The number of ways to describe Peter Paul Rubens, the famed artist of the 17th century who exemplified the Baroque style, seem unending. A man of nearly unbounded energy; sensual, artistic genius; effective diplomat; well-connected man of culture; husband, father, son. Rubens indeed lived a remarkable life. But there are other, less positive descriptions — particularly of his art — that have also been said of Rubens: over-the-top, vulgar, distasteful, and even gross.
In Rubens: An Extra Large Story, art critic and documentary maker Waldemar Januszczak sets out to counter these negative evaluations — especially as they concern certain modern strains of disinterest for Rubens’s art. As with so many of Januszczak’s films, he is here playing the role of ardent advocate for the subject of the documentary (which is not to say he’s playing it disingenuously).
The subtitle of the film is apt. Rubens not only created massively large pieces of art, but his personality was also outsized. Rubens was a “force of nature,” in Januszczak’s words, and he was bent on broadening his creative horizons throughout his long and versatile career.
Born in Westphalia, Rubens lived from 1577 – 1640, during a time that was unabatingly marked by war. The religious and political strife that he personally experienced from a young age remained in his life until the end. (In fact, he even directly engaged in the political world for a time, serving as a kind of ambassador and helping to establish a treaty between England and Spain.) But Rubens, of course, is most well known for his artwork, not his diplomacy skills, and the documentary (appropriately) focuses primarily on this side of him.
It’s somewhat of a disappointment, then, that a only a modest amount of information is given about Rubens’s early formative years as an artist: where he trained, where he traveled, with whom he studied, and similar details that help one get a sense for how an artist’s creative and intellectual roots begin to flourish.
But this aside, An Extra Large Story gives viewers a well-rounded look at an artist who did it all — massive paintings, tapestries, landscapes, architecture, and more — and with loads of passion, inventiveness, and energy.
Why is it, then, that nobody takes Rubens seriously anymore, as Januszczak posits at the beginning of the film? It’s an interesting matter — and no doubt an enticing way to start things off — though one develops a nagging suspicion during the film that Januszczak’s claim is perhaps a bit exaggerated.
In any case, one idea why Rubens’s work might not immediately appeal to us is that his not-so-skinny females — which populate so many of his paintings — don’t accord well with our notions of attractiveness. This line of reasoning, however, seems unlikely for a host of reasons, not least because there is plenty of (popular) modern art that depicts the human body in all kinds of less-than-flattering or idealistic ways.
But another idea: Rubens’s paintings — which are often chock full of symbols, narrative events, and myriad actions — can be a bit overwhelming for the impatient and distracted (and perhaps easily intimidated) modern mind. This seems perfectly plausible. Near the beginning of the film, Januszczak takes us into the Louvre to see the twenty one large and incredibly elaborate paintings that Rubens created for Mary de’ Medici; these certainly are not the kinds of works to be taken in in a hurried moment.
The same is true for so much of Rubens’s art — of which there was a mind-boggling amount. Indeed the output was so large that it scarcely seems possible he could have done it all without some help. And indeed he had some. Assistants at his bustling art studio would sometimes help complete large projects. Januszczak says that this is another aspect of Rubens that some of us may feel uneasy about — though Januszczak is quick to say that he is not such a person). There are arguments to be made for both sides of this matter, though unfortunately in making his own case Januszcazk equivocates in this scene of the film by speaking of assistance and collaboration as if they are the same thing.
But that point is ultimately a trivial matter. In this engaging, fun, and survey-like documentary of Rubens’s life, Januszczak’s goal is to stir up some interest in Rubens among a general audience. And to the extent that Rubens is in fact largely ignored by people these days, it does seem unfortunate. Rubens’s output was massive and varied — a kind of cornucopia of artistic offering. If one is put off by one aspect of his work, surely there is still so much else from Rubens’s brush that can satisfy and delight.
Spectatio 