Hidden Halos

An intriguing feature was observed during the examination of Michael Sweerts’ Peasant Family with a Man Defleaing Himself (collection Mauritshuis, see fig. 1). The composition shows six figures in an Italianate landscape with a barn. On the right, a woman and a girl are depicted, standing with their back to the viewer. The upper body of the woman is depicted against the background sky, and interestingly the paint of the sky directly adjacent to the figure displays a slightly lighter tone creating a halo-like pale shape around the mother. Surprisingly, infrared reflectography revealed the contradictory presence of a carbon-rich (and thus dark) layer below the paint surface. Sweerts applied a dark grey halo to block out the contours of the main figures in the early stages of the painting process.

Figure 1: A Michael Sweerts, Peasant Family with a Man Defleaing Himself, c. 1646-1656. Oil on canvas, 66.5 × 50 cm. Mauritshuis (The Hague), inv.no. 886. B Infrared reflectogram revealing the presence of a carbon-based (thus dark) halo-like underpainting in the area of the light shape. Images courtesy of the Mauritshuis Museum. Photography by Margareta Svensson. Infrared reflectogram made by Sarah Kleiner.

Once aware of this phenomenon of dark halos, one can see it in many more 17th-century Dutch and Flemish paintings. Many dark halos are visible to the naked eye, both in unfinished paintings like Peter Lely’s Portrait of James II when Duke of York (collection National Portrait Gallery), and finished works like Jan Steen’s The Ill Woman (collection Rijksmuseum). Most halos are found outlining human figures, and most often the faces of these figures (see fig. 2). Nevertheless, some artists also applied halos along the contours of animals or inanimate objects. Examples are Frans Francken the Younger’s Art Cabinet with Scholars around a Globe (Private collection) and Pieter Codde’s A Painter in his Studio Tuning a Lute (Private collection), in which halos can be found around the dog and the cello respectively (see fig. 3).

Figure 2: B Jan Steen, The Ill Woman, c. 1663–66. Oil on canvas, 76 × 63.5 cm. Rijksmuseum Amsterdam, inv.no. SK-C-230. The red arrows indicate the dark halos. Image courtesy of the Rijksmuseum.
Figure 3: A Frans Francken the Younger, Art cabinet with Scholars around a Globe, 1612. Oil on panel, 89.2 × 109.2 cm. Private collection. The white rectangle indicates the area of the detail shown in B. B Detail of the dark halo around the dog. C Pieter Codde, A Painter in his Studio, Tuning a Lute, 1629(?). Oil on panel, 41 × 54 cm. Salomon Lilian (Amsterdam). The white rectangle indicates the area of the detail shown in D. D Detail showing the dark halo around the top part of the cello.

Not all halos are readily visible to the naked eye. Imaging techniques, like infrared photography/reflectography and MA-XRF scanning*, can help visualize more halos. Infrared examination of Anthony Van Dyck’s paintings at the National Gallery London revealed dark halos in several paintings, including his portrait of Lord John Stuart and his Brother, Lord Bernard Stuart (collection National Gallery London, see fig. 4). Underlying halos can only be detected using infrared examinations if they are rich in carbon-based pigments and to a lesser extent earth pigments. The typical build-up of 17th-century paintings often proves unfavorable for distinguishing halos using infrared reflectography, as both the preparation layers and the paint layers on top often contain similar pigments. This is where MA-XRF scanning may come in handy: this technique is sensitive towards halos potentially containing other pigments.

Figure 4: A Anthony Van Dyck, Portrait of Lord John Stuart and his Brother Lord Bernard Stuart, c. 1638. Oil on canvas, 237.5 × 146.1 cm. National Gallery (London), inv.no. NG6518. The white rectangle indicates the detail area shown in B and C. B Detail of Lord Bernard Stuart. C Matching detail of the infrared photograph showing a dark halo along the head of Lord Bernard Stuart. Images courtesy of the National Gallery London.

MA-XRF scanning revealed the presence of many more (dark) halos in the oeuvre of Michael Sweerts. MA-XRF examination of his A Game of Draughts revealed more halos, rich in potassium, iron, manganese, and lead (see fig. 5). These were not visible in the infrared reflectography due to the pigment composition of the halos, but with the more sophisticated imaging technique it was possible to visualize them.

Figure 5: A Michael Sweerts, A Game of Draughts, 1652. Oil on canvas, 48.6 × 38.1 cm. Mauritshuis (The Hague), inv.no. 1121. Image courtesy of the Mauritshuis. Photography by Margareta Svensson. B Infrared reflectogram, showing a halo around the head of the little boy in the center of the composition. Image courtesy of the Mauritshuis. Infrared reflectography by Julianna Ly. C–F Elemental distribution images from MA-XRF. C Lead (Pb-L) map. D Potassium (K–K) map. E Iron (Fe–K) map. F Manganese (Mn–K) map. MA-XRF can successfully visualize hidden halos. From the different maps, it can be concluded that each halo seems to have been painted with a slightly different paint mixture, as the signal intensity of the elements differ from halo to halo.

As is clear from all the above, halos can be found in a substantial number of 17th-century Dutch and Flemish paintings, including many works by Michael Sweerts. This raises the question as to the function of this ‘dark halo technique’. This is a topic that hasn’t received much attention in the art historical literature. Ella Hendriks supplied a plausible theory that I will expand on in the context of the oeuvre of Sweerts: she rationalized the technique as a way to ‘provide a foil against which the tones of the portrait could be established’. This means that it was easier for an artist to paint the correct flesh tones after he/she applied a dark halo first: the dark halo thus serves as a color reference in the early painting stage.

It appears that by introducing the (dark) halo technique, artists intuitively or empirically found a solution to optical phenomena that were only described much later. In 1839, Michele Eugène Chevreul demonstrated that our eye will exaggerate the difference between two colors when we look at them simultaneously: he called this optical effect the simultaneous contrast effect. This effect is a way for us to better distinguish two colors, as they will appear to us as dissimilar as possible. In modern optics and visual perception studies, scholars have also discussed the so-called ‘ring condition’ in the context of simultaneous contrast. Adding a (dark grey or black) ring around the target object is an effective way to reduce or even abolish the simultaneous contrast effect (see fig. 6). The dark halo technique may be how 17th-century painters tried to deal with the simultaneous contrast effect.

Figure 6: Illustrations of the optical effects discussed in the present article. A Simultaneous contrast: the difference between two colors is exaggerated by our brain when we look at them simultaneously. B Crispening effect: different hues of the same color can be perceived better if the background is yet another hue of that same color. C No ring condition. D Ring condition. Source: Ekroll and Faul 2012.

Upon returning and taking a closer look at the paintings that initiated this study, it seems likely that creative artists like Sweerts adapted the dark halo technique for their own specific needs and situations. In Sweerts’ oeuvre, halos were only found in paintings made during his Italian sojourn (c. 1646 – c. 1656). So far, no halos have been found in the works he made in the Low Countries. The difference between his Italian and Netherlandish works is the ground layers used to prepare his canvases. In the Low Countries, Sweerts worked on canvases prepared with a grey (upper) ground, while in Italy he worked on intense reddish brown grounds. It must have taken quite the effort to understand and anticipate the optical effects of the underlying warm color when switching from grey to reddish-brown grounds. Did Sweerts use the dark halo technique to be able to deal with the reddish brown ground better?

Figure 7: Process of the reconstruction of Sweerts’ Peasant Family with dark halo. A Schematic overview of the build-up of the reconstruction. B First lay in of the composition using a dark brown paint. C Application of the dark halo, using a grey paint. D First painting stage, in which the woman’s blue dress and the first skin tones were applied. E The little girl was painted. F The blue background sky was added. G The blue sky was reworked to make it smooth. H The figures in the background were painted. I The composition was finished by adding the final details in the background figures and by painting the trees.

Master’s student Markha Youchaeva (University of Antwerp, Conservation and Restoration of Paintings) carried out reconstructions of Sweerts’ Peasant Family to test the hypothesis and to better understand how the dark halo technique works. Markha made one reconstruction of the painting without the dark halo, and one including the dark halo (see fig. 7). After the completion of each reconstruction, the findings were discussed. After finishing the reconstruction without the dark halo, Markha mentioned difficulties determining the right flesh tones as well as the correct blue color of the woman’s dress. She mentioned having applied the highlights in the skin tones initially too pale, and the shaded areas of skin color too dark. After the blue sky was filled in, the skin tones appeared too orange. When making the reconstruction with the dark halo technique, Markha noted less difficulties with the skin tones. These results seemed to confirm our hypothesis that the strong reddish-brown ground layer does have a severe influence on our perception of the first applied colors.

For 17th-century painters, the dark halo technique may have had several functions. Sweerts saw in the painting technique an efficient and novel tool to diminish the simultaneous contrast effect caused by the strongly colored grounds that he had to deal with during his Italian sojourn.

* MA-XRF imaging is an analytical imaging technique based on X-ray fluorescence. More on this technique and how it works can be found here and here.


The above is a condensed version of a chapter from my dissertation, which is titled “Scanning Michael Sweerts and Michaelina Wautier. Uncovering the working methods of 17th-century Brussels artists by means of MA-XRF examination”.

Want to read more?

  • Kirsten Derks et al., “The dark halo technique in the oeuvre of Michael Sweerts and other Flemish and Dutch baroque painters. A 17th c. empirical solution to mitigate the optical ‘simultaneous contrast’ effect?”, in: Heritage Science 10:5 (2022).
  • Kirsten Derks et al., “Reconstructing Sweerts: Practical Insights into the Historical Dark Halo Technique based on Paint Reconstructions”, in: Anne Dubois (ed.), Alla maniera: Technical Art History and the Meaning of Style in 15th to 17th Century Painting (Underdrawing and Technology in Painting Symposia 22) 2024, pp. 259-272.
  • V. Ekroll and F. Faul, “Basic Characteristics of Simultaneous Color Contrast Revisited”, in: Psychological Science 23:10 (2012), pp. 1246-1255.

Michaelina Wautier and the female self-portrait

The art historical canon is dominated by male artists. It is only in the course of the nineteenth century that women increasingly participate in the professional artistic milieu. Before the nineteenth century, women had limited access to artistic training and often they had to quit painting as soon as they married. Their work was often also not appreciated in the same way as work by male colleagues. Albrecht Dürer (1471 – 1528) for instance wrote the following in his diary in 1521:

Master Gerard, the miniature painter, has a daughter of about 18 years old. Her name is Susanna and she illuminated a small piece of paper, a Saviour, for which I have paid her 1 guilder. It is a great mirable that a woman is able to make something like that.

While Dürer was traveling through the Netherlands, he met Gerard Horenbout and his daughter Susanna Horenbout (1503 – 1554). He is impressed with her skills and decides to buy one of her works. His judgment about her work is both praising and destructive. He pays Susanna a low prize of 1 guilder, indicating that he only appreciated the work as a curiosity. However, nowadays we do know about a number of female painters from the fifteenth through the eighteenth century, who all had an influence on the art historical canon.

The self-portrait was one of the most important genres in painting for female artists. For them, this genre was a way to present themselves to a greater audience, while remaining in control of the way this was done. From the Renaissance onwards, the self-portrait has been an important genre in the fine arts, and female artists in particular have experimented with it.

Renaissance

When we think of self-portraits, the usual image that pops up in our head is that of a naturalistic depiction of the artist in front of his/her easel, holding his palette and brushes in his hands. In other words, an image in which the artist includes the attributes of his trade. However, the first self-portraits of artists in the Renaissance don’t allude to the profession of the artists at all. Examples are the self-portrait of Dürer from 1493 (image 1) or Andrea Mantegna’s self-portrait (image 2) in La Camera degli Sposi (Palazzo Ducale, Mantua).

Image 1: Albrect Dürer, Self-portrait, 1493. Oil on parchment, transferred to canvas. 56.5 x 44.5 cm. Musée du Louvre, Paris.
Image 2: Detail from Andrea Mantegna’s, The Meeting Scene, 1465-1474. Fresco. Palazzo Ducale, Mantua.

It is only around 1550 that artists started to depict themselves in front of their easel. The first artist that did so was Catharina van Hemessen (1528 – 1588). Catharina was the daughter of the Antwerp painter Jan Sanders van Hemessen, and probably learned to paint in her father’s studio. Later she worked at the court of Mary of Hungary (1505 – 1558).
In 1548 Catharina painted her self-portrait, in which she depicted herself in front of her easel, holding her palette and brushes (image 3). She is wearing fancy clothes: a beautiful black satin dress and red velvet sleeves. Her clothes as well as her modest demeanor and tucked-in elbows show that she is a respectable woman. She signed her work with: “Ego Caterina de Hemessen me pinxi 1548. Etatis sua 20” (I, Catharina van Hemessen, painted myself [in] 1548. 20 years old). It is likely that Catharina was inspired by illustrations in manuscripts which depicted legendary artistic women from Antiquity.

A female artist thus created a new subgenre: the self-portrait of the artist at work. The iconography probably developed from the tradition of Pictura or allegorical depictions of painting. In these allegorical paintings, Pictura was often portrayed as a woman, sitting at her easel and holding a palette and brushes.

Image 3: Catharina van Hemessen, Self-portrait, 1548. Oil on panel, 32.2 x 25.2 cm. Kunstmuseum Basel.

A contemporary of Catharina van Hemessen gained international fame for her portraits: Sofonisba Anguissola (1532 – 1625). She was from a noble family and her father sent her to the artist Bernardino Campi to learn how to paint. In 1559, Sofonisba was invited to work at the court of Philip II in Madrid. However, even as a noble woman, she was not allowed to study male anatomy. Therefore, she was forced to work from models in her own surroundings.

Sofonisba experimented with new ways of portraying people. Her portraits of her family members have an informal and intimate character. She also painted a number of self-portraits, in which she presented her view of the place of the female artist. A self-portrait attributed to Sofonisba shows an interesting strategy of the artist (image 4). In this painting, she portrayed herself as a portrait being painted by her teacher Bernardino Campi. This way, she was able to present herself in a witty and unthreatening way, in which she acknowledges the superiority of her teacher.
Her other self-portraits show a different message. Normally, men were seen as creative actors and women as passive objects for painting. However, Sofonisba portrayed herself often as an artist at work, indicating that she was not just the passive object of her painting.

Image 4: Sofonisba Anguissola, Self-portrait with Bernardino Campi, c. 1550. Oil on canvas, 111 x 109 cm. Pinacoteca Nazionale, Sienna.

The genre of the self-portrait was a way for female artists to express their artistic ambitions. It is remarkable that the percentage of artists depicting themselves with the attributes of their craft, is much higher among female artists than among their male colleagues. It seems that women used this genre to emphasize their professionalism. With this genre, they would be able to measure up to their male colleagues: painting a self-portrait was a way of emancipation.

Male artists followed the example set by female artists: they also started to depict themselves as a painter. Anthonis Mor (1519 – 1575) painted his self-portrait in 1558 (image 5). With this painting, he did not wanted to emphasize his craftsmanship, but he rather wanted to profile himself as the court painter to the Spanish king. He depicted a Greek poem on the empty canvas in front of him. This way he argues that he surpasses antique artists such as Apelles and Zeuxis. His self-portrait was for Mor a way to present himself as a pictor doctus, both a painter and a man of science.

Image 5: Anthonis Mor, Self-portrait, 1558. Oil on canvas, 113 x 84 cm. Galleria degli Uffizi, Florence.

Baroque

The seventeenth century knew several outstanding female artists. Michaelina Wautier (1604 – 1689) was one of them. Virtually nothing is known about her life. We do not know whether she was trained as an artist or where she received such a training. We do know that she had a younger brother, Charles Wautier (1609 – 1703), who was also an artist. They lived together in Brussels and probably shared a studio. Michaelina was a successful artist and she worked for important patrons and clients. Archduke Leopold Wilhelm of Austria admired her work, and owned at least four of her paintings.

Michaelina was an exceptional artist, as she didn’t feel limited to one specific genre. She painted still lifes, portraits, religious pieces and history pieces. The most ambitious painting of her hand is Triumph of Bacchus (image 6). This is the biggest painting Michaelina made. With this work she showed that she mastered one of the most important aspects of a painter’s training – the anatomy of the male body. Usually female artists were not allowed to study the male body: this was considered not done. It is not clear whether Michaelina did have access to such anatomy classes, but it is clear that she succeeded in painting the male body convincingly. Another interesting aspect of this painting, is that Michaelina inserted a self-portrait in her Triumph of Bacchus. On the right side, she painted herself as part of the procession, while looking directly at the viewer.

Image 6: Michaelina Wautier, Triumph of Bacchus, before 1659. Oil on canvas, 270 x 354 cm. Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna.

Michaelina interpreted the theme of Bacchus in her own, original way. The painting contains several authentic details, which cannot be seen in earlier painting depicting the triumph of Bacchus. This indicates that Michaelina had quite some artistic freedom for this commission. The integrated self-portrait can even be considered ahead of its time. This interesting way of self-presentation forced her to come up with a new pictoral formula. It is likely that she looked at antique prototypes for this.

Besides her self-portrait in Triumph of Bacchus, Michaelina also painted a self-contained self-portrait (image 7). This portrait is executed with great virtuosity. She depicted herself in front of her easel, holding her palette and her brushes with her left hand. In her right hand she holds a paint brush, as if she is ready to start painting. The architectural space is rather undefined: only a column is visible behind her. She is sitting on a red chair, and is wearing a black and white satin dress.
A timepiece is lying on the easel. With a pink ribbon, a key is attached to this timepiece. Pendants llike this were very expensive and rare in the seventeenth century. They are often depicted in still lifes by Dutch and Flemish artists, in which they figure as a vanitas symbol. With this watch, Michaelina refers to the transience of her youth, beauty and life in general. This watch is an original contribution of Michaelina to the iconography of the self-portrait. Usually in the context of portraits, a skull was added as a vanitas symbol. With this self-portrait, Michaelina shows that she is aware of her exceptional talent, but puts this in perspective with a moralizing message.

Image 7: Michaelina Wautier, Self-portrait, 1640-1649. Oil on canvas, 120 x 102 cm. Private collection.

It is not clear what kind of sources Michaelina used for inspiration. However, it seems likely that she was influenced by the self-portrait of Anthonis Mor. With her self-portrait, Michaelina wanted to distinguish herself from Antwerp artists such as Peter Paul Rubens and Anthony van Dyck, who portrayed themselves as courtiers or rich burghers, without any reference to their trade. The way Michaelina depicted herself seems to refer to her female predecessors. An important question is whether she was familiar with the work of artists such as Sofonisba Anguissola, Catharina van Hemessen and Artemisia Gentileschi.

On the one hand, Michaelina’s painting fits into the tradition of the female self-portrait. However, at the same time, she breaks with this tradition. Her predecessors depicted themselves in their finest and most expensive clothing, while Michaelina presents herself with more nonchalance. She is wearing a satin dress, but her collar is left open. Michaelina presented herself in the intimacy of her own surroundings. She would have never left the house looking like that.

It is clear that the self-portrait has a long tradition. The self-portrait of the artist at work is an invention by a sixteenth-century female artist: Catharina van Hemessen. With this subgenre, Catharina wanted to emphasize her professionalism. At the same time, she presented herself as part of a specific social class by means of the clothes she is wearing. Other artistic women follow her example.
Even later, in the seventeenth century, the iconography invented by Catharina remains the fixed formula for self-portraits by female artists. Michaelina also follows the rules of the decorum. Her self-portrait fits in with the tradition of female self-portraits and at the same time breaks with that tradition. It is clear that she practiced self-fashioning in a thoughtful way, just like all female artists from the sixteenth-century onwards. In her later Triumph of Bacchus, Michaelina dared to take greater risks in the roleplay of the portrait historié.


Want to read more?

  • Frances Borzello, Seeing Ourselves: Women’s Self-Portraits, Thames & Hudson 2018.
  • Frances Borzello, A World of Our Own: Women As Artists Since the Renaissance, Watson-Guptill Publications 2000.
  • Amanda Scherker, How Female Artists Have Used the Self-Portrait to Demand Their Place in Art History (13 May 2019).
  • Katlijne Van der Stighelen, Michaelina Wautier 1604 – 1689: Triomf van een vergeten talent, BAI (Kontich) 2018.
  • Katlijne Van der Stighelen, Vrouwenstreken: Onvergetelijke schilderessen uit de Lage Landen, Lannoo (Tielt) 2010.

Blue cabbages and invisible onions

Discoloration in the oeuvre of Joachim Beuckelaer

In my last blogpost I have discussed the phenomenon of discoloration in Netherlandish painting (1400 – 1700). I concluded that discoloration is omnipresent in museums. The paintings of the Antwerp painter Joachim Beuckelaer (1533 – c. 1575) are no exception: in his paintings too, discoloration is visible. Beuckelaer is mostly known for his market and kitchen scenes, in which he painted small religious scenes in the background. In art historical literature he is often discussed in the context of the development of the still life genre.

As part of my master’s thesis, I researched three of Beuckelaer’s paintings: The Well-stocked Kitchen (Rijksmuseum), Allegory of Imprudence (Royal Museum of Fine Arts Antwerp) and Kitchen Scene with Christ at Emmaus (Mauritshuis). While I wrote in my last blogpost that discoloration doesn’t affect our appreciation of paintings, I found that the intentions of the artist can get lost because of said discoloration.

Joachim Beuckelaer, The Well-stocked Kitchen, ca. 1562. (Source: www.rijksmuseum.nl)

One of the first authors to write about Beuckelaer, is Karel van Mander (1548 – 1606). Van Mander was an artist and art critic. He wrote the Schilderboeck (1604), which includes biographies of the most important Netherlandish artists. One of the chapters of this Schilderboeck is about Beuckelaer. Van Mander writes that Beuckelaer was well-trained in painting ‘from life’. He observed nature and imitated what he saw in his paintings. By doing this, Beuckelaer was one of the best artists of his time, according to Van Mander: Beuckelaer was exceptional in his imitation of nature.

Van Mander also writes about the living conditions of Beuckelaer: the Antwerp painter was apparently very poor and didn’t make much money by selling his paintings. This poverty is reflected in Beuckelaer materials: in a lot of his paintings, the pigment smalt can be found. Smalt is a blue pigment, that was first used in oil painting around 1540. Artists then didn’t know the pigment could discolor, because of a chemical reaction between the pigment and the oil. It will lose its blue color and turn brownish grey. These discolorations can be found throughout Beuckelaer’s paintings. An example is the earthenware plate in the abovementioned painting. This plate was originally painted with white and blue. However, the blue smalt has turned brownish-grey. For my thesis, I made a digital reconstruction of this detail:

This digital reconstruction serves as a visual aid to show the profound effect of the discoloration. Some discoloration in Beuckelaer’s paintings seems to have less impact than abovementioned example. Beuckelaer also used smalt in the modelling of his fabrics and garments. He used the blue pigment mostly in shadows. Because of the discoloration of smalt, these shadows have turned lighter in color and the modelling of the garments has flipped. This causes the garments to lose their three-dimensionality. Even though the discoloration might seem less serious at first glance, it does have big consequences: the garments painted by Beuckelaer now seem less convincing in their stofuitdrukking than they were when the paintings were freshly painted.

We know that Beuckelaer was actually very skillful in the depiction of different fabrics and textures (what we call stofuitdrukking). Karel van Mander writes for instance that Beuckelaer was hired by his contemporaries to paint garments and fabrics in their paintings. One of these contemporaries is Anthonis Mor, a famous portrait painter. The Rijksmuseum has two of his beautiful paintings in its collection.

The fact that an excellent painter, such as Anthonis Mor, hired Beuckelaer to paint garments, speaks to the fact that Beuckelaer was highly appreciated for his skills by his contemporaries. His stofuitdrukking is (partially) lost in his own paintings, unfortunately. Some detail in Beuckelaer’s paintings – painted with more stable materials – show what he was capable of. Not only did he revolutionize kitchen and market pieces, but his stofuitdrukking and aim to convincingly imitate the visible world made Beuckelaer an important forerunner of seventeenth century still life.

This blogpost is a summary of my master’s thesis, titled: “Blue cabbages and invisible onions: Discolouration in the oeuvre of Joachim Beuckelaer”. With this thesis, I graduated from the master’s program Technical Art History at the University of Amsterdam (UvA). The entire thesis can be accessed through the UvA thesis database.