Art Market

Art Market and Connoisseurship
A Closer Look at Paintings by Rembrandt,

Rubens and their Contemporaries
Art Market and Connoisseurship
A Closer Look at Paintings by Rembrandt,

Rubens and their Contemporaries
Edited by Anna Tummers and Koenraad Jonckheere
Amsterdam University Press

The publication of this book has been made possible by a grant from the Gravin van Bylandt Stichting,
the Jurriaanse Stichting and the Stichting Charema
Cover image: Pieter Brueghel the Elder, The Painter and the Connoisseur, mid-1560s, Grafische Sammlung
Albertina, Vienna
Design: Frederik de Wal, Schelluinen
ISBN 97 8908964 0321

NUR 640/658
© Tummers and Jonckheere / Amsterdam University Press, 2008
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this book may
be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means
(electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the written permission of both the
copyright owner and the author of the book.
A R T MAR KET A ND C O NNOISSEURSHIP 5
Table of Contents
7 .... Introduction
Eric Jan Sluijter
Determining Value on the Art Market in the Golden Age: An introduction
31 .... Chapter 1
Anna Tummers
‘By His Hand’: The Paradox of Seventeenth-Century Connoisseurship
69 .... Chapter 2
Koenraad Jonckheere
Supply and Demand: Some Notes on the Economy of Seventeenth-
Century Connoisseurship
97 .... Chapter 3
Natasja Peeters
‘Painters pencells move not without that musicke’: Prices of Southern
Netherlandish Painted Altarpieces between 1585 and 1650
127 .... Chapter 4

Anna Tummers
The Painter versus the Connoisseur? The Best Judge of Pictures
in Seventeenth-Century Theory and Practice
149 .... Chapter 5

Neil De Marchi and Hans J. Van Miegroet
The Rise of the Dealer-Auctioneer in Paris: Information and Transparency
in a Market for Netherlandish Paintings
175 .... Photocredits
177 .... Plates

Introduction
Eric Jan Sluijter
AR T MA RK ET A ND C ONNOISSEURSHIP 7
Determining Value
on the Art Market
in the Golden Age:
An Introduction
Introduction
An art historian who assesses the attributions of particular paintings in a scholarly

publication knows that this will have consequences for the art market. The art histo-
rian in question, however, usually prefers to ignore this because he sees his work as a
value-free analysis of certain qualities of the artwork in the service of constructing art
historical categorisations. However, the owner of the work will have a different opin-
ion. What a painting is valued at on the art market – especially paintings dating from
the last five centuries – mainly depends on the fact whether or not it is considered an
autograph work of a certain artist. A communis opinio among experts about authorship
guarantees a basic market value. The process of canon formation establishes a relative
value: X is on average more expensive than Y, but cheaper than Z. These values may
vary hugely, depending on the position of the master in the ‘ranking’, while other fac-
tors such as subject matter, condition, rarity, provenance, place of an individual work
within the oeuvre of a master and temporary phenomena like fashions and trends add
to the many imponderables that make the prices of works of art vary tremendously.
But when a work loses its aura of being by a certain artist’s hand, it is robbed of its
identity and becomes an outcast, even if none of the physical qualities and appearance
of the work have changed; the value plummets and becomes even more difficult to
assess than an ‘authentic’ work.
Outsiders find these kinds of fluctuations in monetary value on the art market
incomprehensible. This is nicely expressed by the Dutch saying, often used in this
context, that a work of art is worth ‘wat de gek ervoor geeft’(what the fool will bid for it).
When it concerns the value of art – and it applies to the works of the old masters as
well as for currently popular artists – the general opinion is that everything depends
8 E R I C J AN SL U I J TE R
on what an individual, based on his own idiosyncratic evaluation, is willing to pay for
it. Naturally, also the behaviour of this ‘fool’ who might pay a price that seems out-
rageous, is determined by his or her social and cultural environment, economic
circumstances and attitude towards market mechanisms.
In his essay ‘Pricing the Unpriced’ Marten Jan Bok referred to a discussion
between the Rotterdam economist Arjo Klamer and a group of contemporary artists
about their economic behaviour, in which the artists all emphasise their uncertainty
about market value.1 The essence of their remarks is that there is no standard method
for setting a price, but that the name and fame of the artist are decisive and determine
the basic level of his or her prices –we are confronted here with a ranking process –
and that prices are flexible, depending on the assets of the interested client. One of the
artists remarked: ‘It depends on what you can get. If I have a price of $3,000 in mind
for a painting and someone comes in who seems to be able to pay $10,000 I’ll ask
$10,000.’ But in the end, they all agree, it is a process of trial and error. Remarkably,
none of them mentioned the amount of time he or she spent on a work of art, the cost
of labour invested, which remains the most common way of earning an income in
most other professions. Did something like the attitude towards the art market as
described above exist in the seventeenth century, or was the amount of labour involved
a determining factor?
Giulio Mancini’s words, written between 1617 and 1621, are strikingly similar to
the modern artists’ views: ‘a painting in itself cannot have a definite price’ because its
value in part ‘is linked to the quality of the patron who owns it and the artist who
makes it’. Thus, the price depends ‘mainly on the taste and wealth of the buyer, and
the need of the owner [which might be the artist] to dispose of the work’.2 But these are
the words of a Roman art lover. Were opinions regarding the assessing of the value of a
work of art different in the Netherlands? What were the accepted seventeenth-century
practices? Which roles were played by the artists themselves, by connoisseurs, art lov-
ers or art dealers? How was value related to artistic qualities, name and authorship?
Who was credited with the ability to appraise and attribute pictures in theory and prac-
tice? Did seventeenth-century connoisseurs find it important that a picture was paint-
ed entirely by the hand of the master under whose name it was sold? And how did early
modern connoisseurship change as the market situation evolved and became increas-
ingly complex? The aim of the essays in this volume, which were generated by a confer-
ence on the joint study of the art market and early modern connoisseurship, organised
by Anna Tummers and Koenraad Jonckheere (University of Amsterdam, November
2005), is to answer some of those questions.
Over the past two decades, research on the seventeenth-century art market has
expanded enormously. However, as De Marchi and Van Miegroet already noted in 1994,
these studies ‘tended to accentuate the view that art is a commodity like any other’.3
Naturally, art was and is not a commodity like any other, because many immeasurable
factors come into play, such as technical, but especially the artistic qualities of the
product; such qualities, which are usually considered unique and often perceived
quite differently by everyone involved, can, over time, make this peculiar type of com-
modity much more expensive, but also much less, depending on changes in taste and
fashion. Koenraad Jonckheere demonstrated that, in the exchange of art objects, not
only commodities changed hands, but also information, favours, reputations, expecta-
tions, etc.4 How values, ideas and attitudes concerning art, as well as the individual
players, are connected with market practices, which are primarily about supply and
demand and the monetary value this engenders, is a question that still needs much
more research where the insights of art historians and socio-economic historians
must come together. The studies in this volume focus on the interaction between art-
ists, connoisseurs and art dealers in matters of authorship, value and pricing in partic-
ular, so that the fairly recent interest in early modern connoisseurship can be integrat-
ed into the current research on the art market.
One of the first scholars to examine seventeenth-century views on connoisseurship
and judgements about the authenticity of paintings was Jeffrey Muller in his article
‘Measures of Authenticity: The Detection of Copies in the Early Literature on Connois-
seurship’ (1989), in which he primarily examines cases involving the work of Rubens.5
More recently, Jaap van der Veen published a very important study in the latest volume
of A Corpus of Rembrandt Paintings (IV, 2005), titled ‘By his own hand. The valuation of
autograph paintings in the 17th century’.6 In the 1990s, the economist Neil De Marchi
and the art historian Hans Van Miegroet approached related questions from the per-
spective of the art market in two important articles ‘Art, Value and Market Practices in
the Netherlands in the Seventeenth Century’ (1994) and ‘Pricing Invention: “Origi-
nals”, “Copies”, and their Relative Value in Seventeenth Century Netherlandish Art
Markets’ (1996), while Marten Jan Bok’s aforementioned ‘Pricing the Unpriced: How
Dutch Seventeenth-Century Painters determined the Selling Price of their Works’
(1998), examined the artist’s side of assessing value.7 Recently, Marion Boers-Goosen’s
‘Prices of Northern Netherlandish Paintings in the Seventeenth Century’ focused on
the question of whether public authorities or wealthy patrons paid inflated prices, as
has often been assumed. Thought provoking arguments about the effect of developing
standards of quality were proposed by Ed Romein in ‘Knollen en citroenen op de
Leidse kunstmarkt: over de rol van kwaliteit in de opkomst van de Leidse fijnschilder-
stijl’ (Turnips and lemons on the Leiden art market: about the role of quality and the
emergence of the Leiden style of fine painting, 2001), while Elizabeth Honig came up
with fascinating insights into the new roles of Antwerp’s connoisseurs and the cultural
value of paintings (1995).8 The role of the city elite as a factor in the Antwerp art market
in the age of Rubens was assessed thoroughly only recently by Bert Timmermans in
his Ph.D. dissertation Een elite als actor binnen een kunstwereld. Patronen van patron-
age in het zeventiende-eeuwse Antwerpen (Leuven 2006).
In the essays published in this volume, the authors introduce new material and
ideas, but simultaneously build upon the older publications. These essays also
inspired the following introductory notes, which are mainly concerned with the ques-
tion of how the monetary value of paintings was assessed in continuous interaction
between artists and clients/patrons (art lovers, connoisseurs and art dealers).
Valore di fatica
Let us first consider the market behaviour of some seventeenth-century masters. In his
magisterial study on Guido Reni, Richard Spear demonstrates that two extremes exist-
ed in Italy simultaneously; this is exemplified by the most famous artists of that period
– artists who were both trained in the same studio and were fierce competitors: Guido
Reni and Guercino. The latter had a straightforward and businesslike attitude towards
the market. He determined his price carefully on the basis of the value of labour
expended, the valore di fatica, and attached fixed prices to the number of painted fig-
ures: approximately 100 ducats for each full-length, 50 per half-length, and 25 for
heads. According to Malvasia, Guercino had said that his pricing was determined by
‘what was common use and what others charged’.9 Moreover Guercino, who ran an effi-
cient studio, strictly differentiated between his own paintings and the studio’s. He was
very upset once when a copy of an altarpiece by one of his students was sold as an
original.
Reni, on the contrary, did not want set prices for pictures and, according to Malva-
sia, abhorred ‘the mention of price in a profession in which, he said, it should be oblig-
atory to negotiate on the basis of an honorarium or gift’. Malvasia recounts that ‘it was
Guido’s practice not to put a price on the works he painted for great personages and
men of means but rather to give the paintings to them. In this way he received much
more for them than was the custom or than he himself would have asked’.10 Reni tried
to rely on the valore di stima, on the estimation of value or worth, not determined by
the artist but by the client, the patron or a connoisseur after the painting was complet-
ed.11 Another significant contrast to Guercino was that Reni organised his studio in
such a way that the distinctions between autograph works, retouched works and good
copies were blurred.12 Spear concludes that Guercino ‘by sticking to such firm and old-
fashioned notions of pricing, by being so relatively forthright in indicating what is and
isn’t his, and by not promoting himself through marketing techniques, the artist sti-
fled any speculation that might have arisen around his work. … By contrast, Reni’s atti-
tude foreshadows aspects of our contemporary art market, where demand can outpace
supply and be manipulated by clever artists and their agents’.13 Regrettably, in the
Netherlands there was no equivalent to Malvasia who recorded such a wealth of infor-
mation about the Bolognese masters, but on the basis of a variety of sources it is possi-
ble to inquire whether similar phenomena can be discerned in the Netherlands.
The ‘craftsmanlike’ way of calculating price, largely determined by labour, in other

words, the time spent producing a work of art, must have been used by many artists. In
a few cases – and these are all ‘fine painters’ – we are certain they operated in this man-
ner. The best paid artists of the Dutch Golden Age, Gerrit Dou and Frans van Mieris,
were among them. Joachim von Sandrart informs us that Dou daily noted the exact
number of hours he devoted to a painting and charged ‘ein Pfund Flemsch’ (a Flemish
pound = 6 guilders) an hour, while Houbraken noted that Van Mieris calculated one
gold ducat (5 guilders) per hour.14 Considering the practice recorded in the surviving
account books of Adriaen van der Werff, undoubtedly the best paid artist of the follow-
ing generation, as well as his pupil Hendrick van Limborch, it is entirely plausible that
Dou and Van Mieris indeed determined a minimum price in this way, although the
figures reported seem exaggerated. That Dou and Van Mieris were able to pocket
excessive sums, however, is revealed by the fact that Dou received 4000 guilders from
the States of Holland for The Young Mother, as part of the Dutch Gift to Charles II, and
that Van Mieris was paid 2500 guilders by Cosimo III the Medici for a Family Concert. 15
In these cases, it seems that the status and wealth of the client – which was also men-
tioned by modern artists, as we have already seen – figures into the equation to a con-
siderable degree.
Adriaen van der Werff and Hendrick van Limborch’s account books, show that they
continued with this method, offering accurate information about how artist calculated
the price based on hours worked on a painting. Van Limborch noted with great preci-
sion every half a day he spent on an artwork (for history paintings the total number of
days could vary between 45 and 160 days; portraits took much less time); regrettably he
neither mentions the price for which a painting ultimately sold, nor the sum he
charged per day. Based on circumstantial evidence, Guido Jansen assumed that the lat-
ter must have been approximately 10 guilders per day.16 However, we do know Van der
Werff’s rates. Marten Jan Bok demonstrated that, whatever his subject, Van der Werff
would charge a basic rate of 25 guilders a day; the total number of days would deter-
mine the minimum asking price, which served more or less as a bottom line for price
negotiations with his patrons. To this he would add additional costs, such as the
frame, packing and transportation costs. ‘Then he would take a good look at the paint-
ing and decide what the market would bear: ‘maer segge …’ (but I will ask …). In this
way, he would arrive at a target figure for his negotiations. Sometimes he settled for
less, but there were occasions when he received more.17 Moreover, Van der Werff made
a distinction – not for the customer, but for his own calculations – between his own
labour and that of his brother and close collaborator Pieter. He calculated Pieter’s
labour, who did the groundwork for most of his paintings, at 25 guilders a day as well,
which means that Adriaen did not differentiate between the price of a picture he paint-
ed all by himself – which he rarely did – and a painting he did with Pieter, even if the
latter did the largest portion of the work.18 However, according to Johan van Gool,
Adriaen paid his brother only one ducat (5 guilders) a day, which means that Adriaen
made an extraordinary profit on Pieter’s labour.19 The above demonstrates that ulti-
mately Adriaen van der Werff guaranteed the quality of all the works that left his stu-
dio, pricing them on the basis of his personal reputation, regardless of the contribu-
tion made by his brother Pieter. I will eventually come back to this issue.
Bok also tested the relationship between size and labour and it appeared that
three-quarters of the difference in invested labour can be explained by the difference
in size of the panels. This must have often been the case. For example, we find a land-
scape by Herman Saftleven in the inventory of baron Willem Vincent van Wyttenhorst
for which, according to his own notes, Van Wyttenhorst paid 120 guilders; for a land-
scape ‘halff soo groot als de bovenstaende’ (half the size of the one mentioned above),
Saftleven was paid exactly half that sum: 60 guilders.20 A painter like Cornelis van Poe-
lenburch probably used a similar method. Van Wyttenhorst’s inventory, which was
drawn up between 1651 and 1659, contains a large number of paintings by Van Poelen-
burch (57), most of which were purchased directly from the artist. The prices Van
Wyttenhorst recorded having paid vary greatly, from 36 to 464 guilders. The inexpen-
sive ones are recorded as being small landscapes (to which Van Wyttenhorst added
that the value had risen, which means that he must have bought them a considerable
time earlier and that, in the meantime, the prices for Van Poelenburch’s work had
increased). The most expensive piece is indeed described as being ‘large’. That the
price varies more than the difference in size would warrant, is due to the fact that it
was a history painting. All the costly works by Van Poelenburch in this inventory are
history paintings with numerous figures, such as ‘a piece representing the Passion’
or ‘the martyrdom of St. Lawrence’, which took a great deal more time to paint than
a landscape containing only a few small figures.
Concerning calculations of monetary value, we do not have information about
painters who used a rapid technique, but it seems likely that an artist like Jan van
Goyen calculated the price in the same ‘craftsmanlike’ manner. These painters used
a method of working that was geared towards high levels of production while saving
labour, which resulted in lower prices per painting and – at least initially – higher prof-
it margins. As far as we can gather from various sources, the prices of a painting by Van
Goyen – who, Van Hoogstraten recounts, could produce a painting in one day – would
have been approximately 10 guilders for a small painting and 60 for a large one.21
His artistry and incredible virtuosity must have been greatly admired by connoisseurs;
Huygens mentions Van Goyen in the same breath as Van Poelenburch, while Orlers
pays even more attention to him as to Rembrandt and emphasises that his work was
greatly valued.22 Van Poelenburch and Van Goyen could probably charge more or less
the same daily rate. It seems reasonable to assume that Van Poelenburch, whose paint-
ings appear to be on average about ten times more costly than Van Goyen’s, indeed
worked about ten times as long on a painting. Guessing from the prices and the time
they presumably spent on a painting, I estimate that both calculated approximately
eight to 10 guilders a day. This is more or less the same amount that, according to
Houbraken, Nicolaes Berchem earned at the time he worked in the service of a certain
patron.23
But what does it mean that the daily rates varied considerably between different
artists when using this method of calculating monetary value? With this obvious ques-
tion we arrive at the cost of the reputation of an artist. How was this reputation deter-
mined and how was it translated into hard cash? Also in the seventeenth century it was
a matter of ‘trial and error’, as we shall see. Whenever there was a conflict, appraisers
could be appointed by the guild, which means there must have been a certain level of
consensus among professionals about the ranking according to reputation and the
reflection of this in the daily rates they could charge. Based on the rates mentioned
above – Dou and Van Mieris 6 and 5 guilders per hour respectively, Van der Werff
25 guilders a day (while his brother was paid only five), Van Limborch probably around
10 guilders, Berchem 10 guilders – the 3 guilders per hour charged by Caesar van Ever-
dingen when he executed the shutters of the organ of the Alkmaar St. Lawrence church
in 1643, may come as a surprise.24 This is similar to the rates charged by mediocre Ant-
werp painters like Justus Daneels (4 guilders) or Abraham Snellinck (3 guilders),25
while the services of Jan Brueghel II could be had for a rate that was equivalent to 5 or
6 guilders per day.26 Considering Van Everdingen, however, we should not only realise
that the rates of Dou, Van Mieris and Van der Werff were excessively high, but also that
this low figure undoubtedly has to do with the stage of his career: he was 26 years old
and as yet only a local celebrity who executed those organ shutters after designs by
Jacob van Campen.27 Another daily rate that we are able to calculate more or less is that
of Bartholomeus van der Helst. He received some 10 guilders a day during the period
that he worked on two portraits of Van Wyttenhorst and his wife. He worked on the
paintings for six weeks and was paid 350 guilders; but he also received bed and board,
since he lodged with Van Wyttenhorst, during the weeks he was painting the portraits,
as the baron meticulously noted.28
The rates that Dou, Van Mieris and Van der Werff charged seem outrageous,
indeed, but, as Marten Jan Bok pointed out to me, it is a common phenomenon in
these kind of rankings that it leads to extremes at the high end of the market. Such
distributions are found everywhere and seem quite natural (this is certainly the case
with present-day soccer players: the best one is paid twice as much as the second best,
who is paid two thirds more that the third best, who is paid 50% more than the fourth
best, and so on).
That a painter could miscalculate his reputation is evident from another case con-
cerning Van der Helst. From the proceedings of a lawsuit that dates from 1665, we
learn how his reputation was expressed in terms of money.29 Van der Helst charged no
less than 1000 guilders for a family portrait (representing husband, wife, child and
greyhound) and this price was contested. The painting was subsequently valued by two
independent appraisers, the painters Dirck Bleecker and Jacob Coolen. They
estimated the portrait was worth 400 guilders. In fact, they appraised it at 300 guilders,
but ‘considering the good name and reputation of the painter’ (ten respecte van de
meester syn name ende reputatie) 100 guilders could be added to the estimate.30 Hence,
Van der Helst’s reputation was evaluated at a premium of one third of what they con-
sidered the minimum price of such a portrait (in terms of Van Wyttenhorst’s payment,
this would have meant about five weeks of work). Obviously Van der Helst was of a dif-
ferent opinion, but in this case his ‘trial’ ended up as a total ‘error’. He had hoped to
be paid for the valore di stima, but had far overrated the value of his name and reputa-
tion, and was subsequently punished with a lawsuit and rebuked by the judgement of
two respectable colleagues from Haarlem.
Painters often tried to see how high they could go, not unlike the twentieth-century
artist who declared that he would put the price at $10,000 for a painting he valued at
$3,000 if he thought he could sell it for that amount. Vroom’s bizarre proposal of
charging 6,000 guilders for a large painting of the Battle of Gibraltar is well known.
It was to be a painting offered as a present by the Amsterdam admiralty to Prince
Maurits; Vroom did not receive the commission.31 Jacob Jordaens attempted to pocket
800 guilders for a painting in the town hall of Hulst for which, as it turned out, the
municipal government had only reserved 100 ducats [c. 315 guilders]; ultimately
Jordaens had to settle for 500 guilders.32 Rembrandt seems to have been involved in
similar sorts of affairs more often than other painters.
Valore di stima
It seems that Rembrandt tried to have the monetary value of his work determined sole-
ly by quality and reputation, the valore di stima, as opposed to hours of labour spent,
leaving it to the client/connoisseur’s judgement what the painting was worth upon
completion of the work. Rembrandt often expected exceptional sums – but he did not
always succeed – at least not in the cases known to us.33 This was already the case with
his first important commission, the Passion series for the stadtholder Frederick Henry
– of which he might have made the first painting on his own initiative, offering it
(through Huygens) to the stadtholder. He grossly over-estimated the value of the paint-
ings, but simultaneously made it clear that he would adjust the price to whatever the
court was willing to pay him (‘I shall be satisfied with what His Excellency pays me’).
It appears from the well-known correspondence with Constantijn Huygens that
Rembrandt initially, in 1636, thought that he ‘certainly deserved’ 1200 guilders a piece
for the first three paintings.34 He eventually received 600 guilders each. In 1639, he
believed that the last two paintings ‘will be considered of such quality that His High-
ness will now even pay me not less than a thousand guilders each’, but he added:
‘should His Highness consider that they are not worth this, he shall pay me less accord-
ing to his own pleasure’.35 Also for these paintings he was rewarded 600 guilders each,
which caused Rembrandt to write the self-assured but bitter words: ‘… if His Highness
cannot in all decency be moved to a higher price, though they are obviously worth it,
I shall be satisfied with 600 Carolus guilders each …’.36 By writing ‘they will be consid-
ered of such quality …’ Rembrandt makes it clear that he does not want to calculate in
terms of labour, but exclusively in terms of the high quality of the paintings and the
reputation of its maker, the final decision being up to the client, whom he expects will
pay substantially for the works. Rembrandt also wanted it to be understood that the
long time he worked on those paintings should not be thought of as time devoted to
manual labour, as was still usually the case; the cause of the prolonged genesis was
that ‘die meeste ende die natuereelste beweechgelickheijt in geopserveert is’ (the most
natural motion and emotion has been observed).37 Hence, according to Rembrandt,
it was entirely due to the intellectual factor in the process of creation. However, he had
far overreached; his reputation at the court and the willingness to pay up for this were
not what he expected. However, he ultimately understood that he had to swallow some
of his pride and be satisfied with what he could get. As a matter of fact, seven years
later, in 1646, he did succeed in receiving 1200 guilders a piece for two additional
paintings, but we do not know what he himself was asking for the pieces at the time.
Compared to the 500 guilders which painters like Pieter de Grebber, Salomon de Bray,
Theodoor van Thulden and Jacob Jordaens probably received for triumphal scenes in
the Oranjezaal that were more than two meters high (undoubtedly the price for these
works was agreed to in advance),38 the sums Rembrandt received were indeed extrava-
gant for paintings of less than a meter high.39
Delaying the delivery of commissioned works, as Malvasia pointed out in regard to
Reni’s market strategies, could have been ‘a shrewd device for making his works more
desirable and consequently more esteemed because they were so difficult to obtain’.40
That Rembrandt had a similar attitude seems to be confirmed by Houbraken who
remarks: ‘His art was so much admired and sought after in his own time, that, as the
saying goes, one had to beg and throw in money to boot.’41 Rembrandt’s attempt to
offer Constantijn Huygens a large painting seems to be another aspect of this valore di
stima strategy. Mancini praised this method of ‘giving’ works of art, because it sig-
nalled good will, courtesy and honour, and he added that ‘through this [way of negoti-
ating] one sees extravagant prices and compensation in the great generosity of some
gracious person or prince’.42 Rembrandt’s words in his letter to Huygens allow us to
infer that the latter had told Rembrandt that the painting was not welcome. Huygens
was probably much more frugal than Rembrandt expected,43 and might have been
afraid that Rembrandt counted on a princely sum for such a major painting; and/or he
simply did not want to feel obligated to continue promoting Rembrandt’s career.44
Nonetheless, Rembrandt sent the painting (probably the Blinding of Samson) ‘against
my lord’s wishes, hoping that you will not spurn [my gift] ...’45 As with the other paint-
ings, Rembrandt seems to have greatly misjudged the ‘generosity of gracious persons
and princes’, but he insisted on delivering the painting anyway. The presence of a
spectacular and eye-catching work in the house of someone who was as a spider in the
web of courtly commissions and probably the key figure in a circle of elite connois-
seurs,46 was already a good enough reason to take the trouble.47
An exorbitant asking price may also have been the cause of Andries de Graeff’s bat-
tle with Rembrandt, although we cannot be sure what actually caused their disagree-
ment. 48 Hendrick Uylenburg ‘and other good men’ acted as arbiters in the case and
decided on a payment of 500 guilders, which was still a very high figure. My guess is
that Rembrandt simply over-estimated ‘the generosity’ of this ‘gracious person’ – a
man from the top of the Amsterdam elite – to pay substantially extra for Rembrandt’s
reputation. In his dealings with Don Antonio Ruffo from Messina, Rembrandt eventu-
ally seemed to get his way. He was asking 500 guilders for the Aristotle, which he
received. For the second painting, the Alexander that Ruffo commissioned, he asked
the same price, but sent a painting of Homer, which Ruffo had not commissioned,
along with it. For that one he wanted 500 guilders as well, if Ruffo would allow him to
finish the painting. Ruffo complained about ugly seams he noticed in the Alexander,
because the painting consisted of several pieces of canvas sewn together, and offered
Rembrandt 500 guilders for the two, adding that this was already five times as much as
he would pay an Italian master for works of this kind; he maintained that the going
rate was 25 ducats per head (62.5 guilders), and 50 (125 guilders) for a half-figure –
which were the exact prices that Guercino charged, whom he must have had in mind.
Rembrandt did not give in and responded rather impudently ‘I believe there must be
few connoisseurs (he probably used the word liefhebber) in Messina’, by which he
meant to say: people capable of judging the value of his work. He added: ‘I am sur-
prised that your Lordship should lament as much about the price as about the canvas’,
implying that a prestigious patron should be willing to pay this kind of price.49 This is
in great contrast to Mattia Preti and Guercino’s attitude, who were always ready to
please Ruffo. Guercino received 150 guilders for the companion piece to the Aristotle
that he had painted for Don Antonio (the Cosmographer), which was a bit more than
usual because, as he wrote, ‘it is of exceptional size for a figure in half-length’.
Rembrandt behaved more like the notorious Salvator Rosa who demanded the extraor-
dinary price of 1500 guilders for two paintings of Pythagoras, a price which Ruffo tried
to bargain down. The artist responded to the patron’s agent that he would rather die of
hunger than dishonour his reputation.50 Don Antonio eventually conceded, as he
seems to have done with Rembrandt as well. These were artists who were extremely
assertive about the high quality of their art and the monetary value of their name and
reputation. In Italy, this might have worked with artists like Reni and Rosa, but in
Holland it seems to have been more problematic.
Fascinating documents, discovered only very recently, that record an exceptional
commission of two altarpieces for a church in Genoa in 1666/7 fit this image perfect-
ly.51 The Genoese nobleman Francesco Maria Sauli wanted Rembrandt first to paint
two modelli (one an Ascension of the Virgin) before granting him the full commission.
The negotiations were conducted by a certain Gio Lorenzo Viviano, captain of a ship
then harboured in Amsterdam, who was assisted by two of Sauli’s business agents. Viv-
iano and the agents complained several times in their letters to Sauli that it took Rem-
brandt an endless amount of time to finish the modelli, which he had promised to
complete within a month, and that one could not rely on the word of this difficult and
eccentric artist. They also thought that Rembrandt asked an outrageous price for the
modelli, causing them to wonder what the large paintings would cost and how long it
would take to finish them! However, Sauli was undaunted by this discouraging infor-
mation and clearly wanted to move forward with the commission. The price was
indeed outrageous. At a certain point, the captain was in despair and wrote that he did
not know how to manage Rembrandt, as the paintings were still not finished, and
moreover, Rembrandt suddenly wanted 3000 guilders, despite his original request of
1200 guilders. In the end, after eight months of constant pressing and urging of the
artist, the paintings were finished; the price they had agreed upon was 1023.15 guil-
ders. In the context of this essay, the most telling part of the correspondence is the
agents’ report that Rembrandt apologizes for the delay with the contention that he
cannot finish the paintings in a shorter time, ‘applying himself to this task with the
utmost mental commitment.’52 To this they added that ‘he wishes to acquire fame and
honour in our parts.’53 Concerning the substantial compensation, they write that
Rembrandt ‘wants a lot of money, because he maintains that he is someone who has
knowledge of the art of painting and therefore stands his ground.’54 The pattern
described above is confirmed again by this example. It demonstrates Rembrandt’s
exceptional conviction about his stature as an artist and the quality and high monetary
value of his art, while highlighting his inability or unwillingness to conceal his
contempt for those who disagree with him. He, as a renowned artist, is the one who
has true knowledge of art.55 The long time it may take to finish the works is due to
mental exertion and for this reason, patrons must simply be patient. His goal is to
acquire honour and fame, but he tends to overrate the monetary value related to his
fame as an artist. His unaccommodating attitude, caused foremost by his strong sense
of artistic autonomy, made him a very difficult painter to deal with. Sauli, as a matter
of fact, seems to be the kind of patron who was accustomed to this and knew that it
was he who had to decide about the paintings’ value in the end: ‘he [Rembrandt] will
have to be satisfied with what is reasonable and we for our part will not deviate from
what is customary and from what the work is worth. He will have to explain exactly
what he wants when he delivers the models or drawings, and then it will be up to us to
respond,’ Sauli writes. Italian princely connoisseurs probably knew better how to han-
dle this type of artists than patrons from the Dutch burgher elite.
But what about Rubens? After listening to someone praising Rubens’s great wealth,
style of living and grand image, Guido Reni would have declared, according to Pietro
da Cortona, that he, Reni, painted ‘for glory and immortality, whereas Rubens busied
himself painting for lowly interests and hankering for worldly gain’.56 Natasja Peeters
in her article in this volume, in which she analyzes how Rubens determined the prices
of some 30 altarpieces created by the master and his workshop, demonstrates that
things were not that simple. Although Rubens himself had written that ‘one evaluates
pictures … according to their excellence, their subject and number of figures’, and Jan
van Vucht, in a letter to Balthasar Moretus, insisted that ‘… for 200 or 250 florins, he
does not do much, unless you are content with a composition with one or two figures’,
which in turn reminds us of Guercino’s pricing strategy, Peeters shows that there were
remarkable differences in price between altarpieces that were seemingly similar in
size and in the number of figures. She concluded that with the pricing, intangible fac-
tors, such as personal relations and the wealth of the patron, also played a large role.
She did not find any correlation between pricing and the number of figures in the case
of these altarpieces. Rubens’s prices for altarpieces, which doubled in the later years
of his career, had more to do with his reputation and his ‘excellence’ than numbers of
figures or size, Peeters contends. The ‘connoisseurial’ appreciation of his ‘excellence’
certainly had a price. Rubens, according to Balthasar Moretus, even sent less compe-
tent connoisseurs to a lesser and cheaper artist (cf. Natasja Peeters essay in this
volume, pp. 97-124).
By the master’s own hand
A daunting issue that inevitably comes into play when discussing the value of seven-
teenth-century paintings, is the extent to which a painting is actually by the master’s
own hand, or a collaborative work, a copy, or a copy retouched by the master. Peeters
assumes that the level of studio participation could also account for some of the lower
prices in her sample of altarpieces, but it seems impossible to assess to what degree.
In the case of retouched workshop ‘products’, there is a bit more clarity, because of the
fascinating and well-known correspondence between Rubens and Sir Dudley Carleton.
The letter in which Rubens explains rather precisely what he did entirely himself and
what was done by collaborators or pupils, is extensively discussed in Anna Tummers’s
article in this volume (pp. 31-66), where she demonstrates, among other things, that in
earlier discussions of Rubens’s comments in connection with the question of what
authenticity meant during that period, one often arrived at conclusions that were not
entirely correct. She infers from the letters that not only Rubens, but also his client
Carleton were not that concerned whether a painting was entirely by Rubens’s own
hand.
In their groundbreaking article on ‘Pricing Invention’, De Marchi and Van Mie-
groet also referred to this correspondence to point out the differences in prices
between extensively retouched studio copies and paintings that were, according to
Rubens, done entirely by his own hand. 57 However, and this is in line with Tummers’s
argument, I would like to add that, in contrast to what De Marchi and Van Miegroet
maintained, it seems more remarkable how almost negligible those differences actu-
ally are. De Marchi and Van Miegroet set out to demonstrate that in the seventeenth
century ‘invention’ became an important economic factor, reason why a ‘principaal’
(a work that is not a copy) is more expensive than a copy – even if the copy is by the
hand of the master himself. To this purpose they adduce the fact that Rubens recom-
mends all the paintings he offers Carleton for sale as being ‘by his own hand’, but that
the prices of the works he described as copies retouched by him – and which were,
according to Rubens as good as the works that were entirely autograph – were priced
considerably lower. However, I would argue that other conclusions are possible if one
examines the list carefully.58 ‘A Sebastian, nude, by my own hand’ of 7 x 4 foot, had the
same price tag as the only slightly larger ‘Susanna, done by one of my pupils, but then
entirely retouched by my hand’ of 7 x 5 feet, (both 300 guilders). The authors argue that
a retouched copy of the Last Judgement was much less expensive (1200 guilders) than
the original and they attribute this to the fact that in this case one did not have to pay
for the invention.59 However, Rubens described this work as ‘begun by one of my
pupils, after one which I did in a much larger size for the Most Serene Prince of
Neuburg, who paid me 3500 florins cash for it; but this one, not being finished would
be entirely retouched by my own hand, and by this means would pass as original.’
A simpler explanation is that the original was, first of all, considerably larger, as
Rubens himself explicitly points out, and secondly, that the incredible price he
received for that painting – which Rubens undoubtedly mentioned to show Carleton
that he was giving him a bargain – must have been an inflated price paid by a prince-
connoisseur. But more importantly, it would take Rubens much less of his costly time
to touch up a copy painted by a pupil than to paint an original. Remarkably, the 13 x 9
foot painting was still by far the most expensive that Rubens offered Carleton, more
than twice as much as a ‘Daniel among many lions …Original, entirely by my hand’ of
8 x 12 foot. For Rubens, it must have been of paramount importance that these
retouched paintings looked as good as his originals – a difference in quality would not
have been discernible. On the surface the paintings would reveal the inimitable hand
of the master and they were, as much as the ‘originals’, his intellectual property. When
he pointed out that ‘well-retouched copies … show more for their price’, he merely
meant that these were less expensive because it had taken him much less time to pro-
duce, not that retouched paintings would necessarily be of a lower quality. A connec-
tion between ‘original’ and ‘invention’ does not seem to be an issue here.
The fact that Jan Brueghel II charged half the price for copies which were made by
himself and not by an assistant, as is recorded in his diary, plays an important role in
De Marchi and Van Miegroet’s argument that invention became an economic basis for
a distinction between original and copy. However, it seems to me that this cannot be
inferred from these examples. A more likely reason is that the number of days spent
on a copy (Brueghel calculated 5 to 6 guilders a day) is considerably less than what he
needed for painting a ‘principaal’. Apart from the fact that a ‘principaal’ was more
expensive because it could be used for ‘exclusive’ copying,60 the difference in price with
a copy was, in my opinion, not so much due to a clear distinction between the origina-
tion of the creative individual (invention) and the manual execution, but largely to
costs involving the talent and reputation of the artist who had to work much longer on
a new painting.61 Remarkably, copies were sometimes valued as highly. An interesting
case is the following entry by the previously mentioned Van Wyttenhorst about a copy
after Cornelis van Poelenburch: ‘the Magi, at first very accurately copied by Steenber-
gen and afterwards totally overpainted by Poelenburch; first paid 36 guilders for copy-
ing and afterwards one 100 guilders for the overpainting’.62 This painting, a copy by an
assistant and overpainted by Van Poelenburch, was one of Wyttenhorst’s most expen-
sive paintings. It must have been the hand of the master himself that determined the
price. That it was not a new invention does not seem to have mattered. If a copy was by
a renowned master, as we know from famous copies by Andrea del Sarto after Raphael,
Ludovico Carracci after Parmigianino, Rubens after Titian or Mignard after Reni,63 they
could have been as expensive or even more. We find this same situation also in Van
Wyttenhorst’s inventory, where he describes two copies by Cornelis van Poelenburch
after landscapes with biblical scenes by Adam Elsheimer, in both instances, adding: ‘…
is valued more highly than the principael.’64
The master’s touch plays a considerable role in discussions about early modern
attitudes towards authenticity and authorship, a subject on which scholarly opinions
differ widely. Anna Tummers examines the many problems connected with this chal-
lenging topic in the above mentioned essay in this volume (pp. 31-66), in which she
analyzes the available evidence. She introduces previously overlooked primary sources
and places these in a broader perspective, examining how important it was for seven-
teenth-century painters and connoisseurs that a painting was done entirely by the mas-
ter under whose name it was sold. A painter could consider works that were not entirely
painted by himself as being ‘by his own hand’. As we have already seen, for Adriaen van
der Werff, to name just one example, the fact that his brother Pieter actually had a large
share in the production of a particular painting and not the other, did not make any
difference in the selling price. In each of these cases, Adriaen van der Werff painted the
finishing touch and guaranteed their quality. Tummers argues that it was the quality
that counted, which means that a painting did not needed to be entirely autograph. She
demonstrates that the master’s touch was considered of great importance for the con-
noisseur in discerning good paintings from copies and studio productions. But she
also shows that they were not that preoccupied with the question of whether or not the
painting was entirely autograph. In many cases, they would have assumed that the less
important parts were done by assistants anyway, which called for a ‘hierarchical’ way of
looking at the works, where one had to focus on the key elements in a painting.
The buyer’s opinion
Naturally, clients took it for granted that the master’s work was of higher quality than
the assistant’s, even if the ‘identity’ of a great artist was not yet an issue. This easily led
to potential tension between the interests of producers or sellers and clients. In early
contracts for altarpieces we find already stipulations that the master had to paint it
‘with his own hand’ and thus without the assistance of pupils – the first case Liesbeth
Helmus records is a contract from 1498.65 In another contract it is stipulated that the
master who received the commission should do the most important parts himself,
such as ‘all the naked parts [i.e., faces, hands, etc.] and the most important sections’
(alle de naecten ende ‘t principael werc). In 1520, this led to a lawsuit because the paint-
er of an altarpiece, Albert Cornelis, disagreed with his patrons about what this meant.
He had done the faces with his own hand, saying that he was obliged ‘to produce only
the faces with his own hands, because here lies the most art’ (zelve metter handt te
makene dan de aenzichten, daar de meeste const an licht).66 In fact, this is not so differ-
ent from the seventeenth-century customer who felt cheated because he bought a
painting for 17 guilders, after having been told by a dealer that it was an excellent work
by a certain master, but was then informed by the artist himself – who was later con-
sulted by the apparently suspicious buyer – that it concerned a painting by his hum-
blest pupil, and that he sold it to the dealer for only 5 guilders and would never have let
it pass as a work of his own.67 In both cases, it is the hand of the master himself that
guaranteed the best quality for the customer, but in this last case, the owner of the
painting was obviously not an expert capable of making a judgement about such mat-
ters. However, this client was lucky that he could still return to the painter of the work.
When a work of art was by an artist who was dead, one had to rely on one’s own knowl-
edge and experience or on that of an expert or dealer. Jonckheere’s book The Auction of
King William’s Paintings contains numerous examples of foreign collectors who relied
completely on the knowledge and expertise of their agents in Holland when buying
‘Old Master Paintings’.68 Others, however, did their research and consulted independ-
ent connoisseurs, as Jonckheere argues in his essay in this volume (pp. 69-95).
Contracts for fifteenth and sixteenth century altarpieces often included stipula-
tions that a committee of guild members would upon completion judge whether the
price was justified by the quality of the altarpiece. However, those who did the assess-
ing of the quality and value of paintings (and the aspects that contributed to that
value), changed significantly over the course of the sixteenth century – and this hap-
pened first in Antwerp – a period in which religious and secular panel paintings
became commodities in an increasingly market-oriented society, commodities to be
appreciated and enjoyed by burghers as decorations for their private homes. The ten-
sions that arose between Amsterdam guild members and art dealers who had come
from the Southern Netherlands in the early seventeenth century, seems to have been
part of this process of change. In 1608, shortly before the signing of the Twelve Years’
Truce, and continuing during the next few years, a large number of paintings from
Antwerp apparently flooded the Dutch market and was sold at auctions.69 The estab-
lished painters demanded that the city council immediately enact measures to con-
tain this influx from the south. They complained that these paintings were being sold
for much more than their value through ‘cunning and ungodly importunity’, because
the ‘majority [are] poor copies’. Stimulated by profit, they contended, these interlopers
obtain as many paintings as possible in Antwerp and the surrounding area, ‘such that
a multitude of paintings is presently at [their] disposal, in order to be sold here in the
above-mentioned manner’. The Amsterdammers were convinced that ‘in a short time
this city, yea, the entire country will be filled with rubbish and inferior apprentices’
work’, adding that ‘the good burghers here, who by and large have little knowledge of
painting, [are being] deceived’.70 In a petition dating from 1613, the sellers were said
to withdraw the better works when bids were too low, ‘such that the country was being
inundated mostly by copies and other worthless rubbish occasioning the ridicule of all
distinguished art lovers and the noticeable disrepute of art’. Although the guild mem-
bers cited the inferior quality of the works as the main reason for their concern,
capitalising on customers’ fears relating to the unwitting purchase of copies instead

of an ‘original’ (principaal), their real objection (and panic) had, in my opinion, to do
with the fact that the intruders were successful. Evidently, there was no shortage of
customers for the imports from Antwerp. These paintings sold readily for prices the
Amsterdam guild members felt were far too high. In other words, they were in great
demand – despite the disparaging judgement of the dean and headmen – by a public
that was willing to pay more than they were worth, at least, according to local painters,
who wanted to protect heir own production.
The question is whether the quality of the imported paintings was, indeed, as
inferior as their critics would have us believe. They were inexpensive compared to the
paintings that established local painters tended to produce, and undoubtedly, that
was a significant enough threat. The paintings were probably cheaper because they
were made using different production methods, for example, by means of less time-
consuming and labour-intensive techniques. This alone was enough for the Amster-
dam guild members to label them as rubbish, apprentices’ work and copies; this was
the most obvious vocabulary for expressing scathing censure.71 Moreover, when these
works sold for prices higher than the guild members deemed appropriate based on
criteria of technical execution and time invested, the traditional way in which they
assessed prices was entirely overturned. For those who imported this ‘Brabant rub-
bish’, apparently ‘what the fool was willing to bid for it’ was all that mattered. Sudden-
ly the artists themselves were no longer determining the price based on conventional
rules of thumb; it was now the dealers and their clients who determined the monetary
value of works of art and they did so on much more imponderable grounds such as
subject matter and ‘handeling’(manner of painting), factors which became dependent
on trends and fashions in taste. And one wonders whether the buyers were indeed
mostly burghers ‘who by and large [had] little knowledge of paintings’. There were
plenty of knowledgeable individuals in attendance at the auctions, which probably
only further incited the fierce response of the guild. The same names appear over and
over again, especially of Amsterdammers of Southern Netherlandish – usually Antwerp
– origin, who were often registered as painters, but were presumably primarily active as
dealers.72 They probably sold the works chiefly among their own circle – that is to
Southern Netherlandish immigrants, who were now in a position to purchase a type of
art that was already familiar to them. In this way, new standards for quality and value
were established for new types of paintings by new audiences. From this time onward,
competing notions about who had the expertise to actually judge paintings – practis-
ing artists or art lovers/connoisseurs – would continue to rage. In her second article in
this volume (pp. 127-147), Anna Tummers examines this fascinating discussion, ana-
lysing such issues in theoretical sources and connecting the diverging opinions to
practices on the art market; in both cases, the amateur-connoisseurs became more
prominent as the century progressed.
Karel van Mander was already somewhat uncomfortable with the phenomenon
that new parties were able to establish the value of paintings, which went hand in
hand with the increased popularity of various emerging genres of paintings. This is
especially apparent when he begins describing the life of David Vinckboons with a
peculiar exhortation in which he states in a rather roundabout way that, because ‘his
own understanding or judiciousness might not be good enough in itself to write with
discrimination and proper discretion about the practitioners of our art or their works’,
he makes it a habit, when he enters the houses of art lovers, ‘to take heed and note
which artful works and by whose hand have been gathered and been valued there as
being special and excellent’. Thus, he not only follows his own understanding, but
also ‘the consensus of the connoisseurs’, and for that reason, he cannot, he notes,
omit David Vinckboons.73 Especially when discussing the painters specialising in the
new genres – from Pieter Bruegel and Gillis van Coninxloo, to Jacob Grimmer, Pieter
Baltens, Cornelis Molenaar, Hans Bol, Hendrick van Steenwijck and David Vinck-
boons – Van Mander emphasises that they were popular among art lovers. Apparantly,
it was the appreciation of art lovers that determined their reputation; thus, Van Man-
der felt compelled to hide behind their assessments when he discussed Vinckboons.
The assessments of art lovers, who were often also ‘amateur dealers’ must have
been crucial for the many young painters beginning their careers in the early seven-
teenth century. To be ‘held in great esteem by art lovers’ ( bij den liefhebbers in grooter
weerden ghehouden) 74 – which also meant being able to command higher prices – must
have become imperative. A few decades later, in 1642, it seems obvious to Jan Orlers,
himself an art lover, that the admiration of art lovers and the value they attached to a
painter’s work were the criteria that one should use to select a painter as an important
asset to the fame of the city, and to be praised in his prestigious Description of the City
of Leyden.75 To Orlers, it was fairly evident that Jan van Goyen was the greatest land-
scape painter of his time, since his renown ‘can be evidenced by many paintings which
are held in high value by all art lovers’; and the greatness of Gerrit Dou can be affirmed
because ‘his work is highly valued by art lovers and is sold for high prices’. In that
same year, Philips Angel made clear that the criteria of what made a good painter were
the things that art lovers liked to see and found attractive.76
It is obvious that these art lovers needed knowledge to discern the differences in qual-
ity, or they needed the help of reliable middlemen who could provide the necessary
insight. The fear of buying a lemon must have intensified as the prices of reputed mas-
ters diverged more significantly from those of second- and third-rate masters, and as
more mediocre and bad copies entered the market. This fear was expressed by the
St. Luke’s Guild in The Hague, which, in 1632, filed a complaint with the city govern-
ment about art dealers who were not members of the guild and who ‘deceitfully sell art
to a lot of people, cheating them with works that are often copies and rubbish, but sell-
ing these as excellent art’.77 Whether they were right about the inferior quality of the
works sold by those dealers – naturally it was their purpose to protect their own mem-
bership – is of less importance than the fact that they zeroed in on this fear, just as the
Amsterdam guild had done a few decades earlier. After all, prices could vary wildly, not
only between the paintings of reputable masters and the works of less reputable mas-
ters or even anonymous paintings, but also between the works of one and the same
master; the range could be incredible. No wonder that art lovers who forked over large
sums for works of well-known masters, became increasingly anxious about being
swindled with copies or works by pupils or imitators.
Neil De Marchi and Ed Romein both apply the economic theory of Akerlof who
observed the used car market to demonstrate that increased uncertainty among the
buyers regarding quality because the sellers fail to share certain information with buy-
ers, can have the effect of bad products driving good products off the market, which
can eventually lead to a collapse of the market.78 Ed Romein went so far as to argue
that, because of uncertainties about quality in the Leiden art market in the 1630s,
caused by an incongruity of information between buyers and sellers of paintings and
consumer anxiety regarding bad paintings, the art market stopped functioning prop-
erly (many painters left Leiden during this period)79 and was in need of criteria of
quality, which the traditional guilds were no longer able to supply. A new organisation
– which they called eventually a St. Lukes guild – was established in 1644, which,
according to Romein, was meant to stimulate the sharing of information and augment
the interaction between artists, dealers and art lovers. During this same period, a
selective canon of good painters against which others could be gauged was established
by Jan Orlers, while Philips Angel created a set of criteria to assess good paintings,
criteria that were grounded in the shared judgements of connoisseurs. Both Orlers
and Angel related quality to the appreciation of the market and advocated Gerrit Dou’s
fine and ‘mannerless manner’,80 thus stimulating the emergence of the Leiden ‘fine
painters’. Although I am not entirely convinced that it all fits together so neatly,
Romein made some very intriguing points in this area.
One of the results of the prestigious city descriptions by authors like Jan Orlers,
Samuel Ampzing and Theodoor Schrevelius, in which renowned painters – living or
dead – of a city were celebrated even more extensively than great scholars and theolo-
gians were,81 was that their names – even in their lifetime – became canonised, a proc-
ess which had been started in the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries by Vasari
(1550) and Van Mander (1604). Reputation by name must have become more and
more important in the course of the 17th century, which went hand in hand with iden-
tifiability by genre, subject matter and ‘manner of painting’ (handeling). Inventories
and sales from the early part of the century do not reveal many names; however, in the
larger cities of Holland this increased rapidly.82 By the 1650s, one notices an amazing
increase in the need and ability to name works of art. Hendrik Bugge van Ring, to
name an art lover who owned a huge number of paintings and must have been present
when his inventory was made (1667), was able to name no less than 98 different artists
by whom he had paintings hanging in his house; he was also precise in naming copies
and attributions he was not sure of.83 It was important not only for the truly talented
artists to distinguish their work from that of others, but also among the humbler art-
ists we can observe many painters pursuing their own recognisability in subject matter
and manner, rather than merely imitating better-known artists, the result of which
was that an immense variety of work could be seen in the art market. Toward the mid-
dle of the seventeenth century, there were numerous painters with limited gifts who
created their own niche by way of signed paintings with specific subjects in a charac-
teristic manner that were available for low prices. We still know an amazing number of
well-defined oeuvres developed by relatively minor artists working during this period.
Thus, this market situation meant that painters, in the words of De Marchi and
Van Miegroet, had to make ‘creative moves to secure some (temporary) differential
advantage’. It seems that ‘successful artists ... in addition to having talent, had a
sophisticated, positive understanding of the market as a forum for experimentation,
rather than seeing it as a threatening place …’.84 To be the pupil of a famous master,
must have been a good start toward the acquisition of a reputation. Malvasia’s remark
that ‘the very fact of having such a great master bestowed good fortune on Reni’s
pupils’, probably was also true for many of Rembrandt, Bloemaet, Dou or Van Poelen-
burch’s pupils, to name a few. If they were ambitious, these pupils, after leaving their
master’s studio, had to find a way to show off their prestigious backgrounds while
simultaneously developing a recognisable style of their own.
The talent and skill with which painters were able to suggest a convincing lifelike-
ness and the inventiveness with which they made their work identifiable through a
certain range of subjects, motifs and manners, including a personal touch of the
brush, constituted an important part of their ‘capital’. It sounds entirely believable
that Frans Hals, as Houbraken recounts, used ‘to paint the underlayers of his portraits
in a meltingly soft way, after which he brought in the touch of the brush, saying: ‘And
now the characteristic touch of the master has to be added.’85 But for connoisseurs, it
was not just a specific handling of the brush that was an important guide for distin-
guishing quality. As Romein argued, developing a ‘fine’ technique, in which the brush-
stroke was invisible, was another possible strategy to pursue. Art lovers then had to use
criteria such as correct anatomy, perspective, colouring (especially of flesh), powerfully
organised light and shadow, differentiation in reflection of light on surfaces to suggest
materials, and the measure of refinement in a smooth and meticulous rendering of
the wealth of ‘illusionistic’ details, without interference of a particular way of handling
the brush. According to Angel, who enumerated these criteria, the standards for this
style were set by Gerrit Dou, who, in his view, knew how to apply this technique with a
curious looseness, never lapsing into stiffness and unnaturalness – still an acute and
apposite observation.
Regrettably, in the Netherlands, one-liners like Reni’s, that he was a better artist
than Guercino because he sold better and had more followers, were not written down.
However, painters like Rembrandt, Dou, Van Poelenburch and Van Goyen, must have
also been very much aware that they were the market leaders who created a hallmark
style that became highly popular among certain groups of art lovers. They were the
ones that attracted many followers supplying the same type of paintings for a lower
price or making copies of their works. Unlike Dou and Van Poelenburch, the fashion
Van Goyen created did not last: while the prices of second-hand Dous and Poelen-
burchs soared after their deaths, the value of Van Goyen’s paintings, as did the works
of all paintings by artists of the ‘monochrome’ trend, declined rapidly.86 In the late
seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, Van Goyen’s name would almost completely
disappear from the art market (the works themselves did not, however, since they are
still around in large numbers). Trends and fashion – during the painter’s lifetime as
well as after – would have been powerful incentives for increase or decrease prices. As
Jan de Bisschop wrote when he disapprovingly referred to the ‘naturalistic’ trend in
Dutch art: ‘every age … has its fashions [he uses the word mode], which are introduced
by one or more masters held in high esteem at the time and therefore capable of mak-
ing an impact’.87 This is, I believe, what the amateur and economic theorist Bernard
Mandeville meant by ‘time of his age’ – the period in which an artist worked – when he
enumerated the criteria that define art market prices for second-hand paintings.88 The
other criteria he mentioned are already familiar: the name of the master, the prestige
of those owning the works and the length of time the works have been in the posses-
sion of ‘great families’, as well as the scarcity of the artist’s works.
The second-hand market
For art lover-connoisseurs and dealers this meant that, especially when selling or buy-
ing second-hand works, they not only needed to be able to put names on works of art,
but also to rank them in terms of name, reputation and quality on the basis of experi-
ence and knowledge of alternatives while using criteria that were current to a certain
period of time.89 However, the goals of these two groups were different. In his article in
the present book, Koenraad Jonckheere (pp. 69-95) focuses on auctions in the late sev-
enteenth and early eighteenth centuries, a period in which the market for second-
hand paintings by ‘dead’ masters expanded enormously and became far more impor-
tant than that of living masters. He emphasises the conflicting interests of art dealers,
on the one hand, and connoisseurs, on the other, and examines how dealers, auction-
eers and connoisseurs attributed works of art, demonstrating that there was a marked
difference between their respective attitudes towards attribution and the practices
they applied. The sellers, not bothering with authenticity and more precise informa-
tion, used ‘brand names’ to categorise in order to better guide amateurs through the
vast art market. They left it up to the elite amateur-connoisseurs to assess a work’s
quality and challenge attributions. The latter group gathered and shared information
– in which a good provenance played an important role. Thus, to understand the value
of attributions in late seventeenth-century or early eighteenth-century catalogues it is
important to make distinctions between art dealers/auctioneers and amateur-con-
noisseurs, he argues.
De Marchi and Van Miegroet (pp. 149-174) in their essay focus on the period imme-
diately following the one discussed by Jonckheere. They observe that, in the course of
the eighteenth century, new relations and new roles for art dealers and connoisseurs
began to take shape in an increasingly complex art market. Examining the dealings in
seventeenth-century Netherlandish art on the eighteenth-century Paris art market,
they focus on the art dealers Gersaint and Lebrun, who, they argue, assumed both
roles: that of the auctioneer/dealer and that of the connoisseur, endeavouring to sat-
isfy both connoisseurs and new collectors. The dealers made themselves knowledge-
able and obliterated the knowledge gap between connoisseurs and art dealers, and
made the sales far more transparent than before, revealing information and knowl-
edge about attribution, condition and provenance. This is exactly the opposite of what
happened on the Dutch art market around 1700 where auctioneers kept their knowl-
edge secret, as Jonckheere argues.
Together, the following articles demonstrate that the study of changing practices
on the art market in relation to the artist’s, dealer’s and art lover’s ideas and attitudes
toward evaluating works of art yield many new insights, while simultaneously stimu-
lating new areas of research.
* I am grateful to Marten Jan Bok who made many diplomatie. De veiling van de schilderijen-
valuable comments and whose expertise greatly verzameling van Willem III (1713) en de rol van het
enriched this essay. diplomatieke netwerk in de Europese kunsthandel,
1 Marten Jan Bok, ‘Pricing the Unpriced: How Dissertation, Universiteit van Amsterdam 2005,
Dutch Seventeenth-Century Painters determined pp. 199-206. (English edition: Koenraad Jonckheere,
the Selling Price of their Work’, in: Michael North The Auction of King William’s Paintings (1713). Elite
and David Omrod (eds.), Art Markets in Europe, international Art Trade at the End of the Dutch
1400-1800, Aldershot 1998, pp. 102-111, esp. p. 104. Golden Age, Oculi: Studies in the Arts of the Low
2 Richard E. Spear, The “Divine” Guido: Religion, Countries. 11, Amsterdam 2008.)
Sex, Money and Art in the World of Guido Reni, 5 Jeffrey Muller, ‘Measures of Authenticity: The
New Haven and London 1997, p. 212; for the Detection of Copies in the Early Literature on
second quotation, see also the article in this volume Connoisseurship’, in Studies in the History of Art,
by Anna Tummers, pp. 31-66. From: Giulio Mancini, National Gallery of Art 20, 1989, pp. 14-151.
Considerazioni sulla pittura, A. Marucchi and L. 6 Jaap van der Veen, ‘By His Own Hand, The
Salerno (eds.), Valuation of Autograph Paintings in the
Rome 1956-1957. Seventeenth-Century’, in: Ernst van de Wetering et
3 Neil De Marchi and Hans Van Miegroet, ‘Art, al., A Corpus of Rembrandt Paintings, Dordrecht
Value and Market Practices in the Netherlands in 2005, vol. 4, pp. 1-41.
the Seventeenth Century’, The Art Bulletin 86 (1994), 7 Bok, Pricing the Unpriced (note 1); De Marchi
pp. 451-464, esp. p. 451. and Van Miegroet, Art, Value and Market Practices
4 See Koenraad Jonckheere, Kunsthandel en (note 3); Neil De Marchi and Hans Van Miegroet,
‘Pricing Invention: ‘Originals’, ‘Copies’, and their levende en reets overleedene schilders, die van
Relative Value in Seventeenth Century Houbraken, noch eenig ander schryver, zyn
Netherlandish Art Markets, in: Victor Ginsburgh and aengeteekend, verhaelt worden, The Hague
P.-M. Menger (eds.), Recent Contributions to the 1750-1751, vol. 1, p. 237. Van Gool explicitly
Economics of the Arts, Amsterdam 1996, pp. 27-70. mentions that ‘he [Pieter] had finished his work, the
8 Ed Romein, ‘Knollen en citroenen op de knight [Adriaan] painted over it in wet’ (schilderde
Leidse kunstmarkt: over de rol van kwaliteit in de … het in ‘t nat over).
opkomst van de Leidse fijnschilderstijl’, De 20 For a complete transcription and a valuable
Zeventiende Eeuw 17 (2001), pp. 75-94; Elizabeth A. and exhaustive analysis of Wyttenhorst’s
Honig, ‘The beholder as a work of art: A study in exceptionally precise inventory, see Marion Boers,
the location of value in seventeenth-century ‘De schilderijenverzameling van baron Willem
Flemish painting’, Nederlands Kunsthistorisch Vincent van Wyttenhorst’, Oud Holland 117 (2004),
Jaarboek 46. Beeld en Zelfbeeld in de Nederlandse pp. 181-243, esp. pp. 198-208 on the prices.
kunst (1995), pp. 253-297. 21 Eric Jan Sluijter, ‘Jan van Goyen als markleider,
9 Spear, The “Divine” Guido (note 2), p. 213. virtuoos en vernieuwer’, in: C. Vogelaar (ed.), Jan
10 Quoted by Spear, The “Divine” Guido (note 2), van Goyen, Leiden (Stedelijk Museum de Lakenhal)
p. 212. 1996 (exh. cat.), pp. 38-59. esp. pp. 39-48. In a few
11 As Marten Jan Bok pointed out, it is often cases involving large commissioned paintings ,
worthwhile to realise the original meaning of a Van Goyen worked in a more elaborate style, which
word. Implicit in the word ‘honorarium’ is ‘honour’; means that the result was more expensive. Sluijter,
the concept is closely related to the culture of Jan van Goyen (note 20), pp. 44-45.
honour among the nobility. For a gentleman it was 22 Jan Jansz. Orlers, Beschrijvinge der stadt
dishonourable to work for money. To consider Leyden. Inhoudende ‘t begin, den voortgang, ende
painting as a liberal art, rather than a handicraft, is den wasdom der selver: de stichtinge vande
linked to this world of honour, exchange of favours, kercken, cloosteren, gasthuysen, ende andere
gifts, etc. See Marten Jan Bok, ‘Familie, vrienden en publijcque gestichten, etc. [...], Leiden 1641, pp.
opdrachtgevers’, in: J. Huisken et al. (eds.), Jacob 373-74 (Van Goyen), p. 375 (Rembrandt). See Sluijter,
van Campen: het klassieke ideaal in de Gouden Jan van Goyen (note 21), p. 39.
Eeuw, Amsterdam 1995, pp. 26-52, esp. p. 46. 23 Quoted by Boers, De schilderijenverzameling
12 Spear, The “Divine” Guido (note 2), p. 242. (note 20), p. 208; Houbraken, De groote
13 Spear, The “Divine” Guido (note 2), p. 221. schouburgh (note 14), vol. 2, pp. 112-113. His pupil
14 Joachim von Sandrart, Academie de Bau-. Justus van Huysum provided Houbraken with this
Bild- und Mahlerey-Künste (ed. A.R.. Peltzer), information.
München 1925, p. 196; Arnold Houbraken, 24 Marion Boers-Goosens, ‘Prices of Northern
De groote schouburgh der Nederlantsche Netherlandish Paintings in the Seventeenth
konstschilders en schilderessen, Amsterdam Century’, in: A. Golahny et al. (eds.) In his Milieu.
1718-1721, 3 vols., vol, 2, p. 4; Eric Jan Sluijter, Essays on Netherlandish Art in Memory of John
Leidse Fijnschilders. Van Gerrit Dou tot Frans van Michael Montias, Amsterdam 2006, pp. 59-73, esp.
Mieris de Jonge 1630-1670, Leiden (Stedelijk p. 63.
Museum De Lakenhal) 1988 (exh. cat.), p. 26 and 27. 25 Quoted by De Marchi and Van Miegroet,
15 O. Naumann, Frans van Mieris the Elder, Pricing Invention (note 7), p. 59 from Katlijne Van
Doornspijk 1981, cat. no. 192, Sluijter. Leidse der Stighelen, ‘De (atlier-)bedrijvigheid van Andries
Fijnschilders (note 14), p. 27. Snellinck (1587-1653) en co’, Jaarboek Koninklijk
16 Guido M.C. Jansen, ‘De Notitie der gelijxe Museum voor Schone Kunsten Antwerpen (1989),
schilderoeffening van Henrik van Limborch p. 305.
(1681-1759)’, Bulletin van het Rijkmuseum 45 (1997), 26 De Marchi and Van Miegroet, Pricing Invention
pp. 27-67, esp. p. 32-33. For the transcription of Van (note 7), pp. 54-56. The documents on Jan Breugel
Limborch’s account book, see pp. 46-67. II were published by J. Denucé, Brieven en
17 Bok, Pricing the Unpriced (note 1), p. 108. For documenten betreffend Jan Bruegel I en II,
Van der Werff’s account book (only over the years Antwerp 1934, p. 93.
1716-1722), see Barbara Gaethgens, Adriaen van 27 Van Everdingen received his first commission
der Werff. 1659-1722, Munich 1987, pp. 442-444. in 1641: a militia piece of the officers of the Old
18 Only one painting made in the years recorded Civic Guard (Oude Schutterij) in Alkmaar; see Paul
in this account book was entirely done by Adriaen. Huys Jansen et al. (eds.), De zestiende en
In the other paintings Pieter’s share of the work zeventiende-eeuwse schilderijen van het Stedelijik
varied between 20 and 60 percent (in many cases Museum Alkmaar, Alkmaar 1997, no. 23.
around 25 percent). 28 Boers, De schilderijenverzameling (note 20),
19 Johan van Gool, De nieuwe schouburg der p. 227.
Nederlantsche kunstschilders en schilderessen: 29 Boers-Goosens, Prices of Northern
waer in de levens- en kunstbedryven der tans Netherlandish Paintings (note 24), pp. 64-65.
30 Boers-Goosens, Prices of Northern Boston (Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum) 2002

Netherlandish Paintings (note 24), pp. 63-64. (exh. cat.), pp. 173-194, esp.
For the documents, see Jan Jacob de Gelder, p. 182.
Bartholomeus van der Helst, Rotterdam 1921, 45 Gerson, Seven Letters (note 34), p. 50.
p. 144, doc. 87. Also in A. Bredius, Künstler- 46 On Huygens as a member of a circle of elite
Inventare: Urkunden zur Geschichte der connoisseurs, see: Herman Roodenburg, ‘Visiting
Holländischen Kunst des XVIten, XVIIten und Vermeer: Performing Civility’, in: A. Golahny et al
XVIIIten Jahrhunderts, The Hague 1915-1921, vol. 1, (eds.), In his Milieu. Essays on Netherlandish Art in
pp. 299-301. Memory of John Michael Montias, Amsterdam 2006,
31 Bredius, Künstler-Inventare (note 30), vol. 2, pp. 385-394.
pp. 671-79. 47 The emulative reference to Rubens’s gruesome
32 Quoted by Boers-Goosens, Prices of Northern Prometheus, which could be found for some time in
Netherlandish Paintings (note 24), pp. 63, from The Hague in Sir Dudley Carlton’s collection might
De Nora de Poorter, ‘Seriewerk en recyclage: have been a calculated strategy to show The Hague
Doorgedreven efficiëntie in het geroutineerde connoisseurs that he was able to surpass Rubens in
atelier van Jacob Jordaens’, in: H. Vlieghe (ed.), the representation of extreme passions (see Eric
Concept, Design, and Execution in Flemish Painting. Jan Sluijter, Rembrandt and the Female Nude,
1500-1700, Antwerp 2000, pp. 229-30. Amsterdam 2006, p. 260). However, also in this
33 About Rembrandt’s troubles with clients, see respect, he might have misjudged Huygens:
especially Paul Crenshaw, Rembrandt’s Bankruptcy: sending a painting with such an atrocious subject as
The Artist, His Patrons, and the Art Market in a present to a gentleman, might have been taken
Seventeenth-Century Netherlands, Cambridge as an offence.
2006, chapter VI. 48 See Crenshaw’s outstanding discussion of all
34 H. Gerson, Seven Letters by Rembrandt, The the possible reasons for this dispute: Crenshaw,
Hague 1961, p. 30. Rembrandt demanded 200 Rembrandt’s Bankruptcy (note 32), pp. 111-120.
pounds, without specification. However, this would 49 Ibid. (note 32), p.132.
have been 200 Flemish pounds (=1200 guilders). 50 Ibid. (note 32), p. 131.
35 H. Gerson, Seven Letters (note 34), p.46. 51 The new documents, discovered by Lauro
36 Ibid. (note 34), p. 62. Magnani, were presented at a small symposium at
37 Ibid. (note 34), p. 34. the Rembrandthuis on June 13, 2008, and they were
38 It is not certain that they received 500 guilders; published in: L. Magnani, ‘1666. Een onbekende
this figure is the ‘estimate’ (raminge) which Jacob opdracht uit Genua voor Rembrandt’, Kroniek van
van Campen made of the expenses (Friso het Rembrandthuis (2007), 2-17 (published June
Lammertse in A. Blankert, Hollands Classicisme in 2008).
de zeventieuwe-eeuwse schilderkunst, Rotterdam 52 Magnani, ‘1666’, p. 6: ‘pur applicando tutto il
and Frankfurt a/M 1999, p. 95; See for the suo spirito all’opera non può perfettionarla in
document D.F. Slothouwer, De paleizen van quella brevità [che] si desiderebbe’. In the article by
Frederik Hendrik, Leiden 1945, p. 315.) Magnani this is translated with ‘although he has
39 One would think that Houbraken’s wry remark thrown himself into the work heart and soul’.
that, in the period when Flinck was his pupil, However, this translation is too superficial for
everyone had to paint in Rembrandt’s manner if one contemporary language; it only says that
wanted to please the world – in other words, that Rembrandt worked with great dedication. In my
Rembrandt’s style was high fashion – would have opinion, Rembrandt informed them that he is using
been valid for the 1630s only. Indeed, the number all his mental powers as an artist while working on
of followers diminished after the mid 1640s, when these new and important inventions and that this
other styles became more fashionable, but his takes a great amount of time.
reputation was at this time obviously still on a 53 Ibid., p. 6: ‘vuol in questa occasione acquistare
remarkably high level. in cotteste parti lode et honore.’
40 Spear, The “Divine” Guido (note 2), p.211. 54 Ibid., p. 5, ‘Pretende molto denaro però si
41 Houbraken, De groote schouburgh rimesso in persona intelligente di pittura per stare a
(note 14), vol. 1, p. 269. suo giudizio.’
42 Spear, The “Divine” Guido (note 2), p. 212. 55 See also Crenshaw, Rembrandt’s Bankruptcy
43 Inge Broekman will demonstrate in a chapter (note 32), chapter 6.
of her dissertation on Huygens as connoisseur and 56 Spear, The “Divine” Guido (note 2), p. 213.
collector that Huygens himself rarely seems to have 57 De Marchi and Van Miegroet, Art, Value and
bought expensive paintings. Market Practices (note 3), pp. 40-41.
44 On the symbolic value of gifts, see Michael 58 For an English translation, see Ruth Saunders
Zell, ‘The Gift Among Friends: Rembrandt’s Art in Magurn (ed.), Letters of Peter Paul Rubens,
the Network of His Patronal and Social Relations,’ Evanston 1991, pp. 60-61.
in: A. Chong and M. Zell, Rethinking Rembrandt, 59 De Marchi and Van Miegroet, Art, Value and
Market Practices (note 3), p. 58; they also ignore the and works by pupils. For this reason, he applied
great difference in size when they calculate the ratio Akerlof’s theory concerning the fear of ‘lemons’ (see
between original and copy. below, note 73). However, the success of the auction
60 As Marten Jan Bok pointed out to me, the sales and the probable expertise of the buyers (that
word ‘principaal’ comes from accounting and refers is to say, the buyers at the sales mentioned below
to the ‘principal money’ from which interest is – we do not know if there were other illegal sales),
harvested. In painting, the ‘principaal’ is worth apart from the fact that the market did not collapse
more, because it could be used for ‘exclusive’ but started to grow rapidly, points in another
copying as long as the distribution of the image direction.
could be controlled by the owner, and because 72 Montias, J. Michael, Art at Auction in 17th
better copies could be made from a ‘principaal’ century Amsterdam, Amsterdam 2002, pp. 41-51 and
than from a copy. Sluijter, Over Brabantse vodden (note 64), p. 140 and
61 Interestingly, Guercino even charged the same note 46.
amount for copies he made himself as for the 73 Karel van Mander, Het Schilder-Boeck, Haarlem
originals, but much less for copies by assistants; in 1604, fol. 299r.
his efficient manner of pricing, there was obviously 74 Van Mander wrote this about, for instance,
no place for invention; Jacob Grimmer, Cornelis Molenaer (Schele Neel
See Spear, The “Divine” Guido (note 2), p. 215. [Cross-eyed Neil]) and Joos van Liere (Van Mander,
62 Boers, De schilderijenverzameling (note 20), Schilder-Boeck (note 68), fol. 256v and 257r. Orlers
p. 217. would write something similar several decades later
63 Spear, The “Divine” Guido (note 2), pp. 263 about Van Goyen. See Orlers, Beschrijvinge der
and 269; Muller, Measures of Authenticity stadt Leyden (note 21), p. 373. With regard to
(note 5), p. 145. strategies of innovative behaviour on a competitive
64 Ibid. (note 2), p. 217. art market, see De Marchi and Van Miegroet, Art,
65 Quoted in Liesbeth Helmus’ dissertation on Value and Market Practices (note 3), pp. 451-464.
fifteenth- and sixteenth-century contracts for Also see: Marten Jan Bok, Vraag en aanbod op de
altarpieces in the Northern Netherlands, which will Nederlandse kunstmarkt, 1580-1700, Utrecht 1994,
be published in 2008 (Liesbeth Helmus, Schilderen p. 190. For the concept of ‘liefhebber (art lover)’,
in opdracht. Noord-Nederlandse contracten voor idem, p. 73-75
altaarstukken 1450-1570). 75 Eric Jan Sluijter, Verwondering over de
66 About the complicated genesis of this altar, schilderijenproductie in de Gouden Eeuw,
see Dorien Tamis, ‘The Genesis of Albert Cornelis’s Amsterdam 2002, pp. 16-17.
“Coronation of the Virgin” in Bruges’, The Burlington 76 For the relevant passages, see passages in
Magazine 172 (2000), Angel’s text, see Eric Jan Sluijter Seductress of Sight.
pp. 672-680. Studies in Dutch Art of the Golden Age, Zwolle 2000,
67 It concerns a painting by Isack van Duijnen p. 9 and 223-258.
(1686); see also Anna Tummers’ article in this 77 Romein, Knollen en citroenen (note 8) , p. 77.
volume pp. 31-66. For the document, see Van der 78 De Marchi, The role of Dutch auctions
Veen, By His Own Hand (note 6), doc. 28. (note 66), pp. 203-221 and Romein, Knollen en
68 Jonckheere, The Auction of King William’s citroenen (note 8) pp.79-82.
Paintings (note 4). 79 Dudok van Heel argued that many artists left
69 For the following case, see more extensively: Leiden in the early 1630’s because of the oppressive
Eric Jan Sluijter, ‘Over Brabantse vodden, political and economic climate: S.A.C. Dudok van
economische concurrentie, artistieke wedijver en de Heel, De jonge Rembrandt onder tijdgenoten:
groei van de markt voor schilderijen in de eerste godsdienst en schilderkunst in Leiden en
decennia van de zeventiende eeuw’, Nederlands Amsterdam, PhD Dissertation Radboud Universiteit
Kunsthistorisch Jaarboek 50. Art for the Market Nijmegen 2006, pp. 195-197.
1500-1700 (1999), pp. 113-144, especially 80 Angel thought of Dou’s work as not having a
pp. 118-121 recognizable ‘manner’ (see Sluijter, Seductress of
(see for English translation: http://home. Sight [note 71], p. 245).
medewerker.uva.nl/e.j.sluijter) 81 Sluijter, Seductress of Sight (note 71),
70 Fr.D.O. Obreen (ed.), Archief voor pp. 210-205. Sluijter, Verwondering over de
Nederlandsche Kunstgeschiedenis, Rotterdam schilderijenproductie (note 70), pp. 13-15.
1877-1878, vol. 3, pp. 164-165. 82 A good example would be the Leiden
71 See also Neil De Marchi, ‘The role of Dutch inventories selected by Willemijn Fock (she only
auctions and lotteries in shaping the art market(s) of selected the ones that included a lot paintings,
17th century Holland’, Journal of Economic 12 inventories from every ten years). C. Willemijn
Behavior & Organization 28 (1995), pp. 203-221, esp. Fock, Kunstbezit in Leiden in de 17de eeuw’, in:
pp. 206-212. De Marchi took this literally and Th.H. Lunsigh Scheurleer, C.W. Fock and A.J. van
assumed that it concerned indeed rubbish, copies Dissel (eds.), Het Rapenburg. Geschiedenis van een
Leidse Gracht, vol. Va, Leiden 1990, pp. 3-36. As a

matter of fact, this is not true for cities outside the
province of Holland: see the recent study of
Leeuwarden by Piet Bakker, Gezicht op Leeuwarden.
Schilders in Friesland en de markt voor schilderijen
in de Gouden Eeuw, Amsterdam 2008. See also
below, p. 38.
83 Eric Jan Sluijter, ‘“All striving to adorne their
houses with costly peeces”. Two Case Studies of
Paintings in Wealthy Interiors’, in: Mariët
Westermann (ed.), Art & Home: Dutch Interiors in
the Golden Age, Denver (Denver Art Museum) 2001
(exh. cat.), pp. 102-127, esp. p. 119.
84 De Marchi and Van Miegroet, Art, Value and
Market Practices (note 3), pp. 459-460.
85 Houbraken, De groote schouburgh (note 14),
vol. 1, p. 92.
86 See the list of maximum, minimum, average
and median prices paid at auction for these
painters in the 1676-1739 period in Jonckheere,
The Auction of King William’s Paintings (note 4),
appendix A2, pp. 229-233.
87 Sluijter, Rembrandt and the Female Nude
(note 47), p. 197.
Market Practices (note 3), pp. 454-455. They assume
that it refers to the period within an artist’s oeuvre.
Market Practices (note 3), p. 460.
30 ANNA TU M M E R S
Chapter 1
Anna Tummers
‘By His Hand’: The Paradox

of Seventeenth-Century
Connoisseurship*
Introduction
The question of whether seventeenth-century painters and connoisseurs had a different

understanding of authenticity than we do today, has been the cause of much debate.
Several scholars have even wondered if present-day connoisseurship is anachronistic in
its efforts to distinguish the hand of a seventeenth-century master from those of his
assistants and pupils. For was it not common for a seventeenth-century master to col-
laborate with his assistants and to sell the various studio products under his own name?
Nowadays connoisseurs tend to differentiate sharply between what is believed to be
purely autograph work with paintings done in part or entirely by assistants, which can
make for a price difference of several millions of dollars.1 Yet, among scholars there is
no consensus as to whether such a distinction agrees with seventeenth-century catego-
ries of thought.
Seventeenth-century connoisseurs were certainly interested in attaching names to
paintings. In fact, attributing pictures seems to have been an entertaining pastime
among the upper echelons of society in Europe. For example, the British King James I
reputedly removed the labels from his paintings to see if his courtiers could guess the
artists.2 A letter sent from Paris by the Dutch scientist and art lover Christiaan Huygens
to his brother Constantijn in The Hague shows that these rather playful attribution
debates were not an exclusively British phenomenon. After visiting the Flemish dealer
Valcourt with a group of Parisian connoisseurs, Christiaan wrote to his brother on
1 June 1668:
‘You would have had unparalleled pleasure to see [the collector-connoisseur] Jabach
determine the authenticity of those [Valcourt’s] pieces with a magisterial complacency;
only to conclude in the end that out of 300 drawings that were given to Raphael there
were but two originals. I would give a good thing to see him censure yours and that you
were [listening in from] behind the tapestry. When we were at his place, there was also
no shortage of ‘controllers’, of which I was one of the minor figures, who challenged
the attribution of what he [Jabach] believed to be true Giulio Romanos and Raphaels,
which drove him into a rage that made us all laugh, so much so that there would be
hardly any comedy that would equal such a conference’. 3
Christiaan’s account is so vivid that it is not hard to imagine the excitement of these
early connoisseurs. However, the precise considerations and assumptions of these
gentlemen remain elusive. On what grounds exactly would they have attributed and
de-attributed pictures? What elements were seen as particularly telling? Would they
have differentiated between different types of studio products, and if so: how?
It is very rare indeed that one can find evidence of early connoisseurs weighing
arguments when making an attribution. An imaginary dialogue written in 1677 by the
Parisian writer and collector Roger de Piles, suggests that some of these early experts
may have been quite sophisticated in their judgements. The protagonists discuss even
how feasible and necessary it is in their opinion to attach a name to a painting; for
example: how difficult it can be to recognise works made in a transitory period in
which an artist changes his style; or how impossible it is to even know all the painters
from the past – especially those who worked for others and never really acquired their
own reputations.4 Yet primary sources addressing these issues are scant. Also, it is only
in very exceptional instances that we know with any certainty what pictures exactly
these early connoisseurs were discussing, and that we can thus clarify their comments
by matching their accounts to the very pictures at which they must have been looking.5
Reconstructing seventeenth-century views on authenticity is mostly a matter of
critically analysing and connecting circumstantial evidence: relevant passages in guild
statutes, notarial deeds, personal writings, art theoretical treatises, probate invento-
ries and sales catalogues, and match these to what we can see in pictures wherever
possible.6 Interestingly, the available sources seem rather ambivalent. On the one
hand, surviving guild statutes indicate that it was common practice for master paint-
ers to sell works produced in collaboration with their studio assistants under their
own name, as we will see. However, on the other hand, some early art theoretical trea-
tises that discuss attribution practices advise art lovers to look for brush marks that
seem distinctively individual, much like someone’s handwriting, which suggests they
were indeed interested in attributing pictures to a specific hand.
It is this seeming contradiction that I propose to call the paradox of seventeenth-
century connoisseurship. After first analysing the scholarly debate, I will have a closer
look at seventeenth-century sources and introduce some new source material into the
discussion in order to better understand the seventeenth-century appreciation for
authenticity, and the practice of both signing and attributing pictures. The underlying
goal is to bridge contradictions in previous interpretations in this field and, in doing
so, provide a clearer frame of reference for attributions to seventeenth-century Dutch
and Flemish masters such as Rembrandt, Rubens and Honthorst. Although commer-
cial and social interests must have played an important role in seventeenth-century
attribution practices (as they do today), I will not speculate much about their impact
in this essay, focusing mostly on the more general question what types of distinctions
were made and what their implications are for present-day connoisseurship.7 Also,
I will not pay much attention to the question of how the insights of painters may have
differed from those of buyers since – as we will see – there is little reason to assume that
their insights as to these general distinctions would have differed strongly.8
The debate: Autograph pictures, the holy grail of present-day

connoisseurs?
Ernst van de Wetering, the head of the Rembrandt Research Project, phrased the issue
most poignantly in 1992 when he gave a lecture entitled ‘The Search for the Master’s
Hand: An Anachronism?’ at the 28th International Art History Congress in Berlin. If sev-
enteenth-century viewers would have found it self-evident to regard all works produced
in a studio as works by the master who headed the studio, even if they were carried out
by others, then, he pointed out: ‘the idea at the basis of the Rembrandt Research
Project, namely that there is a need to isolate works of Rembrandt’s hand from that of
his pupils and assistants, would be a complete anachronism, a wrongly applied projec-
tion of the 19th-century cult of genius to everyday 17th-century workshop practice.’9
Earlier in 1984, he had addressed the same concern in the second volume of The
Corpus of Rembrandt Paintings, stating that there was too little evidence to draw any
conclusion with certainty.10 However, in the meantime several other scholars had been
pondering the same issue and voiced different opinions. In 1988, Svetlana Alpers’ book
The Rembrandt Enterprise was published, in which she analysed Rembrandt as a talent-
ed artist and entrepreneur who created pictures that give the effect of individuality
together with his studio, thus not necessarily with his own hands.11 Referring to the
Rembrandt Research Project, she pointed out that it seemed that Rembrandt had not
collaborated much with his assistants on particular works, yet she emphasised that the
master liked to have his name attached not just to his own works but also to works
done by others in his studio.12 Therefore, she stated, the master’s oeuvre cannot simply
be reduced to his autograph works.13
Also, Eddy de Jongh had briefly touched upon this matter when he analysed the
attribution debate that was sparked by the Frans Hals overview exhibition of 1990.14 As
the lack of consensus in the definition of Frans Hals’s oeuvre became painfully clear
(Seymour Slive approved 222 paintings, while Claus Grimm only agreed with 145 of
these), De Jongh wondered if what he called the ‘19th and 20th century fixation on
authenticity’ can be historically justified. In his view, a seventeenth -century viewer
would have certainly been aware of the difference in value between originals and cop-
ies, and an occasional connoisseur may have had a preference for works done entirely
by the hand of a famous master. However, he suspected that in general it was rule rath-
er than exception in seventeenth-century studios that painters collaborated with their
assistants; it seemed quite probable that in various instances the only autograph detail
in a picture from Frans Hals’s studio would have been the master’s monogram FH.
In his 1992 lecture, Ernst van de Wetering weighed evidence both in favour and
against the idea that seventeenth-century painters and their clientele had a preference
for autograph paintings by the master, without however reaching a definitive conclu-
sion. On the one hand, Van de Wetering argued, it was perfectly normal for pupils and
assistants to work in the style of their master. However, that did not mean that various
types of studio products were interchangeable in his view; and he claimed that there
was a ‘substantial amount of documents which indicate that the aspect of autograph-
ness was relevant in 17th century Holland’ (which Jaap van der Veen was in the process
of assembling and interpreting).15 But he suspected that master painters may have
worked in close collaboration with their studio all the more easily since many art buy-
ers could not easily recognise poor quality pictures.
At the Berlin conference Claus Grimm also addressed this issue - the scholar who
had not only sparked the Frans Hals attribution debate in 1990 but who had also just
published a book on Rembrandt’s portraits (1991) in which he narrowed down the
selection of autograph works even further than the Rembrandt Research Project had
done. In his lecture The Question about Autographness and the Practice of Attribution,
Grimm emphasised that much research remained to be done in order to get a clearer
idea of seventeenth-century workshop practice and better standards for current attri-
butions to old masters.16
Close inspection of just a few pictures by Rembrandt led Grimm to conclude that
the master must have collaborated with his assistants in different ways. He pointed to
the built-up of the paint in the man’s face in The Shipbuilder and His Wife: in the shad-
ow part at right, a relatively thin first layer is applied somewhat hesitantly, presumably
by an assistant. It is topped by confident strokes which Grimm identified as correc-
tions by the master. (fig. 1). By comparison, another group portrait done in the same
year, the Anatomy Lesson of Doctor Tulp (1633), does not show a similarly sharp distinc-
tion in its built-up; instead, it seems to have been worked up much more coherently
and smoothly (fig. 2). This led Grimm to conclude that Rembrandt sometimes, but not
always, had assistants execute the general building-up of the top layer, while adding
the light and shadow parts himself. In a third example taken from the same year, Rem-
brandt’s Portrait of the Remonstrant Minister Johannes Uytenbogaert (fig. 3), Grimm
pointed out the differences in style and execution between Uytenbogaert’s face and
the definition of the hands. This, according to Grimm, indicated that the different
parts were executed by different hands, that is: the head by the master and the hands
by an assistant.17
What should we conclude from all this? Would such collaborations have been the
rule or the exception? The exact extent of collaboration in Rembrandt’s studio
remains an issue of much debate. On the one hand, a number of specialists believe
that Rembrandt tended to distinguish rather sharply between his own paintings and
those done by students and assistants, and that he would have priced them according-
ly (even though he may have also sold non-autograph works as ‘Rembrandts’). In par-
ticular Josua Bruijn stated that Rembrandt hardly ever collaborated with his pupils
and assistants on the same composition, and Ernst van de Wetering wrote that such
collaborations occur almost exclusively in portraits created before 1642. 18 However,
there have also been other scholars like Grimm who believe that Rembrandt’s studio
output and his working practices may have been more diversified.
In 1995, Arthur Wheelock distinguished four different types of collaborative works
produced in Rembrandt’s studio: works done by an assistant on the basis of a sketch
or drawing by the master, works blocked in on a canvas by the master and worked up
by an assistant (such as the National Gallery’s of Art’s Man in Oriental Costume, c.
1635), portraits done by the master in which the costume and even the hands are done
by an assistant, and lastly works produced by pupils or assistants and retouched by the
master.19 Also, Walter Liedtke made a plea for a thorough re-evaluation of Rem-
brandt’s studio practices in 2004; in his view, the input of students and assistants, in
many instances, has not been properly recognised.20
These differences of opinion regarding the studio practice of the most studied
painter from the Dutch Golden Age, illustrate just how little is certain about the
historical context in which these pictures were made. It makes the question of how
1.
2.
3.
1. Rembrandt, see colorplate p. 177 (entire painting)

The Shipbuilder and his Wife [detail], 1633
The Royal Collection, Her Majesty Queen Elisabeth II, London

The Anatomy Lesson of Doctor Tulp [detail]
1633, Royal Cabinet of Paintings The Mauritshuis, The Hague

Portrait of the Preacher Johannes Uyttenbogaert [detail]
1633, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam
seventeenth-century painters and connoisseurs would have thought about issues of

authenticity all the more relevant. Do seventeenth-century sources give us any indica-
tion as to what types of pictures to expect? Can we safely assume, for example, that
most seventeenth-century master painters created at least a part of their oeuvre entire-
ly by their own hand? And that present-day connoisseurs can thus take an autograph
‘core oeuvre’ as a point of departure for their attributions? Or is such a core oeuvre
much like the holy grail: highly desirable (for the amount of certainty it would give in
matters of attribution), yet eternally elusive? 21
At the time of the Berlin conference, many primary sources had not yet been exten-
sively studied, in particular, archival documents and art theoretical texts. Since then,
Jaap van der Veen has written a thorough analysis of Netherlandish archival docu-
ments and probate inventories in relation to issues of authenticity: ‘By his Own Hand,
The Valuation of Autograph Paintings in the Seventeenth-Century’, which was pub-
lished in A Corpus of Rembrandt Paintings, volume IV (2005).22 In the appendix, he list-
ed and transcribed 36 relevant notarial documents. These documents mostly concern
pictures by or after Netherlandish masters (including Porcellis, Bloemaert, Jordaens
and Den Uyl) and also some paintings by or after Italian masters such as Titian and
Caravaggio.
One of the difficulties with the interpretation of this material is that most of these
notarial deeds deal with the status of particular paintings as either an ‘original’ (princi-
pael/origineel) or a ‘copy’ (kopie).23 The same holds true for seventeenth-century inven-
tories and sales catalogues. ‘Principael’, the most commonly used word for ‘original’,
simply meant that the work was not a copy, but did not encompass a claim as to the
execution; it could well have been painted by several hands.24
In the case of the 36 documents accumulated by Jaap van der Veen, only six make a
specific claim as to the execution of a work.25 These six documents state that a certain
work is done entirely ‘by the hand of the master’ and sometimes even specify that it
was done ‘without help from others’. This seems to suggest that there was indeed an
interest in purely autograph works. Jaap van der Veen believes that this was the case
among well-to-do burghers who could afford the better paintings (there seems no rea-
son to assume that issues of authenticity would have been of great concern to the pro-
ducers and buyers of cheap pictures). Furthermore, he speculates that the interest in
autograph works may have increased throughout the century, reaching a high point
around 1650, and that the less commonly used term for ‘original’ (origineel) may have
implied that a certain work was autograph.26 Therefore he concludes that the premise
of the Rembrandt Research Project to distinguish the master’s hand from those of his
assistants and pupils is in fact not anachronistic.
However, there is also another way to interpret the evidence that Jaap van der Veen
has gathered. For similar statements about pictures, namely that they were done ‘by
the hand of the master’ also occurred in other countries, most notably in Italy. How-
ever, scholars of Italian art believe that these should not be taken literally; the Italian
equivalent of this phrase ‘fatto di suo mano’ had a certain legal validity and was more
of a guarantee of personal, moral responsibility than necessarily of physical involve-
ment.27 Could the same be said of the Netherlands? Did painters’ names function
mostly as guarantees of a certain style and quality?
In the following I will try to bridge some of the contradictions in current interpreta-
tions by re-evaluating some existing evidence, by bringing some additional research
into the discussion and by introducing a number of previously overlooked primary
sources, mostly taken from a still relatively little explored field, that of the art theoreti-
cal discourse. First, I will explore seventeenth-century categories of thought by looking
at the importance attached to painters names in general, and by analysing the types of
distinctions made in seventeenth-century inventories and notarial deeds, in particular
the distinction between works identified as by a master and those given to a pupil.
Subsequently, I will discuss what evidence exactly suggests that master painters sold
entirely autograph pictures, whether or not buyers may have had a special interest in
these, and what – if anything – we could deduce from master painters signing habits.
Secondly, I will look into seventeenth-century texts on connoisseurship, especially at
insights as to attributing pictures. Do these texts indicate that seventeenth-century

connoisseurs were as keen as we are today to recognise the master’s hand or did they
have somewhat different priorities?
The master’s name and its implications
No longer the anonymous craftsmen they had often been in medieval times, in early
modern Europe, successful artists were able to gain an increasing amount of fame and
independence for themselves. They appeared from behind their works and placed
themselves in the foreground, attracting attention to themselves by signing their
works, initially, mostly with monograms, and later with their names spelled out in full.
If they were really famous, just their first names would have sufficed: Michelangelo,
Titian, Raphael, Rembrandt ....28
The artist’s position changed most rapidly in Italy. In 1501, after having tried to
give the painter Gentile Bellini a specific commission, Isabella d’Este eventually let
him decide for himself what scene from classical history or mythology he would paint
for her.29 Another collector, Federico Gonzaga, went a step further, in his 1527 request
to Michelangelo; he had no requirements at all as to the subject matter, format or
medium; all he wanted was that the work was‘of his [Michelangelo’s] genius’, ‘an
example of his unique ability’.30
In the Netherlands, the artist’s reputation as the creator of ‘unique’ works also
gained weight, and gradually increased over time. Tellingly, around 1600 print collec-
tors started to organise their prints by artists’ names, whereas sixteenth-century print
collections had usually been grouped by subject.31 As the art market boomed in the
early seventeenth century, more artists than ever began signing their works, often still
with monograms, yet increasingly with their full names, emphasising their role as
individual creators.32 Although the signing habits of painters could vary considerably
(Rubens, for example, barely signed his works at all), the general knowledge of artists
names increased greatly. Witness the dazzling variety of artists names mentioned in
probate inventories throughout the century, for instance (see below).
But, despite this growing emphasis on the artist’s individual name, its use was not
very individualised in early modern Europe. A striking example comes from Vasari’s
biography of the renaissance master Giulio Romano, in which he describes an artwork
as follows: ‘It was the best carton that he [Giulio] had ever made, and it was executed
by Fermo Guisoni, who has since then become an excellent master himself.’33 A work
could count as being by a master if it was done under his supervision and after his
design, and it was common for masters to collaborate with their assistants not only on
large-scale commissions but also on modestly-sized paintings. For example, when
Giulio himself was not yet an independent master, his master Raphael reputedly used
his assistance in all of his greatest works, including his famous panel paintings
Por trait of Leo X with two Cardinals (Uffizi, Florence) and his Portrait of Giovanna of
Aragon (Louvre, Paris).34
It was also common in the Netherlands of the early seventeenth century for mas-
ters to attach their names to paintings that were in part or largely executed by their
pupils and assistants. Witness, for example, a laudatory poem on Van Mander’s
Schilderboeck (1604). The writer likens Van Mander’s book to a picture of Pittura, the
personification of the art of painting. This metaphorical portrait has benefited from
many contributions in the form of painted jewellery, much in the same way that Van
Mander benefited from those who brought the art of painting to greater heights and
thus enriched the art of painting. However, Van Mander deserves to sign the work as
an ‘original’ (principael), since he is responsible for the most impressive part: a crown
of pearls on Pittura’s head. He would have made ‘a mistake’ (faut bedrijvet), ‘if he had
not written his name at the bottom of the work’ (Soo hy sich self daer onder niet en
schrijvet).35 Admittedly, a lot of research remains to be done as to specific master’s stu-
dio habits. However, on the basis of the available evidence, we can already conclude
that the master’s signature could function as a ‘trademark’, a ‘logo of a studio style’ or
even as a ‘brand name’, in the terms coined by Svetlana Alpers, Ann Jensen Adams,
Koenraad Jonckheere and Tine Nygaard respectively (see also Koenraad Jonckheere’s
essay, pp. 69-95).36 However, it was not a guarantee that a work was painted solely by
the hand of the master himself.37
But if a painter’s name did not guarantee that the work was executed by the master
himself, then how did seventeenth-century painters and connoisseurs classify differ-
ent types of studio products? Did seventeenth-century painters and their public differ-
entiate between various types of studio products? And what role, if any, did signatures
play in this respect?
Distinctions in seventeenth-century inventories and notarial deeds
Seventeenth-century inventories and notarial deeds give a fairly coherent view of sev-
enteenth-century categories of thought. As briefly mentioned above, artists names
appear with increasing frequency in probate inventories from the beginning of the
seventeenth century, not only in those inventories belonging to painters and collectors
but also in those of burghers who owned but a modest amount of works. So far,
research of inventories in Delft, Amsterdam, Antwerp, Haarlem, Leiden and Dordrecht
indicate similar patterns.
While in sixteenth-century inventories the creators of pictures were seldomly men-
tioned, the number of pictures that was attributed to a particular master rose around
the turn of the seventeenth century. In Antwerp, for example, the numbers of pictures
that were identified as originals by a specific master rose steadily to about a quarter of
all pictures between 1601 and 1620.38 From the beginning of the seventeenth century
the number of attributed pictures also increased in Amsterdam, while in Delft, the
1640s and 1650s in particular witnessed a growing number of specific attributions in
inventories.39 In Leiden, the number of attributed pictures in a sample of collectors
inventories from the 1650s and 1660s was particularly high, amounting to about 40
percent of all the works mentioned.40
Admittedly, the specific implications of these early attributions in inventories can
be tantalisingly hard to interpret as we often cannot identify the works mentioned and
relatively little is known about the notaries and experts that compiled these lists.41
Moreover, the general boom in the production of paintings, and increasing numbers
of works that were signed must have also influenced the listings. Yet, some general
patterns are unmistakable. Firstly, there was a growing awareness of both the names
of specific masters painters and their hallmark styles. An inventory of the Leiden col-
lector Hendrik Bugge van Ring even mentions as many as 98 different painters’ names,
and specifies that two pictures by respectively Jan Steen and Gerrit Dou were done ‘in
their youth’ (in sijn jonckheyt).42 Secondly, a number of different descriptive terms were
used to classify works.43 Basically, two main distinctions were made, which partially
overlap. Pictures were often labelled as either an original, a copy or a work in a certain
master’s style (see below). Another distinction concerned the master’s share: the over-
whelming majority of the attributed works is given to master painters, but in a few rare
instances, a picture is identified as by a pupil (discipel) of a master and/or mentioned
as retouched (geretokkeert) by the master. Before discussing these distinctions further,
I will briefly indicate what other descriptive terms can be found. Especially artist’s
inventories also occasionally contain terms indicating that a picture was unfinished.
For example, pictures were described as ‘gemodelt’ / ‘gebootst’ (sketched), ‘gedood-
verwet’ (underpainted), or simply as ‘niet opgemaect’ (not completed). Lastly, one can
also find descriptive terms indicating the quality of a work, often in very general terms.
For example, the 1682 inventory of the painter Claes Moyaert mentions 11 ‘sleghte
schilderijen’ (mediocre paintings), while the above mentioned inventory of the collec-
tor Hendrik Bugge mentions two pictures by an unidentified yet ‘good master from the
province of Brabant’ (een goet Brabants meester).44
As to the distinction between originals and copies, the term ‘original’ (principael /
origineel) meant that a certain work was a new creation, thus not a copy. It was used for
works attributed to master painters; new compositions invented by pupils were usu-
ally described as simply a ‘piece’ (stuckje).45 A copy, on the other hand, was based on a
prototype, and therefore generally a cheaper type of picture. As Hans Van Miegroet
and Neil De Marchi have shown, copies were valued at about 50 percent of the price of
an original when done by the same master as the original.46 However, this does not
mean that copies could not occasionally be valuable. The 1659 inventory of the well-
informed collector baron Willem Vincent van Wyttenhorst specifies that two copies by
Cornelis van Poelenburch after originals by Adam Elsheimer were even ‘held in higher
esteem than the original’ (wort hooger als het principael geacht).47 Lastly, pictures could
also be described as ‘in the manner’ (aert, handelinge, manier) of a particular master.
Usually the maker of such works is not identified and their price estimates were low,
although there were exceptions. A document related to the inventory of the painter
Cornelis Dusart, dated 7 March 1703, mentions two paintings ‘done in the manner
(manier) of Berchem by Dusart’s pupil Wynand de Haas, which were estimated at 20
guilders, which was double the price of a small picture of a smoking figure by Jan
Steen mentioned in the same document.48
As mentioned earlier, the most commonly used term for ‘original’, ‘principal’ only
specified that the picture was not a copy and thus did not make any claim as to wheth-
er a work was autograph or not.49 In my opinion, the less commonly used term for
‘original’ (‘origineel’) had the same meaning.50 Jaap van der Veen suspected that ‘origi-
nal’ may have implied that the work was purely by the hand of the master on the basis
of a passage in Junius’s treatise The Painting of the Ancients, in which he describes the
connoisseurs of his time: ‘…most are wont to prove their knowledge of art by being
able to immediately distinguish originals from copies. The works that the excellent
masters themselves have made after life, are here referred to as original pieces.’51 How-
ever, this passage is so unspecific – Junius contrasts originals by masters and copies by
pupils in a very general way, without mentioning any other type of painting – that the
reasoning becomes circular: if ‘original’ implied that a picture was autograph, then
the occasional use of the term would illustrate that there was an interest in purely
autograph pictures. As I have not come across a seventeenth-century use of the term
‘origineel’ which clearly differentiates its meaning from the term ‘principael’, I sub-
scribe to the conclusion of the linguist Lydia de Pauw-de Veen, namely that these
terms were used interchangeably.52 Of course, this does not exclude the possibility that
some originals may have been purely autograph. However, before discussing the ques-
tions of how common it may have been for painters to create purely autograph works
and if connoisseurs and art theorists had a particular preference for these, I will first
look more closely at the distinction made between masterpieces and works by pupils.
Master, pupil or ‘retouched’
By far most attributions in seventeenth-century inventories concern master painters,

although occasionally, especially in inventories belonging to artists and dealers, a
picture is identified as a work by a pupil (discipel or ‘leerling’). For example, the 1669
inventory of the Amsterdam collector Laurens Mauritsz Douci identifies a picture as
‘A cave by a pupil of Karel van der Hooch’ (Een grot van een discipel van Karel van de
Hooch), estimated at the relatively low price of 8 Carolus guilders.53 This differentiation
between works by masters and those by pupils indicates that not all paintings pro-
duced in a master’s studio could pass under his name. In fact, the master’s name must
have guaranteed at least a minimum level of quality.
The same conclusion can be drawn from a variety of contracts and notarial deeds,
which both suggest that a variety of pictures could pass under artist’s name, and that
there was a bottom line in terms of quality. For example, when the painter Isack van
Duijnen was confronted with a buyer who believed he had just bought a good picture
by Van Duijnen, the painter reputedly replied: ‘that is not by me, but by one of my
worst pupils, I pity you, for you have been deceived. Broekman [the dealer] bought it
from me for five guilders and I did not want to pass it off as a painting by me’.54 A care-
fully phrased judgement by Jacob van Ruisdael when asked in 1661 if a certain picture
was by Porcellis similarly suggests that a certain amount of input by others would be
acceptable in a work sold under Porcellis’s name but also that there was a definitive
bottom line, judging that : ‘if the before-mentioned Porcellis has started this work ...
the piece is nowadays altered to such an extent, that it would be inapt to sell it as a
Porcellis’.55 Together with the other painters that were consulted on this issue, he
stated that the picture was simply ‘not worthy to be sold ... as a piece by Porcellis’.56
In a work contract drawn up in 1648 for the prolific painter Jacob Jordaens, this
line of thought is explained even more explicitly. Jordaens was to produce 35 ceiling
paintings for the Swedish court, which would be painted ‘partly by himself and partly
by others, as Jordaens can most aptly judge himself. And that which will be painted by
others, he is obliged to paint over to such an extent, that it will be considered Jordae-
ns’s own work and therefore be entitled to bear his name and signature.’57 Moreover,
the Rotterdam painter Johannes van Vucht agreed in 1635 to deliver paintings which
‘will be allowed to pass as work by Van Vucht, such as he has previously delivered to
[the art dealer] Van Waesberge, and signed with his own hand’.58 Similar statements
can be found in a variety of artistic commissions drawn up throughout Europe, wit-
ness, for example, a commission given to the Italian sculptor Bernini by the French
minister of State Colbert on 9 December 1669. Bernini was to use students from the
newly founded French Academy in Rome in the execution of an equestrian statue of
King Louis XIV. But Bernini had to execute the head himself and apply the final touch-
es so that ‘one can say with truth that the work is entirely by you’.59 Similarly, Rubens
used the phrase ‘by my hand’ to describe works which he had in fact not painted
entirely by himself, as we will see.60
Phrases such as ‘the master’s own work’ or work ‘by his hand’ thus denoted a qual-
ity distinction. Where exactly the line was drawn between a work that could count as
by the master‘s hand, worthy of carrying the master’s signature, and one identified as
by a pupil and/or as retouched by the master must have depended on the individual
master and his personal judgement. It is very rare that we can identify a painting that
is listed in a seventeenth-century document as by an anonymous ‘pupil’ and/or as
retouched by the master. However, the little available evidence suggests that works
described as by a ‘pupil’ and/or as ‘retouched’ must have differed noticeably from the
master’s usual level of quality.
This can be deduced from statements in contracts and notarial deeds explaining
that if a work was retouched substantially enough, it could, in fact, count as by the
master, such as the above cited examples of Jordaens and Van Vucht illustrate. Thus,
if a work was explicitly identified as ‘retouched’, it must have been a cheaper kind of
picture. Rubens, for example, sold retouched student copies for cheaper prices than
his higher quality pictures. As he explained in a letter to the British collector Dudley
Carleton, ‘retouched copies … show more for their price’ (see also below, p. 43
and Natasja Peeters’ essay, p. 120).61 The mention of six retouched paintings in
Rembrandt’s inventory of 1656 (drawn up during the master’s lifetime) suggests that
Rembrandt also produced cheaper pictures.62
As to pupil work, the terms used in such descriptions seem telling: ‘leerling’ or ‘dis-
cipul’. These were pupils training with their first or second masters. Although the term
‘discipul’ seems to have generally indicated a more advanced student than the term
‘leerling’, the use of these terms varied a bit.63 For example, an elaborate draft statute
of the Haarlem painter’s guild dated 1631, uses the terms ‘leerling’ and ‘disciple’ inter-
changeably to refer to pupils in their first three years of training, and distinguishes
them sharply from paid assistants or journeymen (in Dutch ‘werckgesel’ or ‘vrije gast’).
In order to become an independent master, one had to work at least three years as a
pupil (‘leerling’ or ‘discipul’) and subsequently at least one year as journeyman
(‘werckgesel’ or ‘vrije gast’) for a master, according to this draft statute.64
Interestingly, no seventeenth-century document lists a painting as by a ‘gesel’ or
paid assistant of a certain master painter, which to me suggests that their share in the
studio production must have commonly counted as ‘by the master’ if it was done in
the master’s style. In some instances, these journeymen or paid assistants even
worked quite independently, creating works of their own invention and signing these
with their own names. In Haarlem, this was not uncommon; witness paintings by
Judith Leyster and Pieter de Grebber which these artists signed before they became
independent masters.65 As master painters had to pay the guild a much higher contri-
bution for having journeymen (paid assistants) than for having pupils it seems in any
case unlikely that they would have sold a journeyman’s work while calling it the work
of a ‘werckgesel’ or ‘vrije gast’.66
To conclude, the seventeenth-century distinction between works that could pass as
by a certain master and those ascribed to usually nameless ‘pupils’ of his cannot be
equated to the present-day tendency to separate purely autograph work from works
which were partially or entirely done by pupils and assistants. Although it may not be
possible to reconstruct exactly where a seventeenth-century master would have drawn
the line, the quality of ‘pupil work’ must have contrasted with the usual quality of
pictures sold under the master’s name.
Further distinctions: a preference for autograph pictures?
The fact that various types of studio collaborations – though certainly not all studio
products – could leave the studio under the master’s name, raises the question of
whether these then all enjoyed a similar value. Did master painters make further quality
distinctions? To what extent were contemporary buyers aware of the different types of
studio collaboration? Did painters keep their working methods a secret or were they
relatively open about their practices? And is there any evidence that painters or buyers
had a special interest in autograph works done by the master alone or was the master’s
name indeed merely a guarantee of a certain involvement and quality?
As with the exact type of studio collaboration, the openness of master painters about
their studio practices must have varied from one master to the next. And although some
connoisseurs were able to confidently recognise the master’s hand (see below), certainly
not all buyers had such a keen eye and some in fact did not realise that a signed work
was not necessarily painted by the master himself. A curious document in the Delft
archive illustrates such a misunderstanding. In 1644, a certain Sybert Dogger, the owner
of a painting signed by Willem van Aelst, claimed in an official bet that his picture was
by this master and referred to the signature to prove his point. He was challenged by
Adam Pick, a little-known painter of farm scenes, who stated he could demonstrate that,
despite the signature, the work was not painted by Van Aelst and that the latter had not
even touched it.67 Interestingly, Dogger seems unaware of the possibility that master
painters could sign works that were not or not entirely executed by themselves, and that
signatures could even be falsified. Pick, on the other hand, who had himself been a
pupil of Van Aelst, was clearly not impressed by the signature.
Four legal statements that Jaap van der Veen gathered even address the question of
whether or not a certain picture was executed entirely by the master himself.68 In a docu-
ment dated 1606, a certain Mr. van Leeuwen declared he would provide two ‘originals’
(principaele stukken) one by Abraham Bloemaert and one by Gillis van Coninxloo and
that ‘no-one but the afore-mentioned two masters had worked on the afore-mentioned
pieces’.69 Moreover, Ambrosius Bosschaert in 1615 declared that he had created a flower
still life entirely by his own hand ‘without having anyone else contribute with their hand
or work on it’.70 Similarly, Jan Miense Molenaer in 1653 declared that two paintings – a
peasant scene and one with a stone surgeon – had been made by him ‘without anyone
else having contributed something to these’.71 Lastly, in a document dated 1658, two
witnesses declared that Bartholomeus van der Helst had stated that he had painted a
certain picture of Diana and that it was an original, not a copy. When he was subse-
quently asked if anyone else had contributed to the piece, he shook his head.
While Van der Helst may have been lying – since he only shook his head, he could
always say that he had never actually said so – these sources are nonetheless telling. On
the one hand, these documents indicate that it was not self-evident that a work signed
and sold as by a certain master was indeed entirely executed by that master. On the oth-
er hand, they suggest that at least some painters deliberately created purely autograph
works and in doing so provided both seventeenth-century buyers and present-day con-
noisseurs with the certainty that at least some of their works can be expected to have
been done solely by their own hand. Moreover, at least four owners were so keen on
proving that their work was indeed by a specific master that they demanded a written
guarantee, an ‘expert-opinion’ or ‘Gutachtung’ avant-la-lettre.
As to how exactly painters presented their pictures when selling them to customers,
very little is known. One unique exception is the correspondence between Peter Paul
Rubens and the British ambassador to the Netherlands, Sir Dudley Carleton. In exchange
for Carleton’s collection of antique sculptures, Rubens offered him a choice of a number
of ‘paintings by [his] hand’ which he had available in his studio, in such a way that the
total value of the pictures would match that of the antique sculptures.72 As Carleton did
not have the opportunity to see the paintings for himself, Rubens described the pictures
fairly extensively in a letter dated 28 April 1618. Although all of the pictures counted as ‘by
Rubens’s hand’, they were not literally painted just by him. In fact, Rubens distinguished
five different types of studio products: originals by his hand, originals by his hand with a
contribution by a specialist (an animal by Snyders or a landscape by an unidentified land-
scape specialist73), copies by pupils after his own work that were retouched by himself,
one unfinished copy by a pupil that Rubens promised to finish so well that it would count
as an original by his hand, and lastly, works started by pupils and retouched by Rubens
himself.
Interestingly the copies and works begun by pupils which were subsequently worked
on by the master himself do not differ much in price from originals by Rubens’ hand. For
example, a single-figure 4 x 7 foot painting of Saint Sebastian by Rubens was the same
price of 300 guilders as a single-figure 5 x 7 foot painting of Susanna, which was started by
a pupil and retouched by Rubens. A worked-up copy of a Lion Hunt (8 x 11 feet) carried
the same 600 guilder price as a slightly larger original painting of Daniel in the Lion’s
Den by the master himself (8 x 12 feet). Because we can only identify the last work, it is
hard to say what could explain this remarkable price difference; perhaps the picture of
the hunt contained more figures (on the pricing of Rubens’ pictures, see also essay
Natasja Peeters below, esp. p. 107 ff). In general, the relatively similar prices indicate that
Rubens considered all these works to be of good quality.74
Carleton subsequently chose works Rubens described as by his own hand and the
ones he did with specialists.75 For this reason, the correspondence between Carleton and
Rubens has been interpreted as unique evidence that at least one affluent art lover had a
preference for purely autograph originals.76 However, it seems more accurate to state that
among the works that could count as by Rubens’ hand, Carleton picked the works of the
highest quality whether these were technically entirely by Rubens’ hand or not. For Carle-
ton did not seem to mind the hand of another master or a specialist assistant; he picked a
painting of Prometheus with an eagle by the animal specialist Snyders, as well as a paint-
ing of leopards with a landscape by an unnamed specialist. Moreover, he did not protest
when Rubens let him know that his landscape specialist had worked up parts of several
pictures that the master had described as purely by his own hand: ‘According to my habit,
I have taken a specialist gentleman to finish the landscapes only to increase the taste of
Your Excellency but in the other parts please be assured that I have not allowed a living
soul to touch these works’, Rubens wrote on 28 May 1618.77 By that time, Carleton had
also accepted a worked-up copy (the Lion’s Hunt) and a work started by a pupil (the Susan-
na) as part of the exchange, after Rubens promised he would retouch them so extensively
that they would have the same ‘quality’ (bontà) as originals by his hand.78
When describing the various pictures to Carleton, Rubens indicated subtle grada-
tions in quality and price among works that all counted as ‘by his hand’. As to what extent
other masters differentiated between pictures they sold under their own names, much
research remains to be done. It seems likely, however, that master painters who collabo-
rated with pupils and or assistants in various ways like Jordaens and Van Miereveld would
have made similar price and quality distinctions. Interestingly, one such master, Gerrit
van Honthorst, seems to have indicated variations in the quality of his paintings by alter-
ing his signature.
Quality distinctions reflected in the signature
In the paintings Gerrit van Honthorst produced for the Oranjezaal in Huis ten Bosch,
he used two distinct signatures: his name ‘GvHonthorst’ and ‘GvHonthorts fe[cit]’, the
latter reads in latin: made by Gerrit van Honthorst. (figs. 4, 5 and 6) Jolanda de Bruijn,
who extensively researched three of the five works which Honthorst was commis-
sioned to make for the Oranjezaal, Allegory on the Marriage of Frederik Hendrik and
Amalia van Solms, Wiliam II’s Reception of Mary Stuart upon her Arrival in the Nether-
lands, and Frederik Hendrik’s Steadfastness, noticed distinct differences in execution
between these three pictures. She considered Frederick Henry’s Steadfastness, signed
with the longer signature, to be more skilfully and efficiently executed than the other
two works: the figures were well-rounded, showing subtle gradations in skin colour,
including a bluish middle tone, which were largely lacking in the other works. She
thus speculated that the signature ‘GvHonthorst’ indicated studio products of lesser
quality than the painting signed ‘GvHonthorts fe[cit]’.79 While the master in both
instances must have obviously thought the pictures worthy of carrying his name, he
seemed much more closely involved in the actual execution of the work signed with
the longer signature.
Although Honthorst’s most recent oeuvre catalogue does not distinguish various
quality levels among the pictures attributed to Honthorst, this seems a worthwhile
pursuit.80 Out of the 295 history paintings and pastoral scenes labelled authentic,
31 carry the longer ‘GvHonthorst fe[cit]’ signature, including some of his most famous
masterpieces such as his Saint Sebastian (National Gallery London) and the Merry
Fiddler (Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam).81 If authentic, these signatures seem certainly
worthy of further study. Interestingly, only about 14 of the 224 portraits attributed to
Honthorst in the catalogue carry the ‘GvHonthorst fe[cit]’ signature, which could
possibly mean that the master was less closely involved with the many portraits pro-
duced in his studio.82
While Honthorst’s practice may at first sight seem rather curious, an anecdote
which was mentioned by several seventeenth-century art theorists, explains it. Already
in antiquity, artists reputedly used their signature to indicate distinct quality levels.
According to the ancient writer Pliny, some of the most famous painters and sculptors
had inscribed the majority of their works with a signature disclaiming finality, such as
‘Apelles faciebat’ (being made by Apelles) or simply ‘Polyclitus’. Reputedly, they did so
out of modesty to indicate that these artworks were not finished. Moreover, it gave
them a means to save their face should one such work be criticized. They could claim
they would have made a desired correction if only the work had not been taken from
them by forces beyond their control. According to Pliny, solely three artworks were
known to carry a signature implying completion (‘X fecit’, ‘Made by X’), testifying of
the supreme confidence the artists had in these particular pieces.83 In the seventeenth
century, this story was recounted by Karel van Mander, Etienne Binet and Franciscus
Junius among others.84
Thus far, the signing habits of seventeenth-century Netherlandish painters have
not been studied in relation to this story. Netherlandish painters all regularly used
Latin phrases when signing their works, and many of them probably realised the con-
notations of the different Latin phrases. In the case of Honthorst, his signing habits
match the art theoretical account so literally that he must have known the story. It
would be interesting to know in how far other painters (especially those heading larger
workshops) used distinct signatures to distinguish between various levels of quality of
their paintings, and how possible distinctions would have been reflected in the price.
Also, could the addition of ‘f’ after the artist’s name, which is commonly interpreted as
an abbreviation of ‘fecit’, also stand for ‘faciebat’, and indicate a deliberate attempt by
the painter to not specify exactly how finished he judged the work to be?
4.
5. 6.
4. Gerrit van Honthorst, see colorplate p. 180

Allegory on the Marriage of Frederik Hendrik and Amalia van Solms,1651
Oranjezaal, Huis ten Bosch

Wiliam II’s Reception of Mary Stuart upon her Arrival in the Netherlands, 1649

The Constancy of Frederik Hendrik, after 1649
Seventeenth-century insights as to attributing pictures
Studio practices and signing habits are of course crucial when trying to recognise the
master’s hand and to attribute seventeenth-century pictures. Various seventeenth-
century sources on connoisseurship throw some further light on contemporary ideas
about authenticity, for they give an impression of seventeenth-century attribution prac-
tices, and therefore help to answer the question of whether these early connoisseurs
faced problems that are similar to what we face today. What elements did they consider
particularly revealing? How did seventeenth-century connoisseurs go about attributing
paintings that were not necessarily painted by the master alone? Were they able to dis-
tinguish between different hands within a painting? And did they care to distinguish
workshop assistance?
Manner
Although the design of pictures could be of great importance when attributing pictures,
many specific recommendations in the early literature on connoisseurship focus on the
execution.85 Most early writers on connoisseurship believed that a painter’s characteris-
tic manner could best be recognised in areas that are executed with a certain boldness
and resolution. Such areas were seen as particularly hard to imitate, which also
explained why paintings done in a bold or free manner were more easily distinguished
from copies than pictures done in a very precise and fine manner. As a general rule of
thumb, the painter’s characteristic handwriting was to be found in those passages in
which the painter did not follow nature too closely but relied on his imagination and
inborn talents. The advice on which areas tended to be particularly telling varied a bit
from one author to the next. In the first draft of his chapter on ‘judging pictures’ (Con-
siderazioni sulla Pittura, c. 1617-19) Giulio Mancini pointed out muscles and draperies
as examples, but with an ellipsis he indicated that he intended to elaborate his thoughts
later. In the more elaborate version written in c. 1620, Mancini stated that locks of hair,
ringlets in beards, the definition of eyes as well as confidently applied light and dark
accents in the folds and highlights of drapery were all good examples of areas where the
master’s manner and resolution could be recognised. Mancini himself did not give a
specific example of these confident drapery folds; however, his analysis seems applica-
ble to the execution of drapery in Jan Steen’s paintings, particularly the characteristic
accents that Van Dantzig labelled the ‘mussel stroke’(fig. 7).
Two decennia earlier, Karel van Mander was even more explicit. In his view, a paint-
er’s characteristic ‘spirit’ (gheest) could best be recognised in the depiction of ‘leaves,
hair, air and draperies’ (bladen, hayr, locht, en laken). He added that, out of these ele-
ments, the depiction of draperies was the most dependent on the painter’s spirit – pre-
sumably because the painter here enjoyed the greatest freedom of invention and execu-
tion, since draperies can be depicted in a sheer endless variety of shapes, textures and
colours.
When Van Mander discussed the uniqueness of an artist’s manner of painting,86 he
indeed frequently focussed on characteristic details such as the depiction of hair and a
drapery. For example, when comparing Lucas van Leyden’s prints to similar works by
Dürer, Van Mander observes that Lucas van Leyden had ‘a different, sweeter, more con-
tinuous manner of incision with which he depicted his receding and flowing drapery’.87
(fig. 8 and fig. 9)
7. 8.
7. Jan Steen, see colorplate p. 179

(entire painting)
Merry Family (So de Oude Songen,
Pijpen de Jonge) [detail], 1668
Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam
8. Albrecht Dürer, see plate p. 181

(entire painting)
Melancholia [detail of the drapery figure
Melancholia], 1514
9. Lucas van Leyden, see plate p. 181

(entire painting)
The Holy Family [detail of the drapery
figure right foreground], 1506-1510 9.
Moreover, when discussing Holbein, Van Mander notes that this painter had a
certain ‘firmness in drafting and painting’ which one can see in all his works, and an
orderly way of building up his works which was ‘very different from other painters’.
He explained this by pointing out how Holbein depicted hair or a beard: he would first
paint the area in general terms with perfectly accurate shadows, and once this layer
was dry, he would paint the hairs or beard very naturally over it with a free-flowing
brush.88 (fig. 10 )
10. Hans Holbein, see colorplate p. 182

(entire painting)
Henry VIII, [detail], c. 1536
Thyssen-Bornemisza Collection, Madrid. 10.
As to the depiction of leaves, it seems important to realise that in Van Mander’s time,
Netherlandish painters did not often base their depictions of trees on close observa-
tion of natural trees but preferred to invent a manner that would convincingly evoke
nature.89 Having a convincing manner and matching brush technique to suggest
leaves in painting remained important throughout the century; compare, for example,
Jacob van Ruisdael’s hallmark dense foliage with Meindert Hobbema’s airy depiction
of leaves, often silhouetted against the sky. However, very few painters (Jacob van
Ruisdael being one of the exceptions) combined their specific manner with botanical
accuracy. (fig. 11 and fig. 12)
12.
11. Jacob van Ruisdael, see colorplate p. 183

(entire painting)
Forest Scene [detail of the foliage], c. 1655
National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C.
12. Meindert Hobbema, see colorplate p. 183

(entire painting)
11. Farm in the Sunlight [detail of the foliage], c. 1668
National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C.
By the mid-seventeenth-century, Van Mander’s observation that a painter’s character-

istic spirit could readily be recognised in the depiction of leaves, was fairly widespread
knowledge; Charles Alphonse du Fresnoy’s dictionary of painting terms lists ‘the
touch of trees’ (de slag van bomen): ‘One says that the trees in this landscape have been
depicted with a very recognisable touch, or this Painter hits his trees well.’90
As noted above, the insights as to exactly which elements were ‘telling’ varied
somewhat from one author to the next. For example, Cornelis de Bie believed that light
and dark accents in the paintings of Gerrit van Honthorst were particularly ‘spirited’
(gheestig)”, while Paul Fréart de Chantelou recorded in his diary that Bernini believed
that the depictions of hands were especially revealing.91 However, all these characteris-
tics seem to have one common denominator: an inventive and resolute execution.
The paradox of seventeenth-century connoisseurship
So far, the elements discussed as important are those which show distinctly individual
brush marks. Indeed, much like handwriting specialists looked for resolute turns and
curves in free-hand writing, so aspiring connoisseurs were advised to look for charac-
teristic habits of the brush.92 This practice of singling out the individual handwriting
of the painter seems to be in sharp contrast with what is known about seventeenth-
century studio practices. For how can the practice of singling out individual hands be
reconciled with the habit of master painters to also sign works that they had not neces-
sarily executed entirely by themselves? It is this seeming contradiction that I call the
paradox of seventeenth-century connoisseurship.
While some of the above-mentioned advice seems to suggest that at least some
early modern connoisseurs were primarily looking for individual habits of the brush
and thus for individual hands, there is reason to believe that their thinking was, in fact,
not necessarily at odds with contemporary studio practice; that their search for the
master’s characteristic touch did not necessarily mean they were looking for purely
autograph works. In my opinion, two passages in Junius and Hoogstraten’s treatises
are particularly telling in this respect. Although both authors have been mentioned
before in relation to seventeenth-century studio practices, these passages have not yet
been studied in this context. When discussing how a knowledgeable art lover should
look at a painting, Junius stresses the fact that not all of the elements in a painting
were equally important. Therefore he advises his readers to not pay undue attention to
unimportant areas, to the mere ‘byworke’ or ‘parerga’ as these were called in Latin:
‘because the Artificers goe over these workes slightly and with a light hand, so it is that
we doe likewise for the most part examine them more negligently.’93
Some 40 years later, Samuel van Hoogstraten repeated Junius’s warning and used
his practical experience as a painter to clarify the reasoning: ‘It is certainly amusing to
listen in when sometimes ignorant yet conceited art lovers, wanting to point out the
best part of a certain piece, pick out something so ordinary, which the Master executed
practically in his sleep, or at least while he was resting from his more important tasks.
The ancients saw these as excesses or extras to the important tasks, and they called
these Parerga; in the works of great Masters these are usually done by pupils and nov-
ices, or by some others, who were able to create these.’94 According to Van Hoogstraten,
the workshop practice should thus be taken into account when looking at a painting;
erudite art lovers (connoisseurs) should focus on the masterly passages, not on the
subsidiary work.
Contrary to Junius, however, Samuel van Hoogstraten had, as noted, first-hand

experience as a painter. He had trained with Rembrandt and it is tempting to think
that his treatise, which often seems to reflect Rembrandt’s thinking, also does when
he is discussing parerga. His statement that all great masters used assistance in their
work is, in any case, revealing. It was a practice of which Hoogstraten approved, as he
also stresses elsewhere: ‘I will gladly allow a master to use the assistance of others,
who are experienced in ‘subordinate passages (bywerk)’ in major works; but he who
wants to rightfully carry the name of Master of History Painting should also know how
to do the ‘subordinate passages (bywerk)’ [himself] in case this is urgently needed.’95
The distinction between masterly and subordinate passages is, in my opinion, very
important. Interestingly, the passages that were labelled by the different early art theo-
rists as particularly telling when trying to attribute a picture, show parallels with what
was seen as ‘masterly’ and ‘difficult’, as we will see below, passages which were in fact
often executed by the master. Although the specific areas that the different art theo-
rists singled out as illustrative could also refer to secondary passages – in particular
leaves and draperies were not necessarily key elements in a seventeenth-century paint-
ing – their description of how a master’s characteristic style can be recognised sug-
gests that such elements were only considered important if executed soundly. In the
history paintings that Rubens sent to Carleton, for example, the figures, not the back-
ground landscapes, were key elements; and I suspect it was for this reason that he had
his landscape specialist (probably a paid assistant since he is not mentioned by name)
finish these secondary passages and assured Carleton that the other (read: key) parts
were entirely by himself. In any case, it looks like seventeenth-century connoisseurs,
contrary to later thinkers,96 did not, in principle, judge all areas of a painting equally
important. Instead, when analysing the brushwork the art theorists and connoisseurs
whose thoughts have come down to us, all seem to have been looking for bold,
resolute and spirited strokes, that is: for touches showing mastery.
Masterly passages
In the art theoretical literature a certain looseness and boldness in the execution of
both sketches and finished paintings was associated with mastery. Willem Goeree, for
example, explains in his treatise on the art of drawing of 1668 that a finely executed
drawing done in the ‘reusel’ technique (with parallel strokes one immediately next to
the previous one so the result looks uniform) will not look ‘masterly’ (meesterlijk)
unless it also contains some quickly and loosely applied accents.97 Even Philips Angel
who generally believed it was better for painters to imitate nature as closely as possible
rather than to develop a manner of painting, still strongly praised the ‘curious loose-
ness’ (curieuse lossicheyt) in the brushwork by his favourite painter, Gerard Dou.98
Vasari and Van Mander described masterly applied loose strokes not only as diffi-
cult to execute, but also as difficult to imitate and, therefore, all the more characteris-
tic of the artist who had created them. Van Hoogstraten also praised the difficulty and
mastery evident in loosely executed masterpieces.99 In France, art lovers even called
freely and loosely applied brushwork ‘artistically touched’ (artistement touché).100 The
interest in loose brushwork is further underscored in the amount of terms used to
indicate bold and resolute brushwork; Abraham Bosse, for example, uses no less than
four different terms: ‘artistically touched, sketchy, forceful and proud’ (artiste, croqué,
sevelt, and fier).101
Together with the design of a picture, the accents that were applied while working
up a painting after the main parts had been painted in, were seen as some of the most
difficult parts of the painting. This is evident, for example, in a passage from a 1621
French book on eloquence, which aims to give the reader a quick overview of the
knowledge necessary to talk eloquently about art: ‘The profile, the gestures, the sym-
metries and proportions, the faces and expressions are those which give a sound to the
brush and they are the principle elements in the entire enterprise. The inside is easy to
make, but the profile, the last touches and heightening are necessarily the most diffi-
cult.’102 Abraham Bosse similarly stresses how the contours and light and dark areas
are often hard to execute: ‘a large part of that which makes an element appear in the
round and to move away from the viewer and seem to disappear, as well as the con-
tours are all rather difficult to do well.’103
It seems logical that master painters would execute such difficult areas single-
handedly and that they would finish and retouch pictures which were (partly) done by
pupils and assistants especially in these areas.104 Interestingly, it is exactly these fea-
tures, that is: the light and dark accents and final touches which Mancini and De Bie
among others singled out as particularly characteristic when describing a painter’s
personal style, as areas where one can expect to see the master’s resolute handling of
the brush.105 According to the painter and art theorist Arnold Houbraken, Frans Hals
even had a habit of calling these final touches ‘the recognisable features of the master’
(het kennelyke van de meester).106
In fact, it seems like the vocabulary of early modern connoisseurs was mostly
geared towards discerning masterly elements in a painting, witness, for example, the
terms which De Chambray described as typical of the connoisseurs of his day:
‘The Freshness and Loveliness of the Colouring, the Freedom of the brush, the bold
Touches, the Colours thickly impasted and well nourished, the separation of the Mass-
es, the Draperies well cast, the rare Folds, the Masterful Strokes, the Grand Manner,
the Muscles strongly felt, the beautiful Contours, the beautiful Tints, and the Softness
of the Flesh tones, the beautiful Groups, the beautiful Passages, and a great many oth-
er chimeries of this kind.’107
The flesh tones – mentioned by De Chambray in connection with ‘softness’ – were also
considered hard to paint. In France, there was even a specific expression for the depic-
tion of flesh tones, as Etienne Binet explained in 1621: ‘The painter has a good touch,
that is to say, he is good at depicting bare skin, that is to say, of the face, of the hands
and of the feet for the rest is clothed.’108 Not surprisingly, perhaps, in seventeenth- cen-
tury portraits, the face and hands (areas of exposed flesh tones) were commonly paint-
ed by the master himself, while pupils and assistants occasionally helped with the sec-
ondary elements, such as the clothing and the background.109
Beyond the paradox
Although primary sources on seventeenth-century connoisseurship are relatively

scarce and there is no reason to assume that all seventeenth-century connoisseurs
would have agreed on what elements exactly were the most telling when attributing
pictures (if only because master painters’ studio practices and styles could vary
considerably), the surviving sources seem coherent enough to formulate a hypothesis.
I suspect that an awareness of contemporary studio practices made knowledgeable

connoisseurs focus all the more on masterly aspects, that is, more on the main ele-
ments than on the subsidiary work (‘bywerk’) and more on the difficult and resolute
brushwork than on subordinate passages.110 Also, I suspect that this made the overall
quality of the picture all the more important. As we have seen, a picture was worthy of
carrying the master’s name if it was made under a master’s supervision and of high
enough quality whether or not it was entirely executed by the master himself. It is
interesting how many sources on early attributions underscore this reasoning;
witness, for example, the largest attribution controversy of the seventeenth century:
the Uylenburgh case.
In 1671, the Amsterdam dealer Gerrit Uylenburgh had sold 13 old master paint-
ings to the German Elector of Brandenburgh.111 Uylenburgh believed the works to be
originals by masters such as Michelangelo, Holbein, Titian and Palma il Giovane;
however, once the paintings arrived in Berlin, the Elector’s court painter Hendrick
Fromantiou dismissed 12 of them as copies.112 Subsequently, the paintings were
returned to the Netherlands and toured the country while both Uylenburgh and
Fromantiou collected expert opinions on the status of the pictures.
When asked whether the contested pictures were indeed done by the master
under whose name they were sold, most painters and connoisseurs did not answer
the question directly, but instead stated that the pictures were either good or not
good enough to be sold under the various master’s own names. For example, Philips
Koninck reputedly responded that he thought the pictures were ‘painted with virtue
and art’ and ‘worthy of carrying the name of the masters under whose name they were
sold and that they were estimated and judged to be so by unbiased connoisseurs of
Italian art and painters’.113 Dirck Santvoort and Anthonie de Grebber judged the pic-
tures worthy of hanging in a cabinet of Italian pictures114, while, on the other hand,
the heads of the painters guild in The Hague considered the quality of the pictures
‘not worthy to carry the name of a good master, much less those of such exquisite mas-
ters as the ones under whose name they were sold’.115 Similarly, a number of Antwerp
specialists believed the works were ‘not notable [enough] to be sold by such mas-
ters’.116
Comparable comments can be found in other legal statements. For example, a
picture in the manner of the still life painter Den Uyl the Elder was judged ‘not beauti-
ful enough’ (niet fray genoech) to be by the master in 1650.117 Moreover, in the case of a
painting in the manner of Porcellis, four painters including Jacob van Ruisdael and
Allart van Everdingen, concluded that the painting was not ‘worthy’ (waerdich) to be
sold as a Porcellis.118
These kinds of general quality assessments could also be explained by the possi-
bility that the specialists involved did not have sufficient knowledge of the painter’s
specific manner to produce a more accurate assessment. This may indeed have been
true, especially in the Uylenburgh case, which concerned exclusively Italian pictu-
res.119 But even if that was the case, that in itself would also be interesting. For, if it
was in any way common to officially record opinions of painting specialists who did
not necessarily know much about the specific manners of the painters under whose
name contested works had been sold, then to these seventeenth-century viewers qual-
ity apparently mattered much more than the specific recognition of the master’s
hand. Interestingly, this is also the impression one gets from the high-end market for
paintings in the second half of the seventeenth century. Both attributed and unattrib-
uted paintings fetched high prices; apparently the increased interest in painters’
names did not mean that the highest end of the market was reserved for attributed
works (see below, Koenraad Jonckheere’s essay).
The interest in quality even without knowing a painter’s name is also evident in a
diary entry from Constantijn Huygens Jr., in which he described the art collection of
the Elector of Brandenburg, which he saw in 1680 in Berlin. One of the works he found
noteworthy he described as ‘a good portrait of a woman by the master who made the
two figures near a table in the collection of Mr. van Ommeren’.120 Apparently, Huygens
thus memorised the characteristics of paintings he found interesting even without
knowing the artist’s name.121
Collaborations
Although seventeenth-century connoisseurs were, in various cases, able to distinguish

different hands within a certain painting, they did not always do so. The desire to iden-
tify individual hands seems to have been related to the type of collaboration evident in
the picture. Recognising the input of two different masters in one painting was a very
different matter from identifying anonymous studio assistants in a well-known mas-
ter’s work.
In art theoretical treatises we can find various examples of paintings mentioned as
by a certain master, which were certainly not done solely by this painter. When Van
Mander discusses the famous Portrait of Pope Leo X with Two Cardinals (c. 1518, Uffizi,
Florence) which Raphael painted with the aid of Giulio Romano, he repeats most of
Vasari’s account, yet fails to mention the input of Giulio Romano. In Vasari’s account,
Giulio plays a key role since he is fooled by a copy of the portrait thinking he recog-
nised his own brushwork (though what it was exactly that he painted remains unclear).
To Van Mander however, Giulio’s involvement was apparently not worth mentioning,
and he discusses the portrait simply as a ‘Raphael’.
When discussing Holbein’s painting of Henry VIII and the Barber Surgeons (fig. 13),
Van Mander’s reasoning becomes even more explicit. Van Mander observes that
‘There are some people who believe that this work has not been completed in its entire-
ty by Holbein himself. But that after Holbein’s death it was completed by someone
else; however, if this was the case, this painter has imitated Holbein’s manner (hande-
linghe) so sensibly (verstandig) that neither a Painter nor an Art expert would distin-
guish different hands.’122
The attribution discussion that Van Mander (and later Von Sandrart also 123) men-
tions, is very interesting for several reasons. It is often stated that early connoisseur-
ship developed at a time when the practice of art collecting became more widespread
and the art market flourished. And while this was certainly the case, it seems impor-
tant to remind oneself that this relation was not mutually exclusive; that is to say: attri-
butions and quality judgements were not necessarily made in the context of the art
market. Holbein’s picture in the Hall of the Barber Surgeons Guild was obviously not
for sale, and its attribution or partial de-attribution was not a prelude to giving the
work a price tag. The attribution of this large, prestigious work was an end in itself, an
interesting topic for intellectual debate.
Van Mander’s conclusion is also revealing. Even if the picture is partly done by
another hand, he writes, as long as it is well done he does not care to distinguish dif-
ferent hands and neither would, according to him, another painter or art expert.124
Unfortunately, it is hard to judge the brushwork in this painting since the work has
13.
Hans Holbein, see colorplate p. 184

Henry VIII and the Barber Surgeons, begun 1541-43
Hall of the Barber-Surgeons Guild, London
been very heavily restored after it was severely damaged by the Great Fire of London in
1666. However, in this particular instance, we know for sure that the picture was fin-
ished after Holbein’s death in 1543, since two men depicted in the top row on the right,
Mr. X. Salmon and Mr. W. Tully, only became wardens of the guild after Holbein had
passed away.125
The people who in Van Mander’s time stated that the work was finished after
Holbein’s death were thus right. In my opinion, it is telling that the early seventeenth-
century debate focused on a possible contribution to the work done when the master
himself could no longer supervise the work. Had the work been completed under
Holbein’s supervision, I very much doubt there would have been any discussion at
all.126
Even though this work was completed after Holbein’s death, Van Mander believes
that no one knowledgeable about the arts would have minded. A similar view can be
found in Giulio Mancini’s Considerazioni. When discussing quality in art, Mancini
uses the Sala di Costantino as an example of an exquisite Raphael painting.127 However,
it was common knowledge at the time that this room had largely been completed after
Raphael’s death, a fact that Vasari had discussed extensively in his Vite.128 Mancini
knew Vasari’s treatise very well, as he wrote a concise comment about it. Moreover, he
worked, as the personal physician to the Pope, in the very building in which this fresco
series can still be seen. In short, he must have been well aware of the execution proc-
ess. But, in his view, a work done after Raphael’s designs by his own assistants could
simply be called a ‘Raphael’.
Seventeenth-century connoisseurs were not necessarily against identifying studio
input; especially if a picture produced in a master’s studio was not worthy of carrying
the master’s name or when differentiating between various quality levels, the relative
shares of master and pupil could be relevant.129 And if a certain pupil had executed a
specific figure in a painting by his master, this might occasionally be worthy of men-
tion. For example, when Van Mander discusses a painting by Maarten van Heemskerk,
he somewhat casually mentions that ‘the angel is very exceptionally and ornately exe-
cuted: the lower lips are purplish, which have been done by Jacob Rauwert who lived
with him [Van Mander] at the time, as I have heard.’130 A curious contribution by an
assistant could thus, in some instances, be noteworthy, but, in general, seventeenth-
century connoisseurs did not seem to have been particularly interested in identifying
studio input in great detail. The remarkable absence of mentions of such collabora-
tions in inventories, notarial deeds and personal writings suggests that connoisseurs
did indeed examine subordinate passages ‘negligently’ as Junius and Hoogstraten
advised.
As to recognising the hand of two different masters in one painting, this was a pur-
suit that already intrigued connoisseurs in the early seventeenth-century. Especially in
the Southern Netherlands, where specialist collaborations were widespread, the inter-
est seems to have been considerable. For example, in Antwerp, roughly one percent of
the attributions recorded in inventories between 1611 and 1650 concerned attributed
collaborations, in a sample researched by Elisabeth Honig.131 In the North, collabora-
tions between two masters also occurred, especially in landscape and architectural
paintings in which the figures were sometimes added by another master.132 However,
in the North, the opinions seem to have been divided on the artistic merits of these
collaborations. For example, Willem Goeree warned his readers in 1670 that it was
better to paint the figures oneself than to have these added by another master. Even if
the other master painted better figures, the painting as a whole would not necessarily
be improved, according to Goeree, since additional figures usually did not agree with
the ‘houding’ in a painting, that is: the subtle use of colours, shadows and light to
create a sense of pictorial depth.133
A fascinating account of the interest in recognising the hands of two different
masters within a certain picture comes from a letter by Toby Matthew to Sir Dudley
Carleton on 25 February 1617. In this letter, Matthew discusses a hunting piece by
Rubens in which Carleton and Matthew thought they had recognised the hand of
Snyders:
‘Concerning the causinge of anie part thereof to be made by Snyders, that other famous
Painter, Y[ou]r L[ordshi]p and I have been in an errour, for I thought as y[o]u doe, that
his hand had been in that Peece, but sincerely and certainly it is not soe. For in this
Peece the beasts are all alive, and in act of eyther escape or resistance, in the expres-
sion whereof Snyder doth infinitlie come short of Rubens, and Rubens saith that he
should take it in ill part, if I should compare Snyders with him in that point. The talent
of Snyders, is to represent beasts but especiallie Birds altogether dead, and wholly w[i]
thout anie action …’134
Less than a year later, however, Rubens seemed to contradict himself when he
informed Carleton that the eagle in his picture of Prometheus was done by Snyders
(fig. 14. Peter Paul Rubens and Frans Snyders, Prometheus, ca. 1611-1612, completed
by 1618, Philadelphia Museum of Art).135 It was a picture that Carleton acquired as part
of the collection of works he exchanged with Rubens136 and the eagle in this picture is
certainly not represented ‘without anie action’; quite the opposite, it looks very
dynamic. To reconcile these contradictory accounts, one could state, as Peter Sutton
has done, that the eagle must have been designed by Rubens and subsequently exe-
cuted by Snyders, which would explain the expression of energy.137 After all, Snyders’
individual paintings do look somewhat stiff and lack a comparable dynamism. In
fact, this kind of assessing of the possible merits and characteristics of these two
masters may have been exactly the type of activity that would have delighted a seven-
teenth-century connoisseur like Carleton.
14.
Peter Paul Rubens and Frans Snyders

Prometheus, c. 1611-1612
Philadelphia Museum of Art, Philadelphia
Conclusion
Like present-day experts, seventeenth-century painters and connoisseurs were keen

on attaching names to pictures. However, their ways of labelling pictures differed
somewhat from ours. Master painters could claim pictures as their own and even
describe works as ‘by their hand’ which they had not literally painted themselves, as
Rubens, for example, did. Moreover, the term ‘original’ (principael or origineel) did not
mean that a picture was executed by the master alone. They did distinguish works wor-
thy of carrying their name from those they sold anonymously as by a ‘pupil’ (leerling /
disciple) and/or works they had merely ‘retouched’ (geretukkeert), though if done well
these last works could also simply be considered paintings by the master. Input from a
‘paid assistant’ (gesel) would have presumably counted as by the master if done in the
master’s style. Furthermore, it seems likely that many a master painter made quality
distinctions between the works that counted as by their hand, possibly using Latin
phrases to indicate different quality levels, like Apelles and other ancient painters had
reputedly done. For example, Gerrit Honthorst seems to have added ‘fecit’(has made)
to his signature to indicate the highest level of quality. In studios, the highest quality
presumably stemmed from a closer involvement by the master himself; these pictures
could be autograph, however, this was not necessarily the case (witness Rubens’s cor-
respondence). Although the main seventeenth-century categories of thought (that is:
the distinctions between originals and copies and between masterpieces, works by
pupils and retouched works) do not represent a special interest in purely autograph
pictures by the master, this does not, however, exclude the possibility that such works
were (occasionally) made and that some buyers may have had a special interest in
these. In fact, a handful of documents indicates that at least some painters (namely
Ambrosius Bosschaert, Jan Miense Molenaer, Abraham Bloemaert, Gillis van Coninx-
loo, and possibly Bartholomeus van der Helst) created one or more autograph pictures
and that four buyers wanted to have certainty as to the execution of one such work.
Early modern art theorists also suggest that seventeenth-century connoisseurs
were keen on recognising the master’s touch. However, they do not seem to have been
particularly preoccupied with deciding whether or not a picture was entirely auto-
graph. Several seventeenth-century art theorists recommended that readers look for
distinctively individual brushwork in order to recognise a master’s hallmark style,
which at first seems to imply that seventeenth-century attribution practices could have
been at odds with contemporary studio practice. It is this seeming contradiction that I
have called the paradox of seventeenth-century connoisseurship. However, upon close
study, it looks like seventeenth-century attribution practices (in as far as these can be
reconstructed on the basis of the surviving texts on the topic) were not necessarily at
odds with studio habits. Interestingly, both Franciscus Junius and Samuel van Hoog-
straten emphasise the importance of focusing on key elements in a painting while
looking at the secondary passages more heedlessly. Van Hoogstraten further explained
his advice by adding that great masters commonly had their pupils and assistants exe-
cute the secondary elements. My hypothesis is that this somewhat hierarchical way of
looking at the situation was quite common among connoisseurs. For example, witness
the emphasis early writers on connoisseurship put on masterly passages, and the
absence of primary sources that distinguished studio input in pictures worthy of carry-
ing a master’s name. Although an occasional art buyer may have had a particular pref-
erence for purely autograph pictures, this does not seem to have been a very wide-
spread concern; if we are to believe Karel van Mander and Samuel van Hoogstraten,
knowledgeable art lovers did not mind contributions by other hands if these were
done well and /or only concerned secondary elements. By comparison, connoisseurs
seem to have been generally more interested in recognising the hands of two different
masters if they had collaborated on the same composition (and I suspect that in doing
so they focused again on masterly elements).
As to present-day connoisseurship, do seventeenth-century categories of thought
(in so far as they can be reconstructed on the basis of the sources I studied) call for
thorough revisions of the oeuvre catalogues of seventeenth-century painters? Possibly
yes. In my opinion, the seventeenth-century sources studied here raise three impor-
tant questions, which deserve further study (though they may prove to be hard to
answer in individual cases). The need to rewrite existing oeuvre catalogues depends on
the outcome of these questions. Firstly, to what extent did seventeenth-century paint-
ers such as Honthorst and Rembrandt consciously produce works of various levels of
quality? Secondly, the relatively modest amount of evidence that suggests painters
created purely autograph pictures calls for caution when attributing paintings entirely
to the hand of a master or entirely to the hands of his pupils and assistants. Moreover,
this warrants the question of what exactly was the master’s share in the various studi-
os? Thirdly, if the point of departure for attributions to a specific master is no longer a
group of works which is considered to be entirely autograph, but rather the key charac-
teristics in documented or firmly attributed works, such as the design and the execu-
tion of the main areas and accents, does this lead to a different understanding of the
master’s hallmark style and his oeuvre? If the answer to any of these questions leads to
new insights about a seventeenth-century painter, there is cause for a revision.
* I would like to thank Marten Jan Bok, Koenraad avec une suffisance magistrale; concluant enfin que
Jonckheere, Arjan de Koomen and Eric Jan Sluijter de 300 dessins qu’on donnait pour des Raphael il
for their insightful comments on earlier drafts of this n’en avoit que 2 d’originaux. Je donnerois quelque
essay. chose de bon pour le voir censurer les vostres et que
1 Jephta Dullaart (Sotheby’s Amsterdam) kindly vous fussiez derrière la tapisserie. Quand nous
informed me that currently at auctions, a good fusmes chez luy, il ne manqua pas d’y avoir des
‘Rembrandt studio’ painting is valued at about 5-10 controlleurs, dont j’estois des moindres, qui luy
percent of the price of an ‘autograph Rembrandt’. contestoient des pieces qu’il donnoit pour veritables
This basically means that a ‘Rembrandt studio’ Julio Romano et Raphael dont il se mettoit dans une
picture tends at best to fetch a price in the range of colere a nous faire rire tous, tellement qu’il n’y a point
six figures, while paintings considered to be entirely de comedie qui vaille une pareille conference.’ Letter
autograph Rembrandts start at about $5 million. from Christiaan Huygens to his brother Constantijn,
2 According to an agent of Pope Urban VIII, dated 1 June 1668, cited in: F. Grossman, ‘Holbein,
Inigo Jones boasted about being able to correctly Flemish Paintings and Everhard Jabach’, The
attribute all the works. See Jonathan Brown, Kings Burlington Magazine 93 (1951), pp. 16-25, esp. p. 18.
and Connoisseurs: collecting art in seventeenth- Christiaan Huygens, Oeuvres Complètes, 22 vols.,
century Europe, Princeton 1995, p. 47. A further The Hague 1888-1950, vol. 6 [1895], p.47.
indication that attributing paintings was considered 4 Roger de Piles, Conversations sur la
an entertaining pastime comes from Franciscus Connoissance de la Peinture, Paris 1677, pp. 5-7.
Junius, who argued in his The Painting of the De Piles is also aware of the difficulty of attributing
Ancients that analysing pictures was a better and works to masters who adjusted their manner
more innocent pastime than gambling, see depending on the subject they were painting. See my
Franciscus Junius, The Literature of Classical Art, forthcoming Ph.D. thesis The Fingerprint of an Old
Vol. I. The Painting of the Ancients, according to the Master: On the Attributions of Paintings by
English translation (1638), Keith Aldrich et. al. (eds.), Rembrandt, Rubens and their Contemporaries (esp.
Berkeley, Los Angeles and Oxford 1991, pp. 72-74. Chapter IV), University of Amsterdam 2008.
3 ‘Vous auriez un plaisir nonpareil à voir comme 5 See below, fig. 13, p. 54 and fig. 14. p. 56.
Jabach determine sur l’authenticité de ces pieces 6 Sales catalogues will be discussed by Koenraad
Jonckheere, see pp. 69-94 below. [As he argues, 14 Eddy de Jongh, ‘De dikke en de dunne Hals’,
commercial interests seem to have quite strongly Kunstschrift 34, 2 (1990), pp. 2-3.
influenced the connoisseurship in sales catalogues.] 15 Van der Veen’s research is discussed below.
7 On the trustworthiness of the judgements of 16 Claus Grimm, ’Die Frage nach der
painters and connoisseurs, see also The Painter Eigenhändigkeit und die Praxis der Zuschreibung’,
versus the Connoisseur, below in this volume, in: Thomas W. Gaetgens (ed.), Künstlerischer
pp. 127-145; see pp. 69-94 (Koenraad Jonckheere’s Austauch / Artistic Exchange, Akten des XXVIII.
essay in this volume) for a discussion of dealers Internationalen Kongresses für Kunstgeschichte
interests. Neil De Marchi and Hans Van Miegroet Berlin, 15-20. Juli 1992, Berlin 1993, pp. 631-648.
trace larger developments in the mentality of art 17 This is also the conclusion drawn by Wouter
sellers as the art market evolved, see pp. 149-174. Kloek and Guido Jansen in Rembrandt in a new
8 By contrast, auctioneers in the later Light, Presentation of Seven Restored Paintings by
seventeenth-century did use different standards Rembrandt, Amsterdam (Rijksmuseum) 1993 (exh.
when attributing pictures, see Koenraad pamphlet), who state that among other things the
Jonckheere’s essay, pp. 69-94 below. lack of wrinkles in the hands seems unusual for
9 Ernst van de Wetering, ‘The Search for the Rembrandt.
Master’s Hand: An Anachronism? (A Summary)’, in: 18 Bruyn explained his view as follows: ‘On the
Thomas W. Gaetgens (ed.), Künstlerischer Austauch whole, one may say that with Rembrandt design
/ Artistic Exchange, Akten des XXVIII. and execution were closely bound up. Instead of
Internationalen Kongresses für Kunstgeschichte making use of sophisticated workshop procedures
Berlin, 15-20 Juli 1992, Berlin 1993, pp. 627-630, esp. which could in part replace the share of the master’s
pp. 627-28. hand, he seems to have allowed invention and
10 Josua Bruyn et al., A Corpus of Rembrandt execution to be separated only in the early stages
Paintings, The Hague 1986, vol. 2, pp. 60-76, esp. of an assistant’s activities. Later, they would be
pp. 89 & 90. The issue itself was not new; it had also welcome to their own design and only rarely did
been discussed, for example, by Frits Lught in his they intervene with his own work.’ Bruyn,
article ‘Italiaansche kunstwerken in Nederlandsche Rembrandt’s Workshop (note 12), pp. 68-89, esp.
verzamelingen van vroeger tijden’, Oud Holland 53 pp. 83-85. Also quoted in Wheelock, Dutch
(1936), pp. 97-135, esp. pp. 110-112 and by Albert Paintings of the Seventeenth Century, (note 12),
Blankert in his monograph on Ferdinand Bol. See p. 209; Bruyn et al., A Corpus of Rembrandt
Albert Blankert, Ferdinand Bol: 1616-1680: een Paintings (note 10), vol. 2, pp. 49-90. Ernst van de
leerling van Rembrandt, Ph.D. Dissertation Wetering et al., A Corpus of Rembrandt Paintings,
University Utrecht 1976, pp. 14 and 18. Dordrecht 2005, vol. 4, ‘Preface’, p. XXII. See also
11 Svetlana Alpers, Rembrandt’s Enterprise: Tine Nygaard, Rembrandt? The Master and his
The Studio and the Market, Chicago 1988. On Workshop, Copenhagen (Statens Museum for
Rembrandt’s marketing abilities, see also Marten Kunst) 2005 (exh. brochure), p. 39: ‘we tend towards
Jan Bok, ‘Rembrandt’s Fame and Rembrandt’s the view that in general, Rembrandt distinguished
Failure. The Market for History Paintings in the quite sharply between works by himself and those
Dutch Republic’, in: Proceedings of the done by his students – in terms of price, too. We
International symposium Rembrandt and Dutch imagine that Rembrandt, the pupils at his workshop,
History Painting in the 17th Century. Tokyo, 13-14 and the customers all knew who painted what, and
September 2003, Tokyo 2004, pp. 159-178. that the prices were set accordingly. Rembrandt’s
12 Alpers, Rembrandt’s enterprise (note 11), signature was a brand name for the students, and
pp. 69 and 143 (note 24). Alpers refers in this for that reason it sometimes appears on works
context to a statement by Houbraken that Flinck’s done by pupils. This does not, however, make such
work was sold under Rembrandt’s name. In 1991, works forgeries.’
Josua Bruyn pointed out that quite a few works 19 Wheelock refers to several primary sources
listed as being by Rembrandt in the artist’s which mention pictures that were ‘geretukeert’
inventory of 1656 appear to be studio works, see (retouched) by Rembrandt, including his 1656
Josua Bruijn, ‘Rembrandt’s Workshop: Its Function inventory which also mentions one painting which
and Production’, in: Rembrandt, the Master & his was ‘gemodelt’ (designed) by Rembrandt. Athur
Workshop, Berlin, Amsterdam and London 1991 Wheelock ‘Issues of Attribution in the Rembrandt
(exh. cat.), pp. 68-89, esp. pp. 70-71; see also Arthur Workshop’, in: Wheelock Dutch Paintings of the
Wheelock, Dutch Paintings of the Seventeenth Seventeenth Century (note 12), pp. 205-210, esp.
Century: The Collections of the National Gallery of p. 207.
Art Systematic Catalogue, Washington, D.C. 20 Walter Liedtke, ‘Rembrandt’s ‘Workshop’
(National Gallery of Art) 1995 (coll. cat.), pp. 208 Revisited’, Oud Holland 117 (2004), pp. 48-73, esp.
and 209 (note 27). p. 57.
13 Alpers, Rembrandt’s enterprise (note 11), 21 Grimm suspected that there was no reason to
p. 122. believe that seventeenth-century masters created a
core oeuvre of entirely autograph pictures, which agent in Florence: Giovanni Borromeo. See
led him to say that if the opposite could be proven Alessandro Luzio, La Galleria dei Gonzaga venduta
to be more probable, most monographic studies of all’Inghilterra nel 1627-28, Rome 1974 [1913],
old masters would have to be re-edited, now with pp. 246-247.
the dual purpose of both establishing the output of 31 See William W. Robinson, ‘“This Passion for
the old master’s workshop, and of analysing the Prints”: Collecting and Connoisseurship in Northern
share of the master himself in the workshop Europe during the Seventeenth Century’, in:
production, see Grimm, Die Frage (note 16), p. 643. Clifford S. Ackley (ed.), Printmaking in the Age of
22 Jaap van der Veen, ‘By His Own Hand, The Rembrandt, Boston and St. Louis 1981 (exh. cat.),
Valuation of Autograph Paintings in the pp. xxvii-lviii, esp. p. xxxiv ff.
Seventeenth-Century’, in: Van de Wetering et al., 32 On the different ways of signing, see also
A Corpus of Rembrandt Paintings (note 18), vol. 4, below. Rembrandt seems to have signed 90
pp. 1-41. percent of the works he is believed to have
23 Van der Veen, By His Own Hand (note 22), produced between 1632 and 1642; by comparison,
docs. 2, 3, 5, 6, 8, 9, 10, 14, 16, 17, 21, 22, 25, 27, 31, Raphael signed only 14 of the 156 paintings that he
33, 34, 35, 36. is believed to have produced. See Jensen Adams,
24 Ibid. (note 22), p. 2. See also below, p. 38. Rembrandt f[ecit] (note 28), p. 581.
25 Ibid.(note 22), docs. 1, 4, 5, 19, 20, 22. (dated 33 Translation taken from Giorgio Vasari, The
respectively: 1606, 1615, 1616, 1653, 1649 [sic], and Lives of the Artists, ed. by J.M. Dent, London 1966
1658) [1963], p. 110.
26 See Ibid. (note 22), esp. pp. 2, 3, 8, 14, and 28. 34 The Portrait of Giovanna of Aragon was later
On the meaning of the term ‘origineel’ see also transferred to canvas.
below, pp. 39-40. 35 ‘Waer in hy dan maer een groof faut bedrijvet,
27 The first scholar to analyse these phrases was / Soo hy sich self daer onder niet en schrijvet /
Charles Seymour. See Richard Spear, ‘Notes on Als principael: want hebben sy dit Beeldt, / Elck
Renaissance and Baroque Originals and Originality’, nae sijn macht, verciert end’ bejuweelt, /
in: Kathleen Preciado (ed.), Retaining the Original: D’een met een ringh, en d’ander met een keten, /
Multiple Originals, Copies, and Reproductions, Dees met een bagg’, en die, ist wel te weten / Met
Washington National Gallery of Art Studies in the wat ghesteent: soo heeft van Mander haer /
History of Art. 20 (1989), p. 98; and Richard Spear, Versorght een Croon van enckel peerlen claer.’ Ode,
The “Divine” Guido: Religion, Sex, Money and Art op het Schilder-Boeck van den Const-rijcken Carel
in the World of Guido Reni, New Haven 1997, esp. van Mander, by: A.V.M.; See Karel van Mander, Het
‘Di Sua Mano’, pp. 253-274. Schilder-Boeck, Haarlem 1604, fol. *7r.
28 While Michelangelo, Raphael and Titian 36 Jensen Adams, Rembrandt f[ecit] (note 28),
(predominantly) signed their works using their full p. 590; Nygaard, Rembrandt? (note 18); Koenraad
names, they were known by their first names. Jonckheere in his essay in this volume. Catherine
Rembrandt signed most consistently using just his Scallen uses the term ‘trademark’ in her book
first name from the early 1630s onwards. Ann Rembrandt, Reputation, and the Practice of
Jensen Adams gives a good overview of the Connoisseurship, Amsterdam 2004, p. 327 and note
development of signatures and their cultural 10, p. 380.
historical implications, see Ann Jensen Adams, 37 Placing one’s signature onto a painting could
‘Rembrandt f[ecit]. The Italic Signature and the even be considered a means of appropriating a
Commodification of Artistic Identity’, in: Thomas work from another master. Witness a remarkable
W. Gaetgens (ed.), Künstlerischer Austauch / Artistic incident in Hasselt, Overijssel: When the nowadays
Exchange, Akten des XXVIII. Internationalen little-known painter Adam van de Plancke painted
Kongresses für Kunstgeschichte Berlin, 15-20. Juli the picture The Judgement of Count Willem de
1992, Berlin 1993, pp. 581-594. Goede for the Hasselt town hall, the local painter’s
29 ‘Qualche istoria o fabula antiqua aut de suo guild filed a complaint because Van der Plancke
inuentione ne finga una che rapresenti cosa antiqua was not a member of the guild and thus had no
e de bello significato.’ Letter dated 28 June 1501, right to receive the commission from the city. The
State Archive of Mantua, Copia lettere Isab., Busta issue was resolved by having a local painter sign
2993, letter 188. See J. M. Fletcher, ‘Isabella d’Este the work and municipal authorities paid the guild a
and Giovanni Bellini’s “Presepio”’, The Burlington fine, see J. Verbeek, ‘De beeldende kunst in
Magazine, 113, 825 (1971), pp. 703-713. Overijssel’, in: Geschiedenis van Overijssel,
30 ‘una cosa fatta di mano sua o sia di sculptura Deventer 1970, p. 339.
o di pittura ... Et se per caso vi dimandasse che 38 Elisabeth Honig, ‘The Beholder as Work of Art:
subietto voressimo, gli direti che non cercamo ne A Study in the Location of Value in Seventeenth-
desideramo se non un’opera dell’ingegno suo ... Century Flemish Painting’, Nederlands
un exempio della sua singularissima virtù.’ Federico Kunsthistorisch Jaarboek 46 (1995), pp. 253-297,
Gonzaga stipulated his request in a letter to his esp. pp. 294-295.
39 J. Michael Montias, Artists and Artisans in Delft: 45 In the 1687 inventory of the art dealer
A socio-economic Study of the Seventeenth Century, Hendrick Meyeringh we find for example ‘133.
Princeton 1983, pp. 218, 227 and 247-258; J. Michael Een stuckje van de discipulen van Sonjé’, Bredius,
Montias, Vermeer and his Milieu, A Web of Social Künstler-Inventare (note 44), vol. 1, p. 340.
History, Princeton 1989, p. 245 ; In Dordrecht, artists’ 46 See Neil De Marchi and Hans Van Miegroet,
names appeared mostly in inventories from the ‘Pricing Invention: “Originals”, “Copies”, and their
1650s and later; however, many notarial deeds have Relative Value in Seventeenth Century
gone missing, see John Loughman, ‘Een stad en Netherlandish Art Markets’, in Victor Ginsburgh and
haar kunstconsumptie: openbare en privé- P.-M. Menger (eds.), Recent Contributions to the
verzamelingen in Dordrecht’, in: De Zichtbaere Economics of the Arts, Amsterdam 1996, pp. 27-70.
Werelt, Dordrecht (Dordrechts Museum) 1992 (exh. 47 Marion Boers-Goosens, ‘De
cat.), pp. 34-64, esp. pp. 45-46; Van der Veen, By His schilderijenverzameling van baron Willem Vincent
Own Hand (note 22), pp. 4 and 15ff. By contrast, a van Wyttenhorst’, Oud Holland 117(2004), pp.
recent analysis of inventories from the province of 181-243, p. 217, nos. 37 & 38. Wyttenhorst also
Friesland shows a relatively large share of cheap mentions a copy after Poelenburch by a certain
pictures and relatively little interest in painters’ Steenbergen, which was subsequently reworked by
names; presumably, connoisseurship was Poelenburch himself. He specifies that he paid
concentrated in large urban centres. See Piet Bakker, Steenbergen 36 guilders and Poelenburch 100
Gezicht op Leeuwarden. Schilders in Friesland en de guilders for this piece, which makes the picture
markt voor schilderijen in de Gouden Eeuw, Ph.D. more expensive than many an original by
Dissertation University of Amsterdam 2008. Poelenburch. See ibid. p. 217, no. 152.
40 Willemijn Fock, ‘Kunstbezit in Leiden in de 48 Bredius, Künstler-Inventare (note 44), vol. 1,
17de eeuw’, in: Th.H. Lunsingh Scheurleer et al. pp. 54-55. This document also mentions a painting
(eds.), Het Rapenburg. Geschiedenis van een Leidse in the manner of Berchem by Van der Meer. ‘Een
gracht, Leiden 1990, vol.Va, pp. 3-36, esp. p. 5. Fock’s Capitaal stuk van van der meer (in) den aert van
analysis is based on a random sample of ten Berghem met menschen, beesten en lantschap’.
collectors inventories per decennium. 49 See above, p. 36.
41 Montias assumed that the expertise of notaries 50 Eric Jan Sluijter kindly informed me that the
varied considerably. Jaap van der Veen questions term ‘origineel’ was mostly used in the Southern
how much the inventories reflect the knowledge of Netherlands.
the notaries that often composed them, as these 51 Junius, The Painting of the Ancients (note 2),
notaries may have profited from existing inventory pp. 305-306. In the Dutch version: ‘... plagten de
lists, from knowing the owner of the works and from meeste haerer Konst-kennisse daer in
signatures and monograms on the pictures (which voornaemelick te bewijsen, datse d’originelen
are sometimes literally transcribed). Van der Veen, staend-voets van de copijen weten
By His Own Hand (note 22), p. 16 esp. note 82. See t’onderscheyden. ‘d’Oorspronckelicke wercken die
also J. Michael Montias, ‘Review: De wereld binnen de treffelicke Meesters nae ’t leven selver ghemaect
handbereik: Nederlandse kunsten hebben, worden alhier door den naam van orginele
rariteitenverzamelingen. 1585-1735, Simiolus 22 stucken te verstaen ghegeven’; quoted in Van der
(1993), pp. 99-105, esp. p. 103, note 16. Veen, By His Own Hand (note 22), p. 2.
42 See Eric Jan Sluijter, All striving to adorne their 52 Lydia de Pauw-de Veen, De begrippen
houses with costly peeces. Two Case Studies of ‘schilder’, ‘schilderij’ en ‘schilderen’ in de
Paintings in Wealthy Interiors’, in: Mariët zeventiende eeuw, Brussels 1969, pp. 107-111.
Westermann (ed.), Art & Home, Dutch Interiors in 53 The attributions and taxations in this inventory
the Golden Age, Zwolle and Denver 2001, are done by the painter Ferdinand Bol and the
pp. 102-127, esp. p. 119. dealer Gerrit Uylenburgh, see Bredius, Künstler-
43 Given the large amount of surviving inventories Inventare (note 44), vol. 1, p. 425. See, for another
and the many variables regarding the circumstances example, also note 45 above.
in which the inventories were compiled, an in-depth 54 ‘dat is van mij niet, maer van een van mijn
quantitative analysis requires a separate study. slechtste discupels, ick beclaeg je, u bent
However, a number of general conclusions regarding bedrogen. Broekman heeft het van mij gecocht
the terms that did and did not exist and the voor vijff guldens en ick wil dat voor mijn schilderij
frequency with which terms were used, can already niet laten gaen’. Oud-Holland 9 (1891), p. 148-149;
be drawn, see below. Van der Veen, By His Own Hand (note 22), doc. 28
44 A. Bredius, Künstler-Inventare: Urkunden zur (dated 1676).
Geschichte der Holländischen Kunst des XVIten, 55 ‘Verclaert Jacob van Ruisdael, dat bij aldien
XVIIten und XVIIIten Jahrhunderts, The Hague 1915- den voorsz. Parcellus het voorsz. stuck schilderije
1921, vol. 1 [1915], pp. 258-259; Sluijter, All striving begonnen heeft, dat hij oordeelt hetselve
to adorne their houses (note 43), tegenwoordig sodanich is toegestelt, dat het
pp. 102-127, esp. p. 119. onbequam is om voor een stuck van Parcellus
gelevert [te worden].’ Oud-Holland 6 (1888), 27, 28, 33, 295 & 301; for another early mention of a
pp. 21-24; Van der Veen, By His Own Hand (note 22), retouched Rembrandt, see Jaap van der Veen,
doc. 24. ‘Onbekende opdrachtgevers van Rembrandt.
56 ‘Verclaren sij getuygen noch al t’samen Jacomo Borchgraeff en Maria van Uffelen en hun
t’oordelen dat dienvolgende het voorsz. stuck portretten door Rembrandt, Jonson van Ceulen,
schilderij niet waerdich is voor een stuck van Van Zijl, Van Mol en Jacob Backer’, Kroniek van het
Parcellus gecocht en gelevert te werden.’ Ibid. Rembrandthuis 1998, pp. 14-31. Two pictures
(note 55). carrying inscriptions that they were retouched by
57 ‘... well ende curieuslijck ten deele zelffs te Rembrandt, seem to indicate that such works were
schilderen ende ten deele door andere, sooals het indeed quite different from pictures worthy of
bequamst door hem Jordaens goet gevonden sal carrying the master’s name: Head of a Boy,
worden. Ende ‘t gene door andere geschildert sal Amsterdam Rijksmuseum, Inv. no. A2391 (the now
wesen blijft hij gehouden zoo te overschilderen, dat illegible inscription was once read as ‘Rembrandt
het voor zijn signors Jordaens eygen werck geretuceer ... [naar?] Lieve.. [i.e.: Lievens]’) and
gehouden sal worden ende oversulckx zijnen naem The Sacrifice of Isaac, Alte Pinakothek, Munich
ende teeckininge daer onder stellen.’, Antwerp, [inscribed: ‘Rembrandt. verandert. En over
City Archives, not. H. van Cantelbeck Jr, NA 3399, geschildert’]. Admittedly, the attribution of both
dd. 21 April 1648; F.J. Van den Branden, these pictures remains an issue of debate and no
Geschiedenis der Antwerpsche schilderschool, works sold as by a ‘pupil’ in the seventeenth
Antwerp 1883, p. 828; R.-A. d’Hulst, Jacob Jordaens, century have been definitively identified. However,
Antwerp 1982, p. 30. Van der Veen, By His Own if these works are in any way illustrative, the quality
Hand (note 22), p. 14. Jordaens explained his of ‘pupil work’ must have been rather poor. In fact,
workshop practice also himself in similar terms. See these works look so little like accepted Rembrandts
Van der Veen, By His Own Hand (note 22), pp. 13 that some scholars doubted whether Rembrandt
and 14 (note 67); M. Rooses, Jordaens’ leven en had touched them at all. See Josua Bruyn et al.,
werken, Amsterdam 1906, p. 139. Since Jaap van A Corpus of Rembrandt Paintings, The Hague 1989,
der Veen assumes that well-to-do buyers had a vol 3, no. A 108; Christian L. Tümpel et al., Het
preference for autograph paintings, he believes Oude Testament in de schilderkunst van de
that Jordaens’ workshop practice may have been Gouden Eeuw, Amsterdam (Joods Historisch
shocking to the buyers. However, the documents Museum) 1991 (exh. cat.), cat. no. 9; Martin
give no reason for this assumption; on the contrary, Royalton-Kisch, ‘Rembrandt’s sketches for his
the statement that Jordaens himself could judge paintings’, Master Drawings 27 (1989), pp. 128-145;
most aptly how to use his assistants, indicates that Hubert von Sonnenburg reputedly recognised
the patron had faith in Jordaens’ judgement and retouches in the Munich painting. See Van der Veen,
the resulting quality of the work. By His Own Hand (note 22), p. 25 and note 136.
58 ‘... sullen vor hem Van Vuchts werck mogen 63 See Ronald de Jager, ‘Meester, leerjongen,
passeeren, te weten soodaenich als hij aen hem leertijd. Een anlyse van zeventiende-eeuwse Noord-
Van Waesberge voor desen heeft gelevert ende Nederlandse leerlingencontracten van
met sijn eygen hant geteeckent’, p. Haverkorn van kunstschilders, gouden zilversmeden’, Oud
Rijsewijk, ‘Johannes van Vucht’, Oud Holland 9 Holland 37 (1999), pp. 215-222. See also Marion
(1891), pp. 39-51, esp. p. 43. See also Van der Veen, Goossens, Schilders en de markt. Haarlem
By His Own Hand (note 22), p. 13. 1605-1635, PhD Dissertation University of Leiden
59 ‘... et y mettre la dernier main, en sorte que 2001, pp. 69-81, esp. pp. 77-79.
l’on puisse dire avec vérité que tout cet ouvrage 64 Fr.D.O. Obreen (ed.), Archief voor
sera de vous.’ Letter from Colbert to Bernini, Nederlandsche Kunstgeschiedenis, Rotterdam
9 December 1669, cited in: Rudolf Wittkower, ‘The 1877-1878, vol. 1, pp.222-293, esp. stipulations 3,
Vicissitudes of a Dynastic Monument. Bernini’s pp. 239-240 and 6, pp.243-244.
Equestrian Statue of Louis XIV’, in: Millard Meiss 65 Goossens, Schilders en de markt (note 63),
(ed.), De Artibus Opuscula XL, Essays in Honor of pp. 89-90.
Erwin Panofsky, New York 1961, pp. 497-531, esp. 66 Ibid. (note 63), p. 73.
p. 521 (doc. 23). See also Spear, Notes on 67 ‘Dat daerop bij de voorsz. requirant [Dogger]
Renaissance and Baroque Originals and Originality werden gepersisteert dat de voorsz. Van Aelst het
(note 27), p. 98. immers hadde geschildert ende bij contrarie niet
60 See below, p. 43. soude vertonen, daerbij voegde dat desselfs, Van
61 M. Rooses and C.L. Ruelens, Correspondance Aelst’ naem onder de voorsz. schilderij was staende.
de Rubens et documents épistolaires concernant sa Sijluyden metten anderen alsoo daerop wedden,
vie et ses œuvres, vol. 2, p. 149 (letter CLXVIII): ‘... namentl. dat de voorsz. Pic seyde te sullen
copie en ritocci … luçono piu per il lor prezzo’. vertonen, dat het voorsz. stucje schilderij bij de
62 Walter L. Strauss et. al., The Rembrandt voorsz. Aelst niet en was geschildert, nog geen
Documents, New York 1979, doc. 1656/12, nos 25, handen daeraen gehadt hadde [...]
niettegenstaende den deposant Bronchorst hem 14); Van de Wetering, The Search for the Master’s
Pic voor de voorsz. weddinge de naem van de Hand (note 9), p. 628; Van der Veen, By His Own
voorn. Van Aelst hadde vertoont, alsoo de voorsz. Hand (note 22), p, 7.
Pic seyde: ‘daer is niet aen gelegen al staet de 77 ‘Ho preso secondo il mio solito un
naem daeronder, hij heeft ‘t selve evenwel niet valenthuomo nel suo mestiere a finere li paesaggi
gemaect’.’ See Abraham Bredius, ‘Drie Delftsche solo per augmentar il gusto di V.E. ma nel resto la sia
schilders: Evert van Aelst, Pieter Jansz. van Asch, en sicura ch’io non ho permesso animo vivente vi metta
Adam Pick’, Oud-Holland 6 (1888), pp. 289-298, esp. la mano’, see Rubens’s letter dated 28 May 1618 in
290-291; Van der Veen, By His Own Hand (note 22), Rosenberg, Rubensbriefe (note 72), p. 49.
doc. 15. 78 Rosenberg, Rubensbriefe (note 72), p. 46; see
68 Ibid. (note 22), docs. 1, 4, 19, and 22. Two also p. 45 where Rubens explains that the works he
other documents simply state that certain pictures had described are not ‘simple copies’ and refers to
were done ‘by the own hands’ of respectively the price as an indication of their quality.
Hendrick van Steenwijck and Pouwels [Paulus] Bril 79 Interestingly, she also noticed strong
(docs. 5 and 20, dated repectively 1617 and 1649). differences in execution between the two works
First publication of these documents: Oud-Holland signed with simply Honthorst’s name. See Jolanda
34 (1916), pp. 161-162 (doc. 1); L.J. Bol, The de Bruijn, Honthorst fecit (?) : een onderzoek naar de
Bosschaert Dynasty. Painters of Flowers and Fruit, atelierpraktijk van Gerard van Honthorst (1592-1656),
Leigh-on-Sea 1960, pp. 27-28 (doc. 4); Van der Veen, MA thesis (unpublished) University of Amsterdam
By His Own Hand (note 22) (doc. 5); Bredius, 2001, p. 63-111. While De Bruijn believed the
Künstler-Inventare (note 44), I, p. 15 (doc. 19); ‘Honthorst fec[it]’-signature indicated entirely
Abraham Bredius, ‘Kunstkritiek der XVIIe eeuw’, autograph works, more recent research of his
Oud-Holland 7 (1889), pp. 41-44 (doc. 20); Bredius, paintings in the Oranjezaal makes this very unlikely,
Künstler-Inventare (note 44), II, pp. 401-402 (doc. 22). see the entries on the six paintings by Van Honthorst
69 ‘Hendrick van Leeuwen belooffde te leveren by Margriet van Eikema-Hommes, Lidwien Speleers
voor principaele stukken [...] endee gemaeckt te and Jolanda de Bruijn, and the chapter The painting
sijn ‘t eene van Bloemaert tot Utrecht ende ‘t ander technique of the twelve painters in the Oranjezaal,
van Coninxloo, sonder ymanden anders als by Margriet van Eikema Hommes and Lidwien
d’voorsz. twee meesters aen de voorsz. twee Speleers, in the forthcoming book on the Oranjezaal,
stucken hebben gearbeyt’. edited by the Netherlands Institute for Art History
70 ‘een blompot [...] met sijn eygen hant (RKD), The Hague 2010.
gemaect heeft, sonder datter yemant anders de 80 J. Richard Judson and Rudolf E.O. Ekkart,
hant aen gehadt ofte gewerct heeft.’ Gerrit van Honthorst, 1592-1656, Doornspijk 1999.
71 ‘sonder dat bij ymant anders daeraen iets is Marten Jan Bok kindly informed me that Hendrick
gedaen.’ Terbrugghen may have also used his signature to
72 In the letter Rubens refers to all the paintings distinguish between various quality levels.
in the list as ‘delle pitture de mia mano qui da 81 Judson and Ekkart, Gerrit van Honthorst (note
basso nominate’, which means that all works 80), cat. nos. 11, 23, 76, 85, 99, 109, 120, 122, 137,
mentioned counted as by Rubens hand, as the 142, 143, 145, 171, 189, 192, 193, 208, 211, 215, 221,
master’s own work. He subsequently makes further 222, 229, 236, 240, 241, 242, 249, 253, 255, 275 and
quality distinctions. See Adolf Rosenberg (ed.), 276. Please note that not all pictures discussed in the
Rubensbriefe, Leipzig 1881, pp. 42 ff, esp. pp. 43-44. catalogue could be traced by the authors; therefore
73 The fact that Rubens does not mention this some paintings could not be properly studied.
specialist’s name (see also letter of 28 May 1618, 82 Judson and Ekkart, Gerrit van Honthorst (note
quoted below) suggests that he was not a master 80), cat. nos. 303, 307, 309, 332, 338, 401, 407, 422,
painter but rather a ‘gesel’ or paid assistant. 455, 458, 471, 495, 497 and 508. As with the history
74 Compare De Marchi and Van Miegroet, paintings and pastoral scenes, not all portraits could
Pricing Invention (note 46), pp.27-70. According to be studied in real life.
their findings copies commonly amounted to only 83 C. Pliny the Elder, Naturalis Historia, c. 77 A.D.,
half of the price of originals, even if they were Praef. 27: ‘quare plenum verecundiae illud, quod
painted by the master himself as in the case of omnia opera tamquam novissima inscripsere et
Breughel the Elder. tamquam singulis fato adempti. tria non amplius,
75 Unfortunately, one of these works, a Crucifix ut opinor, absolute traduntur inscripta ILLE FECIT,
described by Rubens as ‘perhaps the best thing I quae suis locis reddam. quo apparuit summam artis
ever made’ (forse la meglio cosa chio facessi securitatem auctori placuisse, et ob id magna invidia
giamai), turned out to be too large for Carleton’s fuere omnia ea.’
house, and he therefore removed it from his 84 Van Mander, Het Schilder-Boeck (note 35), fol.
selection. See Rosenberg, Rubensbriefe (note 72), 80r; Etienne Binet, Essay des merveilles de nature, et
p. 44. des plus nobles artifices, with an introduction by
76 De Jongh, De dikke en de dunne Hals (note Marc Fumaroli, Paris 1987 [1621], p. 353; Junius,
The Painting of the Ancients (note 2), p. 36. 91 Cornelis de Bie, Het gvlden cabinet vande
Junius also refers to Poliziano – Observationes et edel vry schilder const : inhovdende den lof vande
Emendationes – who in turn refers to Giovanni vermarste schilders, architect , beldth wers, ende
Lorenzi da Venezia, an antiquarian who states that plaetsnyders van dese eevw, Antwerp 1661, p. 164
several such formulations of completion are extant, over Gerard van Honthorst ‘Soo gheestich is sijn
see ibid., p. 44. See also Van Hoogstraten, Const ghediept en uyt ghehooght’; De Bie’s remark
Inleyding (note 94), p.320. is reminiscent of Mancini’s suggestion that
85 Roger de Piles for example distinguishes confidently applied light and dark accents in the
between the ‘character of the hand’ and the depiction of drapery can be particularly revealing;
‘character of the mind’, which one could look for in a Paul Fréart de Chantelon, Diary of the cavaliere
picture. According to one of the protagonists in his Bernini’s visit to France (1665), Anthony Blunt (ed.),
Conversations, the first approach was useful but Princeton 1985, p 251. A similar suggestion to look
rather superficial. De Piles, Conversations (note 4), particularly at the execution of hands can be found
pp. 10-11. See also my forthcoming Ph.D. in Anea Vico’s treatise on coins of 1555, see Jeffrey
Dissertation The Fingerprint of an Old Master, On Muller, ‘Measures of Authenticity: The Detection of
the Attributions of Paintings by Rembrandt, Rubens Copies in the Early Literature on Connoisseurship’,
and their Contemporaries. (University of Amsterdam in: Kathleen Preciado (ed.), Retaining the Original:
2008), for a more complete overview of the various Multiple Originals, Copies, and Reproductions,
characteristics of pictures that art theorists Washington National Gallery of Art Studies in the
considered important when attributing paintings. History of Art. 20 (1989), pp. 141-151, esp. p. 142.
86 This was not the prime purpose of Van 92 The comparison with handwriting was already
Mander’s book; in fact, the first and foremost aim much in use in early modern times, see, for
was to elevate the status of painting as a liberal art. example, Giulio Mancini, Considerazioni sulla
It was written for both young painters and art lovers. Pittura, publicato per la prima volta da Adriana
It is certainly not a manual for aspiring connoisseurs, Maracchi con il commento di Luigi Salerno
although some passages in the treatise are (Academia Nazionale dei Lincei), Rome 1956,
nonetheless very revealing in this respect. p. 134; and Abbé Du Bos, Réflexions critiques sur la
87 Van Mander, Het Schilder-Boeck (note 35), poésie et sur la painture, Paris 1993 [1719], p. 297.
fol. 212r: ‘Men siet oock in Lucas dinghen ... een 93 Junius, The Painting of the Ancients (note 2),
ander soeter eenparige handelinghe van snede, p. 310. Earlier Mancini had also stated that when
daer zijn drijvende en vloeyende lakenen soo observing a painting one should start with the main
verstandich, als constich mede zijn uytgebeeldt, als figures and only afterwards look at the less
men doet in ander van zijnen tijt, ghelijck ick achte important figures, see Mancini, Considerazioni sulla
my de verstandighe sullen toestemmen.’ Pittura (note 92), pp. 135 ff & p. 329.
88 Van Mander, Het Schilder-Boeck (note 35), 94 ‘Zeker ’t is onvermakelijk te hooren, als
fol. 223v: ‘Desen uytnemenden Holbeen hadde in somtijds onweetende, doch verwaende liefhebbers,
alle zijn wercken en handelinghe een seker het beste deel in eenich stuk willende aenwijzen,
vasticheyt in stellen, en schilderen, zijn dinghen al iets zoo gemeens uitpikken, dat by den Meester
by order aenlegghende, en op doende, veel anders schier als slapende, of ten minsten van zijn
als ander Schilders: ghelijck onder ander, waer voornaemen arbeyt rustende, gemaekt is. Deeze
baerdt oft hayr over te comen hadde, schilderde hy dingen zijn by de ouden als overmaet of toegift tot
doch volcomelijck alsoo’t te wesen hadde, de het voornaemste werk geacht geweest, en wierden
schaduwen daer in recht waernemende, en van hen Parerga genoemt; en zijn by groote
maeckte als het droogh was baerdt oft hayr seer Meesters gemeenlijk door de hand van jongers en
vloeyende en natuerlijck daer over.’ aenkomelingen, of van de geene, die daer een
89 In printmaking it was not until the early handwerk van konden, gemaekt.’ Samuel van
seventeenth century that an artist developed a Hoogstraten, Inleyding tot de hooge schoole der
keen interest in botanical accuracy; Johannes schilderkonst, anders de zichtbaere werelt: verdeelt
Brosterhuizen’s etchings of trees are the first in in negen leerwinkels, yder bestiert door eene der
which specific species can be identified. See zanggodinnen, Rotterdam 1678, p. 76.
Huijgen Leeflang, ‘Geen dromen of grillen van 95 ‘Ik zal gaerne toestaen, dat een meester in
schilders, de bomen van Johannes Brosterhuysen groote werken hulp van anderen nemen, die in
(1596-1650)’, Kunstschrift 4 (2004), pp. 24-29. bywerk geoeffent zijn: maer die met recht den
90 In the Dutch translation: ‘De Slag van bomen / naem van Meester in Historyen draegen wil, moet
Men zegt de bomen van dit Landschap zyn zeer ook raet weten, als ‘t nood doet, tot bywerk.’ Van
onderscheidentlyk getoest, of deeze Schilder slaat Hoogstraten, Inleyding tot de hooge schoole der
zeer wel zyn bomen.’ Charles Alphonse du Fresnoy, schilderkonst (note 94), p. 72.
Termes de Peinture. Konstwoorden of spreekwyzen 96 According to Hayden B. Maginnis it was
van de schilderkonst, Amsterdam 1722 [first Giovanni Morelli’s most important contribution to
published Rome, c. 1647], p. 29. connoisseurship that his emphasis on the execution
of various details made experts focus not just on into a painting. Here, in these brush-strokes and fine
the key elements but on the entire picture, see finishing touches, the true master is revealed.’
Hayden B. J. Maginnis, ‘The role of perceptual 107 ‘ils ont mesmes inventé un Jargon exprés, avec
learning in connoisseurship: Morelli, Berenson and lequel ils exagerent magnifiquement par des gestes
beyond’, Art history 13, 1 (1990), pp. 104-117. et des expressions fort amphatiques pour faire
97 Willem Goeree, Inleydinge tot de admirer, la Fraisheur et la Vaghesse du Coloris, la
al-ghemeene teycken-konst, Middelburgh 1668, Franchise du pinceau, les Touches hardies, les
p. 47. Couleurs bien empastées et bein nourries, le
98 See Eric Jan Sluijter, Seductress of Sight: Detachement des Masses, les Draperies bien jettées,
Studies in Dutch art of the Golden Age, Zwolle 2000 les beaux Plis, let Coups de Maistre, la grande
[1993], pp. 244-258; Philips Angel, Lof der Maniere, les Muscles bein ressentis, les beaux
Schilderkonst, Leiden 1642, p. 52. Contours, les belles Teintes, et la Morbidesse des
99 Van Hoogstraten, Inleyding tot de hooge Carnations, les beaux Groupes, les beux Morceaux,
schoole der schilderkonst (note 94), p. 27. et force autre autres beautez chimeriques de cette
According to Van Hoogstraten ‘connoisseurs’ nature.’ Roland Fréart de Cambray, L’Idée de la
(kenders) also very much appreciate rough sketches. Perfection de la peinture, Paris 1662, pp. 61-63, cited
100 Abraham Bosse, Sentimens sur la Distinction and translated in Donald Posner, ‘On the Mechanical
des diverses manières de peinture, dessin et Parts of Painting and the Artistic Culture of
gravure et des orginaux d’avec leurs copies, Paris Seventeenth-Century France’, The Art Bulletin 75
1649, sommaire (with explanation of different terms (1993), pp. 583-595.
used. ‘Artiste & croquée’ is explained as: roughly 108 ‘Le Peintre touche bien, c’est à dire, fait bien la
applied paint which looks unfinished from nearby carnation du nud, c’est à dire, de la face, de la main,
and has been painted with much ‘ease’ (facilité). du pied, car la reste est habillé.’ Binet, Essay des
Bosse also uses the term ‘sevelt’ for such loose Merveilles de nature (note 84), p. 364. There are
brushwork, i.e., done with a ‘strong, free and fluid many other sources which discuss the fleshtone as
brush’ (pinceau fort, libre et coolant). particularly hard to depict, see Ann-Sophie Lehmann,
101 Bosse, Sentimens sur la Distinction des Das unsichtbare Geschlecht: Studien zu einem
diverses manières de peinture (note 100), sommaire. Detail des nakcten weiblichen Körpers in der
All these terms appear in the introduction and are bildenden Kunst, PhD Dissertation University Utrecht
explained throughout the treatise. 1996; Eric Jan Sluijter, ‘Goltzius, painting and flesh,
102 ‘Le pourfil, les gestes, les symmetries et or, Why Goltzius began to paint in 1600’, in: Marieke
proportions, mines et bonnes contenances sont van den Doel et al., The Learned Eye: Regarding Art,
celles qui donnent bruit au pinceau, et le poinct Theory, and the Artist’s Reputation. Essays for Ernst
principal de tout cet Estat. Le dedans se fait van de Wetering, Amsterdam 2005, pp. 158-177.
aisément, mais le pourfil, les derniers traits et 109 See my unpublished paper ‘Rembrandt en de
l’arrondissement de la besongne est mal-aisée.’ atelierpraktijk bij het schilderen van portretten’,
Binet, Essay des Merveilles de nature (note 84), University of Amsterdam 1995.
p. 360. An explanation of what is understood by 110 See above Masterly Passages, pp.50-51.
’contenance’ can be found under no. 9 on pp. 111 See Friso Lammertse and Jaap van der Veen,
359-360: ‘Donner contenances aux Images, et Uylenburgh & Zoon, Kunst en Commercie in de Tijd
bonne mine, ouvrant la bouche, l’oeil, le ris, etc., van Rembrandt, Dulwich and Amsterdam 2006 (exh.
Peindre l’esprit, les moeurs, les passions, etc.’ cat.), esp. pp. 79-102.
103 Bosse, Sentimens sur la Distinction des 112 The one picture that was not contested and
diverses manières de peinture (note 100), p. 57. stayed with the Elector was Giuseppe de Ribera’s
104 See above p. 40 (on contracts Bernini & Executioner with the Head of Saint John the Baptist,
Jordaens). see the letter from Uylenbrugh in the Geheimes
105 On passages by Mancini and De Bie, see Staatsarchif, Berlin, 1 HA Rep. 76, Alt 111, nr. 167.
above p. 46 and 49 113 ‘deugtsaem en kunstich geschildert’; ‘datze de
106 Arnold Houbraken, De groote schouburgh der namen van de meesters daerse voor verkocht sijn
Nederlantsche konstschilders en schilderessen, waerdich sijn te dragen en van onpartijdige
Amsterdam 1718-1721, 3 vols., vol. I, p. 92. On the Italiaense kunstkenders en schilders daer voren
close connection made in art theory between behouden geestimeert ende gehouden te werden’
retouchings and the master’s recognisable quoted in Lammertse and Van der Veen, Uylenburgh
‘ingenium’, see also Spear, The “Divine” Guido (note 111), p. 85.
(note 27), p. 265-266, who quotes an evocative 114 Their opinion was shared by the painters
passage from Diálogos de la pintura (1633) by the Johanna van Aerssen van Wernhout, Caspar
painter and art theorist Vicencio Carducho: ‘after Netscher, Pieter Moninckx, Dirck Dalens, Johan von
the assistant considers his work finished, the master Sandrart, Johan Moninckx, Johan van Haensbergen,
retouches the painting again and perfects it. This is Martinus Mijtens, François van Santwijck en Daniel
the last step and refinement which breathes spirit Haringh.
115 ‘niet weerdich te sijn te draegen den naem van execution of the work, even allowing for its present
een goet meester, veel min den van soodanige condition, suggests that Holbein employed a studio
uytmuntende meesters daer deselve voor assistant extensively in the execution of this work.
uytgegeven werden’; Gemeentearchief Den Haag, Interestingly, neither van Mander nor Von Sandrart
not. P. van Swieten, NA 932, fol.295r-v. Lammertse discusses to what extent Holbein may have used
and Van der Veen, Uylenburgh (note 111), p. 87. assistance in this work when he was still alive.
116 ‘niet considerabel sijnde om voor sulcken 127 Mancini, Considerazioni sulla Pittura (note 92),
meesters verocht te worden’; quoted in Lammertse p. 330.
and Van der Veen, Uylenburgh (note 111), p. 88. 128 Giorgio Vasari, Le vite de’ più eccellenti pittori,
117 Van der Veen, By His Own Hand (note 22), doc. scultori ed architettori, ed. Milanesi, Florence 1880,
17c (dated 28 April 1650): ‘Doncker [=owner] seyde vol. 5, pp. 527-531.
te sijn van den Den Uyl, waerop hij deposant 129 See p. 43 above (correspondence Rubens and
vraeghende of het van den Ouden was, alsoo hij Dudley Carleton).
deposant [=Bleker, a connoisseur] daeraen 130 ‘Den Engel is seer vreemt en cierlijck
twijffelde als zijnde niet fray genoech’. toeghemaeckt: de onderste slippen zijn purperigh,
118 ‘Verclaren sij getuygen noch al t’samen dat welcke ghedaen zijn van Iacob Rauwaert, die op die
dienvolgende het voorsz. stuck schilderij niet tijdt by hem woonde, also ick hem wel heb hooren
waerdich is voor een stuck van Parcellus vercocht verhalen.’ Van Mander, Het Schilder-Boeck (note 35),
en gelevert te werden.’ Oud-Holland 6 (1888), pp. fol. 246r.
21-24; Van der Veen, By His Own Hand (note 131 Honig, The Spectator as a Work of Art (note
22), doc. 24 (dated 9 June 1661). 38), pp. 294-295; on the difference between the
119 Although many Italian pictures were sold in Nothern and the Southern Netherlands see also
the Netherlands and collectors also owned more p. 285, notes 14 and 15.
Italian pictures than can nowadays be found in the 132 Occasionally other types of collaborations are
Netherlands. It is often too easily assumed that mentioned. For example, the inventory of the art
there was little knowledge of Italian art in the dealer Johannes de Renialme lists a picture that
Netherlands, I think. was by Rembrandt and Dou, see Bredius, Künstler-
120 ‘un bon portrait de femme du maistre qui a Inventare (note 44), vol. 1, p. 235.
fait les deux figures auprès dune table, qu’a Mr. van 133 Willem Goeree, Inleydingh tot de practijck der
Ommeren’; see Constantijn Huygens, Journaal van al-gemeene schilder-konst, Amsterdam 1697 [1670],
Constantijn Huygens,den zoon, Utrecht 1876-1888, p. 100. Earlier in 1628, Jacques de Ville had stated
Vol. III, p. 35-38. See also Lammertse and Van der that those artists which could both paint
Veen, Uylenburgh (note 111), p. 81. architectural perspectives and were able to depict
121 Moreover, the inventory of the Leiden figures proportionately (and thus did not need
collector Hendrick Bugge van Ring, drawn up others to do this for them), deserved ‘double
during his lifetime, mentions two pictures by ‘a honour’. Jacques de Ville, T’Samen-spreekinghe
good Brabant master’ (een goet Brabants meester). betreffende de architecture ende Schilderkonst,
See Sluijter, All striving to adorne their houses (note Gouda 1628, p. 13. On the term ‘houding’, see Paul
42), pp. 102-127, esp. p. 119. Taylor, ‘The Concept of Houding in Dutch Art
122 Van Mander, Het Schilder-Boeck (note 35), fol. Theory’, Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld
222r: ‘Het zijn eenighe die meenen, dat dit werck Institutes 55 (1992), pp. 210-232.
by Holbeen self niet gheheel voldaen en is: maer 134 Max Rooses and Charles Louis Ruelens (eds.),
dat nae zijn doot, het ghene daer noch aen Correspondance de Rubens et documents
ghebrack van yemandt anders voleyndight soude épistolaires concernant sa vie et ses oeuvres, 6 vols.,
wesen: doch indient soo waer, heeft den opmaker Antwerp 1887-1909, II, doc. CXLVIII, p. 99. See also
den Holbeens handelinghe soo verstandigh connen Honig, The Spectator as a Work of Art (note 38),
volghen, dat het geen Schilder noch Const- p. 283. I would like to thank Ariane van Suchtelen
verstandighe van verscheyden handen en souden for bringing this passage to my attention.
oordeelen.’ 135 Rosenberg, Rubensbriefe (note 72), pp. 42-44
123 Joachim von Sandrart, Teutsche Academie der (letter 28 April 1618).
Bau-, Bild- und Mahlerey-Künste, Nurnberg 136 See above p. 43.
1675-1680 [reprint Nördlingen 1994], vol. 1, p.250. 137 Peter C. Sutton, The Age of Rubens, Boston
124 Von Sandrart states that if indeed part of the and Ghent 1993 (exh. cat.), pp. 238-241 (cat. no. 10).
picture was completed after Holbein’s death, this
part is done so well that it is hard distinguish, see
previous note.
125 John Rowlands, The Paintings of Hans Holbein
the Younger: Complete Edition, Oxford 1985,
pp. 148-149 (cat. no. 78).
126 In fact, John Rowlands thought that the
68 K OE NR AAD J ONC K H E E R E
Chapter 2
Koenraad Jonckheere
Supply and Demand:

Some Notes on the Economy
of Seventeenth Century
Connoisseurship*
Introduction
A while ago, a large auction house contacted me about a sixteenth-century painting.

They could not find the proper attribution. I suggested the name Huybrecht Beucke-
leer, explaining that he was the son in law of Willem Key and the brother of Joachim.
I could not be certain since little is known about this scion of the Beuckeleer family,
and I therefore suggested that they should, at the very least, add a question mark after
his name. The people at the auction house were appreciative of my suggestions, yet
informed me that they were planning to call the painting ‘Circle of Willem Key’, add-
ing that they assumed I would probably disagree. The painting had nothing to do with
Willem Key’s known oeuvre, but the auction house considered it wiser to use the more
familiar name, and since I suggested his son in law Beuckeleer, the qualification ‘cir-
cle of Willem Key’ was, according to them, not completely inaccurate. This incident
made me wonder about the economy of connoisseurship and the opposing interests
of art dealers, art collectors and independent connoisseurs.
Connoisseurship on the art market is a pragmatic kind of connoisseurship, where
the economic rule of supply and demand has a great impact. Scholars, normally, do
not have to worry about such issues. Over the past few decades, they have illustrated in
detail how complex an attribution can be (see also Anna Tummers’ essay above).1
Scholars today are familiar with the difficulties of attributing and, in general, tend to
be very cautious. The art market does not always follow the trend.2
But how did seventeenth-century connoisseurs, active in the art market, deal with
painters’ names and attributions? Did they differentiate between a copy, a workshop
copy and a ‘principaal’?3 How important was authenticity for them? Money was at
stake in the art market and the connoisseurship of art buyers might have been much
more pragmatic than that of art theorists. The independent connoisseurship of writ-
ers such as De Piles or Richardson, whose ideas shaped our notion of seventeenth- and
early eighteenth-century connoisseurship, was of a more theoretical nature.4
In this article, I would like to look at the complexity of attributions on the art mar-
ket in the late seventeenth- and early eighteenth-century Netherlands. In doing so,
I will not focus on descriptive sources such as Van Mander, De Bie or Houbraken, nor
the writings of De Piles or Richardson, but on auction catalogues, probate inventories
and other source material, such as letters, instead.5 Let me clarify that goal. What I
would like to do first is to investigate whether attributions in, for instance, auction
catalogues are trustworthy and secondly to find out if it is possible to determine the
value of such an attribution. In other words, are the names that are mentioned in late
seventeenth-century and early eighteenth-century auction catalogues precise attribu-
tions, are they intended to be accurate, and is it possible to agree on a method that can
help us determine the significance of such old ‘attributions’? How complex is the
behaviour of the auctioneer concerning attributions around 1700 and how often were
these correct? In the second part of this article, I would like to analyse what the con-
cerns of amateurs in the upper segment of the market were and how they made use of
these auction catalogues. Did they pay much attention to authorship and did they take
the attributions of the brokers-auctioneers for granted?6
In this article I will argue that the key to understanding attributions on the seven-
teenth-century Dutch art market, depends on making a differentiation between the
connoisseurship of an art dealer, broker or auctioneer and the connoisseurship of an
amateur in the arts.7 These two groups, art dealers-connoisseurs and amateurs-con-
noisseurs, active in either the supply or demand side of the market, had conflicting
interests and their ‘connoisseurship’ was, in my view, based on opposing principles.
A division will thus make it possible to gain a better understanding of attributions by
both art dealer-connoisseurs and collector-connoisseurs at the top end of the art
market in the seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries.8
Art dealers and art lovers: A tense relation
The relation between art dealers-auctioneers and amateurs of the arts around 1700
was a tense one. Most art lovers or liefhebbers, as they were called, were not fond of
auctioneers or art dealers. They often considered their attributions as implausible or
incredible and took every chance they had to confront dealers.9 In his unpublished
book manuscript on art dealers (1730), the famous painter-writer Jacob Campo
Weyerman, for instance, opened with an old Dutch saying: ‘Every time God offers the
world a merchant, the devil gives the world a broker’.10 This proverb was referring to
Jan Pietersz. Zomer and his colleagues. A few pages later Weyerman noted that ‘a wise
connoisseur would laugh himself to death if he ever heard how art dealers summed up
the names of artists’.11 He believed that the main concern of art dealers was making
money, and not enjoying the intellectual pleasure of art. In the words of Weyerman, a
good collector-connoisseur was never impressed by an art dealer or auctioneer’s attri-
butions. He made his own calls. Weyerman was not the only one who doubted the
competence of art dealers and auctioneers. The gentleman-dealer Pieter de la Court,
for instance, wrote Tsar Peter the Great to recommend him not to get involved with
them.12 He further advised the Tsar to have his own agents, buy at the auctions of hon-
ourable collectors, and not allow art dealers to interfere; because at least a painting in
a respectable amateur’s collection was bound to be an original. He, the famous collec-
tor Jan van Beuningen, in turn, did not value his obliged collaboration with Jan
Pietersz. Zomer whom Van Beuningen accused of fraud and greed13. Jan Goeree, a well-
known connoisseur, even published a poem attacking Jan Pietersz. Zomer: ‘Dit is Jan
Piet de makelaar, in de kunst een kakelaar’ (This is Jan Piet the broker, in the arts he is a
joker) or ‘Hier onder leyt Jan Knorrepot, Weleêr bygenaamd Zomer’ (Here lies Jan Moan-
er, formerly known as Zomer).14
Throughout his manuscript on art dealers, Weyerman makes a clear distinction
between art dealers and auctioneers, on the one hand, and what he calls ‘verstandige
kunstkenners’ (wise connoisseurs) on the other.15 The wise connoisseurs were the
extremely wealthy collectors who, on occasion, sold paintings to friends, foreign princ-
es or noblemen, but profiled themselves mainly as collectors. As such, they generously
opened their collections up to other amateurs. Pieter de la Court and Jan van Beunin-
gen are famous examples. It was people like them who, in Weyerman’s eyes, were the
real connoisseurs. Yet, they too had to make their purchases at auctions, which
became one of the most important retail venues in the Netherlands in the seventeenth
and eighteenth centuries. Not withstanding their apathy, wealthy amateurs systemati-
cally made use of art dealers to buy for them at the auctions or consummate deals with
other art collectors. Art dealers often functioned as the agents of affluent collectors16
and thus it is important to keep in mind the love-hate relationship between art deal-
ers-brokers and the wealthy arts amateurs while reading the following section. It is
equally important to remember that I am only discussing the top end of the art market
here.
Part I. Supply: The Connoisseurship of Auctioneers
Introduction: Old Master names
We often do not realise how complex the implications of a painter’s name can be (see
also pp. 31-66 above, essay Anna Tummers). Before focussing on the behaviour of art
dealer-auctioneers concerning attributions, it is important to sum up a few remarks
concerning painter names. This should allow us to gain a better understanding of the
attributions made by auctioneers, since the ways in which early modern painters used
their own names is already a very confusing topic.
I believe that sixteenth- and seventeenth-century painters often deliberately caused
confusion about their own names. Rubens, for instance, is famous for not signing his
works, presumably to avoid discussions regarding his share in the actual production
as has been suggested by Hans Van Miegroet and Neil De Marchi.17 Rubens was cer-
tainly not the only one to have mystified the details of production in his workshop.
Many painters in the sixteenth- and seventeenth-centuries Netherlands played with
their own and/or their master’s (often their father’s) names. To illustrate the complex-
ity of this phenomenon, I would like to bring up another example, namely that of
Adriaen Thomasz. Key.18 This sixteenth-century painter from Antwerp had, until
recently, seldom been the subject of any studies and thus little was known about him.
He was believed to have been the cousin of the better-known artist Willem Key, who
was a friend and the counterpart of Frans Floris. Adriaen Thomasz. Key signed his
portraits and religious oeuvre with his monogram ATK or with his full name Adriaen
Thomasz. Key. Because he clearly worked in the style of Willem Key, most scholars,
until recently, believed he was both a pupil and a cousin of Willem Key. However,
although Adriaen Thomasz., as his paternal name indicated, was indeed Willem Key’s
pupil, he was no relation of Willem’s. Adriaen Thomasz. signed his work using an AT
monogram while he was still working in Willem Key’s workshop and only later on,
when he took over his master’s workshop in 1568, added the name Key to his full sig-
nature and his monogram. He thus used the name ‘Key’ to brand his art.
This unrecognised fact is quite intriguing. From an economic point of view, it is
clear that Adriaen Thomasz. and his clientele were fully aware of the fact that Willem
Key’s last name stood for a certain style and a certain material quality and that Adriaen
Thomasz. achieved the same high standards as Willem Key, since he became one of
the most successful painters of his era in Antwerp.19 The adoption of the name
worked; much to his own benefit Adriaen’s Thomasz. managed to associate himself
with the reputation of his master. Of course, applying the term Brand Name would be
very anachronistic in this case. Adriaen Thomasz. Key definitely knew nothing about
Unique Selling Propositions and other currently fashionable marketing strategies, but
he must have been aware of the fact that his master’s name offered him better oppor-
tunities in the Antwerp art market scene during the turbulent period after 1568, the
year in which Willem died and Adriaen Thomasz. took over his workshop.
Another example, of a slightly different nature, was Pieter Brueghel’s famous
exploits of using Hieronymus Bosch’s name for some of his prints. Brueghel apparent-
ly used the popularity of Bosch’s name and the typical iconography associated with it,
to sell his own prints, as Neil De Marchi and Hans Van Miegroet have argued.20 How-
ever, examples of painters who profited from the names of their successful fathers (or
brothers), and applied a similar style is much more common.21 There is, of course,
Pieter Brueghel and his son and namesake, but also artist names such as Pourbus,
Francken, Teniers, Moreelse, Pynas, Wouwerman, Van Mieris, Van der Werff, etc.22 In
fact, the list is very long. It seems reasonable to conclude that sixteenth- and seven-
teenth-century painters were well aware of using their family’s name as a brand name
and that the name of their successful father, brother or former master had economic
value, when employed as a brand name.23
The young Brueghel understood that it was better to sell paintings using his
father’s name. Both Albrecht Dürer and Peter Paul Rubens also understood the value
of their family names. Dürer found himself involved in several lawsuits against engrav-
ers such as Marcantonio Raimondi for ‘forging’ his monogram.24 Rubens in turn, dis-
cussed the value of several types of workshop products in a discussion with Sir Dudley
Carleton. Rubens also investigated using his name on prints.25 The young Frans
Pourbus explicitly referred to his father when signing his first portraits and Frans
Floris de Vriendt set up a complex method of signing paintings, differentiating explic-
itly between invenit and fecit.26 However, Floris was not as rigid as he should have been.
Certainly by the end of his life, he had signed numerous works as his own, which had
presumably been executed in their entirety by his pupils. No wonder that disputes
about the authenticity and his signature arose after his death.27
If painters deliberately caused confusion about their own names and the quality asso-
ciated with it, then how did appraisers and auctioneers handle the names and identi-
ties of painters? How did appraisers of probate inventories use these names? Should
the names they assigned to artworks be read as clear-cut attributions or do they merely
refer to production in the studio in general? To investigate that, one can look at Duver-
ger’s publication of the Antwerp probate inventories, to see, for instance, whether the
names Key, Pourbus, Francken, Brueghel, Floris, etc. appear here.28 If appraisers were
at all concerned with authenticity, both the first and last names of the masters and the
suffixes such as ‘the Older’ or ‘the Younger’ could help identify the paintings. In other
words, did seventeenth-century appraiser-connoisseurs prefer using the initials, the
first name or only the surname Brueghel, to leave unclear and open to interpretation
whether it was a ‘product’ of Pieter the Elder, Pieter the Younger, Jan the Elder, Jan
the Younger, Ambrosius or from one of their ‘studios’? Were they at all interested?
Table 1
na Pieter Brueghel de Jonge
na Pieter Brueghel de Oude
na Jan Brueghel de Jonge

na Jan Brueghel de Oude
Pieter Brueghel de Jonge
Pieter Brueghel de Oude
Brueghel Jan de Jonge
Jan Brueghel de Jonge

Jan Brueghel de Oude
na Brueghel de Jonge
na Brueghel de Oude
Ambrosius Brueghel
Brueghel de Jonge
Brueghel de Oude
Abraham Breughel
Fluwelen Brueghel
Pieter Brueghel
Jan Brueghel
na Brueghel
Brueghel
Helse
Vol. I 14 6 1 1 10 1 1
Vol. II 7 1 8 11 2
Vol. III 9 2 1 1 1
Vol. IV 20 1 1 2 3 9 2
Vol. V 19 9 1 1 1 2
Vol. VI 21 2 1 1 4 8 1 1
Vol. VII 12 5 1 1 3 3 4
Vol. VIII 23 0 2 20 2 5 2 2 1 2
Vol. IX 16 2 1 1 1 8 8 7 1
Vol. X 26 2 1 1 1
Del XI 30 1 2 13 8 2 1
Vol. XII 25 1 2 24 3
TOTAL 222 31 15 36 1 5 1 1 35 1 55 0 0 45 2 6 0 6 0 1 0
Graph 1
The results of these simple samples in graph 1 and table 1 are astonishing, when we
look at the use of the name ‘Brueghel’. ‘Brueghel’ (without first name or other specifi-
cation), was mentioned 222 times. This means that the appraiser-connoisseur – if they
were in fact connoisseurs – rarely differentiated between Pieter the Elder, Pieter the
Younger, Jan the Elder, Jan de Younger, Ambrosius, the ‘studio’ or the copyists. We all
know that there is a huge difference between, for instance, the work of Pieter the
Younger and Jan the Elder and that Brueghels were pretty much copied en masse.
Pieter Brueghel the Younger, one the most productive scions of the family, was men-
tioned only 36 times while Pieter the Elder was mentioned with his full and precise
name only once.29 As for Jan Brueghel, little differentiation was made between the
father and the son.30 The oeuvres of these two seem to have merged in seventeenth-
century Antwerp under the common name of ‘Fluwelen (Velvet) Brueghel’. This was
perpetrated even while Jan Breughel the Younger was still alive and ultimately pro-
duced as much as his father Jan the Elder. Especially interesting in this context is the
dispute in 1675 about the Brueghel painting Deluvion, published by Duverger. In the
document (18 November 1675), Matthijs Musson and Augustijn Tijssens, an art dealer
and a painter respectively, testified that a certain painting was not by Brueghel.31 Curi-
ously enough, the ‘connoisseurs’ in question did not differentiate between the several
scions of the Brueghel family and merely stated that the Deluvion was not by ‘Brueghel’.
Jaap van der Veen made this same observation in his recently published essay on
connoisseurship. He notes, for instance, that auction catalogues from seventeenth-
century Northern Netherlands often feature ‘meaningless attributions’ to artists like
‘Brueghel’, among others.32
Table 2
The data presented in Table 2 (which I based on the database discussed below) con-
firm Van der Veen’s intuition. In the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries,
auctioneers tended to not differentiate between Jan I Brueghel (the Velvet) and Jan II
Brueghel, for example. All of their landscapes be they by one or the other were labelled
‘Velvet Brueghel’. Pieter Brueghel the Elder was named only twice. It seems that the
Dutch auctioneers followed the lead of the seventeenth-century appraisers in Antwerp.
It is clear that a majority of the paintings were attributed to a broad-spectrum
‘brand name’, even if the successors or the studio produced many more works than the
founding master himself. The appraisers of the estate inventories seldom differenti-
ated between the master, the pupil, or one of the copyists. There are exceptions, but
these are rare.33
As Van der Veen correctly concludes, this fact does not allow us to conclude, how-
ever, that there was no interest at all in authenticity. But it does mean that authenticity
was not the primary concern of appraisers and that the value of a painting was not
explicitly linked to authenticity, at least not by most of the appraisers or auctioneers.
As I will argue further on, art lovers had very different interests and were more con-
cerned about authenticity.
Of course, this sample is very limited, but I believe it is exemplary although it deserves
more extensive research. That this kind of research would be fruitful, is something I
will try to articulate later on in this article, with the aid of a database of late seven-
teenth- and early eighteenth-century auction catalogues. Thus far, I hope that I have
made it clear that first of all the attitude of painters themselves and appraisers of
inventories regarding painter’s names in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries was
far more complex than one might have assumed. Secondly, authenticity does not seem
to have been the primary issue among appraisers. It seems to me that these practising
connoisseurs rarely intended to actually determine precisely who did what painting. At
least, not in their descriptions. That they seldom referred to monograms or signatures
confirms my point here, as I will discuss below.
Attributions in auction catalogues at the end of

the seventeenth century
Did broker-auctioneers in the seventeenth century, contrary to the appraisers, clearly

specify the authorship of a painting in their auction catalogues? Auctioneers were
there to make money, in contrast to an appraiser. The higher the auction bids, the larg-
er was his take.34 If an auctioneer had the chance to sell a painting as ‘autographed’ or
‘by his own hand’, would he have done so?35 Would the late seventeenth-century con-
noisseur-art dealer have been able to tell the difference between Pieter Brueghel the
Elder and the Younger, for instance, or would he have – like the appraisers – seen both
of them as Brueghels? Did the broker anticipate concern about authenticity on the
part of the buyers? To answer these questions, I used a familiar source, namely the
Gerard Hoet–Pieter Terwesten publication of auction catalogues printed in the period
1752-1768.36 I created a database of all the preserved auction catalogues of paintings
published between 1676 and 1739. For this article, I selected all of the auction cata-
logues published by Jan Pietersz. Zomer circa 1700 and then re-published by Hoet.37
Jan Pietersz. Zomer was a renowned connoisseur in early eighteenth-century
Amsterdam.38 He was the most successful organiser of auctions and a very busy
appraiser. He was thus an obvious choice to study how connoisseurs dealt with paint-
ers’ names at the end of the seventeenth century in auction catalogues. Did they use a
complex system of attributions (e.g., school of, style of, studio of, etc.) or did they
always attribute it to one painter or another, or even more generally speaking, to one
brand? The possible impact of Zomer’s behaviour concerning attributions on the
prices fetched at auction, is an issue that I will discuss later on in this article.
Firstly, did Jan Pietersz. Zomer have any knowledge of the implications of six-
teenth- and seventeenth-century painters’ names and if so, did it have any influence
on his attributions? In other words, did Jan Pietersz. Zomer, for instance, use the
name Brueghel as a generalising brand name or did he try to find out the actual accu-
rate – i.e., what we consider accurate – authorship on any occasions? Did he recognise
that one Brueghel, Rubens or Rembrandt was not the other and that attributions were
a complex and nuanced issue? The method I used to investigate the problem is rather
simple. I took all the Zomer auction catalogues, annotated with prices and standard-
ised the painter names to be able to rank them alphabetically by last name. In so
doing, I could easily determine whether Zomer was at all consistent in his use of
names (e.g. spelling.) and I could examine any nuances concerning the attributions he
may have made.39 The results were as clear as they were surprising. In the sample stud-
ied, Jan Pietersz. Zomer always attributed the painting to the ‘master’, without bother-
ing with any fine tuning. This means that all works in the manner of, for instance,
Rubens were simply called Rubens.40 Zomer generally made a distinction between, for
instance, fathers and sons if their styles were distinctly different (e.g., Pieter Brueghel
and Jan Brueghel), but not between originals, studio copies or inferior copies (e.g., Jan
Brueghel the Elder and Jan Brueghel the Younger) if they were of a similar nature. I
only found a few exceptions to this rule in all of the lots in the sample. Zomer referred
to just two paintings as ‘copies after’ out of a total of 1226, namely one after Rubens
and one after Rembrandt.41 All of the other paintings were attributed to the masters
themselves, without any reservations on the part of Zomer. This indicates that Zomer
ranked the paintings in the style of the master under the master’s brand name, with-
out questioning their actual nature (copies, style of, etc.). A consequence could have
been that Zomer sold many paintings as anonymous, but that was not the case at all.
Only 21 paintings out of the 1226 or 1.7 % were catalogued as ‘anonymous’. This seems
to indicate that Jan Pietersz. Zomer himself did not raise any questions about the
nature of the paintings. On the other hand, these stunning facts illustrate that the
practising connoisseurs like Zomer, at the end of the seventeenth century, did not dis-
tinguish between an original, a studio copy, or a work by a student. At least, Zomer did
not make these distinctions in his auction catalogues.42 Nonetheless, Zomer was con-
sidered one of the best – if not the best – of Amsterdam’s connoisseurs.
Even more stunning is the fact that Zomer never mentioned monograms or signa-
tures, even though many of the thousands of paintings he handled during his career
must have been signed or marked. Compilers of inventories and auctioneers like
Zomer must have made use of the names and the monograms on the paintings for
attributions.43 Nonetheless, he seldom referred to them as such.44 Zomer chose to keep
his information a secret and thus worked against the idea of a transparent market,
which is in sharp contrast with some eighteenth-century French art dealers (see Neil
De Marchi and Hans Van Miegroet’s essay in this volume). He apparently never consid-
ered a signature worth mentioning in his auction catalogues. It is therefore impossible
to confirm the notion that an art dealer-connoisseur like Jan Pietersz. Zomer was inter-
ested in authenticity when attributing paintings, since he deliberately and almost sys-
tematically denied obvious evidence of authorship.45 However, Zomer was not unique
in this respect. Seventeenth-century appraisers of probate inventories in Antwerp and
Amsterdam seldom mentioned signatures or monograms. It is quite easy to check how
much attention appraisers paid to signatures. Once again, I refer to Duverger’s publi-
cation of probate inventories.46 If one checks Duverger’s publication under Frans
Floris, for instance, a painter who we know systematically signed his paintings, one
sees that signatures were seldom, if ever, mentioned. In the course of the seventeenth
century, no appraiser ever referred to Floris’s monogram (‘fff’ or ‘fff et iv’).47 Issues
of authenticity were clearly not their main concern.
One cannot deny that Zomer was like most art dealer-connoisseurs in that he had little
interest in the terms ‘studio’, ‘pupil’ or ‘disciple’. He also paid no special attention to
clear-cut evidence of authorship such as signatures. He used painters’ names in his
catalogues to divide the works of art into certain recognisable categories, rather than
to define the precise, correct attributions. He used the names to sort out the vast
number of paintings, to in effect ‘catalogue’ them. He never specifically mentioned
whether any particular work was an original or a copy. In doing so, Zomer also dodged
any possible legal actions.48 Zomer never resolved any issues of authorship in his
auctions catalogues.49 He simply suggested or insinuated certain possibilities.50
Zomer, like the other auctioneers, was paid a percentage of his turnover. If authorship
and authenticity had been a primary concern of auctioneers, art dealers or appraisers,
one would have expected them to systematically mention the signatures or mono-
grams and to differentiate between copies and ‘originals’. As I will show later on, elite
art lovers, who often purchased works at auctions, unlike the brokers, were interested
in authenticity and thus a mark of authenticity increased a work’s value. So why Zomer
and the other appraisers systematically ignored issues of attribution must lie
elsewhere. I believe that Zomer simply let the buyers figure it out for themselves.
Zomer identified the type, the style, the brand of a particular work, but it was up to the
buyers themselves to recognise the quality or lack of quality of a particular painting.
Jan Pietersz. Zomer did, however, sometimes help buyers a bit. On some occasions he
would add ‘quality labels’ to the descriptions of paintings, calling them ‘extraordinaer,
fraei, konstig, kapitael’ (extraordinary, beautiful, artistic, important), etc. Did it help?
It certainly did. Whenever Zomer added a ‘quality label’ to the description of the paint-
ing the prices rose to levels above the average prices paid for that particular painter’s
work. Take, for instance, the example of Gerard Dou. I created a table of the paintings
attributed to Dou by Jan Pietersz. Zomer in the sample of auction catalogues and
ranked them by the prices they sold for in auctions. I indicated the paintings that Jan
Pietersz. Zomer had marked with a quality label, to see if the opinion of the appraiser
and auctioneer had any influence on the buyer’s judgement. It is not surprising, in lieu
of what I noted earlier, that Zomer’s quality descriptions almost always helped to
escalate the price of a painting.
Graph 3
Table 3
Number Lot Description Price in
of words no. guilders
32 1 Een Kapitael Stuk met deuren, van Gerard Douw, zynde een Vrouwtje met een Kintje A capital piece with doors, by Gerard Dou, being a woman with a child on her lap, in 4025
op haer schoot, in een Binnenhuys by een Barbiers Winkel, &c. ongemeen konstig, an interior next to a barbers shop, etc. uncommonly artful and best known (by him)
en 't beste (van hem) bekent
28 1 Een Vrouwtje in een Keuken, Wortelen schrapende, nevens een Jongetje met een A woman in a kitchen, scraping carrots and a young boy with a mousetrap in his 1100
muyssevalletje in de hand, met veel raer bywerk, extraordinaer konstig en natuurlyk hand, with many unusual details extraordinarily artful and naturally painted by
geschildert door Gerard Douw Gerard Dou
31 3 Een Schoon Meysje in een Nisje, rustende met haer een arm op een Koper A beautiful girl in a niche, leaning with her arm on a copper kettle etc. as gracious 1100
AR T MA RK ET A ND C ONNOISSEURSHIP
Emmertje &c. Zoo gracieus en lieflyk als 't door konst te maken is mede van Gerard and lovely as art can make it by Gerard Dou
Douw
44 2 Een Oud Mannetje zittende op een Stoel, daer de Meester by komt, met een Kaers An old man sitting on a chair, the master coming to join him with a candle in his 1000
in de hand, hem ziende in de Keel, en een oud Vrouwtje daer by staende met een hand, looking in his troth and an old lady adjoining them with a lantern in her hand,
Lantare in de hand, ongemeen konstig, zagt en heerlyk geschildert, door dezelve uncommonly artful, tenderly en delightfully painted, by the same [Gerard Dou]
26 1 Een Schoon Keukemeysje, met een Visvlootje voor haer, daer by een Jongetje met A beautiful Kitchen maid, with a fish dish before her, and a young boy with a hare 770
een Haes en meerder bywerk van Gerard Douw, ongemeen teder en konstig and more details by Gerard Dou, uncommonly tenderly and artfully painted
geschildert
16 2 Een Astronomicus met een Kaers in de hand, ziende in een Boek, zeer natuurlyk An astronomer with a candle in his hand, looking in a book, very natural by the same 505
door dezelve [Gerard Dou]
10 2 Een Maria Magdalena, in een Kas met deuren van dezelve A Mary Magdalene, in a case with doors by the same [Gerard Dou] 400
10 4 Een Kaersligtend Meysje, kragtig en zeer natuurlyk geschildert, door dezelve A candle lighting girl, powerful and very naturally painted, by the same [Gerard Dou] 305
12 10 Een biddende Oud-Man, en een Vrouw in een Binnenhuys, van Gerard Douw A praying old man, and a woman in an interior by Gerard Dou 270
6 5 Een Belleblasertje, heel goet. van dito A bubble blower, very good, by the same [Gerard Dou] 160
7 13 Een Schilder in zyn Konstkamer, van Douw A painter in his cabinet, by Dou 112
7 3 Een kas, de deuren geschildert, van dito A case, the doors painted, by the same [Gerard Dou] 101
5 10 Een Melk-eetstertie van Gerard Douw A woman eating [sic] milk, by Gerard Dou 100
9 16 Een Advokaet in zyn Studeerkamer, van G. D. ongemeen curieus A lawyer in his study, by G.D. [Gerard Dou] uncommonly elaborate 75
79
6 32 Een Vrouwe Tronitje, van Gerard Douw A woman’s head, by Gerard Dou 26
5 60 Een Jongetje van Gerrit Dou A boy by Gerard Dou 8
A description in an auction catalogue is more interesting than it seems at first sight.

The number of words used, for instance, gives a good indication of the probable qual-
ity and authenticity of a painting. The numbers of words seem to be proportionate to
the prices fetched at auctions. The example of Gerard Dou is fascinating (table 3 and
graph 3) in this regard. Dou was a painter with a fairly recognisable and unique style
and he was extremely popular in the early eighteenth century.51 Connoisseurs presum-
ably knew his work well. The various works sold under Dou’s name fall into three dis-
tinct categories: The first category concerns the very cheap works, compared to the
rest. The second category comprises more expensive paintings, while the third catego-
ry includes Dou’s most exclusive works. It is fair to assume that the cheapest paintings
were mostly copies or painted in the style of Dou, along with some damaged works per-
haps. Material damage, of course lowered the price of a work. Interestingly, the
descriptions of these cheaper paintings are always short – between five to ten words
– and very little specific. In the second category, one finds more expensive paintings.
I assume that these works are mostly ‘simple’ Dou with one figure and without much
‘bijwerk’ (ornamentation). I have come to this conclusion because several of those
paintings can be identified. The descriptions in the old auction catalogues were always
longer – between ten to 20 words – and more specific. The third category includes the
exclusive Dou paintings: complex works with numerous figures and ‘bijwerk’. The
descriptions are always long – more than 20 words – and quite specific. Zomer added a
lot of praise to the descriptions of these paintings.
At the same time, the place of a painting in an auction catalogue was also very
important. As Adriaen Bout, a famous art lover and agent during the period 1710-1730
stated, better-quality paintings were always placed in the early part of the catalogue.52
He added that this did not necessarily mean that these paintings were the first to be
auctioned off, because auctioneers usually only began selling their best paintings after
the elite collectors had arrived. That Bout’s remark is accurate is confirmed by graph 4,
which shows the average prices fetched at auction per lot number.53
Graph 4
To summarise, then, one can say that the auctioneer used more words and added qual-
ity labels to describe better artworks, and that he ranked the works in the auction cata-
logue according to the alleged quality and monetary value of a particular work. The
auctioneer, however, never determined authenticity. The buyers, on the other hand,
paid high prices for higher-ranked, and more elaborately described paintings. In other
words, I see a direct connection here between the number of words used by the auc-
tioneer to describe a painting, the quality label attached to the description and its
place in the catalogue, on the one hand, and the prices paid and the presumed quality
of the painting, on the other. If one uses these among other variables, it becomes pos-
sible to note, among the vast number of paintings, that we only know from concise
catalogue descriptions, these paintings of which the seventeenth-century market
believed that they were the best type of pictures produced by well-known masters. In
other words, the one ‘Dou’ or ‘Brueghel’ has more to do with Dou or Brueghel than the
other, and a good analysis of auction catalogues can further help subdivide the distinc-
tions. Observations like these make it possible to attach some value to a description of
a painting by, for instance, Dou in auction catalogues of which no price annotations
survived. It is, however, important to also analyse each auctioneer’s own habits indi-
vidually, because each had his own idiosyncrasies.
Let me now draw some preliminary conclusions. First of all, an art broker and auction-
eer like Zomer did not differentiate between master, studio or school. He used the
master’s name as a kind of ‘brand name’, even for works that obviously lacked the nec-
essary quality. If the painting of a certain brand was of an extraordinary quality in his
opinion, he might add a ‘quality label’ in the form of praise, which, in turn, had some
‘influence’ on the market because buyers were usually prepared to pay more at auction
for a work with a quality label, although this label was not a guarantee authenticity at
all. It is the way these painters’ names were used that makes it difficult for us to under-
stand how connoisseurship in the seventeenth-century art market worked, for it seems
that quality and certainly authorship were secondary issues for the art dealer-connois-
seurs like Zomer. Zomer arranged paintings by name for the complex and, by the end
of the seventeenth century, extensive art market.54 He began with a preliminary classi-
fication and it was up to the buyers to do their own fine tuning. At least, this is the
impression one gets from analysing Zomer’s auction catalogues. It is possible that
Zomer gave more detailed advice face-to-face during viewing days or in private. But his
catalogue descriptions do not give any such indication themselves.
Part II. Demand: The connoisseurship of collectors
How ‘liefhebbers’ (art lovers) dealt with attributions, quality and authenticity is anoth-
er issue. I would now like to draw some attention to various aspects of the amateur’s
connoisseurship in relation to the art market. I will not go into the connoisseurship of
the independent experts, but merely look at those amateurs-connoisseurs who risked
their money and reputations in the process of purchasing art. I believe that criticism
from the sideline has generated a more theoretical kind of connoisseurship, which, of
course, does not mean there was no overlap. Someone like Lambert ten Kate, for
instance, might have been a well-known connoisseur, but he was not a great collector
of paintings, compared to some of his contemporaries.55 Art buyers had to be, nolens
volens, pragmatic.
So, how did wealthy art collectors deal with the problem of attributions and connois-
seurship? Did they place their recently purchased paintings on an easel, study the
works in detail and then decide on the quality and attribution, as we can see on so
many collector’s cabinet paintings? They certainly did, as Anna Tummers convincing-
ly argued in her essay in this volume (pp. 127-147). But did they base their final deci-
sions completely on their own findings? I doubt it. I believe that connoisseurs at the
top end of the art market rarely relied solely on their own good judgement. I will first
argue that collector-connoisseurs used their own critical capacities to determine the
quality and the monetary value of a piece of art. The mere pictorial quality was often as
important as the artist’s name as it appeared in the catalogues. Secondly, I will argue
that provenance and provenance research were also important in determining the val-
ue of an attribution for the elite art collector-connoisseurs in the early eighteenth cen-
tury. Thirdly, I will argue that collector-connoisseurs were dependent on each other.
An implicit, widespread acceptance of an attribution seems to have been a key factor
in determining authenticity. Contrary to the art dealer’s connoisseurship, the art lov-
er’s connoisseurship was, foremost a matter of falsification: an attribution was consid-
ered correct if it was unchallenged. In other words, elite art collectors formed a closed
community in which market transparency was quintessential and from which paint-
ings with challenged attributions were systematically banned.
Some notes on quality and anonymity
It is well known that art lovers, at least in the eighteenth century, did some of their
own fine tuning regarding the attributions as they appeared in auctions catalogues.
Gentleman dealers such as Willem Lormier often wrote ‘more precise’ attributions in
the margins of auction catalogues, which proves that the names in auctions cata-
logues were not taken for granted and that art buyers used their own good sense when
it came to authorship.56 However, the importance that amateurs attached to names,
although important, must be nuanced somewhat. Buyers at auctions were sometimes
clearly more interested in the artistic quality of a painting than in the name attached
to it (as Anna Tummers reveals see pp. 31-66 in this volume, this notion can further be
confirmed in the art theoretical literature). For example, Eric Jan Sluijter noticed, that,
although imported Flemish landscape paintings were all considered anonymous for-
eign rubbish (‘Brabantse vodden’) by complaining Dutch artists in the early seven-
teenth century, some art lovers paid abnormally high prices in auction for some of
those nameless pieces.57 As Sluijter points out, the paintings could not have been the
junk that the frustrated Dutch painters described it as. I noticed the same differences
between cheap and expensive anonymous paintings around 1700.
Graph 5
Graph 6
These curves show that the prices paid at auction for anonymous work are a very
good reflection of the prices paid for ‘attributed’ paintings. Both graphs (5 & 6) show
a similar exponential curve. In the category of anonymous paintings, the high-priced
ones were as rare as the very expensive paintings were rare in the market for attributed
paintings. That a painting was a nameless product therefore says little about its quality
and an attribution does not automatically guarantee financial gain. Seventeenth-
century art lovers were prepared to pay a lot for those nameless products, which
subsequently means that the name, however important, was not essential.58 This
confirms, in my opinion, that quality in itself was a significant factor on the art market
and that names used by art dealer-connoisseurs (i.e. attributions) did, in the buyer’s
opinion, not necessarily stand for quality or authenticity - remember the table of Dou
paintings mentioned earlier. There was not a strict congruence between attribution
and quality (which does not mean of course that issues of authenticity were of no
importance at all).
At the same time, these graphs shows that art lovers in Holland circa 1700 were
prepared to pay small fortunes for high-quality anonymous paintings. So it seems that
they indeed placed the paintings on an easel to judge their quality for themselves, and
were prepared to pay for it if the quality met their standards. An attribution was thus
not a conditio sine qua non for an art collector. However, they seldom paid as much for
an anonymous work as for an attributed painting. One gets the impression that an
amateur was prepared to pay more for a high quality anonymous painting than for one
with a dubious attribution.
Summarising, the graphs showing the prices paid for anonymous paintings com-
pared to paintings in general (during the period 1676-1739 in Amsterdam) indicates
that collector-connoisseurs were seriously interested in the quality of a work and were
not willing to blindly accept the ‘generalising’ attributions made by auctioneers.
Provenance – It has hardly been pointed out that provenance was frequently used by
art collectors around 1700 as a way of determining the authenticity of a painting.59 But
we can deduce from several sources that the most important European art collectors
who were active in the Netherlands circa 1700, paid a great deal of attention to it. De la
Court’s remarks that were noted earlier are one example of this (see p.70 above). A col-
lection catalogue for Jacques Meyers’s collection, printed in 1714, is particularly inter-
esting in this respect.60 Jacques Meyers was probably the most important private col-
lector ever in the Netherlands. His collection consisted of several dozen paintings by
Poussin, Rubens, Van Dyck, Dou, Rembrandt and other superior artists, as well as a
few hundred paintings by other renowned artists such as Cornelis van Poelenburch
and Adriaen van der Werff. Meyers paid a great deal of attention in his collection cata-
logue to both the provenance of his paintings and the implicit acceptance of their
authenticity and uniqueness (value) by connoisseurs from all over Europe. For exam-
ple, the catalogue opens with Meyers’ crown jewels, the Seven Sacraments by Nicolas
Poussin.61 Meyers details the complicated story of their provenance and includes the
opinions of various connoisseurs about the seven paintings. Moreover, he did that for
every important painting in his collection. About Poussin’s Abduction of the Sabine
Women, for instance, he noted that it came from the collection of ‘Monsieur Passart,
Maitres des Comptes’.62 About Rubens’ Jesus playing with three children and a lamb,
currently at Wilton House (fig. 1) , Meyers informed his readers that the painting was
so familiar to connoisseurs that it was not necessary to discuss its provenance. Roger
de Piles, whose books were much read in the Dutch Republic, in one of his writings
1.
Peter Paul Rubens

Christ, John and two angels, c 1615-1620
Wilton House, Salisbury
pointed out that Rubens himself had given this painting, upon the instigation of the
Spanish king, to the Duke de Gramont.63 Meyers was alluding to this story. According
to de Piles, Van Dyck’s Rinaldo and Armida had long served as ‘an ornament in
Honselaarsdijck, and later in King William III’s collection at Het Loo’.64
Jacques Meyers is an exceptional case. Whatever he claims on most of his acquisi-
tions can be double checked among other sources and most of what he said seems
true. He did not improvise the provenances to give his collection a certain grandeur,
although the pedigree of most of his best pieces had a certain splendour, no doubt.
Meyers mentioned the provenance of the paintings to guarantee their authenticity.
If there was some doubt about a painting’s attribution, even though it had a good prov-
enance, Meyers did not hesitate to mention it. For instance, he owned a Venus drying
her feet that was attributed to Raphael: ‘this painting was perfectly preserved. It was
engraved by Marcantonio [Raimondi], the engraver of Raphael’s paintings. Several
connoisseurs, nonetheless, have doubted that the painting was done by the famous
painter and believe they recognise Andrea Sacchi’s taste and style. It is from the Duc
de Gramont’s collection.’65 In confirming the doubts associated with this painting,
Meyers implicitly confirmed the confidence that one could have in the authenticity
of the rest of his collection.
What is true for Meyers is true for a number of major collectors in the seventeenth-
and early eighteenth-century Netherlands. Jan van Beuningen for instance, in the title
of the auction catalogue of stadtholder-King William III’s collection of paintings,
pointed out that it consisted of ‘extraordinary, major pieces by great and prominent
painters, gathered through serious efforts and costs from famous cabinets’.66 The
provenance was an important issue here. Whoever drew up this catalogue paid atten-
tion to the provenance of the major (i.e. the most expensive) pieces. Valerius Röver, for
instance, noted where he bought his paintings and, when known, also noted the prov-
enances.67 Diego Duarte, another famous collector, did much the same. Duarte urged
the person who had sold him an important Raphael, to write him a letter explaining
the provenance of the work.68 The correspondence of the Van den Berghe-Van der Ven-
nen firm in Ghent, published by Eric Duverger, is loaded with remarks about the prov-
enance of artworks.69 Famous connoisseurs in the seventeenth and early eighteenth
century were thus at least as keen as Meyers, Röver and Duarte regarding the pedigree
of their acquisitions.
As these examples show, good provenance helped legitimise attributions in the seven-
teenth and early eighteenth centuries. In circa 1700, most paintings had not moved
from collection to collection that often. Therefore, in many cases, it was possible for
connoisseurs to trace the pedigree, especially since most of the elite collectors marked
the backs of their paintings with wax seals. Most of these seals have disappeared since
then, but they were used in the seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries. The prov-
enance was, in other words, often ‘sealed’ on the back of the painting. A rare example
of a painting with interesting information sealed to the back is, for instance, The
Surgeon by Adriaen Brouwer (fig. 2).70 A small note, attached with sealing wax onto the
back of the panel informs us that a certain ‘Cossiau’ once had something to do with
the painting. Jan Joost van Cossiau was the court painter and art representative of
Lothar Franz von Schönborn who bought the painting for his patron at the auction of
Adriaen Paets’ collection in Rotterdam in 1713 . We know from another source that
Van Cossiau was at that auction. This fact makes one wonder if it was a custom to stick
buyers’ names on the backs of paintings at Dutch auctions in the late seventeenth and
early eighteenth centuries.
That collectors actively researched the provenance of paintings can be also be easily
demonstrated. One of the best examples I know of are the acquisitions of James
Brydges of Chandos, a famous early eighteenth-century English collector. Chandos
was very active in the Dutch art market scene.71 His correspondence with agents across
Europe illustrates, in great rare detail, the importance of a good provenance in the
elite European art trade. The first time that Chandos performed some provenance
research was when an art dealer-agent in Bayonne offered him a painting by Anthony
van Dyck.72 The painting, according to the seller, represented a kitchen scene and con-
tained a (self-) portrait of Van Dyck himself. Chandos did not believe that Van Dyck
had ever painted a kitchen scene and asked for a drawing of it, to be able to get an idea
of what the painting looked like and come up with a better assessment. Louis du Livr-
er, the agent in Bayonne, had a better idea of how to convince Chandos to buy the
painting. He knew the provenance of the painting. It came from Whitehall and was
sold in the Commonwealth Sale.73 Du Livrer urged Chandos to contact the caretaker of
the Queen’s paintings to verify that the painting was indeed part of the old inventories
of Charles I’s first’s collection at Whitehall. A second example is Chandos’ acquisition
2.
Adriaen Brouwer
The surgeon, c. 1630
Städel-Museum, Frankfurt
of Andrea del Sarto’s copy after Raphael’s Portrait of Pope Leo X with two Cardinals,
mentioned by Giorgio Vasari.74 Chandos describes his concerns about the authenticity
and provenance of the famous painting in a striking manner. In a letter dated 22 Sep-
tember 1716, Chandos formulates his concerns as follows: ‘The picture ought to be as
tenderly handled as a lady and the least question upon them casts a stain upon their
reputations, which is hardly ever washed off. Several have seen this picture, all agree it
to be a very fine one, but whither it is the same copy which Andrea made, few among
us have judgment enough to know. I wish you could inform me whither ever any other
copy was made of it, and how the original came to be in the Duke of Parma’s gallery,
for as I take it, it was paid for and given to the Duke of Florence.”75 Chandos had
bought Del Sarto’s famous copy after Raphael a few months earlier with the assistance
of his agent in Italy, Henry Davenant.76 The painting had arrived in England and the
connoisseurs, as was generally the case when an important new acquisition arrived,
assembled to have a look at the painting. All of them agreed about the exceptional
quality of the canvas, but to ensure that it was indeed the one and only exquisite copy,
someone suggested that Chandos have the provenance checked. After all, they already
knew part of the pedigree, but the missing link could dispel all doubt. Everything
turned out well. The provenance was proven and the painting was considered to be the
one by Del Sarto. There were no further doubts about its authenticity.
One significant phrase used by Chandos was: ‘few among us have judgment
enough to know’. The duke’s words remind us of the problems that connoisseurs in
seventeenth- and eighteenth-century Europe had to cope with: they seldom had any-
thing to compare their paintings with. Neither Chandos nor the connoisseurs could
compare the Del Sarto with other paintings he had done, since there were practically
none in England and they could not readily travel to each location with an expensive
work of art. They were dependent on the judgement of their agents and, more impor-
tantly perhaps, on the history of its provenance. The more valuable a painting was, the
more crucial it was to alleviate any lingering doubts about its provenance, so that ‘no
stains could be cast upon its reputation’, as Chandos so eloquently wrote. Van Gool
made a similar remark about Dutch connoisseurship of Italian painting.77 He also con-
sidered it difficult, if not impossible, to verify the attributions of Italian paintings,
since there were too few of them to compare it with. Here again, a definitive prove-
nance was essential.
It is often impossible to discover in detail how well-informed the amateurs were
when they bought a picture at auction or elsewhere. However, it is important to realise
that they did their ‘research’, for if they did, they were not likely to buy dubious attribu-
tions.
Communis opinio – The (implicit) ‘acceptance’ of the standing attributions by the com-
munity of renowned collector-connoisseurs was as important as the provenance itself.
In England, the Duke of Chandos invited his friend-connoisseurs over whenever a
painting arrived. Lothar Franz von Schönborn invited his court painters to discuss the
attributions of newly acquired masterpieces. As Van der Veen and Plomp have convinc-
ingly argued, the most important art collectors in the Dutch Republic visited each
other often as well and on those occasions discussed the paintings and attributions in
detail.78 In early eighteenth-century Holland ‘kunstbeschouwingen’ (art contempla-
tions) were organised, where amateurs discussed their drawings and paintings with
each other.79 Even paintings in transit from France to England were viewed and dis-
cussed by connoisseurs.80 The paintings were discussed by the attending crowds on
viewing days and at the auction.81 All in all, it is difficult to find the details of these dis-
cussions, but every now and then, an art collector-connoisseur leaves a clue behind.
Jacques Meyers, for instance, informed readers of his collection catalogue that some
connoisseurs had other opinions about his Raphael. Some believed that the painting
had been done by the Italian Baroque painter Andrea Sacchi. In his inventories of the
painting collection of stadtholder-King William III, Jan van Beuningen regularly ref-
ered to that the ‘community of connoisseur-art lovers’, writing down observations
such as ‘the best known by this painter’ or ‘rarely seen of this hand’.82 At the auction of
his own collection in 1716, Van Beuningen frequently used the word ‘famous’, indicat-
ing that the community of art lover-connoisseurs knew the mentioned painting well
and had no doubts about its attribution. In fact, browsing through the pages of Gerard
Hoet’s collection of auction catalogues it becomes clear that these kinds of references
were made quite regularly.83
As a consequence of the provenance research and the importance of a communis opin-

io, the connoisseurship of the elite art lover-connoisseurs seems to have been based
largely on falsification rather than on inductive or deductive science. An attribution
was implicitly accepted as long as no one ‘cast a stain upon the painting’s reputation’.
One could argue that the elite art collector-connoisseurs formed an informal private
community in which among themselves transparency was essential (see also the essay
by De Marchi and Van Miegroet in this volume).
It must be mentioned, however, that this kind of ‘falsifying connoisseurship’ was
only possible at the highest end of the art market, where connoisseurs were rarely
required to make attributions out of the blue, since the paintings they bought usually
had good provenances and clear-cut, implicitly-accepted attributions. Many other
paintings had to be attributed based on their visual characteristics and it is this kind
of inductive type of connoisseurship in which dealers such as Zomer had specialised.
Conclusion: The value of seventeenth and early

eighteenth century attributions
In his oft-quoted article on early modern connoisseurship, Jeffrey Muller argued that
in the contemporary literature: ‘Arguments were provided to give everyone satisfaction
with what he or she could afford in an art market where prices were set with increasing
regularity on a scale of authenticity’.84 That ‘scale of authenticity’ was based on the
precarious balance between supply and demand in connoisseurship. An art dealer-
auctioneer had different interests than an amateur-collector. To understand the value
of an attribution in a seventeenth or early eighteenth century auction catalogue, I
believe the buyer’s judgement and the art dealer’s opinion should both be taken into
consideration. The seller’s connoisseurship was predominantly an inductive science,
intended to guide the amateurs through the vast art market, while the connoisseur-
ship of the elite amateur-collectors in the art market focussed mainly on falsifying the
attributions proposed by the auctioneers, art dealers and colleague-collectors. In
doing so, they assessed quality, did some rudimentary provenance research and dis-
cussed the options with other amateurs in order to make sure that the standing attri-
bution would not be challenged. While auctioneers like Jan Pietersz. Zomer in the
Netherlands circa 1700 tended to keep the most valuable information to themselves,
elite art lovers formed an informal community in which transparency on provenance,

quality assessment, etc. were very important.
Let me now turn back to the anecdote I brought up in the introduction to this essay.
As a coincidence, a few months after the auction of the anonymous painting attributed
to the ‘circle of Willem Key’ by the auction house, the collector who had bought the lot
called me. He believed the painting was by Willem Key, and being ignorant of the dis-
cussion between me and the auction house, asked for advice. I repeated my doubts
about the attribution. When I asked him later if he had purchased the painting based
on the assumption that it was indeed a Willem Key, he replied that he had bought it
simply because he liked it and that it came rather cheap.
* I would like to thank Marten Jan Bok, Eric Jan Cours de peinture par principes, Paris 1708; Roger
Sluijter, Piet Bakker and of course Anna Tummers de Piles, L’idée du peintre parfait, pour servir de
for their help and comments. régle aux jugemens que l’on doit porter sur les
1 The praiseworthy efforts of the Rembrandt ouvrages des peintres, London 1707. On Roger de
Research Project and the Corpus Rubenianum Piles, see also Thomas Puttfarken, Roger de Piles’
Ludwig Burchard, for instance, have made it clear theory of art, New Haven and London 1985.
how multifaceted attributions sometimes are. Jonathan Richardson, An essay on the theory of
Ludwig Burchard et al., Corpus Rubenianum painting, London 1715. On Richardson, see Carol
Ludwig Burchard: an illustrated catalogue raisonné Gibson-Wood, Jonathan Richardson: Art Theorist of
of the work of Peter Paul Rubens based on the the English Enlightment, New Haven and London
material assembled by the late Dr. Ludwig Burchard 2000.
in twenty-six parts, edited by Nationaal Centrum 5 E.g. Karel van Mander, Het schilder-boeck,
voor de Plastische Kunsten van de XVIde en XVIIde Haarlem 1604; Cornelis de Bie, Het gulden cabinet
Eeuw, 36 vols., Brussels 1968-...; Josua Bruyn et al., vande edel vry schilder const inhovdende den lof
A Corpus of Rembrandt Paintings, edited by vande vermarste schilders, architecte-, beldtho-
Stichting Foundation Rembrandt Research Project, wers, ende plaetsnyders van dese eevw, Antwerp
4 vols., The Hague, Boston and London 1982-2005. 1661; Arnold Houbraken, De groote schouburgh
2 Max J. Friedländer, On Art and der Nederlantsche konstschilders en schilderessen,
Connoisseurship, London 1944. waar van ‘er vele met hunne beeltenissen ten
3 The word ‘principaal‘ was used in the tooneel verschynen, ... zynde een vervolg op het
Netherlands as the opposite of copy. Neil De schilderboek van K. van Mander, 3 vols., Amsterdam
Marchi and Hans Van Miegroet, ‘“Pricing invention” 1718-1721. Auction catalogues are found mainly in
“Originals”, “Copies”, and their relative value in Gerard Hoet, Catalogus of naamlyst van schilderyen,
seventeenth century Netherlandish art markets’, in: met derzelver pryzen zedert een langen reeks van
Victor A. Ginsburgh (ed.), Economics of the Arts, jaaren zoo in Holland als op andere plaatzen in het
Brussels 1996, pp. 27-70, esp. p. 33; Jaap van der openbaar verkogt : Benevens een Verzameling van
Veen, ‘By his own hand. The valuation of lysten van verscheyden nog in wezen zynde
authograph paintings in the seventeenth century’, cabinetten, 2 vols., The Hague 1752. The probate
in: Ernst Van de Wetering et al. (eds.), A Corpus of inventories used here are found in: Erik Duverger,
Rembrandt Paintings, vol. 4, The Hague 2005: Antwerpse kunstinventarissen uit de zeventiende
pp. 3-44, esp. p. 4. See also above, p.38. eeuw, Fontes Historiae Artis Neerlandicae, 13 vols.,
4 In this article, I will limit connoisseurship to Brussels 1984-2005.
attributing. I will thus not discuss the 6 On these questions, see also: Everhard
connoisseurship that determines the artistic value Korthals Altes, De verovering van de internationale
of a work of art. I consider this kind of kunstmarkt door de zeventiende-eeuwse
connoisseurship to be art criticism rather than schilderkunst: enkele studies over de verspreiding
connoisseurship. Roger de Piles, Abrégé de la vie van Hollandse schilderijen in de eerste helft van de
des peintres avec des reflexions sur leurs ouvrages, 18e eeuw, Leiden 2003, pp. 30-44.
et un traité du peintre parfait, de la connoissance 7 At another occasion, I argued that there was a
des desseins, de l’utilité des estampes, Paris 1715; discrepancy between regular art dealers and
Roger de Piles, Dissertation sur les ouvrages des solliciteurs-culturel (i.e., elite art lover-agents).
plus fameux peintres, Paris 1681; Roger de Piles, See on this: Koenraad Jonckheere, Kunsthandel en
Dialogue sur le coloris, Paris 1699; Roger de Piles, diplomatie. De veiling van de schilderijen-
verzameling van Willem III (1713) en de rol van het Heel, ‘Jan Pieterz. Zomer (1641-1724). Makelaar in
diplomatieke netwerk in de Europese kunsthandel, Schilderijen’, Jaarboek Amstelodamum 69 (1977),
Dissertation, Universiteit van Amsterdam 2005, pp. pp. 89-122. Translation by the author.
199-206. (See, for the English edition: Koenraad 15 Jonckheere, Een zeedig uijterlijk (note 9),
Jonckheere, The Auction of King William’s Paintings pp. 75-90.
(1713). Elite International Art Trade at the End of 16 Jonckheere, Kunsthandel en diplomatie (note 7).
the Dutch Golden Age, Oculi: Studies in the Arts of (numerous examples)
the Low Countries. 11, Amsterdam 2008.) 17 De Marchi and Van Miegroet, Pricing invention
8 I would like to stress that I will only be (note 3), pp. 27-70. See also Anna Tummers’ essay
discussing the upper segment of the art market, of in this volume, pp. 31-66.
which has distinctive characteristics and only covers 18 Koenraad Jonckheere, Adriaen Thomasz. Key
a very small percentage of the market. However, (ca. 1545 - ca. 1589). Portrait of a Calvinist painter,
this is the segment in which the works of art that Pictura Nova. Studies in 16th- and 17th- Century
have interested art historians over the past few Flemish Painting and Drawing. 14, edited by Hans
centuries were sold. (cf. graph 4) Vlieghe and Katlijne Van der Stighelen, Turnhout
9 See also: Korthals Altes, De verovering van de 2007, pp. 19-22.
internationale kunstmarkt (note 6), pp. 30-44. 19 In the sixteenth century, the technical and
10 ‘Daar ons Heer een Koopman geeft, daar geeft material quality of a painting was very important due
de Duijvel een Makelaer.’ Brussels, Royal Library to guild regulations, as is commonly known.
Albert I. Manuscript department, inv. II 1608: 20 On the popularity of work after Brueghel, see
Manuscript Jacob Campo Weyerman, vol. 1. On Larry Silver, ‘Second Bosch. Family Resemblance and
this manuscript by Jacob Campo Weyerman, see: the Marketing of Art’, Nederlands Kunsthistorisch
Koenraad Jonckheere. ‘Een zeedig uijterlijk, en een Jaarboek 50 (1999), pp. 31-58. On the Brueghel
fijn mans ijthangbordt, is het merk van een modern ‘workshop’ see: Peter van den Brink, ‘De kunst van
vroom Konstkoper. Jacob Campo Weyerman over het kopiëren. Het waarom en hoe van het
kunsthandel’, in: André van de Kerkhove (ed.), Liber vervaardigen van kopieën en schilderijen in oplage
Memorialis Eric Duverger, Wetteren 2006, pp. in de Nederlanden in de zestiende en zeventiende
75-90; Ton J. Broos, Tussen zwart en ultramarijn. De eeuw’, in: Peter van den Brink et al. (eds.), De Firma
levens van schilders beschreven door Jacob Campo Breughel, Brussels (Royal Museums of Fine Art) 2001
Weyerman (1677-1747), Amsterdam 1990, pp. (exh. cat.), pp. 12-43.; De Marchi and Van Miegroet,
187-206; Peter Altena, ‘Doldriftiger Monster Pricing invention (note 3), pp. 27-70.
verscheen ons noit aan de Maze. Jacob Campo 21 Some attention to this problem is given in: De
Weyerman en Rotterdam’, Mededelingen van de Marchi and Van Miegroet, Pricing invention (note 3),
Stichting Jacob Campo Weyerman, 10, 3 (1987), pp. pp. 27-70; J. Michael Montias, ‘Artists named in
74-89. Amsterdam inventories 1607-80’, Simiolus 31, 4
11 Brussels, Royal Library Albert I. Manuscript (2004-2005), pp. 322-347.
department, inv. II 1608: Manuscript Jacob Campo 22 The index to Duverger’s Antwerp inventories
Weyerman, vol. 1. ‘Maer een verstandig (Erik Duverger, Antwerpse kunstinventarissen uit de
Konstkenner moet zich schier half dood lachen, als zeventiende eeuw, Fontes Historiae Artis
hij den dommen konstuijl, de namen van eenige Neerlandicae, vol. 13, Brussels 2005) offers a good
konstschilders hoort uijtstameren, want die indication of the large number of painters’ names in
behandelt hij gelijk als een jongen, die pas begint early modern Antwerp and the confusion it may
te leezen, de hebreeusche namen in Genesis cause.
behandelt, en echter is hij onbeschaemt genoeg 23 This is also suggested by De Marchi and Van
om aen fatsoenlijke wel opgevoede persoonen den Miegroet and by Montias; see note 20.
baard te willen opzetten door zijne achterstraets 24 Lisa Pon, Raphael, Dürer and Marcantonio
onkunde.’ Raimondi. Copying and the Italian Renaissance Print,
12 Jaap van der Veen, ‘De Amsterdamse New Haven and London 2004.
kunstmarkt en de schilderijaankopen voor Peter de 25 Nico Van Hout, Copyright Rubens. Rubens en
Grote’, in: Renée Kistemaker et al. (eds.), Peter de de grafiek, Antwerp (Koninklijk Museum voor Schone
Grote en Holland. Culturele en wetenschappelijke Kunsten) 2004 (ex.cat.), pp. 40-53.
betrekkingen tussen Rusland en Nederland ten 26 Carl van de Velde, Frans Floris (1518/1519).
tijde van tsaar Peter de Grote, Amsterdam Leven en werken, Verhandelingen van de Koninklijke
(Amsterdams Historisch Museum) 1996 (ex. cat.), Academie voor Wetenschappen, Letteren en Schone
p. 137. Kunsten van België. 30, 2 vols., Brussels 1975, vol. 1,
13 Jonckheere, Kunsthandel en diplomatie (note pp. 102-104. On the use of the word ‘fecit’ see also
7), pp. 32-56 and pp. 72-73. Anna Tummers’ essay in this volume, pp. 31-66.
14 On the satirical poems, see Hanns Floerke, 27 Van de Velde, Frans Floris (note 25), vol. 1,
Der Niederländische Kunst-Handel im 17. und 18. pp. 472-473. Also quoted by Van der Veen, By his
Jahrhundert, Basel 1901, p. 77; S.A.C. Dudok Van own hand (note 3), p. 14.
The observation that painters were aware of the van schilderyen, met derzelver prysen, zedert ...
economic value of a name is verified to some extent 1752. tot ... 1768. ... openbaar verkogt. Dienende
by Marten Jan Bok’s hypothesis in his article on the tot een vervolg ... op de ... cataloguen door Gerard
Amsterdam artist François Badens. He showed that Hoet ..., The Hague 1770.
Badens took over the studio previously owned by 37 For details on the exact content of the
first Dirck Barentsz. and later on Pieter Izaacsz. Bok database see: Jonckheere, Kunsthandel en
suggested that that studio on the Oude Turfmarkt diplomatie (note 7), pp. 208-211.
in Amsterdam was a place where Amsterdam’s 38 On Jan Pieters. Zomer see: Jonckheere,
citizens could buy paintings in the Italian manner. Kunsthandel en diplomatie (note 7), pp. 49-56.
In his view, the building-studio was not merely the Dudok Van Heel, Jan Pieterz. Zomer (note 14),
place where a specific painter worked and lived, it pp. 89-122.
probably also had some status as a place where 39 It would be possible to compare the
paintings in a certain style and of a certain quality descriptions in these auction catalogues with the
were sold. Bok also proposed a similar hypothesis descriptions in the probate inventories. Several
in the case of a studio for portraiture that was collections auctioned by Zomer were first appraised
founded, so to speak, in 1606 by Cornelis van der by the same. See Getty Provenance Index (online:
Voort and continued by Pickenoy and Rembrandt. http://www.getty.edu/research/conducting_
In these cases, we cannot speak of brand names research/provenance_index/)
but the assumption that a painter worked in a 40 This is only true for Old Master paintings.
certain manner, while maintaining the reputation of 41 As Van der Veen revealed, Zomer was aware of
the studio (associated with a place), is similar. See the problems, however.
Marten Jan Bok, ‘De Ganymedes van François 42 It could be that Zomer informed his clients
Badens en de werkplaats voor schilderijen in orally of a more nuanced opinion on viewing days.
Italiaanse stijl aan de oude Turfmarkt’, Jaarboek 43 Van der Veen, By his own hand (note 3),
Amstelodamum 92, 4 (2005), pp. 3-14. pp. 10-17.
28 Erik Duverger, Antwerpse kunstinventarissen 44 Van der Veen, By his own hand (note 3), p. 20.
uit de zeventiende eeuw, Fontes Historiae Artis 45 On the practice of signing in the sixteenth and
Neerlandicae, 13 vols., Brussels 1984-2005. seventeenth century see: Van der Veen, By his own
29 I.e., a name or description that cannot cause hand (note 3), pp. 10-17.
any confusion about a painting’s authenticity. 46 Duverger, Antwerpse kunstinventarissen (note
30 Klaus Ertz, Jan Brueghel der ältere (1568-1625). 28).
Die Gemälde mit kritischen Oeuvrekatalog, Keulen 47 Van de Velde, Frans Floris (note 26), vol. 1,
1979; Klaus Ertz, Jan Brueghel the younger. The pp. 12-104.
Paintings with Oeuvre Catalogue, Flemish Painters 48 As Van der Veen showed, there were many
in the Circle of the Great Masters. 1, Freren 1984. court cases involving attributions and authenticity in
31 Duverger, Antwerpse kunstinventarissen (note the Northern and Southern Netherlands in the
28), vol. 10, p. 84. seventeenth century. However, one could only build
32 Van der Veen, By his own hand (note 3), p. 8. a case if the seller (e.g., the broker) had taken stand
Van der Veen calls it ‘misunderstandings’. It is hard explicitly. Van der Veen, By his own hand (note 3),
to believe that they were misunderstandings since pp. 3-44.
precise attributions are the exceptions in most 49 Van der Veen gives an example of Zomer’s
probate inventories. Broad-spectrum attributions expertise on several Rembrandt drawings and
were the rule. concludes that buyers and dealers had different
33 The same is true for the Dutch Republic. Van interests. Van der Veen, By his own hand (note 3),
der Veen, By his own hand (note 3), p. 31. I wonder pp. 29-30. I agree.
whether in those cases it was an appraiser / art 50 To fully explain what Zomer did, one can
dealer-connoisseur or a collector-connoisseur who compare it to today’s fashion industry. It may seem
made up the inventory. far fetched but it is not, since both the fashion
34 Jonckheere, Kunsthandel en diplomatie (note industry today and the seventeenth-century
7), pp.49-56. painters balanced on a thin line between arts and
35 See also, on this matter, Anna Tummers’ essay crafts. Take for instance Versace: you can buy
‘By his hand...’ in this volume. Versace clothes in a department store or unique
36 Gerard Hoet (ed.), Catalogus of naamlyst van Versace fashion show pieces. There is hand-made
schilderyen, met derzelver pryzen zedert een Italian Versace clothing and illegal Chinese mass
langen reeks van jaaren zoo in Holland als op production Versace clothing. You can buy a Versace
andere plaatzen in het openbaar verkogt : piece made by the late Gianni or a dress made by
Benevens een Verzameling van lysten van Donatella, his sister. Zomer would have called every
verscheyden nog in wezen zynde cabinetten / item related to the brand a ‘Versace’, even though
uytgegeven door Gerard Hoet, 2 vols., The Hague there is a huge difference between the Haute
1752; Pieter Terwesten (ed.), Catalogus of naamlyst Couture and the Chinese mass produced clothing,
between Gianni and Donatella. It would take an pieces], canvas, all c. 117 x 178 cm, Edinburgh, The
expert to see whether a piece of clothing by National Gallery of Scotland (long term loan from
Versace is a unique catwalk piece by Gianni or by the Duke of Sutherland).
Donatella, a confection piece or a complete 62 ‘Il a été autrefois entre les mains de Monsieur
Chinese fake. Nonetheless, we will call them all Passart, Maitres des Comptes’; Nicolas Poussin,
Versace. This is, I believe, what Zomer did with The abduction of the Sabine women, canvas,
paintings. He labelled all paintings ‘Rubens’, 154,6 x 209,9 cm, New York, The Metropolitan
whether it was a unique handmade oil sketch, Museum (Harris Brisbane Dick Fund).
a studio product or a late seventeenth-century copy 63 Peter Paul Rubens, Christ, John and two angels,
by an inferior painter. He called all panels and canvas, 92 x 122 cm, Salisbury, Wilton House.
canvases that were painted in the manner of 64 ‘Ornement à la Maison de Honselaerdyk, en
‘Rubens’, Rubens, although he certainly did not suite dans le Cabinet de Guillaume III, Roi d’
ignore the fact that Rubens had a large studio with Angleterre, à Loo, d’ ou il vient présentement’;
many assistants. Anthony van Dyck, Rinaldo en Armida, Canvas,
51 Jonckheere, Kunsthandel en diplomatie 133 x 109 cm, Paris, Musée du Louvre, inv. no. 1235.
(note 7), p. 217. 65 ‘Ce Tableau est parfaitement bien conservé.
52 On Bouts remark, see Erik Duverger, Il a été gravé par Marc Antoine, Graveur ordinaire
Documents concernant le commerce d’art de des Tableaux de Raphaël. Quelques Connoisseurs
Francisco-Jacomo van den Berghe et Gillis van der doutent néanmoins qu’il soit de ce Peintre célebre,
Vennen de Gand avec la Hollande et la France & ont cru y reconnoitre la Maniere & le Gout d’
pendant les premières décades du XVIIIe siècle, Andrea Sacchi. Il vient du Cabinet du Duc de
Wetteren 2004, p. 268. Gramont.’
53 This graph is based on all price-annotated 66 ‘extraordinaire kapitale stukken van groote en
auction catalogues published between 1676 and voorname meesters, met extra groote moeiten en
1739. On the database and this graph, see: kosten, uyt beroemde Kabinetten, byeen [had]
Jonckheere, Kunsthandel en diplomatie (note 7), pp. vergadert’; Jan van Beuningen was considered one
208-211 and 65. of the best connoisseurs in the early eighteenth
54 On the seventeenth-century art market, see: century. He was immensely wealthy and he had a
Marten Jan Bok, Vraag en aanbod op de famous collection. Foreign princes and noblemen
Nederlandse kunstmarkt, 1580-1700, Utrecht 1994. called him their friend. When the collection of
55 Hessel Miedema, Denkbeeldig schoon. Stadholder-King William III came up for sale in 1713,
Lambert ten Kates opvattingen over beeldende Jan van Beuningen was asked by the inheritors to
kunst, 2 vols., Leiden 2006, vol. 2, p. 21. Lambert organise the auction. In preparation for the auction,
ten Kate noticed that connoisseurship was not an Jan van Beuningen visited the galleries at Het Loo
inductive science based on empirical observations. palace several times. In December 1712, the
He was an ‘independent’ amateur and mainly painting collection was valued and inventoried by
discussed quality in art, rather than attributions. Jan Pietersz. Zomer and Jan van Beuningen. In april
56 Korthals Altes, De verovering van de 1713, another inventory was drawn up. The
internationale kunstmarkt (note 6), p. 41. catalogue was finally printed in June 1713. The
57 Eric Jan Sluijter, ‘Over Brabantse vodden, comparison between the inventories and
economische concurrentie, artistieke wedijver en de preparatory lists of paintings drawn up by Jan van
groei van de markt voor schilderijen in de eerste Beuningen and the catalogue, written by the same,
decennia van de zeventiende eeuw’, Nederlands illustrate wonderfully how much the interests of the
Kunsthistorisch Jaarboek 50 (1999), pp. 113-144, amateur Van Beuningen differed from that of the
esp. pp. 119-121. auctioneer Van Beuningen. While in the inventories,
58 This is in general. It might have been essential the amateur sets an honest price, in the auction
for specific art lovers. catalogue he tries to sell the same paintings at the
59 This paragraph is partially based on a lecture highest price. The difference is sometimes striking.
I gave in 2005 at the Symposium To be or not to be The descriptions in the inventories are all very
a Connoisseur. A symposium in honour of Hans neutral and accentuate the doubts and the
Vlieghe, at the Catholic University of Leuven, deficiencies. The auction catalogue in turn
entitled ‘De achterkant van een schilderij. emphasizes the qualities of all the paintings.
Kennerschap omstreeks 1700’. Although Jan van Beuningen is more open and
60 On this catalogue, see J.G. Van Gelder, ‘Het precise than Jan Pietersz. Zomer in the auction
Kabinet van de Heer Jaques Meyers’, Rotterdams catalogue, he does make efforts to conceal
Jaarboekje (1974), pp. 167-183. Jonckheere, hesitations. For instance, a night piece by Gerard
Kunsthandel en diplomatie (note 6), pp. 95-98. The Dou that was ruined by the sun (Penneschneydertje
catalogue is published in Jonckheere, Kunsthandel bij de kaars, seer verschroeyt van de soon, door
en diplomatie (note 6), pp. 268-280. Douw), was auctioned as a painting by Dou with
61 Nicolas Poussin, Seven Sacraments [seven some cracks in it (Een Pennesnydertje by de Kaers,
wat beborsten). Cracks could be repaired, faded Collections, possessions and patronage of
colours could not. Paintings with an uncertain Charles I in the light of the Commonwealth sale
attribution become paintings with certain inventories, London 1989.
attributions. All doubt was erased as it seems. 74 San Marino, Huntington Library, Brydges
67 E.W. Moes, ‘Het kunstkabinet van Valerius Papers, inv. no. ST 57, Letters from James
Röver te Delft’, Oud Holland 31 (1913), pp. 4-24. Brydges to Henry Davenant, 21 August 1715-26
68 Korthals Altes, De verovering van de December 1719, vol. 12, p. 90, 110, 154, 174, 239,
internationale kunstmarkt (note 6), p. 33. On 258; vol. 13, p. 36, 45-46, 83; vol. 14, p. 43, 50, 121,
Duarte: Frederik Muller, ‘Catalogus van 381; vol. 15, p. 194; vol. 16, p. 261, 422.
schilderijen van Diego Duarte, te Amsterdam in 75 San Marino, Huntington Library, Brydges
1682, met de prijzen van aankoop en Taxatie’, De Papers, inv. no. ST 57, Letter from James Brydges
oude tijd 2 (1870), pp. 397-402; G. Dogaer, ‘De to Henry Davenant, 22 September 1716, vol. 13,
inventaris der schilderijen van Diego Duarte’, p. 46.
Jaarboek van het Koninklijk Museum voor Schone 76 Andrea del Sarto (after Raphael), Portrait of
Kunsten Antwerpen, (1971), pp. 195-221; Edgar R. Leo X and two cardinals, panel, Naples, Museo e
Samuel, ‘The Disposal of Diego Duarte’s Stock of Gallerie Nazionali di Capodimonte.
Paintings 1692-1697’, Jaarboek van het Koninklijk 77 Johan van Gool, De nieuwe schouburg der
Museum voor Schone Kunsten Antwerpen, (1976), Nederlantsche kunstschilders en schilderessen:
pp. 305-324. waer in de levens- en kunstbedryven der tans
69 Duverger, Documents concernant le levende en reets overleedene schilders, die van
commerce d’art (note 52). Houbraken, noch eenig ander schryver, zyn
70 Adriaen Brouwer, The surgeon, panel, aengeteekend, verhaelt worden, The Hague 1750-
34.9 x 25.9 cm, Frankfurt, Städel-Museum. Some 1751, vol. 2, p. 110-111.
other examples are: Gerard Dou, The Violin Player, 78 E.g. Jaap van der Veen, ‘Met grote moeite
panel, 31.1 x 23.7 cm, Edinburgh, The National en kosten. De totstandkoming van zeventiende-
Gallery of Schotland (This painting still has the eeuwse verzamelingen’, in: Ellinoor Bergvelt and
wax seal of James Brydges of Chandos attached Renee Kistemaker (eds.), De wereld binnen
to the back); Joos van Cleve, Portrait of a man, handbereik. Nederlandse kunsten
panel, 45 x 43.5 cm, The Hague, The Mauritshuis rariteitenverzamelingen, 1585-1735, Amsterdam
(this panel has the wax seals of King William III (Amsterdams Historisch Museum) 1992 (exh. cat.),
and Mary and of Prince Johan Willem Friso pp. 51-69; Jaap van der Veen, ‘Liefhebbers,
attached to the back); In the probate inventory of handelaren en kunstenaars. Het verzamelen van
Jacques Meyers, the notary noted that several schilderijen en papierkunst’, in: Ellinoor Bergvelt
paintings were marked with a wax seal (Rotterdam, and Renee Kistemaker (eds.), De wereld binnen
Gemeentearcief Rotterdam, Notarieel Archief handbereik. Nederlandse kunsten
Rotterdan, inv. no. 1527 deed 15: Estate inventory rariteitenverzamelingen, 1585-1735, Amsterdam
of Jacques Meyers, 25 September 1721.) (Amsterdams Historisch Museum) 1992 (exh. cat.),
71 On the collecting of James Brydges of pp. 117-134; Plomp, Michiel C., Hartstochtelijk
Chandos, see: Jonckheere, Kunsthandel en Verzameld. 18de-eeuwse Hollandse verzamelaars
diplomatie (note 7), pp. 115-148. Susan Jenkins, van tekeningen en hun collecties, Bussem 2001,
Portrait of a Patron. The Patronage and Collecting pp. 104-118.
of James Brydges 1st Duke of Chandos (1674- 79 See for instance Miedema, Denkbeeldig
1744), Aldershot 2007, pp. 126-151. C.H. Collins schoon (note 55), vol. 2, p. 20. Plomp,
Baker and Muriel I. Baker, Life and circumstances Hartstochtelijk Verzameld (note 78), pp. 104-118.
of James Brydges First Duke of Chandos. Patron 80 E.g. Koenraad Jonckheere, ‘The influence of
of the Liberal Arts, Oxford 1949. art trade and art collecting on Dutch art around
72 Unpublished letters: San Marino, Huntington 1700. The case of Adriaen van der werff’, in:
Library, Brydges Papers, inv. no. ST 57, Letters Ekkehard Mai (ed.), Holland nach Rembrandt. Zur
from James Brydges to Louis du Livrer, 27th April niederländischen Kunst zwischen 1670 und 1750,
1709-21th March 1710, vol. 2, p. 196, 238; vol. 3, Cologne 2006, pp. 49-66, p.52.
p. 23, 47, 97, 118; vol. 4, p. 6, 185. San Marino, 81 Jonckheere, Kunsthandel en diplomatie
Huntington Library, Brydges Papers, inv. no. ST 58, (note 7).
Letters from Louis du Livrer to James Brydges, 18 82 Koenraad Jonckheere, ‘When the cabinet
May 1709-30 May 1713, vol. 4, p. 33, 151, 159, 210, from Het Loo was sold. The auction of William III’s
250; vol. 5, p. 31, 40, 72, 84, 111, 141, 185, 217, collection of paintings, 26 july 1713’, Simiolus 13,
225; vol. 6, 13. 3 (2004-2005), pp. 156-215, esp. pp. 192-215.
73 On the Commonwealth Sale, see Jerry 83 See on the weight of connoisseurs’ judgment
Brotton, The sale of the late king’s goods. Charles in the seventeenth century, Anna Tummers’ essay
I and his art collection, Basingstoke 2006; Arthur The Painter vs. the Connoisseur, pp. 127-147
MacGregor (ed.), The late King’s goods. below.
84 Jeffrey Muller, ‘Measures of Authenticity.

The Detection of Copies in the Early Literature on
Connoisseurship’, in: Kathleen Preciado (ed.),
Retaining the original: Multiple Originals, Copies,
and Reproductions, Washington DC 1989.
96 NATASJ A PE E TE R S
Chapter 3
Natasja Peeters
‘Painters pencells move not

without that musicke’: Prices
of Southern Netherlandish
Painted Altarpieces between
1585 and 1650*
Introduction
In an imaginary dialogue from 1538 written by the humanist Johannes Vives, we find
Albrecht Dürer in a conversation with two imaginary learned men, Grynius and Velius.1
They are talking about Dürer’s imaginary portrait of Scipio Africanus, which they want
to see, either to buy it, or to criticise it, or possibly, to show off their knowledge, to the
annoyance of the artist.
Dürer: Go away from here, for you will buy nothing …

Grynius: Nay, we wish to buy, only we wish you to leave the price to our judgement,
and that you should state the limit of time for payment, or, on the other hand, let us
settle the time and you the amount of the payment.
Dürer: A fine way of doing business! There is no need for me to have nonsense of
this sort! 2
The price is put at 400 sesterces, whereupon the two connoisseurs become increasing-
ly difficult customers: they want to examine the painting thoroughly to see if it is worth
the asking price. Dürer, stubborn, proud and by now probably vexed, is reluctant to
accommodate them:
Velius: I should like to be able to see the back of the head.

Dürer: Then turn the panel round.3
Although this is an imaginary account which ends on a comic note, it does ring true
regarding how artists must have felt when a difficult client examined their work while
trying to strike a bargain. As is well-known, the assessment of any work of art is influ-
enced by its material costs, but also by less tangible aspects such as its perceived artis-
tic value.4 But how exactly prices were determined for specific types of paintings in
many instances remains unclear.
In the past decades, a lot of research has been done on different social and eco-
nomic aspects of the early modern market for luxury objects. Sales inventories,
merchants and auction prices concerning paintings have been studied.5 Moreover,
the reception of copies, pastiches and originals on the market has been analysed, as
well as merchant’s interventions in the establishment of prices.6 However, not all of
the aspects of the early modern market for luxury goods have been analysed. Indeed,
we are still unable to trace the exact nature of the interaction between many artists
and their royal patrons, the city councils, and the various private citizens who pur-
chased paintings.
This essay focuses on the prices paid for Southern Netherlandish altarpieces made
between 1585 and 1650. Not much is known about their prices; only a few scattered
case studies exist.7 This is primarily because of lack of available material evidence. The
disasters of 1533 (fire in the Cathedral of Our Lady in Antwerp), 1566 (Iconoclasm),
1581 (silent Iconoclasm), 1585 (Fall of Antwerp), and the large-scale confiscations of
Flemish art by Napoleon, all of which destroyed much of the patrimony, its churches,
art and archives, caused the dispersal of the material evidence. Although the evidence
presented here is largely restricted to Antwerp, some church altarpieces in other towns
will also be taken into consideration to broaden our sample, which is limited both by a
lack of archival sources and the disappearance of many altarpieces.8 The evolution of
prices will be charted over two periods: before and after 1609, the year when the politi-
cal, social, economic and religious situation in Antwerp changed for the better, and
when Rubens returned to the Southern Netherlands. Moreover, after 1609, there was
an evolution in typology, iconography of the altarpiece as well as a shift in patronage
(see below).9
Altarpieces were among the most valuable types of paintings produced during this
period, both in terms of their actual prices and their theoretical status. Religious and
other history paintings constituted the greatest artistic challenge according to seven-
teenth-century Southern Netherlandish art theorists. The artists had often specialised
in this genre. Indeed, altarpieces made up a sizeable part of the careers of late six-
teenth-century artists such as Marten de Vos, Frans and Ambrosius Francken, Otto van
Veen and Michiel Coxcie, as well as Jacob de Backer, Frans Pourbus, Bernard de
Rijckere and Chrispijn van den Broeck.10 In the seventeenth century, Peter Paul
Rubens, and the likes of Gaspar de Crayer, Jacob Jordaens, Anthony van Dyck and the
little studied Theodoor van Loon, among others, were prolific painters of altarpieces.
When looking at similar paintings produced in many Italian cities during the Ren-
aissance we see that the pricing of these works has been studied in much more depth
than the prices of Southern Netherlandish altarpieces. Research that correlates the
formats, themes and raw materials used to produce the altarpieces with the pricing
mechanisms is based on richly detailed Italian archival sources.11 What then deter-
mines the price of a painted altarpiece? Art historian Michelle O’Malley, in her recent
book The business of Art on fifteenth and sixteenth-century Italian altarpieces, states
that: ‘The analysis of the cost of materials and production … suggests that the ele-
ments of a work that were objectively priced and easily quantified could vary widely,
and might cost between about 30 and about 80 per cent of the value of the altarpiece.
The remainder of the fee was composed, therefore, of the value given to intangible
elements. These included skill as well as economic factors related to social needs,
such as relationships, honour, piety and reputation. This sum was correspondingly
wide. It could have been as much as 70 per cent, which might be represented in com-
missions in which painter’s fees were well above the average, and as little as 20 per
cent in commissions for works with fairly low prices. These calculations are very rough
indeed, but they offer an initial field for conceptualising the costs of intangibles, and
indicate that there was a wide field for decision-making when painters and their
clients considered the pricing of a new work of art.’12
These large differences, and the fact that there is no one formula for the setting of
prices in Renaissance Italy, may come as a surprise. Is the same true for prices of six-
teenth and seventeenth century Southern Netherlandish altarpieces?
Prices of painted altarpieces in the years after the Fall of Antwerp:

The Francken-brothers, De Vos, Coxcie, and Van Veen13
After the Fall of Antwerp, on 9 September 1585, the craft guilds were ordered by the city
government (the Monday Council) to repair and reinstall the altars as quickly as possi-
ble.14 In the decades that followed, the restoration and reestablishment of Catholic
worship and its symbols were a priority. The most important place of veneration in
Antwerp was the Cathedral of Our Lady (fig. 1), which housed as many as 60 or more
1.
Hendrik Van Steenwijck

Interior view of the Cathedral of Our Lady in Antwerp,
before 1585, current location unknown
altars during the 1550s. These had been commissioned by guilds and trades, brother-
hoods and private individual donors.15 In the years after 1600, churches in the small
towns around Antwerp, such as Herentals and Lier, were refurbished as well.
The creation or renovation of altarpieces involved a lot of work: preparing, revising
with the patrons, reworking certain parts, and lastly, there was a lot of surface to paint.
The price was presumably set before the contract was drawn up, and the artist was
paid in instalments.16 In most cases, one-third or one-quarter of the money was
advanced upon commencement of the work to allow the artist to buy the necessary
materials, another portion was paid as the work progressed, and the final portion was
paid upon completion of the work. The panel maker – the sample altarpieces from the
period 1585-1609 are all on panel – was usually paid separately by the patron himself.
One needs to keep in mind, however, that among all of the chapel or altar’s furnish-
ings, the painting itself was often the least expensive, especially when compared to the
marble sculptures, bronze ornaments, architectural details, etc. The total cost of the
altar was thus much greater than the painted panel, which was part of a much larger
and expensive decoration program. Altarpieces were unique creations, made for the
occasion; they are also conspicuously public works of art, serving moreover as reli-
gious capital within the community of believers.
The sample presented here is of 15 altarpieces painted by the Francken brothers
(nine paintings), Michiel Coxcie (one), Marten de Vos (three) and Otto van Veen (two)
between 1587 and 1609 (see tables 1/1 and 1/2). The first altarpiece was finished after
the fall of Antwerp in 1587 by Frans Francken and represents Christ among the doctors.
It was painted for the guilds of the schoolmasters and soap boilers in the Cathedral of
Our Lady in Antwerp where they shared an altar (fig. 2). The last altarpiece in the sam-
ple was painted in 1608-1609 by Ambrosius Francken for the altar of the Heilige Geest-
meesters (Poor masters) in the Church of Saint Waldetrudis in Herentals, a small town
near Antwerp, where the roots of the Francken family lay (fig. 3). What can we deduce
from these 15 examples? While the commissions on average were 515.74 Car. (Caro-
lus) guilders, the median was 350 Car. guilders. Before 1594, no altarpiece fetched over
500 Car. guilders (the highest was 360); while after that year, prices readily rose above
500 Car. guilders, and the lowest commission fetched 325. The average for the years
1587-98 was 311 Car. guilders and for the years 1599-1609 rose dramatically to 925 Car.
guilders, nearly three times as much. There was a range from 50 to 2,400 Car. Guilders
per commission.
What could possibly explain the increase in prices at the end of the sixteenth cen-
tury? After the difficult Calvinist period of 1581-85, many guilds and other patrons suf-
fered from a lack of funds.17 They may thus have opted to order altarpieces at discount
prices in order to keep within the budget. Could this increase in prices be due to an
increase in the artworks’ dimensions? The dimensions of thirteen examples range
from 5.8 to 23.2 m2 (see table 1/3). Each commission on average totalled 13.6 m2. Is
there a noticeable increase in the dimensions over the 23-year period in our sample?
The average for the years 1587-97 was 12.7 m2 while that for the years 1598-1609 was
15.4 m2. This means that there was a tendency towards larger dimensions, but both
large and small altarpieces were produced during both periods.
Is there a positive relationship between size and price? 13 of the 15 samples reveal
something about the price rates per m2 (see table 1/4). The average rate was 43 Car.
guilders/m2; the median was 24.3 Car. guilders/m2 for a total price range of 3.88 Car.
guilders/m2 to 103.4 Car. guilders/m2, certainly a dramatic difference. Artists like
Marten de Vos and Otto van Veen were paid up to 25 times the rate that Frans
* ‘f’ : full figures; h: half length figures; H: heads;

ff: number of full figures difficult to count; hh:
number of half length figures difficult to count;
HH: number of heads difficult to count.
# some rates/m2 have been rounded.
1 Altarpiece for the guilds of the schoolmasters
and soapboilers who shared an altar for their
chapel in the Cathedral of Our Lady in Antwerp.
Natasja Peeters, Tussen continuïteit en vernieuwing.
De bijdrage van Frans en Ambrosius Francken
I, en de jonge generatie Francken, tot de
historieschilderkunst te Antwerpen ca 1570-1620,
PhD Dissertation Vrije Universiteit Brussels 2000
(publication forthcoming), cat. No. F 9: oil on
panel; dimensions central panel 250 cm x 220 cm;
wings 4 x (250 cm x 97 cm).
2 Peeters, Tussen continuïteit (note 1), cat. No. F 10.
Support unkown, presumably panel. The altarpiece
was made for the no longer extant church of the
torn-down Antwerp Citadel.
3 Altarpiece for the guild of Saint-Sebastian (militia),
for the altar in the church of Saint Romuald (or
Rombout) in Mechelen; oil on panel; dimensions
central panel 232 cm x 191 cm; wings 4 x
(230 cm x 88 cm).
4 Altarpiece for the sodality [Brotherhood] of the
Annunication of the Virgin. The painting was a gift
from alderman Gillis Gerardi for the brotherhood’s
chapel in the building of the Sodality on current
Conscience place in Antwerp. Peeters, Tussen
continuïteit (note 1), cat. No. F 12. The author thanks
Joost Vander Auwera for help with the conversion
of the dimensions: it was 3,4 ft in height and 4,7 ft in
width, corresponding to the dimensions
96.5 cm x 133.4 cm, the Antwerp foot being 28.4 cm.
5 Altarpiece for the brotherhood of the Holy
Sacrament for their venerable chapel in the parish
church of Saint Andrew in Antwerp. Peeters, Tussen
continuïteit (note 1), cat. No. A 5. Oil on panel. The
dimensions of the central panel are 275 cm x 240 cm;
the wings 4 x (255 cm x 115 cm).
6 Peeters, Tussen continuïteit (note 1), cat. No. F 13.
Oil on panel. Altarpiece for the guild of the coopers
in the Cathedral of Our Lady in Antwerp.
7 Painting with a multitude of figures.
8 Altarpiece for the high altar for the parish church
of Saint James in Antwerp. Martin Zweite, Marten
de Vos als Maler, Berlin 1980, no. 85, pp. 305-306
and pp.
374-376, doc. 9. Oil on panel. The dimensions of
the central panel are 235 cm x 247 cm. Archival
documents show that the money was gathered
from private donations. Peeters, Tussen continuïteit
(note 1), cat. No. A 23. The wings were painted by
Ambrosius Francken (see further).
9 Number of figures for central panel only. The wings
of the altarpiece are not preserved.
10 Altarpiece for the chapel of the brotherhood
of Saint Anthony, in the Cathedral of Our Lady in
Antwerp. Zweite, Marten de Vos (note 8), no. 84,
pp. 304-305 and pp. 374, doc. 8; oil on panel. The
central panel measures 280 x 212 cm. The wings
probably measured 4 x (280 cm x ca 100 cm).
11 The central panel of the altarpiece is not
preserved.
12 Altarpiece for the high altar for the parish
church of Saint George in Antwerp. Peeters,
Tussen continuïteit (note 1), cat. No. A 12. Oil on
panel. Central panel not preserved, but measuring
presumably ca 270 cm x c. 170 cm; wings 4 x
(270 cm x 90 cm).
13 Altarpiece for the guild of the Vintners for their
chapel in the Cathedral of Our Lady in Antwerp.
Zweite, Marten de Vos (note 8), no. 86, pp. 306-308,
and pp. 376-378, doc. 10; oil on panel; dimensions
central panel 268 cm x 235 cm. 1996, pp. 367-368 (citing a total of 2700 Car. guilders). Oil on
14 Large number of heads. panel. The dimensions of the central panel are 269 cm x 214
15 Altarpiece for the high altar of the parish church of Saint cm, the wings 2 x (267 cm x 167 cm) and 2 x (267 cm x 162 cm);
Andrew in Antwerp. Pieter Visschers, Geschiedenis van St. according to Freedberg there were also 2 small predellae, but
Andrieskerk te Antwerpen sedert hare opkomst tot den huidigen nothing further is known about them so we cannot take this into
dag, 3 vols., Antwerpen 1853, vol. 1, pp. 69-73, oil on panel; the consideration here.
panel measures 437 cm x 287 cm. The artist was paid 1,200 Car. 19 Number of figures for wings only.
guilders and a gratuity/gift of 60 Car. guilders. King Philip II of 20 Ambrosius Francken provided the wings for the completion of
Spain himself undertook part of the sponsoring of the altarpiece. the previously mentioned altarpiece of Saint James, for the parish
16 Peeters, Tussen continuïteit (note 1), cat. No. F 27. Oil on church of Saint James in Antwerp, for which Marten de Vos had
panel. The dimensions of the central panel are 231 cm x 208 cm; painted the central panel. Peeters, Tussen continuïteit (note 1),
the wings 4 x (235 cm x 92 cm). cat. no. A 23. Oil on panel. The dimensions of the wings are
17 Altarpiece with a multitude of figures. 4 x (230 cm x 104 cm).
18 Altarpiece for the chapel of the Mercers’ guild for their chapel 21 Altarpiece with a multitude of figures.
in the Cathedral of Our Lady in Antwerp. David Freedberg, 22 Altarpiece for the H. Geestmeesters [Poor masters] for their
Iconoclasm and painting in the revolt of the Netherlands: chapel in Church of Saint Waldetrudis at Herentals. Peeters,
1566-1609, New York 1988, pp. 224-227; Stefaan Grieten and Tussen continuïteit (note 1), cat. No. A 24. Oil on panel. The
Joke Bungeneers (eds.), Onze-Lieve-Vrouwekathedraal van dimensions of the central panel are 241 cm x 191 cm; the wings
Antwerpen : kunstpatrimonium van het Ancien Regime, Turnhout are 4 x (246 cm x 85 cm).
2.
2.
Frans Francken the Elder
Triptych of the schoolmasters
and soapboilers, 1587
Cathedral of Our Lady,
Antwerp
3. 3.
Marten de Vos
Triptych of Saint James, 1594
Church of Saint James,
Antwerp
Francken received. Indeed, we note a significant difference between the various paint-
ers’ prices. However, the chronology fails to show an evolution towards higher rates:
both lower and higher rates co-existed in both periods. The average for the period
1587-97 was 34.2 Car. guilders/m2 and 56.3 Car. guilders/m2 for the period 1598-1609.
We need to keep in mind, however, that the rates for the second period were substan-
tially influenced by the two painted altarpieces of Otto van Veen so that any additional
data about other painters who were active in this period would probably decrease this
rate. Were the largest altarpieces the most expensive? A comparison between dimen-
sions and rate/m2 shows that there were significant price differences between the vari-
ous painters. Van Veen’s altarpiece of 1607 was clearly huge and expensive, but this
was not the case for Ambrosius Francken’s or Marten de Vos’s paintings. Thus, size
did matter, but not always, because the format did not automatically determine the
price.
Could the prices have been influenced by the patron’s budget? The interaction
between painters and clients, and the context in which prices were set, were important
because an altarpiece is part of a representational strategy and stresses the piety, pres-
ence, power, and demonstrative consumption, and thus serves as social and religious
capital.18 In fact, the altarpiece served a dual role: it was representative of both the
painter and the patron. A high-profile religious commission for the artist could kindle
the interest of private patrons, while a patron could use the painting to establish or
confirm his own reputation.
Some of the guilds, when comparing all of the patrons between 1587-1609, seem to
have been able to pay the highest prices, as shown in table 1/5. But early modern
guilds were a far from homogeneous group. The poorer guilds had to make a larger
effort than the richer guilds (such as the brewers, mercers, vintners and militias) to
secure a commission. The rich and prestigious guilds, such as the militias, clearly
wanted to show off their wealth and status, and they were prepared to pay for it. It is
not surprising that one of the richest and most prestigious guilds in Antwerp, the mer-
cers, ordered a large and expensive altarpiece for their altar in the Cathedral of Our
Lady and were willing to pay Van Veen the highest rates at the time.19 The financial
sway of the churches, on the other hand, varied according to their ability to collect
money. In the case of Van Veen’s altarpiece for the church of Saint Andrew, King Philip
II ensured an exceptionally high rate for the time by generously sponsoring the piece.
But the prices quoted in documents do not always cover all: some things were not
written down. Friendships, or the promise of extra commissions from the same patron
also had an impact on the price. In other cases, gifts such as beer or gloves may have
accompanied the payment.20
Many a painter seems to have adjusted his price depending on the financial circum-
stances of his patron. Ambrosius Francken is an interesting case in point: in 1609, the
Poor masters of his native town of Herentals paid a rate of 21 Car. guilders/m2, while
that same year the probably somewhat richer church fabric of Saint James Church in
Antwerp paid 36.8 Car. guilders/m2 for the completion of their existing altarpiece with
wings. One could argue that the number of figures was perhaps important as an indica-
tor, but based on the sample, there is not enough conclusive evidence to determine
this.21 While the altarpieces of the Francken brothers and De Vos are often overcrowd-
ed, and intricately worked out down to the details of clothes and accessories, Van
Veen’s altarpiece for Antwerp’s Church of Saint Andrew is also filled with bystanders,
so that neither the number of figures, nor the intricacy of the details can explain the
significant price difference (fig. 4). Famous painters could demand higher prices than
lesser-known painters and the wealthiest patrons sought out the most famous painters.
As far as one can tell, it seems that there was – certainly in the years before Otto van
Veen – an unspoken norm of what was paid for painted altarpieces. When the asking
price was too high, noone would pay the price; when the price was too low, there was no
advantage or prestige involved for the patron. Based on this set of 15 references from
the period 1587-1609, the ‘average’ price –if one may call it so- for an altarpiece would
be less than 500 Car. guilders, a reasonable rate for the client and keeping its balance
between the tangible and intangible costs. When one realises that an average altar-
piece could take up to three to four months to complete, plus preparation time and
meetings, alterations, and keeping in mind that the going wages for a trained journey-
man between 1595 and 1600 were 24 stuivers per day, the profit margins for these mas-
ter painters were unexceptional.22
4.
Otto van Veen

Martyrdom of Saint Andrew, 1599
Church of Saint Andrew, Antwerp
5.
Gheringh
Interior of Saint Walburga church with Rubens’s triptych of the Raising of the Cross, after 1613
Saint Paul’s Church, Antwerp
Prices of painted altarpieces in the first half of the seventeenth century:

The cases of Peter Paul Rubens and Gaspar de Crayer
The political and economic situation in the Southern Netherlands stabilised some-
what in the years after 1609 due to the Twelve-Year Truce.23 One factor that contributed
to the recovery of the luxury market was the reestablishment of a strong Catholic
Church. Various religious orders also returned to the city by the century’s end and new
ones had established themselves there.24 They all needed various objects and accesso-
ries for their religious services and the practice of their faith. Prior to 1600, the secular
clergy and the guilds were the most important patrons, while after 1600, many com-
missions came in from rich regular orders such as the Jesuits, and the Benedictines
who commissioned altarpieces for their churches.25 Rubens secured many commis-
sions from these new orders as well as from the more traditional ones. They commis-
sioned altarpieces in the spirit of a triumphant Catholicism.
Little research has been done on Rubens’s prices.26 Julius Held briefly studied the
topic for the Cardiff Cartoons in 1983, and compared the prices in correlation with
scale.27
Rubens’s correspondence and related documents give us some idea of how the
artist worked and how he thought about price and value. An often quoted letter by
Rubens, to Dudley Carleton, dated 1 June 1618 seems especially relevant and enlight-
ening on the issue of price-setting: ‘As for the measurements, which proved somewhat
less than you had expected, I did my best, taking the dimensions according to the
measure current in this country. But you may be sure that this slight difference has no
effect upon the price. For one evaluates pictures differently from tapestries. The latter
are purchased by measure, while the former are valued according to their excellence,
their subject, and number of figures’.28 A letter from Rubens’ good friend Balthasar
Moretus to the Flemish merchant Jean van Vucht dated 25 June 1630, reads: ‘I have
communicated your wish to him [Rubens], but have not found means to make him
state a price. Indeed, I have often employed him but I have never been able to make an
agreement. […] However, for 200 or 250 florins, he does not do much, unless you are
content with a composition with one or two figures’.29 On 31 August, Moretus wrote
another letter to Van Vucht: ‘I openly spoke to Mr. Rubens about the price of 100 patta-
cons which you want to spend. He answered that none of the three subjects could be
done under 200 pattacons as they are too much work. But if you want to have a Diana
with two nymphs or some other subject with two or three figures, he would happily
furnish this for the aforementioned 100 pattacons’.30 The matter was resolved slowly,
and another letter from Moretus to Van Vucht dated 22 October of the same year states
that: ‘If you are content with a painting of 3 or 4 figures, he will execute one for you in
any format you wish for 100 pattacons’.’31
But are Rubens’s altarpieces with more figures really more expensive than those
with fewer? The triptych Raising of the Cross at 2,600 Car. guilders shows ten full fig-
ures, 11 half figures and six heads (fig. 5). The Miraculous Draught of Fishes at 1,600
Car. guilders includes 11 full figures, four half figures and four heads, while the Mira-
cles of Francis Xavier, 100 Car. Guilders cheaper, includes six full figures, one half fig-
ure and 13 heads, and is also smaller. These ‘inconsistencies’ show that one must be
careful when extrapolating information from correspondence. In the case of the 1618
Carleton letter, Rubens was probably writing about another category of paintings alto-
gether: mythological pieces for the private market segment of connoisseurs.32 O’ Mal-
ley is clear in this respect regarding Italian altarpieces: ‘The commonly held idea that
the number of figures painted on a work strongly influences its price is largely derived
from a few letters and evaluation documents [...]’.33
A letter written by Rubens to Gortzius Geldorp in London on 25 July 1637 concern-
ing the Martyrdom of Saint Peter (Cologne, Cathedral of Saint Peter) notes that: ‘As
regards time, I must have a year and a half, in order to be able to serve your friend with
care and convenience. As for the subject, it would be best to choose it according to the
size of the picture; for there are subjects which are better treated in a large space, and
others which call for medium or small proportions. [...] Nevertheless, I leave the
choice to the one who will pay the expenses, as soon as we know how large the picture
is to be’.34 Prices were, in some cases, agreed upon before the painter begun his work,
as was the case for the paintings for the Salón Nuevo in the Royal Palace in Madrid.35
But procedures varied. A letter of 12 May 1618 shows how Rubens affably wrote to
Carleton: ‘[I] would always refer the price to the arbitration of any discerning person’.36
What can we say about ‘excellence’, the first thing Rubens listed in the above-men-
tioned letter of 1618, in terms of determining the price of an artwork? A letter from
Toby Matthew to Dudley Carleton on 25 November 1620 states: ‘I did with all my dis-
cretion, deale with him [Rubens] about the price, but his demands are like the Lawes
6.
Peter Paul Rubens

Christ carrying the Cross, 1634-37
Royal Museums of Fine Arts of Belgium, Brussels
of Medes and Persians, which cannot be altered. … I see it helps him to be unreason-
able’.37 Although this passage does not refer specifically to his altarpieces, and shows
how royal clients always haggled for a better deal and reacted disapprovingly when their
hopes for a good deal were dashed, it also shows how Rubens was aware of his value:
excellence needs to be remunerated. The letter further states that Rubens was stubborn,
and that his prices were set and not subject to modification, which is perhaps somewhat
exaggerated, as we shall see. However, Rubens was a prudent man and a hard bargainer
when it came to his fees. For the new Jesuit church in Antwerp, Rubens made the 39
ceiling paintings and two altarpieces, which depicted the Miracles of Ignatius of Loyola
and the Miracles of Francis Xavier. The contract dating 29 March 1620 stated that if the
sum of 7,000 and 3,000 Car. guilders respectively were not fully paid on the appointed
day, the Jesuit order was to pay the artist an annual rent of 6,25 per cent of the amount,
or 625 Car. guilders, until the amount was paid.38
The following selection of 22 altarpieces (see table 2/1) by Rubens and his studio, for
which archival sources have yielded prices, serves as a first case study and will allow us
to make some preliminary conclusions about Rubens’s prices. What can we deduce
from these 22 examples? The paintings, produced during the period 1610-38, ranged in
price from 300 to 2,600 Car. guilders, as can be seen in table 2/2. Added together, we
come up with the staggering 27,080 Car. guilders. On average, 1,230.90 Car. guilders was
paid per altarpiece. In absolute terms, the highest prices were those paid in the begin-
ning of Rubens’s career after his return to Antwerp, more specifically, the 2,600 Car.
guilders in 1610-13 and 2,400 Car. guilders paid in 1615. If one divides Rubens’s Ant-
werp career into three decades, the average real (adjusted) prices for the period 1610-19
were 1,650 Car. guilders; in the years 1620-29 they decreased to 816.20 Car. guilders and
for the period 1630-38, they increased to 1,140 Car. guilders. On the dimensions, infor-
mation exists for 21 of the 22 altarpieces: they range from 2.5 to 62.7 m2 (see table 2/3).
The average dimension per altarpiece in our sample for the period 1610-19 is 27.7 m2;
in the period 1620-29 it decreases to 10.2 m2, and a little more during the period
1630-38, down to 9.8 m2. These altarpieces – at least as far as for our sample – do not
increase in size as we approach the end of Rubens’s career, on the contrary: in absolute
size, the largest works are the two famous triptychs of the Raising and Descent from the
Cross, which he made in the first decade upon his return to Antwerp.
An important typological change occurred during the second decade of the seven-
teenth century, as the triptych format with wings, backs of wings, a (winged) predella
and other elements (such as frontons) painted on panels evolved into the portico altar-
piece, consisting of one large slab-like canvas.39 Although these later altarpieces feel
and look monumental, one has to keep in mind that they were single canvasses with an
actual smaller painted surface. The Raising of the cross is three times as large as the larg-
est of the monumental ‘single slab’ altarpieces, such as Christ carrying the cross for the
abbey in Affligem (fig. 6).
For 21 of the 22 altarpieces, there is information on the evolution of the rate per
square meter (see Table 2/4). The rate ranges from 24.70 to 250 Car. guilders/m2. Some
altarpieces measuring c. 12 m2 cost 300 Car. guilders, but the price could go up to 1,500
Car. guilders. Larger sizes in sé did not automatically imply a higher price. The large dif-
ference in rates proves that his prices were not based solely on size. The average rate as a
whole is 88.90 Car. guilders/m2. The average rate for the period 1610-19 is 68.10 Car.
guilders/m2; for the period 1620-29 it rose to 80 Car. guilders/m2, and towards the end of
Rubens’s career, during the years 1630-38, it increased to 138 Car. guilders/m2, or nearly
double the rate of the earlier period. Concerning the price trend of Rubens’s altarpieces,
* ‘f’ : full figures; h: half length figures; H: heads. 4), vol. 2, pp. 313-314, no. 465; support unknown; the painting’s
# some rates/m2 have been rounded. dimensions are 239 cm x 187 cm. Although no image of the work
23 J. Richard Judson, Rubens. The Passion of Christ, Corpus exists, an old description by Mensaert conveys the composition.
Rubenianum Ludwig Burchard. 6, Turnhout 2000 pp. 88-122; 34 Publication of this group forthcoming in the Corpus
no. 20-28. Oil on panel; the dimensions of the central panel are Rubenianum-series. See Marcel de Maeyer, Albrecht en Isabella
460 cm x 340 cm; the wings are 4 x (462 cm x 150 cm), totalling en de schilderkunst: Bijdrage tot de geschiedenis van de XVIIe-
43.3 m2. There was also a depiction of God the Father (place of eeuwse schilderkunst in de Zuidelijke Nederlanden, Brussels 1955,
preservation unknown), measuring ca 157 x 124 cm. pp. 119-120, 407. Support unknown. The dimensions are known:
24 Roger-Adolf d’Hulst and Marc Vandenven, Rubens. The it was 8,5 ft high and 8,5 ft large, or 234 cm x 234 cm.
Old Testament, Corpus Rubenianum Ludwig Burchard. 3, New 35 Publication of this group forthcoming in the Corpus
York 1989 pp. 170-187, no. 54-56. Support presumably panel. Rubenianum-series. See de Maeyer, Albrecht en Isabella (note 13),
Dimensions unknown. pp. 119-120, 407. Support unknown. The dimensions however, are
25 Judson, Rubens (note 1), pp. 162-190, no. 43-46; Max known: it was 8 ft high and 10,5 ft large, or 220 cm x 288,7 cm.
Rooses, ‘De Afdoening van het Kruis, uit het rekeningboek der 36 Freedberg, Rubens, The Life of Christ after the Passion (note
Antwerpsche Kolveniersgilde’, Rubens Bulletijn 5 (1910), pp. 231- 10), pp. 110, no. 28; de Maeyer, Albrecht en Isabella (note 13),
233. Oil on panel. The dimensions of the central part are 421 cm p. 119-120, 407. Support unknown. The dimensions are known: it
x 311 cm, the wings are 4 x (421 cm x 153 cm). was 10 ft high and 16 ft large, or c. 275,5 cm x c. 441 cm. Oil on
26 Publication of this group forthcoming in the Corpus canvas. Freedberg remarks upon the fact that there is discussion
Rubenianum-series. Max Rooses, L’œuvre de P.P. Rubens, Histoire about the price in the existing literature. We follow de Maeyer
et description de ses tableaux et dessins, Antwerp, 1886-1892, here.
5 vols., vol. 2 [1888], pp. 170-172, no. 358; Thomas L. Glen, Rubens 37 Freedberg, Rubens, The Life of Christ after the Passion (note
and the Counter-Reformation, Studies in his religious paintings 10), pp. 172-178, no. 43. Rooses, L’Oeuvre (note 4), vol. 2, pp. 173-
between 1609 and 1620, PhD Dissertation Princeton University 180, no. 359 ; Max Rooses, ‘ l’Assomption de la vierge; tableau du
1977, pp. 260-261, measuring according to Rooses, 423 cm x maître autel de la Cathédrale d’Anvers’, Rubens Bulletijn 1 (1882),
281 cm. Oil on panel. pp. 70-71. Oil on panel. The dimensions are: 490 cm x 325 cm.
27 Publication of this group forthcoming in the Corpus 38 Vlieghe, Saints (note 6), vol. 2, pp. 142-146, no. 140-143; oil
Rubenianum-series. Oil on panel. The dimensions of the central on canvas; the painting measures 412 cm x 258 cm. The predella
panel are measures 2 x (68 cm x 97 cm). There was also a Virgin in a
320 cm x 278 cm; the wings are 4 x (320 cm x 100 cm) with a tabernacle measuring c. 150 x ca 70 cm.
predella of 39 Judson, Rubens. The Passion of Christ, (note 1), pp. 48-52,
3 x (66 cm x 22 cm) and 2 x backs of wings (66 cm x 22 cm). The no. 6; oil on panel; the painting measures 403 cm x 250 cm.
wings of the predella are now in Marseille, Musée des Beaux-Arts; The accounts of the commission are well-preserved.
Emmanuel Neeffs, ‘L’Oeuvre de P.-P. Rubens à Malines’, Bulletin 40 Judson, Rubens. The Passion of Christ, (note 1), pp. 79-84,
de l’Académie royale des sciences, des lettres et des beaux-arts no. 19; Ulrich Heinen, ‘”A Meliori forma”. Quellenstudien zum
de Belgique, 2e série, 42 (1876), Aufträge für Rubens’ Affligemer Kreuztragung’, Jaarboek van het
pp. 214-222; Rooses, L’Oeuvre (note 4), vol. 1 [1886], pp. Koninklijk Museum voor Schone Kunsten van Antwerpen (1993),
214-216, no. 162. The dimensions are those referred to in the pp. 135-163; Natasja Peeters, Hélène Dubois and Joost Vander
Fotorepertorum van het meubilair van de Belgische bedehuizen. Auwera, ‘P.P. Rubens, De marteling van de heilige Livinus’, in:
28 Hans Vlieghe, Saints, Corpus Rubenianum Ludwig Burchard. 8, Joost Vander Auwera and Sabine Van Sprang (eds.), Rubens, een
2 vols., Brussels 1972-1973, vol. 2, 1973, pp. 73-74, no. 115; oil on genie aan het werk, Rondom de Rubenswerken in de Koninklijke
canvas. The painting’s dimensions are 535 cm x 395 cm. Musea voor Schone Kunsten van België, Brussels (Royal Museums
Vlieghe, Saints (note 6), vol. 2, pp. 26-29, no. 104; oil on canvas. of Fine Art) 2007 (exh. cat.), pp. 196-200. The painting measures
The painting’s dimensions are 535 cm x 395 cm. 569 cm x 355 cm. Oil on canvas.
29 Vlieghe, Saints (note 6), vol. 1, pp. 156-159, no. 102; oil on 41 Vlieghe, Saints (note 6), vol. 2, pp. 137-140, no. 139; oil on
panel. The painting’s dimensions are 420 cm x 225 cm. canvas; the painting measures 310 cm x 170 cm.
30 Publication of this group forthcoming in the Corpus 42 Vlieghe, Saints (note 6), vol. 2, pp. 131-132, no. 137; oil on
Rubenianum-series. Neeffs, L’Oeuvre de P.-P. Rubens (note 5), canvas; the dimensions are unknown, but according to Vlieghe
pp. 208-214; Rooses, L’Oeuvre (note 4), vol. 2, pp. 19-21, no. 245; the painting measures c. 420 cm x c. 270 cm. There is also a
oil on panel. The central panel measures 301 cm x 235 cm, the preparatory oil sketch (U.S. private collection), which gives an
wings 4 x (301 cm x 106 cm), a presumably lost predella measures idea of the composition, see Julius Held, The oil sketches of Peter
3 x (75 cm x 40 cm). The predella did not return to Mechelen after Paul Rubens. A critical catalogue, 2 vols., Princeton 1980, vol. 1,
1794. The dimensions are those from the Fotorepertorum van het no. 423.
meubilair van de Belgische bedehuizen. 43 A description by Mols serves to give us an idea about the
31 David Freedberg, Rubens, The Life of Christ after the Passion, composition: ‘heilige, beul, achter hem krijgsvolk waarvan men
Corpus Rubenianum Ludwig Burchard. 7, New York 1984, pp. de hoofden en weinig lichaam zag; daarvoor nog vrouwen en
103-108, no. 27; Glen, Rubens and the Counter-Reformation kinderen ten halven lijven; verder engelen uit de hemel’, in: J. de
(note 4), p. 290; Rooses, L’Oeuvre (note 4), vol. 2, pp. 163-164, Wit, De kerken van Antwerpen [1748], met aantekeningen van
no. 353; Konrad Renger, Peter Paul Rubens, Altäre für Bayern, P.J.J. Mols [1774], bewerkt door J. de Bosschere, Antwerpen 1910
München Alte Pinakothek 1990, pp. 39ff; the painting’s dimensions [1919].
according to Freedberg are: 470 cm x 273 cm. Oil on canvas. 44 Vlieghe, Saints (note 6), vol. 2, pp. 104-105, no. 125; oil on
32 Publication of this group forthcoming in the Corpus canvas; the painting measures 191 cm x 134 cm.
Rubenianum-series. Rooses, L’Oeuvre (note 4), vol. 1, pp. 190-
194, no. 149. Oil on canvas. Renger, Peter Paul Rubens, (note 10),
p. 39ff; the painting’s dimensions are 475 cm x 270 cm.
33 Vlieghe, Saints (note 6), vol. 2 (1973), pp. 102-104, no. 124.
According to Rooses, the work is identical to a painting formerly
in the collection Munro, sold in London in 1878, an identification
to which we will stick for the moment. Rooses, L’Oeuvre (note
it is remarkable that a change occurred around c. 1630. The altarpieces of Rubens’s

late period (1630-38) have nearly doubled in price per square meter (1.86x) over the
rates in his earlier years. Keeping in mind that Rubens’s earliest altarpieces were
painted on much more expensive oak panels, this increase is even more remarkable.
Rubens was clearly demanding higher fees as time went on. The highest rate was
indeed paid at the end of his career, for the now lost Martyrdom of Saint Paul and the
Martyrdom of Saint Peter (respectively 132.20 and 250 Car. guilders/m2), with this last
commission being ten times as high as the lowest rate paid for Rubens’ altarpieces in
this sample, the lost Descent of the Holy spirit for the archdukes, at 24.70 Car. guilders/
m2. Although his famous triptychs of the Raising of the Cross and Descent from the Cross
are very expensive in absolute terms, there was a lot of surface to cover as well and the
rates charged shows that both were below the average of the first sub-period. This
means that Rubens’s patrons at that time certainly got their money’s worth!
Surprisingly, contrary to Rubens’ own statement (see above), that the number of
figures in a painting mattered when setting the price, when one actually counts the full
figures, half figures and heads per painting, the exercise does not reveal anything con-
clusive regarding the relation of numbers of figures to the price of an altarpiece. It is
certainly not true that paintings with fewer figures cost less than those with more.
There is a correlation in the sense that the larger the altarpiece, the more figures could
be painted on the picture plane. But it seems that although it is impossible to deter-
mine how much Rubens adhered to his own above stated dictum for profane works or
paintings for the private market, for altarpieces it is clear that other aspects contribut-
ed to the price. Of the 22 altarpieces we are concerned with here, eight (perhaps nine)
were on panel, the remaining were painted on canvas. Panel was still used frequently
in the period prior to 1620 but due to the monumental portico-altar setting, the lighter
canvas began replacing wood in the early 1620s. But Rubens charged both high and
lower rates, regardless of whether the altarpiece was on panel or on canvas: the raw
material of the support was apparently not important when establishing a price.
The money for the large religious commissions which Rubens and his studio exe-
cuted came from various sources, as shown in table 2/5: religious institutions, royalty,
private donors, church hierarchies and city councils and, to a lesser extent, guilds.
Prices were certainly influenced by the patron’s wealth: rich orders like the Jesuits and
the Benedictines were able to spend more money on their commissions than the more
ascetic orders. Rubens’s personal relationship with various patrons also influenced
pricing, such as was the case for the Count-Duke of Neuburg, who had a well-stocked
treasury, and thus paid 1,500 Car. guilders for each altar for the Jesuit Church at Neu-
burg. The three religious patrons in this sample paid the highest average rate of 206.90
Car. guilders/m2, followed by the six private patrons (94.60 Car. guilders/m2), royalty
(84.50 Car. guilders/m2), the various religious orders (73.80 Car. guilders/m2), the
guilds (59 Car. guilders/m2) and finally the brotherhoods (38.70 Car. guilders/m2).
Interestingly, while some paintings that were made for the archdukes seemed to have
been significantly cheaper, one needs to take into consideration the larger context of
these royal commissions: one should not forget that Rubens also earned a yearly salary
of 500 Flemish pounds or 3,000 Car. guilders from 1610 onwards, when he became a
court painter to the archdukes.40 Apparently, Rubens was also willing to make some
concessions for certain patrons. A letter dated 22 October 1630 from Moretus to Van
Vucht clarifies some things: ‘Concerning Mr. Rubens, he willingly acts out of friend-
ship, provided it does not do him any harm’.41
The price could also vary according to the level of studio participation and the
amount of work done by studio collaborators, independent masters or journeymen.42
Kerry Downes wrote a short answer on Held’s article in 1983 about the influence of
workshop collaboration on prices: ‘We may assume that Rubens’s prices increased
along with his reputation. However, other variations in price may not have depended
solely on the degree of studio participation’.43 A well-known letter from Rubens to
Carleton dated 12 May 1618, informs us that the pieces retouched by himself were
barely distinguishable from originals (at least according to the master himself) but
priced at a somewhat lower rate (see Introduction and p. 41 above).44 This could also
account for some of the ‘lower’ prices in our sample.45 The art historian Zirka Z. Filipc-
zak has pointed out that Rubens: ‘…achieved this unprecedentedly high income with-
out charging inordinately high prices. […] yet his rates were not exceptionally high: a
comparison of payments for large, multi-figured triptychs illustrates that Rubens’s
prices often matched those that had been paid to the best artists of the previous cen-
tury’.46 This was indeed the case up to the end of the 1620s, but after that, Rubens’s
rates certainly soared and as we remarked earlier, and actually doubled when com-
pared to the earlier years.
Why this great leap? Perhaps the answer can be found in Rubens’s artistic life cycle.
Perhaps Rubens needed his income from altarpiece-commissions much less than he
did at the beginning of his career and he may have considered them less challenging
artistically, than he would have c. 1615. At the beginning of his career, the altarpieces
probably functioned as a calling card, to entice other patrons, something which he
didn’t have to bother with in later years. The high demand for his works also pushed
his prices up. He was so in demand that even with a studio full of assistants behind
him, he could not accept all the commissions that came his way. One also needs to
take into consideration that, although Rubens was still a ‘craftsman’, his collection of
noble titles, his castle and his way of life certainly justified higher rates. In his later
years, he turned to the freedom of creation in landscapes, and he may have found his
designs for projects such as Torre de la Parada, the small palatial hunting lodge for
Philip IV in Madrid, intellectually more rewarding than churning out altarpieces.
One thing is certain: painting was a profitable business for Rubens. The Antwerp
tapestry dealer and humanist Francis Sweerts mentioned rather enviously to John
Gruterus on 18 July 1618: ‘This Rubens earns 100 guilders every day’.47 This seems an
enormous amount. Indeed, multiplied by 250 work days per year, this amounts to
25,000 Car. guilders per year. Rubens’s income from commissions, rent and real estate,
sales of gems, prints, royal pensions and gifts and miscellaneous sources could have
well resulted in an income of this size. As a comparison, a summer day’s wage for a
qualified mason’s journeyman after 1605 was 24 stuivers, and his annual wage was
some 300 Car. guilders.48 But Rubens also had countless expenses: his house, the
household staff, pupils, collaborators, assistants, materials, decoration and the art
works he purchased himself, his travels, not to mention his growing family. Sweerts
wrote to Gruterus on 18 July 1618 that Rubens had spent 24,000 Car. guilders on his
house.49 The money from the great triptychs must certainly have come in handy. Near
the end of his life, his beautiful townhouse seemed a ‘minor’ asset compared to his
castle, the Steen, near Mechelen, which, upon his death, was estimated at c. 100,000
Car. guilders.50 Rubens total assets at the time of his death in May 1640 were difficult
to estimate, but were probably around 150,000 Car. Guilders, without even counting
his real estate.51
Rubens was a gifted, highly professional and well-organised painter with an excel-
lent reputation, who could deliver speedily and produce high quality works. Balthasar
Moretus indirectly alludes to this when he wrote somewhat condescendingly to Philip
of Peralta that the less refined and discerning would be better served by a less able and
cheaper painter than Rubens.52 The monks at the abbey of Saint Winoksbergen
seemed to be proof of Moretus’s point. In 1611, they commissioned Rubens to paint a
Last Supper for them and agreed on a price of 4,000 Car. guilders, an astronomically
high sum for this early period. The artist had already made his preparations according
to the measures given, when suddenly his patrons decided to back out and offer the
commission to the lesser-known painter Lucas Floquet.53 On 6 September 1611, a dis-
mayed Jan le Grand wrote to Lieven Vuytten Eeckhoutte at Dunkirk: ‘They came up
with a painter from Ghent who is an impostor, and they are looking for the best deal.
I lament that the lords of Berghen shall end up being really cheated’.54
Filipczak declared that: ‘In general, Rubens’s prices were the same as those
charged by his most esteemed Flemish contemporaries, though occasionally they
increased up to roughly double that amount’.55 Is this really true? Rubens’s rates for
the period 1609-29 are lower than the rates charged by his former master Otto van
Veen and by Marten de Vos in some cases. To compare, we shall briefly analyse the
prices of Gaspar de Grayer, and add a short note on Anthony van Dyck.
For De Crayer, we took a sample of seven altarpieces on canvas commissioned
between 1622 and 1665, a period of 43 years (see table 3). In general, De Crayer’s
patrons were less affluent than those of Rubens: local churches, small town churches,
and smaller orders, with less international standing than Rubens’s clients. It should
thus not come as a surprise that De Crayer’s prices were lower than Rubens’s. They
fluctuate between c. 150 and 500 Car. guilders; with an average price of 339.80 Car.
guilders. One needs to keep in mind that, in some cases, only a portion of the actual
payment was recorded, so the average was probably somewhat higher. Rubens dips
under this average price only three times in our sample, while De Crayer’s highest
price in our sample (500 Car. Guilders), was equal to one of Rubens’s cheaper altar-
pieces in our sample. De Crayer’s altarpiece sizes fluctuate between 4.2 m2 and 10.4 m2,
and remain well below Rubens’s sizes. The rates fluctuate between c. 14.40 Car. guil-
ders/m2 and 108.60 Car. guilders/m2; this is an average rate of 62.10 Car. guilders/m2.
Although, by the end of his career, his Assumption of the Virgin for the church of Saint
Walburga at Oudenaarde fetched more than Rubens’s average commission in the early
part of his career, De Crayer’s prices remained well below Rubens’s average rate of
88.90 Car. guilders/m2, all of which adds some nuances to Filipczak’s statement. De
Crayer’s rates are higher than the general rate received by artists during the period
1585-1607, however. De Crayer – contrary to what historiography wants us to believe
– enjoyed a good reputation as a painter, but his somewhat eclectic altarpieces were no
match for Rubens’s power of invention, and consequently, neither were his prices.56
A final and brief note concerns Antony van Dyck, who, according to Vlieghe,
received between 500 and 800 Car. guilders for his paintings in the period 1627-32,
although more research is necessary to formulate a more complete view. Van Dyck’s
Ghent Crucifixion (Ghent, Church of Saint Michael) was supposedly his most expen-
* ‘f’ : full figures; h: half length figures; H: heads.

45 Hans Vlieghe, Gaspar de Crayer, sa vie et ses oeuvres, 2
vols., Brussels 1972, vol. 1, pp. 86-87, no. A11; oil on canvas. The
dimensions are: 242 cm x 188 cm.
46 Vlieghe, Gaspar de Crayer (note 1), vol. 1, pp. 91-92, no. A15;
oil on canvas. The dimensions are: 382 cm x 273 cm.
47 Vlieghe, Gaspar de Crayer (note 1), vol. 1, pp. 135-136, no. A72;
oil on canvas. The dimensions are: 279 cm x 201 cm.
48 Vlieghe, Gaspar de Crayer (note 1), vol. 1, pp. 185-186, no.
A138; oil on canvas. The dimensions are: c. 360 cm x c. 240 cm.
49 Vlieghe, Gaspar de Crayer (note 1), vol. 1, pp. 191, no. A145;
oil on canvas. The dimensions are: 300 cm x 218 cm. The total
sum is higher, as a preliminary payment should be added to the
serparate sums.
oil on canvas. The dimensions are: c. 250 cm x c. 170 cm.
oil on canvas. The dimensions are: c. 260 cm x c. 180 cm.
sive painting at 800 Car. guilders.57 For the Sodality of the Jesuits in Antwerp he paint-
ed the exceptionally beautiful Vision of the Blessed Herman Joseph (Vienna, Kunsthis-
torisches Museum) for ‘a mere’ 150 Car. Guilders, but as Van Dyck was himself a mem-
ber of the sodality, this probably had an influence on the asking price.58 In any case,
Van Dyck’s prices could not compete with Rubens’s, a fact which Toby Matthew
explains in a postscript to a letter of 25 November 1620: ‘he [van Dyck] will make a
much better piece [...] for half the money he [Rubens] asks’.59
Undoubtedly, more research on other seventeenth-century painters of altarpieces,
such as Theodoor van Loon, may help put Rubens, an exceptional painter with excep-
tional prices, into a broader context.
Conclusion
What determined the price of a painted altarpiece? This sample shows that it is not
easy to reconstruct the mechanism behind the setting of a price, and that some
aspects are difficult to quantify. It has, above all, shown that no single explanation suf-
fices.60 The pricing of altarpiece paintings does not always have a clear rational or
material-based explanation. For the late sixteenth century, it seems that the ‘average’
price was somewhere below 500 Car. guilders with only a few exceptions. The same
can be said for the seventeenth century.61
Other than the tangible aspects such as support, pigments and working hours,
intangible factors also played a significant role. This essay has shown that various eco-
nomic, social and religious factors, such as relationships, honour, conspicuous reli-
gious consumption, piety, a sponsor’s financial means, and the reputation of the artist
were important factors that could influence the price. These intangible aspects help
explain the price differences between seemingly similar paintings, and the price dif-
ferences within the career of one painter.
While Van Veen headed the group of painters up to 1609, Rubens was without
doubt the most expensive Southern Netherlandish painter of altarpieces in the first
half of the seventeenth century. The essay testifies, above all, to Rubens’s exceptional
status. Intangible aspects in his case contributed much more to the surplus value of
the altarpiece than sheer material costs per square meter or the number of figures ren-
dered. Although Rubens indicated in correspondence that the prices of his paintings
were based on the number of figures rendered, we proved that there was no correla-
tion for the altarpieces.
The market mechanism of high demand and a supply to match, operated in
Rubens’ favour and allowed Rubens’s to operate a large studio. It seems a sobering
thought that Rubens’s brand name was indiscriminately applied to the many paint-
ings of lesser quality that left his studio. However, this serves as further testimony to
Rubens’s entrepreneurial acumen and sound commercial instincts. He certainly
gained something by using other hands besides his own, as Julius Held already noted
in the case of Rembrandt: ‘...should we not keep in mind that even if they (referring
specifically to ‘those works now banished to the no-man’s land of anonymity’ but
accepted as by Rembrandt in earlier times) are now recognized as the achievements of
some gifted followers, they, too, contribute to and enrich our image of the master’s
range?’.62 Indeed, the demand for Rubens’s paintings was so high that his patrons and
clients usually put up with workshop collaboration as long as the Rubens brand pre-
vailed visually and artistically. However, there were exceptions and not everyone put up
with this, such as is noted in a letter from Trumbull to Carleton written on 8 December
1620: ‘… it is not woorth the monney whereat it is prised; because little, or nothing, of
it is donne with the said Rubens his owne hande’.63 Although some worried about the
workshop image and the ‘authenticity’ of his paintings, most of the time, Rubens
seems to have gotten away with it. For Rubens, the workshop copy was simply the ‘best
deal’ for a customer: ‘well re-touched copies […] show more for their price’, which is
how Rubens had explained it in a in a letter to Carleton on 12 May, 1618,64 and: ‘... if
the picture had been painted entirely by my own hand, it would be well worth twice as
much’, as Rubens wrote to Trumbull on 26 January 1621.65 Undoubtedly, this situation
was profitable for both painter and patron and obviously, Rubens’s paintings, even
when excecuted by his studio, apparently still managed to provide the buyer with
something extra that most of the other painters could not supply.
Between Rubens and his patrons there was certainly great mutual attraction. As
Nils Büttner pointedly remarked, Rubens’s correspondence with his patrons read like
a Who’s Who of the times.66 His altarpieces were calling cards for the richer orders such
as the Benedictines, but also, surprisingly, for more ascetic orders such as the Car-
melites.67 Apart from those, there were orders so powerful and rich that they did not
even need to permanently expose the altarpiece they commissioned from Rubens. The
high altar of the Ghent Jesuit Church was decorated according to a system of rotation
in which certain altarpieces were visible during certain periods of the liturgical year.
Rubens’s Martyrdom of St. Livinus was displayed during the saint’s octave (the period
of eight days with which the celebration of the saint’s feast day can be extended), from
12 to 19 November.68 For the remaining 357 days of the year one of the two alternating
altarpieces by De Crayer and Van Loon was on view on the high altar. This arrange-
ment can be taken as a supreme example of ‘conspicuous investment’.69
Without doubt, Rubens’s rates are exceptional in the context of what others were
able to charge on average. Intelligence of composition, disposition of figures, storyline
and the creative genius of Rubens added to the price. But Rubens’s prices were more
related to his reputation, and the ‘excellence’ he held so dear, than to the costs of
materials, numbers of figures and canvas sizes. But real excellence had its price. As
Balthasar Moretus noted in a letter to Philip of Peralta on 9 April 1615: “We imitate
here a distinguished painter such as we have in Antwerp in the person of Rubens. He
sends the less competent connoisseurs to a lesser and thus cheaper artist. He himself
is not lacking in buyers for his excellent and more expensive paintings.”.70
* Max Rooses and Charles Ruelens, Correspondance Gelder, The Hague 1973, pp. 132- 134.
de Rubens et documents épistolaires concernant sa 2 Juan Luis Vives Valentini, Opera Omnia,
vie et ses oeuvres (Codex Diplomaticus Valencia 1782, vol. 1, pp. 391-392 : ‘Dürer: Facessite
Rubenianus), 6 vols., Antwerp 1887-1909, vol. 6 hic, nam vos nihil emitis, sat scio; et estis mihi
[1909], pp. 258-260 (letter DCCCLXXXXIII, letter of impedimento, quominus accedant emptores
Balthasar Gerbier to Inigo Jones, Brussels, 24 proprius./Grynius: Immo vero nos columus emere,
March 1640). The author wishes to thank Joost modo vel precium relinquas nostro arbitratu, et
Vander Auwera for the opportunity to study tempus ipse praescribas, aut contra, nos tempus,
Rubens’s work in the Royal Museums of Fine Arts tu precium./ Durer: Bella negotiatio, mihi nihil est
of Belgium in Brussels in the context of the Rubens opus tricis ejusmodi.’
Research Project (2004-2008). I also wish to thank 3 Vives Valentini, Opera Omnia (note 2), pp.
Johan Dambruyne, Nils Büttner and Hans van 391-392: ‘Velius: Occipitium vellem videre / Durer:
Miegroet for their advice. Verte tabulam.’
1 Ernst Gombrich, ‘Dürer, Vives and Bruegel’, 4 On ‘cultural economics’, a field which has seen
in: Josua Bruyn (ed.), Album Amicorum J.G. Van much development over the past two decades, see
David Throsby, ‘The production and consumption Jaarboek van het Koninklijk Museum voor Schone
of the Arts: A view of cultural economics’, Journal of Kunsten van Antwerpen (1976), pp. 197-244; Natasja
Economic Literature 32 (1994), pp. 1-29; Neil De Peeters, ‘Frans I and Ambrosius I Francken, painters
Marchi and Hans Van Miegroet, ‘Art, Value, and of the metropolis Antwerp, and their altarpieces in
Market Practices in the Netherlands in the the years just after the fall of Antwerp (1585-1589)’,
Seventeenth century’, The Art Bulletin 76 (1994), Jaarboek van het Koninklijk Museum voor Schone
pp. 451-461; Toon Van Houdt, ‘The economics of Kunsten van Antwerpen (2003), pp. 69-91.
Art in Early Modern Times: Some Humanist and 8 In this respect, the sample used for this
Scholastic Approaches’, in Neil De Marchi and contribution is random and dictated by the
Craufurd D.W. Goodwin (eds.), Economic availability of material.
Engagements with Art, London 1999, pp. 303-331; 9 For the changing appearance of early
For the Northern Netherlands, see Marten-Jan Bok, seventeenth-century altarpieces see: Natasja
‘Pricing the unpriced: How Dutch Seventeenth- Peeters, ‘Rubens’ altaarstukken, in de Koninklijke
century Painters determined the Selling Price of Musea voor Schone Kunsten van België’, in: Joost
their Work’, in: Michael North and David Ormrod Vander Auwera and Sabine Van Sprang (eds.),
(eds.), Art markets in Europe, 1400-1800, Aldershot Rubens, een genie aan het werk, Rondom de
1998, pp. 103-111. Rubenswerken in de Koninklijke Musea voor
5 Studies of merchant’s interventions in export Schone Kunsten van België, Brussels (Royal
sales prices (such as the fascinating Musson- Museums of Fine Arts) 2007 (exh. cat.), pp. 157-159.
Fourmenois case), and studies of rich patrons such 10 Armin Zweite, Marten de Vos als Maler, Berlin
as Van Valckenisse, Van der Geest, Stevens, 1980; Natasja Peeters, Tussen continuïteit en
Rockocx, and Moretus and their influence on the vernieuwing. De bijdrage van Frans en Ambrosius
selection of themes and genres, have shed light on Francken I, en de jonge generatie Francken, tot de
their influence on the market. On the Musson- historieschilderkunst te Antwerpen ca 1570-1620,
Fourmenois case, see Neil De Marchi, Hans Van Ph.D. Dissertation Vrije Universiteit Brussels 2000
Miegroet and Matthew E. Raiff, ‘Dealer-dealer (publication forthcoming); Bob C. Van den Boogert,
Pricing in the 17th-century Antwerp-Paris Art Trade’, ‘Michiel Coxcie, hofschilder in dienst van het
Duke University, Department of Economics Working Habsburgse huis’, in: Acta van het Internationaal
Papers, number 97-20. colloquium Michiel Coxcie, Mechelen 1993,
6 Neil De Marchi and Hans Van Miegroet, pp. 119-140 [Handelingen van de Koninklijke Kring
‘Pricing invention: ‘Originals’, ‘Copies’ and their voor Oudheidkunde, Letteren en Kunst van
relative value in Seventeenth century Netherlandish Mechelen 96 (1992)]; Müller Hoftede, Zum Werke
art markets’, in: Victor A. Ginzburg and Pierre- des Otto van Veen (note 7). Anne T. Woollett has
Michel Menger (eds.), Economics of the arts, written a study on Militia Altarpieces: Anne T.
Selected essays, Amsterdam 1996, pp. 27-70. Woollett, The Altarpiece in Antwerp 1554–1612:
7 We refer to, among others: Stefaan Grieten, Painting and the Militia Guilds, Ph.D. Dissertation
‘Reconstructie van het altaarstuk van het Antwerpse Columbia University New York 2004.
meerseniersambacht. Nieuwe gegevens over Otto 11 Peter Humfrey, The Altarpiece in Renaissance
van Veen, Erasmus II Quellinus en Balthazar Italy, Oxford 1988; Peter Humfrey and Martin Kemp
Beschey’, Jaarboek van het Koninklijk Museum voor (eds.), The altarpiece in the Renaissance,
Schone Kunsten van Antwerpen (1995), pp. 137-141; Cambridge 1990; Peter Humfrey, The Altarpiece in
Adolf Monballieu, ‘P. Bruegel en het altaar van de Renaissance Venice, New Haven 1993; Richard E.
Mechelse Handschoenmakers (1551)’, Handelingen Spear, ‘Guercino’s ‘prix-fixe’: observations on studio
van de Koninklijke Kring voor Oudheidkunde, practices and art marketing in Emilia’, The
Letteren en Kunstgeschiedenis van Mechelen 68 Burlington Magazine 136 (1994), pp. 592-602;
(1964), pp. 92-110; Adolf Monballieu, ‘De Fiorella Superbi Gioffredi and Eve Borsook, Italian
reconstructie van een drieluik van Adriaen Thomasz. Altarpieces 1250-1550, Function and design, Oxford
Key bestemd voor het hoogaltaar van de 1994; Michelle O’Malley, The Business of Art,
Antwerpse Recollettenkerk’, Jaarboek van het Contracts and the Commissioning Process in
Koninklijk Museum voor Schone Kunsten van Renaissance Italy, New Haven 2005.
Antwerpen (1971), pp. 91-105; David Freedberg, 12 O’Malley, The Business of Art (note 11), p. 159.
‘The representation of Martyrdom during the early 13 All prices have been converted into Carolus
Counter-Reformation in Antwerp’, The Burlington guilders.
Magazine 118, 876 (1976), pp. 128-138; Justus 14 Antwerp, City Archives [hereafter S.A.A.],
Müller Hofstede, ‘Zum Werke des Otto van Veen’, Privilegiekamer Collegiale Actenboeken 558
Bulletin van de Koninklijke Musea voor Schone (1585-88), f° 115 v°, 7 October 1585.
Kunsten van België (1957), pp. 127-174; Jan Vervaet, 15 Carl van de Velde, ‘Het Kunstpatrimonium. De
‘Catalogus van de altaarstukken van gilden en 16de eeuw’, in: Willem Aerts (ed.), De Onze-Lieve-
ambachten uit de Onze-Lieve-Vrouwekerk van Vrouwekathedraal van Antwerpen, Antwerp 1993,
Antwerpen en bewaard in het Koninklijk Museum’, pp. 176-203; Frans Baudouin, ‘Het
Kunstpatrimonium. De 17de en 18de eeuw’, in: 1585-1700, New Haven 2004, pp. 1-3 ff.
Willem Aerts (ed.), De Onze-Lieve- 24 Marie Juliette Hendrickx, De reconciliatie te
Vrouwekathedraal van Antwerpen, Antwerp 1993, Antwerpen (1585-1600), MA Thesis University of
pp. 204-259; David Freedberg, Iconoclasm and Louvain 1965, pp. 45-46; Alfons K.L. Thys, ‘De
Painting in the Revolt of the Netherlands. contrareformatie en het economisch
1566-1609, New York 1988. transformatieproces te Antwerpen na 1585’,
16 Natasja Peeters, ‘“Frivol ende absurd”: het Bijdragen tot de Geschiedenis 70 (1987), p. 110.
altaarstuk voor het Herentalse Brouwersambacht 25 For overviews of Rubens’s altarpieces, see,
door Frans Francken I (1603)’, Historisch Jaarboek among others: Frans Baudouin, ‘Altars and
van Herentals 11 (2001), pp. 5-34. altarpieces before 1620’, in: John Rupert Martin,
17 Frederik Verleysen, Ambachten en Rubens before 1620, Princeton 1972, pp. 45-91;
Contrareformatie. Godsdienstige aspecten van de David Freedberg, ‘Painting and the Counter-
corporatieve wereld na de val van Antwerpen (1585- Reformation in the Age of Rubens’, in: Peter C.
1633), MA thesis University Ghent 2000. A case in Sutton (ed.), The Age of Rubens, Boston 1993,
point is studied in: Natasja Peeters, ‘A corporate p. 131-146; David Freedberg, ‘Kunst und
image? Decoration for the Saint Luke’s altarpiece Gegenreformation in den südlichen Niederländen
for the Cathedral of Our Lady in Antwerp (1589- 1560-1660’, in: Ekkehart Mai and Hans Vlieghe (eds.),
1602)’, in: Arnout Balis, Paul Huvenne et al. (eds.), Von Bruegel bis Rubens, das goldene Jahrhundert
Florissant: Bijdragen tot de kunstgeschiedenis der der flämischen Malerei, Cologne 1992, pp. 55-70;
Nederlanden (15de-17de eeuw), Liber Amicorum Thomas L. Glen, Rubens and the Counter-
Carl van de Velde, Brussels 2005, pp. 239-252. Reformation: Studies in his Religious Painting
18 Johan Dambruyne, ‘Rijkdom, materiële cultuur between 1609 and 1620, New York 1977; and
en sociaal aanzien. De bezitspatronen en Corpus Rubenianum Ludwig Burchard series.
investeringsstrategiëen van de Gentse ambachten 26 Some research on Rubens’s prices and
omstreeks 1540’, in: Catharina Lis and Hugo Soly, financial situation was published recently: Gerdien
Werelden van verschil, ambachtsgilden in de Lage Wuestman, ‘Prijzen van Rubensgrafiek in de
Landen, Brussels 1997, p. 152. zeventiende eeuw’, Delineavit et Sculpsit 19 (1998),
19 Johan Dambruyne, Corporatieve pp. 1-7; Nils Büttner, ‘Aristocracy and Noble
middengroepen. Aspiraties, relaties en business. Some remarks on Rubens’ Financial
transformaties in de 16de-eeuwse ambachtswereld, Affairs’, in Kathelijne Van der Stighelen (eds.),
Ghent 2002, passim, on the position of the Mercers Munuscula Amicorum, Contributions on Rubens
within the corporate context. and his colleagues in honour of Hans Vlieghe,
20 Max Rooses, ‘De Afdoening van het Kruis, uit 2 vols., Turnhout 2006, vol. 1, pp. 67-78.
het rekeningboek der Antwerpsche 27 Julius Held, ‘The Case Against the Cardiff
Kolveniersgilde’, Rubens Bulletijn 5 (1910), p. 232, “Rubens’ cartoons”’, The Burlington Magazine 75,
records a present of gloves for Isabella Brandt in 960 (1983), p. 132.
1615, worth 8 Car. guilders and 10 stuivers, as part 28 Rooses and Ruelens, Correspondance (note 1),
of the payment for Rubens’s Descent from the vol. 2 [1898], pp. 181-183 (letter CLXXIX); Not in
Cross. Ruth S. Magurn, The Letters of Peter Paul Rubens,
21 The count is made more difficult by the Cambridge, MA 1955, pp. 67-68. For tapestry prices,
division between full figures, half figures, and see Rooses and Ruelens, Correspondance (note 1),
heads: it is impossible to know what the price vol. 2 [1898], pp. 161-164 (letter CLXX); Not in
difference would have been. Moreover, when Magurn The Letters of Peter Paul Rubens (note 28),
altarpieces or parts of them are lost, as is the case p. 64. While preparing a commission, Rubens was
here, it makes a general count impossible. very scrupulous about format, as is witnessed in a
22 It is impossible to calculate an average letter to Count Duke Wolfgang Wilhelm of
independent guild master’s daily and yearly income, Neuburg, of 24 July 1620: “... I regret to hear that
as it varied according to the commissions he they [the paintings] are too short in proportion to
obtained, which could be irregular. Furthermore, the ornamental frame already set in place. The error
it is difficult to estimate the importance of other however, is not the result of any negligence or fault
sources of income, which any artist’s extended of mine; nor can it be a misunderstanding of the
family could generate via all kinds of other measurements…”. Rooses and Ruelens,
transactions such as marriage or the buying, renting Correspondance (note 1), vol. 2 [1898], pp. 253-254
and selling of real estate. See Natasja Peeters, ‘The (letter CCII); Not in Magurn The Letters of Peter
guild of Saint Luke and the painter’s profession in Paul Rubens (note 28), p. 75. It was not just the
Antwerp between ca. 1560 and 1585: some social measurements that mattered, but also the
and economic insights’, Nederlands Kunsthistorisch horizontal or vertical positioning on the wall, and
Jaarboek 59 (forthcoming 2008); Dambruyne, the position of the windows in relation to the
Corporatieve middengroepen (note 19), p. 690. commissioned painting(s). When this was altered,
23 Hans Vlieghe, Flemish art and architecture it could put Rubens in an awkward position, as was
the case during the preparation of the paintings for 41 (Translation author). Rooses and Ruelens,
the Galerie des Medicis, when things were changed Correspondance (note 1), vol. 5 [1907], p. 338 (letter
behind his back by Abbot de St. Ambroise, see DCLXXXIX). Not in Magurn The Letters of Peter
Rooses and Ruelens, Correspondance (note 1), Paul Rubens (note 28).
vol. 5 [1907], pp. 339-342 (letter DCXC); Not in 42 Arnout Balis (‘”Fatto da un mio discepolo”,
Magurn The Letters of Peter Paul Rubens (note 28), Rubens’ studio practices reviewed’, in: Toshiharu
pp. 368-370. Nakamura (ed.), Rubens and his workshop. The
29 (Trans. author) Rooses and Ruelens, Flight of Lot and his family from Sodom, Tokyo 1994,
Correspondance (note 1), vol. 5 [1907], pp. 300-301 pp. 97- 127, passim) touches briefly upon the
(letter DCLXXIV). Not in Magurn The Letters of pricing in relation to studio execution. Arnout Balis,
Peter Paul Rubens (note 28). ‘Rubens en zijn atelier: een probleemstelling’, in:
30 Ibid. pp. 333-334 (letter DCLXXXV). Not in Joost Vander Auwera and Sabine Van Sprang (eds.),
Magurn The letters of Peter Paul Rubens (note 28). Rubens, een genie aan het werk, Rondom de
31 Ibid. (note 1), vol. 5 [1907], p. 338 (letter Rubenswerken in de Koninklijke Musea voor
DCLXXXIX). Not in Magurn The letters of Peter Paul Schone Kunsten van België, Brussels (Royal
Rubens (note 28). Museums of Fine Arts) 2007 (exh. cat.), pp. 30-51;
32 Thomas Puttfarken,The Discovery of Pictorial on journeymen see: Natasja Peeters (ed.), Invisible
Composition: Theories of Visual Order in Painting hands? The role and status of the Painter’s
1400-1800, New Haven 2000, discusses this topic, Journeyman in the Low Countries c. 1450-c. 1650,
passim. Louvain 2007.
33 O’Malley, The Business of Art (note 11), p. 135 43 Kerry Downes, ‘Rubens’ Prices’, The Burlington
34 Rooses and Ruelens, Correspondance (note 1), Magazine 75 (1983), p. 362.
vol. 6 [1909], pp. 177-178 (letter DCCCXXX); Not in 44 Rooses and Ruelens, Correspondance (note 1),
Magurn The Letters of Peter Paul Rubens (note 28), vol. 2 [1898], pp. 149-160 (letter CLXVIII); Magurn
p. 406. The Letters of Peter Paul Rubens (note 28),
35 Roger-Adolf d’ Hulst and Marc Vandenven, pp. 61-63.
Rubens. The Old Testament, Corpus Rubenianum 45 Nora de Poorter, in her study of the Eucharist
Ludwig Burchard. 3, London 1989, pp. 96-99, no. 26, cartoons, concluded that if Rubens was paid only
refers to a document from 22 December 1629 one-third of what he got for the Medici Cycle; this
about the painting Samson and the Lion (Madrid, was because of the fact that he had more studio
coll. Duke of Hernani in 1977). But different systems assistants. Nora de Poorter, The Eucharist Series,
applied, as can be read in the letter that Balthasar Corpus Rubenianum Ludwig Burchard. 2, 2 vols.,
Moretus sent to the Flemish merchant Jean van Brussels 1978, vol. 1, p. 134; but see remark by
Vucht dated 25 June 1630, which states that the Downes, Rubens’ prices (note 43), p. 362, where the
price was decided after the designs were delivered. author rightly remarks on the two problems in De
See Rooses and Ruelens, Correspondance (note 1), Poorter’s reasoning, with the exchange rate and the
vol. 2 [1898], pp. 149-160 (letter CLXVIII); Not in work covered by the price, thus lowering the rate
Magurn The Letters of Peter Paul Rubens (note 28), for the Medici gallery.
p. 62. 46 Zirka Z. Filipczak, Picturing Art in Antwerp,
36 Rooses and Ruelens, Correspondance (note 1), 1550-1700, Princeton 1987, p. 78.
vol. 2 [1898], pp. 149-160 (letter CLXVIII); Not in 47 (Trans. author) Jozef Duverger, ‘Aantekeningen
Magurn The letters of Peter Paul Rubens (note 28), betreffende de patronen van P.P. Rubens en de
p. 61-63, The original passage, in Italian, is tapijten met de Geschiedenis van Decius Mus’,
somewhat different from the English translation by Gentse Bijdragen tot de Kunstgeschiedenis 24
Magurn: “mi rimetterei sempre del prezzo al (1976-78), p. 39, (Bewijsstuk II: ‘Desen Rubbens
arbitrario di ogni persona intelligente”. windt dagelijckx 100 guldens’).
37 Ibid. (note 1), vol. 2 [1898], pp. 261-264 (letter 48 The wages of craftsmen went through many
CCVII). Not in Magurn The Letters of Peter Paul changes in the course of the sixteenth and
Rubens (note 28). Translation in: W. N. Sainsbury, seventeenth centuries. Those for the building
Original Unpublished Papers Illustrative of the Life trades are the best known and best studied and
of Sir Peter Paul Rubens, as an Artist and a quantified. The author wishes to thank Johan
Diplomatist preserved in H.M. State Paper Office, Dambruyne for this information.
London 1859, pp. 52-54. 49 Duverger, Aantekeningen (note 47), p. 39
38 John Rupert Martin, The Ceiling Paintings for (Bewijsstuk II: “Heeft alreede over 24 duysent
the Jesuit Church in Antwerp. Corpus Rubenianum guldens versnoept in sijn huys”).
Ludwig Burchard. 1, Brussels 1968, pp. 30-32 and 50 Max Rooses, ‘De plakbrief der heerlijkheid van
appendix I (p. 213ff). Steen’, Rubens Bulletijn 5 (1910), pp. 149-151 and ff.
39 Peeters, Rubens’ altaarstukken (note 9). 51 Max Rooses, ‘De verdeling van Rubens’
40 Rooses and Ruelens, Correspondance (note 1), nalatenschap’, Rubens Bulletijn 4 (1896), pp. 236-
vol. 2 [1898], p. 24 (letter CXXIII). 252. The importance of real estate for painters is
further studied in Natasja Peeters, ‘Family Matters: Sabine Van Sprang (ed.), Rubens, een genie aan het
an integrated biography of Pieter Breughel II’ werk, Rondom de Rubenswerken in de Koninklijke
(publication forthcoming). Musea voor Schone Kunsten van België, Tielt 2007,
52 Rooses and Ruelens, Correspondance (note 1), pp. 196-200. The two other paintings which
vol. 2 [1898], pp. 78-82 (letter CXLI). alternately adorned the main altar were a Descent
53 Adolf Monballieu, ‘P.P. Rubens en het from the Cross by Gaspar de Crayer, on view during
“Nachtmael” voor St. Winoksbergen (1611)’, the Easter cycle (from the 9th Sunday before Easter
Jaarboek van het Koninklijk Museum voor Schone to the Saturday before Advent) and the Birth of
Kunsten van Antwerpen (1965), pp. 183-205. Christ by Theodoor van Loon, which could be seen
54 (Trans. author) Monballieu, P.P. Rubens en het during the Christmas cycle (from Advent to the 9th
‘Nachtmael (note 53), p. 203: with archival references: Sunday before Easter).
‘Sy tracteren met eenen schilder van gendt, dat 69 James Hall, ‘Market forces’, Times Literary
eenen hoetelaer is, ende soecken den goeden Supplement 28 (2007), p. 10 for a discussion on
coop. Dan het jammert my de heren van Berghen conspicuous investment.
soo sullen bedroghen worden’. 70 (Trans. author). Rooses and Ruelens,
55 Filipczak, Picturing Art in Antwerp (note 46), Correspondance (note 1), vol. 2 [1898], pp. 78-82
p. 79, also made a brief comparison of the prices of (letter CXLI.) ‘Atque ea in re elegantiorem aliquem
Rubens and De Crayer. pictorem imitamur (qualem Antverpiae Rubenium
56 Hans Vlieghe, Gaspar de Crayer, sa vie et ses habemus) qui imperitum artis aestimatorem, ad
oeuvres, 2 vols., Brussels 1972, vol. 1, pp. 29ff and rudem, et proinde minoris pretii artificem, a se
72-73 for his reputation. The same probably applied ablegat : neque enim ipsi desunt elegantissimae
for most of the other altarpiece painters of good suae picturae, etsi alias carioris, emptores.’
reputation, such as Theodoor Van Loon, but more
research on these painters would help clear up this
matter.
57 Hans Vlieghe, ‘Beelden van vroomheid en
ijdelheid. Van Dycks intermezzi in de Zuidelijke
Nederlanden 1627-32, 1634-35 en 1640-41’, in:
Christopher Brown and Hans Vlieghe (eds.), Van
Dyck 1599-1641, Ghent 1999, p. 71.
58 Vlieghe, Beelden (note 57), p. 71. The author
gives more examples.
59 Rooses and Ruelens, Correspondance (note 1),
vol. 2 [1898], p. 262.
60 O’Malley, The Business of Art (note 11), p. 160.
61 It would be interesting to study fifteenth and
early sixteenth-century Southern Netherlandish
altarpieces in this respect.
62 Julius Held, Rembrandt studies, Princeton
1991, p. 13.
63 Rooses and Ruelens, Correspondance (note 1),
vol. 2 [1898], p. 265 (letter CCIX).
64 Sainsbury, Original unpublished papers (note
37), p. 33 (trans.); Rooses and Ruelens,
Correspondance (note 1), vol. 2 [1898], p. 149 (letter
CLXVIII): ‘... copie en ritocci {…} luçono piu per il lor
prezzo’.
65 Sainsbury, Original unpublished papers (note
37), p. 56 (translation); Rooses and Ruelens,
Correspondance (note 1), vol. 2 [1898], p. 273 (letter
CCXV): ‘... si j’eusse fait tout l’ouvrage de ma main
propre, elle vaudroit bien le double’.
66 Büttner, Aristocracy (note 26), p. 71.
67 It would be interesting to research the studio
collaboration involved in the altarpieces made for
the richer orders versus the poorer orders and see
how this influenced the price.
68 Natasja Peeters, Hélène Dubois and Joost
Vander Auwera, ‘P.P. Rubens, De marteling van de
heilige Livinus’, in: Joost Vander Auwera and
Chapter 4
Anna Tummers
The Painter versus the

Connoisseur? The Best Judge
of Pictures in Seventeenth-
Century Theory and Practice*
Introduction
One of the most intriguing types of pictures that emerged in the Netherlands during
the Golden Age shows art lovers contemplating art in a collector’s cabinet or in an art-
ist’s studio. For example, a painting by Jan Breughel the Elder and Hieronymus Franken
depicts Archduke Albert and Archduchess Isabella together with a group of elegantly
dressed men and women in a collector’s cabinet (fig. 1). Despite the verisimilitude of
such scenes, many elements depicted were almost certainly fanciful. In this case, the
grandeur of the architectural setting does not match the size of private residences at the
time, and the fact that the same setting was used in two other pictures showing differ-
ent art lovers, also suggests that the scene is imaginary.1 Rather than records of actual
events, such pictures were presumably variations on a popular theme. Art lovers must
have liked looking at pictures of other art lovers contemplating art.
A close look at the Breughel and Stalbemt picture presumably encouraged art lovers
to discuss positive and negative attitudes towards the liberal arts. A picture within this
picture (prominently placed in the foreground) shows a negative counterpart of the
main scene: figures smashing paintings and instruments in a collector’s cabinet (which
recalls the violent iconoclasm of 1566, when many works of art were indeed destroyed).
While their clothing may suggest that these figures are human, their heads give them
away: the figure standing on the table is a donkey, the one smashing pictures on the
ground a monkey – animals associated with ignorance and rudeness.
The positive attitude of the art lovers in the main scene is thus reinforced by the con-
trast to ignorance and boorishness. Such explicit comparisons are rare in seventeenth
century pictures of art lovers. Most of them simply show people respectfully contemplat-
ing art without a negative counterpart (fig. 2. Pieter Codde, Art Lovers in a Painter’s
1.
1.
Jan Brueghel the Elder and
Hieronymus Franken II,
see colorplate p. 188
The Archdukes Albert and Isabella
Visiting a Collector’s Cabinet,
c. 1621-1623
Walters Art Gallery, Baltimore
2.
Pieter Codde
Art Lovers in a Painter’s Studio,
c. 1630
Staatsgalerie, Stuttgart
2.
Studio, c. 1630 Staatsgalerie, Stuttgart).2 The depicted art lovers are as a rule well-
dressed and seem to study the works thoroughly, now and again from very close up.
Moreover, they often point to the paintings, which suggests that they are talking about
the works. Yet, despite these lively references to conversations about art, the paintings
remain tantalisingly silent about what exactly such an interested, respectful attitude
towards paintings would have entailed.
It would be fascinating to know what elegant art lovers might have said when con-
templating pictures in the seventeenth century. Would they have been merely admiring
the works? The popular French book on eloquence, Etienne Binet’s Essay des merveil-
les de nature, et des plus nobles artifices, which was first published in 1621 and subse-
quently reprinted several times throughout the seventeenth century, recommended
precisely such an attitude.3 It provided the reader with ready-made compliments cel-
ebrating mostly the illusions created by paintings. When contemplating a beautiful
painting, one could, for example, say: ‘When painting was still in its cradle, and drank
its first milk, the brush was so unrefined, and the works so heavy, that one had to write
on them, this is a Bull, this is a Donkey, otherwise you might have taken it for a hunk of
veal; nowadays one has to write who painted the work underneath, lest one believes
that these are dead people glued to the canvas, and they appear like living, but motion-
less, people, so excellently everything is painted.’4
If we are to believe Binet, to be eloquent did not necessarily mean having a bal-
anced opinion. He advises his readers to simply praise admirable elements, while urg-
ing them to guard themselves against too much curiosity. Although it was necessary to
have a good understanding of the technical aspects of painting, he certainly did not
believe that everything was interesting enough to talk about. In fact, he stated quite
explicitly that small and insignificant things should not be discussed outside the stu-
dio.5
Would it have been common for elegant art lovers anywhere in Europe to talk about
paintings in such complimentary terms? The remark about the first paintings needing
inscriptions in order to be legible, also occurs in Willem Goeree’s 1670 treatise on
painting, and must thus have circulated widely.6 Moreover, the practice of writing laud-
atory poems on high quality pictures and reciting these in polite society seems consist-
ent with Binet’s advice.7 Yet, would it not have been equally common for art lovers to
evaluate these paintings in greater depth and to also discuss their qualities and attribu-
tions?8 Would they have singled out stronger and weaker passages? And more specifi-
cally, would art lovers, who were not painters themselves, be considered able judges of
artworks in the seventeenth century?
This essay focuses on the question of who would have been considered a good
judge of paintings in the seventeenth century, both in theory and in practice; that is to
say: who was credited with the ability to analyse a painting’s qualities, to attribute the
work and to appraise it. In secondary sources, it is often assumed that only painters
were considered capable of doing so. For example, Peter Sutton states in his 2004 essay
Rembrandt and a Brief History of Connoisseurship: ‘The few art theorists who discussed
connoisseurship in the seventeenth century [...] assign the talent exclusively to artists.’9
Earlier, in 1995, Jonathan Brown stated in his influential book Kings and Connoisseurs
that it was not until the eighteenth century that art theorists began to prefer the ‘ama-
teur (art lover)’ over the practitioner as the best judge of art, suggesting that the
supremacy of the painter as the best judge of art had not been questioned previously.10
The idea that only an artist can ultimately judge art certainly does appear in some
seventeenth-century writings. However, not all of the authors agree on the matter.
In order to give a more nuanced idea of seventeenth-century views on the issue, I will
discuss a number of art theoretical texts and relate these to market practices. In this
area of research, it seems particularly fruitful to study both art theory and the art mar-
ket, and thus both to see who was credited with the capacity to ably judge art on a theo-
retical level and to see who actually appraised pictures in practice. While Nether-
landish pictures from the Golden Age are my focal point, the theoretical sources I will
study are not exclusively Netherlandish. A broader analysis, which transcends national
borders is the rule rather than exception in scholarly studies of early modern connois-
seurship. In this particular case, a broader analysis seems justified since at the time,
like now, experts of Netherlandish art were certainly not all Dutch or Flemish. In fact,
experts such as the Italian physician Giulio Mancini or the French art theorist Roger
de Piles explicitly applied their insights to Netherlandish pictures in their writings.
‘Painters and art experts’ (schilders en konstverstandigen)
In his widely read treatise on paintings Het Schilderboeck of 1604, Karel van Mander
makes various remarks about attributing pictures and about judging their quality.11
The purpose of his book as a whole was to instruct young painters and ‘art lovers’ (lief-
hebbers) about the art of painting, to give an overview of the most important ancient
and modern painters, and – most importantly – to celebrate painting as a liberal art
and thus to enhance its status. As Van Mander puts it, painting was still too often seen
as a mere craft and he regretted that in cities such as Haarlem and Antwerp fine art
painters had to share their professional organisation, the Saint Lucas Guild, with
house painters, saddle makers and the like.12 Considering Van Mander’s ambitious
premise, it is perhaps not surprising that he did not comment on such pragmatic
issues as who appraised paintings on the market.
In Van Mander’s view, hands-on experience was certainly very important when
judging art. In the introduction to his treatise, he stresses the fact that he himself is a
practitioner of the art of painting and he adds somewhat apologetically: ‘Someone
more eloquent might have written this more beautifully and artfully, however if he was
not a Painter, one would have to be concerned that he would miss items and character-
istics.’13 Moreover, when Van Mander discusses a famous anecdote about the ancient
painters Apelles and Protogones, he stresses the advantage of having experience as a
painter in order to understand the anecdote. Van Mander knew the story via Pliny, who
relates that Protogenes was able to recognise the hand of Apelles in one skilfully paint-
ed thin line on a prepared canvas: ‘since it was impossible (said Protogenes), that any-
one but Apelles could have created with paint and a brush such a pleasant, thin line.’14
Pliny’s story concerns the earliest attribution known in the history of Western art.
Yet it is a particularly confusing account, for how could anyone attribute a work simply
on the basis of one thin line? The story has baffled many writers on art since Pliny
including Van Mander, who explained the story by stating that Pliny did not give suffi-
cient information, and that, in fact, this learned gentleman was not a good judge of
painting himself.15 Pliny told of how, after recognising Apelles’ hand in the thin line,
Protogenes tried to outdo the master by painting an even thinner line himself. And
when Apelles saw Protogenes’s line he added a third one that was so well executed that
no one could paint one more precisely or pleasantly.
According to Van Mander these three lines painted by Apelles and Protogenes
‘were not simple straight lines or brushstrokes, as many who are not Painters believe,
but some contour of an arm or a leg, or some profile of a head, or something of the
kind, a contour which they had drawn very precisely and in some areas through each
other’s lines’.16 Van Mander was all the more convinced of his opinion as Pliny said
that many people who were knowledgeable about art greatly admired the picture.
According to Van Mander they would not be impressed by a simple, hand-drawn
straight line, and he explains that such a line ‘is often done better by a School Teacher,
a Writer, or another person who is not an artist, than by the best painter in the world.’17
Although Van Mander refers on these two occasions to non-painters who are inca-
pable of interpreting art correctly, he does not exclude the possibility that non-paint-
ers could sometimes also make sensible comments on art. When discussing attribu-
tions of paintings that he had seen himself or the characteristics of an artist’s style,
Van Mander repeatedly reinforces his own opinion by stating that ‘painters and art
experts’ (schilders en konstverstandigen) would agree with him.18 By differentiating
between painters and art experts Van Mander suggests that these art experts were not
just painters. Indeed he uses the term ‘art expert’ (konstverstandige) for knowledge-
able art lovers throughout his treatise.
An example of such a reference to ‘painters and art experts’ can also be found in
Van Mander’s discussion of Holbein’s painting Henry VIII and the Barber Surgeons of c.
1543 (see also the essay By His Hand: The Paradox of Seventeenth-Century Connoisseur-
ship, pp. 53-54 above). Van Mander relates that: ‘There are some people who believe
that this work was not completed entirely by Holbein himself, but that after Holbein’s
death, it was completed by someone else. However, if this is the case, this painter has
imitated Holbein’s manner so sensibly that neither a Painter nor an Art expert would
distinguish different hands.’19 Apparently, in Van Mander’s view, knowledgeable non-
painters could thus also judge the characteristics of an artist’s style and issues of attri-
bution.20
Moreover, Van Mander took general quality judgements from knowledgeable non-
painters to heart, witness his description of the life of David Vinckboons. By means of
an introduction, Van Mander explains how he decided which artists to include in his
book. Whenever he visits the house of an art lover, he says, he pays special attention to
the works which are regarded as exceptional. And although he trusts his own opinion,
he is also happy to follow ‘the common feeling of art experts’ (‘t ghemeen ghevoelen der
konst-verstandiger).21 For this reason, he says, he cannot omit David Vinckboons.
Although he subsequently continues to praise Vinckboon’s works as ‘exquisite’ (uit-
nemend), his praise sounds rather ambivalent, for his introduction suggests that if it
were up to him, he would have preferred to omit Vinckboons from his treatise (fig. 3).
Apparently, Van Mander felt he could not ignore the opinions of the collector connois-
seurs to whom he refers.
That Van Mander credits the judgement of both painters and non-painters of
course does not mean that he thought that every painter and art lover was indeed an
able judge of pictures. What skills or talents did he think were needed in order to suc-
cessfully judge pictures? This very much depended on the type of picture and on what
aspect of it one wanted to judge. In Van Mander’s view, people with no previous experi-
ence of looking at pictures, could make some very sensible comments if they used
their own professional expertise, and he used a famous anecdote about the ancient
painter Apelles to illustrate this point.22 Apelles reputedly had the habit of displaying
his paintings outside his house while hiding behind them so that he could overhear
the comments of passers-by. While doing so, he once heard a cobbler comment on the
depiction of a sandal, which did not have enough straps to be worn as a shoe in reality.
3.
David Vinckboons
Forest Scene with Robbery, c.1612
Private Collection
Apelles gratefully picked up on the suggestion and changed his picture accordingly.
However, when the cobbler later began criticising Apelles’ depiction of a knee, the
painter appeared from behind his work and told the cobbler to ‘stick to his last’, that
is: to stick to his area of expertise.23 However, Van Mander believed that ordinary peo-
ple did not have to stick to their areas of expertise, because he believed they were capa-
ble of judging the passions, desires and suffering of the figures, their inner lives, if you
will.24 Moreover, when he discussed religious painting, he emphasised that religious
images should be relatively easy to understand for onlookers, so in this respect, the
opinion of laymen should also be valued.25
Other aspects of a painting, the more complicated subject matter and artistic qual-
ities, he considered more difficult to judge without the proper background. Two pas-
sages in which he mocks ignorant judgements are telling in this respect. In his biogra-
phy of Cornelis Ketel, Van Mander relates the story of a farmer, who thought he had
understood a painting but who was in fact completely mistaken.26 When confronted
with a painting of the mythological figure of Danae, the farmer boasted that he knew
the subject. He identified the scene as the Annunciation, mistaking Cupid for the
angel Gabriel and mistaking the nude figure of Danae for the Virgin Mary.
In another instance, Van Mander discusses an altarpiece that Pieter Vlerick paint-
ed for a convent. According to Van Mander it had been executed with ‘Tintoretto’s spir-
it and invention’ in mind, with which he presumably alluded to Tintoretto’s Crucifix-
ion in the Scuola Grande de San Rocco (fig. 4). Unfortunately, Vlerick’s picture has not
survived. According to Van Mander, it showed Christ in the middle ground on the
cross with the light coming from the side so that Christ’s face was mostly cast in
4.
Tintoretto
Crucifixion, 1565
Scuola Grande di San Rocco, Venice
shadow. This was something which ‘painters and art lovers’ (schilders en konstver-
standigen) could appreciate, according to Van Mander, however, the nuns were not
pleased with it. Apparently, they were unable to properly appreciate the altarpiece for
its artistic merits. In their defence, however, one could argue that for them the picture
was not merely a work of art, but first and foremost an object of devotion.
According to Van Mander, a certain amount of erudition was thus necessary to
properly interpret certain subjects and appreciate a painting’s artistic merits. To
understand a scene from ancient history, the Bible or mythology, it was necessary to
know the sources from which the story was taken. As to artistic merits, Van Mander
mentions that a basic knowledge of the art of drawing would help in the assessment of
works of art.27 Interestingly, Van Mander does not indicate whether hands-on experi-
ence in the art of painting was necessary to be able to talk about paintings. He does
stress – as we have seen above – the advantage of having the experienced eye of a paint-
er when assessing art on several occasions, but never goes so far as to insist that with-
out this experience one would be unable to properly assess paintings.
Explicit recommendations on learning the art of drawing in order to be able to talk
about art intelligently appear in many other seventeenth-century texts.28 For example,
Constantijn Huygens, secretary to the stadholders Frederik Hendrik and Willem II,
who was closely involved in major painting commissions for the court, noted in his
famous diary that it was very important to learn the basics of the art to be able to talk
knowledgeably about paintings. He himself not only learned to draw as part of his edu-
cation but also how to paint even though his father only considered the art of drawing
essential for his education.29 Recommendations to also get some practical experience
in the art of painting are remarkably absent in early modern art theory, presumably
because many early art theorists saw drawing as the very core of all visual arts includ-
ing painting, sculpture and architecture.
5.
Hendrick Goltzius (in the style of Albrecht Dürer)

The Circumcision, 1594
A thorough instruction in the art of drawing as well as some training in how to

design scenes and depict biblical and mythological figures were a common part of
a young painter’s curriculum. A well-trained painter thus had the knowledge and
experience that Van Mander considered important when judging art. Was a painter
therefore an astute judge of paintings? Not necessarily, according to Van Mander,
because he believes envy and vanity can easily cloud one’s judgement. For example,
when he discusses how a series of prints by Goltzius in the styles of old masters
had completely fooled painters and art experts and even engravers who thought
they knew the manners and incisions of the Masters well, Van Mander concludes
that this shows what envy, vanity and prejudices can lead to (fig. 5).30 Some of these
painters and art experts held old masters such as Albrecht Dürer and Lucas van
Leyden in such high esteem that they thought that no one could equal their
achievements, while others simply disliked Goltzius. In both instances, this seri-
ously clouded the judgement of these otherwise knowledgeable experts.
Ideal judgements and pretentious comments
Many of Van Mander’s general comments on assessing works of art hearken back
to antiquity and were shared by most other seventeenth-century writers. The idea
that some knowledge was necessary to successfully judge art was very common in
both ancient and modern texts; laymen were often credited with the ability to
judge the depicted passions and/or to judge elements related to their professions.
However, judging attributions and the overall quality of a work was very much a
specialist affair. As to precisely what kind of knowledge was necessary for a sophis-
ticated assessment, there was no clear consensus in either antiquity or in the sev-
enteenth century. The question what a successful judge of pictures should know,
relates to the question of what exactly should be judged, and thus to the question
of what elements were considered the most important. This last question had long
been the subject of debate.
There was already disagreement on the matter back in antiquity. On the one
hand, craftsmanship was considered very important – witness an anecdote about
the ancient painter Zeuxis, to which both the art theorists Franciscus Junius and
Samuel van Hoogstraten refer. According to the ancient writer Lucian, Zeuxis had
painted a picture of a female centaur suckling two baby centaurs, which he
thought would be greatly praised for its craftsmanship such as the connection
between the human skin of the upper part of the centaurs’ bodies and their furry
lower bodies and legs. However, when Zeuxis displayed the work to a general
audience:
‘All of them praised most … the unusual aspect of the subject, and the novelty of its
‘message’, which was unknown to earlier artists. Thus when Zeuxis realized that the
curiosity of the painting rather than his technique was capturing their attention
and was putting the refinement of the work to one side, he said to his pupil:
‘Micion, cover it up and take it back home. These people are praising the raw mud
of our art, but as for the lighting, how well it looks and how carefully done, they
have nothing to say. The novelty of the subject surpasses the discipline of the
execution’.31
Zeuxis apparently did not agree with the preferences of his audience, and both Junius
and Samuel van Hoogstraten use his comment about the audience focussing on the
‘mud of the art’ (droesem van de kunst) to stress the importance of knowing what
aspects to praise in a painting.32
On the other hand, there was another a story from antiquity in which expertise was
needed not so much to properly evaluate the execution, but rather to understand the
inventive way of conveying meaning. It is a story by Calistrus, which Junius recounts in
De Pittura Veterum. Calistratus described how he looked at a statue representing
opportunity by the famous ancient sculptor Lysippus. Calistratus discussed the work
with his friends and, in doing so, vividly evoked the statue’s charm and lifelikeness.
However, Junius writes, it took an expert who joined him and his party, to open their
eyes to the significance of the wings on Opportunity’s feet and the forelock on his head,
and to make them see the aptness of this very beauty.33
These ancient stories with their different emphases seem to foreshadow the
famous disegno-colorito debate that erupted in sixteenth-century Italy, which then
subsequently spread across Europe and became very heated in France at the end of the
seventeenth century. Although the disegno-colorito debate focused more on the visual
characteristics of pictures than on their possible meaning. The main issue in the
debate was which aspect of painting was the most important: the line as the expres-
sion of the inventions of the human mind (disegno) or the achievement by means of
painting from life to create the most natural and lifelike expressiveness through the
handling of paint, colour, light and shade (colorito).34 Some advocates of the disegno-
approach such as the French author Paul Fréart de Cambray valued the invention and
arrangement of the subject to such an extent that they dismissed the painter’s brush-
strokes as just ‘mechanical’ aspects of painting.35 The debate was probably quite fierce
in the Netherlands as well, as Eric Jan Sluijter has suggested.36 In 1628, the Dutch
painter and amateur mathematician Jacques de Ville published a short treatise in
which he sharply attacked painters and art lovers who only looked at the ‘manner of
painting’ (handelinghe). Tellingly he gave his Treatise on Architecture and Painting the
subtitle: ‘… warning to all craftsmen and lovers of this art that they should not gape at
the manner alone but look further.’37 In De Ville’s view, the drawn design of a picture
was essential, which should express a keen knowledge of proportions as well as a thor-
ough understanding of the rules of perspective. However, it is beyond the scope of this
essay to closely analyse how pictures were judged and what elements were deemed
crucial. In this context, I would merely like to stress that there were different views on
how good quality was defined. However, the idea that one needed a certain amount of
expertise to properly assess pictures was common.
Similarly, the idea that negative emotions such as jealousy and vanity could cloud
one’s judgement was widespread. It was especially bad painters who were prone to
jealousy and inappropriate expressions of vanity. Van Mander, for example, discusses
a mediocre painter who had the audacity to not only criticise a work by a superior mas-
ter – Peter Vlerick – but to also correct it with his brush, which, of course, greatly irri-
tated Vlerick.38 Since the sixteenth century, poorly educated painters (daubers) were
often mocked in the literature – a theme which has been extensively researched by
Zilsel, Wittkower, Emmens and more recently by Lyckle de Vries.39 These bad painters
were described as pretentious, badly mannered, having a neglected look, and a great
craving for fame. In the seventeenth century, we find this kind of pretentious bad
painter, for example, in a witty poem by Jan Vos:
‘To Martijn the Painter / Martijn, you always boast about your paintings / The common
people neither understand Art nor its worth, in your view, /
You’re right; the commoners are slow to understand its characteristic / If they were
wise; they would not be so fond of paintings by you’.40
Like the bad painter, the inadequate art lover is a figure who often pops up in art theo-
retical writings. Art theorists described the despicable ‘connoisseurs’ they had
encountered and in so doing warned their readers not to become like them. These
charlatans were pretentious, did not know what to look for in a painting, and were
often also corrupt and untrustworthy. In the introduction to his treatise Sentimens sur
la Distinction des diverses manières de peinture, dessin et gravure et des orginaux d’avec
leurs copies of 1649, Abraham Bosse stated that he had met many pretentious art lov-
ers who used a great number of art-related terms such as ‘of the antique’, ‘of the great
manner’, ‘expression’, ‘union’, ‘well-touched’, ‘day’, ‘half-day’, ‘counter day’ – but who
had a poor capacity for assessing paintings; they could perhaps distinguish certain
aspects of an artist’s manner ‘that a blind man could recognise when he touching the
paintings’, but lacked any refinement in their analyses of the works and, even worse
– ‘out of ignorance or for some other reason, they despise the works by artists who are
worth more than the total value of the Paintings they themselves own.’ 41 Another
example can be found in Junius’ book The Paintings of the Ancients, in which the
author exclaims:
‘Away [...] with all of those, who thinke it enough if they can but confidently usurpe the
authority belonging onely to them that are well skilled in these arts: it will not serve
their turne, that they doe sometimes with a censorious brow reject, and sometimes
with an affected gravity commend the workes of great masters: the neat and polished
age wherein we live will quickly finde them out’.42
However, not all art buyers were dismissed as ignorant and pretentious. The counter-
part of the ignorant art lover was the knowledgeable connoisseur. According to
Franciscus Junius, there was one connoisseur in particular who inspired seventeenth-
century art lovers: a famous ancient art expert by the name of Novius Vindex. Accord-
ing to the ancient writer Statius Papinius, Vindex was an aristocrat who was extraordi-
nary skilful at attributing unsigned works. Moreover, he could see from far away which
line had been drawn by the ancient painter Apelles.45 In the context of this essay it is
particularly interesting that this ancient art expert who reputedly had no equal in his
day, was probably not a painter, which brings me back to the question of who was
considered an able judge of pictures in seventeenth-century art theory: just painters
or also knowledgeable connoisseurs?
Fig. 6 - A satirical drawing by Pieter Brueghel the Elder mocks a dauber and his foolish
client, much like the art theorists did in their writings. While some scholars in the past
interpreted the image as a comment on the ignorance of a non-practitioner when judging
art, Lyckle de Vries convincingly argued that in fact both figures in this drawing were being
ridiculed.43 The painter’s wild hairdo, inadequate equipment (he’s holding the brush of a
house painter 44) and puzzled expression indicate that he is a dauber. His admirer holds a
big moneybag, suggesting that he is willing to pay well for the dauber’s work, while his
glasses only accentuate his lack of discernment.
-,
,
'""->, ,
\, , ,/
/
''-.- ~
~ .=.. .""I v
•
6.
Pieter Brueghel the Elder

The Painter and the Connoisseur, mid-1560s,
Grafische Sammlung Albertina, Vienna
The best judge – the painter?
At least three seventeenth-century art theorists – Etienne Binet, Abraham Bosse and
Samuel van Hoogstraten – explicitly declared that only painters were able to adequate-
ly assess pictures.46 Binet, the author of a popular book on eloquence discussed above,
wrote somewhat mysteriously: ‘Good painters always hide some secret knowledge in
their works, which is worth more than the rest, but only the Master Painters recognise
it and have a feeling for it.’47 As discussed above, Binet simply advised his readers to
praise admirable characteristics of pictures; a thorough understanding of the works
such as master painters could achieve, was beyond their reach, according to him.
The Parisian printmaker Abraham Bosse was somewhat more ambivalent. He
wrote a treatise to instruct art lovers on how to recognise various manners of painting,
printmaking and drawing, and on how to distinguish between originals and copies
(Sentimens sur la Distinction des diverses manières de peinture, dessin et gravure et des
orginaux d’avec leurs copies, Paris 1649). But despite his premise, he expressed his
doubts about how good of a judge he thought his readers might become. He acknowl-
edged that there were good judges of art among both painters and ‘art lovers’ (curieux).
‘[O]ne may say that in this art [of judging pictures] as in other Arts, there are natural
inclinations for these things, for sometimes even people who have barely any practical
experience, have or can have some knowledge in this respect. But to say that they come
close to the opinion that Excellent Practitioners who are experienced herein may have,
that is impossible in my opinion.’48
However, at the end of his treatise, Bosse, nonetheless, notes that distinguishing
between various manners of painting, between originals and copies, and between
good and bad paintings was in fact ‘easy’ and that with the help of good artist connois-
seurs, non-practising art lovers could learn it.49 Indeed, Bosse seems to have had diffi-
culties reconciling his premise to teach art lovers how to judge art, with his desire to
celebrate the superiority of practitioners in this respect. As Jonathan Brown wittily
remarked, Bosse’s treatise in fact balances uncomfortably between altruism and self-
defence.50
Of these three advocates of the hegemony of painters in judging art, the painter
Samuel van Hoogstraten was the most outspoken. In the preface to his treatise he
declares:
‘Thus our Introduction will also be opportune for all art lovers, although they are not
experienced [in painting itself], so that they will not be deceived when buying pieces of
art, because they will appreciate these to the measure of the virtues that are to be seen
in them, and they will not remain name-buyers, of which there are so many, who are
being led astray by some boaster, to value poor rags, because they have been led to
believe that they were painted by a great Master. It certainly is a ridiculous pastime to
esteem something as artful and worthy of high respect, whereas there is nothing artful
nor eminent to be seen. I do not pretend that this introduction of mine will open the
art lover’s eyes to the extent that he will be able to judge art by himself: far from it, but
he will more easily come to understand what it is in our work that should be judged,
and then will be able, with the help of an experienced painter, to clearly and distinc-
tively detect the virtues and failures in any piece of work.’51
In Van Hoogstraten’s view, art lovers could thus develop an understanding of the
aspects that should be judged in paintings; however, they would never be able to
properly evaluate a picture without the assistance of a knowledgeable painter.
The best judge – the connoisseur?
Certainly not all early modern art theorists were as negative as Binet, Bosse and Hoog-
straten about the abilities of non-practitioners to sensibly judge pictures. As we have
seen, Van Mander, for example, took the judgements of non-practitioners to heart when
discussing issues of attribution, the characteristics of an artist’s style and the general
quality of a painter’s work. Nevertheless, he also stressed the advantages of the painter’s
experienced eye, which suggests that he did not find it self-evident that art lovers could
be the equals of good painters when it came to assessing art. Writers on art who were not
painters themselves, generally had more confidence in their own judgements, however.
The Italian collector Giulio Mancini, for example, was quite explicit in his comments
on the matter. In the introduction to his unpublished treatise on judging pictures, he
raises the question of whether he as a non-painter could write a treatise to teach gentle-
men how to assess pictures so they could more successfully purchase and collect paint-
ings. The answer is evidently yes. He believed that some practical experience is impor-
tant, namely knowing how to draw. However, he did not find it necessary to know how to
paint; elements such as colour, perspective, and the expression of passions were for
Mancini common enough subjects that everyone could recognise and judge them with-
out having to be a painter.52 He then eloquently turns the question around and asks: why
is it that a painter is not necessarily a good judge of painting? Mancini believed it was
because the painting and judging of paintings required different talents and qualities.
Painting required primarily ‘imagination’ (fantasia). Assessing a painting, however,
required prudence, knowledge, intelligence and a certain indifference (to prevent nega-
tive passions such as envy from clouding one’s judgement). Moreover, to successfully
appraise art one needed additional knowledge; because painting was not a necessity like
bread and water and thus, its price, Mancini argued, basically depended on the taste and
budget of the buyer and the need of the owner to dispose of the work. Mancini believed
that creating, judging and appraising pictures were thus three different specialisations,
of which the last two did not necessarily require painterly experience.
Franciscus Junius also believed that experience as a painter was not necessary to suc-
cessfully assess pictures, however, for somewhat different reasons. As we have seen, he
repeatedly compared ancient views with those of his contemporaries in his treatise On
the Painting of the Ancients.
Indeed, his opinion regarding who could best judge art came in a response to Pliny
the Younger. The latter had written that: ‘none but an Artificer can judge a Painter,
Carver, Caster in brasse, or worker in clay’, to which Junius immediately adds:
‘Observe in the mean time, that in these words of Plinie we must understand by the name
Artificer, not such a workman only as doth really paint and carve, but such a Lover [...] of
Art as by a rare and well-exercised Imaginative facultie, is able to conferre his conceived
Images with the Pictures and Statues that come neerest to Nature, and is likewise able to
discerne by a cunning and infallible conjecture the severall hands of divers great Masters
out of their manner of working.’53
Thus, in Junius’s view, painters but also trained art lovers could adequately judge the
quality and attribution of works of art. He believed that judging art required a trained
imagination. The connoisseur should be able to imagine what a scene should look like
and compare this mental image to what he sees in a painting. He thus needs a kind of
knowledge that is very similar to an artist’s, so that he can also imagine how else the
painter could have depicted the same scene. When properly trained, Junius believed
that non-painters were often better judges than painters: ‘thus provided, they doe
often examine the works of great Artificers with better successe then the Artists them-
selves, the severitie and integretie of whose judgements is often weakend by the love of
their owne and the dislike of other mens workes.’54
In the 1630s, Junius thus touted the trained art lover over the practitioner as the
better judge of art. Interestingly, around the same time, three other writers on art
praised painters to the extent that they were popular among art lovers. Jan Orlers and
Theodoor Schrevelius, in their descriptions of their respective cities of Leiden and
Haarlem, refer extensively to the assessments of art lovers when they celebrated cer-
tain painters; the opinions of other painters are not even mentioned.55 The opinion of
art lovers, to them, was a guarantee of quality. Even the painter, Philips Angel, focuses
on the opinions of art lovers in his praise of the Leiden painters of 1641.56 Junius was
obviously not the only one who preferred the opinions of non-painters.
Moreover, Junius was also ingenious in how he appreciated the laymen’s opinion.
Junius opined that even laymen could recognise the quality of an artwork, even though
they remained incapable of fully rationalising their opinions. He argued forcefully by
comparing it to music, by noting that anyone can recognise a false note, even those
unable to explain exactly what caused it or play the passage better themselves.57
In the 1660s and 1670s, the French art theorists André Félibien and Roger de Piles
expanded on Junius’s view that anybody can basically assess a painting’s quality, but
that it takes greater expertise to fully rationalise one’s opinions. Like Junius, they
believed that both painters and connoisseurs could potentially assess a painting,
emphasising that both needed the same intellectual background in the principles of
painting to adequately explain their opinions. Furthermore, they also added a warning
to aspiring connoisseurs about the pitfalls. Félibien points out the dangers of solely
focussing on one aspect of a painting that one is knowledgeable about such as per-
spective. Meanwhile, De Piles pointed out that it was important to realise that neither
a good painter’s nor a reputable connoisseur’s opinion is necessarily correct regarding
a picture, meaning, in effect that should always also think for oneself.58 On a more
pragmatic level, De Piles warned beginning connoisseurs not to stand too close to the
painting when assessing a large or roughly painted work, as he had witnessed many
people doing, but to step back to an ideal viewing distance.59
In the art theoretical literature, the question of who is the best judge of art was
thus an issue that led to some debate. I think that rather than try to see the different
views as a linear development based on a general consensus, it is more fruitful to see
the various views as part of an evolving debate, and to analyse the individual opinions
in relation to the background, training and surroundings of these opinionated writers.
While the art theorist-painters tended to emphasise the painter’s critical capacities;
the art lover--non-practitioners appealed for recognition of their abilities. As we have
seen, some of these art lovers believed that non-painters were the equals of painters
when it came to assessing art. The question then is to what extent these connoisseurs
also actually assessed art in practice. As we have seen, Orlers, Schrevelius and Angel
believed that the opinions of knowledgeable art lovers guaranteed the quality of an
artwork. But did these connoisseurs also assess and appraise art as a dealer, auction-
eer or official arbitrator in attribution issues?
Judging pictures in practice
In the seventeenth-century, the sale of pictures was controlled by the professional

organisation of painters, the Guild of Saint Luke, the rules and regulations of which
differed per city. The heads of the guild were the traditional arbitrators involving con-
flicts. Art dealers had to be members of the Guild of St Luke to be eligible to sell art.
The guild also granted permission for public sales such as auctions.60
Master painters most commonly sold work produced in their studios directly to
clients. Sometimes they sold work created elsewhere as Johannes Vermeer did. Some
painters gave up painting altogether to devote themselves exclusively to the art trade.
They included prominent dealers like Gerrit Uylenburgh, Cornelis Doeck, Abraham
de Cooge, Crijn Volmarijn, Matthijs Musson, Albert Meyeringh and Jan Colenbier.61
Furthermore, it was fairly common for the family members of painters to become
involved in art transactions. Did knowledgeable art lovers also sell art?
Interestingly, in the seventeenth century, several membership lists of the various
Guilds of Saint Luke mention ‘art lovers’ (liefhebbers), a phenomenon that was
researched by Jaap van de Veen and Cindy van Keulen.62 In the city of Antwerp, 23 art
lovers are listed in the guild records during the period 1600-1630. Some of these are
described as ‘art lover and merchant’ (liefhebber en coopman), so one can assume
that they were also dealers. Two of these have been identified as the well-connected
art collectors Cornelis vander Geest and Philips van Valckenisse.
‘Art lovers’ (liefhebbers) are also listed in documents pertaining to the Haarlem
Guild of St. Luke. In response to a draft document from the Haarlem headmen pro-
posing a ban on public sales (1642), several guild members protested the decision.
One of their objections was that this ban would greatly inconvenience art lovers who
encouraged young painters by buying all their work. If they were unable to resell
these works freely, they could potentially change their minds about encouraging new
talent.63 Guild records in The Hague also mention art lovers; they paid the Guild
6 stuivers per year in membership fees, the same amount as master painters.
According to a 1656 guild regulation, these art lovers were allowed to freely purchase
art from out-of-town painters; However, they were not allowed to resell these in
public sales without the consent of the burgomasters.64 The rules and regulations
varied quite a bit from city to city. In Bruges and Gent, art lovers were not even men-
tioned in guild records, which does not necessarily mean that there were no non-
practitioner members in the guild of Saint Luke, because they may have been regis-
tered as dealers.
The scattered evidence nonetheless leads us to conclude that numerous non-
practitioners occasionally sold art and that some were even specialised dealers. For
example, one of the most prominent dealers in Amsterdam around the middle of the
seventeenth century was a non-practitioner: Johannes de Renialme; other examples
include the collectors Marten Kretzer and Herman van Swoll.65 Similarly, the most
well-known auctioneer of the period, Jan Pietersz. Zomer, had not been trained as a
painter. Lastly, as Koenraad Jonckheere has shown, at the end of the seventeenth
century, collector-connoisseurs like Jan van Beuningen played a crucial role in the
sale of high-end masterpieces.66
There is also evidence that non-painters acted as official arbitrators in attribution

cases in the seventeenth century. As Jaap van de Veen has shown, Marten Kretzer,
Isaack van Beest and Herman Stoffelsz. van Swol among others assumed this role; they
were all paintings collectors.67 Interestingly, this practice roughly coincides with the
period in which some writers on painting award greater importance to the judgement
of non-practitioners than to that of painters when praising artists (see above). Indeed
it looks like non-practitioners thus acquired an increasingly important role both in
theory and in practice throughout the seventeenth century.
Although most pictures were sold by painters in the seventeenth century either
directly or in retail, some non-painters were thus able to establish themselves as art
dealer, auctioneer and/or as arbitrator. Of course they did not only judge pictures in
these capacities. In as far as these connoisseurs have been identified, they were all col-
lectors themselves. And they would have obviously needed to judge pictures when
buying works.
Conclusion
The assumption that only painters were acknowledged as having the capacity to assess
art in the seventeenth century does not hold true. It was a topic of debate among art
theorists who was ultimately the best judge: the painter or the connoisseur, and most
theorists seemed to agree that there were good judges among both master painters
and art lovers. In practice, besides painters, some connoisseurs were also considered
able judges of art. Successful dealers and auctioneers were not necessarily painters
themselves and non-practitioners were sometimes called upon to serve as official
arbitrators in attribution issues. Interestingly, the connoisseur’s increasingly impor-
tant role on the art market coincides with the increased importance attached to his
opinions in descriptions of cities and in art theory publications. This, in turn, may
have provoked stronger expressions of aversion – by Bosse and Van Hoogstraten, for
instance – for inept and pretentious connoisseurs.
In hindsight, the conclusion that the opinions of connoisseurs were important
both in theory and in practice was perhaps predictable. After all, as De Piles wrote in
one of his dialogues on connoisseurship: ‘It would have been a strange thing if paint-
ings were made for painters only.’68
* I would like to thank Marten Jan Bok, Inge 1992, p. 167; see also Arthur Wheelock,
Broekman, Koenraad Jonkcheere and Eric Jan A Collector’s Cabinet, Washington D.C. 1998, p. 15
Sluijter for their insightful comments on earlier and 60 (note 3 and 4).
drafts of this essay. 2 Examples of gallery paintings can be found in:
1 One of these paintings is in the Museo del S. Speth-Holterhoff, Les peintres flamands de
Prado, Madrid, inv. no. 1405; see Padrón, Matías cabinets d’amateurs au XVIIème siècle, Brussels
Díaz, and Mercedes Royo-Villanova, David Teniers, 1957; Matthias Winner, Die Quellen der Pictura-
Jan Brueghel y los gabinetes de pinturas, Madrid Allegorien in gemalten Bildergalerien des 17.
(Museo del Prado) 1992 (exh. cat.), no. 25; another Jahrhunderts zu Antwerpen, Ph.D. Dissertation
one was on the Brussels art market according to Universität Köln 1957; Zirka Zaremba Filipczak,
Kristin Belkin, see Guy C. Bauman and Walter Picturing Art in Antwerp 1550-1700, Princeton 1987.
A. Liedtke, Flemish Paintings in America, Antwerp On depictions of art lovers in painters studios, see
Ernst van de Wetering and Michiel Franken, ‘Op Connoisseurship’, above pp. 31-66.
bezoek in het atelier’, Kunstschrift/Opembaar 9 Peter Sutton, ‘Rembrandt and a Brief History of
Kunstbezit 27, 1 (1983), pp. 3-12; Arjan de Koomen, Connoisseurship’, in: Ronald D. Spencer (ed.),
‘‘Pictieve bezoekers’, in Mariët Haveman (ed.), The Expert versus the Object, Judging Fakes and
Ateliergeheimen: over de werkplaats van de False Attributions in the Visual Arts, Oxford 2004,
Nederlandse kunstenaar vanaf 1200 tot heden, pp. 29-38, esp. p. 31.
Lochem 2006, pp. 234-253; Katja Kleinert, 10 Jonathan Brown, Kings and Connoisseurs:
Atelierdarstellungen in der Niederländischen Collecting Art in Seventeenth -Century Europe,
Genremalerei des 17. Jahrhunderts: realistisches Princeton 1995, p. 233.
Abbild oder glaubwürdiger Schein?, Petersburg 11 Karel van Mander, Het Schilder-boeck,
2006. Haarlem 1604.
3 This text is often mistakenly referred to as the 12 Ibid. (note 11), fol. 251v.
Brussels Manuscript by Pierre le Brun, which credits 13 ‘Yemandt spraeck-condigher hadde moghen
Le Brun as the author. In fact, Le Brun’s manuscript dit veel schoon-taliger en constiger te weghe
is a hand-written copy of Binet’s widely read book brenghen: doch waer te besorghen, indien hy self
on eloquence, which was reprinted several times geen Schilder en waer, dat hy in onse dinghen,
during the seventeenth century. Etienne Binet, en eyghenschappen, hem dickwils soude hebben
Essay des merveilles de nature, et des plus nobles verloopen.’ Ibid. (note 11), fol. *4v.
artifices, with an introduction by Marc Fumaroli, 14 ‘want t’was (seyde hy) onmoghelijck, dat
Paris 1987 [1621]. yemandt anders als Appelles soude connen maken
4 ‘Quand la peinture estoit encore au berceau; met verwe en pinceel soo aerdighen dunnen treck
et à son premier liact; le pinceau estoit si niais, les als desen was’ Ibid. (note 11), fol. 77v.
ouvrages si lourds, qu’il fallait écrire desssus, c’est 15 See also Henri van de Waal, ‘The Linea sumae
un Boeuf, c’est un Asne, autrement vous eussiez tenuitatis’, Zeitschrift für Ästetik und allgemeine
pris cela pour un quartier de veau; maintenant il Kunstwissenschaft, 12, 1 (1967), pp. 5-32.
faut mettre dessous, qu’un tel peignoit, de peur 16 Van Mander, Het Schilder-boeck (note 11),
qu’on ne creut que ce sont des morts qu’on a collé fol. 78r: ‘waren slechte recht uytgetrocken linien oft
sur la toile, et des personnes vivantes sans vie, tant streken, ghelijck vele meenen, die geen Schilders
le tout est bien fait.’ Binet, Essay des Merveilles de en zijn: maer eenigen omtreck van een arem oft
nature (note 3), p. 364. been, oft immer eenich pourfijl van een tronie, oft
5 ‘gardez-vous [...] de la recherche trop curieuse, soo yet, den welcken omtreck sy seer net hebben
et des petites chosettes qui sont trop minces et qui ghetrocken, en t’sommiger plaetsen door
ne doivent pas sortir de la boutique.’ Binet, Essay malcanders treck [...] henen’.
des Merveilles de nature (note 3), p. 355. 17 ‘En mijn meyninghe bevest ick hier mede, dat
6 Willem Goeree, Inleydingh tot de practijck der Plinius ghetuyght, datter de ghene die hun aen de
al-gemeene schilder-konst, Middelbrugh 1697 Schilder-const verstonden, grootlijcx in waren
[1670], pp. 7-8. verwondert en verbaest. Waer door wel te verstaen
7 Although some seventeenth-century poems is, dat het constighe omtrecken, en gheen simpel
on paintings have a sharp wit and contain some linien en waren, die dese soo uytnemenste opper
criticism, the majority are laudatory in general terms, Meesters in onser Const tegen malcander om
celebrating for example their lifelikeness. Poetry strijdt ghetrocken hadden: want een rechte linie uyt
generally enjoyed a higher status than painting, as der handt henen te trecken, soude menigh
Jan Emmens has shown, and it seems important to Schoolmeester, Schrijver, oft ander die geen
point out that even laudatory poems were often Schilder en is, dickwils veel beter doen, als den
considered superior to the painting they described; besten Schilder van de Weerelt, en sulcx en wordt
these poems were thus not meant simply as by den Schilders niet veel gheacht: want daer toe
evaluations of the painting but rather as a creation ghebruyckt men de rije oft reghel. maer de Const-
in their own right. See J.A. Emmens, ‘Apelles en verstandige verwonderen en ontsetten sich,
Apollo, Nederlandse gedichten op schilderijen in wanneer sy sien eenen aerdigen en constigen
de 17de eeuw’ (article based on Emmens’ omtreck, die met een uytnemende verstandt
unpublished M.A. thesis and published in behendich is ghetrocken, waer in de Teycken-const
J.A. Emmens, Kunsthistorische opstellen, 2 vols., ten hooghsten bestaet: maer de rechte linien
Amsterdam 1981, vol. 1, pp. 5-60 and p. 205). On souden sy onghemerckt voorby gaen.’ Ibid. (note
this topic, see also Karel Porteman. ‘Geschreven 11), fol. 78r.
met de linkerhand? Letteren tegenover 18 Only in one instance does Van Mander make a
schilderkunst in de Gouden Eeuw’, in Marijke Spies distinction between the opinion of painters and that
(ed.), Historische letterkunde. Facetten van of art lovers, see Van Mander, Het Schilder-boeck
vakbeoefening, Groningen 1984, pp. 93-113. (note 11), fol. 256v (biography of Cornelis
8 See also my essay in this volume ‘By His Hand. Molenaer): ‘Voorts van d’ordinantien zijner
The Paradox of Seventeenth-Century Landtschappen, en achter-uyten, heb ick niet veel
te roemen: dan dat alles wat men van hem siet, den dat geen beter Plaet-snijders, als Albert en Lucas,
Schilders wonder wel bevalt: doch in beelden had te verwachten waren, en dat Goltzius by hun niet te
hy geen handelinghe. [...] zijn wercken zijn by den gelijcken was.’ Van Mander, Het Schilder-boeck
Const-liefdighe in grooter weerden.’ Although both (note 11), fol. 284v: See also Huijgen Leeflang and
painters and art lovers thus greatly value Cornelis Ger Luijten (eds.), Hendrick Goltzius (1558-1617):
Molenaer’s works, Van Manders wording could tekeningen, prenten en schilderijen, Amsterdam,
imply that he believed that the painters had a New York and Toledo 2003 (exh. cat.), pp. 210-215,
better judgement about the execution of cat no. 75, 1-6.
Molenaer’s works, see also below, p. 140 . 31 Lucian, quoted in Franciscus Junius, Catalogus
19 ‘Het zijn eenighe die meenen, dat dit werck by Architectorum, Mechanicatum, sed praecipue
Holbeen self niet gheheel voldaen en is: maer dat Pictorum, Statuariorum, Caelatorum, Tronatorum,
nae zijn doot, het ghene daer noch aen ghebrack aliorumque Artificum, Rotterdam 1694, p. 423.
van yemandt anders voleyndight soude wesen: Samuel van Hoogstraten, Inleyding tot de hooge
doch indient soo waer, heeft den opmaker den schoole der schilderkonst, anders de zichtbaere
Holbeens handelinghe soo verstandigh connen werelt: verdeelt in negen leerwinkels, yder bestiert
volghen, dat het geen Schilder noch Const- door eene der zanggodinnen, Rotterdam 1678,
verstandighe van verscheyden handen en souden p.76. Jan de Bisschop also discusses the anecdote
oordeelen.’ Van Mander, Het Schilder-boeck in his Paradigmata of 1671, see facsimile in Jan van
(note 11), fol. 222r: Gelder and Ingrid Jost, Jan de Bisschop and his
20 This point of view also occurs in Van Mander’s Icones & Paradigmata : classical antiquities and
descriptions of the lives of Lucas van Leyden, Pieter Italian drawings for artistic instruction in
Vlerick and Hendrick Goltzius. seventeenth century Holland, Doornspijk 1985,
21 Van Mander, Het Schilder-boeck (note 11), 2 vols., II, preface addressed to Jan Six (page not
fol. 299r. On the art lovers mentioned by Van numbered).
Mander, see Marten Jan Bok, ‘Art Lovers and their 32 According to both Junius and Hoogstraten it
Paintings. Van Mander’s Schilder-boeck as a Source was particularly important to not focus too much on
for the History of the Art Market in the Northern secondary elements or ‘Parerga’, see essay above
Netherlands’, in: Ger Luijten et al. (eds.), Dawn of ‘By His Hand: The Paradox of Seventeenth-Century
the Golden Age: Northern Netherlandish Art, 1580- Connoisseurship’ pp. 31-66, esp. pp. 49-50.
1620, Amsterdam (Rijksmuseum) 1993 (exh. cat.), 33 Franciscus Junius, The Literature of Classical
pp. 136-166. Art, Vol. I. The Painting of the Ancients, according
22 Van Mander, Het Schilder-boeck (note 11), to the English translation (1638), ed. by Keith
fol 78v. Aldrich et.al., Berkeley, Los Angeles and Oxford
23 ‘Schoenmaker, blijf bij je leest!’ is still a 1991, Junius, The Painting of the Ancients, (note 14),
proverb in Dutch. On this anecdote, see also Ernst p. 65.
van de Wetering, ‘Rembrandt’s “Satire on Art 34 This definition is taken from Eric Jan Sluijter.
Criticism” Reconsidered’, in Cynthia P. Schneider, See Eric Jan Sluijter, Rembrandt and the Female
William W. Robinson, Alice I. Davies et al. (eds.), Nude, Amsterdam 2006, pp. 195-219.
Shop Talk: Studies in Honor of Seymour Slive, 35 Paul Fréart de Chambray, Idée de la Perfection
Cambridge Mass. 1995, pp. 264-270. de la peinture, Mans 1662 [reprint 1968]. See also
24 Ibid. (note 11), fol. 23r ff, esp. 24v. Emmanuelle Delapierre and Cécile Krings, Rubens
25 Ibid. (note 11), fol. 18v-19r. contre Poussin : la querelle du coloris dans la
26 Ibid. (note 11), fol. 279v. peinture française à la fin du XVIIe siècle, Arras
27 ‘Summa, Teycken-const can alderley staten / (Musée des Beaux-Arts d’Arras) 2005 (exh. cat.).
Behulpich wesen, t’zy jonghen, oft grijsen, / Iae 36 Eric Jan Sluijter, ‘“Horrible Nature,
Vorsten, Capiteynen, en Soldaten, / Soo om van incomparible art”: Rembrandt and the depiction of
der Conste gheschickt te praten, / Als om de the female nude’ in: Rembrandt’s Women,
gheleghentheden aenwijsen, / Van sterckten en Edinburgh and London 2001 (exh. cat.), pp. 37-45,
plaetsen, daerom te prijsen’. Ibid. (note 11), fol. 10r esp. p. 42.
28 See also below, p. 140. 37 Jacques de Ville, ’t Saamenspreekinghe
29 Constantijn Huygens, De Jeugd van betreffende de architecture ende schilderkonst,
Constantijn Huygens, door hemzelf beschreven, dienende tot waerschouwinghe van alle werck-
Rotterdam 1971, pp. 65-66. luyden ende liefhebbers der selver konst; Dat zy
30 ‘Aen dese dingen is te mercken, wat onder haer aan de handelinghe alleen niet en moeten
den Menschen gonst en afgonst vermoghen, oft vergapen: maer verder moeten zien, Gouda 1628.
oock de waensucht: want sommighe die Goltzium 38 Van Mander, Het Schilder-boeck (note 11), fol.
in zijn Const meenden versmaden oft verachten, 252v.
hebben onbewist hem boven de oude beste 39 Lyckle de Vries, ‘With a Coarse Brush: Pieter
Meesters, en boven hem selven ghestelt. En dit Bruegel’s “Brooding Artist”’, Source, Notes in the
deden oock de gene, die gewent waren te seggen, History of Art, 23, 4 (2004), pp. 38-48, p. 42 ff.
40 ‘Aan Martijn de schilder / Martijn, gy snurkt 48 Bosse, Sentimens sur la Distinction des
altijdt op uwe schildery. / Het volk verstaat noch diverses manières de peinture (note 41), p. 5: ‘Par
kunst, dunkt u, noch haer waardy. / ‘t Is Waar, ‘t ainsi l’on peut dire qu’il y a en cela comme en
gemeen is bot om d’eigenschap te vatten. / Was ‘t d’autres Arts, de naturelles inclinations pour ces
volk heel wijs, het zou uw verf zoo dier niet choses, puis que mesme ceux qui n’ont point de
schatten.’ Jan Vos, Alle de gedichten, Amsterdam pratique, en ont ou peuvent avoir quelque
1726, p. 518 no. 583; cited in: Gregor J.M. Weber, connoissance; Mais de dire qu’elle soit approchante
Der Lobtopos des ‘lebenden’ Bildes, Jan Vos und de celle qu’en peut avoir un Excellent Praticien
sein ‘Zeege der Schilderkunst’ von 1654, exercé en icelles, cela est impossible à mon avis’.
Hildesheim, Zürich and New York 1991, p. 80. 49 Bosse, Sentimens sur la Distinction des
41 Abraham Bosse, Sentimens sur la Distinction diverses manières de peinture (note 41), p. 71: ‘Ainsi
des diverses manières de peinture, dessin et l’on peut juger, que tous les bons Praticiens qui se s
gravure et des orginaux d’avec leurs copies, Paris ont appliquez ou adonnez a esplucher toutes ces
1649, p. 2: ‘il y en a divers autres qui apres avoir particularitez, peuvent estre les plus entendus à
retenu & proferé quantité de Termes de l’art discerner toutes ces diverses manieres, &
comme, de l’Antique, du Raphael,du Grand, de la distinctions d’Originaux & Copies, & de plus les
grande ou forte Maniere, du Bon ou mauvais Goust, bonnes d’avec les mauvaises; & aussi qu’il est facile
d’Ordaonnance, de Disposition, de bein Historié, de juger que c’est par le moyen de tels connoissans,
de belle Groupe, du Fier, d’Expression, D’Union, que les curieux non Praticiens, peuvent avoir esté &
de bien Ensemble, bien Touché ou Heurté, d’Artiste, estre instruits à faire la distinction de toutes ces
Croqué, de Vaghezza, Sevelt, Frais, Tendre, Dur, diverses choses’
Coupé, Tranché, Noyé, grand Iour, grand Ombre, 50 Jonathan Brown, Kings and Connoisseurs
Teinte, & demye Teinte, & plusieurs autres telles (note 10), p. 232.
choses, s’imaginent qu’on les doit tenir pour tres 51 Van Hoogstraten, Inleyding tot de hooge
entendüs ou connoissans en icelle; & ce qui leur schoole der schilderkonst (note 31), p. **3: ‘Soo
augmente encore davantage cette bonne opinion, komt dan deze onze Inleiding ook zeer wel te pas
c’est qu’ils ont quelque fois rencontré à connoistre voor alle Liefhebbers van de Schilderkonst, schoon
quelques manieres de Peindre, ce qui est pourtant zy in de selve onervaere zijn, om in ‘t koopen van
tres-peu de chose, dautant qu’il y en a telles, qu’un Konststukken niet bedrogen te worden, want zy
aveugle les pouroit discerner en les touchant’. zullen die waerdeeren nae de maete der deugden,
42 Junius, The Painting of the Ancients (note 33), die in de zelve zijn waergenomen, en geen
p. 296. neamkoopers blijven, gelijk’er tans veel zijn, die van
43 De Vries, With a Coarse Brush (note 39), pp. d’een of anderen snoeshaen verleyt, kaele vodden
38-48. in grooten waerden houden, om dat hun is wijs
44 Lyckle de Vries (De Vries, With a Coarse Brush gemaekt, datze van d’een of d’ander groot Meester
(note 39), pp. 38-48.) suspected that the brush was geschildert zijn. Niet dat ik zeggen wil, dat deeze
mostly used by house painters. I believe that was mijne Inleiding allen Liefhebbers de oogen zal
certainly the case for a 1635 emblem of the openen, dat zy zelfs strax van de kunst zullen
Haarlem ‘house painters’ (kladschilders) features kunnen oordeelen: dat zy verre; maer zy zullen uit
the exact same type of brush, see Fr. D.O. Obreen, ons werk gemakkelijk kunnen begrijpen, waer van
Archief Nederlandsche kunstgeschiedenis, dat men oordelen moet, en dan zullen zy, met
Rotterdam 1877-1890, vol. 1, 1877-78, Appendix behulp van een ervaren Schilder, de deugden en
‘Blazoenen van achttien bedrijven behoorende feilen, die in eenig werk zijn, klaer en
onder het gild van sint Lucas. anno 1635’, plate 7. onderscheidelijk kunnen naspeuren.’
45 Junius, The Painting of the Ancients (note 33), 52 ‘S’aggiunge che il colore, la prospettiva,
p. 68-69. l’espression dell’affetto, et altre cose simili
46 The French painter Nicolas Poussin and the rappresentate et espresse dal pittore, son oggetti
Italian painter, sculptor and architect Gianlorenzo comuni / che si riconoscono e giudicano senza
Bernini expressed similar opinions, although Bernini l’abito della pittura et suo modo d’operare.’ Giulio
reputedly made exceptions. See Nicolas Poussin, Mancini, Considerazioni sulla Pittura, publicato per
Lettres et propos sur l’art, with an introduction by la prima volta da Adriana Maracchi con il
Anthony Blunt, Paris 1964, p. 123; Paul Fréart de commento di Luigi Salerno (Academia Nazionale
Chantelou, Diary of the Cavaliere Bernini’s Visit to dei Lincei), Rome 1956, p. 291 ff.
France (1665), with an introduction by Anthony 53 Junius, The Painting of the Ancients (note 33),
Blunt, Princeton 1985, pp. 226 and 263. p. 68.
47 ‘13. Les bons Peintres cachent tousjours 54 Junius, The Painting of the Ancients (note 33),
quelque secrette intelligence dans leurs ouvrages, pp. 64-65.
qui vaut plus que le reste, mais les Maîtres seuls les 55 Jan Orlers, Beschrijvinge der stad Leyden,
recognoissent, et en ont le sentiment.’ Binet, Essay Leiden 1614; Theodoor Schrevelius, Harlemias, ofte,
des merveilles (note 3), p. 358. om beter te seggen, de eerste stichtinghe der stadt
Haerlem, Haarlem 1648; see also Eric Jan Sluijter, ‘Art Dealers in the Seventeenth-century Netherlands’
Verwondering over de schilderijenproductie in de (note 60), p. 247.
Gouden Eeuw (inaugural lecture 2002), Amsterdam 65 Montias, ‘Art Dealers in the Seventeenth-
2003, pp. 15-17; Eric Jan Sluijter, Seductress of century Netherlands’ (note 60), p. 246.
Sight, Studies in Dutch Art of the Golden Age, 66 Koenraad Jonckheere, The Auction of King
Zwolle 2000, p. 204. William’s Paintings (1713). Elite international Art
56 Philips Angel, Lof der schilder-konst, Leiden Trade at the End of the Dutch Golden Age, Oculi:
1642. Studies in the Arts of the Low Countries. 11,
57 Junius, The Painting of the Ancients (note 33), Amsterdam 2008.
pp. 68-69. 67 Jaap van der Veen, ‘By his Own Hand, The
58 André Félibien, Entretien sur les vies et les Valuation of Autograph Paintings in the
ouvrages des plus excellens peintres anciens et Seventeenth-Century’, in: Ernst van de Wetering
modernes, Paris 1666-1688, p. 86. et al., A Corpus of Rembrandt Paintings, Dordrecht
59 Roger de Piles, Conversations sur la 2005, vol. 4, pp. 1-29 and appendix pp. 30-41, esp.
Connoissance de la Peinture, Paris 1677, p. 233 ff. p. 18.
Also in seventeenth-century paintings, art lovers 68 ‘Ce seroit une chose bien estrange que les
are almost as a rule depicted while studying Tableaux ne fussent fait que pour les Peintres.’
pictures from very close nearby. De Piles, Conversations (note 59), p. 21.
60 On dealers in the seventeenth-century
Netherlands, see J. Michael Montias, ‘Art Dealers
in the Seventeenth-century Netherlands’, Simiolus
18 (1988), pp. 244-256. On guilds and the
expanding market, see Ed Romein and Gerbrand
Korevaar, ‘Dutch Guilds and the Threat of Public
Sales’, in: Hans Van Miegroet and Neil De Marchi
(eds.), Mapping Markets for Paintings in Early
Modern Europe 1450-1750, Turnhout 2006,
pp. 101-128.
61 Montias, ‘Art Dealers in the Seventeenth-
century Netherlands’ (note 60), p. 245.
62 Jaap van der Veen, ‘Galerij en kabinet, vorst
en burger, Schilderijencollecties in de
Nederlanden’, in: Ellinoor Bergvelt, et al. (eds.),
Kabinetten, galerijen en musea: het verzamelen en
presenteren van naturalia en kunst van 1500 tot
heden, Heerlen 1993, pp. 145-188; Cindy van
Keulen, ‘Liefhebbers van de schilderkunst in het
Lucasgilde’, Simulacrum 5, 2 (1996), pp. 21-23.
63 ‘bij aldien hetzelve volgens de voorschreven
articulen werd gepractiseert [het aan banden
leggen van de handel] soo sullen voor het eerst
verscheijde liefhebbers die (om aencomende
konstenaeren in haere konst te animeren) nu
meest alle hare stucken afkoopen genootsaekt syn
haere handen thuijs te houden also sij anders
geene weeg souden weeten haere gekofte
stucken te vertieren’, quoted in Van Keulen,
Liefhebbers van de schilderkunst (note 62), p. 22.
64 A 1656 guild regulation stated that: ‘Alle
liefhebbers Ingezetenen van de Hage ende
Jurisdictie van dien sullen sonder becroon en
tegeseggen van de Confrerije, vermogen aen
uijtheemsche Mrs. eenige stucken en wercken te
besteden, deselve haer aff te coopen, In den Hage
‘t haren huijse te brengen, behoudel.; dat sij daer-
mede niet en sullen vermogen eenige publicque
venduen (te houden) ten sij ‘s selffde bij
Burgemeester om redenen wierde toegestaen.’,
quoted in Van Keulen, Liefhebbers van de
schilderkunst (note 62), p. 22., see also Montias,
148 NE I L DE M AR C H I AND H ANS J . VAN M I E GR OE T
Chapter 5
Neil De Marchi and
Hans J. Van Miegroet
The Rise of the Dealer-

Auctioneer in Paris:
Information and Transparency
in a Market for Netherlandish
Paintings*
Dealer-auctioneers and connoisseurs
Records indicate that specialist dealers have been operating as intermediaries in mar-
kets for paintings since at least the early sixteenth century. Throughout much of that
long period, dealers served connoisseurs, who assumed, by virtue of their inherited
status and wealth and the leisure and education both afforded, the role of arbiter in
determining quality, and taste in the collecting of artworks.1 During the sixteenth and
seventeenth centuries, however, commercial wealth in the Low Countries, began to
shift some of that role to specialist dealers; and, during the eighteenth century, in
Paris, a new breed of dealer, whom we shall call the dealer-auctioneer, further dis-
placed the connoisseur.
That there was a change can be inferred from the increases in sales held and col-
lections formed. The number of sales in Paris rose from c. 140 in the first half of the
seventeenth century to c. 1,600 in the second half. Meanwhile, by Pomian’s count,
collections grew from 150 in the period 1700-1720, to more than 500 in the four dec-
ades immediately prior to the Revolution.2 These are striking increases. Nevertheless,
to read displacement into these changes requires that we specify the change of roles
assumed by dealers; or more precisely, successful appropriations of some of the dis-
tinctive roles previously associated with connoisseurship. We will try to do just that
here.
We can trace this kind of realignment of roles in the moves of two key innovators
among dealers: Edmé-François Gersaint, who operated from 1718 to 1750, and Jean-
Baptiste Pierre LeBrun, who was active from 1763 to 1813. There were others of note
as well. Gersaint stood out in the first half of the century, but LeBrun was merely first
among his peers: he competed within a group of dealer-auctioneers who included
Pierre Rémy, Alexandre Paillet and Pierre François Basan.3 We have not made a group
study, so generalizations are inappropriate, but it is probably fair to consider Gersaint
and Lebrun as prototypical in key respects. A sketch of contemporary developments in
the art market will clarify what we have in mind.
Since the early 1990s, the leading international auction houses have been buying
up galleries and dealerships, thus acquiring access to artwork and to additional clients
and potential vendors, along with whatever privileged information is linked to both.
These secrets complement the in-house expertise in the researching of provenances and
authenticity, and in taking the pulse of the market, built up over a much longer period.
The leading houses have also branched out into financial services; and, in particular
markets, they have blurred the distinction between first sale and resale. Moreover, they
have refined the art of courting important collectors through pre-sale viewings that are
part social event and, part – like their catalogues – a kind of curated exhibition. And,
through their dealerships, they have acquired a connection with the now-ubiquitous art
fairs, rendering still more seamless the mix they represent of formerly distinct roles:
arbitrageur, dealer, agent, marketer, expert, professional auctioneer and adviser to col-
lectors. All of these roles are now inextricably trade-related, but expertise and the assess-
ment of quality were once the preserve of connoisseurs, while the trade aspects were left
to their trusted agents, or dealers. The first to challenge the separation of roles and unite
aspects of them all in their own person, were Gersaint and LeBrun. Others preceded or
followed them in some respects, but these two broke down distinctions across the board.
They set out at a time when relationships between dealer and connoisseur were
fraught. Gersaint maintained good relations with connoisseurs such as the Swedish
Ambassador, Count Carl Gustaf Tessin, and the Comte de Caylus, and he even enjoyed
close friendships with some, including the chevalier De la Roque. However, his own posi-
tion was complex. He considered connoisseurs to be the very model of learning and dis-
criminating taste; at the same time, he encouraged would-be collectors in new and radi-
cal beliefs. Chief among them were that (a) even without a connoisseur’s education, they
might become collectors; and (b) even without a connoisseur’s wealth, there are afford-
able paintings that are also acceptable: credible, if more modest, substitutes for work by
Italian fifteenth and sixteenth-century masters and such seventeenth-century French
emulators as Poussin and Lorrain. As if these general positions were not subversive
enough, Gersaint actually laid it down that pleasing affect must be the first considera-
tion of a would-be amateur in choosing a painting. And he both challenged the notion
that a high price necessarily signals quality and questioned whether a painting without
attribution is necessarily unworthy.
The revolutionary import of Gersaint’s views was muted because he also impressed
upon aspiring amateurs the necessity of book knowledge and lots of comparative view-
ing experience. Some of the required knowledge he provided in his catalogue commen-
taries, along with information to identify family clusters of artists, each of whom could
be thought of as substitutable for the others at the level of sensual pleasure. What ena-
bled Gersaint to satisfy both connoisseurs and new collectors was that he considered the
two to be non-competing groups. He, and everyone else, knew that aspiring lovers of art
could not expect to actually reach connoisseurial status, the necessary conditions for
which were partly determined at birth. This meant that the only real challenge in Ger-
saint’s novel advice and inclusive practice was that connoisseurs might lose some of
their claim to exclusivity. And even that was not terribly controversial: superficial mixing
among classes, for example, could occur at Gersaint’s sales without there being any real
blurring of social distinctions.4
The notion of affordable yet acceptable substitutes helped engender interest in the
unfamiliar or lesser-known Netherlandish artists that Gersaint gathered together at
sales in the North and took with him back to Paris. There, Nicholas Berchem and Jan
Both, for example, were presented as supplying, within the family of Italianate land-
scapists, comparable pleasing properties to those of the unavailable and unaffordable
Claude Lorrain. And for buyers charmed by Jan I Brueghel’s peasant festivities, but
unable to consider (or find) an original, or who preferred their peasants a little more
couth than either Brueghel or Brouwer’s kind, there was David II Teniers, whose works
were already discreetly appreciated by some collectors in Paris and had been repro-
duced as colored prints and his peasant festivities at times even appropriated as
‘French’ farm (basse cours) scenes.5
Gersaint’s success in promoting Netherlandish paintings to the French, in the face
of an inherited hierarchy of genres and defining characteristics of the art of paintings
that set most of them well below Italian histories, owed something to Roger de Piles’
sustained campaign in favor of coloring. Nonetheless, his efforts to reach out to new
collectors and modify their attitudes, on the one hand, and the prices Netherlandish
paintings fetched in his sales, on the other, cannot have been entirely unrelated.6
The dealer-auctioneers of eighteenth-century Paris differed from the dealers who
held public sales of paintings in the seventeenth- and early eighteenth-century Nether-
lands and London, in two important respects. First, they made themselves knowledge-
able, and in this respect more like connoisseurs. Gersaint, for example, invented the
catalogue raisonné; he made a study of prints with advice on how to recognize artist’s
proofs; and he published a discursive table alphabétique of artists. LeBrun must have
kept meticulous sales records, for he published both provenances and past prices for
individual paintings – details previously known to and closely guarded by connois-
seurs and dealers respectively. He also wrote a compendious study of artists compris-
ing the principal national schools. Indeed, this was an element in the important role
he played in gaining acceptance for new methods of display, including improved light-
ing, that stressed classification by school, and chronology, rather than the older con-
noisseurial mode of juxtaposing the works of a selected artist to reveal superior and
inferior achievement, a mode still discernible in Gersaint’s advice.7 Moreover, both
men could have claimed to have viewed as many outstanding collections as all but the
most widely-traveled connoisseur, certainly to have seen more Netherlandish paint-
ings (and, in the case of LeBrun, possibly also Spanish) than any connoisseur in Paris.
The contrast with dealers who also held sales in Amsterdam and London could not
have been greater. Auctioneering in those two cities was professional but did not imply
a more than superficial knowledge of the goods being offered. Possibly the leading
auctioneer in late-seventeenth century London, for example, openly disclaimed such
knowledge, while, as Koenraad Jonckheere has noted in his essay in this volume, the
attributions of even the most prominent of Amsterdam dealers were scoffed at by true
art lovers in the early decades of the eighteenth century.8 Similar tension – acknowl-
edged mutual need, but distrust – characterized dealer-connoisseur relations in Lon-
don until well into the eighteenth century.9 However, since the knowledge gap that
distinguished the connoisseur from the average dealer in London and Amsterdam was
virtually obliterated by Gersaint and LeBrun, the relationship between them and the
connoisseurs could proceed on a different footing, one of mutual acceptance and
something approaching respect.
The second difference is that Gersaint and LeBrun, unlike earlier dealers in
London and Amsterdam, developed sophisticated selling strategies that they applied
to new collectors. As already noted in the case of Gersaint, this introduced a second,
non-competitive, group alongside the connoisseurs. That feature allowed our two
dealers to go beyond promoting paintings exclusively by offering an attribution or
asserting superior quality, practices that had made their predecessors easy targets for
connoisseurs. As Koenraad Jonckheere also shows, earlier dealers made attributions
stripped of nuance. They stressed desired and well-known masters, or deployed the
family name in cases where there were several artists in a family, appealing to name
brand rather than trying to distinguish whether the work was by father or son, an origi-
nal, a copy, ‘circle of’, and so on, as is now common. They left it up to connoisseurs to
make more accurate distinctions. That connoisseurs were not fixated on attribution –
they also valued provenance and, of course, quality – only made the dealers’ presenta-
tions seem clumsier still, even if, empirically, paintings presented as superior often
did reach higher prices in a sale.
Gersaint, however, as noted, distanced himself from mere attribution and infer-
ring quality from price; instead he stressed comparative assessments of quality and
the grounds on which these rested. LeBrun published more specific information on
provenance, and he added past sales prices. This helped shift the balance of informa-
tion and power: his citing of past prices was an appeal to a market consensus on value,
making it more difficult for connoisseurs to deny its relevance. Even more importantly,
he used price increases to encourage new collectors to regard paintings as a reliable
investment. Success in this endeavor would have enlarged the market; hence connois-
seurs who disdained the market’s judgement increasingly risked appearing out of
touch. Dealer-auctioneers such as Gersaint and LeBrun thus put connoisseurs on
notice that their disputes and their voices perhaps no longer mattered most.
A feature of these dealer-auctioneers’ promotional efforts that we will stress is that
their sales were more transparent than anything seen in the past. This too put individ-
ual connoisseurs at a disadvantage. It is the individual connoisseur who is our focus in
this because, while connoisseurs as a group might be willing to share their knowledge
and judgements concerning, say authorship,10 in a sale situation they are competi-
tors.11 If an auctioneer reveals all that is known about provenance, attribution and con-
dition, this dilutes the private knowledge of any one bidder and correspondingly less-
ens the chance that the hammer price of a lot will be below the true (informed market
consensus) value. On this, see further the section on transparency below. And if indi-
vidual connoisseurs – those most likely to possess information about attribution, etc.
– are weakened as bidders, the market consensus acquires greater credibility, thereby
further restricting the ability of connoisseurs as a group to challenge market forces.
From here on we will concentrate on the major innovations made by LeBrun,
emphasizing the ways in which his promotional strategies were an advance on those of
Gersaint.12 We do not aim at completeness. In particular, we neglect LeBrun’s roles in
re-shaping thinking on museum design and the formation and display of collections,
which have been admirably treated by others.13 Our coverage of LeBrun’s catalogues,
moreover, is partial. The LeBrun record as a whole is enormous: his career spanned
five decades and his known auction catalogues alone total at least 172, according to
the Getty Provenance Index, while his buying trips abroad numbered 43 by 1802. We
are familiar with 85 catalogues, based on their availability. From this group we have
studied 21, chosen to include (i) sales with price annotations and buyers’ names; (ii)
some sales known to have been compiled by Lebrun himself; and (iii) collections of
persons linked to finance as well as those of aristocrats. One was included especially
because (iv) it survives together with, for each day of the sale, a feuille de vacation,
giving the actual order of lots. Our selected catalogues cover the period 1763-1784.14
Following a short and obviously incomplete biographical sketch, we will proceed
through five topics, as follows, emphasizing in each case a contrast with or extension
of Gersaint’s marketing strategies: the information LeBrun included in his catalogues;
his techniques for squeezing more revenue out of a sale; his emphasis on paintings as
assets rather than as collectibles exclusively; his exposure of new artists; and his inter-
nationalizing of auction sales.
LeBrun, like his father, also Pierre, was trained as a painter. In his own view, how-
ever, he ‘had not enough talent to become a great painter’ and turned instead to the
business of art.15 He supplied and was keeper of the paintings of the king’s brother,
the Comte d’Artois, later known as Charles X, and of the Duc d’Orléans. In the 1770s,
he acquired a house (Hôtel de Lubert) in the Rue de Cléry, where he kept many of his
masterpieces, certain of which Louise-Elisabeth Vigée-Lebrun (1755-1842) was
allowed to copy.16 The two were married on 11 January 1776, but he asked her to keep
the marriage secret for the moment because he had promised to marry the daughter of
a Dutch art dealer with whom he had ongoing business deals.17 By 1778, the Hôtel de
Lubert had become the setting for the most fashionable gatherings in pre-Revolution-
ary Paris. Vigée-Lebrun became painter to Marie-Antoinette and hosted her own
celebrated salon.
Information and transparency
Gersaint, as noted, held the conviction that anyone could become a lover of paintings
through exposure and instruction. He therefore prepared catalogues that were long
and discursive and in which readers could find a basis for assessing the relative merits
of particular artists. Even more practically, he encouraged would-be collectors to trust
their senses: to pick out paintings which for them combined similar pleasure-yielding
effects, independent of price and whether the artist was known or unknown. He would
advise as to whether the paintings in such clusters were acceptable for a credible col-
lection, at which point a prospective buyer might go on to select that subset which pro-
vided equal pleasure per unit cost (the likely price at a forthcoming auction). Then, at
the actual sale, he or she could bid for the one or ones that were affordable (i.e., within
their budget).18 Gersaint introduced viewing periods prior to sales, when potential buy-
ers could engage others in discussing the paintings that appealed to them or perhaps
overhear the judgements of others. And, to further encourage participation by the
unpracticed, he eschewed private sales of items in conjunction with an auction, and
adopted the ‘English’ or ascending, open-outcry bidding method, which conveyed
important information to bidders, even as a sale progressed.19
These innovations simplified choice for the novice, potentially lessened their fears,
and gave assurance to participants that they were being treated fairly. Such changes all
count as moves toward increasing what in modern parlance would be called transpar-
ency. The modern economic theory of auctions treats transparency primarily as an
information issue and suggests that sharing all information is the auctioneer’s best
strategy for maximizing sales receipts. Not to do so runs the following risk. If, in a sale,
knowing (and known to be knowing) bidders seem to be holding back on a particular
lot, others begin to suspect that there must be something negative about it that has
been revealed to some but not to them. They too therefore hold back, in which case the
lot is likely to be knocked down at a hammer price below its full market value.20
There have been counterarguments put forward, specifically for maintaining secret
reserves;21 but this remains a persuasive general line of thinking.
Information may be restricted to information about the condition of a lot, but it can
also include its provenance, and realized prices in past auctions. As shown in the page
(fig. 1, below) from a 1749 catalogue, Gersaint offered his readers discursive commen-
taries on selected lots,22 but it was left to LeBrun to impart provenances and price his-
tories. Thus, LeBrun, in a page from the sales catalogue of the Collection of the Comte
de Vaudreuil in 1784 (fig. 2), under the entry for a Peasant Feast/ fête flamande by
Teniers, mentions both its provenance as well as the prices it fetched at two previous
sales.23 This painting was one of the many paintings by Teniers owned by the
Comtesse de Verrue. It passed into the Lempereur collection for 10,001 livres, then
sold, in 1773, to Randon de Boisset for 9,999 livres.24 By mentioning the pedigree of
these well-known art collectors and the high and sustained prices fetched in previous
sales, LeBrun made it clear that this was both an important painting and one which
would hold its value. In 1784, the painting sold for 1,001 livres more than in its last
appearance at auction. Whether the work’s distinguished provenance and the fact that
it had held its value had anything to do with this cannot be determined from the cata-
logue alone, but the information cannot have hurt. Gersaint, by contrast (fig. 2), gave
information about a painting: size, chiefly, but occasionally something more, such as
where a painting fell within the career of the artist or one of the collections it had been
in. And he added his qualitative assessment of it, but without giving its full prove-
nance or price history.
What possible advantage could there be in disclosing past price history? This is as yet
a lightly researched area; however, in stable market conditions such disclosure should
assist buyers and sellers to move more quickly towards prices close to the truemarket
(i.e., informed consensus) value of the lots on offer. This saves bidders at an auction
from making exploratory bids in relative ignorance, just to test the market. Some of
those are likely to be inappropriate, which could prove costly; and whether they are too
high or too low may result in a winning bid that differs from the true (consensus) mar-
ket price. Auctioneers themselves also gain from avoiding this: there should be fewer
unexpectedly high winning bids but also fewer buy-ins (low bids that fail to reach the
reserve). Buy-ins entail costs, both direct and in terms of opportunities lost, to vendor
and auctioneer alike.
With transparency, participation is likely to increase, and the bidding to become more
honest, generating truer values, which means higher sales revenue and a larger com-
mission for the dealer-auctioneer. But the auctioneer-dealer who discloses all of the
known information also gains at the expense of competing auctioneer-dealers who do
not disclose, since if bidding is more open buyers (and sellers) would probably
gravitate towards the more transparent auctions since they are more efficient: true
market prices are reached more quickly and at lower cost (because fewer inappropriate
exploratory bids are likely).
There is some empirical support for the faster movement of prices towards true mar-
ket valuations where there is disclosure of price history,25 while the notion that disclos-
ing dealer-auctioneers can use disclosure as an alternative to price competition with
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1. 2.
Figures 1-2. Page from a sales catalogue (left) of an assortment of paintings
brought together by E. F. Gersaint, in 1749, and a page of the LeBrun
sales catalogue (right) of the Collection of the Comte de Vaudreuil in 1784,
showing both provenances and prices fetched at auction of David Teniers’
Fête Flamande (lot no. 31).
rivals gains some currency from the impression that LeBrun was regarded as a high
price dealer-auctioneer: he could afford to be if his auctions were more attractive
because they were more ‘efficient’.26
LeBrun, like Gersaint, publicized his sales in the Mercure de France, as well as the
Journal de Paris and the Journal des Arts, des Sciences et de la Litérature. This was the
case, for instance, with the high profile sale in April 1811 of paintings acquired in
Switzerland, Flanders, and Holland (collections M.M. Smeth, Clément de Jongh, and
Robert de Bale).27 In contrast to Gersaint, however, LeBrun paid more attention to visu-
alization. In March 1810, for example, the sales catalogue of paintings acquired on a
trip to Spain, the south of France and Italy, was accompanied by two volumes with
illustrated engravings, a major improvement on the Gersaint catalogue.28
LeBrun also appears to have carefully chosen the sequence of clusters (by national
school) in which lots were actually offered (see tables 1 and 2 and appendix 1).
Sequencing is normally associated with a perceived need to start strong and inject
quality paintings at various points when momentum might otherwise be lost. Such
moves are deliberate but not manipulative. They do not decrease the amount of
information shared and involve no reduction in transparency; they simply represent a

more active exploitation of the possibilities for maximizing prices. We shall return to
this in the third section, ‘Techniques for squeezing revenue out of sales’.
Paintings as asset
LeBrun showed a keen awareness that paintings might be investment assets as well as
giving aesthetic satisfaction; but, in an unprecedented move, he also linked these two
via the common denominator pleasure. This is expressed in very interesting language
in his introduction of the Poullain sale in 1780. In a section on ‘la valeur réelle et mer-
cantile des tableaux et sculptures’ – in modern terminology, on the intrinsic and
exchange value of paintings and sculpture – LeBrun writes:29 ‘Whether one buys from
taste or speculation, it is comforting to know that during one’s lifetime the pleasures
of ownership will not be troubled by the fear of losing money ... An owner has the
advantage, always desired by a responsible man, of enjoying his wealth and seeing it
increase …’30
Behind this lays the following extended line of reasoning, based on various
remarks by LeBrun.31 The value of fine paintings rests not solely on their merit but also
on their rarity. The number of excellent painters is very small to begin with, and the
number of their works is always being reduced, by accident and misuse. Moreover, the
rarity of excellent paintings is absolute, in the sense that no two are the same. This
unique feature, along with increased wealth and the spread of taste, and a declining
supply, makes the market value of fine paintings more secure than that of other col-
lectibles. Moreover, one may take comfort in the fact that fine paintings always
increase in price. Hence, even if it is necessary to go into debt to acquire such paint-
ings, one’s pleasure in ownership is untrammeled by the fear that one might suffer
capital loss.
On the face of it there is an unjustified claim slipped in here: LeBrun could not
guarantee that the prices of paintings would always increase. This is clear even from
the case of the famous Teniers fête flamande, discussed earlier. Prior to its resale for a
record price in 1784 it had gone through a period when it merely held its value. Paint-
ings may hold their value when that of other financial assets decline; but, if, as recent
research shows, the prices of paintings, broadly speaking, move up and down with
perceived financial wealth, then either inflation, which reduces the real value of wealth
held in the form of bonds, or a collapse of stock prices, will tend to be followed by a
pause or slump in the art market.32 Political events, moreover, can serve as the catalyst
that destroys financial wealth. A knowledge of sixteenth-century inflation, royal disa-
vowals of debt obligations in the past, and the stock price bubble and collapse of
1719-1720, should have warned French investors not to presume that a sustained rise
in prices, such as paintings appeared to be undergoing when LeBrun wrote so optimis-
tically, would necessarily continue, LeBrun’s argument based on scarcity and unique-
ness notwithstanding.
Thus LeBrun’s statement is probably better read as saying that the owner of paint-
ings, at the present time, has a reasonable expectation of enjoying a price increase.
That would take care of the speculative motive he mentions; for the speculator does
not buy to hold but to turn a profit by buying and selling again quickly. Even so, how-
ever, LeBrun’s argument works only if he was assuming that the pleasures of owning
fine paintings are real, considerable and assured, even if the guarantee against tempo-
rary price declines was not, as it could not be, iron clad. It is interesting that he does,
in fact, speak of the pleasures of ownership during one’s lifetime.
What are the pleasures of ownership? There is, on the one hand, the enjoyment of
viewing. On the other, there is also an accrual of user-value which comes from
enhanced knowledge about and understanding of paintings, one’s own and those of
others. This user-value grows; it thus results in a sort of acquired personal cultural or
connoisseurial capital. The first of these pleasures is a flow, the second too, though it
accumulates into a stock. Both, in any case, are perks that depend on the ownership of
paintings, not on their market value. Hence these pleasures can go on flowing, and in
the case of the second, growing, as a form of pleasure accruing to owners of paintings,
independently of what market prices do. That could not be said of any other form of
investment back then, save perhaps in well-placed land.
Whether we should understand that LeBrun considered knowledge about paint-
ings as a form of subjective wealth (private cultural capital) transferred gradually to an
owner, in addition to the flow of viewing pleasure paintings provide, is of course moot.
He speaks of a ‘natural increment’ in the value of fine paintings due to the spread of
taste and the growth of wealth. The expression parallels contemporary Physiocratic
views on agricultural economy. According to the Physiocrats the annual harvest or val-
ue added is partly consumed and in part re-invested as seed-capital. Consuming grain
is akin to viewing pleasure and seed capital analogous to cultural capital. This does
not settle the issue as to what exactly LeBrun intended. However, he does seem to have
adopted a single index – subjective pleasure – to describe both the pleasures of owning
fine paintings and the ‘comfort’ that comes from knowing that their prices will, on the
whole, increase. Linking, as this does, both the financial investment aspect of paint-
ings and the direct pleasures from owning them, was a novel move; it took him a step
beyond Gersaint, who stressed the availability of the latter to everyone instead. Others
prior to LeBrun, of course, knew the intrinsic value-market value distinction; but with-
in the connoisseurial tradition it was generally insisted that the two be kept apart.33
Note that LeBrun was hardly the first to acknowledge the role of commercial inter-
ests as a force in the art market. Buyers in the Dutch market in the first half of the sev-
enteenth century were predominantly merchants, and they were also central in the
early days of the London market, starting in the late 1680s.34 It was novel, however, for
a dealer-auctioneer to actively court merchants and financiers. The list of names
involved here is impressive. Financiers to whom LeBrun sold include De Boullongne,
de Beaujon, Jombert de Montigny, Legendre and Tronchin (a Swiss). Fellow dealers
among his buyers (whether acting on their own behalf or as agent) include Léger,
Lange, Basan, Boileau, Desmaretz, Donjeux, Dulac, Dubois, Feuillet, Langlier, Le
Rouge, Paillet, Quesne (or Quenet), Rémy, Servat, and Sollier. 35 Some of these no doubt
were acting for merchants or financiers.
Techniques for squeezing additional revenue out of sales
Here we look at some of the ways in which LeBrun modified the Gersaint auction not,
to repeat, by lessening transparency, but by sustaining bidder interest and enhancing
the momentum or mood of expectation (of higher prices) in a sale.
We noted earlier that Gersaint separated private sales from his auctions, probably
to create the appearance of fairness. If private sales are allowed to intrude on an
open outcry auction, favors can be done. An auctioneer can maintain pretence that a
bidding sequence is real, when in fact a pre-determined buyer and price has already
been selected; to that buyer at a certain point, the auctioneer peremptorily knocks
down a lot for a fictitious price. It might appear that these types of action could harm
an auctioneer, but relationships and tradeoffs are involved which make that unlikely
in the longer run. The point in any case is that lack of clarity, even a suspicion of
favoritism, will deter participation, especially on the part of novices.
LeBrun, like Gersaint, printed catalogues, but he also printed vacation sheets
(appendix 1), indicating the actual order in which lots would be brought forward, a
new sheet for each day of a sale. These sheets superseded the printed catalogue as to
the order in which paintings would be presented, though, in many cases, LeBrun also
used them to remind participants of the collections a painting had graced – to give
abbreviated pedigrees – and to mention the prices fetched by those same paintings at
past sales. As such, they maintained and even enhanced transparency, whilst also
serving as promotional aids.
LeBrun’s vacation sheets reveal his close attention to the way lots were grouped
and ordered. They also reveal a preferred ordering that may be at odds with what Koen-
raad Jonckheere has found for Dutch sales in the early eighteenth century, where the
most costly paintings always appeared in the beginning of a catalogue, though paint-
ings were not necessarily auctioned according to the catalogue numbers.36 LeBrun
imposed an invariable general order by national school: Italian paintings first, fol-
lowed by Netherlandish, with French last. Tables 1 and 2 summarize the sequential
orders for two sales, one of which is fully transcribed in appendix 1. Note that the
order holds not just for the sale as a whole but for each day of the proceedings. Moreo-
ver, as charts 1-5, for the first of these sales (the Poullain), confirm, the average price
paid for the middle group, the Netherlandish, was distinctly higher than for the open-
ing and closing groups, the Italian and French. There are exceptions for individual
lots: two paintings by Lorrain (lot 104) and one by J.B. Santerre (lot 110) from the col-
lection of Augustin Blondel de Gagny (1695-1776), financier and Intendant des Menus-
Plaisirs, whose collection was perhaps the best known in Paris;37 and an Adam and Eve
by Francois F. Le Moyne (lot 114) from the collection of the Prince de Conti
(1717-1776). However, the rule is as shown by the charts.
Table 1. Numbers and distribution of paintings offered by national origin over the first five days of a six-
day auction, Poullain collection, starting 15 March 1780.
Source: Lebrun sale (Poullain, Paris, 1780).

Table 2. Numbers and distribution of paintings offered by national origin over the first five days of a six-
day auction, Véron Collection, starting 11 December 1784.
Source: Catalogue d’une belle collection de tableaux des trois Ecoles; Dessins,
Estampes, miniatures, Terre cuites, Bronzes, Porcelaines, Laques, Bijoux,
Piere gravés et autres objects de Curiosité; par J. B. P. Lebrun (Paris, 1784)
Tables 1 and 2 also show that the Italian and French offerings were very few. They
ranged from three to seven and three to 13, combining both sales, whereas the Nether-
landish paintings were much more numerous, 16 to 24.38 In both the Poullain sale and
the sale of the Véron collection, LeBrun maintained a roughly constant total of lots for
each day: about 25 lots (Poullain) and 40 (Véron), the implied time per lot perhaps
reflecting the relative excellence of the paintings in each collection.
Charts 1-5: Poullain sales results over five days: order of lots and groupings (Italian-Netherlandish-French)
from each day’s feuille de vacation: order (x-axis); prices fetched (y-axis).
As noted earlier, LeBrun’s deliberate grouping and ordering of the lots was not part of
a deception. On the contrary, he was quite up-front about what he was doing. More-
over, it is probable that buyers were actually more pleased with his practice; it allowed
them to attend and stay only for the lots that interested them.
Did the information LeBrun offered on provenance and sales history, and the
attention he paid to the order in which lots were offered actually pay off? An answer
might be given if we had a sale actually put together by him, the paintings all having
been acquired by him, and we knew the costs of those purchases as well as the sale
outcome. If, in such a sale, there was a striking increase in prices compared to what
LeBrun had paid, and, more telling, relative to the market as a whole in that period,
we might have reason to think his sharing, promotional technique and careful man-
agement of the order of the sale, had something to do with this. Unfortunately, there
are still too many variables involved – quality and other specificities of the paintings,
who attended and actually bid, and so on – to draw any conclusions. Such a ‘controlled’
test would have to be repeated, over time and across various collections of paintings,
before it told us much of anything. And we do not yet have a sales index for the Paris
market as a whole at the time. That said, it is nonetheless of some interest to look at
an instance that comes close to our conditions.
The Vaudreuil collection, sold in 1784, is one that LeBrun had helped put
together.39 The sale was voluntary, unlike those held after a death. Moreover, since
Vaudreuil was in dire straits, having lost his plantations in Saint Domingue, it is likely
that LeBrun composed and sequenced it to yield maximum profits for his client (and
himself). The sale appears to have been set up to be in line with prevailing buyer pref-
erences, which LeBrun would have known. Once again, Netherlandish paintings domi-
nated, generating 76 percent of the sales revenue.
LeBrun also knew that at this sale his rival Paillet would bid on behalf of
d’Angivillers (thus for the crown); and Paillet was in fact the highest bidder on many of
the paintings at the sale.40 Knowing one’s bidders’ intentions and financial backers
helps an auctioneer create positive momentum and good prices. And publishing both
provenances and sales histories contributes useful material for the patter. In this sale,
there were 31 paintings whose catalogue entries recorded information of both sorts,
and where positive gains had been registered at their last appearance at auction. The
three collections and sales results most mentioned in the pedigrees were those of Ran-
don de Boisset (Rémy, 1777), Blondel de Gagny (Rémy, 1776) and Louis-Francois de
Bourbon, Prince de Conti (Rémy, 1777), at whose sale no less than 760 paintings were
offered.41
Tables 3 and 4 show that 21 of these 31 paintings increased in price immediately
after the sales (on average 1,494 livres). The other 10 registered losses (on average
1,063 livres). That the number of paintings registering gains exceeded the number reg-
istering losses by two to one would seem to confirm that LeBrun’s overall knowledge
and strategizing worked exactly as we would expect. However, the case is not so clear.
Some prior sales might have been to an intermediary, possibly even LeBrun himself.
It was not at all uncommon for dealers to outnumber collectors at a sale, though the
exact mix is impossible to determine since it is never clear whether a dealer was buy-
ing for himself or acting as an agent. Since we also do not know LeBrun’s or any other
dealer’s transactions costs , all we can say concerning such instances is that the auc-
tion price difference does not necessarily represent net gain. Moreover, it is a problem
that we do not possess a Mei and Moses-type all-Paris auction price index for the peri-
od, or indexes for sub-markets (Netherlandish paintings, French, etc.).42 All we can say,
therefore, is that LeBrun remained in business for 40 years, so there is a presumption
that he made profits; that, and the likelihood that, whatever his gain, it probably would
have been less had he been less astute.
Exposing new artists
Gersaint mostly bought and resold seventeenth-century Netherlandish paintings.

LeBrun, on the other hand, saw in the exposure of new artists a way to accustom buy-
ers to emerging currents, a sort of investment to position himself well for the future.
He did this in spectacular fashion during the Revolution, when, in effect, he took over
the Exposition de la jeunesse, previously an outdoor exhibition, offering his own gallery
space as an indoor alternative.43 By 1791, no less than 80 young artists were showing
their paintings there.44 These exhibitions also served as one forum, among others, to
promote the ‘Dutch revival’ or the ‘Neo-Dutch’ movement in French painting.45
Here we see LeBrun engaged in demand-eliciting practices as a player in the pri-
mary market, adding this market to his more established activities as dealer and auc-
tioneer in the secondary or resale market. There is a parallel to this, as noted, in that
auction houses have recently taken to including first-sale paintings in their auctions in
certain segments of the contemporary market, blurring the distinction between the
primary and secondary markets. One can think of this move on LeBrun’s part as one of
several in which he sought to proliferate services and products so as to be able to claim
a larger share of the market. Gersaint did much the same. This is a pre-emptive strat-
egy, akin to that undertaken by the modern major producers of breakfast cereals. They
proliferate new variants, making it more costly for a new entrant, who cannot expect to
enjoy the large-scale advantage in the form of reduced fixed costs per unit sold.
The breakfast cereals analogy in the case of the eighteenth-century Paris paintings
market is imperfect. LeBrun did not so much add variant brands of paintings as novel
selling techniques for the available brands; though both he and Gersaint literally did
introduce a variant brand when they brought to the Paris market and promoted
unknown Netherlandish (and in LeBrun’s case, Spanish) artists. Thus, if the paintings
market is imagined to be represented by a Pie diagram, additional segments of which
can be claimed by one operator in the form of novel selling techniques which make it
more costly for others to compete, in LeBrun’s case we would have to list (1) efficiency
through transparency; (2) the paintings-as-asset argument to appeal to investors; (3)
support for new artists; and, as we will now see, (4) internationalizing both the sources
of paintings and the distribution of sales catalogues; and (5) securing agents to act on
his behalf at foreign sales. Paillet matched him in getting involved with young artists,46
but together, they were probably influential enough that we may consider this a partic-
ular joint pre-emptive move.
Internationalizing the auction market
Gersaint’s tactic of visiting and buying at sales in Flanders, Brabant and the Dutch
Republic for resale in Paris was bold for its time; LeBrun, however, travelled much fur-
ther afield, acquiring paintings for resale in Spain, Switzerland, and Italy as well as the
Low Countries. He also secured agents to act on his behalf in selected locations.
As to the number of his buying trips, in 1802 LeBrun, in a letter to Napoleon,
claimed that he had made at least 43 trips abroad to buy paintings.47 In 1807 and 1808,
he traveled to Spain to buy Spanish paintings and introduce them onto the Parisian
market, well before the Napoleonic confiscation of art in Granada and Seville had tak-
en place.48 This was travel and arbitrage on a much grander scale than attempted by
Gersaint.49 Moreover, Lebrun not only bought, but also sold in foreign markets. For
example, having successfully bid for Hans Holbein’s Ambassadors at a Rémy auction
in 1787, he exported the painting to England.50
LeBrun also at least matched Gersaint in successfully introducing lesser-known or
forgotten Netherlandish artists to Paris. Gersaint’s triumph was Berchem, while
LeBrun is credited with having re-discovered Vermeer.51
Paris, towards the end of the eighteenth century, had become the center of the
international art trade. In addition to exporting paintings, however, dealers also
exported their catalogues. LeBrun’s were distributed in Paris, Brussels, Amsterdam
and London, as were those of some of his rivals, challenging auctioneers in those
cities to respond in kind or become backwaters. His (and some of his rivals’) cata-
logues set a new standard for informativeness that similarly challenged foreign norms.
Conclusion
What does our exploration of innovative dealing in Paris contribute towards a better
general understanding of how dealers and connoisseurs interacted in the eighteenth-
century?An important distinction has emerged that affects the way we may want to
think about connoisseurs. Whereas Koenraad Jonckheere identifies a culture of shar-
ing among connoisseurs in discussions of quality and information relating to prove-
nance and attribution, our own focus on the auction has led us to emphasise instead
that connoisseurs, setting aside rings, are necessarily competitors when they act as
bidders. Both statements may be true as a matter of behavior, with the context decid-
ing which applies. This may be just another way of noticing that participants in an art
market may be driven by several motives, of which pleasure in knowing and convers-
ing with equally knowledgeable people about beautiful objects is one, concern with
asset value (and, as part of this, purchase price) another. Absolutists may insist that
these two are incompatible; but it seems likely that Amsterdam’s and London’s
merchants and Paris’s financiers reflected on the possibility of reconciling them in
some way. Using pleasure as a common denominator was tried by Gersaint and with
more self-awareness by LeBrun. It might prove fruitful to see if there were written
reflections on the problem by some collectors who were both lovers of paintings and
practitioners in the pursuit of secure investments and returns on them.
An implication of regarding connoisseurs as competitors in the bidding is that it is
not necessarily in their interest to wish for or encourage total transparency on the part
of a dealer-auctioneer. Indeed, we have argued that an auctioneer stands to gain at the
expense of individual connoisseur-bidders by being more transparent. This is an alto-
gether different locus of tension between dealers and connoisseurs than the ones usu-
ally mentioned. Interestingly, it is a clash that the auctioneer is bound to win, precisely
because he and other bidders are collectively pitted against a single connoisseur (or
any other bidder) who seeks personal gain at a cost to all other participants. The recur-
rence of pools (US) or bidding rings (UK) in auctions suggests that dealers and other
regular bidders must believe that they can gain at the expense of an auctioneer and
vendors, provided they are willing to organize. At the same time, in principle, the effi-
ciency gains from transparency can benefit the many at the expense of individual self-
seeking bidders; it is just a question of isolating those individuals.
At the very least, our argument supplies an historical hypothesis. If it holds, our
argument would suggest that we should have observed the history of the art auction
from LeBrun’s time onwards to have been one of steadily increasing transparency. Has
this occurred, in Paris and elsewhere? Sotheby’s and Christie’s enjoin their own auc-
tioneers from placing further bids once the bid has reached the (nonetheless undis-
closed) reserve. It is now understood that normally the reserve, though undisclosed,
will not exceed the low pre-sale estimate. The auction houses guarantee the authentic-
ity of the goods they offer, and indicate whether, according to the best of their knowl-
edge, a painting is an original, a workshop effort, a copy or a painting done by the
circle or following of the master. Where possible they provide a paper trail for claimed
provenance, though full histories of prior ownership and earlier sale prices are not
normally published. Serious and regular buyers can even request that a painting be
removed to a special room for technical scrutiny. Broadly speaking, this is a history of
increasing openness, though the trend does not preclude episodes and instances of
deliberate deception and improper practice.
May we also infer, then, that, Paris having led the way in transparency, its own art
markets should have expanded more rapidly than others in Western Europe? Unfortu-
nately, getting in the way of a clear answer to this question is the history in France of
centralized control over auctions, much of it predating LeBrun and his imitators. The
controls in question include the exclusive right, held by state-appointed officials, to
make required pre-sale valuations. For a long time, these were influenced by perverse
incentives to under-value.52 Controls also extended to restrictions on who may conduct
public auctions. And, most significantly, though this occurs at a later date, they involve
the right of the state to pre-empt potentially higher bids on paintings deemed part of
the national heritage. Until very recently French auctioneers were also protected
against foreign competition. This complex of regulations interferes with any simple
test of the role that transparency might have played in the relative growth of the
French market.
Three more promising fields for further historical inquiry are the following. First,
closer study of the buyers at sales by dealer-auctioneers such as LeBrun, to sort out
who among the dealers were buying on own behalf and who for others, and in the
latter case, for whom. Second, a study of the buyers at Paris auctions who might be
deemed connoisseurs, to record what they bought and paid, relative to lots purchased
by bidders of known financial background, to see whether traditional and new buyers
really did comprise distinct groups. Third, an examination of eighteenth-century
auctions in an international context – Paris, London, Amsterdam, Brussels – to see
how integrated the international paintings trade was and which mechanisms enabled
it to function.
APPENDIX 1
Paris, 15 March 1780.—Transcription of the ‘feuille de vacation’ in the back of Cata-

logue Raissoné des Tableaux, Dessins, estampes, Figures de Bronze & de marbre, &
morceaux d’Histoire naturelle, qui composoient le Cabinet de feu M. Poullain,
Receveur Général des Domaines du Roi; Suivi d’un Abrégé historique de la Vie des
Peintres don’t les Ouvrages formoient cette Collection par J.B.P.Le Brun. Le Catalogue
des Vases, porcelains, Meubles de Boule, & autres effets précieux, est de Ph.F. Julliot
fils (Paris, 1780). Paris, Bibliothèque Doucet, V.P.4b.
Feuille de distribution de la vente de M. Poullain (inserted after p. 162), as follows:
p. [1] Première vacation [DAY 1]. Mercredi 15 Mars 1780

Ecole d’Italie
(1) Perugin; (3) Schidon; (15) F.Solineme
Ecole des Pays Bas

(28) Poelemburg; (38) Rembrandt; (50) Jan Asselijn; (57) Ph. Wouwerman; (58)
H. Swanevelt; (61) Pynacker; (64) Berchem; (66) P. Potter (printed ‘de Boisset 2420’);
(72) F. Moucheron; (79) J. Van der Heyden (printed ‘de Gagny 3400’); (83) Karel
Dujardin; 85 G Schalcken
p. [2] suite de la première vacation du Mercredi 15 Mars

(92) C. Dusart; (94) Ad. Vander Burg; (96) J. Le Duc; 97 E.Dietricy
Ecole françoise
(109) S. Bourdon; (113) A. Watteau; (120) 2.Lantara; (123) 2.Mayer; (124) Favanne
Dessins sous verre

(129) Boete Lavreince; (130) Norblin
Estampes
(42) Le Bas; (143) Idem
p. [3]
(154) Deux vases d’albâtre; (157) deux vases de marbre blanc; (166) Deux Vases
Céladon; (174) Deux pots à l’oeil; (181) Quatre plateaux de saxe; (183) Un pot à lait de
Chine; (184) Un gobelet de la Chine; (185) Un grand et un moyen Plat bleu et blan;
(191) Un bureau satiné; (196) Une table de Poirier noire; (199) Un serre-papier; (205)
Deux chandeliers à fut de colonne; (208) Quatre pierres à papier; (217) Deux plinths de
granit; (222) Trois plinthes; (224) Trois plinths; (225) Deux plinths; (227) Deux plinths;
(246) Sept loupes et lunettes; (248) Quatre rafoirs; (249-250) Quatre pistolets; (250-254)
Plusieurs articles qui seront diverses.
p. [4] Deuxième vacation [DAY 2]. Jeudi 16 Mars

Ecole d’Italie
(6) C. Benedette; (7) Louis Carrache; (12) Maria Crespi; (14) F. Solimene
Ecole des Pays Bas

(20) J. Rottenhammer; (27) C. Poelemburg; (30) J. Breughel; (37) Rembrandt; (48)
Adriaen Ostade; (52) G Metsu; (54) B. Breenberg; (55) Ph. Wouwerman (printed ‘de
Barry 4000’); (62) J.B.Weenix (printed ‘de Boisset 6001’); (65) N. Berchem; (73) F.V.
Meulen; (80) J. Vander Heiden; (84) K. Dujardin; (87) G. Berkeyden; (99) Dis de
Rembrandt; (101) Tableaux de genre
p. [5]
Ecole françoise
(108) S. Bourdon (printed ‘P.de Conti 584’); (112) J. Raoux; (116) J.B.Oudry; (121)
Lantara; (125) Baptiste
Dessins sous verre

(135) d’après Mayer; (136) Inconnu; (137) 15 de Moitte
Estampes
(141) Moreau; (146) Bolswert
p. [6] suite de la deuxième vacation du Jeudi 16 Mars

(151) Deux coupes de serpentin; (153) Un vase de vert d’Egypte; (165) Deux petits
pots d’ancienne; (172) Deux jattes violettes; (178) Deux petits comets blue turc; (182)
Une cafetiere de la Chine; (190) Une armoire à glace; (195) Une table de Poirier; (197)
Une table à quatre gaînes; (204) Deux petits chandeliers; (207) Deux paires de bras de
couleur; (216) Deux plinths; (218) Deux autres plinths; (219) Deux plinths; (229) Deux
plinths; (240) Une boite de carton; (242) Un couteau; (245) Une paire de boutons d’or;
(247) un Nécessaire; (253) Six ecrans; (254) Plusieurs articles qui seront divisés
p. [7] Troisième vacation [DAY 3]. Vendredi 17 Mars

Ecole d’Italie
(4) Paul Veronese (printed ‘P. de Conti 3000’); (8) Guido; (11) Le Pézarese; (16) Paul
Matteis (printed ‘P. de Conti 701’)
Ecoles des Pays-Bas

(24) Peeter Neefs; (26) 2 C. Poelenburg; (32) J. Jordaens (printed ‘de Boisset 2050’); (36)
Jean Winants; (39) Albert Cuyp; (41) G. Terburg; (42) Both & Poelenburg; (45) D.Teniers;
(47) Ad. Ostade; (49) Is. Ostade; (53) Barth Breenberg; (56) Ph.Wouwerman (printed ‘de
Boisset 10660’); (74) F.Van Mieris; (75) Gasper Netscher (printed ‘de Boisset 1598’); (77)
J.Steen (printed ‘de Boisset 1600’)
p. [8] suite de la troisième vacation du Vendredi 17 Mars

(82) G. de Layresse; (91) P. Van der Werf (printed ‘de Brunoy 2. 6001’); (98) D Rickaert
Ecole Françoise
(103) Le Nain; (107) S.Bourdon; (122) Lantara
Dessins sous verre

(131) Ph.Caresme; (133) Moreth; (138) 18 Moitte
Estampes
(144) Balechou; (145) Daullé
p. [9] Suite de la troisième vacation du Vendredi 17 Mars

(152) Deux vases de granit rose; (156) Deux vases de prime verte; (161) Un enfant
d’yvoire; (171) Deux coupes violettes; (173) Deux coqs d’ancien blanc; (176) Deux vases
de chine; (177) Trois urnes blue Turc; (186) Une casolette de laque; (189) un piedestal
de marquetterie; (194) Un Chiffonier; (198) Un Bureau de Poirier noirci; (203) Deux
Girandoles; (206) Deux pieds de bronze doré; (211) un table de marbre blance; (223)
Deux plinths; (226) Deux autres plinths; (230) Deux Socles; (235) Une bague; (237) Une
autre bague; (239) Une Tabatière d’écaille; (254) Plusieurs Articles, qui seront divisé.
p. [10] Quatrième vacation [DAY 4]. Samedi 18 Mars

Ecole Italienne
(5) Alex Veronese (printed ‘P. de Conti 3470’); (10) F Albani (printed ‘de Boisset 1500’);
(13) F. Solimene (printed ‘de Boisset 1400’)
Ecole des Pays-Bas

(17) Albert Durer; (19) J. Rottenhammer; (23) P.P. Rubens; (25) 2.C. Poelemburg; (29)
J. Breugel; (31) H. Stenwich; (31bis) Idem; (40) 2. G. Terburg (printed ‘de Gagny 3902’);
(44) D. Teniers; (46) Ad. Ostade (printed ‘P. de Conti 7000’); (52) G. Dow (printed ‘de
Boisset 8999’); (59) C. Bega; (60) G. Van Eeckout; (63) N. Berchem; (68) L. Backuisen;
(71) Fréd. Moucheron
p. [11] suite de la quatrième vacation du Samedi 18 Mars

(78) J.Steen; (86) G. Schalcken (printed on the leaflet ‘P. de Conti 2. 2302’); (90)
Ad. Vander Werf (printed ‘de Brunoy 2.6001’)
Ecole françoise
(104) 2.C. Lorrain (printed ‘de Gagny 11904’); (105) Blachard; (111) J.B.Santerre; (117)
F.Casanova; (119) Casanova frère
Dessins sous verre

(126) J. Breughel; (128) Weirotter; (132) Moreau
Estampes
(139) Porporati; (140) Ryland
p. [12] suite de la quatrième vacation du Samedi 18 Mars

(147) Deux vases de porphire; (149) Deux futs de porphire; (155) Deux vases de prime
verte; (160) Une figure de bronze; (162) Deux bouteilles d’ancienne; (164) Deux
drageoirs; (170) Deux bouteilles bues; (175) Un vase fond rouge; (187) Un bureau de
marquetterie; (193) Une Encoignure; (200) Un luster de Bohème; (202) Une paire de
bras; (210) Une table de granit rose; (213) Une plinthe de porphire; (215) Trois
Plinthes; (220) Trois autres plinthes; (221) Deux plinthes; (234) Une bague de rubis;
(236) Une autre bague; (241) Une canne de jet; (244) Un crayon d’or; (254) Plusieurs
articles, qui seront divisés
p. [13] Cinquième vacation [DAY 5]. Lundi 20 Mars

Ecole Italienne
(2) Carlo Maratti; (9) F. Albane (printed ‘P. de Conti 3710’); (18) P.Brill
Ecole des Pays-Bas

(21) Ad. Elsheymer; (22) P.P.Rubens; (33) L.C.Van Uden; (34) Ant Van Dyck(printed
‘de Brunoy 6000’); (35) Jan Miel; (43) D. Teniers (printed ‘de Gagny 11000’); (51) G. Dow;
(67) W. Kalf; (69) G. Vanden Velde (printed ‘P. de Conti 3151’); (70) Kapel; (76)
G. Netscher; (81) Ad. Vanden Velde; (88) C. de Moor; (89) G. Mieris (printed ‘de Boisset
6000’); (93) J. Van Huysum (printed ‘de Gagny 8000’); (100) Manière de Brauwer
p. [14] suite de la cinquième vacation du Lundi 20 Mars

(102) J. Callot; 106 P. Patel; (110) J.B. Santerre (printed ‘de Gagny 3215’); (114)
F. Le Moyne (printed ‘P. de Conti 6999’); (115) J.B. Pater
Dessins sous verre

(127) P.P. Rubens (printed ‘P. de Conti 152’); (134) Six dessins
p. [15] Suite de la cinquième vacation du lundi 20 Mars

(148) Deux futs de porphire; (150) deux vases vert antique; (158) Une coupe de jaspe;
(159) Deux figures de bronze; (163) Deux jattes a huit pans; (168) Deux urnes couleur
lapis; (169) Deux panniers bleus; (179) Deux bouteilles de Saxe; (188) Deux armoired
ed marquetterie; (192) Une table d’acajou; (201) Un luster de bronze doré; (209) Une
table de porphire; (212) Une plinthe de porphire; (214) Deux plinths; (231) Deux
plinths; (232) Deux socles; (233) Une montre; (238) Une Boetye d’or ronde satinée;
(243) Une piognée d’Epée; (251) Un Clavecin de Ruker; (252) Trois violins & un
violoncell; (254) Plusieurs articles qui seront divisés
p. [16] Sixième vacation [DAY 6]. Mardi 21 Mars

L’Histoire Naturelle [nothing specified]
fin
*The authors wish to thank Anna Tummers for her Daroussat, Pierre Remy, DEA Université Paris
editorial suggestions, and Isabelle Decobecq for IV-Sorbonne 2000; and François Marandet ‘Pierre
sharing her knowledge of Parisian collections, Remy: the Parisian Art Market in the Mid-
checking our calculations for some sales other than eighteenth Century’, Apollo 152 (2003), pp. 32-42.
those reported here, and helping to identify Basan has been treated by Pierre Caselle, ‘Pierre
amateurs, dealers and buyers with financial François Basan’, Paris et Ile de France: Mémoires 23
backgrounds among the buyers at Lebrun’s sales. (1982), pp. 99-185. And on Lebrun, there exists a
1 This historical relationship is reflected in such recent study by Fabienne Camus, Jean-Baptiste-
classic studies as Francis Haskell, Patrons and Pierre Le Brun. Peintre et marchand de tableaux,
Painters: A Study in the Relations Between Italian Ph.D. Dissertation Université Paris IV-Sorbonne
Art and Society in the Age of the Baroque, Oxford 2000. Unfortunately this dissertation is currently
1963. Haskell treated dealers as strictly secondary, classified as restricted access.
judging them worthy of notice only to the extent 4 On all this, see Neil De Marchi and Hans Van
that the artists they were involved with became Miegroet, ‘Transforming the Paris Art Market, 1718-
significant (read: were noticed by connoisseur- 1750’, in: Neil De Marchi and Hans Van Miegroet
collectors). (eds.), Mapping Markets for Paintings in Europe,
2 Krysztof Pomian, Collectors and Curiosities: 1450-1750, Turnhout 2006, pp. 383-402. More
Paris and Venice, 1500-1800, Cambridge 1990, specific references to sources for our reconstruction
pp.159-160. of Gersaint’s advice to collectors-in-training are
3 For Paillet, see J. Edwards, Alexandre-Joseph contained in note 18 below.
Paillet, expert et marchand de tableaux à la fin du 5 We have discussed the cluster of Italianate
XVIIIème siècle, Paris 1996. On Rémy, see Patrick landscape producers in Marchi and Van Miegroet,
Michel, ‘Pierre Rémy: Peintre et négociant en Transforming the Paris Art Market (note 4). The
tableaux, et autres curiosités. Bon connoisseur’, in: peasant festivities cluster is discussed in detail in
A. Cavina et al. (eds.), Mélanges en homage à our Brueghel in Paris, available in manuscript.
Pierre Rosenberg, Paris 2001, pp. 328-337; Sévérine 6 Auction prices for Italian and French versus
Netherlandish paintings are analysed in Hans Van Growth of Interest in the Arts and England, 1680-
Miegroet, ‘Recycling Netherlandish Paintings on 1768, New Haven and London 1988, esp. chapter 3.
the Paris Market in the Early Eighteenth Century’, 10 The point is nicely made by Koenraad
in: Sophie Raux (ed.), Collectionner dans les Jonckheere in his essay (pp. 69-95) in this volume.
Flandres et la France du Nord au XVIIIe siècle, Lille 11 Unless, of course, they form a ring or pool.
2005, pp. 251-288. It seems that, not only were 12 Gersaint has been treated in an excellent
individual Netherlandish paintings often among article by Andrew McClellan, ‘Watteau’s dealer:
those highest-valued, but collectively they tended Gersaint and the Marketing of Art in Eighteenth-
to contribute a larger share to sales revenue than Century Paris’, Art Bulletin 78 (1996), pp. 439-453.
their numerical share in an auction. One We have offered a complementary interpretation,
rationalization of such resuts that retains the drawing heavily on newly uncovered archival
primacy of connoisseurial values is to say that the information in Guillaume Glorieux, À l’Enseigne de
paintings concerned were typified by those Gersaint. Edmé-François Gersaint. Marchand d’art
acquired by the French bourgoisie in the late sur le pont Notre-Dame (1694-1750), Seyssel 2002.
sixteenth and early seventeenth century, when there See De Marchi and Van Miegroet, Transforming the
were readily available in Paris ‘commercial paintings, Paris Art Market (note 4).
of modest quality, produced in large quantity’, 13 See McClellan, Inventing the Louvre (note 7)
many of Flemish origin or derivation. We adopt and Colin Bailey, ‘The Comte de Vaudreuil:
Alain Mérot’s convenient statement of this position, Aristocratic Collecting on the even of the
which is not, however, to be read as one he holds. Revolution’, Apollo 130 (1989), pp. 19-26, and Colin
See Alain Mérot, French Painting in the Bailey, Patriotic Taste: Collecting Modern Art in
Seventeenth Century, New Haven and London 1995, Pre-Revolutionary Paris, New Haven and London
p. 159. Extending this rationalization to cover such 2002.
Netherlandish paintings as entered known 14 We have examined the following catalogues of
collections much later in the seventeenth century sales, all held in Paris: 21 March 1763 (name not
would seem to require that that they occupied specified); 15 March 1764 (Madame Galloys, widow
inferior spaces, perhaps in terms of their actual size of the Receveur Général des Finances de
but certainly in terms of their display relative the Champagne); 2 December 1668 (Chez Hallée); 16
core pieces in a collection. Studies of inventories November 1771 (paintings of the stock of LeBrun’s
and valuations, however, as well as the places such deceased father, Pierre); 10 January 1772 (not
paintings were hung, contradict this. The Comtesse specified); 22 September 1774 (not specified); 21
de Verrue (1670-1736), for example, not only owned November 1774 (Comte du Barry); 12 February 1775
peasant festivities by Teniers but treasured them so (not specified); 17 June 1776 (Duc de Saint Aignan);
much that they were hung in her private chambers. 10 January 1778 (not specified); 14 April 1778 (M.
See also the revealing comment of Antoine Gros); 10 August 1778 (M. Le Moyne); 11 November
Schnapper: ‘S’il fallut attendre le milieu du XVIIIe 1778 (Madame de Jullienne); 10 December 1778
siècle pour que la peinture flamande et hollandaise (not specified); 12 January 1780 (Tronchin); 15
s’impose dans les cabinets des plus grands March 1780 (M. Poullain, Receveur Général des
amateurs français, elle avait toujours eu sur le Domaines du Roi); 2 June 1780 (Nogaret); 20
marché parisien une place énorme mais discrète, November 1780 (Soufflot, Architecte ordinaire du
trop méconnue jusqu’a présent. Pour schématiser, Roi,); 27 November 1780 (Prault, Imprimeur du Roi);
on peut dire qu’il y avait chez nous marchés 11 December 1780 (Véron, Receveur des Finances,
apparement bien distinct mais qu’alimentaient les with feuille de vacation); 14 February 1781 (Abbé le
mêmes hommes, comme le confirme l’étude des Blanc, Historiographe des Bâtiments du Roi); 24
principaux marchands français ....’ Antoine November 1784 (Comte de Vaudreuil).
Schnapper, Curieux du Grand Siècle. Collections et 15 Lebrun, quoted by Bette W. Oliver, Elisabeth
collectioneurs dans la France du XVIIe siècle, Paris Vigée-LeBrun, Jean-Baptiste Pierre LeBrun, and
1994, p. 91. Marguerite Gérard and their Roles in the French
7 On this, see Andrew McClellan, Inventing the Artistic Legacy, 1775-1825, Ph.D. Dissertation
Louvre: Art, Politics, and the Origins of the Modern University of Texas 1997, p. 25.
Museum in Eighteenth-Century Paris, Cambridge 16 ‘My stepfather having retired from business,
1994. De Piles and Jonathan Richardson may be we took up residence at the Lubert mansion, in the
thought of as popularizers of the juxtapose-and- Rue de Cléry. M. Lebrun had just bought the house
analyse-properties approach. and lived there himself, and as soon as we were
8 See Neil De Marchi, ‘Auctioning Paintings in settled in it and I began to examine the splendid
Late Seventeenth Century London: Rules, masterpieces of all schools with which his lodgings
Segmentation and Prices in an Emergent Market’, were filled. I was enchanted at an opportunity of
in V.A. Ginsburgh (ed.), Economics of Art and first-hand acquaintance with these works by great
Culture, Amsterdam 2004, pp. 97-128. masters. M. Lebrun was so obliging as to lend me,
9 Iain Pears, The Discovery of Painting: The for purposes of copying, some of his handsomest
and most valuable paintings. Thus I owed him the Voytov for drawing our attention to these papers.
best lessons I could conceivably have obtained, The argument given applies to ‘dependent value’
when, after a lapse of six months, he asked my auctions, where bidders are assumed to form
hand in marriage …’ Louise-Elisabeth Vigée-Lebrun, perceptions of value partly based on what others
Memoirs of Madame Vigée-Lebrun, translated by bid. This seems broadly applicable to art auctions.
Lionel Strachey and with an introduction by John 21 See Orley Ashenfelter and Kathryn Graddy,
Russel, New York 1989 [1903], p. 20. ‘Art Auctions’, in: Victor A. Ginsburgh and David
17 ‘My marriage was kept secret for some time. Throsby (eds.), Handbook of the Economics of Art
M. Lebrun, who was supposed to marry the and Culture, Amsterdam 2006, pp. 909-945, esp.
daughter of a Dutchman with whom he did great p. 937.
business in pictures, asked me not to make an 22 E.F. Gersaint, Catalogue d’une grande
announcement until he had wound up his affairs …’ collection de tableaux des meilleurs maistres
Vigée-Lebrun, Memoirs of Madame Vigée-Lebrun d’Italie, de Flandre & de France, Paris 26 March
(note 16), p. 21. 1749.
18 This is not described in so many words, or as a 23 J.B.P. Lebrun, Catalogue Raissoné d’une Très-
series of steps in Gersaint’s catalogues. Rather, we belle collection de tableaux des Ecoles d’Italie, de
infer groupings of artists by characteristics from the Flandre et de Hollande qui composoient le Cabinet
way he lists artists in his first sale catalogue, of 1733, de M. le Comte de Vaudreuil, Grand-Fauconnier de
and from his comparative remarks here and there – France, Paris 24 November 1784, p. 44.
especially in his Table Alphabétique, in Catalogue 24 Catalogue des tableaux & dessins précieux
Lorangère (1744) – on selected artists; these, des maitres célebres des trois Ecoles, Figures de
combined, suggest family clusters of characteristics. marbres, de bronze & de terre cuite, Estampes en
This element is developed in De Marchi and Van feuilles & autres objects du Cabinet de feu M.
Miegroet, Transforming the Paris Art Market (note Randon de Boisset, Receveur Géneral des finances
4), esp. pp. 395-399. The set of steps an aspiring par Pierre Remy, 27 February 1777, pp. 31-32, no. 59.
‘amateur’ should follow is an analytical construct 25 See Robert Broomfield and Maureen O’Hara,
inferred from various remarks Gersaint makes on ‘Market Transparency: Who Wins and Who Loses?’,
the importance of pleasurable visual and Review of Financial Studies 12 (1999), pp. 5-35. This
imaginative stimulation in choosing a painting; experimental study confirms theoretical
discussions of the properties that generate these expectations about more rapid convergence on
qualities, especially in ‘Flemish’ paintings; the true values with disclosure of past prices and
availability of desirable paintings at various prices, volumes (in our case just a single painting for each
and his de facto promotion of substitute paintings trade). We have drawn on their suggestions
at various prices; and the ultimate independence of concerning who gains and who loses from
visual pleasure from attribution. Relevant remarks transparency and as to the possibility that
are to be found among his Observations sur les disclosure might be used as a form of non-price
Coquillages in his 1736 Catalogue Raisonné de competition.
Coquilles; his Catalogue Lorangère (1744), 26 D’Angivillers, Directeur-Général des Batiments
introduction dealing with paintings (pp. 1-11) plus du Roi, for one, seems to have preferred Paillet to
the appended Table Alphabétique; and the Lebrun, probably on cost grounds, though this is
discussion of attribution on pp. 25-29 of the conjecture on our part.
Catalogue de la Roque (1745). Our test in 27 Oliver, Elisabeth Vigée-LeBrun (note 15), p. 304,
advancing this analytical construct is not the usual quoting G. Emile-Mâle, ‘Jean-Baptiste Pierre Le
one of whether a direct reference can be found to Brun 1748-1813 – Son rôle dans l’histoire de la
support each component of it, but whether it makes restauration des tableaux du Louvre’, Mémoire de
the most sense, among alternatives, of Gersaint’s la Société de Paris et de l’Ile de France, 9 (1956),
scattered commentary on paintings, painters and p. 377.
collecting. 28 Paris, Bibliothèque Doucet, 1293 (U11 422),
19 We do not know whether the ascending bid J.-B.P. LeBrun, Receuil des gravures au trait, à l’eau-
mode of selling was common in Paris prior to forte et ombrées, d’après une choix de tableaux de
Gersaint, and mention it here simply to emphasize toutes les écoles receuillis dans une voyage fait en
the informational advantage of the technique. Espagne, au midi de la France et en Italie dans les
20 Paul R. Milgrom and Robert J. Weber, ‘A Années 1807 and 1808 … par M. LeBrun, 2 vols.,
Theory of Auctions and Competitive Bidding. II’, in: Paris 1809. Gersaint probably did – anyway,
P. Klemperer (ed.), The Economic Theory of intended to – produce one illustrated guide that we
Auctions, Aldershot 2000, pp. 179-194; Robert J. know of, to shells, for the connoisseur, though it
Weber, ‘Multiple-Object Auctions’, in: P. Klemperer was not for distribution. See Émile Dacier and
(ed.), The Economic Theory of Auctions, Aldershot Albert Vuaflart, Jean de Jullienne et les Graveurs de
2000, pp. 240-266. Both these papers were written Watteau au XVIIIe siècle, 3 vols., Paris 1929, vol. 1,
in 1980 but remained unpublished. We thank Ilya p. 108 (for sale of 1736).
29 Catalogue Raissoné des Tableaux, Dessins, ancient bottles, musical instruments, items of
Estampes, Figures de Bronze & de marbre, & furniture, lunettes, and so on. See the transcription
morceaux d’Histoire naturelle, qui composoient le (Appendix 1) of the Poullain sale of 1780.
Cabinet de feu M. Poullain, Receveur Général des 39 Bailey, The Comte de Vaudreuil (note 13), pp.
Domaines du Roi; Suivi d’un Abrégé historique de 19-69, and Bailey, Patriotic Taste (note 13), pp.
la Vie des Peintres don’t les Ouvrages formoient 163-205. Asking prominent dealer-auctioneers to
cette Collection par J.B.P.Le Brun. Le Catalogue act in this capacity was not uncommon. Gesaint was
des Vases, porcelains, Meubles de Boule, & autres consulted by Augustin Blondel de Gagny
effets précieux, est de Ph.F. Julliot fils, Paris 1780, (1695-1776), financier and Intendant des Menus-
section entitled Réflexions sur la Peinture et la Plaisirs: Bailey, Conventions (note 37), p. 434.
Sculpure. Boileau realized the collection of the Prince de
30 Translation by Bailey, Patriotic Taste (note 13), Conti, while Rémy shaped that of the wealthy
p. 17. of Lebrun’s remarks on pp. xiv-xv of his banker Nicolas Beaujon in the 1780s: ibid, p. 436.
Réflexions. Rémy also sold this collection in 1787 (25 April-4
31 See his Réflexions in Catalogue Poullain (note May). Holbein’s Ambassadors was lot 15bis at the
29), esp. pp. x-xv. sale, and was bought by LeBrun.
32 The most straightforward visual evidence is 40 On Paillet’s extravagant bidding at the du
that comparing the Mei and Moses Fine Art Index Barry sale on 17 February 1777, which was widely
for repeat sales of paintings with the Standard and reported in the Parisian press, see Bailey, Patriotic
Poor’s 500 Index of stock prices over the last 50 Taste (note 13), p. 115.
years. See Jianping Mei and Michael Moses, ‘Art as 41 Bailey, Patriotic Taste (note 13), p. 27.
an Investment and the Underperformance of 42 Such indexes would greatly assist proper study
Masterpieces’, American Economic Review 92 of the effectiveness of strategies such as those
(2002), pp. 1656-1668. We take stock prices as a employed by Lebrun.
rough proxy for financial wealth. 43 Oliver, Elisabeth Vigée-LeBrun (note 15),
33 The English portraitist and critic Jonathan p. 111.
Richardson may be taken as a representative of this 44 Ibid. (note 15), p. 112.
tradition. See Jonathan Richardson, Two discourses. 45 Carol S. Eliel, 1798: French Art during the
The connoisseur. A discourse on the dignity, Revolution, p. 49; also quoted in Oliver, Elisabeth
certainty, pleasure and advantage, of the science of Vigée-LeBrun (note 15), p. 112.
a connoisseur, London 1719. Insisting rather on 46 Paillet took over the Société des Amis des Arts
viewing pleasure, as Gersaint did, offered a (Oliver, Elisabeth Vigée-LeBrun (note 15), p. 111).
common conceptual metric for bringing the two 47 Francis Haskell, Rediscoveries in Art, London
together; Lebrun elaborated on this, in word and 1976, p. 20, also quoted in Oliver, Elisabeth Vigée-
practice. LeBrun (note 15), p. 302.
34 On the Amsterdam market, see J. Michael 48 Ibid.
Montias, ‘Notes on Economic Development and 49 Lebrun was not the only Parisian dealer to
the Market for Paintings in Amsterdam’, in: S. travel north to buy paintings. Paillet, for instance,
Cavaciocchi (ed.), Economia e Arte. Secc. XIII-XVIII, did much of his buying for d’Angivillers in Flanders.
Atti della Trentatreesima Settimana di Studi, Istituto Paillet went to public sales in Ghent, Brussels and
Internazionale di Storia Economica ‘F. Datini’ Prato, Antwerp, especially before the dissolution of
2001, Florence 2002, pp. 115-130; and, on the religious houses in 1777. Between 1783 and 1788 he
London market, Mireille Galinou (ed.), City went at least four times to Holland, twice to London
Merchants and the Arts, 1670-1720, Wetherby 2004. and once to Flanders (Oliver, Elisabeth Vigée-
35 We are grateful to Isabelle Decobecq for help LeBrun (note 15), p. 194). Even Paillet’s scale of
in identifying the financiers and dealers, most of travel, however, pales alongside that of Lebrun.
whom, nonetheless, have yet to be studied 50 John North, The Ambassadors’ Secret:
seriously. Holbein and the World of the Renaissance, London
36 Koenraad Jonckheere, The Auction of King and New York 2002, p. 5.
William’s Paintings (1713). Elite international Art 51 Haskell, Rediscoveries (note 47), p. 18.
Trade at the End of the Dutch Golden Age, Oculi: 52 See Alden Gordon, ‘The sale of the Marquis
Studies in the Arts of the Low Countries. 11, de Marigny: valuations and prices’, mimeo, Trinity
Amsterdam 2008. College Hartford Connecticut (forthcoming).
37 Colin B. Bailey, ‘Conventions of the
Eighteenth-Century Cabinet de tableaux: Blondel
d’Azincourt’s La première idée de la curiosité’, The
Art Bulletin 69 (1987), p. 434.
38 At the end of each day of these multi-day sales
seems to have been reserved for the presentation
of a variety of lower-end items: vases, ivory carvings,
P HO TO CR EDIT S AR T MA RKET A ND C O NNOISSEUR SH I P 175
Cover and p. 138, 192:

Grafische Sammlung Albertina, Vienna.
p. 35 and colorsection p. 177:

The Royal Collection, © 2008 Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II. London.

Royal Cabinet of Paintings Mauritshuis The Hague.

Koninklijke Verzamelingen, Paleis Huis ten Bosch, Den Haag.
Fotograaf: Margareta Svensson.
p. 35, p. 47, p. 134 and colorsection p. 178, 179, 181 and 191:
© Rijksmuseum Amsterdam.
p. 48, colorsection p. 183:

Ruisdael: Widener Collection, Hobbema: Andrew W. Mellon Collection,
both images courtesy of the Board of Trustees, National Gallery of Art, Washington

© Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza. Madrid.

with permission of The Worshipful Company of Barbers, London.

Photo ©The Walters Art Museum, Baltimore.
p.128: Staatsgalerie Stuttgart.

Plates
177
Rembrandt
The Shipbuilder and his Wife, 1633
The Royal Collection, Her Majesty Queen Elisabeth II, London
178
Rembrandt
The Anatomy Lesson of Doctor
Tulp, 1633
Royal Cabinet of Paintings
The Mauritshuis, The Hague
Rembrandt
Portrait of the Preacher Johannes
Uyttenbogaert, 1633
179
Jan Steen
Merry Family, 1668
180
Gerrit van Honthorst

Allegory on the Marriage of Frederik Hendrik and Amalia van Solms,1651

Wiliam II’s Reception of Mary Stuart upon her Arrival in the Netherlands, 1649

The Constancy of Frederik Hendrik, after 1649
181
Albrecht Dürer
Melancholia, 1514
Lucas van Leyden

The Holy Family, c. 1506-1510
182
Hans Holbein
Henry VIII, c. 1536
Thyssen-Bornemisza Collection, Madrid
183
Jacob van Ruisdael

Forest Scene, c. 1655
Widener Collection,
National Gallery of Art,
Washington, D.C.
Meindert Hobbema
Farm in the Sunlight, c. 1668
Andrew W. Mellon Collection,
National Gallery of Art,
Washington, D.C.
184
Hans Holbein
Henry VIII and the Barber Surgeons, begun 1541-43
Hall of the Barber-Surgeons Guild, London
185
Peter Paul Rubens and Frans Snyders

Prometheus, c. 1611-1612
Philadelphia Museum of Art, Philadelphia
186
Peter Paul Rubens

Christ, John and two angels, c. 1615-1620
Wilton House, Salisbury
187
Adriaen Brouwer
The surgeon, c. 1630
Städel-Museum, Frankfurt
188
Jan Brueghel the Elder and Hieronymus Franken II

The Archduke Albert and the Archduchess Isabella in a Collector’s Cabinet, , c. 1621-1623
Walters Art Gallery, Baltimore
189
Pieter Codde
Art Lovers in a Painter’s Studio, c. 1630
Staatsgalerie, Stuttgart
190
David Vinckboons
Forest Scene with Robbery, c. 1612
Private Collection
Tintoretto
Crucifixion, 1565
Scuola Grande di San Rocco, Venice
191
Hendrick Goltzius (in the style of Albrecht Dürer)

The Circumcision, 1594

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Art Market and Connoisseurship

A Closer Look at Paintings by Rembrandt,

A Closer Look at Paintings by Rembrandt,

Edited by Anna Tummers and Koenraad Jonckheere

Amsterdam University Press

ISBN 97 8908964 0321

© Tummers and Jonckheere / Amsterdam University Press, 2008

127 .... Chapter 4

149 .... Chapter 5

175 .... Photocredits

177 .... Plates

An art historian who assesses the attributions of particular paintings in a scholarly

The ‘craftsmanlike’ way of calculating price, largely determined by labour, in other

By the master’s own hand

The buyer’s opinion

capitalising on customers’ fears relating to the unwitting purchase of copies instead

The second-hand market

30 Boers-Goosens, Prices of Northern Boston (Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum) 2002

Leidse Gracht, vol. Va, Leiden 1990, pp. 3-36. As a

‘By His Hand’: The Paradox

The question of whether seventeenth-century painters and connoisseurs had a different

The debate: Autograph pictures, the holy grail of present-day

1. Rembrandt, see colorplate p. 177 (entire painting)

2. Rembrandt, see colorplate p. 178 (entire painting)

3. Rembrandt, see colorplate p. 178 (entire painting)

seventeenth-century painters and connoisseurs would have thought about issues of

insights as to attributing pictures. Do these texts indicate that seventeenth-century

The master’s name and its implications

Distinctions in seventeenth-century inventories and notarial deeds

Master, pupil or ‘retouched’

By far most attributions in seventeenth-century inventories concern master painters,

Further distinctions: a preference for autograph pictures?

Quality distinctions reflected in the signature

4. Gerrit van Honthorst, see colorplate p. 180

5. Gerrit van Honthorst, see colorplate p. 180

6. Gerrit van Honthorst, see colorplate p. 180

Seventeenth-century insights as to attributing pictures

7. Jan Steen, see colorplate p. 179

8. Albrecht Dürer, see plate p. 181

9. Lucas van Leyden, see plate p. 181

10. Hans Holbein, see colorplate p. 182

11. Jacob van Ruisdael, see colorplate p. 183

12. Meindert Hobbema, see colorplate p. 183

By the mid-seventeenth-century, Van Mander’s observation that a painter’s character-

The paradox of seventeenth-century connoisseurship

Contrary to Junius, however, Samuel van Hoogstraten had, as noted, ﬁrst-hand

Beyond the paradox

Although primary sources on seventeenth-century connoisseurship are relatively

I suspect that an awareness of contemporary studio practices made knowledgeable

Although seventeenth-century connoisseurs were, in various cases, able to distinguish

Hans Holbein, see colorplate p. 184

Peter Paul Rubens and Frans Snyders

Like present-day experts, seventeenth-century painters and connoisseurs were keen

Supply and Demand:

A while ago, a large auction house contacted me about a sixteenth-century painting.

Art dealers and art lovers: A tense relation

Part I. Supply: The Connoisseurship of Auctioneers

Introduction: Old Master names

na Jan Brueghel de Jonge

Brueghel Jan de Jonge