In this lovely Annunciation Dutch Golden Age artist, Pieter Fransz. de Grebber, follows the standard imagery–except for two details.
Tag Archives: Mary
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
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
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
Madonna and Child with St. John the Baptist
Polychrome terracotta
Italian, 17th century
The vast collection at the Museum & Gallery contains many hidden treasures that are sometimes overlooked. In my years working for the museum, I don’t remember coming across this piece. Or if I had, I did not give it too much thought as it was one of many pictorial examples of a common theme—the Madonna and Child with the infant St. John the Baptist. While this sculpture may not be one of the biggest or most recognizable, it is a reminder of humility.
The terracotta sculpture was made towards the beginning of the Italian Baroque. The dramatic movement, and attention to anatomical detail is very typical of Baroque art. Mary is portrayed as a graceful, ideal beauty; and the two infants, Jesus and St. John the Baptist, look like active children. Their leaning bodies and outstretched arms lead the viewer through the piece. In fact, this similar pose can be found in another work in the museum’s collection from the Italian Renaissance, Granacci’s Rest on the Flight into Egypt.
It also relates back to another famous visual interpretation of these three individuals—Leonardo da Vinci’s Virgin of the Rocks. There are obvious similarities, such as Mary’s arm wrapped around an adoring St. John the Baptist and Jesus blessing his infant cousin. What may not be as noticeable at first glance is the setting. Of course, one is a painting, and one is a sculpture, but they both feature figures sitting on rocks. This iconography is referred to as the Madonna of Humility. In earlier art history and even during the Renaissance, Mary is sometimes shown as the Queen of Heaven, enthroned in gold beside Jesus. However, in contrast, da Vinci and this Italian sculptor position Mary seated on the ground, which is a possible reference to her resting during their flight to Egypt. By sitting on the ground or on rocks, Mary demonstrates her humility before her Savior.
The Bible records an example of Mary’s meekness before the Lord in Luke 1:46-55. It was after she had received the news that she would give birth to Jesus Christ, the Son of God. Called her Magnificat, she begins by saying, “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for God has looked with favor on the humble estate of His servant. For behold, from now on all generations will call me blessed; for He who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is His name…”
While not large or ostentatious, this 19-inch terracotta sculpture is as humble as its subject matter. During the holiday season, we celebrate Christ’s birth that was only made possible through the humility of a young woman and the ultimate humbling for the Savior of the world to become flesh and dwell among us.
KC Christmas Beach, M&G summer educator
Published 2023
Mother of Sorrows (Mater Dolorosa)
Oil on panel
Anthony van Dyck
Flemish, 1599–1641
Baroque art is characterized by its emotional pull. Sotheby’s defines the typical qualities of Baroque art as works with rich colors, strong contrast, luscious brushwork, and subject matter that provokes passion, awe, and reverence. This expressive art movement stemmed from a religious response in the seventeenth century called the Counter-Reformation. Art mimicked life in the emotional appeal for mankind’s souls; Biblical stories were taken beyond quiet, respectful meditation and became captured “moments” of heightened drama. Still, there are a handful of Baroque works in existence that balance this emotion with restrained contemplation. One of which is the Museum & Gallery’s Mother of Sorrows by Antony van Dyck.
Anthony van Dyck (1599-1641) is considered one of the great Flemish painters of the seventeenth century. A child prodigy, van Dyck became connected with another great Flemish artist, Peter Paul Rubens, and worked alongside the master on many important commissions. Van Dyck became known for his portraits, and his talent opened doors for him in many courts of Europe. With an extensive and prestigious curriculum vitae painting clients in all their luxury and refinement, van Dyck’s Mother of Sorrows is a unique contrast.
The Mother of Sorrows or Mater Dolorosa depicts Mary grieving her dead Son. It was developed from the theme of the Virgin of the Seven Sorrows, which showed each anguish she experienced after the birth of Christ. In the sixteenth century, Mary’s mourning was usually represented alongside Christ, the Man of Sorrows. However, by the late sixteenth and seventeenth centuries in Northern Europe, artists began depicting Mary alone against an undefined background to highlight the emotion of a bereaved mother. When this work was created circa 1625-1630, van Dyck had spent time in Italy and created many historic and religious works focused on main characters in their own narrative. Unlike Rubens, van Dyck did not clutter the canvas with various other characters or subject matter, instead focusing on the psychology of the main subject.
In M&G’s Mother of Sorrows, van Dyck explores the emotion of one of the world’s most famous mothers. Mary, the mother of Jesus Christ, stands alone against a dark background. The contrast is so great she seems to glow under the intense chiaroscuro. The rich blue fabric softens the stark white veil, but also stands as a symbolic reminder of Mary’s virginity and status as the mother of the King of Kings. While not overwhelming in emotion compared to other contemporary interpretations, one can tell she is hurting. She leans forward with arms raised as if pleading. There is pentimenti, or earlier painting that has been covered over by the artist. Just under Mary’s outstretched hand is a faint remnant of a previously lower hand positioning. Art historians such as Gustav Gluck and Ludwig Burchard both agree this was created by van Dyck. It is believed that van Dyck did not spend more than one hour on each portrait. This leads the viewer to wonder why the artist adjusted the hand’s placement. Perhaps a lowered hand did not express the right amount of grief. Or perhaps a more uplifted hand shows Mary’s reliance on God in her darkest hour.
This work may not hold the same prestige as other van Dyck paintings. In fact, until 1864, it had been rather unknown since it was relatively inaccessible in a collection in St. Petersburg, Russia. However, it is a beautiful and rare work in van Dyck’s oeuvre. Gluck and Burchard applauded van Dyck’s color (which was heavily influenced by his time in Venice), his hand forms, and his portrayal of deep emotion. Gluck wrote, “the expression of the grieving face—a depth of feeling which is rare to the master’s work,” is a testament to how unique this painting is for its time. Viewers can resonate with this strong emotional moment of a grieving mother and reflect on one of the darkest moments in history, while also knowing the story does not end there.
KC Christmas Beach, M&G summer art educator
Published 2023
The Virgin Annunciate and The Archangel Gabriel
Oil on canvas, Monogrammed: AV (lower left)
Andrea Vaccaro
Neapolitan, c 1605-1670
Andrea Vaccaro initially trained with the mannerist artist Girolamo Imparato, but was influenced by several other prominent artists of the time: Stanzione, Reni, Ribera, and van Dyck as well as the early Neapolitan Caravaggisti. During his lifetime he was in demand for church altarpieces, public works, and private commissions by the wealthy. According to historian Anna Kiyomi Tuck-Scala, he was elected “first prefetto of the renewed Corporation of Painters” in Naples in 1665, making “him a model religious painter of the period.”
Vaccaro’s pendant paintings portray the moment that the angel Gabriel announces that God has chosen Mary to be the Messiah’s earthly mother, a role that had been aspired to by countless Jewish maidens since the Fall of Man. Traditionally addressed by Gabriel in her bedchamber, Mary is usually reading Scripture, doing needlework. The angel often brings white lilies, signifying Mary’s purity.
Here Vaccaro instead focuses on the two actors. Since the Messiah is God’s Son come to earth to redeem humanity through His life, death, and resurrection, Vaccaro presents His mother as both exquisitely beautiful and devout. The sculptural smoothness of her face and neck, the delicate skin tones and the rich jewel colors of her attire combine to portray her as the ideal daughter of Israel. Though her upraised left hand betrays her startlement, her face remains serene. Being found at her devotions shows a spirit as lovely as her figure. Perhaps she is reading the book of Isaiah where the prophecy of the Messiah’s coming is given? Gabriel’s reverent facial expression reveals him to be cognizant of his role—and his news.
While the figures are on separate canvases, the single light source and the chiaroscuro so associated with Caravaggio unite them in submission to God’s will: he as messenger, Mary as handmaid of the Lord. The earthly and heavenly come together, pre-figuring the Incarnation itself.
Similar works are also attributed to Vaccaro. The Ackland Art Museum at Chapel Hill has a more “standard” Gabriel who holds a stalk of lilies. His hands are the long-fingered Mannerist hands of Vaccaro’s early training. Artnet’s version of Mary’s portrait appears to use the same model as M&G’s, but the addition of the neck drape on M&G’s Mary creates a more elegant, idealized portrait.
The treatment of both Marys’ hands is intriguing. The left hands are similarly posed, but the right hand of Mary in the M&G’s collection (see above) is much fleshier, contrasting with the elongated fingers of the left. According to Riccardo Lattuada, Vaccaro used his monogram (clearly seen on Mary’s book) only during his “first mature stage, 1636-1640.” Perhaps the contrasting hands indicate the artist’s transition from his mannerist roots. If as Marchesa Vittoria Colonna suggests that “contemplation of religious paintings . . . encourage[s] meditation on the kingdom of heaven,” these companion works by Vaccaro indeed picture a beautiful moment in the history of the world—and of eternity—to ponder.
Dr. Karen Rowe Jones, M&G Board Member & volunteer
Sources Cited:
Marchesa Vittoria Colonna, Marchesa Vittoria. The Bob Jones University Collection of Religious Paintings, 1962.
Tuck-Scala, Anna Kiyomi. “The Documented Paintings and Life of Andrea Vaccaro (1604-1670),” 2003.
Published 2022
