Black. Nothing but black. Then skin - pale, almost phosphorescent, rising out of the void like something surfacing from dark water. A narrow body, stretched tall by a panel so slim it feels more like a doorframe than a painting. Corkscrew curls of copper-blonde hair spiral down past one shoulder, catching whatever light exists in this airless space. The left hand drifts across the body. The right hand extends outward, palm up, holding a small reddish-gold fruit. An apple, just sitting there in her fingers like a question no one's answered yet. To her left: bark. Deep-furrowed, scaly, almost obscenely textured compared to the smooth porcelain of her skin. A tree trunk that looks older than anything else in the frame. And coiling around an upper branch - a small head, watchful, angled downward. A serpent, though you almost miss it against the dark. Lucas Cranach the Elder painted this Eve on the outer wing of an altar. Oil on wood. The ground beneath her feet is just pebbles and dust. No garden. No paradise. No Adam. Just a woman, a tree, a snake, and all that black pressing in from every direction. The outer wing - meaning this was the side facing the congregation on ordinary days, when the altar stayed closed. The nude body of Eve, right there in the open, while the sacred interior remained hidden. The Kunsthistorisches Museum keeps it in Vienna, where it hangs without apology. Quelle: meisterdrucke.com