HEIDELBERG SCIVIAS

Selected pages from the Heidelberg manuscript of St. Hildegard of Bingen's Scivias:

HORROR VACUI



The invention of linear perspective, credited to Filippo Brunelleschi and the artists of the Florentine Renaissance, has long been presented as one of the great accomplishments of western art. According to the conventional wisdom, this discovery marks the beginning of a mature art of painting, an art of painting that shows things as they really are, as opposed to the primitive traditions that had lasted through the Middle Ages.

We are so used to linear perspective that we unthinkingly identify it with realism; to modern eyes, a "realistic" painting is one painted in linear perspective. Some may argue that the resemblance of such a painting to a photograph is proof of its realism. But this begs the question; had we not already been accustomed to consider perspectival painting the standard of realism, we might never have accepted photography as realistic either. I can imagine an ancient Egyptian sage inventing the camera, and upon discovering that it did not always show the human figure in profile concluding that it did not work very well.

A perspectival painting is, in many ways, not realistic at all. Some of these ways are obvious. The subjects do not move. Neither can the person looking at the painting move, or the failure of objects within the painting to move in relation to each other will reveal its artifice. The frame, usually rectangular, is unlike the actual periphery of our vision. And a perspectival painting is the view of a Cyclops; images do not double into two transparent parts when the two eyes focus on something nearer or farther away. Nor do they blur or sharpen dramatically; in reality, an object inches from the eyes and an object ten feet away cannot be seen in detail at the same time. A perspectival painting accurately presents what a man will see if he looks through a frame, with one eye closed, not moving, at something that does not move and that is far enough away for his eyes to focus on it in its entirety. Not surprisingly, the trick box that Filippo Brunelleschi invented to demonstrate his discovery of the technique created all of these conditions!



But there are more important ways in which a perspectival painting is unrealistic; it presents things as they are seen to be, rather than as they are known to be. It does not accommodate the vision of the mind's eye. Children draw in the same manner as cultures that have not adopted perspective in their art; they draw what is important. If they know of something present on the other side of a wall, or beyond the scope of their vision, they will draw it anyway if it is necessary to what they seek to communicate on paper. And its relative importance to that message will determine its size and placement in the drawing. This is the natural manner of composition in human artistry, whereas perspective is something that must be learned.

In the mediaeval mind, hierarchy, rhythm and number are the fundamental laws of the universe. Art was painted and drawn and woven in the same manner that literature was written and the natural world was observed; symbolism was the animating principle. The literal is only one of four senses of reality; the allegorical, tropological and anagogical senses are equally real, and equally necessary to depict.

In a mediaeval painting of the Last Judgment, Christ is flanked by the Blessed Virgin and the Baptist; apostles and martyrs surround them, pleading the cause of mankind. Angels carry the instruments of the Passion; personifications or symbols of Justice and Mercy may be present. The dead rise from their tombs; St. Michael weighs them in a scale; demons drag some of them to the gaping mouth of Hell; angels lead some of them to the gate of Heaven.

The selection and arrangement of these elements must be theologically correct; Christ must be in the center, the blessed on His right, the damned on His left, the saints in proper order according to their dignity. Fitting such a composition into the "realistic" space of linear perspective, where all bodies are the same size and all lines converge to points on the horizon, is nearly impossible. Not even the genius of Jan van Eyck could manage it without cheating.



Mediaeval art communicated not only through symbolism, but also through narrative. It told stories from the Holy Scriptures, from the lives of the saints, from secular history and from everyday life. The narrative art of this time in tapestry, glass and large-scale painting must be distinguished in an important way from manuscript illumination, and from modern illustration. An illustration is a picture that supports a text; a man reads what he should see, and looks at the picture already able to identify the characters and the place and the situation. But a mediaeval mural has no supporting text; or if it does, the artist cannot rely on it to explain the content of the picture because most people seeing it are unlettered.

This really is significant; such a work of art does not support a story; it is the story. It needs to tell the entire thing by itself. Enough of the time and of the place, of the characters and their motives and their doings must be shown for a man to understand the narrative just by looking at the picture. This demands that a great many details be visible; every figure acts or reacts, every important prop is shown. Such a work of art will not resemble a photograph, but it is no less truthful; were a mediaeval man handed a photograph, capturing a single viewpoint at a single moment, he would probably scratch his head and wonder what was supposed to be happening in the story.

A great amount of information must to be included in a mediaeval picture to communicate the intended symbolism or narrative. Perspective is actually an hindrance to this. In perspectival space, most activity occurs within a squat region between ground level and six feet above ground level. The result is that the figures are all standing in front of each other. Mediaeval artists often lifted the plane of the earth, so that figures in the background are seen above figures in the foreground, not completely blocked by them.



This art fills all of its given space, wasting none of it on empty sky. The art critical term for this is horror vacui, the fear of the void. It is a nearly universal artistic conviction; only in the far east and in modern times have artists valued blank space. Only Buddhists and Nihilists are interested in nothingness.

The challenge of empty sky especially affects ecclesiastical art. Verticality is one of the defining traits of an architecture consecrated to divine worship; it is most exaggerated in a Gothic church. The altars, the columns, the stained glass windows and the wall spaces between them are tall and narrow; they do not welcome linear perspective, because it would assign most of their space to empty sky.

Later artists who did use linear perspective were faced with this same challenge; their churches were not as pointed as the 13th century cathedral, but they were still taller than wide. They did not answer the challenge very well; the Renaissance artists filled the sky with towering classical ruins and the Baroque artists filled it with clouds and cherubs. Such unimaginative filler has been clogging sacred art for centuries.

For more than five hundred years, the art of the Middle Ages has been slandered as primitive and unrealistic. Art historians have disdained mediaeval artists for not developing linear perspective. But there is a good reason why they did not develop linear perspective; they had no need for it. The two most important purposes of their art - symbolism and narrative - were more easily fulfilled without it. It simply was not a very smart way to paint or draw or weave.

De LAUDIBUS SANCTAE CRUCIS



Benedict XVI:

The first theological commitment of [Rabanus Maurus] is expressed, in fact, in the form of poetry and had as a theme the mystery of the holy cross in a work titled, De Laudibus Sanctae Crucis, conceived to propose not only conceptual content, but also exquisitely artistic motivations using both the poetic form and the pictorial form within the same manuscript codex. Iconographically proposing between the lines of his writing the image of the crucified Christ, he writes: This is the image of the Savior who, with the position of his members, makes sacred for us the most sweet and dear form of the cross so that, believing in his name and obeying his commandments, we might obtain eternal life thanks to his passion. Because of this, each time that we raise our eyes to the cross, we remember him who suffered for us to sever us from the power of darkness, accepting death to make us heirs of eternal life.

This method of harmonizing all the arts, the intelligence, the heart and the sentiment, which came from the East, would be highly developed in the West, reaching unreachable heights in the miniate codices of the Bible and in other works of faith and of art, which flourished in Europe until the invention of the press and even afterward. In any case, it shows that Rabanus Maurus had an extraordinary awareness of the need to involve in the experience of faith, not only the mind and the heart, but also the sentiments through these other elements of aesthetic taste and the human sensitivity that brings man to enjoy truth with all of his being, spirit, soul and body. This is important: The faith is not only thought; it touches the whole being. Given that God made man with flesh and blood and entered into the tangible world, we have to try to encounter God with all the dimensions of our being. In this way, the reality of God, through faith, penetrates in our being and transforms it.

PARIS PSALTER























More images from the Paris Psalter, a late example of pure Hellenistic iconography. A previous post.

TRUE PRINCIPLES of POINTED ARCHITECTURE

ST. NICHOLAS



His life, according to James of Voragine.

His life, told in stained glass at Chartres Cathedral.

Sequence by Adam of St. Victor:

Con gaudentes exultemus vocali concordia
Ad beati Nicolai festiva solemnia;

Qui in cunis adhuc jacens servando jejunia
A papillis coepit summa promereri gaudia.

Adolescens amplexatur literarum studia,
Alienus et immubis ab omni lascivia.

Felix confessor,
Cujus fuit dignitatis vox de coelo nuntia!
Per quam provectus,
Praesulatûs sublimatur ad summa fastigia.

Erat in ejus animo pietas eximia,
Et oppressis impendebat multa beneficia.

Auro per eum virginum tollitur infamia,
Atque patris earundem levatur inopia.

Quidam nautae navigantes,
Et contra fluctuum saevitiam luctantes,
Navi pene dissoluta,
Jam de vita desperantes,
In tanto positi periculo, clamantes
Voces dicunt omnes una:

"O beate Nicolae,
Nos ad maris portum trahe
De mortis angustia.
Trahe nos ad portum maris,
Tu qui tot auxiliaris
Pietatis gratia."

Dum clamarent, nec incassum,
"Ecce!" quidam dicit, "assum
Ad vestra praesidia."
Statim aura datur grata
Et tempestas fit sedata:
Quieverunt maria.

Nos, qui sumus in hoc mundo,
Vitiorum in profundo
Jam passi naufragia,
Gloriose Nicolae,
Ad salus portum trahe,
Ubi pax et gloria.

Ex ipsius tumba manat
Unctionis copia,
Quae infirmos omnes sanat
Per ejus suffragia.

Ipsam nobis unctionem
Impetres ad Dominum,
Prece pia,
Quae sanavit laesionem
Multorum peccaminum
In Maria.

Hujus festum celebrantes gaudeant per saecula,
Et coronet eos Christus post vitae curricula!
Amen dicant omnia!
Englished by Digby S. Wrangham:

Let us all exult together, as with one united voice
We upon his solemn feast-day in St. Nicholas rejoice;

Who, whilst in his cradle lying, by observing duly fast,
Heavenly joys began to merit even at his mother's breast.

In his youth he chooses letters, that his study they may be,
To all evil lust a stranger, from all sinful passions free.

This blest confessor,
Whom, as worthy of the office, 'twas a voice from heaven praised,
Thereby exalted,
Amongst bishops to the very highest rank is forthwith raised.

There was too in his character benevolence exceeding,
And many a bounty he bestowed, the tale of sorrow heeding.

With gold he saved some maidens, who had else vile lives been leading,
Relieving all their father's want, when help most sorely needing.

Certain sailors once, when sailing,
And fighting 'gainst fierce waves with struggles unavailing,
Shipwrecked nigh through stress of weather;
Hope of life already failing,
Amid such dangers set, aloud their fate bewailing,
Lift their voices altogether:

"Blessed Nicholas! O steer us
From the straits of death so near us
To the haven of safe sea!
To that harbour in the distance
Draw us, who dost grant assistance
Through the grace of charity!"

"Lo!" - while thus they cried, nor vainly, -
"I am here!" a voice said plainly,
"To watch o'er you and to aid!"
Instantly blow favouring breezes,
Instantly the tempest ceases,
And to rest the sea is laid.

We, now in this world abiding,
Have been wrecked, as we were riding
O'er the deep abyss of vice:
Draw us, Nicholas most glorious!
To the home of peace victorious,
To the port of Paradise!

From his tomb, to heal diseases,
Oil abundant floweth forth,
Which the sick from pain releases
Through his prayers' availing worth.

May we of the self-same ointment
Through thy pious prayer to God
Gain possession,
Which did by the Lord's appointment
Heal the wounds of Mary's load
Of transgression!

Let them joy throughout all ages, who observe this holy day,
And, when this life's course is ended, crowned in heaven by Christ be they!
Amen! let all creatures say!

ST. GALGANO



St. Galgano was a 12th century knight who renounced his dissolute ways and became a hermit after seeing the archangel Michael. To signify his conversion, he plunged his sword into a rock, which received it like butter would. The cruciform hilt became the cross that he venerated in his hermitage.

Later, Cistercian monks built a monastery on the site. It has since been reduced to ruins, but the sword in the stone remains.

ST. BARBARA



Her life, according to James of Voragine.

AQUAMANILES

Kes Smith:

An aquamanile is a vessel from which water is poured. In the ninth century, these elaborately worked jugs appear in church records. They were used to pour water over the hands of the priest to be caught in a basin below [i.e. at the Lavabo at Mass]. Most were of a heavy cast construction and were designed to stay in place while a spigot or tap was used to pour. They grew in popularity and the designs became more and more elegant, and often delightfully fanciful.

Most commonly cast in bronze, aquamaniles were also occasionally made from silver, or gilt copper. These vessels often depicted animals, fabled characters or Biblical scenes.

The aquamaniles pictured below are in the collections of the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York; the Musuem of Fine Arts in Boston; the Cleveland Art Museum and the Victoria and Albert Museum in London.



















More here.

ELEVATION TORCHES



Eamon Duffy:

Since the end of the twelfth century it had been customary for the consecrating priest to elevate the Host high above his head immediately after the sacring for adoration by the people... In churches with elaborately carved or colored altarpieces the custom emerged of drawing a plain dark curtain across the reredos at the sacring, to throw the Host into starker prominence... In 1502 a Hull alderman left money for the construction of a mechanical device above the high altar which caused images of angels to descend on the altar at the sacring, and ascend again at the conclusion of the Pater Noster; he had seen such a device at King's Lynn.

The provision of good wax lights, and especially of torches, flaring lights made with thick plaited wicks and a mixture of resin and wax, which burned from the elevation to the Agnus Dei or the priest's communion, became one of the most common of all activities of the guilds. It was also very common for individual testators to specify that the torches burned around their corpses at their funerals should be given to the parish church, to burn around the altar at the sacring time. The provision of such lights was often indulgenced, and they may in addition have had the utilitarian function of lighting up the chancel to make the Host more visible, but they were also conceived of as forming a sort of proxy for the adoring presence of the donor close by the Sacrament at the moment of elevation. This was probably particularly true of funeral torches used as elevation lights... The notion of the torch as a proxy for the worshipping donor is certainly uppermost in the explanation offered by a group of shepherds and herdsmen of their motives in founding a guild of the Blessed Virgin at Holbeach. The guild, they explained, maintained torches at the elevation, because its members were often unable by reason of their work to be at Mass themselves. Such torches were normally held by the clerk or the altar boys in the sanctuary, and they often appear thus in carvings and pictures of the elevation. But where guilds provided large numbers of torches for Sundays and festivals - sometimes up to a dozen or more - the guild members themselves would have gathered round the altar at the moment of elevation.

[The Stripping of the Altars by Eamon Duffy. Yale University Press, 1992]