Girl With A Pearl Earring: Facts and Reflecting Upon My Own Interpretation

Happy New Year, my minute readership! The end of 2024 brought many trials and tribulations, unfortunately resulting in the neglect of Diotima. Playfully dubbed #2024theplot by the youths of TikTok, last year really did ring true to that nickname. Let us hope that 2025 rings true of #202thrive, particularly in regards to this blog.

During my absence from writing, I channeled my creativity and effort elsewhere, as you have likely assumed from the attached image. My grandfather, a prodigious painter, passed away towards the end of 2024. His entire house was adorned with not only originals, but exact copies of famous works by likes of Turner, Vermeer, and Perugini. Romanticism seemed to be his favourite art movement, a category that was ornate and softly painted, yet somehow simultaneously rejected social conventions. His copy of Vermeer's Girl With A Pearl Earring was a stand-out piece. It resided by the front door, greeting you with every arrival, and bidding you farewell with every exit.

Though our levels are incomparable, I have, to some extent, inherited his natural abilities. Though I have always been capable, I was never quite passionate enough, thus hindering my development. I had not painted or drawn in two and a half years (I fear A-Level art put me off, somewhat), but just couple of weeks before Christmas, I had an epiphany: to paint my own version of Girl With A Pearl Earring for my father's Christmas present. The very next day I had purchased oil paints, brushes (the wrong ones), linseed oil, and a canvas, and was researching the methods of the masters (underpainting). My lack of practice made this a daunting feat, particularly as I had never used oil paints before. It began rather questionably, but after many tweaks, layers, and hours of getting used to the medium, I eventually reached a point where I was somewhat satisfied.

In saying that, I was painting until the late hours of Christmas Eve. My inner perfectionist was dissatisfied that my version did not look exactly the same original, however expecting it do so was unrealistically ambitious. I think in looking at a project for far too long, we reach a point where all we see is flaws. Since taking a step away from it, I have accepted that my inexact copy is an good in it's own right - I am myself, not Vermeer. My faith in it was also boosted when I posted it to TikTok and somehow amassed 16,000 views, garnering the attention of the Mauritshuis museum in the process (the home of Girl With A Pearl Earring).

The biggest lesson I learnt from this was that good things can not be rushed, a philosophy applicable to many things, I think. The time I gave myself was just about achievable, and once time pressures increased, I began to make mistakes. And of course, I learn to be less self-critical. We are all our own worst critics. An apt example is Vergil's Aeneid. To me, that poem is a work of art - my copy is so well-loved and annotated that it has split in half. However, even after 11 years of writing, Vergil was still not finished, and upon his death requested that the poem be destroyed. One man's trash truly is another man's treasure.

To conclude, here are 5 facts about Girl With A Pearl Earring:

1. The painting is a tronie. This means that, unlike many portraits, there was no subject and she is completely fabricated. This was common among Dutch Golden Age painting. A tronie is characterised by ornate garments and an expressive face. Part of the mystique of Girl With A Pearl Earring is her expression - what was she feeling and experiencing in that moment?

2. The crucial pearl earring is the greatest example of Vermeer's technique. Rather than a three-dimensional pearl being painted in its totality, it is an illusion created by two masterful brush strokes of white paint.

3. The 'suggestive' gaze and symbolism of pearls have created much sexualising speculation around the painting. Although, it seems that with every piece of art I research or analyse where the subject is a woman, there is a reported 'sexual element.' While this seems absurd, I assume the artists may have had this in mind - after all, the creative sphere has been known for its promiscuity throughout history. To introduce a classical element (very me), some scholars like to reference Pliny the Elder's Naturalis Historia to support the argument that the pearl is inherently provocative. Pliny's literature detailed how the sensation of smooth, cold pearls swinging against the skin would have pleased women physically as well as visually. It is suggested that, to the Romans, jewellery was more than just ornamental, it was intimate and enticing; a woman's method of peacocking.

4. The seemingly black background was originally dark green, but has faded over the centuries. With the fading, other details were lost. While it may appear to be a blank space in the background, a mere solid colour thought to be suitable by Vermeer, the development of technology has led to the discovery that the background is in fact a green curtain. I find that this make much more sense. Surely the creator of a masterpiece would put as much thought into the background as the foreground?

5. Tracy Chevalier was inspired by the painting to such a degree that she wrote a novel of the same name, published in 1999. She has the plot figured out in just three days, and had the entire book written within eight months. The novel was so acclaimed that by 2003 it had been adapted into a film starring Scarlett Johansson and Colin Firth. The film went on to be nominated for three Academy Awards.

A review of the novel Girl With A Pearl Earring is coming soon...