Radiant Angel

"Mother!" her daughter stopped her in a pleading voice.

"Dear Maria, today is a celebration—the betrothal of Jan and Catharina, so let us rejoice and congratulate the young couple!" Leonaert said with feeling. "Jan, present the ring to your fiancée as a token of betrothal, and later I will present the gifts. Dears, be happy!"

"Thank you," the groom replied, trying to hide his agitation. "I wish to inform you," he turned to Maria, "that I have converted to Catholicism and see no great difference between Protestants and Catholics: God is one. Catharina and I will be married in the same church where you once baptized her. And we will baptize our future children there as well. Leonaert and I will now also be parishioners of the same church, since he is a Catholic."

"That is gratifying to hear," Maria said reservedly.

"We will celebrate the wedding at my house," Jan continued. "I know what a treasure you are entrusting to me, and I will try to justify your trust. My mother could not come today due to an indisposition and offers her apologies. She asked me to convey that she gives her blessing to our marriage."

"It will not be easy for Jan to combine creativity and family chores, and his loved ones must realize this," Leonaert hastened to explain.

"You are right, I have thought about that too," Maria replied. "I will have to help the young couple, otherwise they will not manage."

Her words sounded somewhat unexpected to those around her. This strong, perceptive woman involuntarily commanded respect from Jan and Leonaert.

"I love your daughter and will do everything to make her happy," the artist assured her.

Maria's face smoothed out and brightened, as if touched by a sunbeam, and her eyes warmed. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

"May God be with us!" Leonaert Bramer exclaimed softly.

As for Jan and Catharina, they were so absorbed in one another that they no longer noticed anything around them. They exulted: the wedding would be soon, the beginning of a new life, and everything lay ahead of them!

Chapter 2: The Life of the Young Couple in the "Mechelen" House

After the wedding, Catharina moved into her husband’s house, the "Mechelen," on the market square. The young couple was overwhelmed by the happiness of love, and everything for them was warmed and colored by this feeling.

Catharina fluttered about the house like a bird, and no household chore was a burden to her. She constantly cared for the cleanliness and adornment of her dwelling and, trusting no one else, took pleasure in bringing order and beauty to it herself.

The house was spacious, and there was much work to be done, but Vermeer could not afford to hire a servant. The inn and the tavern—everything he had inherited from his father—did not yield a large income. The chores associated with the tavern business were taken on by the artist's mother, Digna Baltens, and his elder sister Gertruyd, who lived in another part of the same house, trying not to disturb the newlyweds as they managed their own household. Jan was still an apprentice, so he and Catharina lived quite modestly.

In the morning, as was usual, the young wife had already gone to the market with her basket and selected small but fresh cuts in the meat and fish rows, buying a few things in the vegetable stalls as well. Returning home, she immediately began to cook, wishing to please Jan with delicious dishes.

"Ah, I forgot to get ginger and cinnamon," she realized. "No matter, there is still a little left."

A gentleman came to see Jan, and they were conversing in the workshop. Catharina saw that the visitor had not come empty-handed but with paintings, meaning he had brought something for sale or had appeared for a consultation regarding the authenticity of canvases (in addition to painting, Jan engaged in appraising, buying, and selling pictures). The woman was filled with pride for her husband: people turned to him for advice; he was valued.

While Jan conducted negotiations with the unfamiliar visitor, Catharina chatted with a neighbor who had dropped in to exchange a few words about chores and the weather. Having treated her guest to a freshly baked pie, the hostess lamented that lunchtime was approaching, yet her husband's meeting with the visitor was dragging on. The neighbor soon ran off, as something was boiling in her kitchen too.

Jan and the guest emerged from the workshop, concluding their conversation on the move. The stranger bowed quickly and departed, and just as Catharina wanted to ask her husband who it had been, she noticed a cat running out of the pantry next to the kitchen with a large piece of fish in its teeth. Catharina clapped her hands in dismay, while Jan laughed:

"Our cat has an excellent lunch today!"

"I'll catch her and pull her tail!"

"My dear, you love her so much that you won't touch her with a finger; you only threaten."

He embraced his wife, and they stood still for a second in this tender pose.

"How is our little one?" Jan asked, stroking his wife's belly.

"Growing, kicking," she smiled.

"It is already autumn outside, time flies, and in the winter our firstborn will be born..."

"I want us to have many children," Catharina said softly.

"I am certain that is how it will be."

"Sweetheart, it is time for you to have lunch and go see Fabritius. You haven't forgotten that you have a meeting scheduled?"

"Of course I haven't forgotten."

"I am setting the table. Today we have pea soup with plums and ginger, and for the main course—veal tongue with green apples. I also baked a pie. What shall I prepare tomorrow?"

"Whatever you prepare—I always like everything."

While Catharina arranged the plates, Jan walked about the room.

"We already have one canvas by Fabritius," he said thoughtfully. "I want to acquire a few more—not for sale, but for the soul, for myself. Carel is painting something new right now and has invited us to look at these pieces."

"With pleasure! You know, I often look at that painting you bought from him and ponder: what is that musical instrument seller thinking about so deeply?"

"Thoughts about life: about the eternal and the fleeting. A remarkable canvas! On one hand—the silence of Delft, the deep reflections of a man—everything is like in a dream; on the other hand—one senses that the earth is round, everything is in motion, moving along a circular line. Life pulsates, softly and steadily... While working, Carel used a wide-angle lens, which is why the image of the city turned out so unusual, and this helps one feel its unique charm."

"That is very interesting, but sit down, otherwise the soup will get cold," Catharina reminded him.

"How deliciously everything smells!" Jan finally sat down at the table.

"I have long wanted to ask you, my dear, wasn't it from you that Carel painted this young man with the musical instruments? You look remarkably alike."

"It seems to me too that my features slip through in him, but I did not pose for Carel; he did not ask me to do so. I admire him—he is a master with a capital M, and it is a great honor for me to associate with him."

"And to me—you are the most extraordinary!"

"That is because you love me, my swallow."

"I truly do love you. And I also feel that you are not like everyone else. And I don't just feel it; I know it."

These words touched Jan to the depths of his soul.

Catharina began to serve the second dish. Jan, watching her, mused on something of his own.

"When I finish the painting Christ in the House of Martha and Mary, I will try my hand in a different direction," he said. "I will paint something on the theme of the prodigal son, with bright patches of color, and later—another piece. I will tell you about it now: a man and a woman are sitting at a table by an open window; they haven't seen each other for a long time—and lo, the joy of meeting! He is an officer or a sailor, a traveler; she is a woman beaming with happiness. That will be you, my radiant angel! You must pose for me. Pieter de Hooch has painted similar scenes more than once, but I want my painting to be downright magical in its mood!"

"You will succeed; it cannot be any other way," Catharina smiled and reminded her husband: "Don't forget about your food!"

"You will be my only muse," Jan said, looking with love at her face, slightly rounded from pregnancy. "And time will have no power over you."

"I think you will always paint only what touches your heart..." Catharina said thoughtfully.

"Absolutely. Remember I told you that I dream of painting our sky and the 'portrait' of our city? Well, recently I decided that I will also paint that little street located behind our house, with the almshouse for old women and the adjoining courtyard. But I work slowly; only when I feel that the work is completed can I stop—not before. And now it is time for me to go, my joy; I am late for my meeting with Carel."

Catharina rose quickly from the table:

"Jan, you ate almost nothing!"

"That's not true. Besides, we have the evening ahead of us, we will make up for everything," he kissed his wife and left through the courtyard.

She went out after him and, as always, admired his fleeting gait. The flaps of his cloak fluttering in the wind seemed to her like the wings of a bird.

Having washed the dishes and tidied up the linen closet, Catharina approached the harpsichord and placed sheet music on the music stand to practice some new pieces. In the evening, I will delight Jan with this beauty, she thought and touched the keys, but one of them responded with a slightly rattling sound. Oh dear, a string has slipped, the woman winced. In the evening, I will ask Jan to tighten it. For now, I will still play a little.

Finishing her music practice, Catharina decided to take a walk along the canal. She liked these walks—the splashing of the water, the movement of laden vessels, the cries of birds hunting for fish, the flight of clouds. She remembered how she and Jan had stood on the bridge on that first memorable date, and he had spoken of how he saw Delft, this water, and this sky. "There are things you do not see right away." She suddenly realized that she had begun to look at everything through his eyes—he had burst into her quiet world and colored it with a multitude of hues! Catharina thought almost with terror about what would have happened if she hadn't met him... How would she have lived? Grayly and monotonously, and she would never have been able to feel all that she felt now! Even for a fraction of this happiness, one could give up a great deal! And some people have no inkling that it is possible to love like this, to live like this... Each of my days is filled with meaning and light; I watch with emotion as a new world is born under my husband's brush, as he is overwhelmed with plans—and my heart exults!

Jan returned in the evening in high spirits. Catharina rushed into his arms.

"How is Fabritius? What is new with him?"

"I went to his place first, and then to a certain client. Fabritius invites you and me to visit this Sunday."

"Wonderful! And now let's sit down for dinner; the time has come. We have so much left over from lunch: tongue, pie, plus cheese and fruit. After dinner, I will play the new pieces for you, just tighten the string that rattles."

"Very well, I'm going to wash my hands. And when we have eaten, I will do everything."

Over dinner, the conversation turned to Fabritius.

"Carel's wife wanted to treat me to fried carp today, but I was full and declined," Jan said. "This is his second wife."

"Really? I didn't know that. What happened to the first?"

"I'll tell you now. At first, everything went well for Fabritius: he studied at Rembrandt's studio in Amsterdam, was his most talented pupil, then worked in the same city and married. But after some time, a cruel fate began to haunt Carel's family: their children died, and during the third childbirth, his wife died too. In despair, he returned to his native Middenbeemster and only after seven years married again and settled in Delft."

"What a difficult fate!"

"Yes, but fate did not manage to break him... He is incredibly talented and completely loses himself in his work. I watch how he works and learn from him. Unlike Rembrandt, Carel usually places the model against a slightly illuminated background and likes to work in a cold color palette."

"That is too complicated for me," Catharina said, serving Jan the fruit. "What is he painting now?"

"A self-portrait, the painting The Sentry, and a small, remarkable piece called The Goldfinch."

"What is this Goldfinch?"

"Well, you will see for yourself on Sunday. In each of his works lives a soul. A person and their connection to their surroundings are very important to him... And how his experiments in the impasto technique, with a rich brushstroke, admire me!"

"These are very abstruse things. I try to delve into it and understand at least something, but when I look at paintings, I judge them only with my feelings."

"That's perfectly fine! Thank you for dinner, dear. Now I will tighten the string, and you will play for me."

On Sunday, after the morning service at church, Jan and Catharina set off to visit the Fabritiuses.

The autumn turned out to be remarkably dry and warm. Crimson and bright yellow leaves swayed on the branches of trees, and in this fading beauty, there was something valedictory yet bright, like a promise of future rebirth. Falling, they carpeted the ground underfoot. Jan gathered a whole bouquet of them for Catharina. Her golden curls had slipped slightly from under her head covering during the walk; beads of sweat glistened on her forehead.

Carel and his wife, Agatha, were waiting for the guests at the threshold. The scattered rays of the autumn sun softly illuminated their silhouettes.

"We are very glad to see you!" they greeted the Vermeer couple.

The women, having introduced themselves, immediately felt a mutual liking. Agatha asked Catharina how she was feeling.

"Thank you for your concern, I am walking well, though the baby is restless," the guest replied, and then addressed the host: "I would like to see your paintings. My husband told me about them."

"Let us have lunch first, and then we will go into the workshop," Carel suggested.

"Of course," his spouse supported him. "The table is already set."

Continuing to converse, they all proceeded into the hall.

"Today is such a clear day," Vermeer said, helping his wife sit down at the table. "Autumn is remarkably warm this year. Catharina and I had a wonderful walk. Walks are good for her."

"Jan is so caring, I cannot rejoice enough." Catharina affectionately touched her husband's hand.

During lunch, she quietly observed Carel and Agatha, remembering Jan's story about his mentor's fate. Everything he had endured had left its mark on his appearance: in the simple, large features of his open face lived a kind of inexhaustible, deeply hidden sadness. Carel's wife was a simple, caring woman, an excellent homemaker, and a faithful companion. One felt a remarkable warmth in their relationship. This is exactly what Carel needs, Catharina thought.

At the table, they spoke of the weather, politics, and painting. They joked.

After lunch, the host led the guests into his workshop. Looking at his canvases, Catharina stood still. Jan stood behind his wife, putting his arms around her shoulders, and examined the paintings too, trying to see them through her eyes.

Carel's Self-Portrait told of what this man had lived through in his thirty-two years—a deep narrative in the spirit of Rembrandt.

The Sentry brought a smile to Catharina’s face. What a lifelike scene! A young soldier, still a mere boy, languid in the sun, had fallen asleep on duty, so deeply that he had splayed his legs and let his head slump onto his chest. A small black dog was watching him with surprise.

Then they approached a very small painting, the one Jan had spoken of. A yellow goldfinch looked from the canvas at Catharina with an intelligent, attentive, scrutinizing, and wary gaze. It seemed aware of its position as a prisoner, forever chained by its leg, the bitterness of its fate, its lack of freedom. It seemed that Fabritius himself was looking at the world through its eyes.

"I am simply at a loss for words," the guest whispered, pressing her hands to her chest.

"I will give you this painting as soon as it is finished," Carel said, noticing the impression The Goldfinch had made on Catharina. "And you may choose one more canvas for yourself."

"You would give us such gifts?" she could not believe it.

"Yes, yes. There will be several occasions for this: soon Jan will be accepted as a master into the Guild of Saint Luke, and then your firstborn will be born."

"You are very generous," Jan said, deeply moved, while the astonished Catharina just stood there, hands pressed to her chest.

A belated spring adorned the trees in delicate, shiny foliage and coquettish flowers. Catharina rejoiced at every leaf, every spring ray. She had become a mother, and with motherhood came new sensations—she began both to feel and to look at the world differently.

This was the first spring in the life of their little daughter, Maria, who was born in January. Catharina’s mother, Maria Thins, was happy to have become a grandmother and, in honor of the girl's birth, presented Jan Vermeer with three hundred guilders and another two hundred for Maria.

This evening, as often happened, she came to visit her daughter and son-in-law.