The critic explains her fascination with Carel Fabritius, whose studio was destroyed in a 17th-century explosion
In 1654 a gunpowder store exploded in Delft, taking a quarter of the city with it. The cause was carelessness rather than anything sinister, unless you were a particularly keen member of the strict Dutch Reformed Church, in which case you might believe that God was coming for you. Most likely a cack-handed caretaker let a spark fly from his lantern, and the whole thing went up in a bang you could hear 70 miles away.
The loss was immeasurable. Just think of all those luminously beautiful interiors that we know from the paintings of the Dutch masters, with their snowy tablecloths, jugs of milk, dozing dogs and serene maidservants. Now imagine them all smashed to smithereens.
