Ferdinand Max Bredt

The following condition report was kindly provided by Simon Parkes Art Conservation, Inc.: This painting is in lovely condition. The paint layer is quite dirty and the canvas has been lined with glue, although at that time the picture was most likely not cleaned properly. There are a few faintly visible retouches along the extreme bottom edge and on the upper right edge. These retouches however attempt only to resolve some slight frame abrasion, which could be retouched much more conservatively if the picture were to be cleaned. The cracking is slightly raised, yet not disturbingly so.
"This lot is offered for sale subject to Sotheby's Conditions of Business, which are available on request and printed in Sotheby's sale catalogues. The independent reports contained in this document are provided for prospective bidders' information only and without warranty by Sotheby's or the Seller."

Though little known today, Ferdinand Max Bredt was widely recognized in his lifetime for his Orientalist works.  Indeed, two of these, inspired by his travels through Turkey, Tunisia, and Greece, were chosen to represent his native Germany at the World's Columbian Exposition of 1893.  Two Gazelles drew particularly favorable criticism for both its formal qualities and its attractive subject matter: "The color of the Orient, so dear to painters, is suggested in the green bodice and bluish turban of the taller of these 'gazelles,' but still more brilliantly in the admirable head of a 'Soudanese Girl' by the same artist," (William Walton, Art and Architecture (at the World's Columbian Exposition of 1893), Philadelphia, 1893).

In Serenade in the Harem, Bredt's interest in color and in female subjects is again evident.  A young woman, in vaguely Turkish dress, sits on a cushioned divan.  Gorgeous golden skirts frame her slender legs, and are matched in hue by an embroidered jacket.  Despite its tight buttoning, the low neckline of the jacket teases us with a calculated glimpse of the thin white fabric that covers her ample bosom. Adding to the sense of eroticism are the jewels the woman wears, which lead the eye across her body, from her exquisite headpiece and dangling earrings to the ornamental flowers on her silk slippers.  Surrounded and adorned by beautiful objects, the woman becomes an object herself, there for the pleasure of those who stand before her.

The woman's lips are parted in song, and her eyes, locked into our own, effectively collapse both space and time.  A lute rests in her lap, its long handle balanced by the delicate clasp of her left hand.  The sense of casual ease is accentuated by the woman's posture: She leans against a wall of inlaid marble and, lying tousled beside her, is a navy blue and crimson red blanket, its palette reflected in the loosely bound bouquet of flowers on the mantel above.  Beside these flowers is a potted aloe plant, evocative of both the arid landscape outside this marble haven and the soothing, comforting sound of the woman's voice.

Since at least the seventeenth century, European artists and travelers had delighted in descriptions of Middle Eastern women singing and playing stringed musical instruments in the harem.  Despite the erotic overtones of these languid serenades, the act of playing music also helped to align these women with European ideals and cultural practices: Music was considered a pleasant and appropriate diversion for women, and a ladylike accomplishment. The esteemed Victorian painter, Frederic, Lord Leighton (1830-1896), for example, relied on this connotation in order to domesticate his exotic harem scenes.

Also meaningful to contemporary European audiences would have been the flowers in Bredt's picture. Selected for their beauty and plucked from the outside word, these blossoms seem to reflect the state of the harem woman herself.  But they weave another narrative thread as well: In the nineteenth century, a "language of flowers" had been established in Britain and Europe, that gave to each species a special meaning. This practice, when combined with the popular belief that harem women often communicated by means of flower symbolism with their outside lovers, helped to establish a common trope in Orientalist paintings.  Interestingly, the blue flowers in the nosegay here are anemone coronoria, a species native to Israel and the Mediterranean, and which were thought to symbolize the giver's feelings of being forsaken.

This catalogue entry was written by Dr. Emily M. Weeks.