#medievalmateriality

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.

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.

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.

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)

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