Old paintings typically have a certain goofy look to them where you can tell they were painted in a time with a completely different “meta” for painting. This one caught my eye, because not only does it look like something that might have been painted today, but at ~400 years old, it predates many of the paintings that have that goofy old painting look by centuries.

(view the full sized image here)

I gave identifying info about this work to Perplexity with the instructions to research it and tell me all the interesting things it could about the work. Here’s what we got:

Castle Bentheim: The Great Artistic Deception

Imagine standing in a sun-dappled clearing, your eyes drawn irresistibly up a wooded mountainside where an ancient fortress crowns the summit like something from a medieval fairy tale. The massive stone walls catch the afternoon light, casting dramatic shadows across the verdant slopes below, while tiny figures wind their way through the forest paths—barely visible against the grandeur of nature's cathedral. This is the world Jacob van Ruisdael conjured in his magnificent 1653 masterpiece, Castle Bentheim—a painting so compelling that visitors to Dublin's National Gallery find themselves returning to it again and again, lost in its mysterious depths.

But here's the delicious secret that makes this painting truly extraordinary: none of it is real.

The Great Artistic Deception

What Ruisdael actually visited around 1650 was a modest fortress sitting on what was, in reality, just a low, unimpressive hill in the German border town of Bad Bentheim. Yet in his hands, this humble castle underwent one of art history's most spectacular transformations. The 25-year-old artist took creative liberties that would make even Hollywood directors blush, dramatically elevating the castle's setting to create the impression of a fortress perched atop a soaring, forested mountain.

This wasn't accidental—it was masterful visual storytelling. By 1653, when he completed what many consider his finest depiction of the castle, Ruisdael had painted Bentheim no fewer than fourteen times, each version showing the fortress at different heights and in various fantastical settings. The Dublin version represents the pinnacle of his imagination, where the castle achieves an almost mythical grandeur that the real structure could never claim.

A Young Master's Bold Journey

The story behind this painting reads like an adventure novel. Around 1650, the young Ruisdael embarked on what may have been one of art history's most productive road trips, journeying eastward from his native Haarlem with his friend and fellow artist Nicolaes Berchem. While most Dutch artists of the time headed south toward Italy for their grand tours, Ruisdael chose a different path, venturing into the wooded hills of Westphalia near the Dutch-German border.

This expedition exposed him to entirely new terrain—hills, mountains, fast-flowing rivers, water mills, and half-timbered buildings that were completely foreign to the flat Dutch landscape he knew. The trip was transformative, providing him with a treasure trove of sketches and motifs he would return to throughout his career. Some historians speculate he may have even accompanied an expedition to acquire Bentheimer sandstone for Amsterdam's grand new town hall—the same yellowish stone that would clad what is now the Royal Palace.

The Golden Age Canvas

Ruisdael created this masterwork during Holland's most prosperous era, when the Dutch Republic was experiencing unprecedented wealth and cultural flowering following the Peace of Münster in 1648. This was a time when landscape painting had evolved from mere background decoration into a celebrated art form in its own right, reflecting the Dutch people's deep connection to their reclaimed homeland.

The painting exemplifies the technical brilliance of Dutch Golden Age artistry. Measuring an impressive 110.5 by 144 centimeters, it's executed in oil on canvas with Ruisdael's characteristic mastery of light, atmosphere, and texture. His brushwork reveals thousands of tiny dabs and smudges in countless shades of green, brown, and yellow, building up the illusion of dense foliage with almost scientific precision. The artist's use of impasto—thick applications of paint—creates a three-dimensional quality that makes the trees seem to reach out from the canvas.

Nature's Sublime Theater

What makes this painting truly captivating is how Ruisdael orchestrates the composition like a theatrical director. Your eye begins in the shadowed foreground, where the artist has created an intricate tapestry of rocks, streams, and vegetation rendered in "numerous hues of green". From there, your gaze is deliberately guided up through the middle ground, past small houses with their distinctive red rooftops nestled among the trees, finally arriving at the illuminated castle that serves as the painting's dramatic crescendo.

The sky occupies nearly two-thirds of the canvas, filled with Ruisdael's signature billowing clouds that seem to pulse with their own inner light. This wasn't just aesthetic choice—it reflected the Dutch obsession with their ever-changing skies and the way light transforms the landscape throughout the day. Botanists have marveled that they can actually identify specific species of plants and trees in Ruisdael's paintings, so precise was his observation of nature.

Symbolism in Stone and Leaf

Beyond its visual beauty, the painting operates on multiple symbolic levels. In 17th-century Dutch culture, castles represented strength and historical continuity, while the lush natural setting spoke to God's creation and the cycle of life and decay. The tiny human figures—barely visible among the trees—underscore humanity's small place within the grand scheme of nature, a theme that runs throughout Ruisdael's work.

Some scholars suggest the painting contains deeper allegorical meanings about the transience of earthly power and the enduring strength of the natural world. The way sunlight breaks through the clouds to illuminate certain areas while leaving others in shadow creates a sense of divine presence moving across the landscape.

The Artist Behind the Magic

Jacob Isaackszoon van Ruisdael was born into an artistic dynasty in Haarlem around 1628-1629. His father Isaack was a painter and picture dealer, while his uncle Salomon van Ruysdael was already an established landscape artist (note the different spelling—Jacob deliberately changed the "y" to an "i" in his surname). By age 18, he was already producing signed, dated works of remarkable sophistication, and at 20 he was admitted to Haarlem's prestigious Guild of St. Luke.

What's remarkable is that Ruisdael completed this masterpiece when he was only in his mid-twenties, yet it's considered one of the finest achievements in the history of landscape painting. He would go on to become the most celebrated landscape artist of his generation, producing over 700 paintings and 100 drawings that influenced everyone from English Romantics like John Constable to the French Impressionists.

Tragically, despite his artistic genius, Ruisdael struggled financially throughout his life. By 1681, the Haarlem council was petitioned to admit him to the town's almshouse, and he died the following year in Amsterdam at age 53. His body was returned to Haarlem for burial, where his legacy as the "pre-eminent landscape painter of the Dutch Golden Age" was already secure.

Today, this painting stands as perhaps the finest example of how artistic vision can transform reality into something far more powerful than mere documentation. In Ruisdael's hands, a modest German hill castle became an immortal symbol of humanity's relationship with the natural world—a testament to the transformative power of imagination and the enduring magic of great art.

And that's it!

If you have any details you think Perplexity left out, reply to this email and I'll adjust my prompt to nudge it to include it next time.

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Thanks for reading!

-JP

Current prompt: I want you to create a newsletter post describing the fun and exciting stories around a painting. It should be a newsletter read for leisure and should be an enjoyable read (not just a list of facts) here's what you’re gonna do: Find the name of the following painting in its original language and any alternative names it goes by. Then Research the painting and give me blurb telling me all you can about the artist, the historical context/events it was created in, the style, the materials used, the composition and visual elements, the story/underlying message, what inspired the work/what it meant to the author, and whatever other info you find that helps give a complete understanding of the work. A description of what is depicted (mention subjects) should be the first thing, while the “biography” of the artist should be last. if the work has a lot of meaning behind it, then that is what the meat of the newsletter should be. Besides that you are free to present the information in a concise and captivating way, with the most interesting and novel stuff closest to the top. Order the presentation of information for which pieces have the most compelling and interesting story to tell. At least some of the description should be formatted like a story. [for example: a couple sits on a bench watching the sunset while a man next to them…]. ONLY include information that is for THIS SPECIFIC PAINTING. you will find info on paintings similar to this one but NOT this one. OMMIT INFO ABOUT SUCH PIECES. remember, the goal is to make the most compelling, intriguing, and fun to read newsletter as possible, so keep that above all else.