Portrait of a stout man

With its astonishingly fleshy appearance, this male head is presented in the compressed image field of the narrow panel. A bulging nose, numerous wrinkles and small scars, but in particular the pendulous jowls and heavy double chin, with its conspicuous five o’clock shadow give this picture a character which few modern
viewers find attractive – Max J. Friedländer perceived “the coarse and fatigued physicality of the model” as being imprinted by pure sensuality. This impression can hardly have corresponded to the original intention of this portrait, and whether this likeness revealed a crude personality in opposition to the presumed desires of
the sitter can readily be called into question. In the portrait, to be sure, the man’s pronounced physicality is not suppressed, but instead emphasised as characteristic, and its significance given emphasis. His corporeal mass, then, does not pertain solely to the sitter as an individual, but also to his status and eminence. His eyes have an
alert gaze that is meant to express qualities such as perceptiveness, and perhaps also powers of judgment. By no means does the face convey an impression of crudity. His features are instead suggestive of reticence, even gentleness.
The Portrait of a Stout Man differs from the majority of early Netherlandish portraits by virtue of its extremely tight, narrow framing and pale background. These elements combine to heighten the sitter’s presence even more. The white background – there are only three such instances in all of early Netherlandish painting, all of them from the circle of Rogier van der Weyden – superbly emphasises the contour of the head. It further strengthens the impression of lifelikeness, and perhaps also of clarity in the figurative sense. No attribute refers to the sitter’s social status. Only the dark-brown garment with fur trim and the bowl haircut, fashionable during the
early 15th century, point beyond his pure physiognomy. Clearly, this individual is depicted first and foremost as an individual personality, and not as the holder of the office or title. This speaks for the private character of the portrait, whose function may well have been fulfilled primarily within the family and among his descendants.
Understandably, his striking physiognomy has served as the stimulus to attempt to identify the sitter through other portraits. Many have been tempted to identify him as Robert, Seigneur de Masmines, who fell in battle in 1430 when serving as a military leader under Philip the Good, and whose likeness has been transmitted in
a drawing after a lost 15th century portrait (fig. left). There are however persuasive objections to this identification: Masmines seems imperious, if not brutal, and is moreover less portly; nor do the nose and eye areas correspond at all to the present portrait, while the mouth only resembles it to a limited degree. The only trait shared by both individuals is the massive double chin.
When it first became known, this striking likeness was attributed to the enigmatic Master of Flémalle, who is de facto a collective name for a number of different artists, and whose differentiation from Rogier van der Weyden remains problematical. Remarked upon frequently are certain features of this portrait that are reminiscent
of Rogier’s art. A link to Rogier is also suggested by the fact that this portrait head reappears in idealised form as Nicodemus in Rogier’s chef d’oeuvre, the great Descent from the Cross of circa 1435/40, now in Madrid. This panel may hence represent one of the earliest documents of the portraiture of Rogier and his circle. Stephan Kemperdick | 200 Masterpieces of European Painting – Gemäldegalerie Berlin, 2019