CODART, Dutch and Flemish art in museums worldwide

Climate change and the decline of biodiversity are pressing issues that capture the imagination of a broad audience, regardless of one’s beliefs on the matter. These themes are no longer confined to natural history and science museums but are increasingly finding a place in exhibitions centered on old masters. But how do you weave these contemporary and often sensitive subjects into an exhibition? How does a curator connect the harsh winters depicted by Hendrick Avercamp with the global warming we face four centuries later? Or link the fascination with insects in the early modern period to the current decline in biodiversity caused by climate issues and pesticide use? How can these exhibitions be created without coming across as too forced or didactic?

CODART asked two curators to reflect on these questions and share their experiences in creating an exhibition of early modern art that integrates contemporary themes. Which choices were made, and how was a balance achieved between the chosen narrative and the integration of these themes?

– Ingmar Reesing, CODARTfeatures editor

The Past Is Prologue

Stephanie Schrader, Curator of Drawing, J. Paul Getty Museum, Los Angeles

A couple in tattered attire stride ahead with baskets and bundles, a man sits to adjust his skates as a dog runs to greet him, and in between them citizens move about on the frozen river (fig. 1). The 1624 watercolor by Hendrick Avercamp appears idyllic, but it reflects a colder reality that greatly impacted Dutch citizens. In genre scenes like this one by Avercamp, seventeenth century Dutch artists brought to light a period of climate change that scientists now call the Little Ice Age to characterize longer, harsher winters from 1300 to 1850. Climate historians consider many factors that could have caused the Little Ice Age, including increased volcanic activity, changing ocean currents and wind patterns, and cyclical shifts in the Earth’s orbit. While there are several theories about what created global cooling, there is certainty that the years 1607–8 and 1620–21 were some of the coldest winters on record in the Netherlands. Snow fell more abundantly, and rivers and seaports remained frozen until spring. As astute observers and critics of their time, Dutch artists in the 1600s underscored the vulnerability that resulted from climate change.

The Dutch responded creatively and effectively to spells of frosty, gusty, dangerous weather. Artists like Avercamp showcased the need for adaptation in their winter landscapes that depict traversal of people and goods from one place to another on ice skates, ice carts, and ice yachts. This sense of movement is often met with impediments as people slip, boats freeze in the ice, and large holes for ice fishing create danger. These hardships appear alongside newly invented activities—games of kolf (a mix between golf and croquet on the ice) and makeshift taverns serving warm drinks. No detail was too small for Dutch artists to consider—the muffs and face masks worn by wealthy women to keep warm, the begging of displaced people, the blustery winds that made clouds and flags billow, and the lack of undergarments exposed when people tumbled. These compelling details made winter landscapes all the more desirable for Dutch citizens to purchase and contemplate.

With the generous support of loans from a private collector in Amsterdam, I conceived of an exhibition at the Getty Museum that introduced visitors to seventeenth century Dutch landscapes that depict extreme climate conditions and the subsequent adaptation of human behavior. Although the paintings and drawings on display featured a period of cooling that is in great contrast to our current higher temperatures, drought, and wildfires in Southern California, the stories of vulnerability, technological and policy innovation, dependence on communal efforts, and the need for joy and fun even in hard times are timeless. To better connect the past with the present, I wrote an introductory panel that asked visitors to consider how seventeenth century Dutch depictions of extreme weather offered us opportunities to reflect on our current environmental crises. I also invited the Head of Sustainability at Getty, Camille Kirk, to compose a text panel about art and sustainability. Camille’s text explained what Getty is currently doing to reduce our environmental impact by switching to electric vehicles and landscaping equipment, developing renewable resources in our region, and decarbonizing our district-heating infrastructure. Both Camille and I gave public tours of the exhibition. In addition, I invited three scholars of seventeenth century Dutch art to draw upon artworks in the exhibition and give short papers at a panel discussion entitled Frozen in Time: The Politics of 17^th-Century Dutch Landscapes on July 28th. The panel was open to the public as well as being offered on Zoom. The three speakers, Isabella Lores-Chavez, Alec Aldrich, and Sarah Mallory, addressed politics and Dutch identity, land reclamation and its erasure, and quotidian labors in the watery muck respectively. All of these efforts were successful in bringing vast numbers of visitors to the exhibition.

Not only did I see parallels between extreme weather conditions of the past and present, I also thought Avercamp, a non-verbal and most likely prelingually deaf (a person who does not develop speech because they grew up without the ability to hear), would be of interest to our visitors. Identified by his contemporaries as the “mute of Kampen” (de Stomme van Kampen), Avercamp not only foregrounded depictions of winter, but he also honed a remarkable ability to depict marginal figures who seem to stand apart and observe (fig. 2). Avercamp masterfully harnessed the harshness of winter into a spectacle of human activity in all its many forms, as wild and ever-changing as the weather.

On Thin Ice: Dutch Depictions of Extreme Weather was on view from May 28 to September 1, 2024, and a record-breaking number of people visited the exhibition—257,160. Like Dutch landscapes remind us, the road to progress is a slippery one—full of obstacles—but for us to move forward and remain productive in face of climate change we too must adapt. As we flail and fall like the ice skater in an illustrated book from 1669, we too must have the courage not to give up (fig. 3).

Crawly Creatures and the Changing Perceptions of the Living World

Julia Kantelberg, Exhibition Curator, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam

The exhibition Crawly Creatures was on show in the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam from September 2022 until January 2023. The exhibition centered around small animals that have often been perceived as ‘creepy crawlies’ such as lizards, toads, spiders, beetles, ants and caterpillars. The way they have been valued has changed drastically over time, as well as the way they have been depicted and researched in art and science. Starting in the Middle Ages, the exhibition showed the ever-changing perception and imagination of these animals throughout the ages up to the present day.

Working as assistant-curator next to main curator Jan de Hond, I was mostly concerned with the curation of the contemporary art and public programming. Having a background in critical studies in arts and culture and environmental ethics, I am interested in how art both reflects and influences human perspectives on the living world. Both in the contemporary art and public programming of Crawly Creatures, lines were drawn between present-day environmental issues and historical developments. We organized, for instance, an event on biodiversity together with the Dutch Young Climate Movement, the United Nations Youth Representatives and the Dutch National ThinkTank. During this event, various youth representatives shared their ideas and visions for the future, while making connections with historical shifts in perception and valuation of the living world. As the exhibition focussed on the relationship between art and science in the early modern period, it thus also gave rise to talk about the major changes that are taking place today in how we perceive and value other lifeforms.

The exhibition showed that for a long time, ‘crawly creatures’ were viewed in an unfavorable light. In the Middle Ages they were associated with the devil, death, and sins. It was thought that they developed spontaneously from non-living matter such as mud, rotting plant remains or dead bodies of animals. Because of their alleged ‘spontaneous generation’, these creatures were considered ‘lesser’ species. However, their reputation improved in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries when they became the subject of genuine interest. The earliest known drawing with an insect as the main subject is Albrecht Dürer’s Stag beetle from 1505 (fig. 4). From that age onwards, these creatures increasingly appeared in works of art, ended up in collectors’ cabinets and were subjected to scientific research. It was precisely in the smallest of creatures that the grandeur of God’s creation was best revealed, or so it was thought. It was not until the late seventeenth century that scientists proved that these small creatures did not develop from non-living matter, but that they were simply born from an egg – just like other animals.

In the seventeenth century, cabinets of naturalia could be found all over Europe, and especially in the Netherlands because of its colonial network. Henricus D’Acquet, the burgomaster of Delft, gathered a huge collection of naturalia, mostly of insects, which he had recorded in over a thousand drawings (fig. 5). At the time, these animals were not only collected, but also bred, studied and recorded. Scientists investigated their procreation and lifecycle. Both artists and scientists were specialists in observing and recording nature. Personal observation had become just as important as book learning and new knowledge was disseminated through images.

An extraordinary artist and researcher was Maria Sibylla Merian. She had an exceptional eye for the beauty of insects, which she captured in detailed drawings. Her most important work was made after a trip to Surinam, where she studied the metamorphosis of insects. What makes her work so special is that she depicted insects in their natural habitat. In comparison to contemporaries who studied and depicted specimen in isolation and taken from their natural context, like D’Acquet did, Merian represented the ecological relationships between plants and animals: she depicted interwoven life. In her drawing, the different stages of the life of a butterfly are depicted as well as the host plant and the transformation of the plant itself (fig. 6). Even the little bites in the leaves are visible, making it a very lively composition.

What is even more special, is that Merian gave attention to behavior and symbiosis long before the concept of ‘ecosystems’, the theory of ‘evolution’ or the study of ‘ecology’ were introduced. Merian studied and depicted interactions between species and lifeforms almost a century before Alexander von Humboldt described nature as a complex and interconnected system. That is why Merian’s depictions of ecosystems are incredibly progressive for her time and why she is called the first ecologist.

In recent decades, the appreciation for other lifeforms has taken a new turn. There is a growing realization that precisely ‘crawly creatures’ are essential for the survival of all living things. The dominant position of humans is increasingly being questioned – not only in science, but also in art. The work of contemporary artist Tomás Saraceno critically examines the relations between humans and other lifeforms and his work invites us to explore new forms of coexistence with spiders, other invertebrates, and the ‘web of life’ we inhabit with them. The artwork exhibited consisted of real spider webs, woven by different spider species in an open frame, showing how beautiful, seemingly fragile and yet strong these webs are, and how the threads are linked in an infinite network of connections – just like ecosystems (fig. 7).

The initial idea for the Crawly Creatures exhibition derived from a fascination for the relationship between art and science in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, but soon we realized that recent scientific and artistic developments concerning environmental issues are connected to this history and deserve a place within the story. By showing how scientific and artistic shifts have influenced the way in which other animals have been perceived and imagined, the exhibition provided a historical overview without ‘imposing’ contemporary issues onto historical objects. This choice was made because terms such as biodiversity, and its relating concerns, did not yet exist in the early modern period as we know them today. However, the line from Merian’s work to that of Saraceno does show an interesting connection, namely that the attention and wonder for the interconnectedness of all life forms (what is now called ecology) was already seen and appreciated by pioneers such as Merian. Thus the historical artworks did give rise to drawing meaningful lines between artists who have been attentive to other lifeforms throughout the ages, and showed that it is part of a long history of the ever changing valuation of the living world.