REMBRANDT REMAINS AN ENIGMA, THANK GOODNESS, HOWEVER HARD you try to explain the power of his artistic genius and the enchantment of his youth. Yet without the dedicated efforts, expertise and support of the following people, I would not have succeeded in coming close to that boy who grew up in my own city four centuries ago, and to write down his story.
There are many people to whom I owe a great debt of gratitude:
The spiritual fathers of Young Rembrandt, Gary Schwartz and Ernst van de Wetering, grands seigneurs of Rembrandt studies, both of whom dedicated over half a century of their lives to the painter, each in his own inimitable way. They invited me to their homes, read along critically and alerted me to pitfalls, provided valuable advice and constantly pointed me in the direction—sometimes opposing directions—of new possibilities and perspectives for continuing research on Rembrandt.
The archive tigers Piet de Baar and Kees Walle, from whom nothing in the history of Leiden remains hidden. Both were generous and indefatigable in their efforts to help me search, transcribe and analyse seventeenth-century documents on the city and on Rembrandt and his surroundings.
The people of Leiden who felt committed to the project and assisted me expertly and in a spirit of friendship: Ingrid Moerman for making available her archival documents and notes on Rembrandt, André van Noort of Erfgoed Leiden, Boy Heijnekamp, Ward Hoskens and Frieke Hurkmans of the Pieterskerk, Jeremy Bangs of the Leiden American Pilgrim Museum and Lucien Geelhoed and Martijn Bulthuis of Marketing Leiden.
Christiaan Vogelaar, “detto Il Corvo”, curator of Old Master art at the Museum De Lakenhal, was not in a position to support me as he did in the case of Stad van verf since he was immersed in writing his own book about the young Rembrandt. Nonetheless, he provided personal and moral support as a true friend. I should also like to thank Jef Schaeps, Mart van Duijn, Erik Weber and Kasper van Ommen for sharing their knowledge and showing me the gems in the treasury of Leiden University Library.
Leo Lucassen for his illuminating observations on immigration in Leiden in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, Paul Hoftijzer for clarifying the world of books in Rembrandt’s time and George Maat for allowing me to inspect his research on the graves in the Pieterskerk in Leiden. The eminent literary scholars Frans Blom and Ad Leerintveld for their insights into the world and thinking of Constantijn Huygens in the course of a glorious sunny day in The Hague. Jonathan Bikker for his personal guided tour of the works of the young Rembrandt in the Rijksmuseum, Peter Schatborn, former director of the Print Room of the Rijksmuseum, for his explanatory remarks on Rembrandt’s drawings.
My editor-in-chief at de Volkskrant, Chris Buur, who gave me a weekly column in which to report on my quest to follow the trail of the young Rembrandt. My expert English translator Beverley Jackson for what she warned might be “hysterical telephone calls” in which she constantly alerted me to details in my language and style that needed to be formulated with ever greater clarity.
The buzzing workers in the beehive of the De Bezige Bij publishing house: Francien Schuursma, Haye Koningsveld, Henrike de Goede, Pascalle Veltstra, Rutger Wilmink, Geurt Naber, Anne Kramer, Inky Menssink, Suzanne Holtzer, Marijke Nagtegaal and last but not least my inspired editor Aafke van Hoof, who helped to retain my faith in the book in hours of need.
Jan de Boer and Ingrid Vonk for the imagination with which they designed this book.
Willem Otterspeer, my doctoral supervisor, for sharing with me his astounding knowledge of Leiden, its university and its history. But above all for his dazzling good humour and outstanding conversation. My learned and empathic friend Wim Willems, who threw himself into the correction of my manuscript with such fervour that he injured his hand. My most severe and most loving critic, Marika Keblusek, for her caustic deletions of my unforgiveable errors of reasoning and slips of the pen.
My elegant Amsterdam friend Jan Six for sharing his boundless knowledge and love of Rembrandt and his doomed efforts to curb my passionate preference for Leiden.
My Maecenas, Bert van Eenennaam, for his unflagging, valuable and generous support. It still renders me speechless at times. Without Bert, Young Rembrandt would never have been written.
The “furious Wolkers widow” Karina, whom I called on the telephone every Monday morning to read out my column. I can always take refuge in her place on Texel.
Jochem Myjer, Alexander van Nimwegen, Menno Bentveld, Roland Mans, Richard van Leeuwen and all the guys at the coffee table at Borgman Borgman—roughly where Petrus Scriverius lived in Rembrandt’s day—for their patience during my absence over the past two years. When I did turn up, I was pelted with really, really bad jokes. Just as well. Among my Leiden friends, I would like to thank in particular the painter and photographer Casper Faassen, whose life has been dedicated to Rembrandt from the moment he drew The Night Watch on his bedroom wallpaper as a small boy. He kept a suspicious eye on me while I was writing about his hero. I regard his grumbles as an act of friendship.
My wider family: my brother Just and his family, and the “Suwi men”, to whom I have belonged for over twelve years, for their unconditional solidarity, support and love.
My parents, without whom I would not be full of love for Leiden, for literature, for art and history.
Without Donna, Flo, Julia and Sofie, my existence would not exist. Even so, they had to endure their father’s absence, day in, day out, while he was out hunting a ghost from the seventeenth century.
Finally: this book is for Lot, love of my life.