miniatures

An Early Insight into Art Materials by Jeannine Cook

Happenstance has just given me a lovely gift of information. I was reading a wonderful biography by the late famed British historian, Hugh Trevor Roper, on the 17th century Huguenot physician, Theodore de Mayerne.  Brilliantly intelligent and successful, de Mayerne was first physician to King Henri IV of France, then attended James I of England and his successor, Charles I. 

Sir Theodore Turquet de Mayerne, to give him his full name, was bornin Geneva of French parents in 1573 and lived until 1654/55, ending his days in England.  This is a portrait thought to be done of him in London by Peter Paul Rubens about 1630.

Dr. Theodore de Mayerne, Peter Paul Rubens, c. 1630.  Image courtesy of the North Carolina Museum of Art, Raleigh, North Carolina

Dr. Theodore de Mayerne, Peter Paul Rubens, c. 1630.  Image courtesy of the North Carolina Museum of Art, Raleigh, North Carolina

De Mayerne was a multi-faceted scientist, in essence, for his interests and knowledge stretched far beyond the practise of medicine.  Chemist, Hermeticist, experimenter – on one side and on the other, a skilled linguist and writer, high-level diplomat and spy for his Royal employers, as well as deeply knowledgeable expert in art and art materials and practices.  In  short, a true Renaissance man. In 1620, he began with a flourish a new treatise entitled Pictoria, Sculptoria, et quae subalternarum artiumIn the many folios, he records observations, derived from reading in part but more from conversations with artists  and craftsmen, about their techniques, technical descriptions of materials used, sources of these materials and their chemical characteristics.

The hand-written title page of the Mayerne manuscript, 'Pictoria, sculptoria et quae subalternarum artium',England (London), 1620-1646,

The hand-written title page of the Mayerne manuscript, 'Pictoria, sculptoria et quae subalternarum artium',
England (London), 1620-1646,

 

Being a very prominent member of three Royal courts, he had the opportunity to meet a wide selection of artists and craftsmen.  He was ever curious and discussed with them different approaches to oil painting, mixing and preparing pigments, the best oils to use, surface preparation, conservation of art, the art of enamelling, watercolour and miniature painting and all manner of other information.  His friendships with Rubens, with Van Dyck, Orazio and his daughter, Artemisia Gentileschi, miniaturists Jean Petitot and John Hoskins and others were fruitful in the detailing of art technology in his folio notes.

Mayerne’s notes on the mixing of colours, taken from Peter Paul Rubens while sitting for his portrait

Mayerne’s notes on the mixing of colours, taken from Peter Paul Rubens while sitting for his portrait

Dr. Theodore de Mayerne, oil and black chalk, with grey wash, c. 1631, Peter Paul Rubens.  Image courtesy of the British Museum

Dr. Theodore de Mayerne, oil and black chalk, with grey wash, c. 1631, Peter Paul Rubens.  Image courtesy of the British Museum

 Mayerne’s notes on oil, taken from Anthony van Dyck,

 Mayerne’s notes on oil, taken from Anthony van Dyck,

De Mayerne continued with this art treatise for a number of years with the last entries in the 170 folios in 1646.  

Folios 5 & 9O, Theodore de Mayerne, Pictoria, Sculptoria...

Folios 5 & 9O, Theodore de Mayerne, Pictoria, Sculptoria...

After his death, the document ended up eventually in the British Library, under the filing, Sloane MS 2052.  From the time of Horace Walpole onwards, it has been considered an indispensable source of information on Dutch and Flemish painting in the Baroque era, allowing later scholars to learn of Northern European diverse art practices. Today, scientists still use De Mayerne's work as a vital source of information for the 17th century, on a par with Cennino Cennini's Il Libro dell' Arte for the early 15th century.  Manufacturers of Old Master materials still use De Mayerne's recipes - for  amber resin varnish, for example.  Countless art restorers, in the Prado Museum, the Getty and elsewhere, apparently refer to De Mayerne's careful records about art materials and contemporary techniques.

The more I read, the more I realise there is so much more to learn about.  I started reading Hugh Trevor Roper's wonderful Europe's Physician.  The various Life of Sir Theodore de Mayerne to learn about an early, prominent physician. I ended up learning about a meticulous chronicler of 17th century art and its practice. What a delicious bonus! 

Small Incidental Images by Jeannine Cook

I think I have always been attracted to the small and intimate, rather than the large and often grandiose in art. When I spent many hours in the Louvre as a young, homesick girl in Paris, I found myself constantly returning to the galleries where drawings, or small sculptures and other three-dimensional objects were displayed. Things that you could, in theory, hold in your hands, things that were proportioned to the human body, that could be studied close up and very attentively.

There is a discipline and orderliness required in small artwork for the close scrutiny required means that incoherence or mistakes show up more readily. Think of the rather extreme example of miniature portraits, that marvellous subset of likenesses on ivory, vellum or other delicate surfaces.

Henry Frederick, Prince of Wales, miniature portrait done about 1606 by Isaac Oliver (1558/68-1617), Image courtesy of the  Fitzwilliam  Museum

Henry Frederick, Prince of Wales, miniature portrait done about 1606 by Isaac Oliver (1558/68-1617), Image courtesy of the  Fitzwilliam  Museum

 Isaac Oliver miniature, done in 1615, portrait of Charles, Prince of Wales (later Charles I). Image courtesy of the Berger Collection, Denver, Colorado.

 Isaac Oliver miniature, done in 1615, portrait of Charles, Prince of Wales (later Charles I). Image courtesy of the Berger Collection, Denver, Colorado.

Such small images fascinate and delight. But there are plenty of other versions of diminutive artwork that can be arresting.  Lea Coll Wight, a highly acclaimed artist from New Jersey, writing in American Artist in November 2009, was quite correct when she observed, "The beauty of small incidental images can be as profound as those that are grand and orchestrated."

Perhaps the incidental aspect of life, when one is living amidst great natural beauty, is easier to see. A walk beneath wonderful trees, a stroll through a garden dancing with flowers, or even a bird-watching session ... can suddenly yield images that one translates later into artwork. The initial excitement can stay with one more easily if the resultant art is on a smaller scale. Perhaps that is why I love working in small scale silverpoint drawings - the passion can still burn brightly.

I think it also helps artists to keep fresh if they work on a scale that does not require enormous investments of time. I know that there are many times when context and commission require large work, but I sometimes wonder if the excitement can be sustained very easily in such cases. Perhaps, in the end, it is a matter of taste. I'll keep gravitating to the "small incidental images", I suspect!