A beautiful and fascinating study of the art of Hans Holbein in a catalog accompanying the first major exhibition of his work in the U.S, hosted by the J. Paul Getty Museum in Los Angeles, and currently en route to the Morgan Library in New York. Everyone knows that iconic image of Henry VIII, right? The spraddle-legged king dripping in furs and chains and velvets and jewels? That was Holbein. Born in Germany, son of the successful painter of mostly religious works Hans Holbein the Elder, Hans the Younger worked and trained in Switzerland and the Low Countries, then settled in England. His friendship with (and warm portrait of) the prince of European humanists Erasmus opened the door to Thomas More, with whom Holbein lived for a couple of years. He painted lords and ladies, dukes and merchants, courtiers, and - of course - royalty. Silks and sleeves, velvets and damask, drapery and jewels glint and gleam and glow. His people glower or ponder, sulk or strut. The magnificent French ambassador may be deciding whether to draw his sword on you; Richard Southwell is thinking of how soon he can get out of this sitting. Thomas More's eyes are creased and he needs a shave, Cromwell looks irritated at the interruption of his business. Mary, Lady Guilford, glances at you sideways as though about to smile in her drawing - then purses a severe and scolding mouth in the painting. Holbein surrounds them with precisely-chosen emblems, mottoes, and objects that tell you even more about their pursuits, their status, their philosophies, and their interests.

These glorious paintings are almost overshadowed by the utterly dazzling, delicate drawings - skin tones rendered in a flush of red chalk, a fall of hair sheened in watercolor, the grooved and granitic face of the archbishop brought to life by his hooded eyes in ink and chalk, a quickly sketched hand seems to write as we watch.

Additional chapters address Holbein's other skills as a calligrapher, designer of logos and alphabets and jewels, and his expertise both in designing and painting books. The Getty is proud to own a mysterious allegorical panel of a passionate rider, long unattributed until technical analysis of the pigments, underdrawings, and even dendochronology of the wood panel helped assign it to Holbein. There are marvelous little roundel portraits four inches across, with stubbled jawlines, eyebrows, and drapery shadows elegantly detailed. The chapter texts (such as that covering Holbein's contributions to fonts and book design) are scholarly and intended for an academic audience, and we have not a single documentary scrap from Holbein himself about anything, but the curators have assembled a wonderfully rich, informative, and splendidly illustrated catalog to enhance anyone's appreciation for this remarkable artist. I for one want to go get myself a soft black velvet hat and spangle it with tiny diamonds and one elegant hat badge.

*Thanks to NetGalley for an e-ARC in exchange for an honest review. I may have to buy this book just to frame the portrait of Charles de Solier, with whom I fell madly in love.* ( )