Ovid’s Metamorphoses provided Dutch artists with a wide range of mythological subjects, most of which contain underlying moralizing messages on human behavior. Surprisingly, the story of the visit of Jupiter and Mercury to the aged couple Philemon and Baucis, described by Ovid in the eighth book of his commentaries, was only rarely depicted. For those artists who preferred to depict subjects in Ovid that allowed them to represent sensual scenes of love, betrayal, or deceit, the story had no appeal. The story of deities quietly revealing themselves to humble and devoted individuals, however, struck a responsive chord for Rembrandt that allowed him to penetrate the essence of the myth as no artist ever had.
The moral of the story, as interpreted by Karel van Mander at the beginning of the seventeenth century, is that hospitality and openness to strangers are virtues that are always rewarded. Rembrandt evoked the warmth of the old couple’s personality and suggested much of Ovid’s vivid description of their humble abode, including the fire over which Baucis had cooked the cabbage and bacon for their meal. Yet, Rembrandt’s interest was not in portraying the eventual rewards of the couple’s generosity but in the moment of revelation. Ovid writes that Philemon and Baucis recognized that they were in the presence of gods when their bowls of food and decanters of wine kept replenishing themselves. In fear, they raised their hands in prayer. Then, in an effort to offer better fare, they tried to catch their only goose, which escaped their grasp and fled to the strangers for refuge. The moment Rembrandt has depicted is that in which Jupiter both commands them not to kill the goose and blesses their offering with a firm yet comforting gesture.
Early in his career, Rembrandt had painted a number of episodes from Ovid, including the Abduction of Proserpina, now in the Gemäldegalerie, Berlin, but the dramatic characterization of their narratives is totally different in kind from this quiet, reverent scene. The differences in subject matter and presentation, between the dynamic theatricality of one and the subdued, evocative nature of the other, are characteristic of Rembrandt’s artistic evolution. Throughout his life, he carefully considered textual sources, whether they were biblical or mythological, but he also drew on others’ interpretations of comparable scenes for his inspiration. When he first turned to Ovid around 1630, he did so under the influence of Rubens and, for example, clearly derived his inspiration for the Abduction of Proserpina from a print by Pieter Claesz Soutman (Dutch, 1580 - 1657) after a Rubens composition. For Philemon and Baucis, painted in 1658, the visual sources are entirely different. They reflect a fusion of mythological and biblical images that helps account for the intense spirituality of the scene.
Adam Elsheimer (German, 1578 - 1610)’s painting Philemon and Baucis, 1608 (Staatliche Kunstsammlungen, Gemäldegalerie, Dresden, inv. no. 1977), known to Rembrandt through Hendrik Goudt (Dutch, 1585 - 1648)’s engraving of 1612 [fig. 1] [fig. 1] Hendrik Goudt after Adam Elsheimer, Jupiter and Mercury in the House of Philemon and Baucis, 1612, engraving, National Gallery of Art, Washington, Gift of W.G. Russell Allen, 1941.1.162, was a primary source of inspiration. One sees here the gods lounging in the corner of the dimly lit, humble home of the old couple who are busy preparing the meal. Elsheimer, however, depicted an earlier moment of the episode, before Philemon and Baucis had become aware of the divinities’ identities. Rembrandt switched the relative positions of Jupiter and Mercury so that Jupiter, the primary deity, faces the viewer. Dressed in exotic, loosely draped robes, he dominates the scene and takes on a Christ-like appearance that strongly echoes that from the Last Supper by Leonardo da Vinci (Florentine, 1452 - 1519). Rembrandt knew of this composition from a number of sources and made at least three drawings after it, the most extensive of which he executed around 1635 [fig. 2] [fig. 2] Rembrandt van Rijn after Leonardo da Vinci, The Last Supper, c. 1635, red chalk, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, Robert Lehman Collection, 1975. Photo © The Metropolitan Museum of Art / Art Resource, NY. Leonardo’s composition had a profound impact on Rembrandt’s art for the rest of his life, and he adopted it for a number of different subjects in prints, drawings, and paintings. In his 1654 etching, Christ at Emmaus, for example, he depicted Christ in a pose comparable to that seen in the Last Supper. As Stechow and others have emphasized, Jupiter in Philemon and Baucis partakes of much the same spirit.
Rembrandt’s appreciation of the thematic connections between Ovid’s story and Christ at Emmaus, however, did not just develop at the end of his life. His earliest depiction of the biblical story, in 1628 [fig. 3] [fig. 3] Rembrandt van Rijn, Christ at Emmaus, 1628, oil on panel, Musée Jacquemart-André, Paris. Photo © Institut de France–Musée Jacquemart-André, Paris, used as its compositional basis Goudt’s Philemon and Baucis print [fig. 1] [fig. 1] Hendrik Goudt after Adam Elsheimer, Jupiter and Mercury in the House of Philemon and Baucis, 1612, engraving, National Gallery of Art, Washington, Gift of W.G. Russell Allen, 1941.1.162. Here, however, Rembrandt transformed the light of the oil lamp into a mystical aureole of light behind Christ that frightens and astonishes the apostles. Rembrandt remembered this dramatic effect when he painted a comparable glow of light behind Mercury. Although the light here is more subdued, it serves to give a mysterious radiance to the darkness and to illuminate Jupiter’s golden raiment.
As in Rembrandt’s depictions of Christ at Emmaus [fig. 3] [fig. 3] Rembrandt van Rijn, Christ at Emmaus, 1628, oil on panel, Musée Jacquemart-André, Paris. Photo © Institut de France–Musée Jacquemart-André, Paris, light, rather than symbolic attributes, signifies the revelation of divinity. Rembrandt also uses light to help accent important compositional elements. He reinforces the significance of Jupiter’s gesture, for example, by placing it on axis with a vertical board on the rear wall that is illuminated by Mercury’s aureole. He uses other elements of the dwelling to reinforce his figural composition: the diagonal beams and rope draped over the table both draw the group together and suggest the subdivision within it.
This work is the only extant Philemon and Baucis painting in Rembrandt’s oeuvre. Quite possibly, however, he included this subject within the series of scenes from Ovid that Baldinucci reports he painted for a Dutch merchant/magistrate. Baldinucci probably learned of this series from Bernhard Keil (1624–1687), a Danish artist and Rembrandt pupil who traveled to Italy after being in Amsterdam from about 1642 to 1651. Although no dates for this series of paintings are known, it may belong to the period of Keil’s residence in Amsterdam. Two drawings in the Kupferstichkabinett in Berlin have frequently been considered preliminary drawings for the Washington painting. The episodes from the story of Philemon and Baucis depicted in the drawings, however, are so different that they have to be understood as independent creations. Closer in concept is Rembrandt’s sympathetic drawing Saint Peter’s Prayer before the Raising of Tabitha, c. 1654/1655 (Musée Bonnat, Bayonne), in which Saint Peter’s pose resembles, in reverse, that of Philemon.
The painting is in poor condition. Perhaps as a result of the transfer process, which was probably undertaken in the nineteenth century, there are losses in many of the thinly painted areas of the painting. A good deal of old OverpaintA layer of paint that covers original paint. exists on the surface. The awkward lower portions of Mercury’s torso almost certainly result from such reconstructive work. A mezzotint by Thomas Watson (British, 1743 or 1748 - 1781) of 1772 [fig. 4] [fig. 4] Thomas Watson, mezzotint after Philemon and Baucis, 1772, Rijksprentenkabinet, Amsterdam. Photo © Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam provides an impression of the painting’s appearance at that time.
Arthur K. Wheelock Jr.
April 24, 2014