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One of the reasons I decided to study Rembrandt, the artist-entrepreneur, was that I learnt he had gone ‘bankrupt’ in 1656. This would have brought him into contact with the legal system that existed at that time. During my research, I also discovered that he was a rather stubborn man who had got himeself into trouble a number of times. This all transpired when he was working as a professional artist in a period spanning four decades in the 17th century. I was keen to learn more about all these matters. So, I began investigating his professional and personal life and the conflicts he had become embroiled in. In my book of 2021 I have covered the large majority of them. This podcast looks more closely at just three of these conflicts.
Written sources
When my interest in Rembrandt as an artist-entrepreneur started to develop mid-2017, I immediately noticed that he had left behind very little that would tell us about his life and his ideas, such as a diary, personal notes, or some letters. His conflicts, I discovered, had been numerous. Information about these, including his disputes, is recorded in around 150 documents found in archives, court records, tax registers, and notarial archives in Leiden, The Hague, Leeuwarden and Amsterdam. I counted approximately 30 legal conflicts and battles of all kinds. They involved customers (about quality of work; sharp business practices or prices), a fellow etcher, a neighbour (about reconstruction costs for an adjacent house). We see Rembrandt hastily taking out loans to pay off his debts (today we would call these ‘panic’ loans), not paying rent for an auction room, transferring ownership of his house – possibly to the detriment of creditors – and accumulating rent arrears for his final home.
As I said, I’ve selected only three of these conflicts to look at in more detail. They are set in the 1630s, 1640s and the 1650s and always occurred in Amsterdam. The first conflict concerns Samuel d’Orta, a fellow artist. This case was about etchings. The second conflict is with the mighty regent Andries de Graeff, a very unsatisfied customer. The third conflict involves another unhappy customer, Diego d’Andrade. Were these conflicts solved out of court? Or were the courts required to give a decision? And how did Rembrandt emerge from these battles?
Samuel d’Orta
The first story concerns Rembrandt’s work as an etcher. He has built up great fame in this particular field of art and is renowned for his unparalleled etching technique and the imagination he added to his work. As a printmaker, Rembrandt was at least as productive and versatile as he was as a painter (Schatborn/Hinderding (2019), p. 467). Eighty of Rembrandt’s graphic oeuvre (from a total of 314) are based on biblical subjects. Ten of these are taken from the Old Testament book of Genesis; one being an etching of Abraham rejecting Hagar and Ishmael (Schatborn/Hinderding (2019), pp. 472 and 479).
The date is 1637, more specifically 17 December 1637, according to the date of the notarial deed. On this day, two persons appeared before notary Benedict Baddel and in the presence of two witnesses. They are young lads, one is around 20 years old and one around 16, both born in the small town of Hoorn. The deed states that both were well known to the notary, though this sentence can be seen as a standard clause in a notarial document. Both young men were acting upon the request of Samuel d’Orta who was a Portugese painter. The notarial deed says that d’Orta (‘d’ apostrophe capital ‘O’) was living in Amsterdam.
They testified – as the notary declares – to tell the sincere truth, and that is that yesterday the 16th, in the evening, they were present, heard, and observed that Mr d’Orta complained at his house to a certain ‘Reijnbrand van Rhijn’, a fellow painter residing on the Binnen Amstel of this city, that he, van Rhijn, had not treated him properly as regards a certain print. The print depicted Abraham and Hagar, of which Rembrandt had sold him the plate (‘de plaet’), on the condition that Rembrandt had not kept any of the prints, except two or three which he stated would be for his own use and curiosity, but whether many or a few, he would not sell them to anyone. A fairly extensive description of what we now call an exclusivity clause.
The deed continues that Rembrandt ‘… did clearly and repeatedly agree and admit that he had promised not to sell the three or four of the same which he still had in his possession (so he said)’.
[Abraham Dismissing Hagar and Ishmael, 1637;
Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam]
In a recent publication, Mirjam Knotter provides more information about Samuel d’Orta. Among other things, he was born in Amsterdam in 1618 as the son of a Portugues ‘converso’ Sephardim Jewish merchant and his wife. So, on the day of his business with Rembrandt, Samuel would have been around 19 years old. Besides being a painter, Samuel was also a dealer in art and jewellery in Paris, Antwerp and The Hague (Knotter (2024), p. 30ff.)
So much for the text of the deed of notary Benedict Baddel. It seems that Samuel d’Orta, suspects Rembrandt of acting in violation of his exclusive right, by printing for himself and possibly for selling impressions of an etching plate he had sold to d’Orta. What happens so often when studying Rembrandt also happens here. What’s the next step in the story, a settlement of the dispute? Another solution? Court proceedings? We’ve no idea. What is clear, though, is that d’Orta obviously suspected that Rembrandt had violated or would violate the agreement not to sell any prints of this etching. Was the notarial recording the alleged breach of the agreement in a notarized statement the first step towards a liability case? We just don’t know.
What this document does reveal is that in December 1637, Rembrandt was residing on the Binnen Amstel in Amsterdam. Rembrandt and Saskia had moved to the house known as ‘The four Sugar Loaves’ adjacent to the ‘Suger backery’ on the Binnen-Amstel, now Zwanenburgerstraat 41 (see https://www.amsterdamhv.nl/wiki/zwanenburgerstraat.html). They would live there until 1639, and their next house was most probably on the Breestraat.
Andries de Graeff
In 1642, Rembrandt became embroiled in a conflict with Andries de Graeff. The issue was about the correct likeness of De Graeff in the portrait that Rembrandt had painted of him in 1639.
[Rembrandt, Andries de Graeff (1611-1678), 1639;
Van Staatliche Museen, Kassel]
Who is Andries de Graeff (1611-1678)? He was a descendant of a wealthy family of regents. Various members of the De Graeff dynasty held numerous positions in the Amsterdam City Council. Both Andries’ grandfather and his father were mayors (burgomasters). He would become mayor seven times himself between 1657 and 1672, especially in the years after the death of his brother Cornelis, who was also a mayor, in 1664. From 1665 to 1672, Andries was a member of the ‘Vroedschap’, ie the Amsterdam City Council. However, when he was painted by Rembrandt, he was still quite young, aged 28 years.
Andries studied law in Poitiers, where he was promoted to master of laws, at the age of 23, in 1634. Changes in the Amsterdam government in 1672 (with once again an Orange leader after 21 years) caused Andries to flea overnight to Utrecht. He spent the last years of his life in one of the largest houses in the Golden Bend of the Herengracht, at no. 446, see https://amsterdamsegrachtenhuizen.info/grachten/hge/hge500/hg18446/index-tx_sbtab_pi1%5Btab%5D=1.html.
Now, let’s turn to the conflict Rembrandt had with Andries de Graeff. This only becomes clearer from a statement made by an old acquaintance of Rembrandt, Hendrick Uylenburgh (ca. 1584–1661). He makes a deposition no less then 20 years after the painting was made, in 1659. At that time, Uylenburgh had been active in the art business for over three decades. His work included buying and selling works of art, valuing artwork for private individuals, as well as acting as an arbitrator.
In 1659, the records of notary Nicolaes Listingh show that Uylenburgh declared that he had acted as arbitrator (‘goede man’) in the matter (‘in de saecke en questie’) between Andries de Graeff, on the one side, and ‘Van Rijn’, on the other. The notary went on to note that the matter concerned a painting or portrait (‘een stuck schilderije off conterfijtsel’) that Rembrandt had painted of him.
Uylenburgh stated that he, as well as the other arbitrators, had expressed the opinion that Van Rhijn should be paid the sum of 500 guilders for it by De Graeff. According to his recollection, this matter had arisen and was settled in 1642.
Bontemantel (1897), 495, notes that a ‘goede man’ means arbitrator. Commissioners do not pass a judgement; instead they provide a settlement. He adds that in Amsterdam, a ‘goede man’ also has another meaning, i.e. that commissioners refer a case to an expert. Such an expert was chosen by the court (‘schepenrechtbank’) from among each industry’s most prominent persons.
What was the reason for giving this statement 20 years after the painting had been made? The deposition was provided at the request of Louis Crayers, a lawyer, in his capacity as guardian to Rembrandt’s son Titus van Rhijn. At that time, Titus was around 18 years old. The deposition given indicates that Titus’ guardian, Louis Crayers, apparently considered that the amount paid and therefore due to Rembrandt must be of importance on the day of Saskia’s death, on 14 June 1642. In his role as Titus’ guardian, it was important to establish the value of Rembrandt and Saskia’s estate at the time of her death, including determining what assets and monies belonged to the community of property and what did not. This was important because according to his mother’s will, Titus had a substantial stake in her inheritance.
The author Dudok van Heel indicates that Andries de Graeff’s dissatisfaction must have been related to a comparison with the large portraits of his two brothers (one dated 1630, by an unknown painter, and one from 1636, by Pickenoy). He submits that Rembrandt’s portrait shows a lack of social décor, has no sleek, classicist background, and is poorly designed (‘brokkelige architectuur’, literally: a crumbly architecture). See Dudok van Heel (2020), 83. Another possibility could be that Andries took issue with the price to be paid (500 guilders, as awarded by arbitrators), and – according to Kolfin (2023), p. 85 – a common price for such a painting would be between 100 and 150 guilders.
Perhaps Andries was not so much concerned with the similarity or otherwise. A detail attracts attention – there’s a glove lying on the floor. Is this to indicate that he’s open to marriage? Probably not, because he would only marry seven years later (in 1646 to his cousin Elisabeth Bicker van Swieten (1623-1656)). Has the glove been thrown forcefully to the ground, signalling a challenge to a duel? No, says Manuth et al (2019), p. 627ff. The prevailing taste at the time was to express a certain nonchalance. And that’s what Rembrandt painted.
Although Rembrandt was paid as ordered by the arbitrators, it was a Pyrrhic victory, because by quarrelling with one of the most powerful regents he lost his chances of receiving commissions from the city council. The omnipotence of the young Andries de Graeff will have ensured that a large elite group heard of his disagreement with Rembrandt. Gossip or hearsay can function like an almighty sword. Whatever the case, Bikker (curator of the Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam) signals that as a painter, Rembrandt will hardly ever receive commissions from the elite network again: ‘For the entire nine years between 1643 and 1652, there is not a single uncontested portrait by Rembrandt that was painted on commission’, Bikker (2019), 134, concludes.
Diego d’Andrada,
The third quarrel I cover dates from the 1650s. Rembrandt had to deal with yet another dissatisfied customer. This was a customer who had ordered a portrait of a young woman from Rembrandt and then requested the advance of 75 guilders be repaid because he was disappointed with the likeness. Rembrandt refused. The customer also asked Rembrandt to change the portrait to improve the likeness as soon as possible as the woman in question would soon depart for the city of Hamburg. Rembrandt refused to retouch the painting until the full purchase price had been paid.
This is what the notarial deed says:
On 23 February 1654, civil-law notary Adriaen Lock and two witnesses visited Rembrandt on behalf of Diego d’Andrada, a Portuguese merchant in Amsterdam (‘alhijer’). They state that d’Andrada asserts that Rembrandt is about to portrait a young lady (‘seeckere jonge dochter’). He had already given the painter an advance of 75 guilders, the remainder being payable on completion of the painting (‘volcomentlijck sal sijn opgemaeckt’). However, d’Andrada alleged that the painting or portrait bore not even the slightest resemblance to the person or face of the aforesaid young lady (‘schilderij ofte conterfeytsel op verre nae niet en gelijckt het wesen ofte tronie van de voorsz. jongedochter’). He demanded that Rembrandt alter and retouch the portrait so that it resembled the sitter. There is some urgency to his claim since he would soon be travelling to Hamburg. If the likeness was not good (‘naer behoren’), d’Andrada would not accept the portrait and would want his down payment returned.
Rembrandt has no intention of doing this. He responds in an uncompromising manner. The notary records, that Rembrandt would not touch the painting or finish it now (‘… alsnu sijn handen aen tstuck schilderij niet en wil slaen nochte hetselve opmaecken’) before receiving the remainder of the payment. Only then would he be prepared to complete the painting and leave it to the headmen of the Guild of Saint Luke to decide whether or not it was a good likeness of the lady (‘… stellen ‘t aen ’t oordeel van de Overluijden vant St. Lucasgilt of het de dochter glijckt dan niet’). Rembrandt, the notary notes, would only make changes if their verdict was unfavourable. If that was not to the satisfaction of d’Andrada, when it was convenient, Rembrandt would finish the painting and when he arranged an auction, he would sell it (‘Ende bij aldien den insinuant daermede niet tevreeden is, soo sal hij ‘t selve schilderij bij gelegentheyt opmaecken ende als hij vendu hout van sijn schilderij, ‘t selve alsdan mede sal vercoopen’).
The deed refers to ‘jonge dochter’ (young daughter) and ‘jongedochter’, written as a single word (‘youngdaughter’). It meant an unmarried woman, often related to a relatively young woman, otherwise it would be old (‘oude’ or ‘ouwe’) or elderly (‘bejaarde’) ‘youngdaughter’, a woman of age that had never married. Who was she? Many possibilities have been suggested. Knotter (Knotter (2024), 37) follows the suggestion of Jaap van der Veen that it is a young Sephardi woman, Beatriz (Rachel) Nunes Henriquez, who married that same year in Hamburg.
Rembrandt’s references to sell the painting at an auction raises another question: did he indeed arrange for such auctions privately? The only evidence available relates to auctions (as from 1655) relating to the administration of his insolvency proceedings. See www.rembrandtsmoney.com, with my podcast RM2024011, and accompanying addendum text.
By today’s standards, Rembrandt’s reaction seems rather inflexible; that of someone who feels offended or perhaps distrusted (Manuth et al. (2019), 378). However, from his brief retort, Crenshaw in his well-known book of 2006 deducts Rembrandt’s psychological and social character. Crenshaw submits that Rembrandt stood up for his rights, would not bow to a patron, emphasizing the quality of his work, seeming to have known exactly how to handle this situation (e.g. without the need to seek legal representation), had contempt for the judgement of non-professionals and knew that he had options to sell a piece of art in another way. In his ‘crisis management’ with a patron, Crenshaw’s submission continues: Rembrandt had faith in the quality of his work, confidence in his ability to sell his paintings and a stubbornness ‘that borders on social defiance’, all character traits that were ‘… exhibited by Rembrandt throughout his career’. Crenshaw (2006), 120ff, and 125.
Conclusion
In his thorough study, Crenshaw forms a view of the artist’s rapport with his clients, his manner of conducting business and his personal views of his own craftsmanship. Overall, he concludes that Rembrandt continually asserted his independence from the demands of creditors, patrons, and the market at large. He was quite stubborn in refusing to accommodate the wishes of clients and insisted on claiming what he saw as his right to defend the high quality and monetary value of his work in each case. In doing so, in the long run, he undermined his customer base. Even when Rembrandt desperately needed money, Crenshaw claims that he refused to compromise his artistic standards.
During his life, Rembrandt hungered for fame. In the earlier part of his Amsterdam period, he was a much desired and celebrated artist. His 18th century biographer Houbraken notes that ‘… his Art (‘Konst’) was so timely and sought-after that they (as the saying goes) had to pray and throw in extra money’ (‘… moest bidden en geld toegeven’). For many years, he was so busy painting that people had to wait a long time for their pieces. Still, his work went on skilfully, in particular during his latter period when it appeared, on closer inspection, as though his paint had been ‘smeared on’ with a bricklayer’s trowel (‘… met een Metzelaars truffel was aangesmeert’). That is pretty strong, rather unkind language! See Houbraken (1718-1721), I, 269.
In Rembrandt’s work, that covered a period of close to 40 years, certain other character traits emerge: he was stubborn (tolerating no criticism or interference, not wanting to make any changes to his work). He was slow to deliver; see Houbraken (1718-1721), I, 268. And sometimes he simply delivered poor work. Houbraken writes that Rembrandt ‘… has done things only half … And so it also went with his paintings, of which I have several in which things were carried out extremely in detail and the rest was daubed as with a raw tarbrush (‘ruwe teerkwast’) …’ (Houbraken (1718-1721), I, 268). He is inflexible and unwilling to compromise. Also, disputes that he did not initiate himself almost always ended up in court or were decided in arbitration. Some of his actions also indicate that he could not be trusted.
Examples include Samuel d’Orta’s accusation of pure and simple deceit and the delivery of a painting to a Sicilian patron Antonio Ruffo that was painted on four pieces of canvas sewn together. He also structurally failed to pay off debts, not only related to the house, but also regarding Lodewijk van Ludick and Harmen Becker with paintings, despite repeated promises. Predictability in his delivery and honesty in his actions were certainly not among Rembrandt’s core values.
References
Knotter, Mirjam, Sephardi Jewish Life and Material Culture in Rembrandt’s Time, in: Mirjam Knotter, Gary Schwartz (eds), Rembrandt Seen Through Jewish Eyes, Amsterdam University Press 2024, 23ff.
Kolfin, Elmer, De kunst van de macht. Jordaens, Lievens en Rembrandt in het Paleis op de Dam, Zwolle: Waanders Uitgeverij, 2023. Schatborn, Peter, and Erik Hinterding, Rembrandt. Alle tekenngen en etsen, Keulen: