Portrait of Abraham van Riebeeck, Governor-General of the Dutch East Indies 1750 - 1800

Editor: So, here we have what is called “Portrait of Abraham van Riebeeck, Governor-General of the Dutch East Indies”, and it’s an oil painting, though the artist is, sadly, unknown to us. Painted sometime between 1750 and 1800, it definitely has a stuffy formality about it, what do you make of it? Curator: Well, that "stuffy formality," as you call it, is exactly what makes these portraits so captivating. The portrait is an act of creation as much as observation, where both subject and artist conspire. How can the trappings of wealth and position transcend the mundane? Do they succeed, here? Editor: Hmm, that’s a very different angle… You’re suggesting that the "stuffy" quality may well be quite deliberate, but do you think it really manages to achieve that sense of transcendence, or does it remain bound by the social conventions of the time? Curator: Exactly! Is he hiding behind them or does he make them… well, *him*? Look at how he holds that baton, an object that doesn't seem essential to his authority, really. Almost a bit… awkward? This imperfection, this *lack* of a natural fit with his surroundings makes the image human for me, a vulnerable crack. Editor: I see your point, actually, now. It's like the baton reveals his humanity despite the effort to show power. I never thought about that, initially writing it off as boring! Curator: Oh, it’s terribly easy to miss that! He doesn't completely inhabit that world; instead, he's subtly questioning it, and perhaps so is the artist! Each gaze at the painting asks that it breathe for us: "How can we ever know a person?". Editor: So, it’s about that dance, between what’s shown and what’s felt, rather than just the display of power? Okay, this has changed my view a lot. Curator: Precisely, and what a delicious, dangerous dance it is! Every old portrait, you see, it’s a riddle wrapped in damask and lace.