19. Karel du Jardin

Sun-drenched southern landscapes became the trademark of a great many seventeenth-century artists from the Low Countries, Karel du Jardin among them. Enchanted by this warm light, he – and others such as Pieter van Laer (1599-after 1642) and Nicolaes Berchem (1620-1683) – endeavoured to capture this sunshine in etchings. And he succeeded fully. The ‘pastoral’ mood, with rolling hills and cattle, predominates in the fifty-two prints we know of by him. Grey Dutch skies are nowhere to be seen, even though the prints were probably all created between 1652 and 1660 when the artist was living in The Hague and in Amsterdam.¹ It is conceivable that Du Jardin had not even been to Italy at that time.² However, it is also possible that he visited Italy twice; we know for certain that he lived in Rome in 1675,³ when he was given the nickname Bokkebaard (Goat-Beard) by the Bentvueghels.

In this etching, for a change, the landscape was moved to the middle ground. All that can be seen in the background are the façades of two houses. The work centres on a boy playing a violin and three dogs. The atmosphere is Mediterranean, and Du Jardin was clearly concerned with suggesting light and space. By leaving some parts of his etching plate unworked, it is as if the warm sunlight is shining brightly there. The shadows are not uniform, but diffuse areas – with this Du Jardin gives the impression that they are also affected by the sun’s blaze. All in all, the etching lines can be described as ‘thready’, as if the artist was looking for a way not only to depict the (visible) strong light, but also to give an idea of the (perceptible) warmth: the air which vibrates in the heat.

In the reference works by Bartsch and Dutuit this little violin-player is titled Savoyard. Its origins probably lie in eighteenth-century France, where men and boys from the Savoy region—where the cold winter months largely brought work to a standstill—went to Paris and other large towns. There they could work as chimney sweeps, or earn a living by performing in the streets.⁴ The sound of the violin and the dancing dog would certainly have attracted passers-by, who would have tossed him some small change. The meaning Du Jardin had given the print almost a century earlier was no longer recognized. The artist himself was only partly concerned with the entertainment value of the scene; by using the well-trained dog he wanted above all to emphasize its leersucht (desire to learn). The dog served as a metaphor, which Du Jardin further clarified by including the two badly behaved animals that were still untrained.⁵

MvS