Most of the images, drawn by me for my book, were based on authentic works, drawings and engravings by the artist, or known graphic works which preserved his work in engravings by other artists. G. de Boulonois’s engraving, which greets me every time I enter and leave the house, finally prompted me to illustrated My Life with Berti Spranger.
After decades of practice, producing pen and brown ink drawings of Spranger’s art was not terribly difficult. But creating a new image was more complicated. When I decided to design a cover page for the fictional manuscript found by Pieter in Vienna, I started in earnest, keeping in mind his friend’s and fellow artist’s authentic works. Ultimately, only experts will see instantly, that I had fun with that page. If anything, the page “drawn” by Von Aachen and “engraved” by Sadeler probably looks more like a nineteenth-century illuminated pen drawing than true period art. The most obvious is the dedication. But, if I did it in Latin, most of my readers wouldn’t have understood it. So, in English it is.
IN THE NEXT PASSAGE ELSA, A PAPER CONSERVATOR, EXAMINES SPRANGER’S MEMOIR.
“Look at this!” Elsa’s voice colored with excitement. As she separated another small bunch of sheets and pushed them aside, the cover folio of the manuscript came to light.
“Someone really messed with this manuscript. The pages are mixed up.”
I only registered the echo of her voice. Suddenly, the room bathed in white light and my chest tightened. I shut my eyes, like I did on top of the Ferris wheel on my first round.
I was terrified then and simply awed now.
“Sit down, blázen!” Elsa shoved her footstool under me. “Breathe deeply! Did you catch something nasty on the plane?”
Slowly as if moving in a dream, I opened my eyes and saw the page again.
“Why are you calling me a fool? Do you realize who did this? Jacob Hoefnagel!”
“Tja…” Elsa clicked her tongue in a personal way. “Flemish merchants. Are they the traders in diamonds and tapestries?”
“Indeed! But on the art market, the family has the reputation as fine book illustrators.”
I was tongue-tied. I could only point to the elaborate Latin inscription on the page and the intricately colored border around the central medallion.
“And look at this!” The dedication was fresh and clear as if completed on the spot.
“To my dearest friend and estimated fellow artist, the illustrious Bartholomaeus Spranger van den Schilde in memory of our friendship. Jacobus Hoefnagel fecit, Praga, AD 1611.”
AT SOME POINT, KARO ASKED PIETER WHAT HE WAS GOING TO DO WITH THE MANUSCRIPT.
“Dunno. Sell the title page, and the drawings?”
“And then?”
“I actually thought about destroying the manuscript. Spranger conversed with God, begging His forgiveness. But he never knew about telephone, the internet, messaging, social websites, and the crazy times we live in now, and how things go viral.”
“And what about the Met show? Everyone can read about him and see his paintings. I’m sure that many people went to see it. Scholars will order the catalogs like hotcakes.”
“That’s so very different from reading Berti’s inner thoughts.”
“Berti?”
“Spranger’s beginning to feel like my family.”
AFTER FINISHING THE BOOK, I STARTED TO FEEL THAT I PERSONALLY KNEW SPRANGER, HIS WIFE CHRISTINA, PIETER, AND KARO. THIS IS A NICE WAY TO KEEP IN TOUCH WITH THEM.
