Still Life with Nautilus Cup, 1665/1670

Kalf’s renown as an artist was such that during his lifetime he was eulogized in verse by Jan Vos and Joost van den Vondel; in the early eighteenth century, Gerard de Lairesse (Dutch, 1641 - 1711) and Arnold Houbraken wrote about him enthusiastically.[1]  [1]
For Jan Vos’ poem, written in 1654, see Lucius Grisebach, Willem Kalf, 1619–1693 (Berlin, 1974), 21; for Vondel’s poem, published in 1663, see Lucius Grisebach, Willem Kalf, 32. See also Arnold Houbraken, De groote schouburgh der Nederlantsche konstschilders en schilderessen, 3 vols. (The Hague, 1753; reprint, Amsterdam, 1980), 2:218–219; and Gérard de Lairesse, Groot schilderboeck, 2 vols. (Haarlem, 1740; reprint, Soest, 1969), 266–268. Although these sources provide some insight into the character of his art, they say nothing about his workshop practice. Likewise, no mention is made of students, although some artists, particularly Jurriaen van Streek (1632–1687), come so close to him in style and composition that it seems improbable that they did not spend some time in his studio.[2]  [2]
Jurriaen’s son, Hendrick van Streek (1659–after 1719), also painted in the manner of Kalf. For a discussion of artists working in Kalf’s manner, see Ima Blok, “Willem Kalf,” Onze Kunst 35 (January–June 1919): 143– 145; and Fred G. Meijer, “In der Nachfolge von Willem Kalf,” in Gemaltes Licht: Die Stilleben von Willem Kalf 1619–1693, ed. Sylvia Böhmer (Munich, 2007), 150–155. The issue is of some consequence because two or three versions exist of certain of Kalf’s compositions. While later imitations may also have been made, it would have been consistent with seventeenth-century workshop practice for studio assistants, perhaps with the aid of the master, to make replicas of the master’s most successful paintings. Even without documentary evidence to confirm the existence of a Kalf workshop, these replicas suggest that he worked with various assistants, particularly during his Amsterdam years.[3]  [3]
Lucius Grisebach, Willem Kalf, 1619–1693 (Berlin, 1974), attributes 147 paintings unreservedly to Kalf. He also lists various copies of these works, copies of lost originals, questionable works, and wrongly attributed paintings. He does not, however, discuss the workshop problem. Sam Segal, A Prosperous Past: The Sumptuous Still Life in the Netherlands, 1600–1700, ed. William B. Jordan, trans. P. M. van Tongeren (Delft, 1988), 180–181, writes that Kalf, “like De Heem, allowed his pupils to make copies of his paintings to which he himself would add the finishing touches.” Besides numerous copies by others, we also know of contemporary replicas signed by Kalf himself. Segal, however, does not present the evidence for his claim.

Even though Still Life with Nautilus Cup has many qualities of a Kalf composition, it must be one of these replicas.[4]  [4]
Technical analysis shows that the signature was a later addition. Thus it is no assurance of authenticity. A comparison with the Gallery’s Still Life, in which a number of the same objects appear, reveals the differences in handling between this work and an authentic painting by the master. The most obvious disparity is in the depiction of the lemon rind in each painting ([fig. 1]   [fig. 1] Detail of lemon, after Willem Kalf, Still Life with Nautilus Cup, 1665/1670, oil on canvas, National Gallery of Art, Washington, Gift of Robert H. and Clarice Smith, 1974.109.1 and [fig. 2]   [fig. 2] Detail of lemon, Willem Kalf, Still Life, c. 1660, oil on canvas, National Gallery of Art, Washington, Chester Dale Collection, 1943.7.8). In Kalf’s own hand the rind has a three-dimensional presence as it twists and turns in space. Its edges are carefully wrought to show both the irregular cut of the knife and the thickness of the skin. Finally, Kalf re-created the rough texture of the skin with sure touches of the brush. The illusionism is so complete that the paint seems to take on the character of the skin itself. The lemon peel in Still Life with Nautilus Cup exhibits none of these characteristics. Form is simplified, edges give no hint of the rind’s thickness, and paint highlights sit on the surface, doing little to create the sense of texture. Comparable differences in technique are evident in the treatment of the Seville orange and the tapestry.[5]  [5]
Similar comparisons can be made with other paintings containing identical objects, such as the blue-and-white Chinese bowl in Kalf’s Still Life with Nautilus Cup in the Fundación Colección Thyssen-Bornemisza, Madrid. Grisebach, who in 1974 was the first to recognize that Still Life with Nautilus Cup was a replica, considered Kalf’s original composition to be a painting formerly on the art market.[6]  [6]
Lucius Grisebach, Willem Kalf, 1619–1693 (Berlin, 1974), 279, no. 140a. He gives no reason for having determined this work to be a copy. Doubts about the attribution have also been expressed verbally by Ingvar Bergström, Sam Segal, Claus Grimm, and Fred G. Meijer. That painting, however, is also a replica, but by a different hand.[7]  [7]
Sir Geoffrey Agnew, in a letter dated January 9, 1976, in NGA curatorial files, indicates that after Agnew's acquired this painting at Sotheby’s in 1964 (Sotheby’s sale catalog, March 11, 1964, lot 70, repro.), they determined after restoration that it was an “old copy.” Agnew’s subsequently sold the painting at auction on August 18, 1970. Its present location is unknown. As seems to have happened in a number of instances, Kalf’s original is lost.[8]  [8]
See, for example, Lucius Grisebach, Willem Kalf, 1619–1693 (Berlin, 1974), 286, nos. B6, B7, B8.

The compositional elements of the present work indicate that Kalf’s original composition must have been executed in the late 1660s.[9]  [9]
Lucius Grisebach, Willem Kalf, 1619–1693 (Berlin, 1974), 279, however, explained the weakness of the painting that he considered to be the original by dating it to the end of Kalf’s career: “Qualitativ stellenweise recht schwaches Spätwerk.” Although the blue-and-white Wan-Li porcelain bowl, decorated with colored biscuit figures representing the eight immortals of Taoist belief, is already found in Kalf’s paintings from the early 1660s, most prominently in his Still Life with Nautilus Cup of 1662 (Fundación Colección Thyssen-Bornemisza, Madrid),[10]  [10]
For an illustration, see Ivan Gaskell, Seventeenth-Century Dutch and Flemish Painting: The Thyssen-Bornemisza Collection (London, 1990), no. 10, 74–77. the unusual nautilus cup appears only later in the decade.[11]  [11]
See, for example, his Still Life with Nautilus Cup (Museum der bildenden Künste, Leipzig). Lucius Grisebach, Willem Kalf, 1619–1693 (Berlin, 1974), 160, 276–277, no. 136, repro. 135, dates this painting to the late 1660s because of the dark tonality and the prevalence of gold tonalities in the work. This cup consists of a polished turban shell mounted on an elaborately wrought, gilded-silver base made in the form of a putto holding a horn of plenty.[12]  [12]
Although the bases of the Leipzig and National Gallery of Art paintings are similar, slight differences do occur. The turban shell, for example, sits directly on the head and hand of the putto in the Leipzig painting, whereas in the National Gallery of Art painting it is raised above the putto by three circular forms. Such free adaptations in the shapes of objects are common in Kalf’s paintings; a variant of this same base is used as a support for a glass in his Still Life, 1663, in the Cleveland Museum of Art (inv. no. 62.292; see Sam Segal, A Prosperous Past: The Sumptuous Still Life in the Netherlands, 1600–1700 [Delft, 1988], 195, 249, no. 56). While the turban shell was especially prized for its mother-of-pearl luminosity, its shape, with the symbolic association with a horn of plenty, made it a particularly appropriate focal point for Kalf’s image of wealth and prosperity.

Arthur K. Wheelock Jr.

April 24, 2014