Home > Writing > The Question of Influence - Rembrandt: Belshazzar's Feast

Rembrandt van Rijn
The Feast of Belshazzar
c. 1635
Oil on canvas
167 x 209 cm
National Gallery, London

In Belshazzar's Feast, Rembrandt graphically interprets a scene from the Old Testament Book of Daniel (5:1-6; 25-28): The story tells of the blasphemy of Babylonian King Belshazzar who gave a banquet for his noblemen, serving wine in sacred artefacts stolen from the Temple of Jerusalem. At the feast, a heavenly hand appeared to write a message of doom upon the wall, which only the wise prophet Daniel was able to decipher, correctly predicting Belshazzar's murder later that evening. Drawing upon a classical tale, rich in allegory and imagery, it is fascinating to observe the sources Rembrandt calls upon to infuse his work with originality and dynamism.

Aesthetically, one can observe a number of details suggesting the influence of Caravaggio, in particular, especially in the use of light and chiaroscuro: Some critics have even gone so far as to say that the figures in the lower-left corner are "bathed in a Caravaggeseque light." The drama of the scene also seems reminiscent of Caravaggio too, particularly the dynamic, kinetic elements as the liquid spilling down from the goblet, along with the consciously theatrical qualities of the tableau and the extreme lighting effects used, particularly on a central figure.

Similarly, the composition is apparently at least partially derived from other works, including in Rembrandt's own Sacrifice of Isaac, with the figures recalling those of Paolo Veronese's Rape of Europa. The former influence is particularly significant, as it is a religiously-based work, suggesting that Rembrandt was attempting to distil his own particular form of compositional approach for these genre works, which would give the piece a validity beyond its disparate influences.

Elsewhere, Rembrandt seems to have avowedly pursued his own idiosyncratic style within his painting, eschewing the previous Renaissance and Mannerist conventions for reinterpreting Biblical tales in either classical or contemporary settings, instead creating a curiously haphazard medley of visual influences. These are employed to create a sense of metaphor that excuses their somewhat contradictory origins.

For example, while choosing not to evoke the contemporary Biblical pastiches of the High Renaissance, he does draw upon modern influences, but uses them in a way that enhances both the primary sources for the painting, and its underlying moral concerns. For example, accuracy is not highly valued in the work: the plumed and pearl-strung revellers are notably anachronistic, yet serve a valuable function as an overt expression of the decadence of the court. The apparent High Renaissance aesthetics of the cowering court may event tacitly suggest Rembrandt's own distaste for such iconography, as the figures in the finished work invert the traditional images in High Renaissance works: Far from being resplendent, they are displayed as impotent creatures, cowering and pathetic. This would suggest that Rembrandt is attempting to infuse the work with a conscience of its own, achieved though the subversion of this visual influence. This new context arguably succeeds in giving the work both visual richness and a strong sense of social awareness, one which elevates the work beyond pastiche or reinterpretation.

One could also suggest that, while Rembrandt is interested in using factual research to add clarity to his work, he is apparently only interested in doing so when the iconography derived serves to inform its audience and add to the message of a very narrative painting. For example, the Hebrew text written on the wall is accurately researched, as is the hand's position in relation to it, suggesting that the text has been written from right-to-left. Fascinatingly, Rembrandt seems to have reviewed and scrutinised his subject matter at length, researching the solution to the problem of explaining how the text is indecipherable to all but Daniel. For this, he appears to have drawn upon the influence of a local rabbi and printer, Menasseh ben Israel, who provided esoteric Hebrew text, written in an unconventional vertical form. In doing so, the iconography of the picture takes on a greater importance, adding exposition and plausibility to the bare bones of the original text.

However, certain elements of the source material are deliberately not retained. Instead of featuring Belshazzar drinking before "a thousand of his lords", the composition pares the scene down to just five revellers and the monarch himself, which can be read as either an conscious deviation employed to strengthen the impact of the composition, or an effective 'cropping' of a broader tableau, again done to strengthen the narrative impact. Both are intriguingly plausible possibilities, especially when one considers the cramped nature of the figures seen. This exercise in free visual adaptation advances the argument that Rembrandt is consciously recreating and reinterpreting his subject matter for a visual medium, in this case paring the work down to its fundamental narrative elements.

Elsewhere, the source material seems to inform Rembrandt's stylistic approach, as Simon Schama notes:

Rembrandt has gone all out to suggest the perishability of things: precious metals, the pleasures of appetite, the longevity of empires." In this sense, Rembrandt uses traditional iconography to subtly link the themes of entropy and decadence, with the overripe grapes and figs seen on the table eloquently underlining these themes, along with the ungainly, figures of the court, heavily weighed down and frozen in clumsy recoil from simple shape of the divine hand, enhancing the parable's fundamental moral agenda...

Once notable, yet understated influence in the painting is a social one; namely, that of ethnicity. Unlike other areas of Europe, the Jews enjoyed relative freedom in Rembrandt's native Amsterdam during his life, and by referring his other Biblical works; it seems apparent that he referred to Jewish models regularly in his Biblical painting. These apparent links with the Jewish community are supported by the source of the hand's text in the picture. The result of this influence is arguably quietly revolutionary: The figures in the painting, particularly Belshazzar himself, do not display the facial qualities in many comparable paintings of the same period, instead showing distinctly Jewish features. While the 'props' of the scene are not accurate, the use of models specific to the ethnic origins of the source material is unusual and gives the scene a valuable cultural accuracy which should not be underestimated.

Ultimately, Belshazzar's Feast succeeds as an effective distillation of an entire narrative into a single dynamic moment, which manages to reinterpret the key elements of the narrative in a single compelling image. On one level, Rembrandt's is an idiosyncratic work, mixing slavish research and ethnical accuracy with conflicting elements of anachronism, employed almost to the point of parody. However, on a broader level, the work is to be appreciated for unifying so many disparate influences, and for using them to make effective commentary on both its source material and the society that forms its audience.

Bibliography
Christopher Brow, Jan Keich and Pieter van Thiel, Rembrandt: The Master and his Workshop (Yale University Press, 1992)
Simon Schama, Rembrandt's Eyes (Knopf Books, 1999)