Schwartze shows that people always betray their personalities more than they might think

The first thing I thought when I walked up to this painting was: she reminds me of Marieke Lucas Rijneveld. Was it the inward gaze? Rijneveld has that look, not only in photos but also in real life, it is not a pose. When I – the writer let us know this week – change pronouns from she/her to he/him – once saw in a company I thought how remarkable it is that your face seems to betray that you don’t really feel at home in your surroundings, but also don’t want to be a burden to anyone. It’s not hostility or position, it’s a kind of discomfort, perhaps combined with an inner world that’s constantly on. I especially thought it was a beautiful view, also here. Melancholy framed with golden curls.

Or was it because of this girl’s regional attire? That would be strange, Rijneveld is not pregnant. Yet it is funny: this child comes from Oud-Beijerland, in the Hoeksche Waard, not very far from the village of Nieuwendijk where Rijneveld grew up. The atmosphere in his books is not very far away. Of course, Rijneveld does not wear regional clothes, but he did walk into the public world in a standard costume: white shirt, black suspenders or tie. That consistency made an impression. He presented himself recognizable and with a defined style. Anyway: they coincided for a while, in the charming house museum Paul Tetar in Delft, where fifty paintings by Thérèse Schwartze can be seen thanks to guest curator Cora Hollema, who has been researching Schwartze’s work for years.

Schwartze is so good at that: capturing people in their character. Sometimes it’s like people got caught up in who they really are. Schwartze was a high society painter and was very successful. She always breaks through the rules of the portrait a bit. As with a big family with four daughters and a little boy two of the sisters cling to each other familiar-bored and secretly between the white skirts they can be seen holding hands, as young girls can. Or if they princess Juliana as a baby and the determination of the future queen is already visible: in the baby’s gaze and the way she grabs her doll by the head. In short, Schwartze shows in her portraits that people always betray their personality a little more than they might think.

It was actually the golden curls that drew me to choose this detail, perhaps the combination of that rich piece of jewelry and the girl’s inward gaze. Most women in costume are proud and proud in portraits, here the luxurious ‘curly-haired sparrow’ with pendants is a contrast, and I find that somehow very Dutch. No fuss. Whoever you see that with is Rembrandt’s Catrina Hooghsaet: enormous luxury, with a lace cap and earrings, and then such a thoughtful, almost lonely look. Hear the curls during the pregnancy in the Hoeksche Waard and were worn lower in the 19th century than later. It is striking that most women in the 20th century wore a black suit, but at this time it was customary here to wear very colorful skirts and jackets with the curly-haired sparrow. I have a weakness for regional wear: the care and durability, and the calm consistency with which it was worn and handed over. Not time sensitive, but pronounced.