Professor Butter Beard and the “Tools” of Rembrandt van Rijn
“The intentions of a tool are what it does. A hammer intends to strike, a vise intends to hold fast, a lever intends to lift. They are what it is made for. But sometimes a tool may have other uses that you don't know. Sometimes in doing what you intend, you also do what the knife intends, without knowing.” - Philip Pullman, “His Dark Materials Trilogy: The Golden Compass”
He would enter with a bit of a growl. The sun would just be rising through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the restaurant, and I would immediately reach up to my portable radio, turn down the NPR morning report, attempt to brush the flour off my bearded face and wild ginger hair, and rush to somewhat organize my baking table. Peter was arriving.
The kitchen door would swing open and his commanding presence was immediately felt. The early chefs would choke out an overly optimistic “good morning” which would be returned with a subtle nod as he walked through, noticing everything without one turn of his head. His salt-and pepper curls would be packed tightly under his cap, his steaming coffee was firmly grasped in his right hand, and his kitchen whites smelled of fresh pine air. I would stand perfectly still, a Mona Lisa smile creeping onto my face as he passed and, ever so subtly, he would glance my way and I would witness a slight twinkle in his eyes.
It was the early 1990’s in Northampton, Massachusetts, and I was working as the baker in my first natural foods restaurant, navigating the restraints of no processed sugar, limited butter, and the use of only local, seasonal ingredients. It was Peter who became my mentor on this uncharted journey. He would taste and critique. Constantly remind me to “say exactly what you mean, Michael.” And he taught me about tools – both external and internal. I still hear him so clearly, “It’s a bad carpenter, Michael, who blames his tools.”
I see him now, over thirty years later, every time I visit with a Rembrandt self-portrait. The 17th century Dutch master obviously understood his available tools as well – both external and internal.
The social and economic climate within which Rembrandt worked was not an easy one for an artist. As a result of the Protestant Reformation, local Catholic churches no longer commissioned art. Instead, Rembrandt had to focus on commissions from private individuals. As well as a prolific artist, Rembrandt was also a compulsive collector of art, antiquities, props, tools and weapons and, despite his commercial success, these habits sometimes resulted in financial problems for the artist and his wife Saskia.
In the 1630s, Rembrandt’s technique began to be influenced by developments in Italian art, which reached the Netherlands via prints, particularly Caravaggio’s dramatic use of light and shade, known as chiaroscuro. Rembrandt developed a new way of describing faces focusing on intricate patterns of light and shade, which embodied his canvases with the impression of a living, thinking mind behind the face.
Rosily Roberts writes, “Rembrandt’s technique is one of the features that most stands him out from his contemporaries.” His works were characterized by thick paint which stands off the surface of the canvas (impasto) highlighting the brushstrokes and marks of the palette knife. He manipulated the heavy viscosity and slow drying time of oil paint to allow him to work in this way. As the thick paint would begin to solidify on the canvas, he would smear a bit with his finger or thumb, and at other times, use his wife’s sewing needle to scratch in individual strands of curling hair or impress pock marks into the skin.
Roberts continues, “The thick, rough surface of impasto paintings created almost the conditions of relief sculpture, and the reflecting light and shadows created by the ridges in the paint would be manipulated in order to extend the tonal range of the paint.” Highlights were made to look brighter, and shadows darker. Minutely worked impastos would also be used to depict wrinkly skin or the texture of intricately crafted surfaces such as fabrics or jewelry.
While the exact technique Rembrandt used when creating colors within his impastoed surfaces is unknown, it is believed that he built up thick layers of single-color opaque paint, allowing each layer to dry instead of mixing the paint on the surface while wet. After executing highlights in thick layers, he would wholly or partially wipe over these with thin paint used as a glaze. “The result,” concludes Roberts, “is intimate, tender portraits which have a sense of immediacy and create the impression of really knowing the person behind the portrait.”
Peter knew. He instinctively knew what I needed to learn – both externally and internally. When preparing the ginger cream cheese filling for my springtime Danish, I know that the perfect texture can only by achieved by using a small food processor. It is a very specific knife that can slice through the skin of a fresh fig without tearing the interior flesh into shreds. And the delicate lattice pattern cut into the puff pastry can only be achieved with the use of one of my favorite baking tools – a lattice pastry roller. I’m still working on saying exactly what I mean, but Peter, my dear friend, every day I still aim to make you proud.
Fresh Fig and Ginger Cream Cheese Danish
One Dozen Danish
1 box Pillsbury Puff Pastry Sheets (two sheets), defrosted about 20 minutes, but still cold
6 fresh figs
Ginger cream cheese filling
Egg wash – one large egg whisked with 1 Tbsp water
Sanding sugar
Ginger cream cheese filling:
4 Tbsp granulated sugar
1 Tbsp fresh ginger (peeled)
8 ounces whole-fat cream cheese, cut into 1” squares
1 large egg
Pinch of fine sea salt
1 tsp vanilla paste
1) Make the ginger cream cheese filling: In a food processor, add the sugar and ginger. Pulse a few times to mix. Add the cream cheese, egg, salt and vanilla paste. Process until smooth, scraping the sides as necessary. Scrape into a small bowl and refrigerate until ready to use.
2) Preheat your oven to 425 degrees and line a full baking sheet with parchment paper.
3) Slice the stems off the figs and cut the figs in half vertically. Set aside.
4) Roll the first sheet of puff pastry into a rectangle 9” x 15”. Cut in half (9” by 7 ½”). Score each half into three rectangles. Using a pastry lattice roller, lattice the outer half of each rectangle. Brush the solid half with a light coat of egg wash. Place one Tbsp of the filling in the center and top with a fig half (cut side up). Fold the lattice top over and use your finger to seal the edges. Place the Danish on the prepared baking sheet. Repeat with the second sheet of puff pastry.
5) Lightly brush the top of the Danish with egg wash and sprinkle with sanding sugar. Bake on the center rack for 15 minutes, rotate the pan, and bake for another 6-8 minutes until golden brown and the fig juice starts to bubble. Cool on the pan for five minutes and then remove the Danish to a wire rack to cool another ten minutes before serving. The cream cheese filling will be hot!
