#medievalitaly

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by Rachel Hiser Remmes

Ivory is a precious raw material that was used for the creation of diverse objects in antiquity and throughout the entire Medieval period. Part of the reason for its value is on account of its rarity. Ivory comes from elephant tusks, which were not easily accessible to much of the known world at the time. Ivory was often carved into objects that not only had aesthetic value but functional use; examples include combs, thrones, caskets, incense or makeup containers, and book covers. During the medieval period, ivory took on increasing symbolic importance because of its white color, which reflected the purity of the Virgin Mary.

As a medium, ivory provokes interesting questions with regard to the larger art historical discourse on form versus function. As noted, the medium was not simply admired but molded and carved to suit a particular economic or spiritual need. Artisans gave time and detailed attention to each of these objects not so that they would hang on a wall but be used by the ancient and medieval persons of their time. In our exploration of Medieval Materiality, this is a driving question; what does a given object signify on account of its medium. Medieval materials were important because they imparted something extra, something that exceeded the stories told by the figural or decorative images carved into them.

Further Reading:

Williamson, Beth. “Matter and Materiality in an Italian Reliquary Triptych.” Gesta (Spring, 2018): 23-42.

Koechlin, Raymond. Les ivoires gothiques français (Paris: Picard, 1924).

Barnet, Peter, ed. Images in Ivory: Precious Objects of the Gothic Age (Detroit: Detroit Institute of Arts, 1997).

Bartolo di Fredi. Reliquary Triptych with the Annunciation, ca. 1370, tempera and gold leaf on wood with gold and polychrome ivory.

The Brescia Casket, second half of the 4th century, ivory, Milan, Italy.

Ivory Book Cover with Scenes from the Life of Christ, second half of the 5th century, ivory.

Christ Raising the Widow’s Son From the Dead, c. 962-8, ivory, Milan, Italy.

Comb with Lions and Geometric Designs, 6th-5th century B.C., ivory, Naples, Italy.

[italianartsociety]

by Rachel Hiser Remmes

This week’s Medieval Materiality post focuses on the writings of a German Benedictine monk from the twelfth century. Although his actual name is unknown, as he wrote under the pseudonym Theophilus, his work De Diversis Artibus (The Various Arts) has garnered incredible fame for this medieval author, especially from scholars of medieval art. Despite the fact that the text and its author originated in Germany, attention to painterly details in medieval Italian frescoes reveal that the artistic practices which Theophilus codified were familiar to medieval artists from different geographical areas. Theophilus’ work is significant because it gives greater agency to the more minute actions taken by medieval painters, the significance of whose activities are often ignored because their names are unknown. Such expressive actions, as simple as the care given to the highlights on a figure’s face, not only provide opportunities to study the elusive and seemingly invisible “medieval artist” but also heighten the contemporary viewer’s appreciation of the care given to the manipulation and control of various media used throughout the medieval era.

What follows is a section from C.R. Dodwell’s 1961 translation of De Diversis Artibus, wherein Theophilus educates the reader - or artist - on the processes one must take to apply “The First Highlight.” Images and details of frescoes from three Italian programs are provided for you to compare against Theophilus’ dictation.

“After this, with the plain flesh colour mix ground flake-white and prepare the colour which is called the highlight. With this you will paint the eyebrows, the length of the nose, on each side above the openings of the nostrils, the fine lines around the eyes, below the temples, above the chin, near the nostrils, and on each side of the mouth, the upper forehead, between the wrinkles of the forehead - sparingly, the neck in the middle, around the ears, around the relief of the hands and feet and the centre of the highest relief of the hands, feet and arms.”

Further Reading:

Theophilus. De Diversis Artibus. C.R. Dodwell, trans. (New York: Thomas Nelson and Sons Ltd, 1961).

Gearhart, Heidi C. Theophilus and the Theory and Practice of Medieval Art. (University Park, Pennsylvania: The Pennsylvania State University Press, 2017).

Detail, Giotto, Massacre of the Innocents, Arena Chapel, Padua, Italy 1303-05, fresco.

Giotto, Massacre of the Innocents, Arena Chapel, Padua, Italy 1303-05, fresco.

Annunciation Fragment, Santa Maria Antiqua, Rome, Italy, 8th century, fresco.

Detail, Pietro Cavallini, St. James the Greater in The Last Judgement, Basilica di Santa Cecilia in Trastevere, Rome, Italy, 1293, fresco.

[italianartsociety]

by Rachel Hiser Remmes

The third installment of Medieval Materiality tracks Italian materials on their journey away from Italy as they become reappropriated into artworks in other medieval cultural milieus. This process, known as spoliation, whereby, in this case, Roman - and Italian - materials were taken from their sites in situ and moved to other kingdoms before they became reused in new artworks, was common across the medieval world. By incorporating pieces from prior civilizations, patrons hoped to present themselves through the lens and glory of previously successful rulers. This mentality can be see in two of the most famous artworks to incorporate spolia, which were produced during the Carolingian and Ottonian eras, respectively: Charlemagne’s imperial chapel at Aachen (d. 805) and Henry II’s Golden Ambo (early 11th century), which was, perhaps not so coincidentally, installed in Charlemagne’s chapel at Aachen.

Charlemagne wanted to look back to the glory of the ancient Romans as he built a new empire, the Carolingian Empire, under the model of the Roman imperial glory. By taking the physical materials that had once housed those great leaders, Charlemagne was physically continuing their tradition. Similarly, Henry II looked back to the glory of the Carolingian Empire two hundred years later by not only mimicking Charlemagne’s reappropriation of Roman materials, and thus the Roman Empire, but by also placing his illustrious ambo in the chapel of the great Charlemagne, whose glory he hoped to espouse.

References:

https://www.khanacademy.org/humanities/medieval-world/carolingian1/a/palatine-chapel-aachen

Garrison, Eliza. Ottonian Imperial Art and Portraiture, The Artistic Patronage of Otto III and Henry II (Florence: Taylor & Francis, 2012).

Aachen Chapel, Aachen, Germany, d. 805, roman columns.

Golden Ambo of Henry II, early 11th century, mixed media, using Roman spolia.

[italianartsociety]

by Rachel Hiser Remmes

In the thirteenth century, additional scenes and notable alterations were made to the iconography of Jesus’ Passion narrative, which had hitherto been fairly standard in the medieval world; stylistic variations had been the greatest discrepancy between various cycles. Adjustments to The Betrayal, The Trial, The Mocking, and The Way to Calvary and the inclusion of the nascent images, The Stripping of Clothes and The Ascent Up the Cross, were added to artworks associated with the newly-established Franciscan Order around 1240. These alterations became commonplace in frescoes, altarpieces, and historiated crosses commissioned for Franciscan and Clarisan houses and illustrated Christ as emblematic of the core Franciscan values of humility, poverty, and a willingness to die for the faith. For instance, in these scenes, Jesus was depicted as weak and susceptible in settings where he had previously been shown to exhibit a stoic response to the events of his Passion. Such subtle characterizations became standard in all images and continued to promote the fundamental message of the redemption that Jesus gained through his death and resurrection, yet they altered Jesus’ response, emphasizing his frail human nature.

This emotive portrayal paralleled burgeoning Franciscan thought in duecento Italy and influenced contemporaneous artworks. Specifically, scenes in the Upper Church of the Basilica di San Francesco in Assisi, attributed to Giotto and his workshop, narrate The Legend of St. Francis. Their proximal location - the second bay in the southern nave wall is one example - and compositional resemblance to scenes from Jesus’ life link them inextricably to the events and sentiments of the New Testament narrative, but most specifically, Jesus’ Passion. The Stigmatization of St. Francis and St. Clare Embracing the Body of St. Francis at the Convent of San Damiano are two poignant examples, recalling the Crucifixion and the Virgin Mary’s lamentation.

Further Reading: Anne Derbes, Picturing the Passion in Late Medieval Italy, Narrative Painting, Franciscan Ideologies, and the Levant (New York, NY: Cambridge University Press, 1996).

Giotto (attributed to), The Stigmatization, Upper Church, Basilica di San Francesco, Assisi, 1295-99, fresco. 

Giotto (attributed to), St. Clare Embracing the Body of St. Francis at the Convent of San Damiano, Upper Church, Basilica di San Francesco, Assisi, 1295-99, fresco. 

Master of Saint Francis, Deposition from the Cross, 13th century.

Upper Church, Basilica di San Francesco, Assisi, 1228-1253. 

Southern wall, 2nd bay, nave, Upper Church, Basilica di San Francesco, Assisi, 1228-1253/1295-99, fresco. 

Master of Saint Francis of Assisi, Bi-faced Processional Cross, 1275-1280, tempera on panel. 

Giotto (attributed to), The Death of St. Francis, Upper Church, Basilica di San Francesco, Assisi, 1295-99, fresco. 

[italianartsociety]

by Rachel Hiser Remmes

The transition from the papyrus roll of late antiquity to the codex, akin to the modern day book, paralleled the rise of Christianity in the first few centuries of the Common Era. The correlation between these two events is widely documented in medieval scholarship and a number of factors have to be considered when discussing this switch. Two variables that drove this transition were the need for a format more suitable to recording the longer narrative text of the New Testament and a more durable materiality that would allow for the preservation of the written word and the intercontinental travel undertaken by early Christian missionaries.

With the change in format, there were more opportunities to depict images alongside their relevant text, as each page, or folio, presented a single confined space in which an illustrator and scribe could work. This is opposed to the long, continuous format of the scroll where the text could progress unencumbered by page divisions. One of the earliest extant Bibles produced in the codex format, the Quedlinburg Italia (Berlin, Staatsbibliothek, MS Theol. lat. fol. 485), exemplifies the proliferation of images. This manuscript was produced in Rome in the early fifth century and, as can be seen in the images, organized pages dominated by images. This manuscript is believed to have been made in the same scriptorium of the famous Vatican Vergil (Rome, BAV, Vat. lat. 3225) where images also came to play an important literary function.

The transition from roll to codex communicates the interdependence between materiality and functionality that underlies so many medieval objects. It is a relationship that we will continue evaluate in our study of Medieval Materiality.

Lowden, John. “The Beginning of Biblical Illustration.” Imagining the Early Medieval Bible, ed. John Williams (University Park: Penn State Press, 1999): 8-59.

Quedlinburg Italia (Berlin, Staatsbibliothek, ms theol. lat. fol. 485)

Vatican Vergil (Rome, BAV, Vat. lat. 3225)

Homer, Book 2, Papyrus Roll, c. 150 C.E.

[italianartsociety]

by Rachel Hiser Remmes

As of today, the Italian Art Society Blog will launch a set of new series in order to enhance our presentation of medieval Italian art. Each weekly post will be grouped thematically into a respective series to highlight subjects and theories relevant to the atmosphere of medieval art history today. The goal of these posts is to expand awareness of a multitude of medieval Italian artworks through means supplemental to anniversaries, as such dates are the exception rather than the norm when it comes to medieval works. It is the hope of the IASBlog that each post will be both informative and accessible to a vast array of audiences. Each new sequence will be introduced with a post situating necessary background information to give readers the larger picture before diving into specific examples in the subsequent weeks.

Our first series, Medieval Materiality, will explore the vast array of medieval media used to represent the multi-sensuous world of medieval life and thought. From the skin of sheeps and lambs used to create the parchment onto which the “Word of God, [which] was made flesh” (John 1:14) was written, to the luminous mosaic patterns that displayed the salvation achieved in the Heavenly Jerusalem, to use of Ancient Roman spolia to signal the triumph of the new Christian Rome, and many more, it is challenging to find a medieval artwork whose materiality, through its sensuality and polyvalence, did not signify a greater importance than the images or objects that it was used to create. Medieval art provides today’s audiences with a unique experience to look beyond, below, and above the surface, to see what hidden meanings and treasures, accessible to the human eye, are waiting for further intellectual and personal engagement.

Please note that these posts are intended to participate in ongoing academic discussions and do not claim to be the authority on any singular topic nor will each post’s bibliography be exhaustive. Rather, the goal will be to highlight recent publications on the topic. Comments and questions are readily encouraged to continue the conversation.

Further Reading

Kumler, Aden and Christopher Lakey. “Res et significatio: The Material Sense of Things in the Middle Ages.” Gesta 51.1 (Spring 2017): 1-17.

[italianartsociety]

by Rachel Hiser Remmes

In the Forum Romanum, the fifth-century church Santa Maria Antiqua houses the only extant example in Rome of the Maria Regina wearing the loros, a significant garment that distinguished imperial figures. Byzantine images of consuls and emperors wearing the loros abound, suggesting that the Maria Regina’s regalia in Santa Maria Antiqua was a politically-charged statement. There are multiple interpretations as to why this seemingly unprecedented depiction of the Virgin Mary in stately attire was commissioned in Rome. 

As the Emperor and Empress resided in Constantinople when this fresco was painted in the mid-sixth century, the prevailing argument has been that the image represents an imperial presence in Rome in the absence of the actual ruler, especially as the fresco is painted next to the entrance to the imperial palace on the Palatine Hill. More recent suggestions propose that the image developed from Byzantine iconography and was painted when Justinian’s two generals, Belisarios and Narses, visited Rome to restore order. Rationale for this is the encaustic icon of Maria Regina without the loros in Santa Maria in Trastevere produced a century or two later. The absence of the loros there, then, might suggest that the Roman iconography needed to be distinct from the imperial trend to distance Rome from Constantinople, thereby declaring its allegiance to the pope alone.

Further Reading: Bissera V. Pentcheva, Icons and Power, The Mother of God in Byzantium (University Park: The Pennsylvania State University Press, 2006).

Maria Regina, Santa Maria Antiqua, Rome, mid-sixth century, fresco.

Santa Maria della Clemenza, Santa Maria in Trastevere, Rome, late sixth-eighth centuries, encaustic.

Nave View with Maria Regina in the right of the apse, Santa Maria Antiqua, Rome, mid-sixth century.

Detail, Consular diptych of Areobindus.

Emperor and Empress Nicephorus III and Maria of Alania, (1074-81), Paris, BnF, MS Coislin 79, fol. 2.

[italianartsociety]

by Rachel Hiser Remmes

Although much of what remains from medieval Italy is found within the superficial built environment, most notably the plethora of extant basilicas across the peninsula, the town of Massafra in the Salento region houses distinct domestic and ecclesiastic spaces. The rock-cut villages and churches along the San Marco and Madonna della Scala ravines are architectural and artistic wonders dating back to the fourth century and used until the fifteenth/seventeenth centuries. Hewn from the rock, the spaces mimic the layouts of their built counterparts. The frescoes that cover the walls of the churches and crypts are particularly noteworthy and may even provide more nuanced insights into the daily lives of their medieval attendees and patrons.

In the famous Crypt of Candelora, named for the frescoed depiction of the Presentation of Jesus in the Temple, is an uncommon image of the Virgin Mary escorting the child Jesus to school. From what is known about the educational system in the Salento, school was integral to the lives of Jewish and Christian boys, beginning as young as the age of five. This fresco, then, appears to respond to and moralize a daily custom. Furthermore, the woman praying alongside her husband to the left of the Virgin also raises questions about the traditional dress of married women in the Salento. Archeological, visual, and textual evidence strongly asserts that married women traditionally wore head coverings well into the twentieth century. Yet, a few outliers, including this fresco, appear to contradict the regional custom.

This singular fresco is one of many that exist on the rock-hewn surfaces in Massafra’s churches, but it exemplifies the potency of frescoes as data of daily medieval Italian life and presents opportunities for further study.

References:

Linda Safran, The Medieval Salento, Art and Identity in Southern Italy (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2014).

https://viaggiareinpuglia.it/hp/en

Virgin walking Jesus to school, Crypt of Candelora, Massafra, Italy, 12th century, fresco.

Cave Dwellings, Massafra, Italy, 4th-15/17th centuries.

Detail of Virgin, Virgin walking Jesus to school, Crypt of Candelora, Massafra, Italy, 12th century, fresco.

Detail, Crypt of Candelora, Massafra, Italy, 12th century, frescoes.