Étiquette : peinture

 

David, ou la gloire d’un caméléon

Par Jacques-Louis David — photo Shonagon 2025-03-15, Domaine public, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=162458623

Sert-il le bien, sert-il le mal, est-il révolutionnaire ou archi-réactionnaire ? Et surtout est-il vraiment un bon peintre ? Un regard sur sa psychologie à travers 80 tableaux et 165 dessins clarifie certaines contradictions et permet d’identifier le vice de son œuvre.

Jacques-Louis David, Autoportrait.

Jacques-Louis David n’a que neuf ans lorsque son père Maurice, membre de la corporation des merciers de Paris, est tué en duel.

Dès lors, tel un petit Raymond Barre avant l’heure, l’enfant et ses talents deviennent l’instrument d’une mère avide de rétablir les honneurs et la respectabilité familiale. L’affection maternelle pour l’enfant ne sera qu’un salaire rémunérateur pour une irrésistible ascension vers le succès à n’importe quel prix.

On constate tout de suite que l’auteur du « Serment des Horaces » fut d’abord, et pendant très longtemps, un doux et un mou. Près de la trentaine et toujours souffrant de cette sensibilité Pompadour, son obsession du succès le poussa au suicide (manqué), à la suite de plusieurs échecs à l’Académie pour le concours du Prix de Rome, humiliation insoutenable.

Plus pour la gloire que pour le succès, il remporta finalement le prix en question et fera le voyage à Rome. La veille de son départ, il prophétise : « L’Antique ne me séduira pas, il manque d’entrain et ne remue pas. » A-t-il vraiment été séduit par les grandeurs de l’Antiquité au milieu des ruines de l’Empire romain ? « Il me semblait, raconte-t-il, que je venais d’être opéré de la cataracte… »

N’était-il pas motivé plutôt par le désir passionné d’éviter une nouvelle humiliation et de se venger de l’Académie, qui l’avait mortifié ? David comprend que pour posséder la gloire et le succès, il faut se mettre au goût du jour et se laisser emporter par les vagues mousseuses de l’esprit du temps.

« Il eut le courage de se refaire un talent », dira de lui Delacroix, quand David se convertit au style en vogue, un style épris de droites et de droitures que promouvait son maître Vien et dont Diderot fut l’apologiste.

Cette peau de caméléon nous rappelle la carrière tout aussi remplie de contradictions d’un certain Arno Breker. Intime de Jean Cocteau et de Jean Marais, avant de devenir le sculpteur personnel d’Adolf Hitler à qui il fournissait ses statues de surhommes ariens, celui-ci demeure en même temps très proche ami de Picasso et de Salvador Dali, tout en déclinant par prudence, en 1945, l’offre de Staline de venir embellir les palais de l’empire des goulags.

C’est donc à Rome que naquit le tableau « Le serment des Horaces », souvent comparé au choix cornélien entre devoir et passion. Les Horaces qui déclarent vouloir « vaincre ou mourir » nous semblent déjà avoir un pied dans la tombe et les femmes pleurant (car elles savent que ce sera évidemment la mort…) nous font plus penser à la Securitat de Roumanie, plaidant sa fidélité au dictateur Ceausescu, qu’aux nobles idéaux d’héroïsme révolutionnaire tel que certains farceurs essayent de nous le faire croire.

David révolutionnaire avant la révolution ? Précurseur du despotisme de Marat et de Robespierre, certes il le fut, puisqu’il siégeait au sein du Comité de sûreté publique, qui envoya à la guillotine ce Lavoisier dont il peignait quelques années auparavant le portrait si bien léché.

La mort de Socrate, 1787, Jacques-Louis David.

Et « La mort de Socrate » ? N’est-ce pas l’éloge de la République ? Ancien élève de rhétorique, David réussit à transformer cette scène clef de l’histoire en page de propagande stalinienne : pour sauver l’État, devenu valeur suprême vidée de toute substance, tout est permis. Socrate donne froidement sa vie, pendant que ses élèves se lamentent, non pas pour défendre l’idéal de justice et de vérité pour lequel sa mort servira l’humanité entière, mais pour le maintien d’un système qu’il dérange : la majorité a démocratiquement décidé que Socrate perturbe. Il en tire les conclusions. Pour David, l’héroïsme, ne serait-ce pas aussi réussir son suicide ?

Même éthique pour « Les licteurs apportant à Brutus les corps de ses fils » de 1789. Bien sûr Brutus n’avait d’autre choix que de faire assassiner ses propres fils, puisqu’ils conspiraient contre la République romaine.

Peu importent les allusions à la famille royale dans ces tableaux. Comprenez que cette volonté de puissance stoïque n’a rien de républicain, ce n’est que la caricature grotesque de l’éthique bestiale de l’oligarchie dominante, qui avait ses pions dans toutes les factions. Pour elle, l’homme n’est qu’un loup pour l’homme et seule une dictature de type spartiate est apte à protéger les intérêts communs.

Les traumatismes psychologiques de David se prêtaient à merveille à cette idéologie. Telle une girouette, il sera toujours du côté du plus fort : d’abord auprès de l’Ancien régime, puis sous la Terreur, où il deviendra l’ami intime de Marat et de Robespierre ; finalement, on trouve de lui des textes sur Napoléon qui sont d’une flagornerie gênante. Devant lui David s’extasie : « Oh mes amis, quelle tête il a ! C’est pur, c’est beau comme l’antique ! »

Tout en poursuivant son activité artistique, il entre en politique, devient membre du Club des Jacobins et se rend chez Trudaine et le duc d’Orléans. De caractère ingrat, vindicatif et haineux, il n’a pas pardonné à l’Académie ses premiers échecs au prix de Rome. En 1790, David prend la tête de la Commune des arts, issue du mouvement des Académiciens dissidents. Il obtient en 1790 la fin du contrôle du Salon par l’Académie royale de peinture et de sculpture, et participe comme commissaire adjoint au premier Salon de la liberté, qui ouvre le 21 août 1791.

Député à la Convention, il vote la mort du Roi et devient en quelque sorte le « premier peintre de la République ». A peine nommé à la commission du Muséum, il demande qu’on expulse du Louvre un de ses collègues pour occuper son atelier (« Seul, Citoyen Ministre, je vaux une Académie »).

Fête de l’Etre suprême, tableau attribué ç Jacques-Louis David, collection privée (Creative Commons)

Le 20 prairial de l’an II, il organise la fête de l’Être Suprême, cortège mené par des chars symboliques sur un parcours jalonné de tableaux vivants. Il est chargé d’imaginer les fêtes de la République, d’en figurer les événements majeurs, d’en inventer l’habillement. Et c’est là aussi l’échec : ses projets pour les costumes de député, de juge, de citoyen sont grotesques : on n’habille pas l’homme de 1792 en Romain. Tant qu’elle n’était qu’un rêve, la révolution pouvait se déguiser en antique. Réalité, elle devient caricaturale dans son imitation.

Il profita du rapport de l’Abbé Grégoire, lequel demanda, au nom du Comité de l’Instruction publique, la suppression des Académiciens, exception faite de l’Académie des Sciences,

Quant à l’Académie de peinture, David se chargea d’en demander spécialement la suppression :

Vengeance personnelle plutôt que conviction républicaine, car si David vitupère contre l’Académie, il en est le plus pur produit. A ses yeux seule compte la peinture d’histoire, cette peinture opportuniste que l’institution place au sommet de la hiérarchie picturale. C’est bien ce néo-classicisme froid et mystique de David qui symbolise à nos jours l’esprit légendaire de l’Académie.

8 Thermidor

Quand éclate la crise du 8 Thermidor et que Robespierre est arrêté, David reste chez lui, « malade ». Il n’apparaît à la Convention que le 13, quand les attaques contre lui commencent à pleuvoir. André Dumont y déclare :

Entrant à ce moment, dans la salle, et apprenant qu’il est question de lui, David demande à être entendu ; la Convention le lui accorde. « Je ne connais pas, dit-il, les dénonciations qui ont été faites contre moi ; mais personne ne peut plus m’inculper que moi-même. On ne peut concevoir jusqu’à quel point ce malheureux [Robespierre] m’a trompé. C’est par ses sentiments hypocrites qu’il m’a abusé, et, citoyens, il n’aurait pas pu y arriver autrement… »

« David a embrassé Robespierre aux Jacobins, s’écrie un représentant, et il y est allé prêcher l’insurrection. »

Goupilleau de Fontenay prend la parole : « J’interpelle David de déclarer si, au moment où Robespierre descendit de la tribune, après avoir prononcé son discours ou plutôt son acte d’accusation, lui, David, n’alla pas l’embrasser en lui disant : ‘Si tu bois la ciguë, je la boirai avec toi’ ? »

« Ce n’était pas pour faire accueil à Robespierre, répond David, que je descendis de son côté ; c’était pour monter à la tribune et demander que l’heure de la Fête du 10 fut avancée. Je n’ai pas embrassé Robespierre, je ne l’ai même pas touché, car il repoussait tout le monde (…) Je ne suis pas le seul qui ait été trompé sur son compte, beaucoup de citoyens l’ont cru vertueux, ainsi que moi… »

Après la mort de Robespierre, David est lui-même jeté en prison, d’où il écrit : « On aurait confondu la figure toujours pensive de l’artiste avec le masque hideux du conspirateur. »

David a trahi et il trahira. Remis en liberté, il anticipe l’arrivée de Bonaparte et il est heureux de peindre un héros romain vivant. Passé le coup d’État du 18 Brumaire, il déclare : « J’avais toujours pensé que nous n’étions pas assez vertueux pour être républicains. » De nouveau, il sera le premier peintre de l’empereur et du nouveau régime.

Entre-temps il mène une vie réglée ; vers neuf heures du matin, il reçoit ses disciples et des artistes d’autres écoles, puis se rend à son atelier dont il sort à midi pour corriger les travaux de ses élèves ; groupe pittoresque que celui de ses élèves, partagé entre la « secte des Crassons », qui ne se lavent pas, la « secte aristocratique » et celle des « primitifs » plus davidiens que David.

Puis, c’est le repas, entre sa femme et ses quatre enfants, qui se passe en silence, et vers trois heures, il se remet au travail.

Si David nous éblouit par la maîtrise de son métier (comme d’autres contemporains, d’ailleurs), ne nous laissons pas aveugler au point d’en faire « une valeur française » seulement parce qu’il a réussi (on voit se profiler « La France qui gagne »).

Dans la presse, malgré tout le brouhaha autour du bicentenaire, les critiques reniflent bien quelque chose de pourri, mais ne voient pas la grosse queue du poisson en décomposition qui pend aux tableaux de David.

L’Express écrit : « Assurément, ce David-là est grand, mais il n’est que grand. Baudelaire le qualifiait ‘d’astre froid’. »

La Presse française le qualifie d’« esprit dogmatique, féroce, guindé et bêtement vertueux de la bourgeoisie ‘éclairée’ à laquelle il appartenait, esprit qui le pousse à la fabrication de toiles de prétentions éducatrices et également vertueuses, œuvres quasiment ridicules, aux gestes figés, aux personnages dignes d’un dessus de pendule… »

Beaucoup semblent croire que ce sont en fait les idées révolutionnaires, trop politiques, qui lui ont monté la tête, tandis qu’il était si bien quand il peignait autre chose que de la propagande : « Mais son vrai génie était celui de l’Ecole française, le réalisme qui peint la vie telle qu’elle paraît, avec une sensualité élégante réglée par une construction claire. Et lorsqu’il s’y abandonne, il crée alors des chefs-d’œuvre. » (La Presse française)

Hélas, on pense souvent qu’être Français, c’est être aussi mort que l’univers immobile de Descartes, ce petit jardin où tout est réglé élégamment suivant une construction claire et ordonnée.

Au nom de la clarté, l’académisme n’a-t-il pas éliminé la musicalité naturelle qui portait la langue de François Rabelais ? N’a-t-il pas imposé le positivisme stérile contre la méthode de géométrie constructive de Monge et de Poncelet ? Au nom de la clarté, n’a-t-on pas imposé la biologie moléculaire contre la compréhension du vivant d’un Louis Pasteur ?

Pour une fois en accord avec David, et par amour pour la jeunesse et l’humanité, anéantissons ce trop funeste académisme !

Parce qu’être français, c’est déjà être vivant et se donner les moyens de le rester : avoir une science de la vie et élever des arts qui célèbrent la vie, et non l’artifice figé de la mort.

Bibliographie sommaire :

  • Jacques Louis-Jules David : Le peintre Louis David, souvenirs et documents inédits, Victor Havard, libraire-éditeur, 1880, Paris;
  • André Maurois, J.L. David, Les demi-dieux, Editions de Dimanche, 1948, Paris.
  • Catherine et Stéphane Guegan, David, L’Estampille/L’objet d’art, hors-série N° 2, 1989, Paris.
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Karel Vereycken in World Art Collection book

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Karel Vereycken Selected for New Road 2 Art Digital Expo

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Karel Vereycken wins Honorable Mention Award in Teravarna’s 15th Open

Minerva, Goddess of Peace, watercolor of Karel Vereycken.

Upcoming exhibits:

  • CONFIRMED: 2026 : PARIS, France, physical, P.A.R.I.S. (Paris Art Renaissance & International Salon), Venue: Hôtel Particulier Beaujon, 8th Arrondissement, Paris; Dates: November 23 – December 6, 2026; Gala Night: November 25, 2026;
  • CONFIRMED: 2026: PARIS, France, Nov. 1-8, physical, Galerie Mona Lisa, 32, rue de Varenne, 75007, Paris, France.
  • CONFIRMED: 2026, PARIS,ART SHOPPING, digital, booth of ARTBOXY, 23-25 October, Carrousel du Louvre, 99, rue de Rivoli, 75001 Paris, France;
  • CONFIRMED: 2026: LUZERN, Switzerland, 22–25 October, digital, ARTS CROSSROAD 2026, Switzerland, Kunstmesse;
  • CONFIRMED: 2026: OSAKA, Japan, 16-19 October, digital, ARRIVAL GALLERY ART SHOW, 2 Chome-10-16 Higashitenma, Kita Ward, Osaka, 530-0044.
  • CONFIRMED: 2026: MONTREUIL, 9-11 October, physical, UNDER PRESSURE, exposition d’estampes à l’Atelier Bo Halbirk, 1 rue Garibaldi, Montreuil (Métro Robespierre);
  • CONFIRMED: 2026: SAN SALVADOR, El Salvador, October 7-November 4, physical, SUMARTE Art show and auction at Modern Art Museum (MARTE).
  • CONFIRMED: 2026: CHICAGO, United States, 7-10 October, digital, Chicago Art Fair, booth 4094 of the Circle Foundation for the Arts (CFA), World Wide Art & Artavita. Venue: The MART,  222 W Merchandise Mart Plaza, Chicago, IL;
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The Shadow of Vernadsky in Leonardo’s Virgin and Child with Saint Anne (IN RUSSIAN)

This article: in English
Cet article: en français
This article: in Italian
This article: in Russian

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Karel Vereycken invited artist at El Salvador’s Sumarte+ Art expo

The full catalogue with all the sponsors and participants can be seen here:

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Karel Vereycken selected for Best Contemporary Visual Artists Worldwide Guide & Catalog Vol. 4

Pre-layout of the pages about Karel Vereycken.

The book is available on Amazon

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Karel Vereycken wins Noble Art Award for Outstanding Contribution to Artistic Heritage

Recognition of Artistic Contribution

The selection of a recipient represents recognition of the artist’s talent, dedication, innovation, and contribution to the Art World. It acknowledges an artistic practice that has developed with purpose and consistency and whose work has achieved significance within a broader cultural context.

The Award considers artistic achievement not simply as the production of individual works, but as the development of an artistic trajectory. Within such a trajectory, individual works become part of a larger practice—one shaped by the artist’s evolving ideas, methods, decisions, and commitment to artistic production.

In this sense, the NOBLE ART AWARD recognizes both achievement and continuity. It acknowledges what an artist has established through their practice while situating that contribution within a larger cultural and historical framework.

Recognition through the Award also brings increased attention to the recipient’s practice, contributing to its visibility within the international art context. This visibility is understood as part of a broader process of cultural recognition: the identification of artistic practices considered worthy of sustained attention and inclusion within contemporary artistic discourse.

A Curatorial Process

The NOBLE ART AWARD is not open for application. Participation is by invitation only, with artists identified through a global curatorial selection process.

This structure distinguishes the Award from open-call competitions and application-based prizes. Artists do not nominate themselves or submit an application for consideration. Instead, the selection process is initiated curatorially, through the identification of artistic practices considered relevant to the principles and purpose of the Award.

The curatorial process places emphasis on artistic quality, sustained practice, dedication, innovation, and contribution to the field of art. Central to this approach is a preference for enduring artistic value over temporary trends. The Award therefore seeks to consider artistic practice within a longer cultural perspective rather than through the immediate conditions of fashion or visibility.

Such an approach reflects the Award’s relationship to the idea of heritage itself. If artistic heritage is understood as something that develops across time, the evaluation of contemporary practice necessarily requires attention to qualities that may extend beyond the present moment.

Beyond the Immediate Present

The distinction between the contemporary and the historical is never absolute. Works created today enter an existing cultural dialogue while simultaneously contributing to the material from which future histories of art will be constructed. 

The NOBLE ART AWARD is situated within this intersection between present artistic practice and future cultural memory. Its focus on outstanding contribution to artistic heritage reflects an understanding that the history of art remains open: it is continually expanded by artists whose work becomes part of the cultural experience of their time.

For this reason, the Award considers artistic practice not only in relation to contemporary recognition but also in relation to continuity. The emphasis on timeless mastery articulated by the Award refers to this longer view—an attention to artistic qualities that are not dependent solely upon passing tendencies, but that emerge through commitment, development, and sustained artistic work.

The Award consequently proposes a form of recognition grounded in duration. It acknowledges that artistic significance is rarely contained within a single moment and that an artist’s contribution is often revealed through the cumulative development of a practice.

The Artist Within the Living History of Art

Art history is not only the account of what has already been established. It continues to be formed through the work of practicing artists and through the ways their contributions are recognized, interpreted, documented, and carried forward. Contemporary artists therefore occupy a particular position: they work within the present while simultaneously producing part of the cultural material through which that present may eventually be remembered.

The Award’s reference to the living history of art expresses this relationship between artistic practice, recognition, and cultural continuity. To recognize an artist’s contribution to artistic heritage is to acknowledge that heritage itself remains unfinished.

Within this framework, receiving the NOBLE ART AWARD, FOR OUTSTANDING CONTRIBUTION TO ARTISTIC HERITAGE marks a significant moment in an artist’s professional trajectory. It recognizes the quality and importance of the artist’s work, the dedication demonstrated throughout their artistic journey, and their contribution to the enrichment of the Art World.

The NOBLE ART AWARD is therefore conceived not simply as a prize, but as a form of curatorial recognition: an acknowledgment of artistic practice as part of an evolving cultural history and of the artist’s contribution to the continuing formation of artistic heritage.

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Karel Vereycken once again on show at Paris Carrousel du Louvre Art Exhibit

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Debunking Renaissance Fakenews — Part I: Fake Platonist Marsilio Ficino

From Marsilio Ficino’s storytelling described in De Amore, when in November 7, 1468 (supposedly Plato’s birthday) he and his friends and followers (Pico della Mirandola, Politiano, etc.), gathered in a reenactment of the Symposium, in a « Platoneia » celebration. In red, his patron Lorenzo di’ Medici. Luigi Mussini, 1867. Oil on canvas, Bourg-en-Bresse, France. (Public domain).

by Karel Vereycken, august 2026

As it is well known, I’m a passionate researcher and admirer of what goes under the label of “Renaissance.” I’ve researched quite extensively and over many years, creative artists such as Ghiberti, Verrocchio, Brunelleschi, Donatello, Piero della Francesca, Leonardo da Vinci, Michelangelo and Raphael.

This summer, I read Alma Palmer‘s inspiring book “Inventing the Renaissance, Myths of the Golden Age.” 1 That title is in reality a wake-up call. Yes, there was a splendid unprecedented explosion of Greek and Latin studies combined with painting, sculpture and architecture invented by idealistic humanists that anybody visiting Italy, and Florence more particularly, can admire.

Fictional portrait of Gemistos Plethon, detail of a fresco painted between 1459-1461 by Benozzo Gozzoli (1421-1497), Palazzo Medici Riccardi, Florence, Italy.

However there are also powerful myths invented (created out of hot air) by powerful factions of the oligarchy out to claim their own legitimacy (it was all me) and play down that of others.

As a starter, let’s examine the very common narrative about the Greek philosopher Georgios Gemistos, who added the name “Plethon” (Plato) to his own name, who traveled in 1438, at the age of at least seventy-eight, to the Council of Ferrara–Florence, the ecumenical gathering that sought to heal the schism between the Orthodox and Latin churches. Plethon, it goes, brought with him the full works of Plato and inspired Cosimo de’ Medici to set up a “Platonic Academy” and have Plato’s works made available to the West.

“This is clearly one of those stories too good to be examined closely, and it has been repeated by nearly every scholar who has written on Florentine culture or Renaissance Platonism,” writes James Hankins who spent years trying to document the case. 2

Here is a rough sketch of the various points of the official narrative followed by my remarks and interrogations:

Domenico Ghirlandaio: Zachariah in the Temple (detail): Marsilio Ficino. Fresco. Santa Maria Novella, Cappella Tornabuoni, Florence, Italy. 1486-1490.


Conclusive proof lacking. The sole and unique source of information for this supposed encounter of 1438-39 is Marsilio Ficino (1433-1499), the son of Cosimo’s physician. Ficino was not an eyewitness to the event. He was born in 1433 and was 5 years old when the Council of Florence started and reports on it only twice, the first time 24 years and the second time 52 years later. Admittedly, he could have gotten the story from his father, who was Cosimo’s medical doctor.

Complicating such an encounter would have arisen from the fact that Plethon spoke nothing but Greek, while Cosimo had zero command over Greek and very poor command over Latin. Cosimo, while reportedly admiring ancient Greek knowledge, never wrote poetry, orations or treatises. The only surviving letters are in Italian.

To understand Plethon, Cosimo would have required a good translator on top of Platonic and Neo-Platonic philosophy. But Bessarion, Plethon’s erudite pupil, was organizing, directing and managing on a day to day basis, together with Traversari and Cusa, the Ecumenical council.

Other than Ficino, not one single source of that period, even among the most ardent defenders and lackey’s of the Medicis, praises or even mentions Cosimo’s encounter with Plethon and his supposed plan to set up a Platonic Academy. Even Bessarion doesn’t spent a line on the subject.

The only rhetorical hints to a supposed encounter between Cosimo and Plethon, as well as his project to create a Platonic Academy appear in two writings of Ficino:

  • 24 years after the Council of Florence in a letter to Cosimo de’ Medici written in September 1462;
  • 52 years after the Council of Florence in Ficino’s preface to 1490 translation of the Enneads, the main work of the (evil neo-Platonic) Plotinus (who Roman Emperor Julien the Apostate tried to impose as a state religion at the end of the Roman Empire as an alternative to Christianity). The aim of that preface, was to please Cosimo’s grandson, Lorenzo the magnificent (1449-1492), and beg him to continue financing Ficino and his translations of Plotinus, which according to the latter, was nearly as ardently requested by Cosimo as that of the works of Plato.

Here is the critical passage of Ficino’s 1490 introduction to Plotinus’ Enneads :

Marble portrait of Cosimo de’ Medici, 1460, Antonio Rossellino.

What is a proven fact is that Plethon (c. 1355-1452) did meet with Leonardo Bruni (1370-1444), the chancellor of Florence at that time, who had translated himself several Greek manuscripts including Aristotle and Plato. Leonardo Bruni’s translations of the Phaedo, Apology, Crito, and Phaedrus were made only shortly before Gemistos visit. Bruni had studied Greek under the Byzantine scholar Manuel Chrysoloras (1350-1415) who had been invited to teach Greek in Florence by Coluccio Salutati (1341-1406), a friend and admirer of Petrarch (1304-1374) and Boccaccio (1313-1375).

Thanks to Chrysoloras’ activity a number of new Latin of Platonic writings began to appear under the name of his students, Bruni, Umberto Decembrio, and Cencio de’ Rustici, who translated between them ten Platonic dialogues, including the Gorgias, Crito, Apology, Phaedo and the Republic.

According to historian N.G. Wilson, Plethon, during his stay in Florence acquainted the Italian geographer Paolo Toscanelli (1397-1482) with the extensive travels, writings and mapping of the Greek geographer Strabo (1st century BC/AD), hitherto unknown in Italy but crucial for elaborating his famous map that later fell in the hands of Columbus. What is known is that Strabo’s works became an integral part of Bessarion’s library.

Conclusive proof lacking. During the Council, Gemistos found that he had free time because much of the counciliar discussion concerned theological minutiae that did not require the presence of a secular sage. Even if Ficino claims Cosimo assisted “frequently” at Plethon’s lectures, there is close to zero evidence they ever took place. What is known is that Plethon wrote a treaty on the difference between Aristotle and Plato, commonly known as De Differentiis. A decade later, Plethon described the circumstances in which he composed his book without ever mentioning it was a follow-up to his lectures:

C. M. Woodhouse, author of the 416 pages book “George Gemistos Plethon, The Last of the Hellenes” (1986) 5 writes that most claims about this event should be considered as pure speculation. For him:

Yes. Plethon carried with him many Greek manuscripts. They included the entire works of Plato but also those of the (toxic neoplatonists) Plotinus and Porphyry as well as the Chaldean Oracles (more on that in Part III).

No. There is no proof Cosimo was given or bought these manuscripts from Plethon. The latter took many books back with him to Mystras, Greece, after having allowed scribes in Florence to copy them. His most famous student, Cardinal Bessarion, later collected Plethon’s original autographs and manuscripts. Bessarion, not trusting Medici rule over Florence and demanding very precise conditions for conservation, donated his vast collection to the Republic of Venice, forming the foundation of the famous Biblioteca Marciana.

Bust by Verrocchio, 15th-century terracotta bust, National Gallery of Art, Washington.

Yes, but. 24 years after the Council of Florence, in 1462, Cosimo, seeing his life coming to an end, supplied the 29 years old Ficino with various Greek manuscripts of Plato’s work, whereupon Ficino started translating the entire corpus into Latin. The draft translation of the entire set of dialogues was finished six to seven years later, around 1468–69. In December 1473, Ficino, age 40, is ordained a priest and gave priority to writing and getting printed his own writings, among which the Platonic Theology and On the Christian Religion.

Plato had to wait and Ficino’s translation of the Complete Works of Plato (Platonis Opera Omnia), thirty-six in all, will only be printed in Florence in 1484 –46 years after the Council of Florence– by the press of the Dominican monastery of San Jacopo di Ripoli, the first printshop to employ women (Dominican nuns) as typesetters. The cost of printing 1,025 copies was not financed by Lorenzo de’ Medici (who passed away in 1492) to whom the translation was dedicated, but by two prominent Florentine patrons and humanists: Filippe Valori and Francesco Berlinghieri. Once produced, Lorenzo did circulate the books in which he appeared prominently. A much-improved second edition was printed in Venice in 1491 by Bernardinus de Choris de Cremona and Simon de Luere for Andreas Torresanus de Asula. 

Since the Medici’s wanted to keep the spread of ideas under their control. Therefore they favored handmade codices crafted by professional scribes over mass-produced print. At that time, the price of a manuscript varied wildly—from a few florins for a simple, unadorned text to hundreds of florins or the equivalent of several months to years of wages for an elaborately illuminated luxury volume. With that Medici policy, Florence, the epicenter of the Renaissance, ended up as being one of the last ones in Italy to have modern printing shops !

Paul Oskar Kristeller, who spend years researching on Ficino, gives the following account about why the entire process took so many years:

Kristeller confirms that Cosimo asked Ficino to put on hold his translations of Plato, and translate first the writings of Hermes Trismegistus:

As suggested by Kristeller in this paragraph, at the demand of Cosimo, Ficino translated first a collection of Hellenistic Greek documents brought to Pistoia in 1460 by Leonardo da Pistoia later called Hermetica (texts attributed to the legendary Hellenistic figure Hermes Trismegistus). Later, Ficino will also translate the writings of many of the (toxic) Neoplatonists, including Porphyry, Iamblichus, and especially Plotinus.

The story goes that while other companions at Cosimo’s sickbed read Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics (with humanist commentaries) during his prolonged illness, Ficino read some of his newly made Latin translations of Plato’s works to comfort and entertain Cosimo in his final hours. But Cosimo’s Latin, as said before, was poor.

Yes and No. Ficino was far from being the first translator of Platonic dialogues, he rather represents the culminating point of translation activity during the fifteenth century. The Greek text has come down to us in a number of manuscripts, and it was printed for the first time by Aldus Manutius in Venice in 1513.

Before the Renaissance, the Western world was very limited in its access to Plato’s writings. It inherited from Roman antiquity only two partial renderings of the Timaeus made by Cicero and Calcidius, and a number of shorter testimonia in Cicero’s philosophical writings, St. Augustine, and other works of Latin philosophy. During the 12th and 13th centuries, when most works of Aristotle were translated into Latin, the reader acquired only the nearly unintelligible versions of the Phaedo and the Meno, translated by Henricus Aristippus, and a partial version of the Parmenides, translated with Proclus’ commentary by William of Moerbeke. This was all that a Latin student was able to read of Plato up to about 1400, including Petrarch, who owned sixteen Greek manuscripts of Plato that reached the West in modern times, but who was not able to read them.

Conclusive proof lacking. Historian James Hankins is very skeptical about that:

Another way to understand Ficino and his « academy » is to examine the various ways he uses the word “academy” and its variants. What one finds is that Plato’s dialogues themselves could be referred to as an “academy,” rich with precious teachings as they were. An “academy” could be a private school organized to teach youths, though not necessarily located in one specific place or devoted to one doctrinal tradition. And the word “academy” could refer to regular meetings of literary men. Ficino’s “academy” seems to have been more associated with the first two meanings of the word. Rather than leading a regular gathering in a specific place, Ficino preferred to teach Florence’s elite youth when he could and, as a Socratic, philosophical friend, to try to draw out of his associates the better part of their natures in conversation.

The Villa Medici at Careggi in the hills near Florence, site of the fictional « Platonic Academy. »

Unclear. Cosimo in 1463 gave Ficino a small property in Careggi with a domicile (“cum domo pro laboratore et hoste et terris laboratis,”) as the document in the State Archive of Florence puts it. There is also a letter from Ficino to Cosimo from September of 1462, in which Ficino writes: “spiritedly do I devote myself to the Academy you arranged for us on the estate in Careggi, as if I worship rightly at a kind of shrine of contemplation”

These two sources allow the inference that, while the specific gift of property did not occur until 1463, Ficino and his cohort met at least once on Medici property in the hills outside Florence. There is another document, again from 1462, which shows that he received a house in the city of Florence as a gift from Cosimo, which was then rented out, so that Ficino received the income from the rent.

Not by intention. The fact that the arrival of real Platonic ideas were a key incentive in the birth of the Renaissance, is indisputable. But the Renaissance started three generations BEFORE Ficino publishing his translations. The reason that the Plethon/Cosimo/Ficino narrative became dominant is because the Medici family compound, by history books and intense propaganda called their fake claim pretending that THEY were the fathers, mothers, sons, daughters and authors of the Renaissance.

In reality, what the Medici mafia wants us to forget is the fact that Plato and Classical Greek wisdom were injected in Italy and Europe by Dante, Petrarch and Boccaccio and their immediate followers Salutati, Bruni, Traversari and Nicholas of Cusa. It were the latter who motivated and paid the main collectors of Greek manuscripts, mostly over the entire period leading up to the Council of Florence:

  • Manuel Chrysoloras (1350-1415), a greek scholar, humanist, philosopher and translator of ancient Greek texts. Serving as the ambassador for the Byzantine emperor Manuel II Palaiologos, he became a renowned teacher of Greek literature and history in Florence and Venice. In 1396, Coluccio Salutati, the Chancellor of Florence invited Chrysoloras to teach Greek grammar and literature. In a letter to Poggio Bracciolini, quoting the Roman lawyer and statesman Cicero, Salutati wrote: « The verdict of our own Cicero confirms that we Romans either made wiser innovations than theirs by ourselves or improved on what we took from them, but of course, as he himself says elsewhere with reference to his own day: « Italy is invincible in war, Greece in culture. » For our part, and we mean no offence, we firmly believe that both Greeks and Latins have always taken learning to a higher level by extending it to each other’s literature
  • Guarino da Verona (1374-1460), a student of Chrysoloras who spent years studying in Constantinople and returned to Italy with numerous Greek codexes, founding a major educational system based on classical Greek and Latin learning.
  • Niccolò Niccoli (1364-1437): Niccoli rarely left Florence. Instead, he stayed behind to fund Poggio’s expeditions, receive the recovered texts, and painstakingly transcribe them into his beautiful, efficient handwriting—a style that directly invented modern Italic script. Noteworthy is the fact that when Niccoli had spent so much on books that he was close to bankruptcy, Cosimo de’ Medici bailed him out. In exchange, Cosimo got a hand on Niccoli’s collection of manuscripts which he used for the first public library in Europe, an idea first conceptualized by Pala Strozzi, the richest man of Italy before Cosimo but exiled by the latter.
  • Giovanni Aurispa (1376-1459), a Sicilian humanist who traveled to the East and returned to Italy in 1423 with a massive haul of 238 Greek manuscripts, among which all the works of Plato and work of Proclus, and various Greek historians and poets.
  • Poggio Bracciolini (1380-1459): As a papal secretary, Poggio used his travels to church councils to gain access to remote monasteries. He famously rediscovered Lucretius’s De rerum natura (On the Nature of Things, which preserved ancient Greek Epicurean philosophy, though written in Latin), as well as lost works by Cicero, Quintilian, and Vitruvius;
  • Francesco Filelfo (1398-1481), a diplomat and scholar who collected a substantial library of Greek manuscripts while living in Constantinople before bringing them back to Italy.
  • Cardinal Bessarion (1403-1472), a Byzantine scholar who was a close friend of Cusa and who later converted to Catholicism and gathered a vast library of over 500 Greek manuscripts (which eventually formed the core of the Biblioteca Marciana in Venice), saving countless philosophical and scientific texts from destruction.

Conclusion

Finally, looking at what was produced by the “Platonic Academy”, it has to be noted that both Ficino and even more his most important pupil Pico della Mirandola, became fervent supporters of the Dominican priest Savonarola. The latter called the Florentines to burn all their luxury goods leading them to sin. The books of the Plato-loving Boccaccio were thrown into the fire. Renaissance paintings were burned with Sandro Botticelli himself throwing some of his works in the giant fire burning, both as a spiritual catharsis and carnaval. It was Ficino’s favorite pupil Pico della Mirandola which convinced Lorenzo de Medici to allow Savonarola to enter Florence and present his doom day speeches.

Once it became clear that Savonarola was captivating growing anti-Medici sentiment, Ficino, to preserve his financial backing from the Medicis, retracted and felt obliged to criticize Savonarola who was violently attacking Medici rule. Savonarola criticized Ficino’s heavy reliance on magic and astrology.

Ficino only escaped from the Inquisition, who didn’t like Ficino’s mixture of Platonism, magic and Christianity, because Lorenzo de’ Medici’s wife, a scion of the Roman Orsini family and as such a part of the deep state ruling from above, intervened to prevent him getting sentenced. Savonarola was burned at the stake, not for theological heresy, mut for creating political uproar. But the extremism he unleashed was so threatening that Lorenzo’s successor, Piero the unfortunate (1472-1503), according to recent research, most likely poisoned by arsenic Pico della Mirandola and the poet Politiano, another pupil and friend of Ficino, both considered too much related to the wild Dominican.

Main points of argument:

  • Yes, real Platonism, together with augustinian christianity, promoted the image of « Renaissance » man, a free creative being as created as a living image of the creator.
  • Thanks to Petrarch, Boccaccio, Salutati, Bruni, Traversari and Cusa, studies of Greek and Latin bloomed in Florence and kiscked off a “Renaissance” at the beginning of the 15th century (construction of the gates of the Baptistry by Ghiberti) an elan that culminated with the construction of the Dome and the 1438 Council of Florence.
  • Plethon was not the first to bring the full works of Plato to the West, they arrived in 1423 thanks to a collaborator of Nicholas of Cusa, Giovanni Aurispa.
  • The translations of Plato’s work by the neo-Platonist (Plotinist) Marsilio Ficino, requested by Cosimo de’ Medici, only arrived at the end of the century (1484), that is AFTER the “Golden” Renaissance. They were not causing what happened before.
  • Ficino and his loyal follower Pico della Mirandola ended up backing the Renaissance book and art burning dominican monk Savonarola.
  • The Medici family fabricated a fairy tale (storytelling, propaganda, narrative) pretending it was them (Cosimo and Lorenzo de Medici) which initiated the Renaissance whose splendor they mainly wanted to appropriate for their own dynastic glory. But yes, without spending too much money, through various channels, and for their own reasons, the Medicis did keep financially afloat Ghiberti, Uccello, Fra Angelico, Filippo Lippi, Ghirlandaio, Brunelleschi, Donatello, Botticelli and Michelangelo. But one should remember: the amount of money spent for the golden frames of paintings was at least five times higher than that received by the artist. And, Leonardo da Vinci, the archetype of the creative Renaissance genius said: « The Medici created and destroyed me. » (Li medici mi crearono e distrussono) (see part II coming soon)

Works consulted:

Footnotes:

  1. Palmer, Ada, Inventing The Renaissance, Myths of a Golden Age, Head of Zeus, Bloomsbury Publishing 2025; ↩︎
  2. Hankins, James, Cosimo de’ Medici and the ‘Platonic Academy’, Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes, Vol. 53 (1990), pp. 144-162. Published by the Warburg Institute; ↩︎
  3. As quoted by James Hankins, Ibid; ↩︎
  4. Woodhouse, C.M., George Gemistos Plethon, The Last of the Hellenes, Claredon Press, Oxford University Press, Oxford, UK, 1986. ↩︎
  5. Woodhouse, C.M., Ibid.; ↩︎
  6. Woodhouse, C.M., Ibid.; ↩︎
  7. Kristeller, Paul Oskar. Marsilio Ficino as a beginning student of Plato. In: Scriptorium, Tome 20 n°1, 1966. pp. 41-54; ↩︎
  8. Kristeller, Paul Oskar, Ibid.; ↩︎
  9. Kristeller, Paul Oskar, Ibid.; ↩︎
  10. Hankins, James, Ibid.; ↩︎
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Flore de Sète

Flore de Sète, aquarelle de Karel Vereycken, Papier Arches 41 x 22 cm, 2026.
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Minerve, déesse de la Paix

Minerve, déesse romaine de la Paix, de la Sagesse et des Arts, aquarel de Karel Vereycken, 2026.

Awards, prix, expositions

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Pont de Montifort à Lodève

Pont de Montifort à Lodève (34). Aquarelle de Karel Vereycken. 41 x 26 cm, papier Arches, 2026.
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Karel Vereycken longlisted for Artist of the Year Award

On July 29, Franco-Belgian painter-engraver Karel Vereycken was informed by the Visual Artists Association (VAA, based in London, UK) :

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Leo Spaepen déchiffre le code de Bruegel

Interview : « Bruegel peint l’histoire ! »

Karel Vereycken : Cher Leo, vous avez écrit un livre remarquable : Le Code Bruegel. Nous nous trouvons ici, dans un lieu historique au cœur de Wijnegem : l’ancienne auberge De Swaen (Le cygne), représentée dans son état d’origine dans un tableau de Bruegel, Le dénombrement de Bethléem (1566, Musées royaux des Beaux-Arts, Bruxelles). À partir de cette découverte, après de nombreuses recherches, vous avez développé un regard assez nouveau sur Bruegel et son œuvre. Pouvez-vous nous parler des origines de votre livre ?

Leo Spaepen : C’est une longue histoire, qui remonte à mon enfance. Après tout, j’ai toujours eu un lien affectif avec ce petit bâtiment, car j’ai grandi dans le quartier. De plus, en tant que jeune conseiller municipal, je me suis battu pour sauver ce joyau du patrimoine de la démolition. Mais à l’époque, j’ignorais tout de son lien avec Bruegel.

Ce n’est qu’en 2004, lorsqu’un historien de Wijnegem découvrit que l’auberge De Swaen figurait au centre du tableau de Bruegel, Le dénombrement de Bethléem, que cela devint évident. Un bâtiment identique apparaît dans un dessin du Louvre, attribué à Pieter Bruegel l’Ancien (vers 1525-1569). Sous ce dessin, une inscription au crayon disant : « À Wijnegem ».

Tour Vleminck, parc municipal, Wijnegem.

On pouvait déjà en déduire que le tableau lui-même avait probablement un lien avec Wijnegem. Une étape supplémentaire a été franchie grâce aux recherches de Tine Meganck, qui a travaillé pour le musée de Bruxelles en 2018.

Elle a établi le lien avec le seigneur de Wijnegem du XVIe siècle, Jan Vleminck (1527-1568) 1, sur le domaine duquel se trouvait l’auberge et qui en était donc le propriétaire.

Selon Meganck, c’est ce Jan Vleminck qui commanda le tableau à Brueghel pour immortaliser sa nomination comme seigneur de Wijnegem et son droit d’y percevoir les impôts. 2

À première vue, ce tableau ne traite que d’un sujet biblique, plus précisément d’un recensement sous l’empereur Auguste. Cependant, en y regardant de plus près, on découvre un « double fond ». Les personnes représentées ne se contentent pas de s’enregistrer ; elles s’acquittent également des taxes et impôts dus au nouveau seigneur de Wijnegem !

KV : Ils se rendent donc à Bethléem pour être recensés, mais leur voyage s’achève à Wijnegem, où ils doivent soudainement payer des impôts…

LS : Oui, c’est un peu surréaliste. Bruegel mélange en fait deux histoires : une biblique et une contemporaine. On pourrait le dire autrement, sur le ton de la plaisanterie : le tableau montre en réalité que Jésus-Christ n’est pas né à Bethléem, mais à Wijnegem !

Après avoir lu les travaux de Tine Meganck, j’ai commencé à réfléchir. Bruegel travaillait donc ici avec deux niveaux de signification : un sens superficiel et un sens plus profond. Je me suis demandé : s’il a entremêlé deux histoires dans Le dénombrement, n’a-t-il pas éventuellement appliqué le même procédé dans d’autres tableaux ?

Des recherches approfondies ont confirmé cette hypothèse. La découverte de cette régularité dans la façon de procéder fut une surprise et constitua une avancée majeure dans les études sur Bruegel, car de nombreux tableaux célèbres, restés jusque-là inexpliqués, trouvèrent soudain une explication simple et, de surcroît, cohérente.

KV : C’est donc de là que vient le nom « Le Code Bruegel », une sorte de clé que vous avez trouvée pour comprendre son œuvre ?

LS : Absolument, et la clé est en réalité très simple. Bruegel a établi des comparaisons : le narratif A rappelle le narratif B. Le paiement des impôts à Jan Vleminck lui évoquait le recensement sous Auguste, car dans les deux cas, les gens se rassemblaient pour se faire recenser. À partir de cette association, il a ainsi fusionné deux histoires en un seul tableau au sens ambigu.

KV : De cette manière, Bruegel pouvait donc commenter les événements politiques de son époque.

LS : Oui, car Le dénombrement de Bethléem n’est qu’un exemple anodin. Mais si l’on observe d’autres tableaux de Bruegel, on constate que cette technique du double sens est loin d’être innocente. En effet, le sens plus profond est généralement lié au conflit politique et religieux virulent de l’époque : la lutte des autorités catholiques contre la montée du protestantisme.

Au sommet de la hiérarchie se trouvait le roi Philippe II d’Espagne, et localement la régente des Pays-Bas , Marguerite de Parme , et son conseiller, le cardinal Granvelle , qui devait jouer le rôle de chien de garde pour s’assurer qu’elle suivait correctement les instructions du grand patron.

KV : Avec les autres membres du « conseil secret ». 3

LS : En effet. À cette époque, la démocratie et la liberté d’expression n’existaient pas, et la critique sociale était donc toujours dangereuse. Bruegel devait par conséquent dissimuler ses commentaires sous une épaisse couche de non-dits. Cela lui permettait, par exemple, d’adopter des positions pacifistes qui restaient imperceptibles à une lecture superficielle du récit biblique.

Le massacre des Innocents à Bethléem

La même année (1566) que Le dénombrement de Bethléem, il peignit Le Massacre des Innocents à Bethléem, dans lequel il dénonça clairement la violence des iconoclastes. 4

Il a dissimulé l’histoire principale, celle de la destruction d’œuvres d’art par des fanatiques religieux, sous le narratif officiel concernant des enfants innocents tués par les soldats du roi Hérode.

Pieter Bruegel l’Ancien, Le Massacre des Innocents à Bethléem (Collection royale du château de Windsor). S’agit-il d’un massacre brutal ou d’un acte de vandalisme grave ?

KV : Grâce à cette méthode, le peintre a lui aussi pu échapper aux poursuites.

LS : Oui, car il était lui-même fortement influencé par un « gourou » allemand aux convictions religieuses peu orthodoxes. 5

Il devait donc redoubler de prudence lorsqu’il s’en prenait aux dirigeants catholiques dans ses peintures, qui étaient parfois de véritables caricatures politiques, car il pouvait facilement être accusé de sympathiser avec l’hérésie. Ce qui n’était d’ailleurs pas sans raison.

Dulle Griet

Pieter Bruegel l’Ancien, Dulle Griet (1563, Musée Mayer van den Bergh, Anvers).

KV : La critique de cette politique est indéniablement présente dans De Dulle Griet (Egalement connue sous le nom « Margot la folle » — 1563, Musée Mayer van den Bergh, Anvers), sans doute le tableau le plus difficile et le moins compris jamais réalisé aux Pays-Bas. Votre ouvrage nous offre une interprétation nouvelle et surprenante de cette œuvre.

LS : Il m’a suffi d’appliquer à ce tableau la formule que j’avais découverte dans Le dénombrement. Mais cela a demandé des efforts, car les deux narratifs de Dulle Griet étaient inconnues. Mais ce n’était pas le cas à l’époque ! Tout le monde connaissait alors l’histoire de cette femme si audacieuse qu’elle aurait pu voler au nez du diable dans l’enfer. Ce personnage est issu d’une farce rhétorique aujourd’hui perdue. Reconstituer cette histoire s’est avéré plus complexe que de retrouver le contexte politique sous-jacent. Car j’ai vite compris que « Griet » n’était autre que le prénom abrégé et familier de Marguerite de Parme. Et l’identité de ce personnage central au manteau rouge rosé m’est également apparue rapidement : Granvelle, l’évêque, cardinal et conseiller de Marguerite de Parme.

Pieter Bruegel l’Ancien, Dulle Griet, détail (Musée Mayer Van den Bergh Anvers).

S’agit-il ici de femmes qui combattent des hommes, ou de catholiques qui luttent contre des hérétiques ?

KV : Pourquoi le cardinal, dans le tableau, défèque-t-il des pièces d’argent sur les femmes ?

LS : Ce détail troublant fait référence au fait que Granvelle payait des gens pour dénoncer les protestants à l’Inquisition. Dans le narratif B, ce géant était censé lancer des pierres, mais comme pierres et argent étaient incompatibles, Bruegel dut opter pour la version « sans risque » avec les pierres, comme on le voit dans un dessin préparatoire… conservé aujourd’hui. Ce dessin, dans la collections du Kunstpalast de Düsseldorf, confirme implicitement l’exactitude du code découvert.

Il y a aussi ce panier rempli d’objets de valeur et de bijoux que Griet tient sous son bras. Cela fait référence au vol commis en enfer dans le narratif B, mais aussi à la confiscation des biens des hérétiques condamnés dans le narratif A. Ces hérétiques furent dépouillés de leurs biens avant d’être envoyés au bûcher. Et ce bûcher, c’est bien sûr l’enfer, où Griet les précipite à la pointe de son épée.

On peut donc interpréter tous les détails du tableau de deux manières. De même, on peut distinguer les deux récits : d’une part, la lutte entre hommes paresseux et femmes en colère, et d’autre part, la lutte entre « mauvais » hérétiques et « bons » catholiques. Tout est ambigu. Un magnifique puzzle !

KV : Vous écrivez dans votre introduction que l’idée de Bruegel comme commentateur politique n’est pas nouvelle, mais que cette vision du peintre n’est certainement pas universellement acceptée.

LS : En Belgique, les « négationnistes » restent très influents, comme j’ai pu le constater personnellement. Par exemple, les articles portant sur les interprétations politiques de Bruegel sont rejetés sous toutes sortes de prétextes. À l’étranger, en revanche, la question de la présence de messages politiques dans l’œuvre de Bruegel a fait l’objet de recherches depuis un certain temps. Cependant, ces recherches se sont toujours limitées à une, deux, voire trois toiles au maximum, et n’ont jamais abouti à des résultats convaincants.

À Maastricht, par exemple, une exposition intitulée « L’art comme résistance cachée ? » 6 –avec un point d’interrogation– s’est tenue en 2021. Elle portait sur le tableau « Le Chemin de Croix », mais le point d’interrogation et le doute persistaient. Des historiens de l’art en Allemagne et aux États-Unis se penchent également sur cette question depuis un certain temps, aboutissant invariablement à des suppositions vagues.

À ma grande surprise, personne n’avait jamais entrepris de recherche systématique de liens entre les tableaux de Bruegel et l’actualité de son époque. J’ai donc classé chronologiquement non pas deux ou trois, mais l’ensemble des peintures allégoriques, puis je les ai confrontées aux événements des années 1560 tels que relatés dans les chroniques, les lettres et les ouvrages historiques. Ces recherches ont confirmé, grâce à de nombreux indices, que Pieter Bruegel l’Ancien a suivi de près le conflit politico-religieux de son temps dans au moins quinze tableaux, jusqu’aux premières batailles de la guerre de Quatre-Vingts Ans (1568-1648) incluses.

Mon livre ne parle donc pas seulement d’art, mais aussi d’histoire, et surtout du lien entre les deux. Bruegel a peint l’histoire !

KV : Merci encore pour cet ouvrage passionnant, qui représente à mon avis une étape importante vers une meilleure compréhension de Bruegel et de notre histoire culturelle. (Message au spectateur 🙂 Alors, achetez ce livre, et surtout : lisez-le !

NOTES:

  1. La famille Vleminck s’installa à Anvers, où elle joua un rôle important dans le commerce international. Jan Vleminck épousa Isabella Schetz le 21 juillet 1561, fille du banquier Gaspar Schetz (1513-1580). Avec Balthazar et Melchior, Gaspar était l’un des trois fils d’Erasmus Schetz, banquier anversois de l’empereur Charles Quint. Mais Erasmus Schetz était également un ami et protecteur financier de l’humaniste Erasme de Rotterdam. Pour sa part, Melchior Schetz était prince de la chambre rhétorique anversoise De Violieren et, à ce titre, avec le maire d’Anvers Anthonis Van Straelen, une figure clé de l’organisation du glorieux Landjuweel d’Anvers de 1561. ↩︎
  2. Tine Luk Meganck, « ​​Dénombrement à Bethléem. Hiver d’un âge d’or » dans : Scènes d’hiver de Bruegel. Editions Historiens et historiens de l’art en dialogue, Tine Luk Meganck et Sabine van Sprang, 2018, pp. 85-127. ↩︎
  3. A l’époque de Bruegel, Charles de Berlaymont (1510-1578), Antoine Perrenot de Granvelle (1517-1582) et Viglius van Aytta (1507-1577) étaient les trois figures principales du Conseil privé (consulta), établi par l’empereur Charles Quint. ↩︎
  4. L’iconoclasme fut une destruction à grande échelle de statues de saints et d’autres objets sur des sites religieux catholiques des Pays-Bas, qui eut lieu en 1566. ↩︎
  5. Il s’agit du mystique allemand Hendrik Niclaes (1501-1580), fondateur en 1539 de la Familia Caritatis (« Maison de la Charité »), un groupe quasi secret qui exerçait une grande influence auprès des intellectuels, des marchands et des artistes. Niclaes prônait une expérience individuelle avec Dieu et croyait à l’harmonisation des différentes opinions à un niveau plus profond. Il s’agissait d’une attitude contemplative et tolérante face à la vie, qui semblait généralement réservée aux personnes instruites. Un philosophe comme Socrate, qui relativisait toute autorité et tout savoir profane, jouissait d’une grande popularité dans ces milieux. Associés à la Maison de la Charité (sans nécessairement en être membre) : les imprimeurs Christoffel Plantijn, John Gailliart, les humanistes Abraham Ortelius, Justus Lipsius, Andreas Masius, Goropius Becanus, Benito Arias Montano, les poètes Peeter Heyns, Jan van der Noot, Lucas d’Heere, les peintres Pieter Bruegel l’Ancien, Filips Galle, Joris Hoefnagel, le théologien Hubert Duifhuis, l’ écrivain Dirck Volkertsz. Coornhert, les « familistes » Daniel van Bombergen, Emanuel van Meteren, Johan Radermacher et les marchands anversois Marcus Perez et Ferdinando Ximines. ↩︎
  6. Musée Bonnefanten, Maastricht. Catalogue : Bruegel et ses contemporains, L’art comme résistance cachée ?, Lars Hendrikman et Dorien Tamis, Editions Waanders, 2021. ↩︎
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Leo Spaepen deciphers Bruegel’s code

Interview: « Bruegel painted history! »

Karel Vereycken: Dear Leo, you have written a wonderful book: The Bruegel Code. We are standing here at a historic location in the center of Wijnegem: the old inn De Swaen, which is depicted in its former shape in a painting by Bruegel, The Census at Bethlehem (1566, Royal Museums of Fine Arts, Brussels). Based on that discovery, after much study, you have developed a completely new perspective on Bruegel and his work. Can you tell us something about the origins of your book?

Leo Spaepen: That is a long history, going back to my childhood years. After all, I have always had a sentimental connection to this little building, because I grew up in the neighborhood. Moreover, as a young municipal councilor, I fought to save this piece of heritage from demolition. But back then, I had no idea that it had anything to do with Bruegel.

This only became clear in 2004, when a historian from Wijnegem discovered that the inn De Swaen stands in the center of Bruegel’s painting The Census at Bethlehem. An identical building appears in a drawing from the Louvre, which was attributed to Pieter Bruegel the Elder (circa 1525-1569). Below that sketch, written in pencil, one can read: ‘At Wijnegem.’

Vlemincktower, municipal park, Wijnegem.

From that, we could already deduce that the painting itself might also have had something to do with Wijnegem. A further step came with the research by Tine Meganck, who worked for the Brussels museum in 2018.

She established the connection with the sixteenth-century lord of Wijnegem, Jan Vleminck (1527-1568)1 , on whose domain the inn stood and who was therefore the owner thereof.

According to Meganck, it was this Jan Vleminck who commissioned the painting from Breugel to immortalize his appointment as Lord of Wijnegem and his right to collect taxes there.2

At first glance, that painting deals with only a Biblical subject, specifically a census during the time of Emperor Augustus. But if we look a little closer, we see the « double bottom. » The people in the painting are not only registering themselves, but they are also paying dues and taxes owed to the new lord of Wijnegem!

KV: So they go to Bethlehem to be counted, but their journey ends in Wijnegem, where they suddenly have to pay taxes…

LS: Yes, it is a bit surreal. Bruegel actually mixes two stories together here: a biblical one and a contemporary one. We could put it differently as a joke: the painting actually shows that Jesus Christ was not born in Bethlehem, but in Wijnegem in Belgium!

After reading the work of Tine Meganck, I started thinking about this way of composing. So Bruegel was working with two layers of meaning here: a superficial and a deeper meaning. I wondered: if he blended two stories in The Census, did he perhaps not apply the same process in other paintings as well?

Thorough research revealed that this was indeed the case. The discovery of that consistent pattern was a surprise and represented a major breakthrough in Bruegel studies, as many well-known paintings that had never been properly understood suddenly received a simple and, moreover, coherent explanation.

KV: So that’s where the name ‘The Bruegel Code’ comes from, a kind of key you found to understand his work?

LS: Certainly, and that key is actually very simple. Bruegel made comparisons: narrative A is reminiscent of narrative B. The payment of taxes to Jan Vleminck reminded him of the census in the time of Augustus, because in both cases people flocked somewhere to have themselves registered. Based on this associative connection, he thus made two stories into one painting with an ambiguous meaning.

KV: In that way, Bruegel could therefore actually comment on the political events of his time.

LS: Yes, and The Census at Bethlehem is merely an innocent example. But if we look at other paintings by Bruegel, we see that this technique of the double meaning is not so innocent. After all, the deeper layer of meaning usually has to do with the bitter political and religious conflict of that time: the struggle of the Catholic rulers against the rising Protestantism.

Those in power were King Philip II of Spain at the top, and locally the Regent of the Netherlands, Margaret of Parma, and her advisor Cardinal Granvelle, who had to act as a watchdog to ensure that she properly followed the instructions of the big boss.


KV: Together with the other members of the ‘Secret Council.’3

LS: Indeed. There was no such thing as democracy or freedom of speech back then, so social criticism was always dangerous. Bruegel therefore had to hide his commentaries under a thick outer layer. This allowed him, for example, to adopt pacifist positions that could not be seen if one looked only superficially at the biblical story.

The Massacre of the Innocents in Bethlehem

In the same year as The Census at Bethlehem (1566), he painted The Massacre of the Innocents at Bethlehem, in which he clearly spoke out against the violence of the iconoclasts.4

He hid the A-narrative, about the destruction of works of art by religious fanatics, under the B-narrative about innocent children who were killed by the soldiers of King Herod.

Pieter Bruegel the Elder, The Massacre of the Innocents at Bethlehem (Royal Collection Windsor Castle).
Is this a brutal massacre or grievous vandalism?

KV: Thanks to that method, the painter was also able to escape prosecution himself.

LS: Yes, because he himself was strongly influenced by a German « guru » with unorthodox religious views.5 He therefore had to be doubly careful when he targeted the Catholic rulers in his paintings, which were sometimes genuine political cartoons, for he could easily be accused of sympathizing with heresy. Not without reason, by the way.

Dulle Griet

Pieter Bruegel the Elder, Mad Griet (1563, Museum Mayer van den Bergh, Antwerp).

KV: Criticism of the ruling elite is certainly present in De Dulle Griet (also known as Mad Meg —1563, Museum Mayer van den Bergh, Antwerp), perhaps the most difficult and least understood painting ever created in the Low Countries. Your book provides us with a new and surprising interpretation of this work.

LS: I only had to apply the formula I discovered in The Census to that painting. But that took some effort, because both the A and B narratives of Dulle Griet were unknown. But not in those days! Back then, everyone knew the story of the woman who was so audacious that she dared to commit a robbery under the nose of the devil in hell. That character comes from a rhetorician’s farce that has now been lost. Reconstructing that story was a greater challenge than finding the political story behind it. For I soon realized that ‘Griet’ is nothing other than the shortened, popular first name of Margaret of Parma. And who that central figure with his rose-red cloak is also quickly became clear to me: Granvelle, the bishop, cardinal, and advisor to Margaret of Parma.

Pieter Bruegel the Elder, Mad Griet, detail (Museum Mayer Van den Bergh Antwerp).
Are women fighting men here, or Catholics fighting heretics?

KV: Why is the cardinal in the painting scattering money from his rear-end over the women?

LS: That dangerous detail refers to the fact that Granvelle paid citizens to denounce the Protestants to the Inquisition. In narrative B, that giant was normally supposed to throw stones, but because stones and money didn’t go together, Bruegel had to choose and used the ‘safe’ version with the stones in a model drawing that he for all security preserved in his workshop. The drawing, which is now part of the collection of the Kunstpalast in Düsseldorf, implicitly confirms the correctness of the discovered code of interpretation.

There is also that basket of valuable household goods and jewels that Griet holds under her arm. This refers to the robbery committed in hell in narrative B, but also to the confiscation of the possessions of the condemned heretics in narrative A. Those heretics were first stripped of their goods before being sent to the stake. And that stake is, of course, hell, into which Griet drives them with her sword.

We can therefore interpret all the details of the painting in two ways. In the same way, we can separate the two stories: on the one hand, the struggle between lazy men and angry women, and on the other, the struggle between ‘bad’ heretics and ‘good’ Catholics. Everything is ambiguous. A magnificent puzzle!

KV: You write in your introduction that Bruegel as a political commentator and a pacifist is not new, but that this view of the painter is certainly not universally accepted.

LS: In Belgium, the ‘deniers’ are still very dominant, as I have experienced firsthand. For instance, articles on political interpretations of Bruegel are rejected under all sorts of pretexts. Abroad, however, the question of whether there are political messages in Bruegel’s work has actually been investigated for quite some time. However, this always concerned only one, two, or at most three paintings, and never yielded convincing results.

In Maastricht, for example, an exhibition ran in 2021 titled: Art as Hidden Resistance?6 With a Question Mark. It concerned the painting The Procession to Calvary, but the question mark and the doubt could not be removed. Art historians in Germany and America have also been engaged in this research for some time, consistently resulting in vague guessing.

To my great surprise, however, no one had ever systematically searched for connections between Bruegel’s paintings and the current events of the time. I therefore arranged not two or three, but all the allegorical paintings chronologically myself, and then confronted them with the events of the 1560s as described in chronicles, letters, and history books. That research confirmed, based on numerous clues, that Pieter Bruegel the Elder closely followed the political-religious conflict of his time in at least fifteen paintings, up to and including the first battles of the Eighty Years’ War (1568-1648).

So my book is not just about art, but also about history, and especially about the connection between the two. Bruegel painted history!

KV: Thanks again for this fascinating work, which I believe is an important step towards a better understanding of Bruegel and our cultural history.
(Message to the viewer:) So buy this book, and above all: read it!

FOOTNOTES:

  1. The Vleminck family settled in Antwerp, where she played an important role in international trade. Jan Vleminck married Isabella Schetz on July 21, 1561, daughter of banker Gaspar Schetz (1513-1580). Together with Balthazar and Melchior, Gaspar was one of the three sons of Emperor Charles’s Antwerp banker Erasmus Schetz, who was also a friend and financier of Erasmus. Melchior Schetz was the Prince of the Antwerp rhetoric chamber De Violieren and, in that capacity, together with external mayor Anthonis Van Straelen, a key figure in the organization of the glorious Antwerp Landjuweel of 1561. ↩︎
  2. Tine Luk Meganck, ‘Census at Bethlehem. Winter of a Golden Age’ in: Bruegel’s Winter Scenes. Historians and Art Historians in Dialogue, eds. Tine Luk Meganck and Sabine van Sprang, 2018, pp. 85-127. ↩︎
  3. Charles de Berlaymont (1510-1578), Antoine Perrenot de Granvelle (1517-1582) and Viglius van Aytta (1507-1577) were the three leading figures of the Privy Council (consulta), established by Emperor Charles V, in Bruegel’s time. ↩︎
  4. The Iconoclasm was a large-scale destruction of statues of saints and other objects at Catholic religious sites in the Low Countries, which took place in 1566. ↩︎
  5. More precise, the German mystic Hendrik Niclaes (1501–1580), founder in 1539 of the Familia Caritatis (‘House of Love’), an almost secret group that held great appeal for intellectuals, merchants, and artists. Niclaes called for an individual sense of God and believed that different views could be brought into harmony on a deeper level. It was a contemplative, tolerant attitude to life that largely appeared to be reserved for educated people. A philosopher like Socrates, who relativized all authority and worldly knowledge, enjoyed great popularity in these circles. Associated with the House of Love (without necessarily being a member thereof): printers Christoffel Plantijn, John Gailliart, the humanists Abraham Ortelius, Justus Lipsius, Andreas Masius, Goropius Becanus, Benito Arias Montano, the poets Peeter Heyns, Jan van der Noot, Lucas d’Heere, the painters Pieter Bruegel the Elder, Filips Galle, Joris Hoefnagel, the theologian Hubert Duifhuis, the writer Dirck Volkertsz. Coornhert, ‘familists’ Daniel van Bombergen, Emanuel van Meteren, Johan Radermacher and the Antwerp merchants Marcus Perez and Ferdinando Ximines. ↩︎
  6. Bonnefanten Museum, Maastricht. Catalogue: Bruegel and Contemporaries, Art as Hidden Resistance?, Lars Hendrikman and Dorien Tamis, Waanders Publishers, 2021. ↩︎
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Karel Vereycken gets honorable mention in Portrait art contest

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Karel Vereycken’s engraving « Coincidence of Opposites » wins Honorable Mention

On June 15, 2026, the Circle Foundation for the Arts (CFA) informed Franco-Belgian painter engraver Karel Vereycken about the results of the Artist of the Month’s contest. Vereycken had filed participation with his latest engraving, « The Coincidence of the Opposites »:

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Karel Vereycken:以悖论式隐喻,显现无形之物

Posted on by Jonathan Hale

Also available in: EN ES FR DE IT

在一个充斥着浮光掠影与浅显直白的世界里,有这样一位艺术家,他致力于挖掘更深层的真理,将无形之物引入可见之境。Karel Vereycken 正是这样一位艺术家。他是一位版画家,其艺术之旅始于比利时的历史名城安特卫普,如今在法国的阿尔让特伊绽放光彩。他的作品超越了单纯的再现,通过精心构建的悖论式隐喻,深入探究人类经验的复杂织锦。Vereycken 的艺术不仅供人观赏,更是一场深刻对话的邀约,一场对塑造我们生活的无形力量的沉思。

Karel Vereycken 于1957年出生于安特卫普,他的艺术之路并非坦途,而是一场由际遇和内在驱动力共同塑造的丰富探索。他的父母在港口与船舶维修行业的背景下艰难谋生,但他们认识到文化熏陶对孩子成长的重要性。Vereycken 早年曾短暂学习音乐,后因刻板的教学方法而中断,转而进入一所社区绘画学校,正是这里为他未来的艺术生涯播下了种子。在雕塑家 Herman Cornelis 的指导下,他学会了观察与复制的力量,这位老师采用的是一种亲身实践、凭直觉教学的方式。十二岁时,他迎来了人生的一个关键时刻——赢得了他的第一个艺术奖项。这份认可,加上老师对他“宝贵天赋”的肯定,促使他接受更正规的训练。在母亲的鼓励下,他进入布鲁塞尔的圣卢克学院,沉浸在造型艺术的学习中。在这里,通过对解剖学以及达芬奇和阿尔布雷希特·丢勒等大师作品的严谨研究,他为理解形式与表达奠定了坚实的基础。随后,他在皇家美术学院继续深造,以“优异”的成绩获得了铜版画专业的结业证书,进一步巩固了他对技艺掌握的执着追求。

之后移居巴黎的时期,Vereycken 参与了多样的活动。他最初为一家非商业出版物从事新闻和编辑工作,但艺术的呼唤始终萦绕心头。他回归其艺术本源,起初探索古代绘画技术,使用手工制作的蛋彩和传统的油画技法重现古典大师的作品。这段时期虽然在技术探索上收获颇丰,但在展览方面却充满挑战,因为这些作品在他有机会展出之前就已被人收藏。这促使他重新将注意力转向水彩和精细的蚀刻版画工艺,这些媒介后来成为他创作实践的核心。

他持续参与法国的蚀刻版画社群,这体现了他对磨练技艺的不懈追求。作为法国国家版画联合会的成员,Vereycken 在 Atelier63 工作室提升了他的技术实力,并在丹麦版画家 Bo Halbirk 创立的蒙特勒伊印刷工作坊进一步完善了他的工艺。这段从安特卫普充满活力的街道到布鲁塞尔和巴黎艺术中心的旅程,彰显了他对卓越的终生追求,以及对艺术创作不朽力量的根深蒂固的热情。

“Sublimart”:悖论式隐喻的艺术

H2O

Vereycken 的艺术创作可以用他自创的术语“sublimart”来最好地描述——一个融合了“sublime”(崇高)与“art”(艺术)的词。这个新词概括了他独特的创作手法:运用悖论式隐喻,将灵魂提升至崇高境界的具象艺术。他的作品无关乎肤浅的美或直白的叙事,而是构建视觉上的悖论,以此作为通往更深层次理解的大门。正如他言简意赅地指出的,“让无形可见”是他创作背后的驱动力。他实现这一目标并非通过传统的象征主义或直接的描绘,而是将迥异的元素编织在一起,以此挑战观者的感知,激发深入的思考。

他主要运用的材料和技术——蚀刻、绘画、油画和水彩——都经过了审慎的选择。蚀刻版画,凭借其固有的精确性与错综复杂的线条表现力,尤其适合他探索层层递进的意义。蚀刻的过程需要耐心与审慎的行动,这与其观念性隐喻的深思熟虑的构建过程如出一辙。他对古典技术的执着,结合现代的感性,使其具象作品充满了深刻的情感与智识共鸣。每一件作品都是形式与观念之间精心编排的对话,邀请观者踏上一段个人的发现之旅。

Vereycken 作品的主题基础并非刻意为之,而是从他与世界的互动及艺术探索中自然生发。他希望“通过向人们展示,没有什么比‘古典’艺术更‘现代’、更‘革命’,从而震撼他们”。然而,他对古典艺术的定义远非僵化或学院派。对 Vereycken 而言,它代表着一种“基于非犬儒、具解放性、充满反讽与诗意隐喻的构图科学”。他相信,这些隐喻是所有艺术形式(无论是视觉艺术还是音乐)的根本关键。他的方法植根于这样一种理解:艺术是艺术家赠予观者的深刻“礼物”,是一种促进联结和共享体验的爱的行动。

艺术启迪的愿景

Jardin d’Argenteuil, 2025

Karel Vereycken 的艺术事业充满了深刻的使命感,远不止于创作赏心悦目的物品。他将自己的工作视为一种“教学活动”,一场“人文主义思想游击战”,旨在唤醒观者,让他们感知到新的维度。虽然他承认销售对于推进其艺术事业的重要性,但他最终的动机并非迎合大众品味,而是促进与观者更深层次的联结。他努力使艺术成为一扇“窗户”,通往人们凭直觉认为重要却往往无法触及的领域。

他致力于分享自己的知识和热情,这充分体现了他对这一愿景的承诺。他曾在巴黎卢浮宫、安特卫普、布鲁塞尔或法兰克福的博物馆、米兰的布雷拉美术馆、柏林的画廊以及纽约大都会艺术博物馆等主要艺术机构举办过多次导览。这些沉浸式体验已被记录下来,部分录音可在他的网站上获取,让更广泛的受众能从他的见解中受益。他收到的由衷感谢,许多人表示惊讶于思想竟能通过绘画如此深刻地传达,这突显了他教学方法的影响力。

展望未来,Vereycken 的发展轨迹依然以积极参与和扩大其影响力的愿望为标志。他的作品曾在纽约的 ARTEXPO 和巴黎卢浮宫卡鲁塞尔厅的 ARTSHOPPING 以数字形式展出,他持续活跃于当代艺术平台。在赢得“蒙娜丽莎奖”并随后在巴黎的 Galerie Mona Lisa 举办展览之后,他的重心仍然是分享他那具有变革力量的艺术。即将在萨尔瓦多为 SUMARTE 2026 举办展览的计划,标志着他的国际抱负以及让全球观众接触到他独特视角的持续承诺。他正在进行的作品,如概念丰富的《天堂阶梯》,展示了他对融合多元视觉灵感——在此例中是中国黄山的风光与佛兰德的风景画传统——的持续探索,旨在为人类旅程打造强有力的隐喻。

Karel Vereycken 的艺术证明了求知欲、精湛技艺以及对艺术启迪人类精神能力的深刻信念所具有的持久力量。通过创造悖论式的隐喻,他邀请我们超越表象,去探寻塑造我们存在的无形意义之流。他的作品有力地提醒我们,真正的艺术性不仅在于所见之物,更在于所感、所悟,并最终被揭示的一切。

欲联系 Karel Vereycken 并探索其引人入胜的作品,请访问他的网站及社交媒体平台:

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Karel Vereycken: Creare metafore paradossali per svelare l’invisibile

Posted on by Jonathan Hale

Also available in: EN ES FR DE IT

In un mondo spesso saturo dell’immediato e dell’ovvio, esiste un artista dedito a scavare alla ricerca di verità più profonde, a traghettare l’intangibile nel regno del visibile. Karel Vereycken, incisore il cui percorso è iniziato nella storica città di Anversa, in Belgio, e che oggi fiorisce ad Argenteuil, in Francia, è uno di questi artisti. La sua opera trascende la mera rappresentazione, addentrandosi nella complessa trama dell’esperienza umana attraverso metafore paradossali meticolosamente elaborate. L’arte di Vereycken non è fatta semplicemente per essere osservata; è un invito a un dialogo profondo, una contemplazione delle forze invisibili che modellano le nostre vite.

Nato ad Anversa nel 1957, il percorso artistico di Karel Vereycken non è stato una linea retta, ma una ricca esplorazione modellata tanto dalle circostanze quanto da una spinta innata. I suoi genitori, che lavoravano nell’industria portuale e delle riparazioni navali, riconobbero l’importanza di un arricchimento culturale per i loro figli. Un primo approccio alla musica, interrotto da un metodo di insegnamento troppo rigido, lo portò a una scuola di disegno popolare, e fu qui che vennero gettati i semi del suo futuro artistico. Sotto la guida di Herman Cornelis, uno scultore dall’approccio pratico e intuitivo, Vereycken imparò il potere dell’osservazione e della riproduzione. Un momento cruciale arrivò all’età di dodici anni, quando vinse il suo primo premio d’arte. Questo riconoscimento, unito alla convinzione del suo insegnante che possedesse un “talento prezioso”, lo spinse verso una formazione più accademica. L’incoraggiamento della madre lo condusse all’Institut Saint-Luc di Bruxelles, dove si immerse nelle Arti Plastiche. Qui, lo studio rigoroso dell’anatomia e delle opere di maestri come Leonardo da Vinci e Albrecht Dürer gli fornì una comprensione fondamentale della forma e dell’espressione. La sua dedizione alla maestria si consolidò ulteriormente all’Académie Royale des Beaux-Arts, dove ottenne un certificato di passaggio in incisione su rame “con lode”.

Il successivo trasferimento a Parigi segnò un periodo di impegni diversificati. Inizialmente, Vereycken si dedicò al giornalismo e all’editing per una pubblicazione non-profit, ma il richiamo dell’arte rimase insistente. Tornò così alle sue radici artistiche, esplorando inizialmente le antiche tecniche pittoriche e ricreando le opere dei grandi maestri con la tempera all’uovo preparata a mano e i metodi tradizionali a olio. Questo periodo, sebbene arricchente per la scoperta tecnica, si rivelò difficile dal punto di vista espositivo, poiché le opere trovavano nuovi acquirenti prima che potesse presentarle al pubblico. Ciò lo portò a concentrarsi nuovamente sull’acquerello e sulla meticolosa arte dell’acquaforte, mezzi espressivi che sarebbero diventati centrali nella sua pratica.

Il suo costante impegno nel perfezionare le proprie abilità è evidente nel suo continuo dialogo con la comunità dell’incisione in Francia. Come membro della Fédération nationale de l’estampe, Vereycken ha affinato la sua abilità tecnica presso l’Atelier63 e ha ulteriormente perfezionato la sua arte nel laboratorio di stampa di Montreuil, fondato dall’incisore danese Bo Halbirk. Questo viaggio, dalle vibranti strade di Anversa ai poli artistici di Bruxelles e Parigi, sottolinea una ricerca dell’eccellenza durata tutta la vita e una passione radicata per il potere intramontabile della creazione artistica.

“Sublimart”: l’arte della metafora paradossale

La produzione artistica di Vereycken è descritta al meglio dal termine da lui coniato, “sublimart”, una fusione di “sublime” e “arte”. Questo neologismo racchiude il suo approccio unico: un’arte figurativa che impiega metafore paradossali per elevare l’anima a un livello sublime. La sua opera non riguarda la bellezza superficiale o la narrazione diretta, ma la costruzione di paradossi visivi che fungono da portali verso una comprensione più profonda. “Rendere visibile l’invisibile”, come lui stesso afferma sinteticamente, è la forza motrice delle sue creazioni. Raggiunge questo obiettivo non attraverso un simbolismo convenzionale o una rappresentazione diretta, ma intrecciando elementi disparati in un modo che sfida la percezione e stimola la contemplazione.

I materiali e le tecniche che utilizza principalmente – acquaforte, pittura, olio e acquerello – sono impiegati con mano sapiente. L’acquaforte, con la sua precisione intrinseca e le linee complesse che consente di tracciare, è particolarmente adatta alla sua esplorazione di significati stratificati. Il processo dell’acquaforte richiede pazienza e un’azione deliberata, rispecchiando la costruzione ponderata delle sue metafore concettuali. La sua dedizione alle tecniche classiche, unita a una sensibilità moderna, gli permette di infondere nelle sue opere figurative una profonda risonanza emotiva e intellettuale. Ogni opera è un dialogo accuratamente orchestrato tra forma e concetto, che invita lo spettatore a intraprendere un personale viaggio di scoperta.

I fondamenti tematici del lavoro di Vereycken non sono perseguiti consapevolmente, ma emergono piuttosto in modo organico dal suo confronto con il mondo e dalle sue esplorazioni artistiche. Cerca di “scioccare il pubblico mostrando che nulla è più ‘moderno’ e ‘rivoluzionario’ dell’arte ‘classica’”. Tuttavia, la sua definizione di arte classica è tutt’altro che rigida o accademica. Per Vereycken, essa rappresenta una “scienza della composizione basata su metafore non ciniche, liberatorie, ironiche e poetiche”. Queste metafore, a suo avviso, sono le chiavi fondamentali di ogni forma d’arte, sia essa visiva o musicale. Il suo approccio si fonda sulla comprensione che l’arte è un “dono” profondo dell’artista allo spettatore, un atto d’amore che promuove la connessione e l’esperienza condivisa.

Una visione di illuminazione artistica

Jardin d’Argenteuil, 2025.

Gli sforzi artistici di Karel Vereycken sono intrisi di un profondo senso di scopo, che va oltre la creazione di oggetti esteticamente piacevoli. Considera il suo lavoro come una forma di “attività didattica”, una “guerriglia intellettuale umanistica” volta a risvegliare negli spettatori nuove dimensioni della percezione. Pur riconoscendo l’importanza delle vendite per portare avanti la sua ricerca artistica, la sua motivazione ultima non risiede nell’assecondare il gusto popolare, ma nel facilitare una connessione più profonda con lo spettatore. Si sforza di rendere l’arte una “finestra” su mondi che le persone riconoscono intuitivamente come significativi, ma ai quali spesso è stato negato l’accesso.

Il suo impegno verso questa visione è esemplificato dai suoi sforzi per condividere la sua conoscenza e la sua passione. Ha condotto numerose visite guidate in importanti istituzioni artistiche come il Louvre di Parigi, i musei di Anversa, Bruxelles o Francoforte, la Pinacoteca di Brera a Milano, la Gemäldegalerie di Berlino e il Metropolitan Museum di New York. Queste esperienze immersive sono state documentate e alcune registrazioni audio sono disponibili sul suo sito web, permettendo a un pubblico più vasto di beneficiare delle sue intuizioni. La sincera gratitudine che ha ricevuto, con persone che hanno espresso il loro stupore per la profondità con cui le idee possono essere trasmesse attraverso la pittura, sottolinea l’impatto del suo approccio pedagogico.

Guardando al futuro, la traiettoria di Vereycken continua a essere segnata da una partecipazione attiva e dal desiderio di ampliare il proprio raggio d’azione. Dopo essere stato presentato in formato digitale ad ARTEXPO a New York e ad ARTSHOPPING al Carrousel du Louvre a Parigi, continua a essere attivo sulle piattaforme dell’arte contemporanea. Dopo la vittoria del “Premio Monna Lisa” e la successiva mostra alla Galerie Mona Lisa di Parigi, il suo obiettivo rimane quello di condividere la sua arte trasformativa. La prospettiva di una mostra in El Salvador per SUMARTE 2026 testimonia le sue aspirazioni internazionali e un impegno costante nel rendere la sua prospettiva unica accessibile a un pubblico globale. Il suo lavoro attuale, come l’opera concettualmente ricca “Stairway to Heaven”, dimostra la sua continua esplorazione nel coniugare diverse ispirazioni visive – in questo caso, i paesaggi delle Montagne Gialle cinesi con la tradizione paesaggistica fiamminga – per creare potenti metafore del viaggio umano.

L’arte di Karel Vereycken è una testimonianza del potere intramontabile della curiosità intellettuale, della maestria tecnica e di una profonda fiducia nella capacità dell’arte di illuminare lo spirito umano. Attraverso la creazione di metafore paradossali, ci invita a guardare oltre la superficie, a entrare in contatto con le correnti invisibili di significato che modellano la nostra esistenza. La sua opera è un promemoria essenziale del fatto che la vera maestria artistica non risiede solo in ciò che si vede, ma in ciò che si sente, si comprende e, infine, si svela.

Per entrare in contatto con Karel Vereycken ed esplorare il suo affascinante lavoro, visitate il suo sito web e i suoi canali social:

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