Black is Beautiful: Rubens to Dumas.

Black is Beautiful: Rubens to Dumas

De Nieuwe Kerk

Amsterdam, The Netherlands

July 26-October 26, 2008

In the summer of 2008 the exhibition "Black is Beautiful: Rubens to Dumas" showed a wide-ranging selection of paintings of blacks made by Netherlandish and contemporary Dutch painters. This exhibition was very contentious. Some of the reviews denounced the exhibition asa "naive correction" of a long history of racism. The reviewers felt that this celebration of blackness was only "skin-deep" in its exploration of the representation of blacks in Dutch art. More positive evaluations denounced these critical reviews as "hyper-correct," suggesting that the reviewers merely sought to articulate their own political correctness rather than review the exhibition on its merits. The exhibition clearly created a stir in the quiet pond of Dutch race relations.

"Black is Beautiful" brought together a selection of works by painters and draughtsmen ranging from Rubens to Dumas, Rembrandt to Iris Kensmil. The curator aimed to give an overview of seven centuries of blacks in Dutch art, or more precisely, in art made in the Netherlands since 1300. The exhibition intended to give a positive image of blacks. Where memorable exhibitions such as "White on Black" had shown how Dutch visual culture had always portrayed blacks in racist and subordinate ways, this exhibition was meant to show that blacks had been portrayed not only as slaves and servants, but as dignified persons.

There is no doubt that this exhibition makes an important statement. Blacks have indeed been represented in Dutch art for seven hundred years. Many Dutch artists, including the most celebrated, have portrayed blacks in a variety of roles. The exhibition is a true eye-opener to what this observer, at least, did not know: that the greatest of Dutch painters indeed took a serious interest in depicting black people as blacks--recognizing their different skin color--and set themselves the task of representing blacks in ways that did justice to them. They studied blackness and succeeded in making incredibly sensitive portraits of black kings, princes, and, indeed, slaves and servants. Thus the exhibition recognized blacks in Dutch art history and beyond that, in the mythological, biblical, and historical worlds that have always appeared to us as entirely white. To establish recognition of black presence is no mean feat. As one black woman visiting the exhibit exclaimed with respect to Jacob Jordaens' portrait of Moses and his Ethiopian Wife (c. 1650): "I didn't know that Moses was married to a black woman!" Nor did I and, I assume, quite a few visitors.

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The exhibition was given a prime location. De Nieuwe Kerk is the church where for centuries Dutch kings and queens have been enthroned. In 2002, this is where the Dutch Prince of Orange Willem Alexander married Maxima Zorreguieta. This white woman of Argentinian descent was a controversial choice as Princess of the Netherlands--her father had played a major role in the "disappearance" of many Argentinians during the dictatorship. But Maxima was embraced by the Dutch population at large for her spontaneous nature and comely appearance. This was hurtful to some Dutch of slave descent, who after decolonization had chosen to reside in the Netherlands. How could it be that a white woman whose family history was seriously tainted was allowed to marry the Prince of Orange and be embraced by the Dutch population as one of them--not unlike Diana, Princess of Wales--while they had a shared history with the Dutch for centuries and were still regarded as "immigrants"? Six years after the wedding between Willem Alexander and Maxima was conducted in De Nieuwe Kerk, the long presence of blacks in the Netherlands and in Netherlandish art is celebrated in the same church. It goes without saying that such a location is a recognition of black presence.

But an achievement at what expense? The title, to start with, is a travesty. Far from a rallying call to raise consciousness, the exhibition did not politicize the representation of blacks. To the contrary, the exhibition almost suggested that blacks have always been portrayed in a benevolent way. The curator even decided to exclude portraits that depict blacks as devils and racial caricatures. Walking through the exhibition, one understands how such a selection made it possible to tell a positive story. The hotchpotch of paintings is presented under themes such as "Strong Men" and "Wise Women" Black is not merely beautiful, we learn. But as the text panels under "Proud Slaves" and "Showpiece Pages" tell us, blacks were often included for iconographic or stylistic reasons to make white women--the owners of black servants--look all the whiter. And the portraits of blacks, even if rendered from life, were often enough not intended as portraits but as types. Maarten de Vos's Adoration of the Magi (ca. 1599) portrays an amazingly beautiful black king, whose exuberant blackness commands the viewer's attention rather than the King of Israel himself. But strangely enough, the caption tells us that "the color black probably stands for constancy and immutability, so the figure may be an allusion to the steadfast Catholic faith" A beautiful black, but not beautiful because of his blackness ...

There are many more paintings and captions that demonstrate that an exhibition on blacks in high art, even when ostensibly celebrating blackness, requires proper contextualization. It is precisely this contextualization that is lacking. The art works on display are simply lifted from their historical contexts, placed in striking, but historically haphazard juxtapositions. There is simply not enough of a story to make sense of these outstanding works of art. Moreover, the exhibition tells a tacit narrative which is objectionable, but never made explict. While we never learn what was wrong with blackness--and a curse it was, one that virtually condemned its owner to pagan superstition, slavery, and the mark of one's owner--the panel that introduces the section on the modern world presents this world as liberating:

   Cubism, surrealism, expressionism. New art movements
   jostled for position immediately after the First World
   War. These were revolutionary times for artists. African
   art was hot and a huge influence on this work. Jazz
   developed into a craze and hip women danced in clubs
   with dark-skinned men.

The modern era is presented as one that breaks with previous conventions, but how welcoming was this world for blacks? Emancipation was apparently to be found in dancing with "hip white women" ... Surely negrophilia did not end racism?

In that respect the inclusion of works by contemporary Dutch black artists of Surinamese background is felicitous. These artists provide critical reflection on color. Remy Jungerman's Bakru (2007) is an intriguing installation piece that incorporates a white gnome with a black mask. This piece draws attention to a theme that runs throughout the exhibition: the masquerading of whites as blacks, and vice versa. Throughout the period under consideration the masquerading of whites as blacks and blacks as whites is a well-developed theme that deserves further examination. Since the theme runs through this exhibition, one would have expected some sustained attention to this matter. Cinderella's foot, as depicted in Ina van Zyl's Cinderalla (200l), is not accidentally brown, as caption and catalogue want us to believe. Here, the painting's critical stance is deliberately ignored.

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Blacks have been present in the Netherlands for much longer than previously acknowledged. This exhibition demonstrates that Dutch artists represented blacks ever since their arrival in the Netherlands, not only in subordinate positions, but also in those elevated positions of kings, ambassadors, and men of learning. This is a major achievement. However, in its ambition to demonstrate black presence, it fails to present many of the works included in the show as problematic. The exhibition frames the history of blacks in Dutch art as one that is changing--although we do not learn how--and changing for the better: In the end we are redeemed by modernity. Such a storyline is both naive and incomplete. It is, moreover, a storyline that is precipitous in its conclusion. Black models still hardly ever make the cover of magazines. If this exhibition gives pride of place to Dumas's rendering of Naomi Campbell (The Supermodel), she has had to occupy the cover of Vogue for this to become possible. Yet it remains to be seen whether Vogue will continue to show blacks on its cover. It is all good and well to celebrate black presence, but a critical engagement with black absence remains required.

The catalogue, Black is Beautiful: Rubens to Dumas (Amsterdam/Zwolle: De Nieuwe Kerk and Waanders Publishers) is available for 37.95 [euro] cloth / 29.95 [euro] paper, from ACC Publishing Group.

FERDINAND DE JONG is lecturer in anthropology at the School of World Art Studies and Museology of the University of East Anglia, where he teaches the anthropology of art, material culture, and heritage. He is currently working on a monograph provisionally titled Remembering the Nation: Heritage/Memory in Postcolonial Senegal. [e-mail]