Saenredam and Emanuel de Witte

When the Reformation broke through in our [Dutch] corner of Europe,

our towns boasted a number of large churches built in a simple Gothic

style. Inside, of course, they were adorned with statues and paintings, but

the overall effect was not nearly as opulent and decorated as the French

and German churches. The latter had been built during the same

period, but in a style much more boisterous – the so-called flamboyant

Gothic style. In the Netherlands the only place you can really see an

example of this latter style is in Den Bosch.

With the Reformation these churches fell to Calvinist congregations.

Those congregations were then faced with the problem of how to make

those huge spaces suitable for a Protestant worship service, which places

quite different demands on a church interior. Of course the images and

paintings and altars – anything reminiscent of Catholic liturgy – were

removed. But the problem remained: how do you make such a building

suitable for a preaching service? So they built huge pulpits in the naves

of the churches, and gathered the pews around them in a large square,

with the pews set on a gradual incline so that all could see the preacher.

In many places (Leiden’s Pieterskerk; Amsterdam’s Oude Kerk; in

Gouda, Alkmaar, etc.) these old pews can still be found.

The result was a high, spacious and fairly simple building, a space

without any striking adornments. The churches were all whitewashed,

although there is some debate as to whether that practice began during

that time, or whether it had been done before as well. It is surprising that

the buildings did not become stark and bare but took on a character of

their own, with a unique beauty to be found in that multi-coloured

whiteness – yes, multi-coloured, because of the many nuances of white

and grey that resulted from the play of light through the stained glass

windows, and because the white did not always stay white, and because

of the memorial plaques and the coats of arms (in connection with the

tombs) hanging here and there on the pillars.

Thus, without exaggeration we can speak about Dutch seventeenth-century

church interiors in connection with these churches. (We are

not talking about the newly built churches such as the one in

Amsterdam built by Hendrik de Keyzer.) Also the organs that were

usually installed against the west wall contributed to the unique

character of these churches.

It is a truly wonderful experience to wander around in these

buildings. One cannot get enough of their picturesque beauty. The

interplay of the heavy pillars, the large bright windows, the way the light

falls on those pillars and on the greyish floor, with an occasional accent

supplied by the dark diamond-shaped plaques, the sepulchral

monuments, the splendour of the choir stall and the organ. Yes, one

really needs to wander around for a while to allow the constantly

changing perspectives, views, corners, and shifting plays of light to have

their full effect. It is a unique kind of beauty, to be found nowhere else

in the world.

We used the word ‘picturesque’ just now. We use that word, but it

may be that we use it only because a number of painters have opened

our eyes to the poetry and the beauty found here – painters who sing

their songs through the medium of paint, songs about these white, but

far from sterile, delights. Among those artists, there are two who deserve

special mention: Pieter Saenredam and Emanuel de Witte, the greatest

church-painters not just of our own seventeenth century, but of all time.

Pieter Saenredam (1597–1665) painted the Dutch churches

painstakingly and with great precision, without neglecting a single

detail. But he did not lose sight of their coherency, and no one has

comprehended the beauty and uniqueness of these churches as well as

he did. So he offered us, in these church interiors, art that is of

unsurpassed excellence – paintings of small nooks and crannies of the

buildings in which now this, then that delights us as we nose around.

Perhaps the most striking aspect of Saenredam’s art is his feeling for

colour. He transforms the apparently monotonous monochrome

interiors into a rich and fascinating colour-play, in such a way that we

come to see and discover its beauty along with the artist. He does not just

fantasize, but he raises his paintbrush in song to this marvellous facet of

God’s creation.

With his intense feeling for nuances, for slight variations of hue, he

pulls us into the church buildings along with him, to have us join him in

appreciating their splendour. You should really try some time to get a

chance to see the marvellous little painting that shows us one view inside

the St Laurenskerk of Alkmaar. Here we find a great simplicity, but what

variations of colour, what lyricism, what quiet loveliness! Such a work

could only be produced by a master artist. This corner of the church was

not just a random choice, but it was selected with great care, to permit

the creation of an outstanding composition; that one small corner, with

its compelling interplay of perspectives, pulls together all the elements

that make this church so unique. The whitewashed walls alone are

rendered with an unsurpassed artistic excellence.

The art of Emanuel de Witte (1617–1692), a member of the next

generation, is also based on careful precision and accuracy, with the

emphasis (even more so than with Saenredam) on the effects of light.

But de Witte takes much more liberty with his subjects. One church

interior, for example, looks like the church in Delft, but the pulpit

resembles one from the Oude Kerk in Amsterdam. And when we

compare this piece with another one, we notice that at first glance the

two paintings seem to depict the same church but, upon closer

examination, we notice a host of subtle differences.

Those differences are not just accidental. Emanuel de Witte

composed his painting with great precision, and the distinguishing

characteristic of his work is the interplay of light and shadow, which

occurs because of variances in lighting. Paintings can be inspired by the

same church building, but the one can show it with the light coming in

from the right, the other with the light coming in from exactly the

opposite side. The one depicts the church in midday, when the sun

stands high in the sky; the other depicts it in the late afternoon or early

morning. But the really amazing thing is the distribution of light and

dark areas, the way the composition is based on this interplay of light

and shadow. And that is why these two paintings can look so completely

different in their details. For example, the sounding board above the

pulpit in the one is fastened to the side of a pillar (thus preventing

interference with the bright white patch), while in the other that same

object runs around the entire pillar, so that it will cast a shadow in just

the right spot. The painting would lose much of its beauty if that

sounding board had not been positioned exactly in that spot. It is

remarkable; Emanuel de Witte has created two paintings of an almost

identical church scene, but has managed to produce two entirely

different works.

We hope that this has been helpful, not only for gaining a better

understanding of the work of two of our great artists, but also perhaps

for learning to see a little more clearly the beauty hidden in some of our

old churches – hidden, but always perceptible for those willing to take a

look, at any time of day, in any kind of weather. These are treasures that

can never be stolen or taken away; they are there for all to see.

***

Originally published in Dutch in Calvinistisch Jongelingsblad 14, 1959.

Published in English in M. Hengelaar-Rookmaaker (ed.): H.R. Rookmaaker: The Complete Works 4, Piquant – Carlisle, 2003.