As the biggest ever show of the artist’s work is unveiled in Amsterdam, we retrace the enigmatic painter’s footsteps in Delft and also The Hague
Dodging the oncoming bikes, I climb a low mound a few feet above water level and look across at the city. It is a clear evening: the horizon holds a delicate tang of orange that ascends, becoming royal blue, then indigo. In front of me is a quay where a few boats are moored; beyond that, an expanse of water, and then the city itself, a smudge of bare trees, steep gables and church spires. It’s pleasant, but scarcely dramatic, and yet I think that this view changed the way my brain is wired. In about 1660 an artist came down here and painted what he saw. Johannes Vermeer was not a famous man then, nor would he be for more than 200 years, but that picture, View of Delft, would prove pivotal in art history.
Delft is a small Dutch city of about 100,000 people, just 40 miles south-west of Amsterdam. It was carved out of low-lying land in the 13th century, then grew into a centre for printing, pottery and, by the early 17th century, fine art. Perhaps it was the light that inspired the painters: those big northern skies reflected in the canals and the contrasting shady interiors filled with men in black hats and women with pale, enigmatic faces.
