Ambrosius Bosschaert infused his flower bouquets with a sense of wonder. He had an unerring compositional awareness, and delighted in combining an array of flowers of various colors and shapes to create a pleasing and uplifting visual experience. Here, a spectacular yellow bearded iris and a red-and-white striped tulip surmount a bouquet that also contains, among others, roses, a blue-and-white columbine, fritillaria, grape hyacinth, lily of the valley, forget-me-not, globeflowers, and a sprig of rosemary. At the base of the ribbed onion-shaped glass vase lie a pansy and a cyclamen blossom. A damselfly alighting on the iris and a Red Admiral butterfly on the cyclamen further enliven the composition. These flowers could not have all been in bloom at the same time; therefore, and because several of them recur in other paintings by Bosschaert, he must have worked from memory or from drawings he kept in his studio.
At the lower right edge of the stone ledge are the artist’s monogram and the date 1621, the year of his death. The picture is made all the more poignant by the French inscription, written in gold lettering on a blue ground, that fills an illusionistic plaque attached to the ledge’s front: “C'est l'Angelicq[ue] main du gra[n]d Peinctre de Flore / AMBROISE, renommé jusqu' au Rivage Moré” (This is the angelic hand of the great painter of Flora, Ambrosius, renowned even to the banks of the Moré). The inscription offers a moving testament to the artist's enormous reputation, which, as the phrase implies, extended to the farthest reaches of the Dutch commercial empire.
This exceptional painting is the one that Bosschaert took with him in 1621, when he traveled from Breda to The Hague to deliver a blompot (flower still-life painting) to Frederick van Schurman (or Schuermans), the bottelier of Prince Maurits. For this work Bosschaert received the extraordinary sum of 1,000 guilders. Unfortunately, according to the artist’s daughter Maria, Bosschaert fell ill while in The Hague and died in the home of his patron, “to the sorrow of many art lovers.” Frederick van Schurman had been ennobled by the Holy Roman Emperor, and Maria Bosschaert referred to Van Schurman as a joncker (from the German Junker), an honorary title that corresponds to the old inscription “Jonckheere” on the verso of the painting.
The illusionistic plaque was always conceived as part of the composition, although it is not known who actually composed and wrote the celebratory French text. Not only did Bosschaert paint the shadow of the pansy falling over the plaque’s upper edge, but Infrared ReflectographyA photographic or digital image analysis method which captures the absorption/emission characteristics of reflected infrared radiation. The absorption of infrared wavelengths varies for different pigments, so the resultant image can help distinguish the pigments that have been used in the painting or underdrawing. at 1.5 to 1.8 microns reveals that he carefully ruled in the plaque with dark lines before he began painting [fig. 1]
[fig. 1] Infrared reflectogram, Ambrosius Bosschaert, Bouquet of Flowers in a Glass Vase, 1621, oil on copper, National Gallery of Art, Washington, Patrons' Permanent Fund and New Century Fund, 1996.35.1. Bosschaert, in fact, made detailed UnderdrawingA drawing executed on a ground before paint is applied.s of all of his pictorial elements: leaves, blossoms, and insects. He even indicated the painting’s central vertical axis with a ruled line. It thus seems probable that Bosschaert’s patron specifically commissioned this bouquet of flowers to commemorate the artist and his fame. It is, tellingly, the only painting the artist ever made with such an illusionistic plaque. The importance of this work within Bosschaert’s oeuvre is further supported by the fact that Ambrosius Bosschaert the Younger (1609–1645), the artist’s son, made three adaptations of the composition, one of which he painted on silver in 1627 [fig. 2]
[fig. 2] Ambrosius Bosschaert the Younger, Flowers in a Vase, 1627, oil on silver , private collection. Photo courtesy Noortman Master Paintings, Maastricht.
Bosschaert’s carefully balanced composition reflects the naturalistic style of his flower paintings at this late period of his career. Although he surmounted this bouquet with two large flowers, much as he had done throughout his career, he arranged the rest of the flowers more informally than he had done in the previous decade, in part by overlapping individual blossoms. Moreover, his sophisticated glazing techniques allowed him to create soft, velvety textures for flower petals and leaves, an effect quite different from the crisp forms of his earlier style. He also introduced here subtle tonal gradations in the background to enhance the sensation of light flooding the image.
Floral still lifes became popular in the early seventeenth century, in part because they depicted the exquisite, imported blooms collected by wealthy citizens who wished to admire their colors and rhythmic forms throughout the year. Bosschaert’s bouquets capture the fragile beauty of flowers and the sense of hope and joy they represent. They seem so real we almost believe it is their aroma—and not the artist’s brush—that has drawn the damselflies and butterflies to their petals. Bosschaert’s approach to flower painting, in which blossoms that bloom at different times of the year are assembled into a single sumptuous display, reflects a fundamental theological belief then held by both Catholics and Protestants: that God's munificence was to be found in the extraordinary richness and beauty of the natural world. Thus, even as pictorial accuracy was important in recording God's individual creations—flowers, insects, and shells—an imaginative melding such as that found here was meant to celebrate the greatness of his blessings. It is, however, only through the delicacy of Bosschaert’s touch—his “angelic hand”—that this bouquet achieves a lifelike quality analogous to God’s own creativity.
Arthur K. Wheelock Jr.
April 24, 2014