always so certain of this call? Who was she in the process of her life? From our modern perspective we often portray a simplistic view of her life. At one point in history there was a dissonant view of Joan as a heretic, but later came the consonant view: she was exonerated and became a Catholic saint. This idea is essential to interpreting the artwork. Her identity wasn’t just within herself, but was also exterior – expanding beyond the boundaries of her own life and into the history books. This polyphony in “Joan d’Arc” and in the character’s wider story is also part of Bakhtinian architectonics. 

This work is a unique representation of Joan’s ongoing self. She is not anything defined or pinned down and she changes in each moment. This is significant of the simultaneity within “Joan d’Arc”. Three images of her character are played out at the same time here in this piece, as also reflected in history. Her heroism, her gender, her decision, and her faith, are all revealed in this one artwork. Distinct moments of her identity process are on display separately but these moments are all simultaneously Joan.

This piece also represents Bakhtin’s idea of intertextuality. Her identity is known to history as being made up of this interiorization of another. Her call from God came from without, and within. Her identity was both bestowed by her God, but also by the French, our history books, and us! This intertextuality is especially seen when one attempts to read each character as unique and unrelated. There are too many similarities with the three characters to keep them separate. This also causes the viewers to ponder their own similarities with each other. Because this illustration reveals three parts of Joan’s identity it is an interesting example of the unique combination of Bakhtin’s identity construct. At every level of reality she is herself, and yet she is another, and for another.


Are we not, alongside the artist, architects of Joan’s life as we interpret the artwork “Joan d’Arc” with the philosophy of Bakhtinian architectonics? Her identity is formed through the spaces within herself, where her identity connects with her God, her environment, and the French. Also – not to be left out – her identity is formed where our reading of this artwork crosses her center, not-center, and the relationship between. The ideas of heteroglossia, simultaneity, and intertextuality within Bakhtinian architectonics also are evident in this work. Shortly after her death, the Roman Catholic Church made the historical Joan of Arc into a saint, finally recognizing her stalwart piety. Here we grasp her significance, as Bakhtin once wrote, “Every meaning will someday have its homecoming festival.” 

Written by Bethany Vanderputten, January 2008