I see process and potential symbolized throughout this painting. To the upper left we have a wicker basket in which the bread was brought home from the market. The open milk pitcher, its interior directly facing the viewer, is in the middle left of the picture but the final symbol of potential, the cup, within a former tea crate, is in the lower right.
What I sense may be alluded to here is a passage of time from past (basket), present (jug) and future (cup). This sequence allows the eyes to naturally move from upper left to lower right, from the heights of heaven (where all blessings of food originate) to the realms of the world below it, suggesting the path of a sunbeam (especially since the window is also in the upper left).
Normally the focus of interest in historical painting has been found in the center to center right of vision. The left (or sinister) has been associated with imbalance and unrest. Why did the painter then lavish so much attention on this side?
My guess is that he wanted to show the progress of creation, of forward motion, in such a way that it ends up on the right side, that change and progression lead to the future.
Notice, too, that the cup is almost entirely hidden away, a seemingly insignificant piece of the scene. This may be the view that because the future is unknown it’s hidden from us.
Finally the rich use of blue in the gentle folds of the woman’s garment, the peaceful concentration of her face and the care given to ensure none of the liquid is wasted in spills suggests mother, possibly the Virgin, nurturing her young in addition to creating food for herself and her husband.
The gradation of deep blue to the gold in her upper garment to the white of her wimple gives a sense of stability to the painting as well as implies an upward flow of energy, possibly thanks, towards the source of all she’s received, bringing the eye naturally back to the window and thus the sky.
It’s almost as though the painter here is depicting a devout form of prayer, of thanks, for the food about to be eaten.
This is a really interesting interpretation, Thomas. Thank you for sharing such a detailed insight into your observations and the possible symbolic elements you’re seeing too. I’m sure other readers will enjoy reading your comment today.
You said everything, beautifully, on this piece. With Vermeer you get a sense also in his paintings of a man taking his time, slowly and thoughtfully considering every detail, no sense of being in a rush ever, and I feel that energy transfers to the viewer. We always take our time, usually in silence, to absorb every detail, just as I imagine he painted.
Oh and what is the purpose of the box on the floor? It’s the prettiest mouse trap I have ever seen⁉️
Thank you George for honing in on specific parts of
Vermeer’s painting. The detail is sublime and almost looks like a photograph instead of a painting. It brings me a sense of tranquility. I, myself have that feeling especially when I’m baking.
The milk, the weave on the basket, and even the soot on the window panes. The exquisite details are the painting. And yes, her thoughtful expression evokes feelings of love or at least a tenderness that we can appreciate and wonder what or whom she's thinking about. And as always, George, you bring us to these reveals so lovingly, giving us little crumbs to discover. Thank you!
I love this painting so much. The detailing and the "movement" in the running milk is just inexplainable. I remember seeing this at the Rijksmuseum and my jaw dropping. This image is alive. As someone who love simplicity and the mundane daily things, it rarely gets better than this. There is so much art in the daily. Yet another beautiful text, George.
I gasped when I saw the subject of today's essay - I viewed this painting at the Riksmuseum several years ago and fell head over heels. It has some kind of magical magnetic power that cannot be dispelled! Thanks so much for bringing it back into my life today, George. Wonderful essay and comments as well.
Many of the same feelings, Maureen, about Pierre-Edouard Frere’s The Little Cook, 1858, which I had the great food fortune to study recently at the Portland Art Museum.
In a deeply shaded kitchen environment, a tiny girl sits on a little bench while stirring a pot with a ladle more than half her size. A voluptuous pile of root vegetables and large leafy cabbages sits on the floor behind her, the detail of which is remarkable.
The viewer imagines her working class life and its simplicity.
Observing great art changes the chemistry of the observer.
9 hrs ago·edited 9 hrs agoLiked by George Bothamley
Great piece George, The Milkmaid is one of my absolute favorites! I worked as an art model for many years and every time someone says "I wonder what the subject of this portrait was thinking," I can't help but think the answer is something along the lines of "Can I put my arms down now? This is hard."
This comment really made me smile. I can only imagine the world of difference between the thoughts of the model in a painting, and of the character they are supposed to portray! (And admittedly, that jug doesn't exactly look light weight, does it!)
Lovely essay George. 👏 Looking at a painter like Vermeer and others who calmly and quietly reveal the luminous essence of the "thing itself" is like a master class in mindfulness.
So lovely to read your thoughts along with all the comments. This painting has been a special favorite of mine for many years, especially when my children were small. The image of doing simple everyday work with love and tenderness still speaks to me.
Before visiting the Rijksmuseum’s celebration of the 350th anniversary of Vermeer’s birth last year I read the museum's article (I'm guessing you did too) of the discovery of the previously unknown underpainting of the Milkmaid that included a jug holder and a fire basket the artist painted out of his final version of the work.
I'm no qualified expert but I think his decision was sound.
Yes, I think I remember that being mentioned in the exhibition film on the Vermeer Exhibition too. (I wasn’t lucky enough to go visit the actual show, sadly!)
But I agree with you that it seems he made the right decision.
The many interpretations of Vermeer’s purpose ring true for me, yet what rivets me is the astonishing textural detail—chipped paint on the windowsill, the grain of the bread, the crisp white cap, the nubbled surface of the jug, the foam on the milk. One could go on. This allegorical painting is deeply rooted in the transient pleasures of the world.
I see process and potential symbolized throughout this painting. To the upper left we have a wicker basket in which the bread was brought home from the market. The open milk pitcher, its interior directly facing the viewer, is in the middle left of the picture but the final symbol of potential, the cup, within a former tea crate, is in the lower right.
What I sense may be alluded to here is a passage of time from past (basket), present (jug) and future (cup). This sequence allows the eyes to naturally move from upper left to lower right, from the heights of heaven (where all blessings of food originate) to the realms of the world below it, suggesting the path of a sunbeam (especially since the window is also in the upper left).
Normally the focus of interest in historical painting has been found in the center to center right of vision. The left (or sinister) has been associated with imbalance and unrest. Why did the painter then lavish so much attention on this side?
My guess is that he wanted to show the progress of creation, of forward motion, in such a way that it ends up on the right side, that change and progression lead to the future.
Notice, too, that the cup is almost entirely hidden away, a seemingly insignificant piece of the scene. This may be the view that because the future is unknown it’s hidden from us.
Finally the rich use of blue in the gentle folds of the woman’s garment, the peaceful concentration of her face and the care given to ensure none of the liquid is wasted in spills suggests mother, possibly the Virgin, nurturing her young in addition to creating food for herself and her husband.
The gradation of deep blue to the gold in her upper garment to the white of her wimple gives a sense of stability to the painting as well as implies an upward flow of energy, possibly thanks, towards the source of all she’s received, bringing the eye naturally back to the window and thus the sky.
It’s almost as though the painter here is depicting a devout form of prayer, of thanks, for the food about to be eaten.
This is a really interesting interpretation, Thomas. Thank you for sharing such a detailed insight into your observations and the possible symbolic elements you’re seeing too. I’m sure other readers will enjoy reading your comment today.
You said everything, beautifully, on this piece. With Vermeer you get a sense also in his paintings of a man taking his time, slowly and thoughtfully considering every detail, no sense of being in a rush ever, and I feel that energy transfers to the viewer. We always take our time, usually in silence, to absorb every detail, just as I imagine he painted.
Oh and what is the purpose of the box on the floor? It’s the prettiest mouse trap I have ever seen⁉️
Thank you George for honing in on specific parts of
Vermeer’s painting. The detail is sublime and almost looks like a photograph instead of a painting. It brings me a sense of tranquility. I, myself have that feeling especially when I’m baking.
Absolutely. That photographic quality in such small details is really amazing, isn’t it.
And it’s nice to know you feel the work captures that familiar sort of tranquillity.
The milk, the weave on the basket, and even the soot on the window panes. The exquisite details are the painting. And yes, her thoughtful expression evokes feelings of love or at least a tenderness that we can appreciate and wonder what or whom she's thinking about. And as always, George, you bring us to these reveals so lovingly, giving us little crumbs to discover. Thank you!
Wonderful observations on all those little details, Maureen. I’m glad to know you enjoyed the article today.
I love this painting so much. The detailing and the "movement" in the running milk is just inexplainable. I remember seeing this at the Rijksmuseum and my jaw dropping. This image is alive. As someone who love simplicity and the mundane daily things, it rarely gets better than this. There is so much art in the daily. Yet another beautiful text, George.
As someone who also loves finding beauty in the more simple things,, I am totally with you on all of this.
Really glad to know you enjoyed the article. Thank you for reading.
A simple, yet beautiful painting. Thank you for writing about it. You bring me new insights on art.
I gasped when I saw the subject of today's essay - I viewed this painting at the Riksmuseum several years ago and fell head over heels. It has some kind of magical magnetic power that cannot be dispelled! Thanks so much for bringing it back into my life today, George. Wonderful essay and comments as well.
Ahh, thanks Melanie! I’m really happy that you enjoyed it, especially in being such an admirer of this work already.
Many of the same feelings, Maureen, about Pierre-Edouard Frere’s The Little Cook, 1858, which I had the great food fortune to study recently at the Portland Art Museum.
In a deeply shaded kitchen environment, a tiny girl sits on a little bench while stirring a pot with a ladle more than half her size. A voluptuous pile of root vegetables and large leafy cabbages sits on the floor behind her, the detail of which is remarkable.
The viewer imagines her working class life and its simplicity.
Observing great art changes the chemistry of the observer.
Great piece George, The Milkmaid is one of my absolute favorites! I worked as an art model for many years and every time someone says "I wonder what the subject of this portrait was thinking," I can't help but think the answer is something along the lines of "Can I put my arms down now? This is hard."
This comment really made me smile. I can only imagine the world of difference between the thoughts of the model in a painting, and of the character they are supposed to portray! (And admittedly, that jug doesn't exactly look light weight, does it!)
Lovely essay George. 👏 Looking at a painter like Vermeer and others who calmly and quietly reveal the luminous essence of the "thing itself" is like a master class in mindfulness.
Thanks, I’m glad you enjoyed it. And I totally agree about these works being a master class in mindfulness!
So lovely to read your thoughts along with all the comments. This painting has been a special favorite of mine for many years, especially when my children were small. The image of doing simple everyday work with love and tenderness still speaks to me.
I’m happy to know you enjoyed the article, Ann. And so lovely to hear about the personal significance this piece has for you too.
Before visiting the Rijksmuseum’s celebration of the 350th anniversary of Vermeer’s birth last year I read the museum's article (I'm guessing you did too) of the discovery of the previously unknown underpainting of the Milkmaid that included a jug holder and a fire basket the artist painted out of his final version of the work.
I'm no qualified expert but I think his decision was sound.
Yes, I think I remember that being mentioned in the exhibition film on the Vermeer Exhibition too. (I wasn’t lucky enough to go visit the actual show, sadly!)
But I agree with you that it seems he made the right decision.
She is making some dish-something that requires preciseness.
But that doesn't really matter-one can indeed look at it all endlessly.
Thank you, as always-thank you
Yes, indeed. That desire for preciseness really comes through in her work, and in Vermeer’s painting style too.
I always appreciate your kind and thoughtful comments. Thanks for being here.
🤍
The many interpretations of Vermeer’s purpose ring true for me, yet what rivets me is the astonishing textural detail—chipped paint on the windowsill, the grain of the bread, the crisp white cap, the nubbled surface of the jug, the foam on the milk. One could go on. This allegorical painting is deeply rooted in the transient pleasures of the world.