The house-museums of two Belgian masters of the 19th Century shed light on artistic and social concerns of the era. As case studies they exemplify dominant thematic trends in both halves of that century – Romanticism in the first half and Realism in the second.
Antoine Wiertz (1806-1865) was born to an impoverished family in Dinant, Wallonia (later Belgium). After studying at Antwerp Art Academy, he won the (Belgian) Prix de Rome at a second try, in 1832. His grand manner was Romantic and painterly, derived from Rubens. His subjects anticipate those of the Symbolists. Though Wiertz made his name with historical and religious compositions, the allegories and (often gruesome) scenes of contemporary life are his most distinctive contributions to art.
In 1850, partly in order to establish Belgian art as independent of French influence (led by the School of David; J-L David (1714-1825) spent his last years in Brussels) the newly formed state agreed to build a studio and dwelling for the benefit of Wiertz, the first truly “Belgian” artist. The initial agreement was that the artist would donate works to the state but it seems Wiertz early on had the idea of turning the studio into a permanent museum. The government drew the line at Wiertz’s proposal to fund the construction of a ruined temple in the studio grounds. Upon the artist’s death the combined house and studio became possessions of the state. Both building and grounds have remained unchanged since 1868, now a fragment of a lost age lodged under the glass towers of the European Parliament.
Photographs leave one unprepared for the vast scale of the studio and its contents. The studio is 35m long, 15m wide and 16m high, accommodating gargantuan canvases almost as tall and wide as the walls. Subjects are suitably grand: the fall of the rebel angels, Christ triumphant, Homeric scenes. The paintings offer a serious challenge to conservators. Aside from the technical experimentation discussed later, their size presents difficulties. Expanses of canvas bulge down from tilted frames, unsupported from behind. Extensive restoration of Musée Wiertz (completed in 2009) involved reconstruction of the roof and repair of the walls, which have been returned to their original grey colour.
Wiertz: La Belle Rosine (Two Young Girls)
If you can find anything written about Wiertz, it is almost all negative. Novotny gives Wiertz three sentences in his Painting and Sculpture in Europe 1780-1880, the last being “His wild-eyed hysteria is a mere caricature of real passion.” The disdain and distaste for Wiertz is evident from the start of his career. The first version of Greeks and Trojans Fighting over the Body of Patrocles (first version 1836, Liège, second version 1844, Musée Wiertz) was skied at the Paris Salon of 1839 and mocked by critics. Wiertz became a national cause, though one wonders what misgivings Belgians must have had about their standard bearer. In terms of grandiose aspirations, hyperbolic acclaim and posthumous neglect, the story of Wiertz’s art is comparable to that of GF Watts’s.
The only good word anyone seems to have is for La Belle Rosine (1847), Wiertz’s most famous invention. This painting, influential and much reproduced, is excepted as “a good chord on a bad piano”. It shows a nude woman contemplating a skeleton. The alternative title is Two Young Women. Now very fragile, the painting is unlikely to leave Brussels again. Death and the Maiden is an oft-reprised subject but there can’t have been a more compelling version than this. The woman, garland in her hair, gazes with hypnotic calmness into the vacant eye sockets of the anatomist’s specimen. Below the suspended partial skeleton (missing its leg bones) are fragments of an ancient statue. A label on the skull carries the inscription “La Belle Rosine”. One might interpret this two ways. The painter is using a graphic intervention to insert the title of the picture or – more likely – the label identifies the skeleton as that of Rosine. (The issue of titling is a curious one. Wiertz did give certain pictures exact titles. It seems fixed, artist-given titles only began in earnest with the advent of the Paris salons in the early 18th Century. Before then works were discussed by topic. Vasari refers to “a Madonna by the hand of…”; “a Dead Christ in the lap of Our Lady, surrounded by many figures”; “a panel made for the Duke of Urbino”; and so forth. The idea that paintings should have a definite title is essentially a modern construction, in that it derives from the practice of organised temporary public exhibitions. Some scenes of a narrative or anecdotal character can depend to a degree on a title. Think of When did you last see your Father? by WF Yeames in the Walker Art Gallery.)
Little work is at the level of La Belle Rosine, though there are other paintings worth attention. La Liseuse de Romans (The Novel Reader) (1853) has a recumbent female
reasonable reproaches) is another charge, that of titillation. (A current guidebook mentions “saucy girls in a state of undress”.) This is more debatable. If one looks at
the figures in question, there is less nudity than one finds in Rubens, the female anatomies are not entirely convincing and there is nothing overtly sexual in the poses, even for the period. It comes as no surprise to discover Wiertz was homosexual (or at least bisexual); an idea first publicly aired by the critic Camille Lemonnier, who lived very close to the artist.
Drawings and small painted sketches are strongly reminiscent of Blake’s in their muscular Mannerism, though Wiertz understood anatomy better. The two artists share many characteristics (ambition, stubbornness, independence, keen social conscience and link
The Belgian Blake: Alexander Adams visits two little-known artist-museums in Brussels, the Musées Wiertz and Meunier
Antoine Wiertz (1806-1865) was born to an impoverished family in Dinant, Wallonia (later Belgium). After studying at Antwerp Art Academy, he won the (Belgian) Prix de Rome at a second try, in 1832. His grand manner was Romantic and painterly, derived from Rubens. His subjects anticipate those of the Symbolists. Though Wiertz made his name with historical and religious compositions, the allegories and (often gruesome) scenes of contemporary life are his most distinctive contributions to art.
In 1850, partly in order to establish Belgian art as independent of French influence (led by the School of David; J-L David (1714-1825) spent his last years in Brussels) the newly formed state agreed to build a studio and dwelling for the benefit of Wiertz, the first truly “Belgian” artist. The initial agreement was that the artist would donate works to the state but it seems Wiertz early on had the idea of turning the studio into a permanent museum. The government drew the line at Wiertz’s proposal to fund the construction of a ruined temple in the studio grounds. Upon the artist’s death the combined house and studio became possessions of the state. Both building and grounds have remained unchanged since 1868, now a fragment of a lost age lodged under the glass towers of the European Parliament.
Photographs leave one unprepared for the vast scale of the studio and its contents. The studio is 35m long, 15m wide and 16m high, accommodating gargantuan canvases almost as tall and wide as the walls. Subjects are suitably grand: the fall of the rebel angels, Christ triumphant, Homeric scenes. The paintings offer a serious challenge to conservators. Aside from the technical experimentation discussed later, their size presents difficulties. Expanses of canvas bulge down from tilted frames, unsupported from behind. Extensive restoration of Musée Wiertz (completed in 2009) involved reconstruction of the roof and repair of the walls, which have been returned to their original grey colour.
Wiertz: La Belle Rosine (Two Young Girls)
If you can find anything written about Wiertz, it is almost all negative. Novotny gives Wiertz three sentences in his Painting and Sculpture in Europe 1780-1880, the last being “His wild-eyed hysteria is a mere caricature of real passion.” The disdain and distaste for Wiertz is evident from the start of his career. The first version of Greeks and Trojans Fighting over the Body of Patrocles (first version 1836, Liège, second version 1844, Musée Wiertz) was skied at the Paris Salon of 1839 and mocked by critics. Wiertz became a national cause, though one wonders what misgivings Belgians must have had about their standard bearer. In terms of grandiose aspirations, hyperbolic acclaim and posthumous neglect, the story of Wiertz’s art is comparable to that of GF Watts’s.
The only good word anyone seems to have is for La Belle Rosine (1847), Wiertz’s most famous invention. This painting, influential and much reproduced, is excepted as “a good chord on a bad piano”. It shows a nude woman contemplating a skeleton. The alternative title is Two Young Women. Now very fragile, the painting is unlikely to leave Brussels again. Death and the Maiden is an oft-reprised subject but there can’t have been a more compelling version than this. The woman, garland in her hair, gazes with hypnotic calmness into the vacant eye sockets of the anatomist’s specimen. Below the suspended partial skeleton (missing its leg bones) are fragments of an ancient statue. A label on the skull carries the inscription “La Belle Rosine”. One might interpret this two ways. The painter is using a graphic intervention to insert the title of the picture or – more likely – the label identifies the skeleton as that of Rosine. (The issue of titling is a curious one. Wiertz did give certain pictures exact titles. It seems fixed, artist-given titles only began in earnest with the advent of the Paris salons in the early 18th Century. Before then works were discussed by topic. Vasari refers to “a Madonna by the hand of…”; “a Dead Christ in the lap of Our Lady, surrounded by many figures”; “a panel made for the Duke of Urbino”; and so forth. The idea that paintings should have a definite title is essentially a modern construction, in that it derives from the practice of organised temporary public exhibitions. Some scenes of a narrative or anecdotal character can depend to a degree on a title. Think of When did you last see your Father? by WF Yeames in the Walker Art Gallery.)
Little work is at the level of La Belle Rosine, though there are other paintings worth attention. La Liseuse de Romans (The Novel Reader) (1853) has a recumbent female
reasonable reproaches) is another charge, that of titillation. (A current guidebook mentions “saucy girls in a state of undress”.) This is more debatable. If one looks at the figures in question, there is less nudity than one finds in Rubens, the female anatomies are not entirely convincing and there is nothing overtly sexual in the poses, even for the period. It comes as no surprise to discover Wiertz was homosexual (or at least bisexual); an idea first publicly aired by the critic Camille Lemonnier, who lived very close to the artist.Drawings and small painted sketches are strongly reminiscent of Blake’s in their muscular Mannerism, though Wiertz understood anatomy better. The two artists share many characteristics (ambition, stubbornness, independence, keen social conscience and link