Rubens, portrait of Anna Anthonis, c1615-18. Pious, yes, but what a face Rubens has captured! |
What can we say about Antwerp? Its history is tightly linked to the Scheldt. Antwerp is a great natural port, since it provides safe anchorage, being a long way inland from the sea. Although the Scheldt is still tidal at Antwerp, which means locks are required, Antwerp also has container terminals with direct access to the sea without locks (which must be similar to the situation at Felixstowe in the UK). But the Scheldt hasn’t always been accessible to ships. Is this the cause of Antwerp’s rise and fall?
Michael Pye’s recent book, Antwerp: The Glory Years covers the 16th century , when Antwerp flourished as never before. This weekend I am visiting Antwerp, but I don’t get the impression of a 16th-century city. In many respects, the visible golden age appears to be the 17th century: a hundred years later. Is this simply my misreading?
Let’s glance at the history books. Few cities can have had experienced such about-turns as Antwerp. It reached a peak of success during the first half of the 16th century; it was responsible for 75% of all Low Countries trade in 1549. Yet in 1576, Spanish troops mutinied and killed some 8,000 citizens. Then in 1585 the Spanish recaptured Antwerp and incorporated it into the Spanish Netherlands. Protestants were given four years to convert or leave, and around half the population left. Hence a population decline from a peak of around 100,000 down to 49,000 at the end of the century.
As if this wasn’t enough, in 1648, under the Treaty of
Westphalia, the Scheldt, the river by which Antwerp traded with the world, was
closed to all non-Dutch ships. This catastrophe ruined the port, until under Napoleon,
150 years later, the port was reopened, and by the mid-19th century
Antwerp was the world’s third largest port. Even today is it second only to Rotterdam
in Europe.
How does this compare with artistic achievement? Antwerp is exceptionally good for museums relating the city with its inhabitants; the Rubens House is a great example. One of the best museums is the Plantin Museum. Christophe Plantin created one of the biggest printers and publishers in Europe. He founded the company in Antwerp in 1548, and within a year (if you believe Wikipedia) “he headed one of the most well-respected publishing houses in Europe” (whatever that means). His greatest achievement was a multi-volume Bible, the Biblia Sacra or Biblia Regia, published 1568-73. However, the publishing company appears to have continued to grow thrive for over a hundred years after that.
Rubens, 1577-1640, the greatest Antwerp painter and one of the most famous painters of all time, lived in Antwerp for most of his life, and (together with his vast studio team) produced some 1,400 works, excluding copies! This sounds like success, by any measure.
While the Rubens House was closed for this visit, we visited
another stunning collection of 17th-century work, the Snijders and
Rockox House, actually two houses next to each other, celebrating an artist and
a politician who both flourished in the first half of the 17th
century. Incidentally, this museum was a model of how to display a small
collection effectively.
But the evidence above leaves me wanting to know more. For example: much of the success of the Netherlands following independence has been attributed to its religious tolerance. But is it as simple as that? Has the link between Protestantism and economic growth, as formulated by Weber a hundred or more years ago, been overstated? Was it possible for a city to be Catholic yet progressive? Antwerp has vast, bloated, Baroque churches, and Catholicism is still very noticeable in the historic centre: there is a statue of the Virgin or a saint looking down at you from most street corners. How was it possible, or was it indeed possible, for great art to flourish in a Counter-Reformation climate?
All this requires more investigation, but, sadly, I don’t think
Michael Pye’s Antwerp: The Glory Years is likely to give me the answer I
am looking for. I haven’t got the patience to extricate a coherent story from
Pye’s account. After 20 pages I had to look to other sources to find out what
was going on. The journalistic style meant that every major event was
introduced by looking at an individual, and only slowly revealing the event
being described. It’s a time-honoured journalistic trick, which becomes annoying
when you are trying to find out what happened. My response is to skip a paragraph
or two to see if the author reveals what the subject really is, later on – a risky
technique. So answers to the question of Antwerp’s rise and fall will take a
few days longer.
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