As a genre of painting, the Dutch still life emerged around 1600 as the result of several historical processes. In this period Protestantism spread through the northern Netherlands. Unlike the Catholic Church, the Protestant Church did not encourage adorning churches with images of saints, and demand for religious subjects declined. For a long time the Catholic Church had been a key patron of painting; in the new reality, artists had to look for other subjects and other buyers. They didn’t have to wait long. A prosperous urban middle class—the burghers—was taking shape in the Netherlands, and they became the principal patrons of art. Their taste leaned toward secular, earthly motifs: household objects, food, flowers. Thus in the seventeenth century still life—stilleven, “silent life”—spread widely in Holland.
Dutch still life is distinguished by astonishing detail and meticulous rendering of texture, light, and atmosphere. The finesse of execution and hyperrealism continue to astonish viewers. These pictures celebrate the beauty of simple things; yet they are not merely flat imprints of reality and often carry hidden philosophical meanings. Artists used a secret language of symbols to remind viewers of the transience of life, the fleeting nature of earthly pleasures and worldly glory, and of hope for salvation and eternal life.
One of the outstanding Dutch painters of the 17th–18th centuries was the still-life master Jan van Huysum (1682–1749). His contemporaries called him the “Raphael of Flowers” for his special devotion to floral subjects. Van Huysum’s works are marked by harmonious, finely balanced composition. He worked from preliminary sketches and could labor over a single painting for years, pursuing perfection in detail and color.
Among his best-known works is the painting Flowers (1722). Like other artists of the period, van Huysum embedded symbols and allegories pointing to timeless human questions. The flowers appear at different stages of bloom—from tightly closed buds to wilting petals—an image of the cycle of life. The lush blossoms, as if bursting from the confines of the composition, hint at the excesses of the material world—and their vanity; the fading flowers below remind us of the inevitable decline that follows the peak of bloom.
The almost inconspicuous bindweed placed at the center is no accident. For Dutch masters, wild field flowers could signify the immortality of a pure, innocent soul that brings order to the ceaseless chaos of the universe. The insects also carry meaning: the butterfly and ladybird stand for spiritual purity; the fly for transience and decay. Even the dewdrops on the petals are meaningful—a symbol of the brevity of the moment.
Built on meaningful contrasts, the still life reminds us how important it is to keep balance between the earthly and the heavenly, the spiritual and the material—perfectly encapsulating the famous Latin words carpe diem, memento mori.
You can see Jan van Huysum’s Bouquet of Flowers at the State Hermitage Museum; its mosaic replica is on view in the Museum of Florentine Mosaic in the St Petersburg gallery hall.
Gulsia Mustafina’s panel (workshop of N. Batretdinov) subtly and painterly reprises the Dutch master’s composition. The use of decorative stones—jasper and marble—adds striking depth and texture. The red jasper background, for example, convincingly evokes heavy, iridescent folds of velvet drapery. The color accents set by van Huysum are preserved in the mosaic: the blooming lily is rendered in bright red jasper, the bindweed flowers in pure-white cacholong and lapis lazuli.
