Life: beautiful but short
On the second floor of the KMSKA, just steps away from bustling tavern scenes and dramatic altarpieces, you enter a gallery where life literally comes to a standstill. Here you can admire the most exquisite 17th‑century still lifes from the museum’s collection. There are no people to speak of in these paintings. Instead, objects take center stage: lemons, grapes, platters, wine glasses, cheeses, oysters, tulips—motionless before the viewer, yet remarkably visible, tangible and almost edible. Every dish, flower and fruit is rendered with utmost refinement; each display and bouquet arranged ingeniously and lit temptingly. These paintings were created to be beautiful, to please the eye and stimulate the senses.
Blowing bubbles
Yet a closer look reveals subtle signs of decay: fruit beginning to rot, petals falling, cracks in the porcelain, somber hints. These details lend the works a moral undertone: they remind us that beneath all this opulence and beauty, rot is already setting in. “Vanitas vanitatum et omnia vanitas,” says the Preacher in the Bible—“Vanity of vanities, all is vanity,” or as the new Dutch translation puts it, “Air and emptiness, everything is emptiness.” This unyielding message of Ecclesiastes finds its most powerful expression in the so‑called vanitas still life, such as those by Franciscus Gijsbrechts (1649 – after 1677).
On a cluttered table lies an eclectic collection of symbolic objects. The message is clear: life is short and death inevitable. The skull at the center, the sandglass drained of sand, the dying candles, and the cracked marble table surface point to the passage of time and the transient nature of all things—even the hardest stone. Everything under the sun is nothing but air and the pursuit of wind. The pipe with tobacco and the musical instruments offer only fleeting pleasures. The royal proclamation with its seal and the globe symbolize power and wealth, while books, spectacles and writing tools stand for knowledge and wisdom—but even these have their limits. Just like beauty. Look at the soap bubbles to the left of the painting: how beautifully they rise, floating on air, without hurry or purpose. All you need to blow these lovely bubbles is a bit of soapy water in a mussel shell and a straw. Naturally, the bubbles carry meaning. Erasmus wrote about them, and already in antiquity, the Syrian Greek Lucian of Samosata referred to “Homo bulla”—man is a bubble. Fragile, fleeting and empty. As carefully as one leads one’s life, so suddenly it ends.
Christian faith in the Resurrection offers the only consolation for this sombre worldview. The ears of wheat encircling the skull symbolize this hope. Those who lead a virtuous and upright life will find their place in heaven. Forever.
This article previously appeared in ZAAL Z, the museum's magazine. For just €35, you’ll receive four issues that immerse you in the museum’s fascinating world and exceptional collection.
