Day 236 - Two representations of enslaved Black people in 17th century portraiture

February 8, 2021

A major snowstorm and many tasks that needed attending to kept me away from the museum for two weeks. It felt good to be back!

Again, I was at first annoyed by the obligatory politically correct signage in Gallery 617,  which is devoted to Baroque portraiture.  A placard informs us that wealth in 17th century Europe often depended on the exploitation of others (since when hasn't wealth depended on exploitation?), and that those exploited included enslaved people who rarely appeared in portraits of the period.  And again, I was chagrined by my initial reaction. By the end of the visit, I realized that I had learned something new, and that the signage, although ham-fisted, had given me a different perspective on  the two paintings that are the focus of today's entry.  

The first is Velasquez' celebrated portrait of his enslaved assistant,  Juan de Pareja.  Painted in oil on canvas and measuring about 28" by 28," the work was executed in 1650, when Pareja was 46 and Velasquez about five years older.  From the outset, the portrait received wide acclaim. Pareja is shown from the waist up; his body is turned away from the viewer. while he looks out at us, a lacy white collar framing his face. I wonder what he was thinking as he posed for his master. His expression is one of ineffable dignity; although he may be enslaved, he is in no way psychologically beaten down.  It is gratifying to learn that shortly after this work was completed, Velasquez signed a contract that released Pareja from bondage in 1654,  and Pareja lived the last 16 years of his life as a free man, and a painter himself.

The second work, much larger in scale (about 54" high and 46" wide), was painted in 1696 by Nicolas de Largilliere and is entitled "Portrait of a Woman and an Enslaved Servant." I wonder whether that was the original title or whether it was superimposed on the picture by the museum,  because the enslaved servant is barely visible in the painting. Largilliere clearly lavished attention on depicting the sheen of the  woman's gown and the lace and jeweled ornaments adorning it. He took pains to show the olive-tinged wing of the parrot perched beside her, along with the bird's orange breast, black, white, and gray head, and yellow eye. He detailed the plant flowering at her feet and the classical statuette in a niche above her shoulder.  The white muzzle and shining eyes of a little dog beside her draw our attention. But the young  servant, whose metal collar indicates his enslaved status, is just a dark, indistinct presence at the woman's side. If we didn't notice the whites of his upturned eyes, we might overlook him completely.  And it occurs to me that that is a fundamental aspect of slavery - that one's very presence as a person with a distinct identity and with independent agency can be readily disregarded.