#aelbert jacobszoon cuyp

[somethingwithmoles]

Aelbert Jacobszoon Cuyp (attributed to), Selfportrait as a boy, ca. 1650, oil painting, 37 x 30 cm, Museum Bredius, The Hague

Despite the work’s title suggested by the museum itself and although the sitter is identified with Aelbert Cuyp, it seems to be doubtful whether it is an actual self-portrait or maybe was painted by a different artist.

Source: Wikimedia Commons | Museum Bredius

[longlivebatart]

Cuyp's Young Herdsmen with Cows

Welcome to Long Live Bat Art, the podcast for art lovers who don’t see art as much as they want to. My name is Sydney and thank you for taking this slow tour through an art gallery with a casual art lover. Today, I’ll be talking about Young Herdsmen with Cows by Aelbert Cuyp. I hope you enjoy. 

Aelbert Jacobszoon Cuyp was born on October 20, 1620 in Dordrecht, which boasts the claim to fame as being the oldest city in Holland. His father, Jacob Gerritszoon Cuyp, was also a painter. And I’m actually sad that it took me this long to figure out that ‘szoon’ might mean that your middle name is your father’s name plus ‘szoon,’ like how your last name in English used to be your profession or father’s name with 'son'. Think of it as ‘Jacobson.’ 

Cuyp comes from a family of artists- his uncle Benjamin and grandfather Gerrit were stained glass designers. Because of their work, Cuyp inherited a ‘considerable fortune.’ But how much he inherited is somewhat of a mystery- even my nemesis Arnold Houbraken didn’t touch much on Cuyp’s artistic career, even though he was the sole authority on the man for a hundred years. I don’t know about you, but if I was the sole authority of something, I might give it a bit more research. 

Cuyp’s works were mainly produced between 1639 and 1660. He married a woman named Cornelia Bosman on July 30 in 1658, which coincided with the tail end of his career. Most biographers blame her for ending his career, but it could be that Cuyp decided to focus on his wife and being a family man for his daughter on his own. 

Cuyp’s career can be broken into 3 periods, based on what artist was believed to have influenced him. The unimaginative names of his periods are his ‘van Goyen phase,’ based on Jan van Goyen, his ‘Both’ stage of Jan Both, and his father’s influence. I don’t know if historians called it ‘Cuyp’s Cuyp phase,’ but if they did it would have been funny. He mainly learned color from van Goyen, light from Jan Both, and form from his father.

You might recognize Jan van Goyen’s name from episode 2- he was a teacher and later father-in-law of Jan Steen. Cuyp may have encountered van Goyen’s work around 1640. Historians think that because two of Cuyp’s paintings, both dated 1659, show that Cuyp hadn’t yet discovered his style. Paintings in 1641 that he collaborated on with his father where Aelbrecht did the landscape and Jacob the figures that are accepted as ‘van Goyenesque.’ The colors and brushstrokes are similar in appearance to van Goyen’s Dunes he painted in 1629. The brushstrokes are generally accepted as being precursors to impressionism, which is known for visible brushstrokes. 

Jan Both lended his light source to Cuyp. Instead of having the light be at a right angle, it instead emanates from the background. That change meant that new degrees of depth could be achieved. Cuyp was one of the first Dutch artists to latch onto the technique that Jan Both brought back from Rome. Cuyp used the technique for sunrises and sunsets. 

Cuyp’s influence from his father was less time-based, instead woven throughout his entire career. Instead of being a pure landscape painter, he learned figures from his portrait painter father. Both father and son had rather fluid styles, each taking inspiration from the other, which frustrates historians and pleases me. It’s a lovely idea, the fact that you can take inspiration from someone that was inspired by you and have it be playful. You are not stagnant, nor should you be. The fact that you’re a human means you are constantly growing, and growing means change. 

Unlike some of the artists we’ve covered this season, Cuyp often signed his works. While he dated some of them, the majority are left undated. Unfortunately, another artist who did similar landscapes- Abraham Calraet- had the same initials that could be confused with Cuyp’s. So some of Calraet’s paintings could be misattributed to Cuyp, and vice versa. Calraet was also an avid follower of Cuyp, which adds to the confusion. Cuyp also had a workshop, and artists would add his initials to paintings he never touched in reference to who the artist’s teacher was. In fact, Hofstede de Groot cataloged 800 works to Cuyp in the early 1900s. However, by 2002 the number had diminished greatly to 45 paintings and the same number of drawings. 

On to the painting.

The painting depicts a grassy hill with a river on the left and below. On the hill are five cows, all with horns. The cow closest to the viewer is brown with a white face except for its cheeks. It’s lying down and is lit from the left and above. The next cow is black and standing, looking over the water. It has a small patch of white along its left jawline, which is facing the viewer. It also has a low white sock marking on its back left leg. Its bones are slightly more prominent than the closer cow- its hips are pronounced and you can see the dip before its shoulder blades, along with its ribs. The next cow is also black. It has a white marking between its eyes. It’s lying down and almost facing the viewer. It has a light gray marking around its nose. The next cow is a lighter shade of brown than the first one, and its face is entirely white. The white cuts off in a line down from just in front of its horns. It’s laying down the same way as the others, with its tail and lugs tucked under itself. The last cow is also lying down and is a rich brown, almost red color. 

Behind the last cow are two young men. One is wearing a straw hat that looks like the stereotypical farmer’s hat, and the other is wearing a black beret, longer on the right side. The young man wearing the straw hat is wearing a blue shirt with a square white covering from his head down his shoulder blades. The covering doesn’t go over his arms. His legs are obscured by the cows, but he seems to be sitting on a rock. The other young man is standing and holding a staff in his left hand. He’s facing the other man and talking with him, using his other hand to point at him, emphasizing whatever he’s saying. He’s wearing a long brown garment with a white shirt underneath you can just see the collar of. His legs are also obscured by the cows. 

There’s another straw hat next to the first man- whether it’s the other man’s or a third man sitting on the ground I can’t tell. 

In the foreground is low vegetation- thin branches with small ivy-like leaves and a larger but still low plant with large leaves on the right. The larger plant’s leaves are spreading from the center like a lily’s petals. There are five of them, all rippled at the edge. There’s a rock among the branches on the left. 

In the background, beyond the river, is another piece of land. It’s more mountainous with trees along the bank. The sky is light. It’s blue on the upper right corner and a subtle orange transitioning into pale yellow beyond the mountains, like the sun is rising. It has a cloud along the right side, above the men and cows. The cloud is light gray and broken up, showing the sky in parts. A sunbeam is cutting diagonally from the middle of the top edge of the painting and towards the bottom right of the cloud. There’s a bird, maybe a white goose, flying overhead. 

Now for my thoughts. 

I like the lighting in this piece- it’s soft and golden. There’s a wide shaft of light coming through the clouds and it’s just absolutely gorgeous. The cows seem healthy and robust, at least from an admittedly never-seen-a-cow-in-real-life person. And the way the black cow is looking over the scenery, it’s almost like it’s admiring the view as well. I know bears can do that- there’s been instances of people seeing bears sitting back and enjoying beautiful things. Humans aren’t the only ones who can admire beauty for the sake of it. 

The whole scene is just a peaceful one. The cows are relaxed, the herdsmen are chatting. I don’t know what drew me to this piece, I really don’t. It has nothing to do with my life- I’ll probably never bring cows out to a hilly area to graze as long as I live. But that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the simplicity of that idea. Yes, herding is probably a rough life- moving animals that are much larger and stronger than you is probably stressful- but right now, animals and humans are relaxed. And they do as most animals and humans do when relaxed- they both rest their legs and humans talk. 

The fact that this scene is the one Cuyp chose to be his subject might be a practical one- he could have had more access to herdsmen or life experience to draw from- but I like to think that there’s something deeper there as most artists do choose with hidden agendas. Maybe Cuyp chose this view because it’s a common one, maybe he chose it to show others what his life or those of his subjects are. Maybe he wasn’t even aware of it. I know I’ve made pieces of art that I thought were interesting for different reasons than other people that saw them. The person experiencing the art and the artist often have very different views. The artist might have created from their own experience, but the viewer also brings their life experience with them when they view the art. My life experience is vastly different from Cuyp’s and his audience’s, so I probably see it very differently.

But that’s fine- you don’t have to precisely ‘get’ the artist’s vision. You might look at a piece of art and see something the artist never intended, or they might create something you’ll never think of. The artist and the viewer have both a symbiotic and antagonistic relationship. Symbiotic because there can be no art without an audience and vice versa. Antagonistic because often artists will create something that the audience won’t see at first, or maybe even ever. But that doesn’t have to be a bad thing. You can’t see anything other than what your own experiences let you, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try. 

So that’s my challenge to you- try to see from another person’s experience today. I know, I just said that was impossible, but it’s a worthy exercise. As one of my favorite books- To Kill A Mockingbird- advises, try to climb in his skin and walk around in it for a while. Unless you’re Hannibal Lecter, I don’t suggest that literally. In fact, even if you are Hannibal Lecter, I strongly suggest you don’t do that literally.

So try to see life from their perspective. A family member, a friend, anyone. A stranger, even. And, if you can, try to pick someone vastly different from yourself. I don’t mean pick someone rich and famous, that will bring you nothing but envy and depression. Nor do I mean pick someone from the very bottom of the so-called social hierarchy. That will bring you nothing but pretentiousness. Try someone more on your level.

But trying to see from another person's perspective, to remember that you are not the center of the universe and not everything should revolve around you, is a humbling experience people should undertake more often. You might be the center of your own universe, but so is everyone else. There are no background characters in life, everyone is the main character in their own story. And if you remember that there’s no such thing as an ensemble role in life, I would bet you’d appreciate your own a lot more. 

If you liked this episode of Long Live Bat Art, please consider telling a friend and reviewing to help the podcast grow. A link to the transcript of this episode is available in the show notes below. And you can follow me on Twitter at Long Live Bat Art and tumblr at tumblr dot com forward slash Long Live Bat Art. That’s Long Live B-A-T Art. Thank you for listening to this episode, and I will see you in two weeks.