Tag Archives: 16th century

Object of the Month: April 2025

Descent from the Cross

Polychrome and giltwood, c. 1570

Unknown Spanish, 16^th century

Renaissance artists employed various media and techniques to communicate their subject matter with power and beauty. This mid- to late-16th-century giltwood and polychrome relief by an unnamed artist (likely Spanish) demonstrates both artistic mastery and devotional power. It was once part of a larger altarpiece yet communicates clearly on its own.

A relief sculpture is normally attached to a background of the same material, and the degree of projection from that surface determines the terms used. Low relief, or bas-relief, project only a little. High relief denotes significant freedom from the background and can look like the figures are about to burst free from their surrounds. Finally, in sunken relief (or intaglio), subjects are carved below the level of their surroundings.

Gilding, the decorative technique of applying a thin layer of gold on a solid surface, dates back to Egypt. Herodotus mentions the Egyptians’ skill in gilding wood and metal, and many examples of their work remain to this day. The Sumerians (with objects dating back to 2600-2400 B.C.), Ancient Chinese, Old Testament Israelites, Ancient Greeks and Romans also utilized very thin sheets of hammered gold to overlay important objects of wood, stone and metal.

To produce fine furniture or sculpture, artists first carved plain woods like pine, beech or limewood. They then

added numerous layers of gesso (a type of plaster made by mixing fine chalk or gypsum with animal glue and water). Initial applications of the gesso filled imperfections in the wood, and subsequent layers built up a smooth surface that could be carved with greater detail than wood and rendered a top layer that could be gilt, painted, or otherwise decorated. The depth and crispness of this final surface indicates the craftsman’s skill.

The quality of M&G’s relief sculpture shows gilding expertise, but its polychromy adds to its power. Polychrome (literally, “many colored”)—pigmented wood, stone or terracotta—also dates to Egypt and the process refined over time. Over the millennia artists employed a wide range of pigments, painting media, and surface applications to embellish their work, and specialization occurred.

In Spain, the production of religious sculptures was governed by designated guilds. The Guild of Carpenters carved the wood and gesso, and the Guild of Painters was responsible for all decoration. Specific terminology came to describe specific skills. After the pieces were carved, painters used flesh tones for hands, faces, and feet (a process called Encarnacion). Estofado, which means “quilted silk,” was the skill of simulating rich fabrics through the layering of gold or silver leaf.

M&G’s sculpture demonstrates mastery of all these skills in an emotionally intense representation of Jesus’ followers lowering Him from the cross. Christ is the central figure—emphasized both by His placement on a diagonal in the center and by the fact that He is the only figure painted entirely in flesh tones. Around Him gather His mother, Mary (on the right), Mary Magdalene (immediate left, her hair cascading over her shoulder), Mary’s sister, and Mary the wife of Clopas. Behind Jesus, the Apostle John (at Christ’s right shoulder) and Nicodemus (left shoulder) bear the weight of His body. To the far right, two men pry open a sarcophagus. On the far left, stands Joseph of Arimathea, who had asked Pilate for Jesus’ body and donated both his new grave and linen to wrap Christ’s body. His headwear denotes Joseph’s status as a member of the Sanhedrin, and the striped pattern etched on its gilding matches that on the long swath of linen he is showing to the two women beside him. Taut carving of the trees, leaves, and clothing bring the scene to life and gilt patterns play across the various fabrics, the tomb, and the background plants and clouds. All of these techniques coalesce to convey the grief and dedication of Christ’s followers.

At the devotional center, as in history, is Jesus Christ—His redemptive work done, His burial imminent, and His victory over death yet to come.

Dr. Stephen B. Jones, M&G Volunteer

Bibliography

Metmuseum.org

Nationalgallery.org.uk

Hall’s Dictionary of Subjects and Symbols in Art, James Hall

Understanding Paintings: Themes in Art Explored and Explained, Alexander Sturgis and Hollis Clayson

Published 2025

St. John the Evangelist: Master of Cueza

This depiction of St. John the Evangelist by the Master of Cueza provides an intriguing look at various accoutrements used by medieval scribes.

Bonifazio Veronese

Sacred Conversation

Bonifazio de’ Pitati, called Bonifazio Veronese

Below the image, click play to listen.

Old Testament Characters: Pietro Negroni, called Il Giovane Zingaro

Roughly the same size, these beautifully rendered panels painted by Pietro Negroni most likely came from an altarpiece in a convent church in the Calabrian city of Cosenza.

Preparing to Depart for Canaan: Leandro Bassano, called Leandro da Ponte

This vibrant painting depicting Abraham and his family’s departure for Canaan features many of the details that the Bassano family were skilled in painting.

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: 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: 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