Overflowing with lavish abundance, four of Jan Davidsz de Heem’s (1606–1684, born Utrecht) most influential still lifes are reunited for the first time since the 17th century. However, behind these paintings lie monuments to a colonial power. The Fitzwilliam Museum's latest exhibition unpacks this hidden history, detailing how depictions of opulence are entangled with exploitation. De Heem's four canvases serve as visual inventories of an empire. Each object points to the far-reaching networks of coercion and trade underpinning the Dutch Golden Age. The university museum invites you to consider what objects these stories tell. And more importantly, who paid for such splendour? 

On entry, de Heem's mastery of texture and colour dazzles. Ripe lemons nestle between shining metal chalices. Translucent grapes shimmer tangibly in the foreground, a sommelier’s wet dream in oil paint. De Heem's infamous trompe l'oil technique – applying layers upon layers of delicate glazes to make each shell and droplet of wine appear deceptively realistic –  evokes an almost carnal desire. These four heavy spectacles of abundance provide a cornucopian carnival of 17th century luxuries. 

A central figure in these snapshots is the Dutch East India Company, its legacy of exploitation clear in the colonial displacement of both people and items in every artwork. See the presence of highly prized, imported shells. The Fitz brings attention to the Indigenous artisans who received little to no compensation for harvesting and polishing these symbols of refinement and wealth; the figure of the black servant in Still Life Black Servant and Parrots quietly alludes to the forced movement of people within Dutch colonial spheres. His placement beside the monkey underscores his dehumanisation. The museum encourages viewers to reflect on this unsettling hierarchy and consider the role of art in reinforcing and challenging narratives. 

These works belong to the Dutch Vanitas tradition. Deeply rooted in the admonitions of Ecclesiastes, these paintings whisper moral lessons of the impermanence of worldly possessions. A parted curtain, remnants of lemon peel, a discarded golden jug, and half-polished vessels speak to the precarious nature of human life and inevitable decay. Such moral undercurrents symbolised a tension between ostentatious displays of wealth from a booming Dutch trade economy and the Protestant values of modesty familiar in de Heem's home Utrecht. Reminders of mortality intrude upon his quasi-rapturous approbation of material splendour. A Calvinist fever dream, they sermonise against excess. However, A Banquet, Still Life (in the hands of a private collector) flirts with complicity in the ideals it depicts. Illusions of space, solidity, and light assume the role of memento mori: a reminder that life is fleeting, that God is good but his judgement stern. 

“Our attention is drawn to a gold watch, as if to say, ‘time is money, and both are fleeting’”

The trompe l'oeil effect personifies this very idea of deception and the illusions of wealth and permanence. Through the creation of hyper-realistic representations in Fruit and Rich Dishes at a Table, De Heem subtly reinforces commercial dominance in everyday life. Gastronomic pleasures with far sourced sugar and spices dominate the foreground in front of a globe. Grapes, lemons, and oranges recall new silk roads extending to the Mediterranean and beyond. Nestled among these platters, our attention is drawn to a gold watch, secured by a blue ribbon, as if to say, 'time is money, and both are fleeting’.   

The Fitzwilliam displays its latest analysis of De Heem's pigments. Under imaging techniques like X-ray fluorescence, conservators have identified materials from across the world. Vibrant reds are determined to have originated from cochineal insects in colonial New Mexico. The trade of indigo, sourced from East Indian trade routes, enriched European coffers while uprooting indigenous communities.  

Building on the museum's exploration of colonial roots we come to consider silent stories behind every opulent exterior. Who paid the human cost? How do their echoes shape our current consumer habits? These themes resonate closely with the museum's wider installation, Glenn Ligon’s All Over the Place, whose text-based works disrupt traditional narratives, prompting us to confront how colonial legacies are constructed and, too often, obscured. How do we reconcile these beautiful visuals with the human costs they represent? The Fitzwilliam, like other institutions, sits at the intersection of accountability and admiration, encouraging us to engage critically with legacies behind this glamour. 

‘Picturing Excess: Jan Davidsz de Heem’ is on display at the Fitzwilliam Museum until 13 April.

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