Johannes Vermeer, "The Milkmaid," c. 1657–1658 , Oil on canvas, 45.5 cm × 41 cm (17? in × 16? in), Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam

The Metropolitan Museum of Art has always done a great job of putting together large scale exhibitions that appeal to the both the appeal to the masses as well as the  connoisseur.  Their most recent triumph came by of “The Milkmaid”, its recently concluded showcase of Jan Vermeer’s iconic painting along with several other works by him and his Dutch contemporaries.

This exhibition was the crowning piece of “NY400” a  series of events throughout NYC this year commemorating Henry Hudson’s discovery of the isle (then dubbed “Mannahatta”) in 1609, and the centuries of amicable relations between the Netherlands and the United States since. There was a fair amount of hype surrounding this show. The Milkmaid is a Dutch national treasure that is rarely lent out, and this was the only the second time it had been exhibited in the United States.

Vermeer's painting career on display at the Met

It was clearly evident that the Met had made deft preparations for such large-scale appeal.  Upon entering the traffic of the exhibition space (steered away to the museum’s southern wing), it was immediately jarring to see camera flashes taken of paintings go off. This is usually restricted, perhaps the Met put up a white flag in lieu of the onslaught of tourists. A visual compilation of all Vermeer’s known works  also served the public well.Several visitors could be seen milling  around this large wall display, which was almost as impressive as the paintings themselves.

Further insight  from the exhibition’s catalogue essay by Walter Liedtke, the Met’s curator of european paintings, provided plenty of stimulation for those with a more vested interest in the material. OMNP was amused by the story of “Minister Rink versus Uncle Sam,” a political cartoon underscoring a brief rivalry between the U.S. and the  Netherlands for ownership of  The Milkmaid.

Jan Rinke, “Minister Rink versus Uncle Sam”

Jan Rinke, the Dutch illustrator who published the strip in the November 9, 1907 edition of the newspaper Het Vaderland, depicts the patriotic U.S. icon of Uncle Sam as a seedy womanizer who crept his way  inside the abode of Vermeer’s famous female.

Who will rescue the milkmaid from Sam’s lecherous grasp? The Dutch Ministry of the Interior Pieter Rink, who appears in the subsequent caption. Amidst much heated debate, the indefatigable Rink was able to raise the sufficient government funds to keep The Milkmaid, which had been put up for sale by its inheritors, from falling into the hands of a wealthy American collector or museum.

What exactly has made this maiden so alluring over the years? It his her ambiguous identity. Vermeer created an affectionate portrayal of his ideal Dutch female, who  is both an an object of desire and a  humble, hard-working model of the merchant class.

Vermeer gives us visual clues to the milkmaid’s sexuality. A floor heater, conveniently placed near the underside of her dress, keeps her potent nether regions warm. Nearby we find a row of cupids posing as wall decorations, suggesting a domain of Eros. And what exactly is she pouring? That thick, globulous strand of white fluid dripping out of her jug doesn’t exactly look like it came from a cow .

Jan Steen, "The World Upside Down," c. 1663. Oil on canvas, 105 x 145 cm. Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna, Austria

This fall right in line with the artistic traditions of the Golden Age, which embraced scenes of amoral behavior and excess. This is what   has always made this era so charming over the course of centuries of art history. It was a refreshing revolt against the  heavy handed  religious  imagery that defined European  painting  in  the past. With a newly affluent group of tradesmen as clientele, Vermeer’s contemporaries like Frans  Hals and Jan  Steen didn’t have  to   answer to the  moral obligations of  the church for their commissions, and were afforded the liberty to depict the underbelly of Dutch society. Works like Steen’s “The World Turned Upside Down” or Hals’ “Shrovetide Revellers” a frolic of a trio of degenerates over a procuress are classic examples of this lighthearted approach towards debauchery.

Frans Hals, "Shrovetide Revellers," c. 1615, Metropolitan Museum Of Art, New York

What distinguishes Vermeer’s work however, is that it’s lewd subject matter isn’t full blown, but rather ambiguous. The milkmaid isn’t just a sex object,  she has a pensive and humble demeanor, whose downward glance remains steadfastly focused on the task at hand. This look away from our sights  incites the voyeur in us, but it also allows for her to be, as Liedtke put it:

“understood, like Calisto, Martha, the undutiful maid, and the letter reader in Vermeer’s earlier paintings, each of them with downcast eyes and busy imaginations. In the artist’s sympathetic view these women are all slightly guilty and at the same time entirely innocent.”

Jan Vermeer, "Woman in Blue Reading a Letter," c. 1662-1665, oil on canvas, 18 1/4 x 15 3/8 in., Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam