Monthly Archives: February 2022

Divine inspiration

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Here’s an interesting match. The detail on the left frame is from Andrea Mantegna’s painting Parnassus, dated 1497, although it could be later. The section on the right is part of the San Barnaba Altarpiece painted by Sandro Botticelli c1488.

The Parnassus was commissioned by Isabella d’Este. It was Mantegna’s first painting for the Marchioness of Mantua’s studiola. He produced another a few years later in 1502, Triumph of the Virtues. Isabella was into mythology themes with an allegorical bent, yet I doubt if she really understood or knew what Mantegna had surreptitiously embedded in the Parnassus painting; and probably neither did her court poet Paride da Ceresara who is said to have suggested the theme. Supposedly also an alchemist and astrologer, Paride may have made some sense of the mythological aspect, but Mantegna made sure he added his own narrative to the painting which seemingly has escaped the notice of art historians along the way.

Andrea Mantegna

Mantegna was in his mid-sixties and probably considered by some as past his prime. Isabella, some forty years younger, was keen to exhibit the work of a new generation of famous artists in her studiola. But initially she had to make do with Mantegna who had been employed as the Mantua court artist since 1460. Mantegna put forward the name of Sandro Botticelli as available for commissions but Isabella rejected the idea as the Florentine artist was no longer seen as the ascending star he once was, though he was still in his mid-forties. Isabella’s sights were set on brighter stars, Leonardo da Vinci in particular, but she was never able to commit the polymath to produce any paintings for her, other than to sketch her portrait when he visited the Mantua court on his way from Milan to Venice.

Mantegna was not a man who easily let go of a grievance he may have held for any slight against him. Like Botticelli, he had reached a high plateau of fame, and though Isabella may have viewed him as “old school” he was still more than capable of producing a master stroke, or two.

Isabella d’Este

Apart from any mythological wellspring used to inspire the composition, Mantegna sourced work from two other artists, principally the “out of fashion” Botticelli, but also some pieces by Leonardo. Choosing “Botticelli” can be viewed as a retort to Isabella’s dismissive response of the “little barrel”, and while all her pleading and persuasive charms used to entice Leonardo to produce a painting for her studiola came to nothing, it was Mantegna who came up trumps. He created not only a permanent place for the polymath in the studiola, but also incorporated a painted portrait of the sketch Leonardo had made of Isabella when he visited Mantua.

The composition of the Parnassus painting is based on Botticelli’s Saint Barnabas Altarpiece which was commissioned by the Florentine Guild of Doctors and Apothecaries and installed in the Church of San Barnaba around 1488. The right half of the main section shown above depicts John the Baptist, St Ignatius of Antioch and the archangel Michael. Two other angels are placed behind the three standing figures.

Andrea has taken these figures and other elements and transformed them into a new creation for the Parnassus painting.

St Michael is stripped of his armour to become the half-naked figure in the red-winged hat; St Ignatius is transformed into the bearded horse, his wings and jewelled necklace replacing the winged shape and precious stones of the bishop’s mitre; and the Baptist and the angel immediaely above him become the two figures at the end of the line of Muses.

The two Muses represent a Chimera, a mythological hybrid creature usually depicted as a lion with the head of a goat protruding from its back. The Chimera’s tail is sometimes shown as a snake. So the inclusion of the Chimera in the Parnassus can be understood as being inspired by the portrayal of the two back-to-back angels above the trio of saints. Mantegna formed the head of a young goat within the windswept dress shown on the back of the Muse in white. The snake is represented by the ribbon held by the dancers, while in the altarpiece it can be interpreted as the right arm of the angel drawing back the ermine tailed curtain.

The two golden-haired Muses at the front of the line depict Isabella d’Este and her sister Beatrice with their heads turned admiring the statuesque figure representing multiple identities from Greek mythology, Hermes and Bellerophon, alongside the winged horse Pegasus. The figure with its flowing gold and shell-shaped drape is also a pointer to Botticelli’s famous painting, The Birth of Venus, but in this instance Mantegna is revealing one of its hidden gems, that the west wind figure of Zephyrus actually represents Leonardo da Vinci in flight. As to the maiden clinging to his body, well that’s another story. A similar motif appears in another famous Botticelli painting, Primavera, where Leonardo is depicted as the wind from the East, an ill wind. It is in this painting that we see where Mantegna has borrowed another pairing, the figure of Flora and the woman gripped by Eurus, the East wind, matched with the two Muses next to Pegasus. As for connecting the faces of the two other Muses to the St Barnabas painting, these are adapted from the golden frieze of cherubs representing Botticelli and his brothers.

Detail from Botticelli’s Birth of Venus (left) and Primavera (right)

Other connections between the St Barnabas section and the Parnassus panel are the three nails held by one of the angels. This motif is matched to the grouping of three feet by three different Muses. The tower of caves with their dome-shaped entrances, along with the descending stream of water, is matched to some of the architectural features in Botticelli’s painting: the rondo and door features in the dome, the water feature with the fluted column. The angel’s head covered by a wing and the red drape can be compared to the red winged hat of Hermes, “the messenger of the gods”, whose caduceus can be likened to the staff of the prophet John the Baptist. (Hermes also represents Leonardo’s assistant Salai, while Leonardo is portrayed in the guise of Pegasus). The red jewel seen on the bishop’s episcopal glove is replicated between the eyes of Pegasus, suggesting St Ignatius’s focus is on the jewel. However, the heart in his hand represents his own which was removed to serve as a relic after his martyrdom. When the heart itself was opened it was claimed the name of Jesus Christ was written in gold letters inside.

Another version of the legend is that the heart was cut into several pieces for distribution as relics and that each piece had the name of Jesus inscribed in gold. The latter version relates to the group of rocks in the foreground of the Parnassus painting. The Acts of the Apostles records that Antioch was where the disciples of Jesus were first called Christians. This connects to the passage from Luke (19:34-39) when Jesus, seen as the Messiah, was greeted by the crowd with shouts of acclamation praising God. The Pharisees in the crowd said to Jesus, “Master, check your disciples” but he answered, “I tell you, if these keep silence the stones will cry out.”

The pile of rocks represent the Christians at Antioch proclaiming Jesus from the heart. The shape of the heart of Ignatius appears on the uppermost rock. It is also incorporated as part of a paw print which points to the manner of his martyrdom when the Roman emperor Trajan sent him to face two lions in the Colloseum.

The lion’s paw-print is another reference to Leonardo da Vinci and his thumb print recently discovered on one of his drawings illustrating the internal parts of a female body. Leonardo was known for dissecting cadavers for scientific research. Botticelli was aware of this and in the predella attached to the St Barnabas Altarpiece is a panel depicting two men removing the heart of St Ignatius. The younger man on the left is Leonardo da Vinci.

The left half of both paintings can be matched in a similar way I’ve explained for the right halves. But there are other references in the Parnassus painting that connect with two other Botticelli paintings and also to other works associated with Leonardo. I hope to explain these in a future post.

Parnassus (1497) by Andrea Mantegna, Louvre Museum, Paris
San Barnaba Altarpiece (1487) by Sandro Botticelli, Uffizi, Florence

Met buys Mantuan Roundel

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The Metropolitan Museum of Art has announced the acquisition of a remarkable bronze roundel, attributed to Gian Marco Cavalli, who worked alongside Andrea Mantegna for the House of Gonzaga in Mantua; it is thought that the work, for which the Met paid £17m, was made in around 1500 for Isabella d’Este. Details at this link.

• In a week or so I shall post a piece about a painting commissioned by Isabella d’Este.

• More about the roundel at these links
Mantuan roundel export ban
More on the Mantuan roundel

Three Times a Lady

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photo source: sortiraparis.com

This photograph was taken during a recent exhibition of the work of Sandro Botticelli held at the Musée Jacquemart-André in Paris. It shows two mirror versions of the Madonna and Child with the Infant Saint John.

The Barber Institute version

A third version, housed at the Barber Institute in Birmingham, is similar to the version shown on the right in the photo which is in a private collection. The mirror version is kept at the Uffizi Gallery (Galleria Palatina) in Florence. I posted about the Birmingham version (right) in October 2019 at this link and revealed that the Baptist figure is a reference to Leonardo da Vinci and connects to a thumb print recently discovered on one of his drawings.

There are variations in each painting, most notably in the detail behind the Madonna, but they do not affect the underlying narrative Botticelli embedded in the original version, likely to be the one in Birmingham which the gallery dates at some time in the 1480s. The two versions in the Paris exhibition are dated at 1505, five years before the death of the artist.

Translating transitions in the St Vincent Panels

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I pointed out here in one of my earliest posts about the St Vincent Panels that this trio of faces represented the painter Hugo van der Goes (right), his half-brother Nicholas (back) and Thomas Vaseem, prior of the Red Cloister monastery, an Augustinian community that both brothers belonged to.

A pointer to the face at the back being Hugo’s half-brother is that only half of his head is visible. This also suggests a separation of some kind between the siblings – a subject present elsewhere in the Panels. In a recent post I explained why the coats of arms belonging to René II, duke of Lorraine had been “halved”.

The group of panels are also arranged in a half-and-half or mirrored formation, better understood when brought together, especially the two central panels.

Hugo has also applied more than one identity to some of the figures, but in these situations better understood when separated. For instance the figure of Thomas Vaseem has four identities which link to different narratives. In a way, it is similar to an index or a cross referencing system located at the end of a book. The figure relates to a number, so in this instance the “father” figure relates to both Hugo and his half-brother Nicholas. The figure of Hugo then relates or connects to other scenarios or narratives.

A second identity given to Vaseem is the Roman philosopher Seneca the Younger. There is a stone bust of Seneca similar in features to Vaseem which Hugo has sourced to introduce the narrative on the philosopher famed for his stoic approach to life, as likely Vaseem was also. The sculpture is part of what is known as the double Herm of Seneca and Socrates. The two philosophers are joined at the back of the head (another example of half and half). In a similar way Hugo has attached himself to the representation of Seneca, except that the heads are cheek-to-cheek. Here Hugo is proclaiming he has something in common with Seneca.

In another post I pointed out that Hugo along with the two men on his right, Dante and Virgil, had all been exiled in at sometime during their life. Seneca, too, was exiled to Corsica for a period by the Roman emperor Claudius. Later in life he committed suicide on the orders of Nero. This is another connection with Van der Goes who attempted to take his own life by cutting his throat with a sickle when in a state of manic depression. It was Vaseem who cared for Hugo after other brothers from the Red Cloister community who were with him at the time, including his half-brother Nicholas, prevented him from self-inflicting any fatal wound. It may have been the case that Hugo’s attempt at self-harm was somewhat half-hearted and a cry for help, rather than a serious intention to commit suicide.

Socrates, the other head on the Herm, also committed suicide. The herm, with its back-to-back heads is also suggestive of Janus, the double-headed Roman god of transitions, duality, doorways, new beginnings and endings (particularly of conflicts).

In the same post I explained that the line of men to the left of Vaseem all had a connection to stones, and that the men on the right were grouped as exiles. The figure of Vaseem, now also identified as Seneca, is a link between these two groups, a transition figure, both a stone sculpture and an exile. He cross references both groups.

A helm was also used as a boundary marker. Jan van Eyck made use of this varied motif as a marking point of transition in two of his paintings: The Arnolfini Portrait, and in the Pilgrims panel of the Ghent Altarpiece.

Helm also refers to a helmet, and here Hugo transitions the meaning to the red hat of the saintly figure in front, indicating what generally is assumed to be a depiction of St Vincent of Zaragosa is actually a representation of more than one saint. This “duality” or morphing process explains the ”twin” or mirrored appearance of seemingly the same saint shown in both central panels. Each “Vincent” has more than one saintly identity that form a “Communion of Saints”, a narrative which cross references with another major theme in the Panels, the Nicene Creed.

Van Eyck’s central panel of the Ghent Altarpiece is titled Adoration of the Mystic Lamb. In another sense it depicts the “Communion of Saints”

Adoration of the Mystic Lamb, Ghent Altarpiece, Hubert and Jan van Eyck. Source: Closer to Van Eck

St Valentine and the St Vincent Panels

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“The idea that Valentine’s Day is a day for lovers is thought to originate with Geoffrey Chaucer’s Parliament of Fowls, a poem written in the late 14th century. It describes a group of birds which gather together in the early spring – on ‘seynt valentynes day’ – to choose their mates for the year.” (British Library).

The poet Geoffrey Chaucer is featured in the St Vincent Panels, so is a reference to the Parliament of Fowls.

The poem begins with the narrator reading Cicero’s Somnium Scipionis in the hope of learning some “certeyn thing”. When he falls asleep, Scipio Africanus the Elder appears and guides him up through the celestial spheres to a gate promising both a “welle of grace” and a stream that “ledeth to the sorweful were/ Ther as a fissh in prison is al drye” (reminiscent of the famous grimly inscribed gates in Dante’s Inferno). After some deliberation at the gate, the narrator enters and passes through Venus’s dark temple with its friezes of doomed lovers and out into the bright sunlight. Here Nature is convening a parliament at which the birds will all choose their mates. The three tercel (male) eagles make their case for the hand of a formel (female) eagle until the birds of the lower estates begin to protest and launch into a comic parliamentary debate, which Nature herself finally ends. None of the tercels wins the formel, for at her request Nature allows her to put off her decision for another year (indeed, female birds of prey often become sexually mature at one year of age, males only at two years). Nature, as the ruling figure, in allowing the formel the right to choose not to choose, is acknowledging the importance of free will, which is ultimately the foundation of a key theme in the poem, that of common profit. Nature allows the other birds, however, to pair off. The dream ends with a song welcoming the new spring. The dreamer awakes, still unsatisfied, and returns to his books, hoping still to learn the thing for which he seeks. (Wikipedia)

In the Panel of the Prince, the back row of men all represent birds of one kind or another – the Parliament of Birds. Chaucer (representing an owl) is the figure standing third from the left. The three tercels are the three men grouped on the right of the frame: Hugo van der Goes, who painted the panel, and the poets Dante Alighieri alongside Virgil, his guide in in the Divine Comedy. No doubt, they have the look of eagles forsaken in love.

Van der Goes’ request to marry a woman he loved was rejected by her father which may have prompted the artist to become a “conversus”, a lay brother at the Red Cloister monastery; Dante’s lifelong love for Beatrice Portinari never came to fruition as she was already married; and Virgil, the Roman poet never married.

The reference to Scipio Africanus in Chaucer’s poem is also echoed by the kneeling figure in the panel, King Afonso V of Portugal, known by the sobriquet “The African”.

Translating the St Vincent Panels

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I’ve temporarily moved posts about the St Vincent Panels to another location on the blog as I’m planning to present the information in an updated format on a new blog or website. The posts can still be accessed via this link.

As for the change in appearance of St Vincent shown here, the image represents a source utilised by Hugo van der Goes that is part of a major narrative embedded in the panels.

Half and half

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So far, I’ve provided identities for two figures in the Panel of the Archbishop: René II, duke of Lorraine, and Charles the Bold, duke of Burgundy, placed either side of the central figure said to portray St Vincent of Zaragosa, hence the title of the polyptych, the St Vincent Panels.

However, Vincent is not all he appears to be. The artist Hugo van der Goes has applied a second identity that links to the two dukes already named.

The three coats of arms associated with René II… The duchies of Lorraine, Calabria, and Bar.

I pointed out in my previous post that the Duchy of Bar emblem could be recognised in the fish shape on René’s breastplate. There was no indication of the second fish that is part of the emblem. Hugo had also separated from René the group of three hands representing the three eaglets on the Duchy of Lorraine emblem. Like the second fish, the red “bend” or stripe is also absent. The grouping which forms the Duchy of Calabria emblem is also fragmented across two figures. And the figure of Charles the Bold is absent of any coat of arms because his body was stripped naked by scavengers after he was killed at the Battle of Nancy.

So why the missing parts and fragmentation of the emblems? A clue is in the reason for the absent red “bend” associated with the Lorraine emblem, matched by the absent red stripe on the deacon’s vestment when compared with the vestment’s two stripes shown in the Panel of the Prince. The absence also links to Charles’ death and naked state. One or many saw it fit to strip the dead duke of his clothes as their need was greater.

The two central panels of the St Vincent Panels.

In René’s situation his “coats” are halved or separated, and so missing from his person. Likewise the figure of St Vincent, except in this scenario the portrayal is of another saint – Martin of Tours, the Roman soldier who, on meeting a half-naked beggar on the street, cut his own military cloak in half and gave it to the poor man.

Charles the Bold was baptised with the names Charles Martin.

There are several references to saints in the St Vincent Panels. The figure of the deacon featured in the two central panels has been given at least four identities. This “communion of saints” is an integral part of the main theme expressed in the altarpiece.

• More on the Archbishop panel in my next post.

Marks of victory and defeat

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The Panel of the Archbishop

My last post dealt wth revealing the identity of Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy, one of the figures in the Panel of the Archbishop that is part of the St Vincent Panels.

There’s still more to reveal about Charles who is linked in other ways to both the kneeling knight below him and the two men immediately above.

I also mentioned I would confirm the identity of René II, duke of Lorraine, who fought against the duke of Burgundy at the battle of Nancy on January 3, 1477. Rene is the knight mirrored on the opposite side of the frame,

In another post I explained that one of the reasons why the prelates in the picture are yoked in expensive gold ‘stoles’ that cover their arms was the artist’s method of introducing a “coat of arms” theme in the panel. Its a clue to help identify some of the other figures by their coat of arms or insignia.

René II duke of Lorraine (from1472) can be identified by his three coats of arms. He was also duke of Calabria (1481 to 1493) and Duke of Bar (1483 to 1508). Hugo van der Goes has embedded icongraphy to identify René by his coat of arms.

Coats of arms were an important part of dress and uniform for identifying knights in jousting tournaments and battle arenas. Rene’s grandfather, René of Anjou, was somewhat of an authority on tournament rules and history and produced a colourful illustrated treatise on the subject known as King René’s Tournament Book.

In contrast to René II’s three coats of arms, his opposite opponent Charles the Bold is mirrored without any. This was intended by the artist to reflect the duke of Burgundy’s physical state when his lifeless body was found stripped naked following his army’s defeat by René’s forces at the Battle of Nancy. HIs nakedness also reflected not only the loss of his clothes but also his kingdom and worldly possessions. Identification of Charles’ mutilated body was confirmed by his personal physician. Three spear wounds, two in the thighs and another in the abdomen were noted, along with the severe head injury above the ear from a blow by a halberd. The physician also identified a shoulder wound the duke received in a previous battle as well as more personal details, that Charles had long fingernails and a fistula swelling on his groin.

Hugo van der Goes has verified the identity of Charles the Bold as a figure in the Panel of the Prince with references to these wounds and personal details.

The wounds to the thighs and abdomen link to the three spears; the severe head injury above the ear is represented by the red hat and the green extension to the spear held by Charles which is shaped as a sprouting ear or barb on the blade to give the appearance of a halberd extension; the shoulder injury is defined by the grooved pattern at the joint on the armour plate, suggesting that Charles may have had difficulty or was restricted in rotating his arm; the pointed spear combined with the green barb can be understood as a long finger nail. The fistula reference is in two parts – Charles right hand forms a fist, while “fore” fingers on his left hand grip the “sheath” of his “sword”. His thumb rests on the “handle”. All are presented as phallic symbols to suggest Charles’ fistula swelling in his groin, a symptom of an abnormal urinary tract infection.

After Charles’ body was recovered and removed from the battlefield it was cleansed in “warm water and good wine”. A pointer to this is the hat on the figure kneeling below the duke, depicted as a crushed, burgundy colour grape and then sacked and sealed with a chain and medallion. The wine reference is also a pointer by Hugo van der Goes to one of two identities given to the kneeling figure. But I shall provide details on this a future post.

The three coats of arms associated with René II… The duchies of Lorraine, Calabria, and Bar.

Returning to René II and the coats of arms which reveal his identity…

Duke of Lorraine – In heraldic terms the diagonal band is called a “bend” and shown here in a “sinister” or left position. Imposed is a motif of three birds which are referred to as eaglets or “alerions” (an anagram of Lorraine).

The three alerions can be matched with the group of three hands that form the shape of a bird or, at another level, a dove representing the Holy Spirit descending into the heart of the kneeling knight. Like the bend on the shield, the descent is diagonal but in a “dexter” or right direction and not “sinister”, and so suggesting a change of heart or conversion experience by the kneeling figure. This turnaround implication also applies to the figure of René, duke of Lorraine, who recaptured his Duchy from the control of Charles the Bold.

Duke of Calabria – The “feathered” look of the kneeling knight’s purple hat, coupled with the wing shape section on René’ breastplate, introduces the connection to René’s title as duke of Calabria. His right hand grips the shaft of a raised spear. Combine this with the double-wing motif and this forms the feathered hand raising the sword in the Calabria coat of arms.

Duke of Bar – The wing outline on the breastplate can also be viewed as the shape of a rising or leaping fish and is one of two featured on the coat of arms representing the duchy of Bar. The bar fastener on the duke’s jacket is another clue.

The fish are what are known as dogfish or pike fish which explains one of the reasons why Hugo van der Goes has shaped René hairstyle as the head of a dog and facing the spear or pike blade. Another name the shark fish is known by is the “spiny dogfish”. It has two spines that enables it to arch its back (as depicted in the coat of arms) in a defensive capacity and pierce a captor with spines near its dorsal fins that secrete venom. The word “arch” links with other “arch” features in the panel.

Van der Goes has translated this feature to the figure of Charles opposite. The blade of his pike head is the shape of the fish while the green barb doubles up as the arched back (a second spine). The tassel strings represent the secreted venom.

So where’s the dog? Keyword is “spine”, the spine of the book placed at base of Charles’ neck and the start of his spine. The book spine is damaged and partly folded – “dog-eared”. The ear reference points to the site of Charles’ head injury and the blow which killed him. The dog reference points to the injuries to the side of his face inflicted by a wolf after death.

• More details on the Panel of the Archbishop in my next post.