Rotterdam, The Netherlands
Morals and Mortals
Our first stop in Rotterdam — the largest port in Europe (fun trivia!) — was more of a logistical port to pick up additional passengers than an itinerary highlight for most. But, I’ve loved The Netherlands since my first trip to Europe with a friend’s family, so I was eager to explore this real, working city. And it brought back a distinct memory…
I can still hear collective groan from the from the class. Unfortunately, it wasn’t in response to an assignment or pop quiz from our professor. It was emitted after I announced that my project would be on still life paintings. Already feeling self-conscious being the only non-art history major in a senior seminar, apparently I had just chosen the least popular subject imaginable to the group. Super!
The rest of my classmates studied Dutch Golden Age landscapes, portraits, and genre pieces; nevertheless, I persisted (such a feminist) with the still lifes. We traveled to The Netherlands over our winter break, and at the museums, I was alone entranced in front of the laid tables full of convincingly painted fruit, bread rolls, cheese, savory pies, lobsters, butter, oysters, glassware, silver, foul, and flowers…
Other paintings also featured timepieces, recently blown-out candles, broken glasses, and skulls. Most critical readings of any type of still life propose that at the time (c. 1600s Holland), the works were meant to keep people’s religious morals in check — warning against greed, gluttony, and over-consumption, even as the secular culture and economy flourished. A painting of decaying flowers or a skull hanging over the mantle was a not-so-subtle reminder of the homeowners’ mortality. Be good while you’re still here, or you know where you’re headed!
My unimpressed art history class couldn’t snuff my enthusiasm, and I still love a still life from any period in any medium. At the museum, you can find me standing in front Cezanne’s fruits or Thiebaud’s pies. It turned out that the main art museum in Rotterdam is under construction for the next seven years, and currently, all of their glorious Golden Age still lifes are in storage. While a disappointment, it served as a nice reminder that life itself doesn’t sit still. Like my favorite paintings said: your life is temporary; be nice; capture the moment while you can.
[You probably don’t, but if you do want to read my college-aged interpretation of these still lifes, I found my old paper and would be happy to send it your way if technology cooperates, or via carrier pigeon.]
