Bust of Andries de Graeff (1611-1678), Burgomaster of Amsterdam

Entry

The wealth and power of Amsterdam and of the States faction in the Dutch Republic both before and at the time of Johan de Witt’s leadership as grand pensionary cleared the way for the classicist display of civic pride on an opulent level. Starting in the early 1650s, the construction and decoration of the former Amsterdam town hall (the present-day Royal Palace at Dam Square) in an austere classicist style formed the grandiose manifestation of regental power in the city. SPQR had become SPQA. The republican-orientated, anti-Orange city government enjoyed comparing Amsterdam to antique Rome. They saw themselves as new ‘consuls’ from the days of the Roman republic and as such implicitly as opponents of tyranny. An associated expression of republican (and anti-stadholder) sympathies were the sculpted portraits these men commissioned of themselves from Artus Quellinus I (1609-1668), the sculptor charged with the sculptural decoration of the new town hall. That many of these city officials had also adopted a semi-noble lifestyle, had acquired low-noble titles and sometimes even established actual family ties with members of the true nobility is certain to have contributed to this predilection for the lofty medium of portrait sculpture.

In his speech held at the inauguration of the new town hall, the poet Geeraardt Brandt referred to the burgomasters of Amsterdam as if they were Roman consuls, the inheritors of Brutus, Cato and Cicero who were poised to instate their new capitol building. The person and writings of the latter figure, and particularly his De re publica (54-51 BC), formed an important source of inspiration in this enterprise.³ Cicero propagated the republican state form and repeatedly emphasized the great importance of the individual virtus for the success of the state and its citizens’ willingness to self-sacrifice – especially that of the consul – on behalf of the public cause. Together with a number of other preeminent Roman consuls, this made him an ideal role model for the Amsterdam regents. As a representative of the novus homo – someone not having come from the ever-desirable background of the nobility – Cicero was even more evident as he had still managed to make it into the top echelon of the Roman government. The same was also true of the Amsterdam burgomasters, whose origin lay in the merchant class.

At least thirteen sculpted portraits of burgomasters and their associates survive from this period (1650-1675).⁴ Other works, including two portrait busts of the Bicker brothers, are known only from written sources such as poems by Vondel and Jan Vos. The most important motive for commissioning a bust stemmed from one’s identity as a burgomaster of Amsterdam in and of itself. Not one of the burgomaster busts, as far as can be ascertained, was commissioned within the sitter’s first year in office. Hence, they were not works commissioned simply in recognition of having taken office. Similarly, principles of a political-religious nature had little bearing on the decision to have a sculpted portrait made. While most of the individuals portrayed belonged to the libertine faction within the Amsterdam regent class, Calvinist-leaning burgomasters such as Gerard Schaep van Kortenhoeff (BK-C-2012-1) and Nicolaes Tulp (Collection Six, Amsterdam) are also known to have commissioned portraits of themselves from Quellinus or one of his immediate assistants. Common to all of the known surviving busts is the overtly classicist character, conveyed on various levels: the choice of the bust as a classical visual form, the material marble as the classical sculptor’s medium par excellence, the classical toga, the termination of the bust, the hollowing out of the reverse and the Latin inscription. These all’antica traits fall seamlessly in line with the classicist idiom the Amsterdam burgomasters had chosen to adopt, intended to convey power and status and inspired by the notion of auctoritas of ancient Rome.

Andries de Graeff commissioned Artus Quellinus to make this marble portrait in 1660, directly following his second term in office as burgomaster of Amsterdam – a function he was destined to hold an additional five times. The portrait took the form of a half-length bust with the head turned to one side and the right hand pressed to the breast, holding up his mantle. This impressive manner of presentation formed a precedent in seventeenth-century Dutch sculpture. De Graeff had already proved himself a pioneering patron when in 1639 he commissioned Rembrandt to paint a full-length portrait of himself. This ‘aristocratic’ rendering was the sole work among a small group of comparable full-length Amsterdam portraits that was not intended as a wedding portrait.⁵ For the present marble bust, De Graeff again chose for the princely portrait type. This unconventional choice may have been motivated by a pair of half-length busts that Quellinus had completed prior to this time, depicting the sovereign Duke Frederick III of Schleswig-Holstein-Gottorf and Marie Elisabeth of Saxony.⁶ Unlike the freely sculpted arms on the bust of the German duke – virtually standard on ruler’s portraits of this kind – those on the present bust are largely concealed beneath the sitter’s ample toga. Nevertheless, the unabashed glorification of the function of burgomaster, linked by association to the genre of the aristocratic ruler’s portrait, is certain to have escaped no one. Furthermore, the Latin inscription AND[ries]. DE.GRAEFF. CO[n]S[ul] AMST[elodamensis]. A.QUELLINO.F[ecit]. CICICLXI left no doubt regarding the direct reference to Roman consulship as a model and precursor.

De Graeff appears to be frozen in time, precisely at that moment when he approaches his onlooker filled with determination. Quellinus managed to achieve a similar effect four years later in his portrait of Grand Pensionary Johan de Witt (1623-1672), today preserved at the Dordrechts Museum. In this latter portrait, however, he did so by placing a pair of gloves in his hand. The bust’s clever termination, the elaborate folds of the toga, the positioning of the head and De Graeff’s hand gesture are details that clearly recall Quellinus’s years in Rome, where he was active from 1635 to 1639. These motifs betray a direct knowledge of recent developments in the Italian baroque sculpture, but also possibly portraits from antiquity. One even discerns the vague echo of one of the best-known busts from Antiquity and a cultural attraction in Rome starting in the sixteenth century: the bronze bust of Brutus, the first consul of the Roman Republic. Brutus was seen to personify the virtues of the classical statesman – wisdom, determination and strictness, and in Petrarch’s view, he served as the fundator libertatis.⁷ That Quellinus was familiar with this bronze is evident from the relief depiction of the Judgement of Brutus, made for the Vierschaar of the Amsterdam town hall.⁸ The choice in favour of an innovative visual form and its masterful realization, as preserved in the present bust, express both De Graeff’s social aspiration and the artistic ambition of Quellinus, who with the present bust managed to equal his Italian models. At no point prior to this time had a citizen been portrayed in this manner in the Dutch Republic. Judging by the copies that followed, the bust enjoyed considerable success among members of Amsterdam’s elite circles. At least three similar portraits were made in the years to follow: one by Quellinus himself and two others by his assistant, Bartholomeus Eggers, who was likely also involved in the making of the two busts at Schleswig-Holstein.⁹ As was customary, a terracotta version of the bust of Andries de Graeff also existed. Unusual, however, was a cast made in bronze. In the mid-eighteenth century, both of these works were preserved at the Tussenburg, a country estate in Voorburg. Originally in the possession of Maria van den Honert (1689-1756), a direct descendent of Johan de Witt and Wendela Bicker, in 1757 they entered the possession of her son, H.C.J. van Eversdijck (1727-1765).¹⁰ The whereabouts of these two works has remained unknown ever since.

Frits Scholten, 2024