Woman in Blue Reading a Letter – a beautiful, private, boring moment.

Article by Kristen Schweizer

Everything I know about Dutch painter Johannes Vermeer can be found on Wikipedia and in the historical fiction novel Girl with a Pearl Earring and the young adult novel Chasing Vermeer. However, that information was enough for me to feel classy when I bought a reproduction of his painting Woman in Blue Reading a Letter for my San Diego State college dorm.

I would glimpse at her as I rushed in and out to class, and feel a smug thrill of self-satisfaction for having her rather than my roommate’s Bob Marley poster. The woman in blue waited patiently, and we lived together like acquaintance roommates.

When I married, I shoved the never-framed print into file box of other 8.5×11 prints, certificates and photos – which now sit in my basement and I have not thought of her again till last Wednesday.

Wednesday evening I found myself at the front steps of the Timken Museum of Art. The Timken always offers free admission, making it a welcoming must-stop for anyone who finds themselves in Balboa Park, but I was purposely dawdling. Inside the doors, and continuing to hang there until September 11, 2015, is the original, 350 year old Woman in Blue Reading a Letter.

When I finally went inside I then stalled in the lobby, because I had no idea what I was going to write yet. It was easy to dither because the Timken knows how to throw a party. Their opening reception for the Vermeer painting included live news cameras covering the unveiling, a full guest-list and a gorgeous catering spread. Donors and art lovers mingled, observing the art, each other and the grandness of the evening while waiting their turn in The Room The Vermeer Was Hanging In. Listening to their educated whispers, I felt blasé to brushstroke.

When I could stall no longer, in I went and… she greeted me like I was coming home. I could wax rhapsodic on the invisible brushstrokes, or the linseed oil based blues, or the construction of objects. I could guess on what the map, pearls and other symbolic props mean. However, my first thought was “nothing is happening in this painting.”

I never noticed this in a print because everyone has a color printer now, and we make wasteful pictures daily. However, as a painting, the expertise overcomes the subject. A master painting takes too much time for noncommittal moments – one looks for the purpose behind the devotion.

Yet, there is no obvious reason why this painting happened. She is pregnant, but it’s not celebrating her maternity. She is reading a letter, but we don’t know who SHE is nonetheless who the letter could be from. Even the setting is boring; it was painted in his house! She has no expression of joy or sorrow. It is a private, boring moment.

Now I was stuck. I had nothing to say and I refuse to write a history lesson when so many better writings on Vermeer and this work exist already.

Luckily, the Timken’s effervescent PR beauty was next to me. We chatted about her work and mine, the Timken’s successful party, and then her children. Two twin girls, age five, and starting school. During one story she recalled catching her daughters taking each other’s hands, and holding them through morning flag salute at school.

Ah.

The click.

Johannes Vermeer did not have a camera in 1663. No one did. For that reason, public, quiet life is largely ignored in history. The smallest moments could only exist in ones’ mind, and as we all know – not much stays there in true detail. Vermeer captured a woman in a moment that could have, would have, fallen in to the ashy cracks of history and he did it with the mastery reserved for kings and nobleman.

Woman in Blue Reading a Letter is important because it is one of the few examples of greatness within normalcy. We save the wedding china for guests, we dust – rather than light – our expensive candles, we save our sincere compliments for birthday cards. Despite our careful hording for “special times,” it is catching our daughters holding hands, or our husbands’ washing the dishes while humming, that best show the love we were saving the expensive champagne for. By dedicating himself to a simple moment, he gives us, centuries later, a reminder to celebrate our own.

You may come to a different conclusion when you meet her. Everyone does. That is the brilliance of Vermeer.