One Hour at The Rijksmuseum

MUSEUM GUIDE | CABANA TRAVEL | CABANA MAGAZINE

In this series, we travel the world's great museums through the eyes and minds of selected curators, asking just one question: if you only had an hour to spare, what would you see? This week, Tamar van Riessen talks Emma Becque through six of the Rijksmuseum’s most notable objects.

INTERVIEW BY EMMA BECQUE | CABANA TRAVEL | 04 OCTOBER 2024

A cornerstone of Dutch culture, the Rijksmuseum tells the story of 800 years of Dutch history © The Rijksmuseum

Specializing in 17th-century Dutch paintings, Tamar van Riessen, a curator at the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam, oversees one of the world's most renowned collections of Dutch Golden Age art. A cornerstone of Dutch culture, the Rijks tells the story of 800 years of Dutch history, focusing on art from the 1200s to the present day.

Tamar shares with Cabana six of her favorite masterpieces from the museum's permanent collection, and explains why no visitor should pass them by.

The Threatened Swan, Jan Asselijn, c. 1650

The Threatened Swan, Jan Asselijn, c. 1650 © The Rijksmuseum


When I visited the Rijksmuseum as a student, it inspired me to pursue a career as a curator. Now, 10 years later, I've achieved that dream. Thanks to its remarkable symbolism, this work was one of the first acquired by the Rijks in the early 1800s.

At first glance, the scene shows a swan feeling threatened as it defends its eggs from an approaching dog. But if you look more closely, you'll find three inscriptions with deeper meanings. The word "Raadpensionaren" identifies the swan as a counsellor. The dog is labelled "Vijand van de Staat," or enemy of the state, and the eggs represent Holland, referring to Johan de Witt, a key political figure in the 17th century. These inscriptions symbolise de Witt's role in protecting the state from its enemies. Interestingly, the artist, Jan Asselijn, died in 1652 before de Witt came to power. The inscriptions were added in the 18th century, which makes it fascinating that these later additions played a role in the painting's eventual purchase.

Woman Reading a Letter, Johannes Vermeer, c.1663

Woman Reading a Letter, Johannes Vermeer, c. 1663. On loan from the City of Amsterdam (A. van der Hoop Bequest) © The Rijksmuseum

The museum holds four Vermeers, but Woman Reading a Letter, on loan from the City of Amsterdam (A. van der Hoop Bequest), was the first to enter the collection in 1885, five years after The Threatened Swan. For me, it stands out due to its calm and serene atmosphere, which contrasts with the more dynamic energy of The Milkmaid, for example. In Woman Reading a Letter, a solitary figure reads quietly in a nearly empty room. The contents remain a mystery; whether it's a business letter, a love letter, or a message from family, the ambiguity adds a layer of intrigue.

Vermeer's use of blue is striking, achieved through the rare and expensive pigment, lapis lazuli. Despite his limited financial means, Vermeer used this costly material in many of his works, which speaks to his dedication to detail and craftsmanship. The map in the background, depicting Holland and West Friesland, dates back to 1620 and appears in two other Vermeer paintings. It's a subtle detail that not only adds depth but also provides a historical context, making the painting more relatable to the contemporary viewer. Vermeer's mastery of light is also striking. Light typically enters his works from the left, and here, it softly illuminates the woman's blue jacket, giving the scene a warm glow and adding to the painting's quiet beauty.

Still Life with a Turkey Pie, Pieter Claesz, 1627

Still Life with a Turkey Pie, Pieter Claesz, 1627. Purchased with the support of the Vereniging Rembrandt and the Stichting tot Bevordering van de Belangen van het Rijksmuseum © The Rijksmuseum

This painting is an excellent representation of how different worlds collided in the 17th-century, showing that it wasn't just about Dutch culture. This piece by Pieter Claesz, 1627, immediately stands out because of his use of color, which contrasts with the more muted tones. He incorporates color, and many of the items we see, like bread and olives, are common in current households but were not at that time.

Everything we're looking at was originally from somewhere other than the Dutch Republic. While the bread may have been baked locally, the grain came from the Baltic region. The carpet is most likely Anatolian, from Turkey. Wine, grapes, lemons, and olives come from the Mediterranean, while the turkey is from South America. The bowl is from China, and after 1602, the Dutch became significant importers of Chinese porcelain. It was expensive, so Delftware emerged as a more affordable alternative.

Of course, this influx of non-Western goods came with a darker side - colonial warfare in the countries from which these items were taken. The only genuinely Dutch elements are the linen tablecloth, likely from Leiden, a prominent textile hub, and the oysters, probably from Zeeland. As the century progressed, wealthy families' foods and table settings changed, reflecting the growing availability of spices, fruits, and other imports. Paintings like this serve as historical documents, capturing the evolving culture of the time. They offer insight into art and trade, aspiration, food, and textile culture.

Selected works, Judith Leyster

I chose to highlight Judith Leyster because women played a significant role in the 17th-century, including in the art world, and Leyster is one of the most renowned female painters of that time—perhaps even one of the best. What's particularly fascinating is that while many women of the period painted still lifes, such as fruit, flowers, or vanitas scenes, Leyster boldly ventured into genre painting, depicting ambitious figure scenes, which was rare for female artists.

In 1633, Leyster was accepted into the Guild of St. Luke, a prestigious achievement that allowed her to call herself a master painter. As a master painter, she could open her own studio and train students, which she did, likely teaching male apprentices.

Remarkably, we're looking at paintings by such a successful and acclaimed female artist who had her own studio and was a pioneer in a male-dominated field. There's speculation that Leyster may have been a student of Frans Hals, as we sometimes see his influence in her loose, bold brushstrokes. Unfortunately, much of her work was unjustly attributed to Hals for many years despite her being a master in her own right. One interesting detail about her is her unique signature: a G and a star, referring to her last name, "Leyster," which means "comet." It's an original and distinctive mark.

Winter Landscape with Ice Skaters, Hendrick Avercamp, c. 1608

Winter Landscape with Ice Skaters, Hendrick Avercamp, c. 1608. Purchased with the support of the Vereniging Rembrandt&nbsp © The Rijksmuseum

This painting is exciting because, when the temperature drops every year, Dutch people get excited about winter, hoping to skate in events like the Eleven Cities Tour. There's a collective anticipation for ice and the chance to enjoy winter activities, which is why I think this painting by Hendrik Avercamp resonates so much—it reflects the deep connection many Dutch people have with their winters.

The painting dates back to the Little Ice Age, when winters were extremely cold, unlike today's generally mild ones. In the 17th century, winters were harsh, with plenty of rain, wind, snow, and ice. The painting offers an incredible historical snapshot of a completely different climate from what we experience today.

This painting is even more remarkable because Hendrik Avercamp was deaf, yet you can almost hear the lively atmosphere. People are skating, talking, and some are even playing "colf"—a precursor to modern golf—on the ice with sticks. There are also humorous details, like someone falling flat on their face or a figure with their bare buttocks exposed, adding to the narrative richness of the scene. The ice during the 17th-century wasn't just a physical space, but a social one where boundaries blurred. People from all classes enjoyed themselves together.

Created in 1608, this is one of Avercamp's finest works. He was actually the first artist in the northern Netherlands to specialize in these winter scenes.

Dolls’ house of Petronella Oortman, anonymous, c. 1686 - c. 1710

Dolls’ house of Petronella Oortman, anonymous, c. 1686 - c. 1710 © The Rijksmuseum

We've reached the late 17th-century, starting with the earliest acquisitions. It's fitting to end here, as this period will play a significant role in the upcoming exhibition, At Home in the 17th-century (autumn 2025). We're looking at one of the most stunning dollhouses in Europe and certainly one of the most popular objects in the Rijksmuseum's collection: an intricately crafted object commissioned by Petronella Oortman, who married silk merchant Johannes Brandt in 1686.

Shortly after, she began creating this dollhouse, a project that spanned from roughly 1686 to 1710 and took over 20 years to complete. Oortman spent an enormous sum, between 20,000 and 30,000 guilders, which at the time could have bought an authentic townhouse on the canals. This isn't a replica of her home but an idealised version, as it omits staircases. What's remarkable is that many of the objects inside were made from the same materials as their full-size counterparts.

Look closely, and you'll see tiny plates commissioned from China, a silk screen from Japan, and other details that reflect the time and effort spent creating this masterpiece. The tortoiseshell cabinet contains nine rooms, from an attic drying room to a show kitchen and a working kitchen. The craftsmanship and attention to detail give us a glimpse into the lives of the 17th-century bourgeoisie. Even the linens in the cupboard are natural, tiny pieces of fabric. The books in the miniature library have actual text, and the plates from China are authentically detailed. This dollhouse was never a toy; it was a showcase of wealth and taste and perhaps even an educational tool.