DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.68073#0292
266
OLD WORLD MASTERS
PHILIP IV OF SPAIN.
Velasquez Collection of the late
{1599-1660). Mr. Henry Clay Frick.
This portrait known as the “Parma Velasquez,” because it belonged
to the Grand Duke of Parma, is painted in oils on canvas (38^4 x 52 J4
inches). It was painted in 1644 in Cataluna, where Philip had gone
to try to raise the siege of Lerida invested by the French. Velasquez
went with the King and painted the picture in a dilapidated hovel,
which was fitted up for the purpose of a studio. A contemporary
record says: “The King dressed as a soldier posed to Velasquez in
fitted hose edged with silver embroidery, sleeves of same, plain buck
jerkin, red sash edged with silver, cape of red fustian, falling collar,
and black sombrero with crimson plumes.”
The King was kept amused by his dwarf, El Primo, while the por-
trait was being painted. The costume is the one that Philip usually
appeared in before his army as commander-in-chief.
“From the figure itself,” says Carl Justi, “it is evident that it was
taken far from the atmosphere of the Alcazar. It is freer than those
tall figures in black, which are perpetually receiving despatches; and
which are the incarnation of unrelenting monotony, of the weariness
of etiquette. To this effect the color contributes much, for the pic-
ture is all light and brightness. The legs seem to stand in profile, but
the body and head face to the right; the white baton in the right
hand is planted against the hip; the elbow of the left which holds
the hat, rests on the hilt of the sword, and, curiously enough, both
arms are disposed in a somewhat parallel position. The lines of the
King’s features, now in his thirty-ninth year, are firmer, the color
fresher than hitherto. The otherwise inseparable golilla is here replaced
by a broad lace collar falling on the shoulders; the hands are white
in unison with the white sleeves, the most luminous parts of the
whole picture—well nurtured, royal hands, ringless, but by no means
‘washed out,’ as has been supposed by those unacquainted with
the master’s habit of dispensing with shade to indicate the fingers.
“Philip wears a rich, light red doublet with hanging sleeves, the
OLD WORLD MASTERS
PHILIP IV OF SPAIN.
Velasquez Collection of the late
{1599-1660). Mr. Henry Clay Frick.
This portrait known as the “Parma Velasquez,” because it belonged
to the Grand Duke of Parma, is painted in oils on canvas (38^4 x 52 J4
inches). It was painted in 1644 in Cataluna, where Philip had gone
to try to raise the siege of Lerida invested by the French. Velasquez
went with the King and painted the picture in a dilapidated hovel,
which was fitted up for the purpose of a studio. A contemporary
record says: “The King dressed as a soldier posed to Velasquez in
fitted hose edged with silver embroidery, sleeves of same, plain buck
jerkin, red sash edged with silver, cape of red fustian, falling collar,
and black sombrero with crimson plumes.”
The King was kept amused by his dwarf, El Primo, while the por-
trait was being painted. The costume is the one that Philip usually
appeared in before his army as commander-in-chief.
“From the figure itself,” says Carl Justi, “it is evident that it was
taken far from the atmosphere of the Alcazar. It is freer than those
tall figures in black, which are perpetually receiving despatches; and
which are the incarnation of unrelenting monotony, of the weariness
of etiquette. To this effect the color contributes much, for the pic-
ture is all light and brightness. The legs seem to stand in profile, but
the body and head face to the right; the white baton in the right
hand is planted against the hip; the elbow of the left which holds
the hat, rests on the hilt of the sword, and, curiously enough, both
arms are disposed in a somewhat parallel position. The lines of the
King’s features, now in his thirty-ninth year, are firmer, the color
fresher than hitherto. The otherwise inseparable golilla is here replaced
by a broad lace collar falling on the shoulders; the hands are white
in unison with the white sleeves, the most luminous parts of the
whole picture—well nurtured, royal hands, ringless, but by no means
‘washed out,’ as has been supposed by those unacquainted with
the master’s habit of dispensing with shade to indicate the fingers.
“Philip wears a rich, light red doublet with hanging sleeves, the