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Waldemar Januszczak argues that art was one thing before him β and another thing after. Coming to clear conclusions about Rubens is a challenge.
He was many things: so many, that not all of his aspects are easy to admire. Take his women. Not to be too polite about it β because politeness is not an obviously Rubensian quality β his women are usually thought too fat. In our world, we admire size 6, but not size Kate Moss? Well, she would have been the paintbrush. Yes, the mermaids who greet her when she arrives in Marseilles to marry Henry IV of France are sizeable and solid β built for underwater survival β but Marie herself is slight.
At the beginning of the cycle, she is downright willowy. And when Rubens painted his first wife, the enchanting Isabella Brant, sitting under the honeysuckle bower with him in their lovey-dovey wedding portrait of , is she fat? Not at all. My point is: Rubens could do it all. He could do fat, he could do thin. He could do noisy, he could do silent.
He painted landscapes, portraits, altarpieces, mythologies, gentle scenes of love and violent scenes of hate. For me, he was the greatest of all painters of physical action. But I would also dub him a master of stillness and poetic tranquility. He invented the disaster movie; the cast of thousands; the gory fight-sequence. But he also gives us moments of romantic hesitancy worthy of Hugh Grant himself. All this is impressive. But it is also confusing.
Having spent the past year making a film about Rubens, just about the only thing I can pass on to you with cast-iron certainty is that he divides opinion. And we are not talking here about small shifts in attitude or differently nuanced interpretation.