As I made my way to the Philips Wing of Amsterdam’s Rijksmuseum on a sunny afternoon in early March, it suddenly dawned on me that I would soon be coming face-to-face not only with some fifty masterpieces by the iconic 17th-century painter Frans Hals (considered one of the three greats of Dutch art, along with Rembrandt and Vermeer), but with the very portrait that had awakened my love for Golden Age painting: The Laughing Cavalier (1624).
I still remember that college lecture all those years ago and being mesmerized by what I thought was a flirty smile, only to have my professor quickly burst that bubble. The elegant man captured on canvas, hand confidently on hip and flamboyantly dressed in the most fashionable French couture, was, in fact, not smiling.
The Laughing Cavalier, 1624, The Wallace Collection, London
This was simply an illusion created by his bushy, frivolously upturned mustache. Nevertheless, I was smitten. Little did I know that just a few years later, I would actually find myself in the Netherlands, studying Dutch art and becoming a regular at places like the Rijksmuseum and the Frans Hals Museum in Haarlem, home to the largest collection of Hals paintings. When I heard that the Rijksmuseum was organizing the first major Hals retrospective in more than thirty years – and that it would include The Laughing Cavalier, on loan from the Wallace Collection in London – I quickly secured my ticket.
Though I had seen and admired much of Hals’s work, I did not expect this exhibition to tug at my heartstrings the way it did. Walking through the various expo rooms, Hals’s energy and genius became palpable. But more than that, I felt as though I was intimately becoming acquainted with the many people he so brilliantly immortalized – from peasants and fisher children, to militiamen and Dutch aristocracy.Â
Portrait of a Couple, probably Isaac Abrahamsz Massa and Beatrix van der Laen, about 1622, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam
Banquet of the Officers of the St George Civic Guard, about 1627, Frans Hals Museum, Haarlem
Young Woman (‘La Bohémienne’), about 1632, Musée du Louvre, Paris, Paintings Department
Regarded as one of the most important portrait painters of the Golden Age, Frans Hals was born in Antwerp somewhere between 1582 and 1584. After the fall of Antwerp in 1585, his parents fled north to Haarlem, where Hals would hone his craft. He apprenticed under mannerist painter Karel van Mander and started working independently as a member of the Haarlem painter’s guild in 1610. Hals went on to become a pioneer in capturing the fleeting expressions and natural movements of his subjects, imbuing his paintings with a sense of life and immediacy. He was sought-after and never short of assignments. Everyone wanted to be painted by Hals. Yet during the 18th century and first half of the 19th century, he was forgotten and sometimes even discredited as a drunk who made paintings that were hardly valuable to the art market. It wasn’t until 1868 that Hals was rediscovered by influential French art critic Théophile Thoré-Bürger. Painters such as Van Gogh, Courbet, Manet, Monet, Singer Sargent and Liebermann took note and were soon flocking to Haarlem to admire Hals from up close. By the end of the 19th century not only did Haarlem become a place of art pilgrimage, but Hals, who was now viewed as an innovator, had become an idol and an incredible source of inspiration, especially for the Impressionists.
The exhibition at Rijksmuseum provides a comprehensive overview of Hals’s career, giving visitors the opportunity to witness the evolution of his style, from his early years, to his later works, including the monumental Regentesses of the Old Men’s Alms House, one of his last pieces, painted in 1664, just two years before his death in 1666.
Regentesses of the Old Men’s Alms House, about 1664, Frans Hals Museum, Haarlem
One cannot help but be struck by the vitality and dynamism that permeate his paintings, as well as his ability to capture the individuality and character of each sitter. One of the most striking qualities of Hals’s work is how his loose brushstrokes manage to convey movement and bring his sitters to life. And nowhere is this more evident than in the way he captured laughter. Walking through the exhibition, I see the toothy grin of the Laughing Boy with a Wine Glass (approx. 1630), the shy smile of the Fisherboy (1638) and the somewhat unnerving grimace of Malle Babbe (approx. 1640). They are like modern-day snapshots, beautifully frozen in time.Â
Laughing Boy with a Wine Glass, about 1630, Staatliche Schlösser, Gärten und Kunstsammlungen MecklenburgVorpommern, Schwerin
Fisherboy, about 1638, Royal Museum of Fine Arts Antwerp – Flemish Community
Malle Babbe, about 1640, Staatliche Museen zu Berlin, Gemäldegalerie
After making my way through the exposition, I returned to lock eyes one final time with The Laughing Cavalier. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one enamored with his gaze and charmed by his presence, judging from the many fans huddled before him. In 1865, the painting fetched an astronomical sum of 51,000 French francs, and to this day, it is regarded as one of the highlights of his career.
The Hals exhibition certainly allows you to experience the master’s technical prowess from up close and discover more about life and society in the 17th century, but what really makes it a must-visit is the way in which visitors will be drawn in to his work. Whether depicting a chuckling child, a proud merchant, or a confident bachelor, Hals infuses each portrait with a sense of humanity and depth that transcends centuries.
The Frans Hals exhibition can be seen until June 9th.