Baroque and Rococo

 







Diego Velazquez



 


 

     
 Baroque and Rococo Art Map
 
       
     Velazquez  - The Face of Spain
 
(Text by Norbert Woif)
 
 
     CONTENTS:  
    From Kitchen to Palace  
    The Psychology of Power  
    A Humane Equilibrium  (The Surrender of Breda)  
    Enigmas and Reflections - Riddles in Paint  (The Fable of Arachne, Las Meninas)  
    Picasso's studies  of  Las Meninas  
    Life and Work  
       
 



The Face of Spain


 

 

Enigmas and Reflections

- Riddles in Paint


 
 

One of the most famous of the paintings by Velazquez, and an example of his great mythological works, is The Fable of Arachne (Las Hilanderas), now usually dated to the 1640s. It was painted not for the king but for a private patron. In its composition, the artist looks back to his bodegones, where two different areas and two planes of reality balance each other. The everyday scene in the foreground shows a plainly furnished room where women are at work spinning. Sunlight falling in from above conjures up a complex range of colours. On the left, an elderly woman is at the spinning wheel, while the young woman seated to the right is winding yarn. One of the figures of naked youths by Michelangelo on the roof of the Sistine Chapel has been identified as the model for her attitude. Three other women are bringing more wool and sorting through the remnants.
 


Velazquez
The Fable of Arachne (Las Hilanderas)
c. 1657
Oil on canvas, 220 x 289 cm
Museo del Prado, Madrid

There were two editions of Ovid's Metamorphoses in the library owned by Velazquez.
In this work, Ovid tells the story of the rivalry between Pallas Athene and Arachne.
Arachne, shown as the young woman on the right, made six tapestries depicting gods abducting mortals,
beginning with Europa abducted by Zeus in the shape of a bull.
The radiant apparition of the young woman by far outshines the goddess Athene beside her.
  

   
 


Michelangelo
Ignudi
1508-1512
Sistine Chapel, Vatican
 

 

Velazquez
The Fable of Arachne
(detail)
c. 1657
Oil on canvas
Museo del Prado, Madrid
 

   


Peter Paul Rubens
The Rape of Europe (copy from Titian)
1628

The model admired all over Europe,
Titian's Rape of Europa,
was in the royal palace in Madrid in the seventeenth century.
Rubens copied the painting,
and so did Juan Bautista Mazo,
Velazquez' son-in-law.

There is a second room in the background, in an alcove reached by steps. It is flooded with light and contains several elegantly dressed women. The woman on the left wearing an antique helmet and with her arm raised is a figure of Athene. Opposite her - either really in the room, or part of the picture in the tapestry on the back wall? - stands the young Arachne, who has committed the sacrilegious act of comparing her skill in weaving with the goddess's. She has begun their competition with a tapestry showing one of the love affairs of Jupiter, the rape of Europa. Velazquez borrowed the theme of this tapestry from a famous picture by Titian, also extant in a copy by Rubens, to show his artistic veneration for the Venetian master.
The legend of Arachne derives from the Metamorphoses of the Roman poet Ovid, and around 1636 Rubens had painted a version of the same story for the Torre de la Parada, showing the punishment of the less able weaver, when she was turned into a spider. Velazquez omits this detail, instead treating the rivals almost as equals. By comparison with the weight of symbolism in the background scene, he shows the simple work of the women in the foreground with monumental dignity; it is the basis of the technique without which no goddess could practise her arts. This interpretation is still relevant if Velazquez has in fact represented the figures of Athene (now disguised, but with her shapely bare leg indicating her timeless beauty) and Arachne a second time in the figures of the old woman and the young woman in the foreground. Here, at least, Velazquez has transferred mythology to everyday reality. However, there is a whole series of possible meanings beneath the surface of this painting, and scholars are still puzzling over some of them to this day.
 

 

 
 

 


Velazquez
The Fable of Arachne
(detail)
c. 1657
Oil on canvas
Museo del Prado, Madrid

Athene, disguised as an old woman, visited Arachne to warn her of her sacrilegious challenge.
When Arachne was unmoved, the goddess threw off her disguise and revealed herself in helmet and armour.
It is not clear whether the other women in the alcove with Arachne symbolize the four fine arts.
 


_______________
_______________

 


Diego Velazquez:

 

The Tapestry-Weavers 


(1644-1648)



Manufacturing riddle
 
 

 


At first glance the painting, executed by Velazquez between 1644 and 1648, looks like a genre work. But The Tapestry-Weavers is not only one of the earliest representations of manufacturing in the history of art; it is first and foremost an allegory. In keeping with contemporary taste, the artist has filled the canvas with countless scholarly allusions. The painting, measuring 220 by 289 centimetres, is in the Prado, Madrid.
 


Velazquez
The Fable of Arachne
(detail)
c. 1657
Oil on canvas
Museo del Prado, Madrid
 

 

The painting is in dreadful condition. In the course of centuries it has been cleaned and "repaired" with unsuitable materials, and strips of canvas have been added to all four sides. In recent times, dry air and pollution have made the paints crack and peel, and it is now almost impossible to make out the former colours under the darkened varnish. International experts, examining the painting in 1983, concluded that it should be left in its present condition, since further restoration attempts might destroy it altogether.
In spite of its deficiencies, The Tapestry-Weavers remains one of Velazquez' most important works, contrasting sharply with the rest of his artistic production. For most of his life, Velazquez, as painter to the Spanish court, was expected to deliver majestic renderings of the rulers of the day, while the present work shows wage-labourers at work. On the left is a whirring spinning wheel, on the right a turning reel of yarn. A bale of raw wool, the material processed here, hangs on the wall. The girl in the red skirt separates it with a comb; the woman with the white headscarf spins it to yarn on her wheel, while the worker wearing the white blouse winds the spun thread into a ball, which will later to be passed on to a weaver. In the background, at a higher level, is a different, brighter world. A figure in armour makes grand gestures, while opulently dressed ladies consider a tapestry. They are inspecting the luxurious product of the -wool workers' labour.
The foreground and background of the painting evidently contain depictions of the two social strata between which Velazquez felt drawn. As an artist, he pursued the "menial" trade of a craftsman; but he also felt part of an aristocracy to "whom all work was foreign, forbidden, indeed contemptible. It was a dichotomy, replete with tensions.
 

 


A person who needs to work deserves contempt
 

 


Velazquez
The Fable of Arachne
(detail)
c. 1657
Oil on canvas
Museo del Prado, Madrid
 

 

For centuries, the wool industry, with the support of the monarchy, had been an important pillar of the Spanish economy. Until the beginning of the 17th century, the rough highlands of Castile, where no cereal crops would grow, had provided pasture for some two million sheep. The wealth of towns such as Burgos, Salamanca and Toledo was based on the production and export of wool. However, the industry was eventually plunged into a serious crisis: between 1594 and 1746, several hundred textiles mills were forced to close in Toledo alone, leaving a mere 15 operative. As a result, the town lost half its inhabitants. During the same period, the number of households in Burgos, where most of the raw wool changed hands, sank from 2600 to 600.
The reason for the crisis was gold, shipped to Seville twice a year by Spanish ships, whose captains had discovered the Americas. Large quantities of money suddenly flowed into the country, only to flow out again equally quickly. For commodities that had once been produced in Spain were now bought abroad instead: Velazquez and his fellow citizens no longer dressed in Spanish cloth, but in textiles woven in Flanders or England. The "richest nation on earth" believed it could afford to import everything it needed, from cereals to sword blades, leaving all trade, together with the profits, in the hands of foreigners. Merchants arrived from France, Italy and the Netherlands; builders, smiths and tailors also came to Spain, taking over so-called "menial" tasks - mostly involving manual labour or money-making - which were looked down on by the indigenous population.
Most of Velazquez contemporaries preferred to work for a grandee, or do odd jobs, or even beg at church doors, rather than earn their livelihood with their hands. For, as a French traveller to Spain put it, the heads of the inhabitants of that country were "fuming with delusions of nobility ...". After all, their ancestors had defeated the Moors, conquered the Americas and fought for the Catholic Church against most of Europe. With such a heroic heritage, any Spaniard worth his salt saw himself as a conquistador or a knight, or, at the very least, a hidalgo. To be a hidalgo, a nobleman of the lowest class, was a matter of honour. A hidalgo did not work, nor did he pay direct taxes.
The clergy and nobility were exempted from countless taxes by which the king attempted to squeeze from his countrymen funds to finance wars in the interests of Spanish hegemony. However, since practically every inhabitant was a nobleman, very few taxpayers were left. Among the 3319 heads of household in Burgos in the year 1591, for example, there were 1722 hidalgos and 1023 clergymen, so that a mere 574 taxpayers made any sort of fiscal contribution at all. It was hardly surprising that the economy was stagnating and the Spanish Empire in decline.
 

 


The importance of a career at court

 


Velazquez
The Fable of Arachne
(detail)
c. 1657
Oil on canvas
Museo del Prado, Madrid

Artists, too, were required to pay a tax: the Castilian "alcabala", a ten percent levy on all purchased goods. They fought against it bitterly, not because it deprived them of income, but because they felt it was demeaning to have the same fiscal status as potters and joiners. "Painting is a liberal art; there is nothing slavish or craftlike about it", maintained the painter Francisco Pacheco, Velazquez's teacher and father-in-law. "It is more noble than sculpture, since it involves less physical labour. It is worthy of a hidalgo, and even kings do not spurn it."
Spanish artists were naturally prone to the prejudices and values of the class society in which they lived. Velazquez, born in Seville in 1599, was proud of his noble Portuguese extraction. However, nominated in 1658, at the height of his career, for the aristocratic title of Knight of the Order of Santiago by Philip IV, he was unable to prove his aristocratic ancestry beyond a few generations. He required (and was granted by Pope Alexander VII) official exemption from the obligation to prove his noblility.
Over a hundred witnesses were heard to establish whether the artist was worthy of the Order. For example, confirmation was required that he had never worked for a wage. One witness declared that painting came "as a talent to Velazquez, a gift, not as a trade or craft". He had never sold one of his works, painting solely for the enjoyment of His Majesty.
It is doubtful whether this can apply to the artist's youth in Seville. At that time Velazquez had chosen to paint quite ordinary folk, like the (later) weavers: a waterseller, or an old woman frying eggs in a kitchen. But at the age of 24 he entered a different, grander world: the Duke Olivares, one of the young king's ministers and favourites, introduced Velazquez to the court at Madrid. Here, over 1000 persons, their behaviour governed by the stiff court etiquette, orbited the godlike "Planet King". Velazquez did a portrait of the king which pleased him so much that he permitted only Velazquez to paint his portrait from then on.
Velazquez served the monarch for over 40 years. Two documents indicate the low status granted to the painter within the court hierarchy, whatever his value as an artist: "Like the king's barbor", the painter was to receive annually, besides his apartment and salary, "a suit of clothes to the value of 90 ducats". Together with the court fools and noblemen's lackeys he was given a seat in the fourth row whenever the court attended a bullfight. Velazquez could attain greater prestige in such a rigidly structured society only by applying, like other courtiers, for various official posts, though the work, which had little bearing on his work as an artist, prevented him from painting. He thus worked his way up through a series of appointments, such as Usher of the Chamber, Under-Chamberlain, and Assistant Curator of Royal Furniture.
It is therefore all the more astonishing that an artist so intent upon being seen as a nobleman should have painted The Tapestry-Weavers, one "of the oldest paintings of workers or factories" in art history, according to the art historian Carl Justi. In order to do so, he would almost certainly have had to obtain the permisson of Philip IV, himself an expert in artistic matters, who visited Velazquez nearly every day in his palace studio to watch him at work. For only the King could afford to abandon social prejudice to such an extent.

 


The revenge of the offended goddess
 


Velazquez
The Fable of Arachne
(detail)
c. 1657
Oil on canvas
Museo del Prado, Madrid
 

It was probably in the course of his work as Curator of Royal Furniture that the court painter Velazquez came into contact with spinners and weavers. Stored in the royal depots, besides furniture and paintings, were some 800 Flemish tapestries. From these the artist, aided by the Curator of Royal Tapestries, would choose the appropriate decoration for receptions held in the royal apartments. He would select tapestries with suitable themes, then pass them on to the Curator of Tapestries. The artist probably took charge of any necessary repairs, too, which were carried out in Madrid's carpet workshops. No carpets had been woven there for many years, and only mending work now took place. It was here, too, that Velazquez may have found his inspiration for The Tapestry-Weavers.
However, it is unlikely that the artist's sole intention was the realistic rendering of a working scene. His life was spent at a court where literary and scholarly allusions, as well as obscure codes, symbols and allegories, were highly fashionable. The riddle of the work known, since the 18th century, as The Tapestry-Weavers appears to have been solved in 1948, with the discovery by Spanish scholars that the painting, before entering the royal collection, probably belonged to Philip IV's Chief Equerry. It appears in his inventory of 1664 as The Fable of Arachne.
The young woman whose white arm is turning a reel of yarn is thus a mythical figure; her story is told by Ovid in the Sixth Book of his Metamorphoses. According to this account, the audacious Arachne challenged the goddess Pallas Athene, the inventor of the distaff, to a weaving competition. The goddess naturally won, and, to punish Arachne for her impudence, turned the young woman into a spider.
In the foreground of the painting Velazquez shows the young woman and the goddess at work. Pallas still wears her white veil: in order to enter the workshop she had disguised herself as an old woman, but her bare, youthful leg betrays her real identity. On the stage in the background she reappears victorious, now wearing her traditional armour, her hand raised to cast a spell over Arachne.
The double portrait of the goddess may have added, in the eyes of the artist's contemporaries who enjoyed discussing the relative significance of ranks and hierarchies, a further, allegorical dimension beyond that of the fable itself. In the lower half of the painting Pallas appears as the patron of embroiderers and weavers. At the higher level, in the background, four richly dressed ladies, possibly representing sculpture, architecture, painting and music (the latter with the attribute of the double bass) gather around the resplendent goddess. This is Pallas the tutelary goddess, whose sublime arts - which, with "nothing slavish" about them, are "worthy of the hidalgo" — triumph over a "menial" craft.
 

 


Homage to the Venetian master
 


Velazquez
The Fable of Arachne
(detail)
c. 1657
Oil on canvas
Museo del Prado, Madrid

Two putti can be distinguished in the tapestry at the back of the studio. They are shown against a cloud background above the sea, while on the right a pink veil floats skyward. The rest is hidden from view, but the subject would have been immediately familiar to a 17th-century connoisseur. For the tapestry is the reproduction of a famous and much-copied painting by Titian, in the Spanish royal family's possession since 1562: The Rape of Europa. Its theme was mythological, using an episode which also occurs in Ovid's version of the Arachne legend. Competing with Pallas, the young woman weaves a series of tapestries, the first of which shows the Rape of Europa by Zeus, disguised as a bull.
While cryptic allusions to hidden paintings complied with contemporary tastes in art, the reference in the present painting must also be seen as an act of homage by Velazquez to an admired Venetian master. Titian was the favourite painter of Charles V, Philip IV's great-grandfather, and several of his works hung in the latter's palace in Madrid. Velazquez made two extended journeys to Italy to study Titian's art and buy several of his paintings for the royal collection. He stayed there between 1629 and 1631, and from 1649 to 1651. This allowed him to escape the excruciating narrowness of the Spanish court, and to live unhampered by etiquette and hierarchy. In Italy he needed only to paint in order to gain recognition. He did not have to undergo the torments of a troublesome, time-consuming, appointment at court.
The Tapestry-Weavers was probably executed shortly before the artist's second journey to Italy. He was 47 years old at the time and still, after many years' service at court, the King's favourite. The monarch continued to forbid any other artist to paint his portrait, even when Velazquez was absent. His reputation as Spain's greatest painter was unchallenged, and his social standing improved, too. Since his appointment to the post of "Under-Cham-berlain in Effective Service", which gave him the right to carry at his belt the black key to the royal apartment, he was no longer obliged to sit with the lackeys at bullfights, but was given a more dignified position beside the Marshall of Ceremonies.
But there were other reasons to feel distressed. Like all court officials, Velazquez was a victim of the court's desperate financial plight. In 1648, shortly before his departure, he complained that he was still owed his salary for the years 1630 to 1634, as well as fees for paintings he had delivered between 1628 and 1640. But Philip IV and his country were bankrupt. The Spanish bid for European hegemony had failed; the enemy was ready to pounce, and the Spanish provinces were in a state of uproar. The situation was further exacerbated by the deaths of the Queen and the heir to the throne, making life in the monarch's immediate proximity doubly oppressive. It required the repeated and emphatic chiding of the King himself to induce Velazquez to return to Madrid from Italy. He returned to a palace where life was so dull that the poet Lope de Vega felt the figures on the palace tapestries, unable to escape, deserved the spectator's pity.

(Rose-Marie and Rainer Hagen)