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Category Archives: Object of the Month.2024

Object of the Month: December 2024

Scenes from The Annunciation: God the Father in a Glory of Angels, St. Gabriel the Archangel and The Virgin Annunciate

Oil on canvas

Francesco Montemezzano

Venetian, c.1540-after 1602

In museum collections, including the Museum & Gallery, there are paintings that were once part of a larger narrative, but now stand as individual works of art. These pieces, usually parts of large altarpieces, have been reduced in size for various reasons such as damage to the whole, for profit, or to fit a new arrangement. Very few that have been broken up have managed to stay together. Francesco Montemezzano’s The Annunciation is one of those lucky few.

At first glance in the galleries, you may notice a similar velvety color palette and free brushwork but may not realize they are one of a whole. If not for the close arrangement in display, one may not be able to see the full image. Originally in a horizontal format, the painting was altered sometime in the seventeenth century to fit a vertical, architectural enframement. Despite this physical cropping, we can still see the theme of the annunciation.

The annunciation is a common subject portrayed in Christian art. The moment is recorded in Luke 1:26-38 where Gabriel informs Mary that she will fulfill the prophecy of Isaiah 7:14 promising “a virgin shall conceive and bear a Son, and shall call His name Immanuel.” This theme became very popular in fifteenth-century altarpieces and were reinterpreted by artists throughout history such as Fra Angelico, Leonardo da Vinci, Botticelli, Caravaggio, Peter Paul Rubens, and John William Waterhouse. Each artist put their own spin on the theme, reflecting the stylistic ethos of the time and the artists’ own taste, but there are common elements.

Mary, Gabriel, and a dove are the main figures. Sometimes they are outside in an hortus conclusus or “enclosed garden,” and other times they are cloistered inside, symbolizing Mary’s chastity. Lilies are usually present, carried by Gabriel or somewhere in the composition, further emphasizing Mary’s purity as a virgin. Mary is commonly shown in prayer with a prayer book or missal kneeling at a prie-dieu. A dove or beam of light usually represents God’s blessing on Mary as His chosen handmaiden or the symbol of immaculate conception.

With this brief background, Montemezzano’s Annunciation stands out. We can see architectural elements throughout the three paintings and a possible garden behind Mary. Was this Montemezzano’s nod to the hortus conclusus? And where is the dove or beam of light that is often shown? Because of its fragmented state, we may never know exactly what the artist designed. However, Montemezzano did include one unique figure in this Annunciation—God the Father. Very few depictions of the annunciation include a physical God the Father, most only show his messenger Gabriel and the dove.

There are actually two other annunciation scenes in M&G’s collection that show God the Father in physical form (one found in galleries 4 and 10). Here, in Montemezzano’s work, God the Father is shown breaking through clouds and the architectural ceiling, symbolizing His passage into the earthly realm. Despite the unique inclusion of God the Father, His presence fits the annunciation theme perfectly. It is a foreshadowing of another part of the Trinity, Jesus, coming into our world to dwell with us as told by Matthew 1:23, “Behold, a virgin shall be with child, and shall bring forth a son, and they shall call his name Emmanuel, which being interpreted is, God with us.”

The Annunciation reminds us of promises fulfilled, how a Savior will dwell with us and come into this broken world to make us whole. While this painting will never have that opportunity to be truly whole again, we as believers are reminded of that promise for us this Christmas season.

 

KC Christmas Beach, M&G summer art educator

 

Published 2024

Object of the Month: November 2024

The Return from the Flight into Egypt

Oil on canvas, c. 1712

Giuseppe Bartolomeo Chiari

Roman, 1654-1727

Rome was for centuries the epicenter of culture, art, and religion. At the time of Giuseppe Chiari’s birth, it was also “the scene of a lively debate with a constantly varying interplay of influences, trends, fashions, specialized treatises, and, of course, great masterpieces” (Zuffi, p. 64). At the center of this debate were three artistic movements that Zuffi notes “succeeded one another in a sort of ideal relay race of artistic styles.” The stark naturalism of Caravaggio, the elegant classicism of Annibale Carracci, and the dramatic baroque sculptures and architecture of Gian Lorenzo Bernini would all play a part in making 17th-century Rome—well, Rome!

As president of the Roman Academy Carlo Maratta was keenly aware of these lively debates. Considered one of the most important painters in the latter half of the 17th century, he was much admired for his beautiful frescos and stunning portraits. Although his work evidenced a clear admiration for the classical tradition, several of his paintings also integrated elements of Caravaggio’s vigorous style. David Steel points out that Maratta often “managed to steer a middle course between these two dominant and often contrary trends of baroque painting” (Steel, p. 88).

Maratta was at the summit of his career in 1666 when 12-year-old Giuseppe Chiari entered the great master’s studio. Chiari soon became a star pupil. Over the years, his profound respect for Maratta’s tutelage would not only shape his artistic development but also ensure his future success in a highly competitive environment. When Maratta died in 1713, Chiari took up Maratta’s mantle and became the dominant Roman artist.

Like Maratta, Chiari broadened his appeal by becoming an astute observer and deft practitioner of integrating stylistic trends. Kathrine and William Wallace highlight this skill in their comparative analysis of Chiari’s Tedallini altarpiece with Caravaggio’s Madonna dei Pellegrini [figs. 1 and 2]:

“The statuesque pose of Chiari’s Madonna, the unusually high step on which she stands, the elongated form of the Christ child framed by a white swaddling cloth, and the overall right-triangular composition recall Caravaggio’s Madonna dei Pellegrini. Yet the suggestion is subtle: Chiari has reversed the composition, naturalized the pose of the Virgin, and substituted the more palatable, well-dressed saints for the dirty feet and common character of Caravaggio’s pilgrims. Although inspired by Caravaggio, Chiari’s altarpiece remains distinctly his own. Chiari’s Madonna looks like a person of warm flesh and blood rather than the marmoreal statue of Caravaggio’s Madonna; Christ is an attractive child of sweet disposition as opposed to the enormous and ungainly figure depicted by the older master. Instead of the muted and earthy colors of the Madonna dei Pellegrini, Chiari’s bright hues are immediately pleasing and a welcome contrast to the comparatively dark paintings found on so many Roman altars” (p. 4).

The Return from the Flight into Egypt provides another example of Chiari’s virtuosity and unique style. Here, however, he turns from echoing the past to adumbrating the future. The refined handling of the paint and elegant figural poses pay homage to the classical tradition; however, the playfulness, delicate coloration, and ornamental enrichment mark the transition into the sensuous, intimate style of the rococo movement which emerged in France and spread throughout Europe in the 18th century (Chilvers, 507).

M&G has two works by Chiari on this subject, one titled The Rest on the Flight into Egypt and this rendering titled The Return from the Flight into Egypt. Over the years scholars have found the less traditional title of this 1712 work problematic. However, “the light-hearted, almost celebratory mood” (echoed in the Rococo style) reinforce the idea that here, Chiari intends to highlight the family’s return from rather than flight into Egypt. Regardless of the debate, art experts like Christopher Johns note that this picture may be the best example of Chiari’s work in America.

 

Donnalynn Hess, M&G Director of Education

 

Resources:

Baroque Paintings from the Bob Jones University Collection by David H. Steel

Baroque Painting: Twenty Centuries of Masterpieces from the Era Preceding the Dawn of Modern Art, edited by Stefano Zuffi

Concise Dictionary of Art and Artists, 3rd edition by Ian Chilvers

“Giuseppe Bartolomeo Chiari,” The Art Bulletin, March, 1968, Vol. 50, No. 1 by Bernhard Kerber and Franciscono Renate

“Seeing Chiari Clearly,” Artibus Et Historiae, 2012, Vol. 33, No. 66 by Katherine M. Wallace and William Wallace

 

Published 2024

Object of the Month: October 2024

Bust of Athena

Porcelain

Unknown Sculptor, after Paul Duboy

French, 1860-1880

M&G’s magnificent porcelain bust of a female warrior presents the viewer with two fascinating mysteries.

Who Crafted It? 

The bust has no signature or manufacture’s marks. The base does, but documented provenance of the piece, which dates to the mid-twentieth century, reveals that the base is not original to the sculpture. Experts have examined M&G’s bust and place its manufacture in France between 1860 and 1880. At that time similar, elaborately dressed busts were popular, and the techniques needed to produce the richly colored glazes for the clothing and accessories while leaving smooth, lightly colored biscuit porcelain for the skin and various details had been perfected. The contrast between the solid, smooth, glossy sections and the soft, matte texture of the biscuit sections heightens the visual interest of works like these.

Paul Duboy (1830-1887), a French sculptor, exhibited his sculpture at the prestigious Paris Salon from 1853-1882. Duboy made and signed busts similar to M&G’s sculpture, which lacks his elaborate signature on its back. Yet, because of its similarity to his other works, authorities have suggested using “in the manner of” or “after” Paul Duboy.

Who Is This Female Warrior? 

From the pantheon of candidates, the personification of the French Republic has been suggested. During the French Revolution, Marianne embodied the qualities valued by French citizens: liberty, equality, fraternity, and reason. M&G’s bust, however, lacks the Phrygian cap, laurel wreath or spiked diadem, and other visual symbols attributed to Marianne.

The Greek goddess Athena is a more likely candidate. Zeus, the chief Greek deity, was her father. Legend tells that Athena sprang full-grown from Zeus’s forehead dressed in complete Greek armor. As the goddess of war, Athena participated in the Trojan War and has generally been portrayed with a spear or bow and arrows. She was also the goddess of domestic handicrafts, animal husbandry, and wisdom. Generally, she used her wisdom to supply warriors with the tactics, strategy, and inspiration needed to defeat enemies. Animal symbols associated with Athena include the owl and snake, both representing wisdom (she also cursed Medusa with hair of snakes), and the horse referencing her teaching man how to tame the animal. While an unusual artistic reference, perhaps the horses on M&G’s helmet symbolize this lore. The eagle-winged dragon atop M&G’s helmet, however, has no known Athenian reference.

Another possible female warrior may be Minerva, the Roman version of Athena. The two share similar attributes, but the Roman goddess of war is usually depicted wearing an Attic helmet, which does not cover the face but often has ear guards, and may have decorative elements on top. Roman soldiers typically wore Attic helmets and variations were common after the fall of the Roman empire. M&G’s bust wears a greatly-modified and highly-decorated Attic helmet.

Virtually all artist renderings of both Athena and Minerva wear loose-fitting Greco-Roman garments, even when they wear armor. M&G’s bust is elaborately dressed and draped in the manner of many busts from the period of its manufacture. She also wears hints of decorative gold armor and a massive, ornate gold chain.

Some of the busts produced in this period are identified as famous individuals and with a name included on the sculpture. Most, however, are simply beautiful works of art with generic titles, not based on any specific individual. M&G’s bust may simply be a beautiful porcelain piece by an unknown, skilled artist depicting a female warrior.

The bust has presented more mysteries than answers. However, if you examine the piece closely you can be assured of two things: you will be impressed with its artistic quality and beauty, and you will gain a better understanding of the phrase “a porcelain complexion.”

 

Bill Pinkston, retired educator and M&G volunteer

 

Published 2024

 

 

Object of the Month: September 2024

Credenza

Walnut

Italian, 15th or 16th century

Gift of Paul W. Doll

In 1970, one of the Museum & Gallery’s primary early donors contributed this piece—a 15th-16th century carved walnut Credenza. As a furnishing, credenzas began as functioning sideboards, the top of which were meant for preparation and presentation of food. Long, low cabinets, often featuring drawers or doors for storing dishes and glasses, credenzas were often draped with expensive fabrics in wealthier homes.

Taken from medieval Latin, credenza means “belief” or “confidence” (sharing its derivation with our English word, “credence”). In our modern mindset, it is somewhat difficult to comprehend how the idea of “confidence” might have been wedded to a piece of wooden furniture, but it likely began as an association of the act of testing a noble’s food for poison.

Lest we discount such a probability, it’s helpful to understand the historical context. As far back as A.D. 1198, the Jewish doctor and philosopher Maimonides wrote a treatise on the subject for his employer, Sultan Saladin of Egypt and Syria. Maimonides gave detailed instruction, urging Saladin to insist his server or host eat a large portion of each dish before beginning to eat his own.

It seems unlikely to us that the need to test food could be so great, but historical examples may aid here.  During the reign of Henry VIII in 16th-century England (the era in which M&G’s Credenza was constructed in Italy), the king employed some 200 persons in Hampton Court’s kitchens alone. While other European royalty and nobility may have employed smaller staffs, there was still ample opportunity for poisoning a ruler’s food. As servants delivered dishes to the dining room, they placed the dishes on the piece of furniture where credence tests for poisons were conducted, a literal credenza.

The face of M&G’s 16th-century walnut credenza was crafted of five solid boards, with overlay panels applied over each.  Each of these panels is ornamented with detailed carving—four of these featuring profile busts of Renaissance figures (a technique called romayne). Each pair of these panels form doors, and the doors flank a fixed central panel carved with a grotesque mask. Hovering above the five front panels are three drawers, largely camouflaged by detailed fluted carving. The two end panels are simpler, each contain a distinctively Italian carved rosette and each lack the fluted frieze at the top. Along the front of the top plank are periodic dowel caps, indicating that the top is formed of smaller individual planks.

This style of carved Renaissance credenza is typical of both France and Italy, but individual elements indicate that this piece is most likely from Northern Italy, while still reflecting influences from the surrounding countries. Construction, materials, and ornamentation help to date the Credenza to the end of the 15th century to the middle of the 16th. Specifically, the detailed clothing of the men and women carved on the face of this credenza is like a Renaissance time capsule. The winged helmet worn by the first male (far left), for instance, depicts a sallet, a combat helmet which replaced the bascinet (helmet) in the mid-15th century. Later sallets dispensed with face protection and featured gracefully curved surfaces. These were preferred by more lightly armed troops and suggest that this credenza was built no earlier than about A.D. 1460.

Fascinating historic pieces such as M&G’s Credenza provide windows through which we understand the lives and culture of those who came before us and, in this case, an era upon which much of our modern Western civilization is built.

 

Dr. Stephen B. Jones, M&G volunteer

 

Object of the Month: August 2024

The Visitation

Oil on canvas, signed and dated lower left: L. Boulogne le J.f. 1688 

Louis de Boullogne, the Younger

French, 1654-1733

Louis de Boullogne, the Younger is a second-generation French painter who with his brother studied at the French Academy and also in Rome. Unlike most other students, however, Boullogne later taught at the Paris Academy and then became its director. He went on to become First Painter to King Louis XIV. His work is known throughout France, especially at Versailles.

When one encounters a work of art, one often has a visceral reaction to some aspect of the work. No doubt the vibrant colors in The Visitation by Louis de Boullogne are a lovely invitation into an appreciation of the painting. In the mid-1800s, Charles George, the Commissaire-Expert of the Louvre, complimented the choice of color and even the “fresh and graceful” brushstrokes. But to really understand a work, one must know the subject matter; after all, the work is but a vehicle for the meaning.

The title refers to the visit of the Virgin Mary to her cousin Elizabeth shortly after Gabriel announced that God had chosen Mary to bear the Messiah (Luke 1). Elizabeth herself had also been the recipient of God’s grace. Mirroring Sarah and Abraham, Elizabeth and Zechariah (also Zacharias) were old and childless. But God sent Gabriel to meet Zechariah with a message of miraculous birth three months before the angel appeared to Mary.

To visit the one who can best sympathize with her situation, Mary travels nearly one hundred miles “in haste,” needing encouragement, for the public ordeal that will doubtless come from her pregnancy. Nazareth was a small town, and “bad” news always travels fast. As Mary greets Elizabeth, now openly six-months pregnant, the baby (John as he will be called) leaps “in her womb for joy.” This first meeting of the cousins—John the Baptist, the Way-Preparer and Christ the Messiah—foreshadows the joy of their partnership in turning the hearts of Israel toward God.

Both mothers have crucial roles to play in the redemption story. Though Elizabeth is the elder and Mary the visitor, Boullogne places the characters on the same step of the house. Their mirrored poses—clasped right hands and left hands placed on one another’s shoulders—show their equality as well. Both mothers are handmaidens of the Lord, being the fulfillment of Isaiah’s prophecies. This certainty of God’s hand upon them gives both women the strength they need to endure the whispers and stares of their community.

Elizabeth’s response to Mary’s unrecorded greeting, wondering that “the mother of my Lord” would come to visit her and blessing Mary and the “fruit of her womb” prompts Mary’s own praise of “God [her] Savior.” Both Mary and Elizabeth know their place in the redemption story—recipients of the Messiah’s saving work.

Possibly influenced by the school of Carlo Maratta, Boullogne chose colors and brushstrokes to make this a winsome and charming portrayal of two godly women. Zechariah as the elder forerunner is thus placed superior to Christ on the steps, yet his son John’s fame and ministry will decrease as the Messiah Himself rises in prominence. Joseph’s presence is not noted in the biblical text, which is an appropriate omission for this first-recorded recognition of the Son of God by those He came to save.

 

Dr. Karen Rowe Jones, M&G board member

 

Published 2024

 

Object of the Month: July 2024

Christ the Redeemer

Oil on panel, c. 1545

Paris Bordone

Venetian, 1500-1571

Museums are filled with works of art of all shapes and sizes. Of course, the large paintings immediately grab a viewer’s attention. However, it is sometimes the small pieces that bring viewers in close and create intimate connections. One of these examples from the Museum & Gallery is a work called Christ the Redeemer. It is a half-length portrait of Christ holding a book, and with its frame it is only around 18 inches by 15 inches. Despite its somewhat simple subject matter and small stature, this painting draws you in and raises questions.

One question woven into the work is the identification of the artist. Various art historians confirm its sixteenth-century Venetian origins because of its color palette and brushwork. When the painting originally became part of the Museum collection in 1954, the artist attached to it was the Venetian Renaissance master Titian. Regarded by his contemporaries as “The Sun Amidst Small Stars,” Titian had a successful career throughout his life and his studio became one of the most influential of the Italian Renaissance. There are specific similarities between Titian’s other portraits of Christ and this Christ the Redeemer such as facial features, the treatment of the hands, as well as previous miniatures created by Titian—which seem to confirm the master’s authorship. However, more recent art historians claim that while the panel is certainly Titianesque, the more likely artist is another Venetian painter, Paris Bordone. Bordone studied under Titian and emulated the master’s style so well that many of Bordone’s works have been misattributed to Titian’s hand. He may not have had as glittering a career as Titian, but Bordone was a successful painter, earning respect and fame during his lifetime.

Another question is the iconography of the painting. The portrait of Christ with a book is not an uncommon one. It reflects the words from John 1:1, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” Since Early Christian art, Christ has been shown either enthroned in majesty or surrounded by various saints holding a book, which is more than likely the Gospels. What becomes interesting is this iconography continues in Eastern Orthodox art, but becomes rare in post-Medieval Western art. One reason Bordone may have included this iconography is because it was similar to another kind of portrait—a scholar. Portraits of scholarly gentlemen or philosophers were common across Italy. M&G includes an example of these portraits with Giambattista Tiepolo’s A Philosopher Holding a Book. Using a familiar portrait pose, viewers could relate to Christ in the context of the ultimate Rabbi and teacher.

Another reason Bordone may have chosen this pose and iconography is because of its size and purpose. Less than two feet on each side, this painting is a perfect example of a cabinet painting. From the fifteenth century on, wealthy patrons would purchase these small, detailed paintings to hang in small, intimate spaces in their vast homes. These spaces, called cabinets, functioned as small offices or sitting rooms. Because of its size, the cabinet painting draws the viewer in and creates an intimate connection. Knowing this, it is understandable why Bordone may have created Christ in such a pose. It allows the viewer an opportunity to sit one-on-one with the Master Rabbi.

No matter the reasoning of the iconography or even which artist created the work, Christ the Redeemer is an intriguing painting. Like its original purpose, the small panel captivates the viewer. Maybe it will also cause the viewer to ask questions. Maybe it will draw the viewer closer to Christ as the ultimate teacher and incarnate Word in flesh.

 

KC Christmas Beach, M&G summer educator

 

Published 2024

Object of the Month: June 2024

St. Sebastian Aided by St. Irene

Oil on canvas

Dirck van Baburen (attr. to)

Dutch, c. 1594–d. 1624

In 1581 several provinces in the Netherlands joined in signing The Act of Abjuration, a declaration of independence freeing them from allegiance to Philip II of Spain. With this abjuration these self-governing territories became known as the United Provinces of the Netherlands or simply the Dutch Republic. In Baroque Painting: Two Centuries of Baroque Masterpieces Stefano Zuffi notes that by the early 1600s this Republic “enjoyed a private prosperity and social harmony that was unique.” Precise indicators of this prosperity included documentation noting a healthy daily consumption of calories, high literacy rates, and peaceful co-existence among a diverse religious population. Equally interesting is the fact that these provinces also had “the highest ratio in Europe of works of art, particularly paintings, to number of inhabitants” (Zuffi, p. 154).  This cultural backdrop produces a stunning array of artistic talent—Rembrandt, Vermeer, Frans Hals, Heemskerck, Honthorst, Terbrugghen, and the subject of this article Dirck van Baburen.

Although we know that Baburen was born in Utrecht in the late sixteenth century, pinpointing the precise year of his birth is not easily done. For example, in a 2007 monograph on the artist noted scholar Leonard Slatkes puts the date circa 1595. However, art historian Wayne Franits argues for an earlier date, circa 1592. According to Franits this date makes more sense because it places the painter “at an appropriate age for completing his training. . .and traveling to Rome.” Regardless, both scholars agree that the young Dirck began his career under the tutelage of Paulus Moreelse. Moreelse was a distinguished portrait painter who along with Abraham Bloemaert founded Utrecht’s “St. Lucas-gilde.”

After completing his training in 1612 Baburen set out for Italy. He soon settled in the “Eternal City” of Rome. There he came under the spell of the Caravaggisti—stylistic followers of the famed Michelangelo Caravaggio (1571-1610). Caravaggio was one of the most original and influential painters of the 17th century. What set him apart was the dramatic illumination of his canvases which he created by using dark tonalities punctuated with bright shafts of light. This technique called tenebrism is derived from the Italian word, tenebroso, meaning dark or gloomy. Figures 1 and 2 not only illustrate Caravaggio’s innovative technique but also point to the impact of this technique on followers like Baburen.

In comparing Baburen’s canvas to Caravaggio’s Wayne Franits writes: “The Dutch painter’s famed altarpiece The Entombment (Fig. 1), [was] painted in 1617 as part of a group of canvases . . . to adorn the Pietà Chapel in the church of San Pietro. . . . It is well known that The Entombment testifies to its maker’s knowledge of . . . Caravaggio’s famous painting of the same subject (fig. 2), which hung at that time in the Vittrice Chapel in Santa Maria in Vallicella. Van Baburen’s exposure to Caravaggio’s work must have impressed upon him the fact that strongly illuminated figures set against a dark background literally stand out forcefully within a dusky chapel. Van Baburen also deployed the same basic compositional structure as Caravaggio, with its wedgelike arrangement of figures set at a diagonal, cascading downward toward the body of the dead Christ. In van Baburen’s Entombment, however, the stone of the tomb, which, like the Italian’s, also serves as the stone of unction (with its eucharistic implications), is more tablelike while the body of Christ has been rendered in an upright, almost seated position.”

Baburen would return to Utrecht in 1620 where he, along with  Gerrit van Honthorst and Hendrick Terbrugghen formed the Utrecht Caravaggisti. Although he died only four years later, his style continued to develop becoming less Italian and more distinctly Dutch. A comparison of M&G’s St. Sebastian Aided by St. Irene to an earlier version he completed while in Rome (Fig. 3) highlights these distinctions especially in the physical appearance of the characters. St. Sebastian was the patron saint of plague victims and a popular subject in religious art throughout the 17th century. The article by Armand P. Gelpi in the Resources section provides a detailed overview of his iconography and connection to the plague.

Dirck van Baburen died in February 1624; he was buried in the medieval parish church of Buurkerk.  His teacher Paulus Moreelse would be laid to rest there 9 years later.

 

 

Donnalynn Hess, Director of Education

 

Resources:

Baroque Painting: Two Centuries of Baroque Masterpieces, Ed. Stefano Zuffi

“Religious Policies in the Seventeenth-Century Dutch Republic,” Jo Spanns

“Dirck van Baburen and the ‘Self-Taught’ Master, Angelo Caroselli,” Wayne Franits

“Saint Sebastian and the Black Death,” Armand P. Gelpi, MD

Saint Sebastian Attended by Saint Irene and Her Maid, Dirck van Baburen (attributed to)

 

Published 2024

Object of the Month: May 2024

The Flight from Sodom

Oil on canvas, c. 1630

Matthias Stomer

Dutch, c. 1600–after 1649

Very little is known about the artistic training of Dutch master Matthias Stomer. His works have similarities to Gerrit van Honthorst and Abraham Janssens, both in M&G’s collection. He spent some time in Rome being influenced by Caravaggio as did many of his contemporary fellow artists. He seems to have settled in Sicily and painted many biblical subjects. Though some think M&G’s The Flight from Sodom is derivative of a Rubens’ work of the same title at the Ringling in Sarasota, Florida, Stomer simply tells the “rest of the story.”

Genesis 19 reveals that the escape of Lot and his family from Sodom has two stages. First, God warns Lot of the impending destruction of Sodom for its immorality and wickedness and tells him to gather his family and escape the fate of the city. Unfortunately, his efforts are rebuffed by his sons-in-law. The delay means he is still in the city at daybreak. Then he is commanded, “Escape for thy life; look not behind thee, neither stay thou in all the plain; escape to the mountain.” But in fear, Lot begs to escape to a “little” city nearby rather than the mountain of God’s dictum. God mercifully allows this change, saving Zoar from destruction for Lot’s sake.

Stomer paints the second part of the drama: Lot’s negotiating his escape into Zoar. Lot’s wife is near the back of the group, signifying her growing reluctance to leave. Her faraway gaze shows her preoccupation with the past. She will eventually look back and be turned into a pillar of salt as punishment. In the foreground the blond daughter carries a basket of gold household items and engages the audience with a direct gaze. Is she asking for sympathy? For approval of her father’s plan? She definitely challenges the viewer to contemplate the event. The other daughter, mostly hidden, carries a cloth bundle on her head. She gazes straight ahead, intent on escaping with her life.

Lot clutches his red robe to him. Is he facilitating his gait or visually showing his reluctance to leave by grasping the rich garment that indicates his prominence? His raised eyebrows indicate a question for the leading angel. His open left palm indicates that the question asked is reasonable, almost a “what about?” gesture. The lead angel looks astonished at the request, mirroring Lot’s hand position with one hand while pointing definitively forward with the other, as if to say, “You want to go there?” The second angel’s hand lies near his chin, like the professor’s “stroking his beard” as he considers a student’s idea. Lot suggests a change of plan, and the angels seem to have differing opinions on it.

It may be reading too much into the painting to see in the half-shaved little dog a lesson that Lot and his family are escaping by the “skin of their teeth.” However, the running dog has more sense than Lot who has dawdled at every turn of the story, even with his life at stake. Stomer’s background indicates that the family has taken all night to leave the city (Genesis 19:16 states that the angels had to “set him without the city”). The morning has come—the time when Lot finishes his “flight” since “the sun was risen upon the earth when Lot entered into Zoar” (19:23). Ironically, even Stomer doesn’t finish the story. Lot and his daughters eventually find Zoar inhospitable, and the evil that Lot dreaded “in the mountain” comes to pass.

Dr. Karen Rowe Jones, M&G board member

 

Special Note:

Scholars have discovered that Stomer used “Naples yellow,” a color created by combining antimony and lead. First mentioned in the late 17th century, Naples yellow appears in Stomer’s early work. Determining whether the blond daughter’s robe uses Naples yellow, might facilitate dating The Flight from Sodom within Stomer’s oeuvre.

Botticelli, Michela, Costanza Miliani, Eva Luna Ravan, Claudia Caliri, and Francesco Paolo Romano. 2024. “Naples Yellow Revisited: Insights into Trades and Use in 17th-Century Sicily from the Macro X-ray Fluorescence Scanning of Matthias Stomer’s ‘The Mocking of Christ’” Heritage 7, no. 3: 1188-1201. https://doi.org/10.3390/heritage7030057

 

Published 2024

 

Object of the Month: April 2024

Cassone

Walnut with parcel gilt

Tuscan, 16th century

While the Museum & Gallery is most widely known for its collection of religious Old Master paintings, the founder of the museum also developed “supplemental collections of period furniture, icons, decorative arts, textiles, and objects of art” (Drama & Beauty: Great European Paintings from the Bob Jones Collection). The original intent of these sub-collections was to provide a setting for the artwork that would allow modern viewers to understand and appreciate the religious and domestic contexts in which the paintings might first have been displayed.

By the 1970s notable authorities of furniture considered these once-ancillary collections to rival some of the world’s best. Joseph Aronson, who wrote a number of authoritative histories of furniture, “considered the Renaissance furniture collection the finest in America” and lent his expertise to write a catalog containing Furniture in the Bob Jones University Collection, which was published in connection with M&G’s 25th anniversary celebration in 1976.

Specifically, this Italian Renaissance walnut and parcel-gilt Cassone epitomizes the history, breadth, and educational value of M&G’s period furniture collection. Purchased for the collection in 1966, the Cassone came from French & Company, in New York City. Founded in 1907, French & Company was once considered one of the world’s largest dealers and had provided art, furnishings, and even interior design to some of the best-known families of America’s Gilded Age, including the Vanderbilts, Astors, Gettys, Rockefellers, Mellons, and duPonts (and subsequently in the collections of the major museums endowed by those families). The company thrived under its first two generations of leadership and was noted for its library of documentation, which provided purchasers with exhaustive histories (or provenance) of the items acquired. The company was then sold several times, and much of its remaining stock was auctioned in 1968. M&G is pleased to provide a home for a number of French & Company pieces.

The history of cassoni dates back to the fourteenth century. Originally functioning as wedding chests for new couples—and paraded through the streets in wedding procession—cassoni often contained the bride’s dowry and became cherished treasures in newly established homes. The decoration of cassoni grew in sophistication over the years and entire workshops were devoted to the artform. Frequently portraying Biblical, classical, or mythological subject matter, the front panels of these chests displayed any number of craftsmanship, from carving and gilding to built-up gesso decoration and painting. Even notable artists such as Sandro Botticelli, Paolo Uccello, and Donatello applied their skills to decorate cassoni for the wealthiest clientele.

M&G’s Cassone likely dates from 16th-century Tuscany and is constructed of carved walnut. Standing on diagonally-set lion paws, the chest’s special features include gilded gadrooning, the detailed and deeply-set carving on the front and side panels, as well as the ogee dome molding. The unique top paired with the end panels shifts the most intricately carved subject matter to the front of the chest and only the front two-thirds of each side (figure 1).  This technique differs from the usual appearance of cassone, which are most often depicted at the foot of a couple’s bed in Renaissance art. It’s likely that this particular cassone was commissioned to solve a specific architectural challenge in its new home—possibly resting in the shallow recess of a wall or passageway. As such, it is not typical of the traditional traveling chest, but represents “a step in the evolution of the credenza form” (Aronson).

Also of interest, the remarkably dimensional, carved frieze (figure 2) has been variously explained as a battle scene or a depiction of Death riding an ox-drawn chariot through a sacrificial scene. The key clues in the frieze include bystanders observing the action from the safety of colonnades on the left and right. Most prominently on the front left is a woman holding a round vessel and a man who appears to be strangling a sheep held aloft in front of him. The front right draws the viewer’s focus to a king, surrounded by an entourage. The central figure in the scene is indeed a man on an ox-drawn chariot, riding through a plain, which is covered by furrows and ridges. Near him are 5 warriors with weapons drawn. More difficult to see in the distance above him on the plain (moving from left to right) are a ridged-back dragon, a tree, and a walled city on a hill.

Since cassoni often depict a felicitous message for newlyweds, using classical, biblical, or mythological imagery, deciphering the elements is a fascinating undertaking. In the case of this M&G cassone, newlyweds are reminded of the exploits and love contained in the story of Jason and Medea. While there are many Greek and Roman variations of the story, the key elements remain.

Jason’s father was the rightful king of Iolcus, but was overthrown by his half-brother, Pelias. Jason’s life was saved by his mother, who sent him away to be protected and educated by the centaur Chiron. When Jason returned and wished to re-take the throne, Pelias required that he undertake a quest to find and return the Golden Fleece from where it lay in Colchis. After a series of adventures Jason and the crew of his ship Argo (hence the collective name Argonauts) arrived in Colchis, where Jason requested the fleece from King Aietes. Aietes agreed to give Jason the Golden Fleece if he accomplished three feats of bravery intended to be deadly to Jason. Unknown to the king, his daughter, Medea, was charmed to fall in love with Jason and help him survive and succeed.

First, Aietes required that Jason plow a field with fire-breathing oxen, but Medea gave him an ointment to protect him from the flames. Jason next had to sow the field with dragon’s teeth.  When he did so, the teeth turned into full-grown warriors (spartoi). They would have killed Jason, had he not been told how to defeat them. He threw a stone into their midst and the confused warriors, not knowing who had thrown the stone, attacked each other.

Finally, Jason had to retrieve the Golden Fleece from where it hung on an oak in the sacred grove of Ares. The grove was protected by an undying, unsleeping dragon. Here again Medea protected Jason by administering an herbal potion that made the dragon sleep. Finally, the hero and his love Medea flee from her father and return to take the Iolcus throne from Jason’s uncle. Unfortunately, their happiness was short-lived; but that part of the couple’s story is—understandably—not portrayed by the artisan of this very special Cassone.

 

Dr. Stephen B. Jones, M&G volunteer

 

Sources

www.getty.edu

www.metmuseum.org

www.historycooperative.org

Aronson, Joseph.  Furniture in the Bob Jones University Collection. 1976.

Drama & Beauty: Great European Paintings from the Bob Jones Collection. Museum & Gallery, Inc. in association with D. Giles Limited, 2022.

 

Published 2024

Object of the Month: March 2024

Crucifix

Tempera and gold on panel, c. 1380

Francesco di Vannuccio

Sienese, active c. 1356-1389

Among the many treasures in M&G’s collection hangs a unique and exemplary example of late fourteenth-century Italian art. In 1374, the Black Death struck the city of Siena and its surrounding countryside for the third time in twenty-six years. The return of the plague devastated the city, which was already struggling from political and economic instability. Tragically, most of the victims of this wave of the Black Death were children. In the wake of this period of grief, an unknown patron commissioned Sienese artist Francesco di Vannuccio to paint a crucifix or croce dipinta (painted cross) for his or her church. During the fourteenth century, large painted crucifixes were a fixture in Italian churches. They depicted Christ dead on the cross flanked by Mary and John the Evangelist and were often highly decorated in gold. Positioned above the altar, these crucifixes provided a focal point for worshippers.

Francesco’s patron included an unusual request: the image of Mary Magdalene facing out toward the worshipper with her hands raised in the ancient orans pose of prayer. Of the 214 surviving Italian fourteenth-century crucifixes, only fourteen have Mary Magdalene present. Of those, only one intact crucifix, M&G’s, features this extremely rare imagery of Mary Magdalene. With its unique depiction of a ministering female saint, Francesco’s crucifix was born out of the need for spiritual solace in the aftermath of the Black Death.

Little is known about Francesco di Vannuccio. Few of his paintings survive. He signed only one work, a double-sided panel now housed in Berlin’s Gemäldegalerie. Despite this small surviving body of work, all of Francesco’s paintings demonstrate that he possessed a keen eye for intricate decoration. He was also closely attuned to the religious concerns of his day. Francesco’s depictions of physical and emotional suffering made him stand out among his fellow artists. In his crucifix, Christ’s arms are pulled taut by the weight of His body. His fingers curl and His feet twist around the piercing nails. Blood spurts in a wide arc from the wound in His chest and drips from His head, hands, and feet. While other crucifixes show the mother of Christ serenely grieving, Francesco painted her face deeply lined in anguish. Poignantly, she reaches for her Son, something not seen in any other fourteenth-century crucifixes. Francesco’s Mary is a mother mourning the loss of her Child, a sight many worshippers would have personally related to following the third outbreak of the Black Death.

Beneath Christ’s feet, Mary Magdalene prays. Despite being one of the most popular female saints during the fourteenth century, Mary Magdalene’s presence in crucifixes is rare. Most depict her small in scale contemplating the cross. She does not directly engage with the worshipper as Francesco’s does. During the fourteenth century, Mary Magdalene was revered both as the “blessed sinner” (tradition combined her with the repentant sinful woman in Luke 7) and as the “apostle to the apostles” because of her encounter with the resurrected Christ and her role of spreading the news to His other followers. Painting the blood flowing down to her head and her bright red robes, Francesco depicted Mary Magdalene as being baptized in Christ’s blood. With her hands raised in the orans position and facing the worshipper, Francesco also depicted her as the “apostle to the apostles.” The ancient orans pose represented the worshipper’s openness to God’s grace and was a gestural expression of faith in Christ’s death and resurrection. By the fourteenth century, this prayer position was reserved solely for the clergy. Thus, Francesco’s Mary Magdalene is an apostle actively ministering to the worshippers.

Painting Mary Magdalene in this active role, Francesco and his patron were likely inspired by Catherine of Siena (1347-1380). Catherine was a writer and preacher who advocated spiritual reform. She was beloved for her piety and her healing the sick during the third wave of the Black Death. In her ministry, Catherine looked to Mary Magdalene as an example of religious devotion and service. Writing to her female followers, she urged them to “follow the Magdalen, that lovely woman in love, who never let go of the tree of the most holy cross. No, with perseverance she was bathed in the blood of God’s Son…she so filled her memory and heart and understanding with it that she became incapable of loving anything but Christ Jesus.” Mary Magdalene’s love for Christ drove her to brave the Roman soldiers guarding the tomb and proclaim the news of the Resurrection to anyone who would listen.

For worshippers living in the grief-filled years of the late fourteenth century, the sight of Mary Magdalene offered comfort both in the cleansing power of Christ’s sacrifice and His Resurrection. Almost six and a half centuries later, the message of Francesco di Vannuccio’s gleaming cross continues to resonate today.

 

Dr. Allison Wynne Raper, Adjunct Instructor at York Technical College

 

For further reading:

Ole J. Benedictow. The Complete History of the Black Death. Woodbridge, Suffolk: The Boydell Press, 2021.

Catherine of Siena. The Letters of Catherine of Siena. Translated by Suzanne Noffke, O.P. 4 Volumes. Tempe, AZ: Arizona Center for Medieval and Renaissance Studies, 2000-2008.

Katherine Ludwig Janson. The Making of the Magdalene: Preaching and Popular Devotion in Late Medieval Italy. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2000.

 

Published 2024