Heilige Innocentius after 1636

Curator: Looking at this piece, “Heilige Innocentius” created after 1636 by Frederick Bloemaert and held here at the Rijksmuseum, I immediately feel drawn into a very introspective space. What's your initial read? Editor: Bleak. Utterly bleak, wouldn't you say? The high-contrast engraving work lends this portrait a somewhat gothic intensity, almost exaggerated with that almost comically elongated face. Curator: Ah, interesting that you call it "comical." I read the elongation more as an ethereal touch. The subject, Saint Innocent, is shown deep in contemplation, and the way Bloemaert uses the engraving to capture the folds of his robe, his weathered hands, is quite profound. Do you see how the ruggedness of the setting, maybe suggesting some hermitage, contrasts so beautifully with the details? Editor: Yes, but the detail almost serves a purpose – reinforcing this image as a statement. Placing him next to a crucifix in such harsh, almost barren landscape serves to hammer in ideas of piety, sacrifice… I feel like I'm being told, rather than shown. It feels like art serving power. Curator: That's valid, certainly, viewing the piece through a political lens. But doesn’t the medium, this very delicate engraving technique, also complicate that? Consider that engravings at this time, although easily reproducible, demanded a high level of craftsmanship. There's an inherent intimacy in its making, don’t you think? And isn't there something universally poignant in representing monastic dedication, whatever one's view of that life is? Editor: Intimacy can also be wielded as propaganda! And Baroque portraiture often was exactly that: displays of power and moral superiority couched in drama. To see how religious iconography intertwined with worldly power is simply how I experience this particular example. Curator: Maybe. Maybe its stark composition has more to offer beyond didactic messages. Maybe it speaks quietly to the lonely vigil each of us keeps, wrestling with our demons… See what you made me do? The melancholia is infectious! Editor: Precisely! It provoked feeling, dialogue. Regardless of our interpretive differences, the image has a sustained power to, well, force a conversation across centuries. Curator: Beautifully put.