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In standard text-books Adriaen de Vries is often dealt with among German artists and, quite consistently, labelled as 'somewhat exotic'. Exhibitions and research of the last few decades have indicated what is confirmed here, that the artist was much more than that. Adriaen de Vries was a fascinating and prolific artist with his very own pathos, an outstanding and original agent of the cosmopolitan, mannerist style to which he proscribed. Adriaen de Vries was born in The Hague in 1556. He left, with many others, the hostile and iconoclastic environment of the early reformation in the Netherlands and went to Italy 1581. In Florence he studied for Giambologna and came to Pompeo Leoni's workshop in Milan 1586. In 1589 he came, for the first time, to the court of Rudolph II in Prague. After a brief stay in The Hague and a longer stay in Rome he returned to Prague in 1601. He stayed there even after Rudolph's death in 1612, until his own death in 1626. His major works are not numerous, but thoroughly spread out over Europe from the Escorial in the South to Prague and Frederiksborg (Denmark) in the North. Already in the seventeenth century several of his works were taken as war booty to Sweden and have remained there since. The exhibition is, quite consistently, a co-operation between the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam, the J. Paul Getty Museum in Los Angeles and the Nationalmuseum in Stockholm. Among the lenders are the Louvre, the Victoria & Albert, the Kunsthistorisches Museum in Vienna and private collectors in the USA, Germany and England. The main part of the exhibition is situated in the sculpture hall of the Nationalmuseum, a great room for this kind of exhibition. Certainly the hall stands out much better than with the hanging of 'highlights' to which it is usually reserved. Already in the staircase one is met by one of de Vries' most spectacular works, Mercury and Psyche, from 1593 (Fig 1). This sculpture demands to be seen from all sides, and the viewer is driven around it in an attempt to find 'the right angle'. Somehow de Vries always succeeds in hiding something from the spectator's gaze, to keep curiosity alive and the longing for completeness unsatisfied. Mercury is shown just lifting from the ground, only part of the right foot still touching it. But Psyche at the same time seems to be gliding out of his arms, just about to land, rather than to be lifted toward the sky. This mood of uncertainty, disturbing and exciting at the same time, is typical for the artist. It is seen again in the late Wrestlers from 1625 (Fig 2). The combatants are shown in a struggle without any possible outcome. It reflects inner struggles and constitutions; a psychological discomfort that is given physical, outward expression. Bodies and faces of both wrestlers are more or less the same; eyes, nose and mouth are closely gathered, for a minimum of individuality or transitory expressiveness. The Wrestlers is also a fine illustration of the artist's own struggle with antiquity. Several other such works are included in the exhibition and discussed in the catalogue by Lars Olof Larsson. The iconographical meanings of the works are given by their connotations to original and, mostly, well-known antique works. The rhetoric concepts of imitatio and aemulatio are used by Larsson to clarify the Renaissance position toward antiquity: Ancient sculpture, like all history, was a source for creative learning, for imitatio - not to be confused with simply imitating. With the glorification of Antiquity, its creations became not only a supply to exploit, but also a counterpart to compete with and to surpass, by way of aemulatio. Another example is The Juggling Man from about 1610-1615 (Fig 3). Compared with the antique source, de Vries' aemulatio may, at first, not appear startling (Fig 4). But when looked at more closely, one is stunned by the altogether different handling of the theme. The antique work is rhythmic and clearly disposed. Knees, hips, arms and muscles are distinctly carved and co-ordinated. But de Vries' juggler exposes a totally different attitude. All limbs and muscles are smoothed out, and at the same time there are no simplifications or large smooth areas. Hands and head do not co-operate in a unified movement, but give us instead, again, the undecided atmosphere of inner contemplation and thoughtfulness-in the midst of acrobatic display. An iconological interpretation at the exhibition and in the catalogue entry tries to establish a connection between The Juggling Man and sixteenth century emblematic and alchemical illustrations; an interpretation that seems rather strained. It also seems to be in conflict with the more obvious reference to antiquity. This great piece of sculpture does not need far-fetched iconological interpretations for recognition. Another aspect that is perhaps given a bit too much attention in the all in all well conceived and beautiful catalogue is the concept of sprezzatura. The familiar quote from Castiglione on this concept is certainly attractive and useful, but exactly for this reason one must be careful not to use it when it is not called for. As applied by Fritz Scholten in his important discussion on the artist's use of impasto, it is probably reasonable. But it also stands as a motto for the whole exhibition. From what has been said, and from the works mentioned, it should be clear that de Vries' aesthetic inclination was not toward that which "conceals art and makes whatever one says or does seem effortless and almost without thought". On the contrary, many of his works seem consciously extravagant and exclusive. The solutions preferred are seldom simple and elegant, but complex and elaborated. An exception to this esoteric attitude is given by one of de Vries' more popular works, The Forge of Vulcan from 1611 (Fig 5). In this piece the bodily expressions and athletic outbursts of muscular strength are grounded in adequate reason. For once the outer world is recognised and exterior occupations are allowed to infiltrate the behaviour of the actors, absorbed by their proletarian activities. By contrast, it illustrates even more clearly the total self-sufficiency and selfcontained superiority of the other characters conceived by de Vries; their truly aristocratic and aesthetic integrity. At the exhibition
a few prints after his works and some drawings can also be seen. The demanding
work of forming a corpus out of Adriaen de Vries' shattered drawings has
only just begun. Maybe this will be the next step in the development of
our knowledge of this important and fascinating artist. A work that will
have to be a coordination of research and exhibition in the same way as
with the sculpture. Source: "Adriaen de Vries (1556-1626) - Imperial Sculptor", [review], Konsthistorisk tidskrift LXVIII:3, pp 209-212 Note: Due to copy-right restrictions no illustrations are found in the above text, but in the printed version only.
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