Exhibit of the week: Rembrandt and the Face of Jesus

This show gives viewers the opportunity to see all of Rembrandt’s known paintings and portraits of Jesus for the first time since the 1650s, when the Rembrandt declared bankruptcy.

Philadelphia Museum of Art

Through Oct. 30

Subscribe to The Week

Escape your echo chamber. Get the facts behind the news, plus analysis from multiple perspectives.

SUBSCRIBE & SAVE
https://cdn.mos.cms.futurecdn.net/flexiimages/jacafc5zvs1692883516.jpg

Sign up for The Week's Free Newsletters

From our morning news briefing to a weekly Good News Newsletter, get the best of The Week delivered directly to your inbox.

From our morning news briefing to a weekly Good News Newsletter, get the best of The Week delivered directly to your inbox.

Sign up

As you might expect, said Stephan Salisbury in The Philadelphia Inquirer, “the new Jesus did not sit well with many people at the time.” Jews were seen as heathens, and depicting Christ as a heathen was blasphemous. Even Rembrandt’s students were loath to rock the boat, and some reverted quickly to the “sheaves of sandy hair,” the thin lips, and the “capacious round brow” that Byzantine icons had made de rigueur. This show, which began its world tour earlier this year at the Louvre, represents the world’s first opportunity to view all of Rembrandt’s known images of Jesus together since the 1650s, when the artist declared bankruptcy and “many of his precious possessions were sold to satisfy creditors.” To support the notion that Rembrandt purposefully depicted the founder of Christianity as ethnically Jewish, the exhibit displays his Jesus paintings and prints alongside other portraits he created that have been thought to depict Jews.

Too bad there’s not a shred of hard evidence that Rembrandt truly did use a Jewish model for his Jesus portraits, said Robin Cembalest in TabletMag.org. For some reason, art historians have long sentimentalized Rembrandt’s supposed pro-Semitic tendencies. Tome after scholarly tome has obsessively parsed the artist’s ethnic lineage, his reasons for moving to a Jewish neighborhood, his relationship with Rabbi Menasseh ben Israel—“whose book Rembrandt might have illustrated, whose portrait he may or may not have painted, and who possibly helped with the Aramaic inscription in the artist’s famous Belshazzar’s Feast.” Reading every “soulful, bearded” man in a Rembrandt painting as “crypto-Jewish” propaganda does the Dutch master a disservice. Maybe—just maybe—they’re simply naturalistic depictions of soulful, bearded men.