The Painted Triptychs of Fifteenth-Century Germany: Case Studies of Blurred Boundaries 9789048543557

Citation preview

The Painted Triptychs of Fifteenth-Century Germany

Visual and Material Culture, 1300-1700 A forum for innovative research on the role of images and objects in the late medieval and early modern periods, Visual and Material Culture, 1300-1700 publishes monographs and essay collections that combine rigorous investigation with critical inquiry to present new narratives on a wide range of topics, from traditional arts to seemingly ordinary things. Recognizing the fluidity of images, objects, and ideas, this series fosters cross-cultural as well as multi-disciplinary exploration. We consider proposals from across the spectrum of analytic approaches and methodologies. Series Editor Allison Levy is Digital Scholarship Editor at Brown University. She has authored or edited five books on early modern Italian visual and material culture.

The Painted Triptychs of Fifteenth-Century Germany Case Studies of Blurred Boundaries

Lynn F. Jacobs

Amsterdam University Press

This publication has been made possible by a grant from the Walton Family Charitable Support Foundation.

Cover illustration: Conrad von Soest, Niederwildungen Altarpiece, Ascension, 1403, Stadtkirche, Bad Wildungen (Photo: © Bildarchiv Foto Marburg/Art Resource, NY/Photo: Thomas Scheidt, 2011) Cover design: Coördesign, Leiden Lay-out: Crius Group, Hulshout 978 94 6372 540 8 isbn 978 90 4854 355 7 e-isbn doi 10.5117/9789463725408 nur 685 © L.F. Jacobs / Amsterdam University Press B.V., Amsterdam 2022 All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this book may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the written permission of both the copyright owner and the author of the book. Every effort has been made to obtain permission to use all copyrighted illustrations reproduced in this book. Nonetheless, whosoever believes to have rights to this material is advised to contact the publisher.

This book is dedicated with love to my father, Stanley A. Jacobs ‫ז״ל‬.



Table of Contents

List of Illustrations

9

Acknowledgements 21 Introduction 23 1. Framed Boundaries: Conrad von Soest and Early Fifteenth-Century Westphalian Triptychs

43

2. Transparent Boundaries: Colour on the Exterior of German FifteenthCentury Triptychs

93

3. Regional Boundaries: Rogier van der Weyden’s Columba Altarpiece and Cross-Influences Between the Netherlands and Cologne

165

4. Spiritual Boundaries: The Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece and the Border between Reality and Eternity

209

5. Coda: The Triptych in the Age of Dürer

255

Bibliography 285 Index 301



List of Illustrations

Fig. 0.1. Fig. 0.2.

Fig. 1.1. Fig. 1.2. Fig. 1.3. Fig. 1.4. Fig. 1.5.

Fig. 1.6.

Fig. 1.7. Fig. 1.8.

Lucas Moser, St. Magdalene Altarpiece, exterior, 1432, St. Maria Magdalena Church, Tiefenbronn (Photo: Erich Lessing/ Art Resource, NY). St. Magdalene Altarpiece, open, paintings by Lucas Moser, 1432, and sixteenth-century sculpture replacing an original fifteenth-century sculpture, St. Maria Magdalena Church, Tiefenbronn (Photo: Ewald Freiburger, J.S. Klotz Verlagshaus Neulingen Germany). Conrad von Soest, Niederwildungen Altarpiece, interior, 1403, Stadtkirche, Bad Wildungen (Photo: © Bildarchiv Foto Marburg/Art Resource, NY/Photo: Thomas Scheidt, 2011). Master of the Netze Altarpiece (?), Osnabrück Altarpiece, c. 1370–1380, Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_c014473). Master of the Netze Altarpiece, Netze Altarpiece, c. 1360, Pfarrkirche, Netz (Photo: Thomas Scheidt, 2009/Art Resource). Conrad von Soest, Niederwildungen Altarpiece, detail of sections of the Presentation and the Adoration of the Magi, 1403, Stadtkirche, Bad Wildungen (Photo: Author). Westphalian Master (?), Mary as the Throne of Solomon (Wormeln Altarpiece), c. 1370–1380, Gemäldegalerie, Staatliche Museen, Berlin (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Gemäldegalerie, Staatliche Museen, Berlin/Jörg P. Anders/Art Resource, NY). Master Bertram, Creation scenes, from the Altarpiece from the Petrikirche, Hamburg, first opening, left wing, 1379–1383, Kunsthalle, Hamburg (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Kunsthalle, Hamburg/ Elke Walford/Art Resource, NY). Conrad von Soest, Niederwildungen Altarpiece, left wing, 1403, Stadtkirche, Bad Wildungen (Photo: © Bildarchiv Foto Marburg/Art Resource, NY/Photo: Thomas Scheidt, 2011). Conrad von Soest, Niederwildungen Altarpiece, centre panel, 1403, Stadtkirche, Bad Wildungen (Photo: © Bildarchiv Foto Marburg/Art Resource, NY).

32

34

44 45 45 47

49

50 53 55

10 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 1.9.

Conrad von Soest, Niederwildungen Altarpiece, Ascension, 1403, Stadtkirche, Bad Wildungen (Photo: © Bildarchiv Foto Marburg/Art Resource, NY/Photo: Thomas Scheidt, 2011). 57 Fig. 1.10. Conrad von Soest, Niederwildungen Altarpiece, right wing, 1403, Stadtkirche, Bad Wildungen (Photo: © Bildarchiv Foto Marburg/Art Resource, NY/Photo: Thomas Scheidt, 2011). 60 Fig. 1.11. Conrad von Soest, Niederwildungen Altarpiece, exterior, 1403, Stadtkirche, Bad Wildungen. (Photo: © Bildarchiv Foto 61 Marburg/Art Resource, NY/Photo: Thomas Scheidt, 2011). Fig. 1.12. Conrad von Soest, Sts. Dorothy and Odilia, c. 1410–1420, LWLMuseum für Kunst und Kultur, Westfälisches Landesmuseum, Münster (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Landesmuseum für Kunst und Kulturgeschichte, Münster/Hanna Neander and Sabine 63 Ahlbrand-Dornseif/Art Resource, NY). Fig. 1.13. Conrad von Soest, Dortmund Altarpiece, c. 1420, ­Marienkirche, Dortmund (Photo: Werner Otto/Alamy Stock Photo).64 Fig. 1.14. Conrad von Soest, c. 1404, St. Paul, Alte Pinakothek, Munich (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/ Alte Pinakothek, Munich/Art 66 Resource, NY). Fig. 1.15. St. Reinold, reverse of St. Paul panel, c. 1404, Alte Pinakothek, Munich (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Alte Pinakothek, Munich/Art Resource, NY). 66 Fig. 1.16. Berswordt Master, Berswordt Altarpiece, c. 1386, High Altar, Marienkirche, Dortmund (Photo: Werner Otto/Alamy Stock Photo).68 Fig. 1.17. Warendorf Master, Warendorf Altarpiece, central panel, c. 1414, Pfarrkirche St. Laurence, Warendorf (Photo: Andreas Lechtape, 2018 © Bildarchiv Foto Marburg/Art Resource, NY). 72 Fig. 1.18. Master of Münster, Darup Altarpiece, centre panel, c. 1418, High Altar, Church of Sts. Fabian and Sebastian, Darup (Photo: Stephan Saguma © LWL-Medienzentrum für Westfalen). 74 Fig. 1.19. Workshop of the Warendorf Master (?), Isselhorst Altarpiece, central panel, c. 1440, LWL-Museum für Kunst und Kultur, Westfälisches Landesmuseum, Münster (Photo: © LWL-MKuK – ARTOTHEK). 75 Fig. 1.20. Master of Schöppingen, Haldern Altarpiece, c. 1440–1450, LWL-Museum für Kunst und Kultur, Westfälisches Landesmuseum, Münster (Photo: © LWL-MKuK – ARTOTHEK). 77

11

List of Illustr ations 

Fig. 1.21.

Fig. 1.22.

Fig. 1.23.

Fig. 1.24.

Fig. 1.25. Fig. 1.26. Fig. 1.27. Fig. 1.28.

Fig. 2.1. Fig. 2.2. Fig. 2.3.

Master of the Golden Panel, Golden Panel from Lüneberg, inside of left outer wing, c. 1418–1420, Niedersächsisches Landesmuseum, Hannover (Photo: © Landesmuseum Hannover – ARTOTHEK). Master of the Golden Panel, Golden Panel from Lüneberg, outside of left inner wing, c. 1418–1420, Niedersächsisches Landesmuseum, Hannover (Photo: © Landesmuseum Hannover – ARTOTHEK). Master of the Golden Panel, Golden Panel from Lüneberg, outside of right inner wing, c. 1418–1420, Niedersächsisches Landesmuseum, Hannover (Photo: © Landesmuseum Hannover – ARTOTHEK).. Master of the Golden Panel, Golden Panel from Lüneberg, inside of right outer wing, c. 1418–1420, Niedersächsisches Landesmuseum, Hannover (Photo: © Landesmuseum Hannover – ARTOTHEK). Master of the Wernigerode Altarpiece, Wernigerode Altarpiece, c. 1419, Hessisches Landesmuseum, Darmstadt (Photo: © HLMD, Foto: Wolfgang Fuhrmannek). Anonymous Master, Peter and Paul Altarpiece, centre panel, interior, c. 1420, Church of St. Lambert, Hildesheim (Photo: Gerhard Lutz, Hildesheim). Master of Schöppingen, Crucifixion Altarpiece (Schöppingen Altarpiece), 1453–1457, St. Brictius, Schöppingen (Photo: Andreas Lechtape, 2003–2004/Art Resource). Anonymous Master, Norfolk Triptych, interior, c. 1415, Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen, Rotterdam (Photo: © KIKIRPA, Brussels). Master of the Ehningen Altarpiece Resurrection Triptych, interior, c. 1476, Staatsgalerie, Stuttgart (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Staatsgalerie, Stuttgart/Art Resource, NY). Master of the Ehningen Altarpiece, Annunciation, exterior of the Resurrection Triptych, c. 1476, Staatsgalerie, Stuttgart (Photo: © Staatsgalerie Stuttgart). Workshop of Dieric Bouts, Annunciation, c. 1475, Virginia Museum of Fine Arts, Richmond, VA, Adolph D. And Wilkins C. Williams Fund 55.10 (Photo: Travis Fullerton © Virginia Museum of Fine Arts).

79

80

81

82 84 85 87 88

94 95

96

12 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 2.4.

Dieric Bouts and Workshop, Sts. Catherine and Barbara, exterior of the Pearl of Brabant, c. 1465, Alte Pinakothek, Munich (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Alte Pinakothek, Munich/Art Resource, NY). 98 Fig. 2.5. Master of the Polling Panels, Annunciation, outside of the left panel of a Marian altarpiece, 1444, Alte Pinakothek, Munich (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Alte Pinakothek, Munich/Art Resource, NY). 100 Fig. 2.6. Reconstruction of Gabriel Angler, Tabula Magna, open, as reconstructed by Helmut Möhring (Illustration by Martin Schapiro).103 Fig. 2.7. Gabriel Angler, Assassination of Philippus Arabus, exterior of the Tabula Magna, 1444–1445, Gemäldegalerie, Staatliche Museen, Berlin (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Gemäldegalerie, Staatliche Museen, Berlin/Jörg P. Anders/Art Resource, NY). 104 Fig. 2.8. Gabriel Angler, Beheading of St. Quirin, exterior of the Tabula Magna, 1444–1445, Bayerisches Nationalmuseum, Munich (Photo: © Bayerisches Nationalmuseum, Munich Foto-Nr. D163988 Weniger, Dr. Matthias Inv.-Nr. L 10/215). 105 Fig. 2.9. Gabriel Angler, Crucifixion, interior of the Tabula Magna, 1444–1445, Germanisches Nationalmuseum, Nuremberg, Gm 1055 (Photo: © Germanisches Nationalmuseum, Foto: Georg Janßen).106 Fig. 2.10. Gabriel Angler, Agony in the Garden, interior of the Tabula Magna, 1444–1445, Bayerisches Nationalmuseum, Munich (Photo: © Bayerisches Nationalmuseum, Munich Foto-Nr. 107 D163982 Weniger, Dr. Matthias Inv.-Nr. L 10/213). Fig. 2.11. Gabriel Angler, Crucifixion, c. 1440, Alte Pinakothek, Munich (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Alte Pinakothek, Munich/Art 110 Resource, NY). Fig. 2.12. Bartholomäus Bruyn the Elder, Annunciation, exterior of the Coronation of the Virgin Triptych, c. 1515; Purchased with the Hillyer-Tryon-Mather Fund; the Beatrice O. Chace, class of 1928, Fund; the Dorothy C. Miller, class of 1925, Fund; the Madeleine H. Russell, class of 1937, Fund, the Janet Wright Ketcham, class of 1953, Fund; the Margaret Walker Purinton Fund: the Carol Ramsay Chandler Fund; the fund in honour of Charles Chetham; the Katherine S. Pearce, class of 1915, Fund; and the Eva W. Nair Fund, Smith College Museum of Art, Northampton, MA (Photo: Smith College Museum of Art). 115

13

List of Illustr ations 

Fig. 2.13.

Fig. 2.14.

Fig. 2.15.

Fig. 2.16. Fig. 2.17.

Fig. 2.18. Fig. 2.19. Fig. 2.20. Fig. 2.21. Fig. 2.22. Fig. 2.23.

Hermen Rode, Crucified Christ and St. Jerome, exterior of the Crucifixion and the Death of the Virgin Diptych, originally in the Holy Cross chapel, Marienkirche in Lübeck, destroyed in 1942 during World War II (Photo: Archiv Dr. Franz Stoedtner, c. 1920 © Bildarchiv Foto Marburg/Art Resource, NY). Workshop of the Apt Master, St. Christopher and Margaret, exterior of the University Altarpiece, c. 1513 or later, Alte Pinakothek, Munich (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Alte Pinakothek, Munich/Art Resource, NY). Workshop of Dürer and Grünewald, exterior of the Heller Altarpiece. Centre: Workshop of Dürer, Two Magi, Sts. Peter, Paul, Thomas Aquinas, and Christopher, Historisches Museum, Frankfurt am Main; upper left and right: Grünewald, Sts. Laurence and Cyriakus, Städel Museum, Frankfurt am Main; lower left and right: Grünewald, St. Elizabeth and Female Saint, Staatliche Kunsthalle, Karlsruhe (Photo: © akg-images). Mathias Grünewald, Unknown Female Saint, 1511–1512, Staatliche Kunsthalle, Karlsruhe (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Staatliche Kunsthalle, Karlsruhe/Wolfgang Pankoke/Art Resource, NY). Master of Frankfurt, Sts. Agnes and Lucy, upper left panel of the exterior of the Holy Kinship Altarpiece, c. 1505, B0262 Historisches Museum, Frankfurt (Photo: © Historisches Museum, Frankfurt, Fotograf: Horst Ziegenfusz). Hans Holbein the Elder, Crowning with Thorns, exterior of the Grey Passion, 1494–1500, Staatsgalerie, Stuttgart (Photo: © Staatsgalerie Stuttgart). Hans Holbein the Elder, Christ Before Pilate, interior of the Grey Passion, 1494–1500, Staatsgalerie, Stuttgart (Photo: © Staatsgalerie Stuttgart). Berswordt Master, Annunciation, exterior of the Berswordt Altarpiece, c. 1386, High Altar, Marienkirche, Dortmund (Photo: Stephan Kemperdick). Stefan Lochner, Annunciation, exterior of the Dombild (Adoration of the Magi Triptych), 1442–1445, Cathedral, Cologne (Photo: Erich Lessing/Art Resource, NY). Stefan Lochner, interior of the Dombild (Adoration of the Magi Triptych), 1442–1445, Cathedral, Cologne (Photo: Erich Lessing/Art Resource, NY). Anonymous Master, Conversion of Paul, exterior of the Peter and Paul Altarpiece from the Church of St. Lambert,

116

118

120 121

122 124 125 128 130 131

14 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 2.24.

Fig. 2.25.

Fig. 2.26. Fig. 2.27.

Fig. 2.28. Fig. 2.29. Fig. 2.30. Fig. 2.31.

Fig. 2.32. Fig. 2.33.

Fig. 2.34.

Hildesheim, c. 1420, Landesmuseum, Hannover (Photo: © Landesmuseum Hannover – ARTOTHEK). Master of the Legend of St. George, Annunciation, exterior of the De Monte Lamentation Triptych, 1490, Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_c002047, rba_c002048). Master of the Life of Mary (centre) and Master of the Legend of St. George (wings), De Monte Lamentation Triptych, c. 1480 (centre), c. 1490 (wings), Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_c004451). Master of the Legend of St. George, St. George Altarpiece, c. 1460, Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_c002399). Master of the Legend of St. George, Adoration of the Child and Ecce Homo, exterior of the St. George Altarpiece, c. 1460, Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_c002416). Robert Campin, Throne of Mercy, c. 1430, Städel Museum, Frankfurt am Main (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Städel Museum, Frankfurt am Main/Ursula Edelmann/Art Resource, NY). Stefan Lochner, Standing Saints, exterior of the Last Judgement Altarpiece, c. 1440, Alte Pinakothek, Munich (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Alte Pinakothek, Munich/Art Resource, NY). Hugo van der Goes, Annunciation, exterior of the Portinari Altarpiece, c. 1475–1476, Uffizi, Florence (Photo: Scala/Art Resource, NY). Master of St. Veronica, Crowning with Thorns, exterior of the Virgin with the Sweet Pea Blossom Triptych, 1420s, WallrafRichartz Museum, Cologne (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_d021311_05). Master of St. Veronica, Virgin with the Sweet Pea Blossom Triptych, 1420s, Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_d021311_01). Master of the Kirchsahr Altarpiece, Sts. Apollonia, John the Baptist, Valerian, and Cecilia, exterior of the Crucifixion Triptych, c. 1425–1430, Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, Albers, Michael, rba_d022029_01). Master of the Kirchsahr Altarpiece, Crucifixion Triptych, c. 1425–1430, Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_d002002).

132

133

134 134

135 137 138 142

146 147

149 150

15

List of Illustr ations 

Fig. 2.35. Master of Schöppingen, Lives of St. John the Baptist and St. Martin, exterior of the Haldern Altarpiece, c. 1440–1450, LWLMuseum für Kunst und Kultur, Westfälisches Landesmuseum, Münster (Photo: © LWL-MKuK – ARTOTHEK). Fig. 2.36. Jan van Eyck, Exterior of the Ghent Altarpiece, 1432, St. Bavo’s Cathedral, Ghent (Photo: Erich Lessing/Art Resource, NY). Fig. 2.37. Jan van Eyck, Annunciation, exterior of the Dresden Triptych, 1437, Gemäldegalerie Alte Meister, Staatliche Kunstsammlungen, Dresden (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Gemäldegalerie Alte Meister, Staatliche Kunstsammlungen, Dresden/Hans-Peter Klut/Art Resource, NY). Fig. 2.38. Jan van Eyck, Dresden Triptych, interior, 1437, Gemäldegalerie Alte Meister, Staatliche Kunstsammlungen, Dresden (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Gemäldegalerie Alte Meister, Staatliche Kunstsammlungen, Dresden/Hans-Peter Klut/Art Resource, NY). Fig. 2.39. Dieric Bouts and Workshop, Pearl of Brabant (Adoration of the Magi Triptych), c. 1465, Alte Pinakothek, Munich (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Alte Pinakothek, Munich/Lutz Braun (central panel) /Art Resource, NY). Fig. 3.1. Fig. 3.2. Fig. 3.3. Fig. 3.4. Fig. 3.5.

Fig. 3.6.

150 153

155

156

156

Rogier van der Weyden, Columba Altarpiece, c. 1450–1456, Alte Pinakothek, Munich (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Alte Pinakothek, Munich/Art Resource, NY). 166 Master of the Kirchsahr Altarpiece, Kirchsahr Altarpiece, first quarter of the fifteenth century, Kath. Pfarrkirche, Kirchsahr 170 (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_048367). Stefan Lochner, Presentation in the Temple, 1447, Hessiches Landesmuseum, Darmstadt (Photo: © HLMD, Foto: Wolfgang Fuhrmannek).174 Master of the Holy Kinship the Elder, Holy Kinship Altarpiece, c. 1420, Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_c004431). 175 Jacques Daret, Adoration of the Magi, 1433–1435, Gemäldegalerie, Staatliche Museen, Berlin (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/ Gemäldegalerie, Staatliche Museen, Berlin/ Jörg P. Anders/Art 181 Resource, NY). Stefan Lochner, Last Judgement Triptych (reconstruction), c. 1435–1440, centre: Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne; wings: Städel Museum, Frankfurt am Main (Photos: wings:

16 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 3.7. Fig. 3.8. Fig. 3.9. Fig. 3.10. Fig. 3.11.

Fig. 3.12. Fig. 3.13.

Fig. 3.14.

Fig. 3.15. Fig. 3.16. Fig. 3.17.

bpk Bildagentur/Städel Museum, Frankfurt am Main/Ursula Edelmann/Art Resource, NY; centre: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_d029131_01). Master of the Life of Mary, Passion Altarpiece, c. 1460, Chapel of the St. Nicholas Hospital, Bernkastel-Kues (Photo: fotodesign steinicke, Wittlich/St. Nikolaus-Hospital, Bernkastel-Kues). Master of the Holy Kinship the Younger, Sebastian Altarpiece, c. 1493–1494, Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_c003172). Master of the Lyversberg Passion, exterior of the Mary Altarpiece, completed 1463, Kath. Pfarrkirche St. Maria, Linz (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_050518). Master of the Holy Kinship the Younger, Holy Kinship Altarpiece, c. 1503, Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_c003171). Master of the Life of Mary, Annunciation, exterior of the Apostle Altarpiece, c. 1485, Bayerische Staatsgemäldesammlungen—Staatsgalerie in der Neuen Residenz Bamberg (Photo: © Bayerische Staatsgemäldesammlungen—Staatsgalerie in der Neuen Residenz Bamberg, Inv.-Nr. WAF 628). Master of the Lyversberg Passion, Mary Altarpiece, completed 1463, Kath. Pfarrkirche St. Maria, Linz (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_050517). Master of the Life of Mary, Adoration of the Magi, central panel of a triptych, c. 1470, Germanisches Nationalmuseum, Nuremberg, Gm 21 (Photo: © Germanisches Nationalmuseum, Foto: Georg Janßen). Master of the Holy Kinship the Younger, Epiphany, Presentation, Christ’s Appearance to the Virgin, central section of the Seven Joys of Mary Altarpiece, 1470s, Louvre, Paris (Photo: Louvre, Paris, France/Bridgeman Images). Master of the Munich Arrest of Christ, Arrest of Christ, c. 1485, Alte Pinakothek, Munich (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Alte Pinakthek, Munich/Art Resource, NY). Master of the Lyversberg Passion, Arrest of Christ, from the Passion Altarpiece, 1464–1466, Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_c002409). Master of the Munich Arrest of Christ, Resurrection, c. 1485, Alte Pinakothek, Munich (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Alte Pinakothek, Munich/Art Resource, NY).

186 188 190 192 193

194 195

196

197 199 200 201

17

List of Illustr ations 

Fig. 3.18. Hans Memling, Passion Triptych (Greverade Triptych), 1491, Sankt-Annen-Museum, Lübeck (Photo: © St. Annen-Museum/ Fotoarchiv der Hansestadt Lübeck). Fig. 3.19. Master of the Passionsfolgen, Life and Passion of Christ, c. 1430–1435, Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_c014682).

203 204

Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece, Mass of St. Gregory, c. 1500–1505, Museum am Dom, Trier (Photo: © Rheinisches 210 Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_c002398). Fig. 4.2. Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece, Deposition, c. 1500–1505, National Gallery, London (Photo: © National 216 Gallery, London/Art Resource, NY). Fig. 4.3. Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece, Baptism of Christ, c. 1500, National Gallery, Washington, D.C., Samuel H. Kress Collection (Photo: Courtesy National Gallery of Art, Washington). 217 Fig. 4.4. Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece, Mystic Marriage of St. Agnes, c. 1495, Germanisches Nationalmuseum, Nuremberg, Gm 1634 (Photo: © Germanisches Nationalmuseum, 220 Foto: Georg Janßen). Fig. 4.5. Michel Erhart, Blaubeuren Altarpiece, 1493–1494, Benedictine Abbey Church, Blaubeuren (Photo: Erich Lessing/Art Re223 source, NY). Fig. 4.6. Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece, Holy Cross Triptych, c. 1490–1495, Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_c000031). 226 Fig. 4.7. Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece, Annunciation and Sts. Peter and Paul, exterior of the Holy Cross Triptych, c. 1490–1495, Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_c004967). 227 Fig. 4.8. Rogier van der Weyden, Deposition, c. 1435, The Prado, Madrid (Photo: Erich Lessing/Art Resource, NY). 229 Fig. 4.9. Michael Pacher, Fathers of the Church Altarpiece, c. 1482, Alte Pinakothek, Munich (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Alte Pinakothek, Munich/Sybille Forster/Art Resource, NY). 232 Fig. 4.10. Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece, Deposition, c. 1490, Louvre, Paris, France (Photo: © Photo Josse/Bridgeman Images). 234 Fig. 4.11. Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece, St. Thomas Triptych, c. 1495–1500, Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_c001508). 240 Fig. 4.1.

18 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 4.12. Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece, Sts. Symphorosa and Felicitas, exterior of the St. Thomas Triptych, c. 1495–1500, Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_c003655). Fig. 4.13. Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece, St. Bartholomew Triptych, c. 1500–1505, Alte Pinakothek, Munich (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Alte Pinakothek, Munich/Art Resource, NY). Fig. 4.14. Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece, Sts. Peter and Dorothy, c. 1505–1510, National Gallery, London (Photo: © National Gallery, London/Art Resource, NY). Fig. 4.15. Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece, Sts. Andrew and Columba, c. 1505–1510, Landesmuseum, Mainz (Photo: © GDKE RLP, Landesmuseum Mainz, Foto: U. Rudischer). Fig. 5.1. Fig. 5.2.

Fig. 5.3.

Fig. 5.4.

Fig. 5.5.

Fig. 5.6.

Albrecht Dürer, Paumgartner Altarpiece, c. 1498 (1504?), Alte Pinakothek, Munich (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Alte Pinakothek, Munich/Art Resource, NY). Hans Baldung Grien, Martyrdom of St. Sebastian Triptych, 1507, Germanisches Nationalmuseum, Nuremberg (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Germanisches Nationalmuseum, Nuremberg/Dirk Meßberger/Art Resource, NY). Hans Baldung Grien, Sts. Apollonia and Dorothy, exterior of the Martrydom of St. Sebastian Triptych, 1507, Germanisches Nationalmuseum, Nuremberg (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/ Germanisches Nationalmuseum, Nuremberg/Dirk Meßberger/ Art Resource, NY). Hans Baldung Grien, Annunciation, Visitation, Nativity, Flight into Egypt, exterior of the Freiburg Altarpiece, 1512–1516, Freiburger Münster, Freiburg im Breisgau (Photo: Nicola De Carlo/Alamy Stock Photo). Hans Baldung Grien, Coronation of the Virgin, interior of the Freiburg Altarpiece, 1512–1516, Freiburger Münster, Freiburg im Breisgau (Photo: © akg-images / Florian Monheim / Bildarchiv Monheim GmbH). Hans Baldung Grien, Crucifixion with Sts. Jerome, John the Baptist (left), Laurence and George (right), back of the Freiburg Altarpiece, 1512–1516, Freiburger Münster, Freiburg im Breisgau (Image: Wikimedia Commons licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0).

241 247 250 251

257

262

264

266

266

267

19

List of Illustr ations 

Fig. 5.7.

Lucas Cranach the Elder, Martyrdom of St. Catherine Triptych, 1506, Gemäldegalerie Alte Meister, Staatliche Kunstsammlungen, Dresden (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Gemäldegalerie, Alte Meister, Staatliche Kunstsammlungen, Dresden/Elke Estel/ Hans-Peter Klut/Art Resource, NY). Fig. 5.8. Lucas Cranach the Elder, Genevieve and Apollonia (left), Sts. Christina and Ottilia (right), exterior of the Martyrdom of St. Catherine Triptych, 1506, National Gallery, London (Photo: © National Gallery, London/Art Resource, NY). Fig. 5.9. Lucas Cranach the Elder, Holy Kinship Triptych, 1509, Städel Museum, Frankfurt am Main (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Städel Museum, Frankfurt am Main/Art Resource, NY). Fig. 5.10. Lucas Cranach the Elder, Anna Selbdritt, exterior of the Holy Kinship Triptych, 1509, Städel Museum, Frankfurt am Main (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Städel Museum, Frankfurt am Main/ Art Resource, NY). Fig. 5.11. Lucas Cranach the Elder, Wittenberg Altarpiece (Baptism, Lord’s Supper, and Confession), 1547, Stadtkirche, Wittenberg (Photo: © jmp-bildagentur, J.M. Pietsch, Spröda, mit freundlicher Genehmigung der Stadtkirchengemeinde Wittenberg). Fig. 5.12. Lucas Cranach the Elder, Sacrifice of Isaac, Christ’s Resurrection and Triumph over Death and the Devil, Brazen Serpent, back of central panel and reverse of wings of the Wittenberg Altarpiece, 1547, Stadtkirche, Wittenberg (Photo: © jmp-bildagentur, J.M. Pietsch, Spröda, mit freundlicher Genehmigung der Stadtkirchengemeinde Wittenberg).

269

270 272

274

277

279

Acknowledgements The final stages of writing this book took place during the Covid 19 pandemic. It was a stroke of good luck that I was able to finish the bulk of the needed research and travel for this project during the fall of 2018, when I had the wonderful opportunity to spend three months as a Fellow at Munich’s Zentralinstitut für Kunstgeschichte with the financial support of the DAAD. I am extremely grateful to Ulrich Pfisterer, Director of the Zentralinstitut, for his invitation to the ZI, and for the stimulating conversations I had with him during my stay. I would also like to thank Iris Lauterbach for assisting me throughout my time at the ZI. Other Fellows during my stay—Ruben Suykerbuyk, Rahul Kulka, and, especially my ever good-spirited office neighbour, Juliette Calvarin—were all very considerate in helping me learn how to navigate the system, and it was a pleasure to learn about their fascinating research projects. I also want to thank the scholars who met with me (at times over food, coffee, or in museum galleries) during my 2018 visit to Germany: Iris Brahms, Stephan Kemperdick, Aleksandra Lipińska, Jochen Sander, Martin Schawe, and Matthais Weniger. These meetings were tremendously helpful for this project, as were the comments of the participants at my presentation at the ZI. I would also like to thank Frau Paulus and the staff of the Evangelisches Gemeindebüro of Bad Wildungen for their assistance in allowing me to study the Conrad von Soest altarpiece privately on ladders and with extra lighting. The onset of Covid, of course, brought major challenges for the completion of this book. I was only able to finish the book thanks to the assistance of the Interlibrary Loan librarians at institutions throughout this country and abroad. I want particularly to thank the amazing Interlibrary Loan staff at the University of Arkansas, especially Robin Roggio, who has been kind and patient over many years, and who found every book and article I have needed no matter how rare. I also relied on help from many generous colleagues who, despite having to deal with their own difficulties and losses, promptly answered my questions, allowing me to complete chapters without needing to travel at a time when travel was not possible. I especially want to thank Roland Krischel for immediately answering questions about a triptych in the Wallraf-Richartz Museum, which I had planned to revisit, but could not; Roland also kindly met with me during a 2017 visit to Cologne and has been extremely helpful to me ever since. Other scholars who have helped me over the years of work on this project include Joseph Ackley, Thomas Foerster, Jennifer Greenhill, Heike Schlie (whose work on Medialität formed a particularly strong inspiration for this book), Martina Sitt, Christine Unsinn, and Colleen Yarger. Peter Weller-Plate was extraordinarily gracious in sharing information about his restoration of the Niederwildungen Altarpiece with me.

22 

Special thanks to Larry Silver and Jeffrey Chipps Smith for their comments on a draft of this book. It is my good fortune to have these supportive, compassionate, and talented colleagues at the University of Arkansas: Professor of Graphic Design, David Chioffi, who helped with the selection of the cover image, and Assistant Professor of Photography, Rebecca Drolen, who helped make one of my photographs suitable for publication. In addition, I am extremely grateful for the help of the Fayetteville Arkansas graphic designer and web developer, Martin Schapiro, who made the beautiful illustration for Fig. 2.6 and assisted me with the preparation of images in advance of production. The procurement of images and rights for this book proved particularly trying for various reasons, and I would like to thank all those involved for their patience, especially Joyce Faust of Art Resource and Lena Pickartz of the Rheinisches Bildarchiv. The subvention and photo reproductions and rights were funded by the University of Arkansas’s Art History Program Endowment Fund provided by the Walton Family Charitable Support Foundation. Unfortunately, Covid cast a very dark shadow over the final stage of this project. In December of 2020, just a few months before the vaccine became available, my father caught the virus from a home aide, and he died in its aftermath. I hope this book is worthy of its dedication to my dad, whom I miss every day. I will not forget how my dear friend, Lynda Coon, sent one gift basket after another to comfort me for my loss. And I will be forever grateful to my husband, Jeremy Hyman, for the support he gave me during this time.

Introduction Abstract This introduction examines the reasons why German fifteenth-century painting has been so little studied compared to German sixteenth-century painting. Some of the issues considered include scholarly privileging of the Reformation and of Netherlandish and Italian, rather than German f ifteenth-century art. But in Germany another central impediment to study in this field up to around the year 2000 was that the main reference tool for the field, an eleven-volume series on fifteenth-century German painting, was produced by Alfred Stange, one of the leading art historians of the Third Reich, whose scholarship was tainted by Nazi ideology. After examining the impediments to scholarship in this field and how these were overcome, this introduction lays out the scope and theme of the book, its methodology of Medialität, the motivations behind its selection of case studies, and the main arguments of its four chapters. Keywords: Alfred Stange, historiography, Medialität, Nazis

2017 was the 500th anniversary of the writing of Luther’s 95 Theses, considered the beginning of the Reformation. The Lutherjahr 2017 was a major tourist event in Germany, accompanied by national exhibitions in Berlin, Wittenberg, and Eisenach, along with festivals held from 2016 to 2018, including one on 2 July 2016 in Mansfeld to celebrate Luther’s first day at school and one on 31 October 2017 in Wittenberg to celebrate Reformation Day. The art historical and historical scholarly communities in the United States joined these German commemorations by sponsoring numerous publications on Luther and the Reformation,1 as well as by staging Reformationoriented exhibitions—including ones at the Morgan Library and Museum in New York, the Minneapolis Institute of Art, and the Pitts Theology Library at Emory

1 Krey, Bellitto, and Radano, Reformation Observances: 1517–2017, forms one of the many works published in 2017 on the Reformation, and one that specif ically situates itself within the context of the 500th anniversary.

Jacobs, L.F. The Painted Triptychs of Fifteenth-Century Germany: Case Studies of Blurred Boundaries. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2022 doi 10.5117/9789463725408_intro

24 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

University2—as well as conferences, most notably, two at the institutions for which this anniversary held special historical significance, Catholic University and Luther College. The hoopla surrounding the Lutherjahr made even more evident a longstanding scholarly privileging of artistic developments of German art in the age of the Reformation as opposed to art in the century that preceded it, that is, the art of the fifteenth century. This scholarly neglect of German fifteenth-century painting is easy to document. A quick search of Kubikat, the world’s largest art historical database, developed by the four main German art historical research institutes, turns up more than 1500 books focused on Albrecht Dürer, the major German artist of the sixteenth century, but only around 25 books that treat Stefan Lochner, one of the best known German painters of the fifteenth century.3 Reasons for the disparate interest in the two centuries are easy to adduce. To start, the Reformation involves conflict, particularly conflict about the role of art, and conflict is inherently more interesting than lack of conflict, as any scholar of literature, theatre, or viewer of reality TV knows.4 In addition, the sixteenth century is associated with the influence of Italian Renaissance style and the turn to early modernity and theory.5 By contrast, fifteenth-century art represents the last phase of the Gothic style, and hence is linked to the Middle Ages, not early modernity. Scholars naturally gravitate toward studying the rise of new phenomena as opposed to the tail end of old ones. In addition, most German fifteenth-century artists cannot be identified by name, which makes them much less attractive objects of scholarly attention. Hence, the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece, an artist whose works are enormously engaging and of extremely high quality, has formed the subject of only eight books listed in the Kubikat database, and of those, one is the Cologne exhibition titled Genie ohne Namen (Genius without a Name) and another, A Victim of Anonymity—titles that identify the artist’s scholarly public relations problem as clearly as can be.6 In the United States, within the field of scholarship on Northern Renaissance fifteenth-century art, Netherlandish painting has largely stolen the spotlight, especially in the 1960s and 70s, a time when, following the 1953 publication of Erwin 2 The exhibition at the Morgan was titled ‘Word and Image: Martin Luther’s Reformation’; the one in Minneapolis, ‘Art and the Reformation’; and that at Emory University, ‘Law and Grace: Martin Luther, Lucas Cranach and the Promise of Salvation’. 3 https://aleph.mpg.de/F?func=file&file_name=find-b&local_base=kub01 (accessed 14/1/2022) 4 For one assessment of the role of conflict as a defining element in tragedy as discussed in Aristotle’s Poetics, see Gellrich, ‘Aristotle’s Poetics’. 5 See Alpers, Art of Describing, pp. xix–xxiv, regarding how twentieth-century scholars made Italian Renaissance art central to the traditions of Western art and placed particular value on Albertian views of perspective and istoria that differ from Northern European traditions. 6 Budde and Krischel, Genie ohne Namen, and MacGregor, Victim of Anonymity.

Introduction 

Panofsky’s seminal book, scholarship on Netherlandish fifteenth-century painting was particularly lively.7 American scholars in those decades saw Netherlandish artists (such as Robert Campin, Jan van Eyck, and Rogier van der Weyden) as leading figures in terms of artistic innovation and quality, and viewed German fifteenth-century artists as inferior to and mostly imitative of Netherlandish art. As Charles Cuttler stated in his 1968 Northern Painting, the first major textbook on Northern Renaissance art, German painting of the first half of the fifteenth century ‘rarely scaled the heights attempted in Italy and Flanders’.8 Cuttler characterized German painting of the second half of the fifteenth century largely in terms of ‘the almost complete domination[…]of Rogier’s outlook’, and his chapter on German late fifteenth-century art considered only one artist, Michael Pacher, as free from dependence on Netherlandish style.9 This approach started to change with the 1985 appearance of James Snyder’s new textbook, in which German painters of the first half of the fifteenth century were finally treated in their own right without negative comparisons to the Netherlandish counterparts.10 However, in the first edition of this book, the chapter on later fifteenth-century German art is titled, ‘The Impact of Netherlandish Art on German Painting of the Later Fifteenth Century’, hence signalling the bias that historically has hampered scholarly interest in fifteenthcentury German painting among English-speaking scholars.11 Within Germany itself, more complex factors impacted art historical investigation of these works.

Historiography The history of scholarship on German fifteenth-century painting among Englishspeaking scholars is very short. The main body of English-language scholarship on this material is of fairly recent date and largely can be counted on one hand: 7 Panofsky, Early Netherlandish Painting. For a brief summary of scholarly responses to Panofsky, see Harbison, ‘Iconography and Iconology’, pp. 391–406. 8 Cuttler, Northern Painting, p. 261. 9 Cuttler, Northern Painting, p. 284. Pächt, ‘Zur deutschen Bildauffassung’, p. 108, however, took an opposing view, arguing that early Germany painting did not strictly follow the Netherlandish example, at least in terms of the relation of the object to the observer’s point of view. 10 Snyder, Northern Renaissance Art, p. 227, begins the chapter on German f ifteenth-century art by stating, ‘The developments of the arts in the German-speaking territories during the course of the fifteenth century have been described and analyzed for the most part in terms of the propensities of the German painters to absorb and assimilate the ars nova of the Netherlandish artists. No doubt Netherlandish influence is a foremost factor to be considered, but it is not the only, and the arts of the many regions along the Rhine and beyond have intrinsic values and qualities of their own’. 11 This problem is rectified in the 2005 second edition, by Larry Silver and Henry Luttikhuizen, in which this chapter is re-titled simply, ‘German Art of the Later Fifteenth Century’.

25

26 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

technical work on Cologne underdrawings by Molly Faries (mainly in the 1980s and 90s); the monograph on Stefan Lochner by Julien Chapius (2004); and two books by Brigitte Corley, one of the few British scholars working in this field, one on Conrad von Soest and Westphalian art (1996) and one on Cologne painting (2000).12 Otherwise, German scholars have largely monopolized the field. Not surprisingly, in Germany there has been a longer and more robust history of scholarship on German fifteenth-century painting. But within Germany, scholarship on this specific area of German painting, also not so surprisingly, has been impacted by quite different sorts of cultural baggage. In Germany, the first major research on German fifteenth-century painting produced in the twentieth century appeared in the 1913–1919 publication, Die deutsche Malerei vom ausgehenden Mittelalter bis zum Ende der Renaissance by Fritz Burger, Hermann Schmitz, and Ignaz Beth. This three-volume series is organized by region and chronology: I) Bohemia, Austria, and Bavaria up to 1450; II part 1) Austria, Bavaria, Swabia, Upper Rhine, and Switzerland up to 1420, and II part 2) Lower Germany; and III) Upper Germany in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. Despite the appearance of a clear organizing principle, the volumes nevertheless lack a systematic focus: they combine discussions of thematic issues—such as Italian or French influences, perspective, and naturalism—with attention to artistic developments in the various regions under consideration. The authors occasionally focus on the work of a specific artist, but the analysis is not exclusively organized around individuals; the volumes are not limited to panel painting, but consider a variety of two-dimensional media, including glass, fresco, manuscript illumination, tapestries, prints, and book illustration. This study was superseded by the eleven-volume set compiled by Alfred Stange, Deutsche Malerei der Gotik. The first three volumes were published in 1934, 1936, and 1938; after the war, the series publication resumed in 1951 and was completed a decade later, in 1961.13 It was partially reprinted in 1969. The series focuses primarily on panel painting, but also includes wall painting and manuscript illumination, often in separate sections at the end of each chapter. The chronological range mostly covers the century between 1400 and 1500—although volumes one and two span the dates from 1250 to 1350 and from 1350 to 1400, respectively, divided by region. The entire series aims to develop a systematic understanding of stylistic distinctions between regions, to create groupings around individual masters and workshops, and to trace regional stylistic developments over time. Each volume includes numerous illustrations of artworks, many reproduced for the first time. 12 Faries, ‘Technical Investigation’; Faries, ‘Stefan Lochner’s Darmstadt Presentation’; Faries, ‘Under­ drawings in Cologne Paintings’; Chapuis, Stefan Lochner; Corley, Conrad; and Corley, Painting and Patronage. 13 Grötecke, ‘Alfred Stange’, considers the full history of this publication.

Introduction 

One drawback is that the illustrations are small and in mediocre black and white, but colour reproduction was rare at that time. Despite the relatively low quality of the photographs (at least by current photographic standards), the series is still unmatched in scope. Indeed, it is such a fundamental resource for research on this topic that there has been talk of updating and republishing the series in the twenty-first century.14 Stange’s work and approach was extended through the 1990s by Paul Pieper, who studied with him in 1936 in Bonn and went on in the 1970s to serve as director of the Westfälisches Landesmuseums für Kunst und Kulturgeschichte in Münster (now called the LWL-Museum für Kunst und Kultur), and to publish widely on many topics but particularly on German f ifteenth-century art in Westphalia and Cologne.15 But otherwise, Stange did not have a large cadre of students and followers in his wake to generate work on German fifteenth-century painting, as typically occurs within the German university system. Art historical scholarship under the Nazis was largely marked by a brain drain, when leading art historians fled Germany.16 In post-war Germany, Stange’s influence on art historical circles was tainted by his Nazi affiliations: in 1933 he had joined the Nazi party (NSDAP) and he also joined the SA (Sturmabteilung).17 In 1945 after the war, Stange was removed from his professorship as part of the denazification process.18 He, however, was able to resume work on Deutsche Malerei der Gotik and received funding support for the project; his dismissal from his teaching post was even changed to an emeritus status in 1962.19 But he was one of only a few art historians not allowed to eventually return to their teaching posts after being fired and hence was never able to train more students in the post-war period.20 Moreover, his Nazi past, though seemingly ignored by the scholarly community, cast a cloud over the corpus of fifteenth-century German painting that he had single-handedly created. This 14 Grötecke, ‘Alfred Stange’, p. 15. 15 On Pieper, see Caesar, ‘Wanderkünstler’, pp. 117–118; Pieper did contribute to the catalog of one of the few large exhibitions of early German painting prior to the rise in interest in the field in the years around 2000, the 1974 Vor Stefan Lochner exhibition at the Wallraf-Richartz Museum in Cologne, which was also accompanied by a conference, with essays published in 1977, including one by Pieper, ‘Köln und Westfalen’. 16 See Petropoulos, Faustian Bargain, pp. 165–166, and Preiss, ‘Wissenschaft’, p. 50. Doll, ‘Politisierung des Geistes’, pp. 985–186, discusses how, after the Nazis came into power, art history was the discipline most affected by Nazi politics, and, as a result, one-quarter of the art historians in Germany had to leave the discipline and were largely replaced with Nazi members or sympathizers. 17 On the life of Stange, see Klee, Personenlexikon, p. 596. There is some question about whether Stange joined the SA in 1933 or 1934, as discussed by Doll, ‘Politisierung des Geistes’, esp. p. 986, note 28. 18 On Stange’s dismissal from his position, see Klee, Personenlexikon, p. 596. 19 On his emeritus status, see Klee, Personenlexicon, p. 596. 20 Caesar, ‘Wanderkünstler’, p. 105, attributes this to his being, along with Pinder, one of the central Nazi art historians.

27

28 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

explains to a large degree why so few German scholars undertook research in this field throughout the second half of the twentieth century and why, up to around the year 2000, German scholarship on fifteenth-century German painting remained largely within the traditional areas of style, dating, assembling workshops, and regional localization, rather than moving into new methodological areas, such as technical studies, patronage, iconography, meaning, gender, and historical context, etc., as German scholarship on fifteenth-century Netherlandish and Italian art had already done.21 Only recently have scholars directly acknowledged that Deutsche Malerei der Gotik, though seemingly a neutral scholarly work, takes a political stance consistent with Nazi ideology. In a 2013 article, Iris Grötecke argued convincingly that Stange’s volumes are ideological both in terms of presenting German Gothic painting within a regional realm that incorporated the expansionist goals of the Nazi regime, and in terms of presenting the history of style as representing a deterministic path tied to a region, that is, tied to the soil and its people, and free from outside influences. 22 Although these unsavoury, somewhat hidden biases were clearly ignored as Stange continued his work with the support of the art historical community in post-war Germany, the examination of f ifteenthcentury German painting throughout the second half of the twentieth century was burdened with a double Nazi association: first, the general taint that under the Nazis, art historical scholarship had been used to glorify German culture and demonstrate German racial superiority;23 and second, that the specific field of fifteenth-century German painting had been pioneered, and its main reference tool established, by an avowed Nazi.24 Beginning in the 1990s, and especially after 2000, however, German scholars became increasingly interested in fifteenth-century German painting. They produced a much greater number of publications, exhibitions, technological studies, conservation work, and digital documentation dedicated to this material. It is outside the scope of this introduction to summarize the full extent of all these 21 Bickendorf, ‘Deutsche Kunst’, discusses the bias in German scholarship toward Italian and Netherlandish art, up to the eighteenth century, which may also play a lingering role here. 22 Grötecke, ‘Alfred Stange’, pp. 20–22. Caesar, ‘Wanderkünstler’, pp. 106–109, made similar points in 2012, but Grötecke’s article presented the most sustained examination of Stange’s ideology as it plays out in this publication. 23 On the tasks of art history under the Nazis, particularly its role in glorifying German artists and German racial superiority, see Preiss, ‘Wissenschaft’, esp. p. 50, and Petropoulus, Faustian Bargain, p. 168. 24 Not only did Stange join the party and the SA, but also he contributed to the 1939 Festschrift Hitler in which he espoused a view of art history fully in line with Nazi values. See Doll, ‘Politisieriung des Geistes’, p. 987, which discusses Stange’s essay in the Festschrift and how it stresses the originality of the accomplishments of German art as opposed to foreign art and influences from abroad, thereby espousing a Nazi ideology of German superiority and racial purity.

Introduction 

activities. But key publications appeared at this time, notably Robert Suckale’s major two-volume Die Erneuerung der Malkunst vor Dürer (2009), which focused on painting in Franconia. Because Suckale was a scholar who strongly condemned the incorporation of nationalist and Nazi ideology within German art historical studies under the Third Reich, his engagement with early painting in Franconia had important implications for freeing the subject from the stigma of its scholarly past.25 Moreover, his study brought special attention to fifteenth-century painting by casting light specifically on those painters in Franconia who had been overshadowed by the tremendous reputation of the region’s sixteenth-century rock star, Albrecht Dürer. Other publications calling attention to f ifteenth-century German painting include a number of catalogues of early German paintings from key German museums, such as Frank Günter Zehnder’s on early Cologne painting in the Wallraf-Richartz Museum (1990);26 Bodo Brinkmann and Stephan Kemperdick’s on German paintings from 1300 to 1500 in the Städelmuseum in Frankfurt (2002);27 and Kemperdick’s on German and Bohemian paintings in the Gemäldegalerie in Berlin (2010).28 Major catalogues also highlighted painters of this period, for example, the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece exhibition in Cologne (2001), and the Hans Holbein the Elder exhibition in Stuttgart (2010–2011).29 Both these large exhibition catalogues included a variety of essays demonstrating a range of methodological approaches and also incorporated many technological studies. Other publications on fifteenth-century German painting have included volumes of collected essays centred on individual altarpieces, such as that on the Peter and Paul Altarpiece in Hildesheim (2000), and on the high altarpiece in Göttingen (2005), as well as more monographic studies, such as Helmut Möhring’s study of Gabriel Angler (1997) or more thematic approaches like Felix Prinz’s interrogation of how fifteenth-century painting references other media (2018).30 Some major conservation projects have been the restorations of Conrad von Soest’s altarpiece in Bad Wildungen (1993–1996) and of the retable of Altenberg in the Städel Museum (in conjunction with a focus exhibition and catalogue of 2016).31 This latter project tied 25 Hamburger, ‘Robert Suckale’, p. 367, discusses Suckale’s critique of the history of German art history under the Nazis and how it is evidenced in Suckale, ‘Wilhelm Pinder’. 26 Zehnder, Altkölner Malerei. 27 Brinkmann and Kemperdick, Deutsche Gemälde im Städel 1300. 28 Kemperdick, Deutsche und böhmische Gemälde. 29 Budde and Krischel, Genie ohne Namen, and Wiemann, Holbein Graue Passion in ihrer Zeit. 30 Schälicke, Drei Tafeln des Peter-und Paul-Altars; Carqué and Röchelein, Hochaltarretabel der St. Jacobi-Kirche; Möhring, Tegernseer Altarretabel; Prinz, Gemalte Skulpturenretabel. 31 Sander, Schaufenster des Himmels.

29

30 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

into the 2011–2015 research project, Mittelalterliche Retabel in Hessen, conducted under the auspices of the Städel Museum and the Universities of Frankfurt, Marburg, and Osnabrück, which involved the study and digital documentation of the medieval and early modern altarpieces within that region.32 In addition to these activities in Germany, another key activity in the field was the 2010–2011 exhibition in Bruges, Van Eyck to Dürer: Early Netherlandish Painting and Central Europe 1430–1530. Organized by Till-Holger Borchert, this exhibition catalogue represents a fully international effort with contributions from scholars from a wide variety of countries. The catalogue provides the most nuanced assessment to date of the relationships between the Netherlands and Germany: as the preface states, ‘The catalogue clearly shows that the relationship was by no means static or one-way; influences went back and forth, and the ways in which they were assimilated and visually expressed shifted constantly’.33 In its totality, the exhibition and accompanying catalogue effectively overturned older traditions regarding the mere derivativeness of German fifteenth-century painting.

Methodology, Scope, and Theme of this Study Nevertheless, more work needs to be done to bring the study of the field of German fifteenth-century painting up to speed in relation to Netherlandish and Italian fifteenth-century painting. This book attempts to move this project forward, not through a full-scale, systematic study of German fifteenth-century triptychs, but admittedly in a more limited way. The limits of this book were motivated first by my long-term scholarly interests in pursuing a specific methodological approach, which Germans refer to as Medialität.34 This methodology studies the consequences arising out of a medium. In its simplest sense, a methodology focusing on Medialität probes the full range of consequences (visual, semantic, or any other relevant aspect) of an art work’s being produced in a medium, say, sculpture rather than painting. But the German sense of a medium extends well beyond the English term ‘medium’ to include things that English speakers would consider to be a ‘function’, such as an altarpiece, and what English speakers would consider to be a ‘format’, such as, a triptych.35 Since there may or may not be an English translation of the 32 This resulted in the two-volume publication, Schütte et al., Mittelalterliche Retabel in Hesse. 33 Borchert, Van Eyck to Dürer, p. 9. 34 This approach has informed my work on Netherlandish carved altarpieces, which combine painting and sculpture, as well as my work on the Netherlandish triptych. 35 The expanded sense of medium within an understanding of Medialität is presented in Rimmele, ‘Transparanzen’, pp.15–19. My initial insights into this approach are much indebted to correspondence with Heike Schlie.

Introduction 

Medialität—‘mediality’ does not exist on dictionary.com and a Google search for ‘mediality’ turns up a variety of meanings, many of which differ from that of the German—I will use the German term throughout this book as defined here for purposes of clarity. Medialität is a valuable methodology because it provides ways of understanding meaning within art that are bound up with the ‘medium’ rather than symbols.36 This book applies this methodology specifically to an examination of the ‘medium’ of the triptych to position this study within the growing scholarship on the Medialität of German fifteenth-century triptychs and thereby complements the more extensive literature with this methodological focus directed at the Netherlandish triptych.37 In considering the triptych format from the standpoint of Medialität, a central issue is the treatment of the boundaries between the triptych’s parts—both the separate panels that make up the whole, and the front and back sides that make up the different views of the open and closed work (since the panels are normally hinged to allow for opening and closing). For this reason, this book focuses on the theme of the boundary. The examples in this book are specifically selected to highlight instances in which boundaries are blurred. Many fifteenth-century triptychs did in fact respect the boundaries inherent in the format, but those examples in which boundaries are transgressed represent particularly strong examples of how artists leveraged the format to produce meaning.38 In addition, those cases of blurred boundaries often represent previously unrecognized interconnections, which have important ramifications for our understanding of the artworks and, sometimes, our understanding of the relations between German and Netherlandish triptychs as well. One of the key limits of this study is its focus on fully painted triptychs, rather than sculpted triptychs (or ones that combined sculpted centres with painted wings). Fifteenth-century German art is particularly well known for sculpted altarpieces produced by artists such as Michael Pacher, Michel Erhart, Bernt Notke, Tilman Riemenschneider, and Veit Stoss. Certainly, these sculpted works are highly appropriate objects of study for the methodological approach and thematic focus of this book. Questions of Medialität raised by these sculpted examples can be both similar to and 36 In this way the methodology is meant to go beyond the Panofskian idea of meaning as bound up with disguised symbols. 37 Rimmele, ‘Transparanzen’, and Krischel, ‘Now you see me’, are some examples of the use of the methodology of Medialität for the study of German and Netherlandish triptychs. Schlie, ‘Martyrium’, and Jacobs, Opening Doors, focus on this methodology within the specif ic study of Netherlandish triptychs. 38 The probing of blurred boundaries in early German painting also helps counter the claims of Pächt, ‘Zur deutschen Bildauffassung’, p. 113, that, in early German painting, the picture border functioned as a spatial border, creating closet-like and even prison-like spaces.

31

32 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 0.1. Lucas Moser, St. Magdalene Altarpiece, exterior, 1432, St. Maria Magdalena Church, Tiefenbronn (Photo: Erich Lessing/Art Resource, NY).

different from those raised within fully painted triptychs. For example, the painted exterior of Lucas Moser’s St. Magdalene Altarpiece of 1432 (Fig. 0.1), which depicts legends from the Magdalene’s life after Christ’s Ascension, definitely shows an interest in blurred boundaries. Moser paints green frames around the exterior’s three narrative

Introduction 

scenes but allows the architectural setting of the Magdalene’s last communion at the right to continue across into the central scene of the Magdalene’s arrival in Marseille (which itself spans the crack between the closed wings). The willingness of this Upper Rhenish artist to transgress both the boundaries of the physical panels and of the frame he himself painted to divide the scenes is similar to the treatment of the frames on the interior of Conrad von Soest’s fully painted Niederwildungen Altarpiece (Fig. 1.1), which will be the focus of Chapter One. But the opened St. Magdalene Altarpiece (Fig. 0.2) displays a dynamic not found in the Niederwildungen Altarpiece nor in any of the fully painted triptychs. The interior of Moser’s altarpiece presents a central sculpture—the current sculpture is not original and replaces an earlier sculpture of unknown subject matter39—paired with painted wings depicting standing saints and a painted lunette at the top and painted predella at the bottom. The possibilities for connections between boundaries in the St. Magdalene Altarpiece are thus complicated by differences between media (painting and sculpture) not found in fully painted works and by a presumed need for collaboration between Moser, who is known only as a painter, and an unknown sculptor.40 Other sculpted examples, such as the Blaubeuren Altarpiece (Fig. 4.5), raise issues of Medialität that differ both from the St. Magdalene Altarpiece and from those typically found in fully painted triptychs, such as the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece’s Holy Cross Triptych (Fig. 4.6). These differences arise from the specific format and arrangement of media within the Blaubeuren Altarpiece, which is more typical of later fifteenth-century sculpted works—rather than Moser’s unusually designed earlier fifteenth-century example. 41 The Blaubeuren Altarpiece’s interior combines three-dimensional standing figures in the central shrine with narrative relief sculpture in the wings, and, like many German sculpted altarpieces, it possesses a double set of wings. Thus, unlike the typical painted triptych, which has only two views, the Blaubeuren Altarpiece has three views, one displaying sculptures, attributed to Michel Erhart, and two comprised of paintings, attributed to several other hands. 42 While explorations of these boundaries and interactions of media within this and other sculpted/painted triptychs represent very valuable scholarly 39 See Morris, ‘Lucas Moser’s’, pp. 153–160. 40 Morris, ‘Lucas Moser’s’, pp. 153–154, discusses the theory that Multscher made the original sculpture for the shrine, and why it was rejected. 41 On the unusual shape of this altarpiece, see Morris, ‘Lucas Moser’s’, pp. 43–46. 42 Kahsnitz, Carved Altarpieces, pp. 185–186, argues that the claims for joint attribution to Gregor Erhart are problematic, although the carvings likely were divided up within the workshop of Michel Erhart. Kahsnitz, Carved Altarpieces, pp. 186–187, argues that the paintings were largely produced by Bartholomäus Zeitblom, along with Bernhard Strigel and another artist, possibly from the workshop of the Ulm painter Hans Schüchlin. His attributions revise those advanced by Stange, Deutsche Malerei, vol. VIII, pp. 26–28.

33

34 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 0.2. St. Magdalene Altarpiece, open, paintings by Lucas Moser, 1432, and sixteenth-century sculpture replacing an original fifteenth-century sculpture, St. Maria Magdalena Church, Tiefenbronn (Photo: Ewald Freiburger, J.S. Klotz Verlagshaus Neulingen Germany).

Introduction 

projects—as is evidenced by Valerie Möhle’s essay on the high altarpiece in the St. Jacobi-Kirche in Göttingen, for example43—this present book’s focus specifically on painted triptychs allows for a more sustained consideration of Medialität specific to the fully pictorial format. Moreover, this focus allows for a more sustained assessment of how German painted triptychs compare to their Netherlandish counterparts, thereby providing a stronger basis for demonstrating the vitality, rather than imitative nature, of German fifteenth-century art. 44 Nevertheless, in this book, German sculpted triptychs will occasionally be included as comparisons to pictorial triptychs when relevant.

The Case Studies The four main chapters of this book present case studies designed to present a sampling of ways in which meaning could be bound into the creation of a triptych’s blurred boundaries. The case studies are largely arranged chronologically, beginning with studies of the boundaries inhering in the triptych format itself—both within the interior itself and between the interior and exterior. The conception of the boundaries within the case studies then expands first to examine the regional boundary between the Netherlands and Germany, and then the extensive range of boundaries addressed in the triptychs of the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece, which include boundaries between artistic media (sculpture and painting) and metaphysical boundaries between earth and heaven. Because the case studies were selected to foreground especially striking examples of blurred boundaries—and ones that had particularly important consequences for the meanings of the triptychs—this book does not cover the full range of artistic traditions across the whole expanse of the German-speaking regions of the time. The examples included here focus primarily on Cologne, Westphalia, and, to a lesser degree, Southern Germany. But this does not imply that blurred boundaries cannot be found in triptychs from other Germanic regions not treated in this book. The first case study, in Chapter One, centres on Conrad von Soest’s famous 1403 Niederwildungen Altarpiece (Fig. 1.1) and the boundaries created on its interior. This work, like many German painted triptychs in the first decades of the fifteenth century, especially within Westphalia, divides its interior into many individual 43 See Möhle, ‘Vielfalt’. 44 My previous studies of Netherlandish carved altarpieces and Netherlandish painted triptychs have shown distinct divergences between these two formats; see Jacobs, Early Netherlandish Carved Altarpieces and Jacobs, Opening Doors. The present book’s goal of mapping issues of Medialität across the German/ Netherlandish regional divide thus provides another rationale for confining the study to the painted format.

35

36 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

scenes, each showing a different event in the life of Christ. The scenes are all multiply framed, both with painted forms and even a little-noticed pastiglia relief strip, made of white chalk and moulded into a thin, rope-like shape, which surrounds each scene. This compounding of frames within the open triptych gives the strong impression that each scene within the narrative cycles depicted here is sharply separated from one another. But, as this chapter argues, this impression is quite wrong. For within the Niederwildungen Altarpiece, Conrad von Soest—as he, his contemporaries, and followers did in other triptychs—made the transgression of boundaries into a leitmotif and a way to forge visual and iconographic connections between individual scenes within narrative cycles. This chapter examines the connections created across the divisions within the Niederwildungen Altarpiece’s interior and within other early fifteenth-century Westphalian triptychs, and the ways in which these blurred boundaries contributed to the visual character and meaning of these works. This chapter provides the first sustained consideration of the presence and significance of the pastiglia frames within the Niederwildungen Altarpiece. Of special importance here is the examination of where the pastiglia frames were cut to eliminate the frame and thereby allow sections of the scene to extend past the strips that would have contained the images. Since the pastiglia was applied to the altarpiece prior to the painting of the scenes, the careful cuts of the pastiglia reveal that violation of the boundaries of the scenes was planned into the altarpiece from the very start and was intrinsic to its conception. Chapter Two moves from a consideration of the interior boundaries of the triptych to an investigation of the boundaries between interior and exterior. This chapter probes the ramif ications of the use of colour on the exterior of most German fifteenth-century triptychs. This practice stands in contrast to the traditions of Netherlandish fifteenth-century triptychs, which typically placed grisaille images of illusionistic sculptures on their exteriors. 45 Hence German artists, unlike their Netherlandish peers, did not structure the exterior and interior of the triptych as a seeming opposition between the media of sculpture and painting. In Netherlandish triptychs, this feigned opposition of media served in part to demonstrate the artistry of the pictorial medium by showcasing how painters could create an astonishingly deceptive illusion of sculpture. Instead, as this chapter argues, German triptychs displayed artistry on triptych exteriors in other ways, probing realism without creating one side effect of the use of illusionistic grisaille, namely, the effect of distancing.46 The inclusion of pseudo-sculptures on the exteriors of Netherlandish 45 Although by the later fifteenth century, Netherlandish, grisaille became more pictorial, as noted in Jacobs, Opening Doors, pp. 224–225, the exteriors of many fifteenth-century triptychs still retained strong references to sculpture and illusionistic elements. 46 To be sure, certain German triptychs, especially those produced in Cologne, created distancing on their interiors through the inclusion of gold leaf, which heightens the interior’s transcendent character.

Introduction 

triptychs makes viewers aware that what they are seeing in the triptych, despite its seeming realism, is all just representation, artifice, not reality. But because German triptychs stay within their pictorial character, they never consciously call attention to the nature of the medium’s role as representation. This desire to maintain pictorial representational modes may explain more generally why German painters almost never adopted Netherlandish pseudo-sculptural forms of grisaille at all—except, for example, when depicting buildings with sculpture on them—but did develop alternative, vital, and inventive forms of pictorial monochrome, which are especially evident in the works of the Munich artist, Gabriel Angler. His monochromes represent a high point of painterly approaches to the medium: as far as is known, unlike Netherlandish grisailles, his monochromes appear on single panels or within triptych interiors (Figs. 2.9, 2.10, 2.11), but never on triptych exteriors. By including colour on their exteriors, German triptychs achieve much greater connections between their interiors and exteriors than is typically found in Netherlandish works, and hence create greater transparency between the closed and opened views. This blurring of the boundaries between exterior and interior plays a powerful role for generating meanings that resonate across the two views of the triptych, as exemplified in several works discussed in this chapter, notably the Master of St. Veronica’s Virgin with the Sweet Pea Blossom (Figs. 2.31, 2.32), the Peter and Paul Altarpiece of Hildesheim (Figs. 1.26, 2.23), the Crucifixion Triptych by the Master of the Kirchsahr Altarpiece (Figs. 2.33, 2.34), and the Master of Schöppingen’s Haldern Altarpiece (Figs. 1.20, 2.35). Chapter Three moves the examination of the relations between German and Netherlandish art beyond the boundaries nested within the triptych format itself into the broader issue of regional boundaries activated through the movement of artists and art works across them. This chapter investigates the case study of the commissioning of the Columba Triptych (Fig. 3.1) by a Cologne patron from the leading Netherlandish artist of the mid-fifteenth century, Rogier van der Weyden. Chapter Three builds on Chapter Two’s claims about the independence and vitality of German traditions of triptych design by arguing against the long-held notion that artistic influences between the Netherlands and Cologne went in one direction, that is, from the Netherlands to Cologne. It considers, more fully than previous scholarship to date, how Rogier van der Weyden was influenced by Stefan Lochner and by Cologne triptych traditions, and how Rogier very consciously developed his Columba Triptych in relation to, and in competition with, Lochner’s Dombild (Fig. 2.22). But while Rogier incorporated specific Cologne features into his triptych, ones not previously seen in Netherlandish examples, he also showcased specific Netherlandish features that were largely unprecedented in Cologne works as a competitive challenge to Stefan Lochner. This chapter’s study of triptychs produced by Cologne artists in the second half of the fifteenth century indicates that while

37

38 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Cologne artists were influenced by Netherlandish style generally, they were quite reluctant to incorporate key aspects of the Netherlandish triptych that Rogier featured in his Columba Triptych. Indeed Cologne triptychs for a long time retained local traditions, such as gold leaf, which were included in Lochner’s triptych, but not in Rogier’s Columba Altarpiece. 47 Hence even in Cologne, the area considered the most susceptible to Netherlandish influence, local traditions of triptych design were able to withstand competition from one of the most famous Netherlandish paintings on display in one of the main churches in town. This chapter exposes the multi-directionality of the interrelations between the Netherlands and Germany as well as the ways in which the two regional traditions both competed with and accommodated one another. Chapter Four focuses on one artist, the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece, who engaged with an especially wide variety of boundaries. One was regional, since this master straddles the boundaries between the Northern Netherlands and Cologne: although a large body of his works were produced for Cologne patrons, scholars have advanced diverging opinions about whether he was born, trained, and worked in Cologne or in various Netherlandish cities. Another boundary line negotiated in this artist’s works is that between seriousness and humour, which creates odd shifts within the Bartholomew Master’s triptychs between moments of religious intensity and moments when the seriousness seems to shift into deadpan irony. The Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece also engages with the boundaries between media by regularly evoking in his paintings the effects of sculpture. He does so not just on the exteriors of his triptychs, in unusual late fifteenth-century examples of pseudo-sculptural grisaille imagery, but also in polychrome interiors bearing standing saints who evoke the appearance of polychromed sculpted figures. This chapter argues, however, that the most central boundary within the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece’s three major triptychs is spiritual, that is, the boundary between heaven and earth. By showing forms that project forward into the real space in front of the triptych and forms that are located in an infinite, heavenly space somewhere beyond it—and, sometimes depicting forms that are ambiguously placed between earth and heaven—the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece distinguishes the realm of the material from the immaterial, while also demonstrating ways one can make the passage between the two through acts of faith. This chapter examines how the Bartholomew Master exploits the built-in boundaries of the triptych medium to visualize the fundamental desire of the donors (and viewers) of his triptychs to transcend the boundaries of the physical to reach the eternal realm. 47 Rogier van der Weyden did, however, use gold leaf in some of his other works, for example, the Beaune Altarpiece, the Prado Deposition, and the Medici Madonna.

Introduction 

The book concludes with a coda that examines the German triptych in the age of Dürer, with specific attention to the triptychs of Albrecht Dürer, Hans Baldung Grien, and Lucas Cranach the Elder. Although the use of the triptych declined significantly in German-speaking regions due to the impact of the Reformation and the influence of the Italian Renaissance, this coda reveals that sixteenth-century German artists continued to recognize and exploit the triptych’s Medialität not only in the early years of the century, but even, surprisingly, at and post mid-century when the triptych at times took on a new role, that of serving as a Reformation altarpiece.

Works Cited Alpers, Svetlana. The Art of Describing: Dutch Art in the Seventeenth Century. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1983. Bickendorf, Gabriele. ‘Deutsche Kunst und deutsche Kunstgeschichte: Von Winckelmann bis zur Berliner Schule’. In Dortmund und Conrad von Soest im spätmittelalterlichen Europa, edited by Thomas Schlip and Barbara Welzel, pp. 29–41. Bielefeld: Verlag für Regionalgeschichte, 2004. Borchert, Till-Holger. Van Eyck to Dürer: Early Netherlandish Painting and Central Europe 1430–1530. Tielt: Lannoo, 2010. Brinkmann, Bodo and Stephan Kemperdick. Deutsche Gemälde im Städel, 1300–1500. Mainz am Rhein: Von Zabern, 2002. Budde, Rainer and Roland Krischel, eds. Genie ohne Namen: Der Meister des BartholomäusAltars. Cologne: Wallraf-Richartz Museum, 2001. Burger, Fritz, Hermann Schmitz, and Ignaz Beth. Die deutsche Malerei vom ausgehenden Mittelalter bis zum Ende der Renaissance. Berlin-Neubabelsberg: Akademische Verlagsgesellschaft Athenaion m.b.h, 1913–1919. Caesar, Claudia. Der ‘Wanderkünstler’: Ein kunsthistorischer Mythos. Berlin: LIT Verlag, 2012. Carqué, Bernd and Hedwig Röckelein, eds. Das Hochaltarretabel der St. Jacobi-Kirche in Göttingen. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2005. Chapuis, Julien. Stefan Lochner: Image Making in Fifteenth-Century Cologne. Turnhout: Brepols, 2004. Corley, Brigitte. Conrad von Soest: Painter among Merchant Princes. London: Harvey Miller, 1996. Corley, Brigitte. Painting and Patronage in Cologne 1300–1500. London: Harvey Miller, 2000. Cuttler, Charles D. Northern Painting: From Pucelle to Bruegel—Fourteenth, Fifteenth, and Sixteenth Centuries. New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1968. Doll, Nikola. ‘Politisierung des Geistes: Der Kunsthistoriker Alfred Stange und die Bonner Kunstgeschichte im Kontext nationalsozialistischer Expansionspolitik’. In Griff

39

40 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

nach dem Westen: Die ‘Westforschung’ der völkisch-nationalen Wissenschaften zum nordwesteuropäischen Raum (1919–1960), edited by Burkhard Dietz, Helmut Gabel, and Ulrich Tiedau, vol. 2, pp. 979–1015. Münster: Waxmann, 2003. Faries, Molly. ‘The Technical Investigation of Some Panels in the Master of the Holy Kinship Group: A Progress Report’. In Le dessin sous-jacent dans la peinture: Colloque VI, 12–14 septembre 1985, pp. 63–67. Louvain-la-Neuve: College Érasme, 1987. Faries, Molly. ‘Stefan Lochner’s Darmstadt Presentation in the Temple and the Paris “Copy”’. In Le dessin sous-jacent dans la peinture: Colloque VIII, 8–10 septembre 1989, dessin sous-jacent et copies, edited by Hélène Verougstraete-Marcq and Roger van Schoute, pp. 15–24. Louvain-la-Neuve: Collège Érasme, 1991. Faries, Molly. ‘Underdrawings in Cologne Paintings: Interpretative Issues Related to Attribution and Workshop Practice’. In Unsichtbare Meisterzeichnungen auf dem Malgrund: Cranach und seine Zeitgnossen, edited by Ingo Sandner, pp. 309–316. Regensburg: Schnell und Steiner, 1998. Gellrich, M.W. ‘Aristotle’s Poetics and the Problem of Tragic Conflict’. Ramus: Critical Studies in Greek and Roman Literature 13 (1984), pp. 155–169. Grötecke, Iris. ‘Alfred Stanges Buchreihe Deutsche Malerei der Gotik: Ein Stil als geschichtliches Schicksal’. In Mittelalterbilder im Nationalsozialismus, edited by Maike Steinkamp and Bruno Reudenbach, pp. 13–29. Berlin: Akademie Verlag, 2013. Hamburger, Jeffrey. ‘Robert Suckale (1943–2020)’. Burlington Magazine 162 (April 2020), pp. 367–368. Harbison, Craig. ‘Iconography and Iconology’. In Early Netherlandish Painting: Rediscovery, Reception, and Research, edited by Bernhard Ridderbos, Anne van Buren, and Henk van Veen, pp. 378–406. Los Angeles: J. Paul Getty Museum, 2005. Jacobs, Lynn F. Early Netherlandish Carved Altarpieces, 1380–1550: Medieval Tastes and Mass Marketing. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998. Jacobs, Lynn F. Opening Doors: The Early Netherlandish Triptych Reinterpreted. University Park, PA: The Pennsylvania State University Press, 2012. Kahsnitz, Rainer. Carved Altarpieces: Masterpieces of the Late Gothic. London: Thames and Hudson, 2005. Kemperdick, Stephan. Deutsche und böhmische Gemälde, 1230–1430: Kritischer Bestandskatalog. Petersberg: M. Imhof, 2010. Klee, Ernst. Das Personenlexikon zum Dritten Reich: Wer war was vor und nach 1945? Frankfurt am Main: S. Fischer, 2003. Krey, Philip D., John A. Radano, and Christopher M. Bellitto. Reformation Observances: 1517–2017. Eugene, OR: Cascade Books, 2017. Krischel, Roland. ‘Now you see me: Klappbilder als Medienwunder’. In Klappeffekte: Faltbare Bildträger in der Vormoderne, edited by David Ganz and Marius Rimmele, pp. 139–159. Berlin: Dietrich Reimer, 2016.

Introduction 

MacGregor, Neil. A Victim of Anonymity: The Master of the Saint Bartholomew Altarpiece. New York: Thames and Hudson, 1994. Möhle Valerie. ‘Vielfalt – Argumentation – Gleichnis: Das Flügelretabel in St. Jacobi als Bildsystem. In Das Hochaltarretabel der St. Jacobi-Kirche in Göttingen, edited by Bernd Carqué and Hedwig Röckelein, pp. 273–302. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2005. Möhring, Helmut. Die Tegernseer Altarretabel des Gabriel Angler und die Münchner Malerei von 1430–1450. Munich: Scaneg, 1997. Morris, Amy M. ‘Lucas Moser’s St. Magdalene Altarpiece: Solving the Riddle of the Sphinx’. Ph.D. dissertation, Indiana University, 2005. Pächt, Otto. ‘Zur deutschen Bildauffassung der Spätgotik und Renaissance’. In Methodisches zur kunsthistorischen Praxis: Ausgewählte Schriften, edited by Jörg Oberhaidacher, Artur Rosenauer, and Gertraut Schikola, pp. 107–120. Munich: Prestel-Verlag, 1977. Panofsky, Erwin. Early Netherlandish Painting: Its Origins and Character. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1953. Petropoulos, Jonathan. The Faustian Bargain: The Art World in Nazi Germany. New York: Oxford University Press, 2000. Pieper, Paul. ‘Köln und Westfalen in der Zeit nach 1400’. In Vor Stefan Lochner: Der Kölner Maler von 1300–1430, Ergebnisse der Ausstellung und des Colloquiums, edited by Gerhard Bott and Frank Günter Zehnder, pp. 40–45. Cologne: Wallraf-Richartz Museum, 1977. Preiss, Bettina. ‘Eine Wissenschaft wird zur Dienstleistung: Kunstgeschichte im Nationalsozialismus’. In Kunst auf Befehl? Dreiunddreissig bis Fünfundvierzig, edited by Bazon Brock and Achim Preiss, pp. 41–58. Munich: Klinkhardt & Biermann, 1990. Prinz, Felix. Gemalte Skulpturenretabel: Zur Intermedialität mitteleuropäischer Tafelmalerei des 15. Jahrhunderts. Berlin: De Gruyter, 2018. Rimmele, Marius. ‘Transparenze, variable Konstellationen, gefaltete Welten: Systematisierende Überlegungen zur medienspezifischen Gestaltung von dreiteiligen Klappbildern’. In Klappeffekte: Faltbare Bildträger in der Vormoderne, edited by David Ganz and Marius Rimmele, pp. 13-54. Berlin: Dietrich Reimer, 2016. Sander, Jochen, ed. Schaufenster des Himmels: Der Altenberger Altar und seine Bildausstattung/Heaven on Display: The Altenberg Altar and its Imagery. Berlin: Deutscher Kunstverlag, 2016. Schälicke, Bernd, ed. Drei Tafeln des Peter- und Paul-Altars aus der Lamberti-Kirche in der Neustadt von Hildesheim. Berlin: Kulturstiftung der Länder, 2000. Schlie, Heike. ‘Martyrium im Bildvollzug: Dieric Bouts’ Hippolytus-Triptychon in Brügge, das Hippolytus-Triptychon in Boston und ein Gebet Jean Molinets im Auftrag von Hippolyte de Berthoz’. In Klappeffekte: Faltbare Bildträger in der Vormoderne, edited by David Ganz and Marius Rimmele, pp. 233–255. Berlin: Dietrich Reimer, 2016. Schütte, Ulrich, Hubert Locher, Klaus Niehr, Jochen Sander, and Xenis Stolzenburg, eds. Mittelalterliche Retabel in Hessen. Petersburg: Michael Imhof, 2015.

41

42 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Snyder, James. Northern Renaissance Art: Painting, Sculpture, the Graphic Arts from 1350 to 1575. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice Hall, 1985; 2nd ed., revised by Larry Silver and Henry Luttikhuizen, 2005. Stange, Alfred. Deutsche Malerei der Gotik. Berlin: Deutscher Kunstverlag: 1934–1961. Suckale, Robert. ‘Wilhelm Pinder und die deutsche Kunstwissenschaft nach 1945’. Kritische Berichte 14, no. 4 (1986), pp. 5–17. Suckale, Robert. Die Erneuerung der Malkunst vor Dürer. Petersberg: Michael Imhof, 2009. Vor Stefan Lochner: Die kölner Maler von 1300 bis 1430. Cologne: Wallraf-Richartz Museum, 1974. Wiemann, Elsbeth. Hans Holbein d. Ä: Die Graue Passion in ihrer Zeit. Stuttgart: Staatsgalerie, 2010. Zehnder, Frank Günter. Katalog der altkölner Malerei: Kataloge des Wallraf-RichartzMuseums XI. Cologne: Stadt Köln, 1990.

1.

Framed Boundaries: Conrad von Soest and Early Fifteenth-Century Westphalian Triptychs Abstract This chapter focuses on the Niederwildungen Altarpiece of 1403, in which Conrad von Soest created multiple painted frames as well as pastiglia relief frames around the narrative scenes on the interior of his triptych—and then at various places crossed those boundaries, cutting the pastiglia to allow a part of a scene to invade its neighbour. In this work, and other works by Conrad, these transgressions of the boundaries create closer visual connections and bring out new facets of meaning. Such blurred boundaries, which may be grounded on Westphalian precedents, remain key elements in altarpieces produced by Conrad’s Westphalian followers, as well as in works produced under Westphalian influence in Lower Saxony. Keywords: Conrad von Soest, Niederwildungen Altarpiece, pastiglia, Berswordt Master, Warendorf Master

In 1403, Conrad von Soest painted an altarpiece for the city church in the town of Niederwildungen (Fig. 1.1). The work remains in that same church (now the Evangelische Stadtkirche of the renamed town of Bad Wildungen). The interior of Conrad’s Niederwildungen Altarpiece follows a format that was extremely common within Westphalian triptychs of the late fourteenth and fifteenth centuries.1 In order to incorporate more narrative events, each of the three panels of the triptych is subdivided into separate cells, four equal-sized ones on each wing and five in the centre, with two vertically stacked cells at each side of a much larger central Crucifixion scene. Virtually the same structure is found in two Westphalian works produced in 1 Conrad’s altarpiece is often referred to in the older German literature as ‘der Wildunger Altar’, but more recently the altarpiece has been called the Niederwildungen Altarpiece, using the older name of the city. Given that this name is in common usage, I will retain this name despite the fact that the town in which the altarpiece is located is no longer called Niederwildungen, but Bad Wildungen.

Jacobs, L.F. The Painted Triptychs of Fifteenth-Century Germany: Case Studies of Blurred Boundaries. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2022 doi 10.5117/9789463725408_ch01

44 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 1.1. Conrad von Soest, Niederwildungen Altarpiece, interior, 1403, Stadtkirche, Bad Wildungen (Photo: ©Bildarchiv Foto Marburg/Art Resource, NY/Photo: Thomas Scheidt, 2011).

the second half of the fourteenth century—probably in the same workshop2—the Osnabrück Altarpiece (Fig. 1.2) and the Netze Altarpiece (Fig. 1.3).3 This format is not limited to the Westphalian region: the Lower Saxon, early fifteenth-century Göttinger Barfüßeraltar has a very similar structure, though it has three registers as opposed to the two registers of the Niederwildungen Altarpiece—as does the Cologne Kirchsahr Altarpiece of 1401–1425 (Fig. 3.2).4 Indeed, the tendency to subdivide the interior into multiple narrative fields, rather than showing one scene in each panel, is one of the key features that distinguished painted triptychs from Germanic regions from their Netherlandish counterparts, especially in the earlier part of the fifteenth century.5 Still, the specific structure of the divided format of the Niederwildungen Altarpiece—one that Wolfgang Pilz classified as ‘Felderung unter Betonung eines Mittelkerns’ (spanning with emphasis on the central core) in his morphology of German triptychs—seems to have been especially popular within the Westphalian region in particular. 2 Stange, Deutsche Malerei, vol. 2, pp. 124–128. 3 Pilz, Triptychon, pp. 46–49 and pp. 278–279, cat. 12, 13. On the Netze Altarpiece, see also, Hengelhaupt, ‘Netzer Altar’. This triptych format remained in use throughout the fifteenth century in other Westphalian examples, such as the Passion Altarpiece in Frankfurt Cathedral (c. 1470, which has a slightly different inverted T-shaped profile) and the Soest Holy Kinship Altarpiece (1473). On these two works, see Pilz, Triptychon, pp. 59–60 and pp. 281–282, cat. 31, 32. 4 Pilz, Triptychon, pp. 49–50 and p. 280, cat. 23. 5 However, some Netherlandish works around 1400 do have internal subdivisions, as is evident in several triptychs included in Kemperdick and Lammertse, Road to Van Eyck, notably the Norfolk Triptych, pp. 185–187 (to be discussed below and illustrated in Fig. 1.28), the Triptych of the Crucifixion with Saints Anthony, Christopher, James, and George in Chicago, pp. 226–228, a Crucifixion Triptych in Madrid, p. 230 and p. 232, and a Crucifixion Triptych in Schwerin, pp. 230–233. Later triptychs with two registers in the wings are considered in Jacobs, Opening Doors, pp. 131–133 and p. 137. Nevertheless, Netherlandish painted triptychs almost never are divided up to create as many different compartments as in German painted triptychs like the Niederwildungen Altarpiece. Multiple compartments, however, are found commonly within Netherlandish sculpted altarpieces, as considered in Jacobs, Early Netherlandish Carved Altarpieces.

Fr amed Boundaries

Fig. 1.2. Master of the Netze Altarpiece (?), Osnabrück Altarpiece, c. 1370–1380, Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_c014473).

Fig. 1.3. Master of the Netze Altarpiece, Netze Altarpiece, c. 1360, Pfarrkirche, Netz (Photo: Thomas Scheidt, 2009/Art Resource).

In triptychs with this format, the boundaries between the narrative cells on each panel are created by painted frames. In the Osnabrück Altarpiece (Fig. 1.2), for example, these frames are brown in colour with stamped floral decoration; the Netze Altarpiece (Fig. 1.3) has frames that are tooled gold. The framing elements in the Niederwildungen Altarpiece, however, are more complex and much less uniform, indeed far more sophisticated than the frames of earlier Westphalian altarpieces, as Brigitte Corley has noted.6 In Conrad von Soest’s Niederwildungen Altarpiece, each of the altarpiece’s three panels is surrounded by a frame with an interior bevelled edge. The frame’s top, flat surface is painted red and decorated with rosettes, crescent moons, and stars; such stars and crescent moons are found in the coat of arms of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem, which is thought to be either the sole or one of the patrons of the altarpiece.7 From this top red surface, the frame slants downward toward the painted panels in a section that 6 Corley, Conrad, p. 121. 7 Wöllenstein, Von Angesicht, p. 10. Engelbert, Conrad, p. 83, also discusses the likelihood that the Order of St. John was the patron of this altarpiece, but there is no specific documentation or evidence proving who commissioned the work.

45

46 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

is painted green with a stencilled flower design.8 In addition to the actual frame around the entire perimeter of each panel, there are black painted strips decorated with flowers that surround each individual scene. These are painted on the flat surfaces of the panels themselves (not on the frames placed over them). These black painted strips fully enclose each of the scenes, except for those on the bottom tier, where no black strips appear at the base of each scene. Hence at the bottom, unlike at the top, the green sloping side of the actual three-dimensional frame abuts whatever appears in the ground plane of each scene, rather than a pictorially created black strip. There is one additional framing element used to separate the scenes on this altarpiece’s interior. This is created by pastiglia relief strips of different lengths made of a white chalk material, which were cast in a wooden mould into a rope-like shape that is unique among pastiglia decoration found in German painting.9 These pieces of rope-shaped pastiglia were aff ixed to the panel with animal glue and then oil gilded. Together with the red outer frame, the green sloping frame, and the black painted strip, the relief rope pastiglia forms the final distinctive element of a remarkably elaborate framing system that surrounds each of the three panels of the triptych and each of the individual scenes within the altarpiece. Yet even though Conrad von Soest carefully framed all the panels and scenes within this complex altarpiece, in multiple places he allowed the pictorial imagery to transgress the very boundaries he had so carefully established. Thus, for example, in the Presentation in the Temple on the lower left panel (Fig. 1.4), the robe of the woman in red at the left extends diagonally down toward the Adoration of the Magi scene at her left. As it does, it gradually covers up the black strip at the edge of the Presentation scene; at the floor level, the robe almost touches the foot of the Magus in that neighbouring scene. At the point where the robe starts to cross into the black framing strip, the inner pastiglia rope strip ends with a diagonal cut that allows the line of the robe to be painted on the flat surface below the cut, in the area where that relief strip would have blocked it had that cut not been made. The pastiglia strip on the outside of the Adoration of the Magi scene, however, remains intact all the way to the bottom and provides the only separation between the Magus’s foot and the woman’s robe. This, along with the other transgressions of the border in this altarpiece (to be discussed below), was no accident or later change of plan. All crossings of the 8 Engelbert, Conrad, p. 83, sees the slanting green frame as preparing the viewer for entry into the image space. 9 For information about the pastiglia forms on the Niederwildungen Altarpiece I am indebted to Peter Weller-Plate, who was responsible for the 1993–1996 restoration of this altarpiece and kindly shared his knowledge of this altarpiece with me.

Fr amed Boundaries

Fig. 1.4. Conrad von Soest, Niederwildungen Altarpiece, detail of sections of the Presentation and the Adoration of the Magi, 1403, Stadtkirche, Bad Wildungen (Photo: Author).

borders would have had to have been planned from the start, since the frame was attached to the panel and the pastiglia was applied to the panels before the scenes themselves were painted.10 So Conrad had to know in advance where he needed to leave off the pastiglia, how long each pastiglia strip needed to be—and in places where the strip would not extend to the bottom of the scene, whether it needed 10 Peter Weller-Plate was able to confirm this chronology of the work process for me.

47

48 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

to end in a diagonal or horizontal cut given what was to be painted below it. In addition, Conrad needed to know when he began his work where not to paint the black framing strips, and how much of it needed to be left off at which particular spots in the composition. This sort of overlap of the boundary is not unprecedented. The painted wings of the Altenberg Altarpiece (Frankfurt, Städel Museum)—a work produced in Hesse c. 1330, with painted wings by a Middle Rhenish artist—have a number of elements that overlap the frames around the scenes on all sides, including banderols, angels, and demons, as well as the nimbuses of the apostles present at the death of the Virgin.11 Very frequently, fourteenth-century German and Bohemian paintings interrupt the punchwork that frames their scenes. As with the pastiglia decoration, the gold leaf and punchwork would have been applied to the panel prior to the application of colours, and the areas to be painted would have been reserved at this time. This allowed parts of the scene, especially the robes of the figures, to extend outside the punchwork boundary, as is evident in a Crucifixion Triptych from Cologne in the Hamburg Kunsthalle,12 and the Zbraslav Madonna in the National Gallery in Prague.13 Indeed, the idea of depicting figures that expand beyond the boundaries of a decorative punchwork border is quite frequent throughout International Gothic panel paintings from a wide variety of regions. This structure also appears in Italian works, such as a Bolognese late fourteenth-century Triptych of the Arma Christi in the Walters, in which most of the figures overlap the punchwork at the top and sides, including God the Father in the central panel.14 Other examples of International Gothic art violate margins in a somewhat different way: they portray figures situated not within a punchwork border but within an architectural framework—executed pictorially, rather than in reality—whose edges are then transgressed. This structure appears on the exterior of a 1330 reliquary altarpiece in Cologne where the robes of St. Barbara (on the right) flow in front of the trefoil arch painted around her.15 The practice of violating boundaries appears within Westphalian fourteenthcentury panel painting as well. For example, in the panel of Mary as Throne of Solomon from Wormeln (Fig. 1.5), likely a Westphalian work produced after 1360, f igures stand within clearly established compartments set within an architectural structure, but their banderols cross over these boundaries on 11 On this work, see Sander, Schaufenster des Himmels. 12 Stange, Deutsche Malerei, vol. 1, plate 39. 13 On this work, see Chlumská, Bohemia and Central Europe, p. 24. 14 On this work, see Miner, International Style, pp. 6–7. 15 Zehnder, Altkölner Malerei, pp. 94–98.

Fr amed Boundaries

Fig. 1.5. Westphalian Master (?), Mary as the Throne of Solomon (Wormeln Altarpiece), c. 1370–1380, Gemäldegalerie, Staatliche Museen, Berlin (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Gemäldegalerie, Staatliche Museen, Berlin/Jörg P. Anders/Art Resource, NY).

all sides, as do some of the f igures’ hands, feet, and bodies.16 In the Niederwildungen Altarpiece and many of his other works, Conrad von Soest builds on this International Gothic tradition to make the practice of creating frames and then transgressing these boundaries a particularly important formal element. Moreover, he repeatedly exploits the possibilities for blurring boundaries to generate critical thematic connections and meanings within his works. Indeed, the tension between the creation of and the violation of the boundary was so central to Conrad’s art that it influenced his followers and became important features in the Westphalian triptychs of Darup, Warendorf, and Isselhorst. By contrast, the painter/sculptor from Westphalia, Master Bertram, retained the boundaries between scenes in a now separated, but originally double-winged altarpiece from the Petrikirche in Hamburg of 1379–1383.17 This altarpiece— which has a sculpted interior consisting of a Crucifixion flanked by two rows of standing saints, prophets, and Apostles—presents, on its painted first opening,

16 On this work, see Kemperdick, Deutsche und böhmische Gemälde, pp. 98–109, with the arguments for a Westphalian localization treated mainly on pp. 104–108. Similarly, in the fourteenth-century wings from Merxhausen (Kassel, Hessisches Landesmuseum), produced in Westphalia, the banderols held by the standing male and female figures also loop around in complete independence of the architectural boundaries around the figures. On this work, see Pieper, Westfälische Malerei, pp. 37–41. 17 On the date of this work, see Hauschild, Meister Bertram, pp. 14–16.

49

50 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 1.6. Master Bertram, Creation scenes, from the Altarpiece from the Petrikirche, Hamburg, first opening, left wing, 1379–1383, Kunsthalle, Hamburg (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Kunsthalle, Hamburg/ Elke Walford/Art Resource, NY).

24 scenes from the Old Testament and Infancy of Christ.18 Each of the painted scenes, as seen here in illustration of the left wing (Fig. 1.6), is surrounded by golden frames, edged with punchwork and decorated with raised gesso that takes on several shapes: blue and red oval pseudo-gems surrounded by gilded frames, gilded S-scrolls, and red, blue, and gold bead-like forms.19 These frames 18 The images on the outside of the closed wings are lost, so the contents of the exterior view are not known. Platte, Meister Bertram, p. 8, suggests that it depicted the patron saints of the church, Peter and Paul. 19 Gmelin, ‘Bertram’, notes that such frames are unknown in Germany and links this type of frame to Bohemian models.

Fr amed Boundaries

maintain a consistent separation between all the pictorial depictions, so that the boundaries in Meister Bertram’s Hamburg altarpiece, although they incorporate a relief element like that at Niederwildungen, work quite differently from those of Conrad von Soest. The role of boundaries in Conrad von Soest’s triptychs has attracted limited attention in the scholarship. In 1946, Kurt Steinbart briefly addressed Conrad’s treatment of some of the boundaries in the Niederwildungen Altarpiece, specifically the overlap of boundary by the woman in the Presentation scene (previously discussed) and by Christ’s mandorla in the Ascension. Steinbart brought up these points mainly in arguing for the importance of the figure in Conrad’s art; he did, however, interpret the placement of the ascending Christ over the dividing strips as an elevation of the heavenly and as a metaphor of eternity.20 More recently, Arthur Engelbert’s 1995 monograph on Conrad, the only work to devote any real attention to Conrad’s use of the frame, considered the interruption of the frame in the Niederwildungen Altarpiece’s Ascension and Agony in the Garden scenes, giving some attention to the question of meaning. Thus, for example, Engelbert recognized how the interruption of the frame in the Ascension (in a somewhat less symbolic interpretation than Steinbart’s) emphasized the sense of upward movement. 21 But the transgressions of the boundaries within Conrad’s work deserve much fuller attention as demonstrations of how blurred boundaries can contribute to the visual power and meanings of the triptych. Within the works of Conrad von Soest and his Westphalian followers (as well as other artists in other regions who were influenced by them), the border becomes a key way in which artists bring their figures to life, engage their figures more closely with the viewer, emphasize relations between different events, and distinguish levels of sanctity. In many of these early fifteenth-century works, the frames around the scenes are not simply pedestrian ways that Westphalian artists (and artists from other Germanic regions) created an obsessive number of scenes within narrative cycles. These same frames served as powerful and important tools—indeed potentially sophisticated ones—with which the triptych exploited their Medialität, that is, leveraged their format to influence how their images could address their audiences and communicate meanings.

20 Steinbart, Konrad, pp. 16–17. 21 Engelbert, Conrad, p. 66 and p. 84; in discussing the Ascension, Engelbert also notes that the figures at the right side also interrupt the border, but he see this interruption as less important—something that, while true to some extent, ignores the role that all these interruptions have on the visual character and meaning of the scenes. Engelbert does not propose many other interpretations of the role of the interruptions of the frame in this altarpiece, though he does consider the role of the frame more generally in asserting a divine order.

51

52 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Blurred Boundaries in the Niederwildungen Altarpiece The Niederwildungen Altarpiece (Fig. 1.1) depicts an Infancy and Passion cycle. The Infancy cycle is limited to the four scenes in the left wing—which read chronologically left to right, top to bottom—to depict the Annunciation, Nativity, Adoration of the Magi, and Presentation in the Temple. The rest of the triptych (its centre and right wing) is devoted to the Passion and events after the death of Christ. Here the chronological relations are somewhat odd: the central Crucifixion scene is essentially lifted out of the narrative sequence, while the top row of the central and right panels shows events of the Passion, arranged chronologically from left to right—skipping over the Crucifixion, which comes after the scenes of the Last Supper, Agony in the Garden, Christ Before Pilate, and the Mocking of Christ. The bottom row of the central and right panels shows scenes that occur after the Crucifixion, with the central panel’s Resurrection and Ascension scenes flanking the Crucifixion (which interrupts the cycle on the bottom tier, just as it did at the top); the post-Crucifixion narrative continues in the bottom tier of the right wing, which depicts the Pentecost and the Last Judgement. Some of these scenes respect the frames around them, but others do not. There is thought and meaning behind these choices. In the left panel (Fig. 1.7), the upper scenes do not intrude onto the frame. Indeed, a number of elements appear to run behind the frame, such as Gabriel’s robe, the bench behind Joseph, and the lower part of the Virgin’s bed. In the Annunciation, a few key elements abut, but do not overlap the black strip, such as the curtain at the left and Gabriel’s wings. But at the bottom of this wing, more things push against and over the frame. In the Adoration of the Magi, the kneeling king’s foot presses against the edge of the frame, extruding over the thin vertical pillar of the architecture at the right side and coming up beside the pastiglia rope at the edge of the scene; the Magus’s foot, however, does not extend past the rope-frame, so this border is respected. In the Presentation scene next to the Epiphany scene, as discussed above, the red robe of the woman with the turtle doves, Mary’s attendant, runs over the border, overlapping slightly at her shoulder and then increasingly covering the strip as the robe fans out toward the floor. Hence at the bottom, the black strip is no longer visible. At the point where the robe overlaps the black strip, the raised rope edging ends in a diagonal. These overlaps serve important formal as well as iconographic functions. First, they contribute to a tension between figures and space noted by Brigitte Corley: the f igures here dominate their space and seem too big for the architectural settings not just because of the lack of headroom between them and the ceilings under which they stand, but also because they push out of the scenes laterally.22 22 Corley, Conrad, p. 51.

Fr amed Boundaries

Fig. 1.7. Conrad von Soest, Niederwildungen Altarpiece, left wing, 1403, Stadtkirche, Bad Wildungen (Photo: ©Bildarchiv Foto Marburg/Art Resource, NY/Photo: Thomas Scheidt, 2011).

This tension between the figures and their architectural settings is not conjoined with any attempts to give the figures a strong plasticity;23 so the sense that the 23 Corley, Conrad, p. 51, notes that Conrad denies the plasticity of the figures despite allowing them to dominate space. Corley, Conrad, p. 138, associates the figure’s dominance of space in Conrad’s work with the influence of the Parement Master.

53

54 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

f igures press against their settings does not manifest the same concerns for creating bulky figures as do the figures spilling over their frames in works such as Master Theodoric’s panels from the Holy Cross Chapel in Karlštejn.24 But the tension between f igures and architecture that Conrad creates in part (though not in whole) through the overlapping of the boundary gives the figures a greater sense of presence and thereby allows the scene to more directly elicit viewer engagement. The overlap of the boundaries in these scenes also helps visually connect the Epiphany and Presentation scenes, because these overlaps help lead the viewer’s eye from the left to the right in the appropriate direction for the narrative chronology. This linkage between the scenes through the blurred boundaries resonates with other formal and thematic connections between these two moments of public recognition of the status of the newly born Christ child: these include the alignment of the architectural structures in the two scenes and the inclusion of lavish pressbrocade robes worn by the kneeling Magus of the Epiphany and the high priest of the Presentation. By contrast, the two earlier Infancy scenes above, the Annunciation and Nativity, have more humble home settings and simpler garb, emphasizing Christ’s humility, rather than his kingship and divinity, strongly emphasized in the Epiphany and Presentation below. The containment of the scenes of the Annunciation and Nativity within their boundaries—unlike the overlapping of boundaries between the Epiphany and Presentation—gives the opening scenes of the Infancy cycle a more private and intimate setting in contrast to the more public ones below. On the left wing’s Presentation scene, the overlapping of the red robe of the woman with the turtle doves works together with her placement just outside the arched entrance into the temple to situate her in a liminal space. Not only is she outside the holy sanctuary (and thereby, in opposition to the figures inside it, in a less sacred space), but also she is in an ambiguous space both inside and outside the painting. In this way, she serves as a mediating figure between the viewer and the holy imagery within the altarpiece. As a result, the kneeling Magus, whose foot almost touches hers, joins her in a liminal space, providing a model of devotion that is more directly connected to the viewer—all thanks to Conrad’s subtle manipulation of the boundaries. In the central panel (Fig. 1.8), the blurring of boundaries increases, because all five scenes on this panel contain elements that exceed the boundaries placed around them. In the Last Supper, the arched opening of the room where the meal takes place covers over the black strip at the top and at the left side. By occluding the black strip, the scene gains extra space compared to the scenes in the left panel, which (except for the Presentation in the Temple) all respect the black frame at the 24 For an illustration of some of these scenes, see Chlumská, Bohemia and Central Europe, pp. 32–33.

Fr amed Boundaries

Fig. 1.8. Conrad von Soest, Niederwildungen Altarpiece, centre panel, 1403, Stadtkirche, Bad Wildungen (Photo: © Bildarchiv Foto Marburg/Art Resource, NY).

left. But despite this, the space of the Last Supper seems too small, since the apostles at the left are cut off and all are crowded closely together. Hence the elimination of the black strip at the top and left ends up enhancing rather than decreasing the scene’s claustrophobic feeling. This claustrophobia increases the discomfort of seeing Jesus, John (Christ’s beloved apostle who lays his head on Christ’s breast), and Judas all compressed together in the centre of the panel. John clutches the arm with which Christ hands Judas the sop, creating an odd curve running from John’s hand through Christ’s arm to the wafer-like sop,25 which virtually touches Judas’s nose, thereby starting an opposing curve that runs through Judas’s beard to Judas’s right hand, which is placed on the table. Judas’s left hand—the hand that traditionally has negative associations26 —holds a fish. In a very unusual motif, Judas appears to be hiding the fish under the table, seemingly planning to steal it.27 The juxtaposition of two Eucharistic symbols, the host-like sop before 25 Fritz, Conrad: Wildunger Altar, p. 9, notes the host-like shape of the bread. 26 On this, see Hall, Sinister Side. 27 Fritz, Conrad: Wildunger Altar, p. 9, suggests that Judas is stealing the fish, but Steinbart, Konrad, p. 15, refers to Judas simply as hiding the fish under the table. Engelbert, Conrad, p. 50, like Steinbart, says Judas is hiding a fish under the table, with the added observation that this allows the viewer to discover his trickiness and greed. Wöllenstein, Von Angesicht, p. 58, simply considers the fish as a symbol of Christ.

55

56 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Judas’s mouth and the fish in Judas’s hands, is appropriate both to the nature of the scene (the Last Supper was the time of the institution of the Eucharist) and to the function of the work as an altarpiece (the art work that frames the celebration of the Eucharist at the altar table). But the depiction of Judas secreting the fish under the table suggests a wickedness beyond that indicated by his prominent money bag and ugly profile:28 it may even allude to the desecration of the Eucharist, possibly evoking anti-Semitic tropes of Jewish desecrations of consecrated Hosts.29 In the Last Supper, then, the claustrophobia created by the seeming expansion of the boundaries paradoxically creates an uneasy sense of the closeness of good and evil that contributes to the emotional power of the scene. A disturbing connection also is created here by Conrad’s depiction of Christ’s beloved John and his nemesis Judas both clad in similar yellowish-green robes (though Judas’s robe is a bit darker and has a pale-yellow robe below). Whether this was intended to raise the negative associations of yellow with cowardice and the Jews or just represented a coloristic preference of the master, the repeated use of this colour in this key section of the composition once again produces an odd parallel between moral opposites.30 This ambiguous opposition is also evident in the similar hair colour of John and Judas, but John’s hair has a blond cast, while Judas a reddish tone that has negative, as well as anti-Semitic associations.31 In the Agony in the Garden, at the right on the top tier, the upper black strip is interrupted at both corners. At the right, the strip is occluded by a blue heavenly cloud, from which emerges the hand of God the Father, holding the crucifix in a sign that Christ’s sacrifice is God’s will;32 and at the top left, the black boundary strip is blocked by a tree and by the torches and weapons of the soldiers gathering outside the garden preparing to arrest Christ. Here the overlap at the top communicates the presence of both divine and earthly forces that are impelling the imminent crucifixion of Christ. The power of these forces, pressing in on both sides of Christ at the time of his spiritual struggle, is underlined by violation of the boundary surrounding the scene. At the right lateral portion of the scene, the black strip is not interrupted, but eliminated. This creates a more open space

28 On imagery of Judas, see Mellinkoff, Outcasts, esp. pp. 216–217. 29 On Jews desecrating hosts, see Rubin, ‘Desecration of the Host’, and Rubin, Gentile Tales. 30 Mellinkoff, Outcasts, pp. 35–37 and pp. 45–46, discusses the symbolism of yellow; Corley, Conrad, p. 41, notes Conrad’s frequent use of lead-tin yellow despite its being an unpopular colour. 31 On Judas’s red hair, see Mellinkoff, Outcasts, pp. 150–154, which is part of a more general discussion of negative associations of red hair and associations of red hair with Jews treated in Mellinkoff, Outcasts, pp. 147–159. 32 On the imagery of the Agony in the Garden scene, see Schiller, Iconography, vol. 2, pp. 48–51.

Fr amed Boundaries

Fig. 1.9. Conrad von Soest, Niederwildungen Altarpiece, Ascension, 1403, Stadtkirche, Bad Wildungen (Photo: © Bildarchiv Foto Marburg/Art Resource, NY/Photo: Thomas Scheidt, 2011).

57

58 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

in front of Christ that contrasts with the crowded, closed space behind him, a space that harbours the Roman soldiers and hence represents the inescapability of Christ’s fate. On the lower tier of the central panel (Fig. 1.8), the upper black strip is interrupted in both scenes: by Christ’s halo in the Resurrection and by Christ’s mandorla in the Ascension. In the Resurrection, the halo only slightly overlaps the upper strip, thereby suggesting the beginning of Christ’s rise out of the grave. By contrast, in the Ascension scene (Fig. 1.9), the blue cloud that forms a mandorla around Christ fully blocks the whole strip in the centre and even intrudes into the Agony in the Garden above (requiring the elimination of the pastiglia rope divider at both the top of the Ascension and the bottom of the Agony in the Garden). This links the Agony in the Garden and the Ascension scenes formally and iconographically. Both scenes feature a heavenly cloud and a crucifix, but in the Ascension, Christ has now accepted the crucif ix held out to him in the Garden scene directly above; and now the ascending Christ is surrounded by the heavenly blue cloud that appeared before him behind the hand of the Father in the Agony in the Garden scene. In this way, the blurring of the boundary between the Agony in the Garden and the Ascension created when the ascending Christ intrudes into the scene above emphasizes the triumphant result of Christ’s victory over the doubt he experienced in the garden—and the victory that was won when Christ accepted his crucifixion. Indeed, in the Ascension, Christ wears a red robe (linked visually to the red robe of the disciple he almost bumps into as he rises), which differs from the whitish robe he wears in the garden. This reference to the colour of blood may signal the salvific role of Christ’s shedding of blood through his acceptance of sacrificial death on the cross. In the Ascension, a small part of the black strip appears at the top right, which is overlapped farther down by the figures of the apostles and their halos. This right-hand strip also highlights the divide between heaven and earth, for it frames the upper area of the scene, but not the lower area. Since this scene represents the moment when Christ leaves earth for the last time before the Second Coming, the framing elements—present in some places, absent in others, in front of the apostles at the left and partly behind them at the right—complement the liminality of Christ as he rises, still betwixt and between earth and heaven. The large central Crucifixion scene (Fig. 1.8) also has boundaries that are blurred. The rainbow surrounding the scene in the form of an arch completely covers the black strip at the top centre. The colours of the rainbow—red, green, and yellow—relate to the outer red frame, the bevelled green edge, and the yellow roping, associating it with the major framing elements of the altarpiece. At some points, closer to the centre of the panel, clouds fully cover the upper black framing strip, but at other points, closer to the sides, they only partially cover it. The pastiglia

Fr amed Boundaries

rope decoration is interrupted where the clouds intrude into the top of the black strip. The banderols of the prophets also require elimination of the pastiglia relief in the areas where they overlap parts of the upper black painted strip as they curl about in the air. The illusionistic curling of the banderols gives the impression that these elements—which are predictions from the past that were realized with Christ’s crucifixion33—actually project into real space. This gives the banderols an ambiguity (a quality associated with the liminal) that is highly appropriate given the liminal status of prophets and prophesy.34 These banderols overlap not only the enframing black strip, but also some parts of the rainbow and the clouds, thereby communicating the way in which prophesy crosses boundaries of time and place, and the way in which the prophets stand betwixt and between past and present, sub legem and post legem.35 In the right wing (Fig. 1.10), the boundaries are less blurred, but nevertheless have some impact on the scenes. On the lower tier, the Pentecost and the Last Judgement stay within their established boundaries, and the black strips at the top and side remain fully in view. On the top tier, however, the boundaries on the outer edges are visible only in part, with only small segments of the black strips at the outer edges visible at the left of Christ Before Pilate and at the right of the Mocking of Christ. The presence of small pieces of the boundary, even when it would have been simple to fully eliminate them, makes the architectural spaces of Christ’s arrest and mocking seem more threatening and increases the sense of the intimidation and brutalizing of Christ. Hence the figure in red and green at the right of the Mocking scene, who sticks out his tongue and raises his arm, seems particularly threatening because his body overlaps the building that overlaps the border strip that should have been there, but is not. The exterior of Conrad von Soest’s Niederwildungen Altarpiece (Fig. 1.11) also includes some play with boundaries, but in a different way. This exterior, which depicts four standing saints, does not have any internal divisions and is bounded only by the affixed frame, painted red with gilded inscriptions on the bottom, which, 33 See Corley, Conrad, p. 185, who notes that the prophet at the left bears a scroll saying ‘morte propria mortus justificabat et morte vita permanebit’, and the scroll of the prophet on the right says, ‘ecce quo[…] moritur monstratur (?) et nemo percipit corde’. 34 Corley, Conrad, p. 51, claims that all elements are contained by outer frame, but this is not really the case here. 35 There is a triangle of overlaps of the boundaries in the centres of the Crucif ixion, Resurrection, and Ascension in the centre panel, which links the sorrows of the Crucifixion scene to the more joyful moments in future time. Similarly, the blue clouds in the centre of the Crucifixion relate to the clouds emanating from God the Father in the Agony in the Garden and to the cloud mandorla surrounding Christ as he rises to heaven in the Ascension. These parallels inject references to heaven and to divinity into the Crucifixion, the moment when Christ’s humanity comes to an end.

59

60 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 1.10. Conrad von Soest, Niederwildungen Altarpiece, right wing, 1403, Stadtkirche, Bad Wildungen (Photo: © Bildarchiv Foto Marburg/Art Resource, NY/Photo: Thomas Scheidt, 2011).

Fr amed Boundaries

Fig. 1.11. Conrad von Soest, Niederwildungen Altarpiece, exterior, 1403, Stadtkirche, Bad Wildungen. (Photo: © Bildarchiv Foto Marburg/Art Resource, NY/Photo: Thomas Scheidt, 2011).

like that on the interior, has an inner bevelled edge painted green.36 Unlike the inner frame, though, this outer one, aside from the inscriptions, has no additional decorative elements. While none of the standing saints intrude on the frame (and indeed Catherine’s wheel disappears behind it), to some degree Conrad here blurs another boundary, that between the picture plane and the space in front of it. This is accomplished by the Escher-like protrusion and recession of the ground line on which the saints stand. It seems as if the saints are standing on pedestals, since the architecture forms a projecting support under their feet. But in fact, they are standing on a stage-like form that zig-zags forward and back, giving the impression that the section that appears to be farther back represents the picture plane, and the part that appears to be farther forward projects out of the picture plane into real space. Here the blurring of the boundaries is not occurring at the sides or top but rather in front and in back, that is, between represented space and real space. This issue will be considered more fully in Chapter Four.

36 The colours here are a bit browner than that on the interior, but this is likely to be due to condition, since the exteriors of altarpieces were more exposed and typically suffer more deterioration than their interiors.

61

62 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Blurred Boundaries in Other Works by Conrad von Soest The oeuvre of Conrad von Soest is rather limited, with few works firmly attributed to his hand. Nevertheless, the blurred boundaries seen in Conrad’s Niederwildungen Altarpiece, his first known work, appear to have been a frequent element within his paintings. A similar treatment of the boundaries appears in Conrad’s two panels in Münster, which depict Sts. Dorothy and Odilia (Fig. 1.12). These panels originally probably served as wings of a triptych that functioned as an altarpiece, with images on the outside added around 1460–1480.37 Both of these panels construct extra boundaries around the f igures and then violate them. Each depicts a vaulted baldachin above each saint, with a thin, pink-coloured architectural support running down each side of the panel all the way to the ground. In addition, the entire panel has a green border outlined in black at its outer edge, which originally would have been surrounded by a narrow frame.38 In these panels, as in the Niederwildungen Altarpiece (Fig. 1.1), Conrad established multiple boundaries around the figures and then proceeded to overlap the boundaries. In the left panel, Dorothy’s robe edges up against the pink boundary at the right and intrudes farther into it at the left; her basket also edges over the pink, with an almost invisible, small transparent cloth at the side of the basket actually covering most of the pink border at the left. In the right panel, Odilia’s robe is even more intrusive on the left side, overlapping both the pink support and most of the green margin, abutting the black line around its outer edge.39 On the right side, Odilia’s robe seems to overlap the pink strip, though the pigment appears to have become more transparent in this section. In both panels, some of the sprigs of foliage intrude into the pink and sometimes even the green frames around the figures. The impact of the overlap in these panels (as in some of the scenes in the Niederwildungen Altarpiece) is to give the saints on these narrow panels a great sense of presence and immediacy—if not plasticity and bulk. But in this work there is an extra spatial twist created by the ambiguity of the figures’ placement in relation to the frame: at the top, it appears that the figures are under the pink baldachin and hence behind the picture plane, but in the lower sections they appear to project in front of the frame due to the overlap of the basket and the robes. Indeed, the 37 Köllermann and Unsinn, Zeitenwende 1400, p. 99, notes the burn marks on the exterior as signs of usage as an altarpiece with candles in front, thereby supporting Pieper, Deutschen, niederländischen und italienischen Tafelbilder, pp. 40–43, who proposes that these were wings of a small altarpiece, unlike Corley, Conrad, p. 206, who disputes this, arguing that the lack of exterior frame and other evidence suggests these were doors of a tabernacle. 38 Pieper, Deutschen, niederländischen und italienischen Tafelbilder, pp. 40–42, discusses the green frame as original as well as the narrowness of the original frame. 39 Corley, Conrad, p. 205, notes the overlapping of the painted frame here.

Fr amed Boundaries

Fig. 1.12. Conrad von Soest, Sts. Dorothy and Odilia, c. 1410–1420, LWL-Museum für Kunst und Kultur, West­fälisches Landesmuseum, , Münster (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Landesmuseum für Kunst und Kulturgeschichte, Münster/Hanna Neander and Sabine Ahlbrand-Dornseif/Art Resource, NY).

63

64 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 1.13. Conrad von Soest, Dortmund Altarpiece, c. 1420, Marienkirche, Dortmund (Photo: Werner Otto/ Alamy Stock Photo).

frames increase the spatial ambiguities here insofar as the two tones of the pink frame read in three different ways: as three-dimensional forms in the context of the baldachin at the top; as two-dimensional strips at the sides of the scene; and, finally, at the bottom, once again as three-dimensional, this time as bases of a pilaster. The three-dimensional quality of the bottom section of the panel is enhanced by the addition of the lighter green strip above the lower green strip (not seen elsewhere on the panel), which allows the green strip to take on the look of an actual frame with the lighter section forming its bevelled edge. This ambiguity of space situates Dorothy and Odilia in liminal space, a place well suited to saints, who stand as medial between the human and the divine. In this work they seem to come out of the picture toward the real world of the viewer and hence become more accessible to them. In this way, the saints become a more welcoming vehicle for the transmission of prayers to the Virgin, who, if placed in the centre as many think, would have appeared more distanced by contrast. Unfortunately Conrad’s other main altarpiece, the Dortmund Altarpiece (Fig. 1.13), has been severely cut down to fit into a Baroque frame, so the exact nature of the treatment of the boundaries here cannot be known.40 However, enough remains to suggest that Conrad to some degree handled the boundaries in similar ways to the 40 On this work, see especially Geisberg, ‘Altar der Marienkirche’; Fritz, Conrad: Dortmunder Marienaltar; and Corley, Conrad, pp. 195–203.

Fr amed Boundaries

Niederwildungen Altarpiece and the Münster panels. The Dortmund Altarpiece has a Marian theme, with the Nativity appearing at the left. This scene was cut down at the right, but its left edge boasts a thin gold strip with punchwork decoration—just inside the current, non-original frame—running both vertically and horizontally at the left corner. Whether the original frame added additional boundaries like the frame of the Niederwildungen Altarpiece cannot be determined. As discussed above, punchwork margins are quite common in late fourteenth-century panel painting both in Northern and Southern Europe, but Conrad’s margins here (as elsewhere) seem more complex than normal: they include dark areas of decorative design (which unfortunately were largely cut off). This makes the borders more substantive than those in the Bohemian and Italian examples discussed above. Hence the Dortmund Altarpiece originally seems to have had a substantive inner border, analogous to the black strip in the Niederwildungen Altarpiece (Fig. 1.1). And as in the Niederwildungen Altarpiece, the border at Dortmund was overlapped in several places: at the left side, by the red aureole around the Virgin and her bed, and at the top by the blue cloud filled with angels. The strip does reappear just to the right of the clouds, and likely continued across the original upper edge of the panel, perhaps interrupted by the stable, if the reconstructions by Max Geisberg and Rolf Fritz are accurate.41 The more extreme cutting-down of the central scene in the Dortmund Triptych, the Death of the Virgin (which was cut to form a lunette shape), seems to have removed any edging strips that might have once surrounded this scene. But one might be justified in surmising that here too a blue aureole from heaven, surviving in part at the top of the present panel, would have overlapped any border, as in the left panel. Indeed the right panel, which portrays the Epiphany, includes part of that strip in its right corner (though not at the left side, the part that was cut down). In the Epiphany scene, the heavenly apparition overlaps the remaining part of the strip; this strip is also blocked at the right by the Magus in red. The Epiphany preserves more of the original border than the other two scenes, so here one can see best that the border originally contained black (or dark blue) decorative elements that would have brought this boundary closer to the visual character of the black strip in the Niederwildungen Altarpiece (Fig. 1.1) than it might currently appear. The Dortmund Altarpiece, Conrad’s last surviving work, shows a shift toward more monumental figures and fewer architectural elements.42 It also shows a reduction in the number of scenes, with only one scene per panel, unlike the multi-scene panels of the Niederwildungen Altarpiece. Whereas in the Niederwildungen Altarpiece, the black strips were needed to separate different scenes on the same panel, the Dortmund Altarpiece had no need to create internal boundaries on each panel. But Conrad did 41 The two reconstructions are both illustrated in Corley, Conrad, p. 196. 42 Corley, Conrad, p. 55.

65

66 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 1.14. Conrad von Soest, c. 1404, St. Paul, Alte Pinakothek, Munich (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/ Alte Pinakothek, Munich/Art Resource, NY).

Fig. 1.15. St. Reinold, reverse of St. Paul panel, c. 1404, Alte Pinakothek, Munich (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/ Alte Pinakothek, Munich/Art Resource, NY).

Fr amed Boundaries

this anyway. Certainly this choice was motivated in part by formal concerns: the intrusion over the boundaries at the sides, in this work, enhanced the monumentality of the figures and even, to some degree, the plasticity of the figures, which Conrad sought at this later point in his stylistic development. But in addition, Conrad seems to have been sensitive to the iconographic implications here. The intrusions over the boundaries at the top of the Marian scenes allowed him to communicate the crossing of boundaries between heaven and earth that occurred when a human mother became the mother of God. Hence the treatment of the boundaries within the Dortmund Altarpiece provides meanings that complement and amplify the liturgical functions served by this altarpiece, which was produced for, and still stands, on the high altar of a church dedicated to the Virgin Mary, Dortmund’s Marienkirche. One other panel, the Munich St. Paul (Fig. 1.14) is generally considered to be by Conrad von Soest.43 This panel’s front, which depicts St. Paul, has an inner tooled-gold boundary inside the inner bevelled edge of a gilded frame, which creates multiple boundaries like those in Conrad’s Niederwildungen and Dortmund Altarpieces, although the inner boundary of the St. Paul lacks the more elaborate coloured decoration included in these two altarpieces. St. Paul’s sword handle and sheath, along with Paul’s hand, overlap the gold border at the left, while his shoulder, toes, and hem overlap at the right. This provides the sense that St. Paul is pressing up against the edges of the panel, thereby heightening the sense of monumentality and presence. On the reverse of this panel, which depicts St. Reinold (Fig. 1.15), the background is red and there are no visible framing strips. But there are two vertical white lines near the outer edges that form another sort of boundary. Reinold’s arms, sword, and shield overlap this ‘boundary’, again contributing to the immediacy and presence of the figure. Here too, then, Conrad demonstrates his sensitivity to the boundary, and to the implications of blurred boundaries—be it in terms of meaning, or, as here, in terms of the formal qualities of the works he creates.44

43 Corley, Conrad, pp. 206–208, considers the work to be possibly by Conrad or his workshop, but the work is attributed to Conrad by Goldberg and Scheffler, Altdeutsche Gemälde, pp. 185–189, and Schawe, Alte Pinakothek, p. 179. 44 One additional work is sometimes attributed to Conrad, the St. Nicholas panel in Soest. Corley, Conrad, p. 214, however, attributes it to the Berswordt Master, and Engelbert, Conrad, pp. 125–129, attributes it to the circle of Conrad, based on its different conception of space and body, particularly the oblique recession of the tiles in connection with the symmetrical throne, which is atypical for Conrad himself. This single-panel work, like the St. Paul panel, has a tooled gold boundary inside the actual frame at the top only, which creates a horizontal band that terminates in a series of small arcs across the top, which almost look like tiny tracery frames. This elegant enclosure—both the lower arched section and part of the horizontal strip—is partially occluded by the throne of St. Nicholas. This interruption emphasizes the size of the throne and hence the sanctity of the man who sits on it. But it does so at the expense of the decorative unity of the punchwork. Whether or not this work is indeed autograph, it demonstrates the kind of sensitivity to the boundary, and to the implications of blurring the boundary similar to Conrad’s autograph works.

67

68 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 1.16. Berswordt Master, Berswordt Altarpiece, c. 1386, High Altar, Marienkirche, Dortmund (Photo: Werner Otto/Alamy Stock Photo).

Sources for Conrad von Soest’s Treatment of the Boundaries Conrad’s blurred borders likely derive from Westphalian precedents. As discussed above, the fourteenth-century Westphalian panel from Wormeln (Fig. 1.5) has banderols and figural elements that cross over boundaries. 45 To be sure (and as noted above), not all fourteenth-century Westphalian works did this: for example, the Master of the Osnabrück and Netze altarpieces fully respected the frames, as is evident in both the Osnabrück (Fig. 1.2) and Netze Altarpieces (Fig. 1.3), where nothing interrupts the framing elements between the scenes. 46 But one of Conrad von Soest’s major contemporaries in Dortmund, the Berswordt Master, violated self-established boundaries in one of his key works, the Crucifixion Altarpiece, a work generally known as the Berswordt Altarpiece (Fig. 1.16). This altarpiece is 45 Similarly, the fourteenth-century Westphalian wings from Merxhausen have banderoles that cross boundaries; for an illustration, see Pieper, Westfälische Malerei, p. 37. 46 On the Osnabrück/Netze Master, see above notes 2 and 3. In the Carrying of the Cross scene of the Osnabrück Altarpiece, the foot of the figure in pink and blue, carrying a shovel, actually goes behind the frame, and is then cut off, rather than continuing into the central Crucifixion scene. Other earlier Westphalian paintings that remain within the boundaries of the frame include the twelfth-century antependium in the LWL-Museum in Münster, which contains standing figures (the Virgin, John the Baptist, Walpurgis, and Augustine) firmly placed within arched openings, flanking Christ who appears fully within a quatrefoil frame. On this work, see Pieper, Deutschen, niederländischen und italienischen Tafelbilder, pp. 21–38. The strict separation of the scenes in the Hamburg Altarpiece of Master Bertram (Fig. 1.6), an artist of Westphalian origins, is discussed above. Similarly, the early fourteenth-century altarpiece fragments in the Evangelische Liebfrauenkirche in Hofgeismar show four scenes within trefoil frames, which are affixed as mouldings on top of the panel; the painted areas do not intrude onto these barriers. On this work, which has been thought to be from Hesse, but generally is considered Westphalian, see Stange, ‘Bemerkungen zur westfälischen Malerei’, pp. 207–211, Meyer-Barkhausen, ‘Hofgeismarer Altartafel’, and Pieper, Westfälische Malerei, pp. 21–28.

Fr amed Boundaries

presently located on the Holy Cross altar in the south chapel of the Marienkirche in Dortmund and likely was originally made for this location.47 The work’s date has been a controversial issue, but stylistic arguments regarding the work’s flat, surface character and lack of corporeality provide convincing evidence of a date around 1386, as does the dendro-chronological evidence of a felling date of 1376 for the wood panels.48 This means, then, that the Berswordt family coats of arms, which appear at the corners of the work’s interior, were later additions, since that family only gained patronage rights over the Holy Cross altar in 1431.49 The 1386 dating of the Berswordt Altarpiece situates it before Conrad’s Niederwildungen Altarpiece, thereby making it a potential source for Conrad’s approach to the boundary in that work.50 The Berswordt Altarpiece does not have sub-divided panels like those at Niederwildungen. But it nevertheless has a similarly complex framing system consisting of an outer red section, edged at each side in gold, and a bevelled inner edge in green and finally in gold. Both parts of the frame slant down to meet the surface of the painted panel. On the actual surface of the panels, abutting the frames attached to the panels, are red strips painted around the tops and around the sides of each panel, which form an additional, pictorially created frame around each scene. The Berswordt Master interrupts this represented frame by painting some elements that come in front of these red strips, blocking them from view. On all the panels, the red strips disappear at some point on each side, sometimes higher up, sometimes lower down, blocked by architecture, landscape, or figures at the sides of the various scenes. The cross overlaps the boundary at the right of the Carrying of the Cross and at both sides of the Deposition scene. In the Crucifixion, the vertical post of the cross overlaps the strip, while the crossbar aligns with it. Christ’s fingers nailed to the cross overlap into the red zone of the strip. The silhouetting of Christ’s curved fingers against the red margin creates a particularly poignant effect. All of this brings extra attention to the cross, as is appropriate for an altarpiece located on an altar dedicated to the Holy Cross. The consistent way in which the cross overlaps the red margin helps to emphasize its presence and importance, and even marks it as an object of devotional focus in all three scenes. 47 Zupancic, Berswordt-Meister, p. 98. 48 Zupancic, Berswordt-Meister, p. 128 and p. 132. 49 Zupancic, Berswordt-Meister, pp. 129–131. 50 Zupancic, Berswordt-Meister, p. 249, disputes Corley’s claims that the Berswordt Master was a follower of Conrad, arguing that the Berwordt Master actually came before him; Jacobs, ‘Meister des BerswordtAltares’, pp. 200–203, also dates the Berswordt’s Dortmund Altarpiece prior to the Niederwildungen Altarpiece, but sees the two artists more as contemporaries. Corley Conrad, p. 84, argues alternatively that the Berswordt Master is a follower of Conrad; Corley, Conrad, pp. 218–220, argues for a date for the Berswordt Altarpiece of around 1431 (the date that the Berswordt family gained control of the Holy Cross Chapel), a date that to me seems far too late on stylistic grounds.

69

70 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

The exact nature of the relation between the Berswordt Master and Conrad von Soest—and the level of influence between them—has been assessed differently by different scholars.51 But as artists working around the year 1400 in the same town of Dortmund (and in one case for the same church there, the Marienkirche), the two painters surely would have known about each other and seen each other’s works, at least the ones on display within Dortmund itself, as the Berswordt Altarpiece was.52 The transgressions of the boundaries within this work, along with other Westphalian examples available to Conrad, likely inspired Conrad’s even more extended interrogations of the boundaries in his works. On the other hand, Conrad could have also been influenced by transgressions of the boundary seen in Parisian fourteenth-century manuscript illumination.53 Many scholars have emphasized connections between Conrad and Parisian art due to the elegant, courtly quality of Conrad’s figures, which is not seen in earlier Westphalian art, but is typical of Parisian late fourteenth-century painting.54 Brigitte Corley has even argued that, in the 1380s, Conrad worked as a journeyman in the shop of the Parisian illuminator, the Master of the Parement de Narbonne.55 Certainly, beginning with Jean Pucelle and continuing throughout the fourteenth century, Parisian illumination often created frames, which were then interrupted by elements in the borders.56 Parisian miniatures thus could have been a source not only for Conrad’s courtly figural style, but also for his awareness of the 51 Jacobs, ‘Meister des Berswordt-Altares’, p. 202, sees the two masters as surprisingly independent, whereas Corley, Conrad, p. 84, sees the Berswordt Master as copying widely from Conrad. 52 I should note that there do not appear to be any other examples in which the Berswordt Master transgressed boundaries in his altarpieces; his other main altarpiece, that in Bielefeld, remains very contained within the work’s internal subdivisions. 53 Jacobs, ‘Meister des Bertswordt-Altares’, p. 52 and p. 54, for example, argues that the iconography of the Annunciation scene in the Berswordt Master’s Bielefeld Altarpiece was influenced by Franco-Flemish art, especially by Pucelle. 54 Among the authors linking Conrad to Parisian sources are Stange, Deutsche Malerei, vol. 3, pp. 27–28, who cites a source in a specif ic Parisian manuscript (the Livre de la Chasse, BN ms. fr. 616), but also considers influences from German art and considers the influences from Paris to be limited enough not to require Conrad to have actually travelled there; Fritz, Conrad: Wildunger Altar, pp. 12–15, who considers influences from Paris along with those from Burgundy and Master Bertram; and Steinbart, Konrad, p. 7 and p. 25, who links Conrad to Franco-Flemish art and posits trips both to France and Flanders. Zupancic, Berswordt-Meister, p. 244, however, argues that one Parisian element often highlighted in Conrad’s work, the inclusion of lavish courtly dress, is something first seen in the work of the Berswordt Master, who also was influenced in this respect by Parisian art. 55 See Corley, Conrad, pp. 131–147, who argues for the connections with the Parement Master and against significant links to other sources. These arguments are disputed by Zupancic, Berswordt-Meister, p. 249. 56 For example, in the Grands Chroniques de France (Paris, B.N. ms. fr. 2813), fol. 473v banquet scene, the entremets play, which enacts the siege and conquest of Jerusalem, depicted in the margins, overlaps into the banquet scene shown in the miniature, thereby creating an ambiguity between the two realities depicted on the page, that is, the banquet itself and the play performed at it. For this miniature, see Avril, Manuscript Painting at Court, p. 107, pl. 34.

Fr amed Boundaries

potential for meaning produced by interruptions of the frame.57 But the evidence of Conrad’s training in Paris is hypothetical.58 By contrast, the evidence of a tradition of interrogation of the frame within large-scale panel painting in Westphalia—and particularly within a major work by the Berswordt Master, a key contemporary and slightly older artist in Conrad’s home town of Dortmund itself—is on much firmer ground. This rooting within Westphalian art may explain why Conrad’s treatment of the boundaries ended up having a particularly strong influence on his followers. As a result, blurred boundaries became a distinctive feature within many Westphalian painted triptychs of the first half of the fifteenth century.

Blurred Boundaries in the Followers of Conrad von Soest The transgression of the boundaries is a key feature in three Westphalian works by followers of Conrad von Soest: the altarpieces of Warendorf (Fig. 1.17), Darup (Fig. 1.18), and Isseldorf (Fig. 1.19).59 The Crucifixion Triptych of Warendorf is now dispersed, with its central panel in the Pfarrkirche St. Laurence in Warendorf and parts of its wings in the Pfarrkriche Freckenhorst and the LWL-Museum in Münster.60 While the borders of the dispersed sections are largely lost, the main central section retains its borders, revealing that the Warendorf Master followed 57 This is not to say that Parisian manuscripts were the only ones to violate borders. Certainly Bohemian illumination of the period boasts examples of miniatures that extend past their self-created frames. See, for example, the miniatures in the famous Wenceslas Bible, c. 1390–1395 (Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. 2759–64): in the Expulsion of Adam and Eve, (vol. 1, fol. 5), the angel’s sword penetrates over the frame, as does Abraham’s sword in the Sacrifice of Isaac (vol. 1, fol. 19v); in Jacob’s Ladder (vol. 1, fol. 27), God the Father’s halo overlaps the frame, as it does in Moses Receiving the Tablets of the Law (vol. 1, fol. 186v). On this manuscript, see Erlande-Brandenburg, Grosjean, and Thomas, Bible de Prague, with illustrations of the miniatures mentioned above in plates 1, 5, 7, and 19. There are even Westphalian examples, notably a Westphalian manuscript illuminated in the second decade of the fourteenth century, the Nequambuch (or justice book) in Soest, which includes scenes that violate frames. In one folio, the left frame is overlapped by the seat and body of the judge, while the right frame is overlapped by one of the pitchers held by a man. On the Nequambuch, see Stange, Deutsche Malerei, vol. 1, pp. 92–94, and Stange, ‘Bemerkungen zur westfälischen Malerei’, pp. 208–209. 58 Zupancic, Berswordt-Meister, pp. 249–253. 59 The exact attribution and dates of these works are still a matter of dispute, as are the temporal relations between them, but they clearly are all closely related in style and date: all date to the early f ifteenth century, and all relate closely to Conrad von Soest, especially his Niederwildungen Altarpiece. On the relations between these three altarpieces, see Grötecke, ‘Retabel aus Darup, Warendorf und Isselhorst’, and Pieper, Deutschen, niederländischen und italienischen Tafelbilder, pp. 84–85. Since the focus of this chapter is the handling of the boundaries, the specifics of attribution and dating is not the focus of my analysis here. 60 On this work, see Corley, Conrad, pp. 220–222, and Pieper, Deutschen, niederländischen und italienischen Tafelbilder, pp. 70–77, which illustrates all the remaining panels.

71

72 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 1.17. Warendorf Master, Warendorf Altarpiece, central panel, c. 1414, Pfarrkirche St. Laurence, Warendorf (Photo: Andreas Lechtape, 2018 © Bildarchiv Foto Marburg/Art Resource, NY).

Conrad (and Westphalian traditions) in surrounding the entire panel within the actual frame, as well as the five individual scenes sub-divided within it, with red painted strips decorated with gilded chains, punctuated at regular intervals by gilded rosettes.61 These strips are interrupted in all five of the scenes portrayed in the central panel. In the Christ Before Pilate, architectural elements overlap the upper part of the strip all the way to the top, while the arm of the man in green slightly overlaps at the left side. Below in the Carrying of the Cross, the crossbar of the cross overlaps the red strip at the left (similar to that in the same scene in the Berswordt Altarpiece, Fig. 1.16), as does the halo of the holy woman at the left and the foot of Simon the Cyrenian who helps Christ carry the cross. On the other side, at the lower right, the vertical post of the cross overlaps the border zone. Here the artist seems to be making particularly conscious decisions about the boundaries given that the arm of the man with the Jew cap—the figure carrying a shovel, wearing plum and green—disappears behind the boundary strip farther up at the right. Moreover, the cross occludes part of the rosette, but is covered by the chain decoration. Here, then, the overlap of the boundary does a lot more than just draw visual and devotional attention to the cross. This overlap uses the boundaries 61 Corley, Conrad, p. 221, notes that the present wooden frame around the middle panel is not original.

Fr amed Boundaries

to push the narrative forward, allowing the Carrying of the Cross to move forward into the Crucifixion scene. In addition, the interruption of the frame exploits the power of the boundary as a spatial device. The placement of decoration on the frame partly on top of and below the cross has a recessive effect that is enhanced by the play of three-dimensionality created by the shading of the cross and the shading of the red strip, which is fairly uniform in colour on the vertical axis, but has a lighter strip on the top at the base of each scene. This effect is similar to that discussed above in Conrad’s Dorothy and Odilia panels (Fig. 1.12) and seems to have a similar goal of giving the figures a greater sense of presence despite their International Gothic lack of volume. But what may be most remarkable about the way the Warendorf Master manipulates the boundary in this scene is the way in which it communicates a distinct consciousness about the boundaries and about the ways in which the artist is manipulating them. In this work, the overlap of the base of the cross Christ carries functions like the cutting of the pastiglia in various places within the Niederwildungen Altarpiece (Fig. 1.1); that is, it serves as an index of the artist’s awareness of his own act of transgression of the boundary—and of his awareness of the significance of this act for the visual character and meaning of the work. The deliberateness of the choices about what goes in front of the margin and what goes behind it extends to the scenes on the right side of the central panel as well. In the upper Deposition scene, one side of the ladder clearly goes behind the frame, while the halo of the holy woman at the left of the scene and the sepulchre in the Entombment scene—both at the right and at the left—go in front of the border. These contrasts make the violations of the boundary take on a great impact and make the sepulchre, in particular, project out as if into the space of the viewer. In the central Crucifixion scene, the lateral borders remain largely intact, although at the right, the tail of the grey horse and a bit of the foliage slightly overlap the red border. The top margin is interrupted by the crossbars of the two thieves and the angel and devil who hover over them ready to take their souls. In this section, the overlap of the border suggests the closeness of death to one’s fate in the afterlife. This represents yet another way in which the violation of the boundary contributes to the meaning and impact of the work. A similar awareness of the role of the border is also evident in the Darup Altarpiece (Fig. 1.18) in the Church of Sts. Fabian and Sebastian, Darup. This altarpiece has been attributed to the Master of the Warendorf Altarpiece and/or his workshop, but may be from another master close in style to him.62 The work only preserves 62 On this work, see Pieper, Der Coesfelder und der Daruper Altar, pp. 41–65; Corley, Conrad, pp. 223–224; and Grötecke, ‘Retabel aus Darup, Warendorf und Isselhorst’, pp. 157–166. The most current attribution and dating is that of the LWL-Medienzentrum für Westfalen, which attributes the work to the Meister von Münster and dates it c. 1418.

73

74 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 1.18. Master of Münster, Darup Altarpiece, centre panel, c. 1418, High Altar, Church of Sts. Fabian and Sebastian, Darup (Photo: Stephan Saguma ©LWL-Medienzentrum für Westfalen).

its central section, which contains five scenes (arranged in the format used in the Niederwildungen Altarpiece, Fig. 1.1, and the Warendorf Altarpiece, Fig. 1.17), many of which overlap into the painted border between them, which, as at Warendorf, is red in colour. Perhaps most noticeable at first glance is the overlap of the crossbar of the cross at the left of the Carrying of the Cross scene. But the two scenes at the right of the Crucifixion interrupt the border often. In the Entombment scene, foliage overlaps on the left side, while landscape elements and the haloes of the holy women do so at the top. In addition, at the centre of this left side, the edge of the sepulchre protrudes into the boundary, almost in parallel to the crossbar in the Carrying of the Cross scene diagonally opposite it on the lower tier of scenes at the left. The right side of the scene completely overlaps the boundary so that here, unlike all the rest of the scenes, no red strip is visible on the right side. In the Resurrection scene below, white flowers overlap at the bottom left, and the top of the sepulchre overlaps at the upper right, as does Christ’s cross at the top. This scene illustrates particularly well how the meaning of the scene is impacted by the handling of the border: for here the violation of the boundary between life and death, which occurred when Christ bursts out of the tomb, is complemented by the elements that burst out of the boundary of the scene, especially Christ’s

Fr amed Boundaries

Fig. 1.19. Workshop of the Warendorf Master (?), Isselhorst Altarpiece, central panel, c. 1440, LWL-Museum für Kunst und Kultur, Westfälisches Landesmuseum, Münster (Photo: ©LWL-MKuK – ARTOTHEK).

staff-cross, which reaches over almost the entire expanse of the upper margin. The banner attached to the upper part of the staff flutters gently up to the bottom of the margin as if to call attention to the border itself. Perhaps for the same reason, in the central Crucifixion scene, the artist includes a tiny piece of fabric that flutters out from the superscription to overlap the edge of the border and allows the sword of one of the soldiers at the right to intrude into the border as well. The master who painted the Darup Altarpiece, like Conrad von Soest, clearly recognized the value of blurred borders for communicating iconographic information, as well as for helping to project elements of the scenes into the world of the viewer, giving the images a greater sense of immediacy, and thereby helping them exert a greater impact on the viewer. This last feature is particularly evident in the Isselhorst Altarpiece (Fig. 1.19), whose left and central panels are now in the LWL-Museum in Münster, while its extremely damaged right panel remains in the Pfarrkirche in Isselhorst. This work is generally attributed to an artist in a different workshop, though one close to the Warendorf and Darup shop, but who worked in a comparatively sparser and

75

76 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

stripped-down style.63 Like Warendorf (Fig. 1.17) and Darup (Fig. 1.18), Isselhorst has a central section divided into five sections, which, like the two scenes on the wings, were separated by framing strips. Although the current red framing strips here are modern, the original ones were in the same place.64 Only a few elements intrude into the borders: in the left panel (the right is too damaged to assess), the gate of the Meeting at the Golden Gate intrudes into the margin (though the angelic appearance to Joachim stays below the red margin).65 In the central panel, only one element crosses the margins, but it is a very important one: the cross of the Nailing to the Cross scene. Indeed, the cross extends into the margins both at the right, where the crossbar overlaps the red strip, and, most strikingly, on the left side, where the base of the cross goes so far across the margin that it actually ends up within the central Crucifixion scene itself. As Corley has noted, the foot of the cross onto which Christ is being nailed is embedded into the very same ground as the cross that is shown erected in the central Crucifixion scene.66 In this way, the blurring of the boundaries establishes a strong connection between the two closely connected narrative events, the Nailing to the Cross and the Crucifixion itself. The blurred boundaries here also help to establish a chronological ordering and sequence for the viewer’s eye to follow that differs from the common left-to-right chronological structuring. The Nailing to the Cross is placed to the right of the Crucifixion, although it took place before the Crucifixion. The intrusion of the cross of the Nailing to the Cross scene into the bottom of the Crucifixion scene draws the eye back into the centre, to the last moment in the cycle depicted in the central panel.67 In addition, this crossing of the margins effectively projects the cross into the space of the viewer in a way that intensifies the spectator’s engagement with this torturous event. By placing the cross upon which Christ is nailed in front of the boundary divisions between the scenes, the body of Christ, placed in an agonizingly 63 Pieper, Deutschen, niederländischen und italienischen Tafelbilder, pp. 84–85, attributes the work to the Meister von Münster, notes connections with the Darup and Warendorf Altarpieces, and dates the work c. 1440/1450. Corley, Conrad, p. 224, attributes this work to the workshop of the Warendorf Master and sees a date of 1430–1440 as plausible. Grötecke, ‘Retabel aus Darup, Warendorf und Isselhorst’, p. 179, argues that this is not by the Darup/Warendorf Master, but by a second master, close to the Darup/Warendorf Master, who worked later than him, and, on p. 187, dates the altarpiece c. 1440. Pieper, Der Coesfelder und der Daruper Altar, p. 54, notes the reduction of figures and content at Isselhorst compared to Darup and Warendorf. 64 Corley, Conrad, p. 224, notes that only the lower half of the frame is original and that the red framing strips between the scenes are modern. 65 For an illustration of this wing, see https://www.artothek.de/en/image-details/53714.html (accessed 3/3/2022). 66 Corley, Conrad, p. 224. 67 The narrative order of the central panel runs across the top level (from the Flagellation to the Mocking of Christ), diagonally down to the left to the Carrying of the Cross and then across the bottom tier to the Nailing to the Cross, and then back to the right to the Crucifixion scene.

Fr amed Boundaries

Fig. 1.20. Master of Schöppingen, Haldern Altarpiece, c. 1440–1450, LWL-Museum für Kunst und Kultur, Westfälisches Landesmuseum, Münster (Photo: ©LWL-MKuK – ARTOTHEK).

diagonal position, seems to project out of the picture itself into the realm of the spectator. This imagery thus demonstrates particularly well an unexpected side of Medialität: the potential visceral power of the blurring of boundaries. The tradition of blurring the boundaries becomes a less important element within Westphalian painting around the middle of the fifteenth century. Nevertheless, there are some more subtle continuations of this approach, with a few works including instances of blurred boundaries. For example, the Haldern Altarpiece by the Master of Schöppingen (Fig. 1.20, Münster, LWL-Museum) contains, on its interior, thirteen Passion scenes (four on each wing in two tiers and five in the centre).68 The scenes are separated by a painted red frame with white floral and green leaf decoration, with the red base colour varying to give the frame a greater three-dimensional character (in a development of the phenomenon discussed above in connection with Conrad’s Sts. Dorothy and Odilia, Fig. 1.12). For the most part, the elements within each scene are contained within these boundaries, but the staff of Christ does overlap the frame in the Resurrection and even more in the Descent into Limbo—though not in the Noli me Tangere. The impulse to probe the border zone remains in Westphalian painting even into the early sixteenth century. In the 1517 Sassenberg Altarpiece by the Master of the Sassenberg Altarpiece, the scenes in the central panel remain within their own borders, but, on the inner right wing, the halo of Christ in the Last Judgement overlaps the horizontal division; and in both inner wings, elements fly in at the top and spill out at the bottom.69 Westphalian artists continued to recognize the power of the edges long after specific influences from Conrad von Soest disappeared. 68 On this work, see Pieper, Deutschen, niederländischen und italienischen Tafelbilder, pp. 102–136. This work is sometimes referred to as the Billerbeck Altarpiece, due to the belief that the altarpiece may originally have been located in the Johanneskirche in Billerbeck. 69 On this altarpiece, see Pieper, Deutschen, niederländischen und italienischen Tafelbilder, pp. 307–319.

77

78 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

The Impact Elsewhere Conrad von Soest’s interrogation of the boundaries exerted influences beyond Westphalia itself, and similar approaches to the boundaries are seen especially within neighbouring Lower Saxony among artists who adopted Conrad’s stylistic tendencies more generally. A particularly striking example is found in the four painted wings of the so-called Golden Panel from Lüneburg (Lower Saxony) in the Niedersächsiches Landesmuseum in Hannover, which formed the first opening of an altarpiece (Figs. 1.21, 1.22, 1.23, 1.24).70 The second opening, of which only the wings and not the central shrine survives, was sculpted,71 so that this altarpiece presents a similar approach to the boundaries as that in Conrad’s Niederwildungen Altarpiece, a fully painted triptych, within the format of a double-winged altarpiece that combines sculpture and painting. The painted panels of this work are associated with two artists, the first thought to come from a Göttingen workshop (Lower Saxony) influenced by Conrad; the second artist traditionally has been linked to Cologne, particularly the Master of St. Veronica, though more recently this hand has been associated with more local, North Hanseatic traditions, and seen as part of a new artistic generation arising after the death of Master Bertram.72 Each of the four painted wings is divided up into nine sections by dark painted green strips with gilded stencilled decorations. The divisions established by these frames were pre-planned and marked with scratches into the painting’s ground, although the painting of the strips and of the scenes seems to have been carried out at the same time, since some of the clothing appears below the strips, but other elements lie above them.73 These latter items, in panels by both of the hands producing the Golden Panel, violate the boundary strips. Some of these violations of the boundary function like those in the Niederwildungen Altarpiece. Thus, for example, in the Agony in the Garden (Fig. 1.22), the right upper frame is occluded by the appearance of God the Father (who takes the form of a man here, not a hand as in Conrad’s work, Fig. 1.8). So too, in the Golden 70 On this work, see Blaschke, Studien zur Malerei; Corley, Conrad, pp. 226–231; Wolfson, Deutschen und niederländischen Gemälde, pp. 117–129; and Köllermann and Unsinn, Zeitenwende 1400. 71 On the sculptures of this work, see Köllermann, ‘Wege und Irrwege’, pp. 40–46, who compares the sculpted opening of this altarpiece to that in Master Bertram’s altarpiece from the Petrikirche in Hamburg; however, as discussed above, the painted opening of the Petrikirche Altarpiece (Fig. 1.6.) differs from the Golden Panel in having strictly separated scenes, rather than following the model of Conrad von Soest like the Golden Panel’s painted first opening. 72 The division of hands, which was largely made by Blaschke, is summarized by Wolfson, Deutschen und niederländischen Gemälde, p. 117, who also associates the first hand with an artist from Göttingen influenced by Conrad and the second with an artist from Cologne. Köllermann, ‘Wege und Irrwege’, pp. 71–72, disputes the association of the second artist with Cologne. 73 I am indebted to Christine Unsinn for this information about the dividing strips on these panels.

Fr amed Boundaries

Fig. 1.21. Master of the Golden Panel, Golden Panel from Lüneberg, inside of left outer wing, c. 1418–1420, Niedersächsisches Landesmuseum, Hannover (Photo: © Landesmuseum Hannover – ARTOTHEK).

79

80 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 1.22. Master of the Golden Panel, Golden Panel from Lüneberg, outside of left inner wing, c. 1418–1420, Niedersächsisches Landesmuseum, Hannover (Photo: © Landesmuseum Hannover – ARTOTHEK).

Fr amed Boundaries

Fig. 1.23. Master of the Golden Panel, Golden Panel from Lüneberg, outside of right inner wing, c. 1418–1420, Niedersächsisches Landesmuseum, Hannover (Photo: © Landesmuseum Hannover – ARTOTHEK).

81

82 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 1.24. Master of the Golden Panel, Golden Panel from Lüneberg, inside of right outer wing, c. 1418–1420, Niedersächsisches Landesmuseum, Hannover (Photo: © Landesmuseum Hannover – ARTOTHEK).

Fr amed Boundaries

Panel, as in the Niederwildungen Altarpiece (Fig. 1.1), Christ’s halo frequently intrudes into the borders, specif ically in the scenes of the Fight over Christ’s Garment (Fig. 1.21), the Crucifixion (Fig. 1.21), the Ascension (Fig. 1.23), and the Death of the Virgin (Fig. 1.24). Moreover, Christ’s staff overlaps the frame in the Descent into Limbo (Fig. 1.22) and Ascension scenes (Fig. 1.23); in the latter, the banner on the staff also intrudes into the border. Some architectural elements in the Golden Panel also slightly violate the upper boundary, notably the finial over the arch in the Flagellation (Fig. 1.24) and the arch over the throne in the Coronation of the Virgin (Fig. 1.24). In some scenes in the Golden Panel, the figure’s robes cross borders like that of the women with the turtle doves in the Presentation of the Niederwildungen Altarpiece (Fig. 1.7); in the Golden Panel, Mary’s robe crosses the border in the Circumcision scene (Fig. 1.22), as does Mary’s robe (and that of another f igure behind her), even more dramatically in the scene of the Ascension (Fig. 1.23). In this Ascension scene, the extreme overlap of the robes at the left—together with the overlap of Christ’s halo, staff, and banner—demonstrates particularly well how blurred boundaries can project the figures out of the picture space and give them a much more palpable presence than the International Gothic character of the figures themselves might offer. These overlaps also demonstrate how much the Golden Panel was influenced by Conrad von Soest’s treatment of the borders. But within the Golden Panel some quite distinctive and unusual connections are created through the crossings of boundaries. By allowing the halo of the crucified Christ to completely cover the frame between the Crucifixion and the Last Supper scene above (Fig. 1.21), Christ is brought into oddly close proximity to the feet of Judas. This deepens the linkage between Christ and his betrayer established within the Last Supper scene itself, which was strongly influenced compositionally by Conrad’s Niederwildungen Altarpiece (Fig. 1.8). In addition, the artist creates a connection between Christ Washing the Feet and the Deposition (Fig. 1.22) by penetrating the frame between these two vertically stacked scenes. The robe of Christ, who kneels to wash the feet of a disciple (perhaps Peter?), spills over the boundary at the bottom to literally touch the head of the figure on the ladder in the Deposition, who helps lower Christ’s dead body from the cross. This creates a poignant and unbroken, though mediated, line of connection between Christ’s live body and his dead one, as well as a connected series of postures of humility: Christ’s kneeling act of humility, the bent-over posture of the man lowering Christ, and the bent posture of Christ’s dead corpse. All of these connections of form and meaning are made possible by the creation of, and then the violation of, the boundaries within these panels. In addition to the painted and sculpted Golden Panel, another work produced in Lower Saxony, c. 1419, the Wernigerode Altarpiece (Fig. 1.25), a painted triptych,

83

84 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 1.25. Master of the Wernigerode Altarpiece, Wernigerode Altarpiece, c. 1419, Hessisches Landesmuseum, Darmstadt (Photo: ©HLMD, Foto: Wolfgang Fuhrmannek).

includes numerous violations of its internally created boundaries.74 Thus, for example, in the Adoration of the Magi scene in the top of the left wing, the top beams of the stable overlap the painted green frame at the top of the scene, while the foot of the kneeling Magus overlaps the frame at the bottom. In the Presentation scene on the upper right wing, three haloes of holy women overlap the top green framing strip; in the Nativity scene below, part of the stable’s frame overlaps the boundary at the right, while the swaddling cloth dangles over the frame at the lower left. But the most daring violation of the boundary occurs in the centre panel, especially where the angling of the Virgin’s throne allows it to completely cover the lower part of the frame between it and the scene from the life of St. Achatius at the lower left. While the other overlaps give the imagery a greater sense of presence, the treatment of the Virgin’s throne allows it to forcefully project out of the space of the altarpiece, seeming to bring the Virgin and Child into the space of the viewer and, through the power of the boundary at the right, leaving the donor and St. Peter a bit behind, still within the space of the painting. One more work from Lower Saxony, the Peter and Paul Altarpiece, a painted triptych in the Church of St. Lambert in Hildesheim (Fig. 1.26), also blurs the boundaries, albeit in a more unusual way.75 This altarpiece lacks much of its original framing, although some original gilded strips remain in the centre and remnants of the original red painted framing elements are also visible in some places.76 The scenes in the wings are contained within the framing elements, but remarkable things occur at the boundaries in the centre panel. This panel, which has a central Crucifixion flanked by two vertically stacked scenes at each side, includes a number 74 On this work, see Foerster, ‘Beobachtungen zum Wernigeröder Altar’. 75 On this work and its treatment of the boundaries, see Neitzert, ‘Peter-und-Pauls-Altar’, and GrapeAlbers, ‘Kunsthistorische Stellung’. 76 Neitzert, ‘Peter-und-Pauls-Altar’, pp. 129–130, discusses the condition of the frame, of the red boundary frames, and of the paint surface more generally.

Fr amed Boundaries

Fig. 1.26. Anonymous Master, Peter and Paul Altarpiece, centre panel, interior, c. 1420, Chuch of St. Lambert, Hildesheim (Photo: Gerhard Lutz, Hildesheim).

of elements that cross the borders from the sides to link into the Crucifixion. At the top, landscape elements continue across the borders between centre and sides, specifically, rocky formations that appear on both sides of the frame. On the bottom tier, figurative elements cross over the boundaries as well. In the Entombment scene at the right, the base of the sepulchre and part of the shroud extend out of the scene and continue into the Crucifixion scene. In addition, the wattle fence curves across the entire right-hand scene, surrounding the sepulchre; the fence then extends well into the lower right-hand section of the Crucifixion scene. This fence establishes the space at the bottom right of the Crucifixion as part of the garden where Christ was entombed, separate from Golgotha itself, with its entrance marked by a gate with an open door. At this gate stands a figure who hands a vessel of embalming oil to another figure (perhaps Joseph of Arimathea, and perhaps also the same figure at the head of Christ in the Entombment scene itself). On the left side, the boundary between the Carrying of the Cross and the Crucifixion has broken down to the degree that Christ has actually carried his cross out of the side scene and walked into the Crucifixion, leaving only the back part of his body and the vertical post of the cross in the Carrying scene itself. The crossbar is already in the space of the Crucifixion. However, part of the Crucifixion scene extends back into the space of Christ Carrying the Cross: the feet of the women kneeling before Veronica’s veil in the Crucifixion scene continue across the divide into the lateral space at the left, creating both a push forward and a pull backward across the boundaries between these two narrative events. The Hildesheim Altarpiece clearly was influenced by Westphalian sources. The format of the work, with its five-part centre and four-part wings, follows that of the

85

86 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Niederwildungen Altarpiece (Fig. 1.1), and the central panel iconographically exactly follows the choice of scenes within the centre of the Warendorf Altarpiece (Fig. 1.17).77 Moreover, both the Hildesheim and Warendorf Crucifixion scenes contain some of the same specific motifs, notably the extreme downward curve of the neck of the white horse at the right and the Magdalene hugging the cross as Christ’s blood runs down it. Hence the transgressions of the boundary at Hildesheim can also been seen as rooted in the work of Conrad von Soest and his Westphalian followers. But there are two very critical differences between Hildesheim and its Westphalian predecessors. First, at Hildesheim, the central Crucifixion scene is much broader than the Westphalian examples. Indeed, it is so broad that the wings would not cover the centre unless the frame were to be extremely broad.78 In addition, the boundaries in the Peter and Paul Altarpiece, rather than being crossed in front of the frame as in the works of Conrad and his followers, are crossed behind the framing elements. As a result, this work forms a key transitional stage out of the five-part central panel format—established in the late fourteenth-century painted triptychs at Netze (Fig. 1.3) and Osnäbruck (Fig. 1.2) and carried on by Conrad von Soest and his followers—toward the development of painted triptychs with undivided central panels that have Crucifixion scenes together with full Passion cycles acted out in a single frame, as in later Westphalian works, such as the Master of Schöppingen’s Crucifixion Altarpiece (1453–1457, Fig. 1.27) in the Church of St. Brictius, Schöppingen.79 Hildesheim’s broader central Crucifixion is ready to contain additional Passion scenes and indeed is already welcoming Christ carrying the cross at the left and incorporating the Entombment at the right. Moreover, once the borders are crossed from behind rather than in front, the central panel is capable of opening up more fully to the space behind the frame, thereby allowing for the development of landscape depth, as seen in the mid-century works, but not yet at Hildesheim. Moreover, once the borders are crossed from behind, rather than in front, they are in effect ignored, rather than leveraged. Hence the borders can easily be eliminated. But when two Westphalian triptychs of around 1400 and 1450 are compared—Conrad von Soest’s Niederwildungen Altarpiece (Fig. 1.1) and the Master of Schöppingen’s 77 On Westphalian sources for this work, see Neitzert, ‘Peter-und-Pauls-Altar’, pp. 133–143, which cites Behrens and Stange as scholars arguing that the master was trained in the workshop of the Warendorf Master, but instead posits that the master of this altarpiece was trained by a Lübeck student of Conrad von Soest. Grape-Albers, ‘Kunsthistorische Stellung’, p. 48, notes the similarities between the iconography at Warendorf and Hildesheim; p. 38, similarities in format with Westphalian scenes; and p. 46, general connections to Westphalian traditions. 78 Luckhardt, ‘Bildprogramm des Peter-und-Paul-Altares’, p. 7. 79 Neitzert, ‘Peter-und-Pauls-Altar’, p. 135, and Luckhardt, ‘Bildprogramm des Peter-und-Paul-Altares’, p. 11.

Fr amed Boundaries

Fig. 1.27. Master of Schöppingen, Crucifixion Altarpiece (Schöppingen Altarpiece), 1453–1457, St. Brictius, Schöppingen (Photo: Andreas Lechtape, 2003–2004/Art Resource).

Schöppingen Altarpiece (Fig. 1.27)—the power of Conrad’s boundaries becomes evident. While, to be sure, the Schöppingen Altarpiece has a much more ‘modern’ unified, spatially recessive landscape setting both in the centre and sides (indeed, the entire triptych can be seen as having one unified spatial setting), it sacrifices the ways in which frames can effectuate separation, and when violated, can punctuate the connections deliberately created across them. Conrad von Soest recognized the power of the borders when he carefully planned for both the presence and absence of framing elements around the thirteen scenes of the Niederwildungen Altarpiece and his other works. All this planning of the boundaries, even to the addressing their materiality at Niederwildungen, indexes Conrad’s consciousness of the artistry within his works. Conrad reveals himself as a self-aware artist not only in his manipulation of the frames within this triptych, but also through his multiple signatures within his Niederwildungen Altarpiece. Conrad signed his name in this altarpiece in clever, almost hidden ways, both in the prayer book of Mary in the Annunciation and in the book held by the man with glasses in the Pentecost.80 In Netherlandish triptychs, Jan van Eyck represents the consummate self-aware artist, with his signatures, self-portraits, reflections, and pictorial elements that consciously comment on his recognition of his own powers of mimesis.81 But Conrad von Soest, creating the Niederwildungen Altarpiece 29 years before Jan van Eyck’s first dated work, the Ghent Altarpiece, also demonstrated a strong self-awareness—not about his ability to create a revolutionary new naturalism, but about his skills in Medialität, 80 On these signatures, see Engelbert, Conrad, pp. 68–70. 81 The literature on Van Eyck as a self-aware artist is too vast to be fully cited here. Some examples that focus particularly on this issue include: Koerner, Moment of Self-Portraiture, pp. 55–56 and pp. 106–108; Rothstein, Sight and Spirituality, esp. pp. 151–154, Stoichita, Self-Aware Image, esp. pp. 37–38, pp. 192–197, and pp. 220–221, and Pauwels, ‘Paradoxes du réalisme’.

87

88 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 1.28. Anonymous Master, Norfolk Triptych, interior, c. 1415, Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen, Rotterdam (Photo: © KIK-IRPA, Brussels).

specifically, his ability to manipulate the triptych medium in new ways by playing against its boundaries. Very few Netherlandish painted triptychs prior to the 1430s survive. Of these, the best known is the Norfolk Triptych of c. 1410–1420 (Fig. 1.28), which has a divided interior similar in some ways to that of the Niederwildungen Altarpiece (Fig. 1.1), albeit on a much smaller scale and with much less narrative content. This triptych’s artist, who perhaps comes from Liège, is not unaware of the boundaries: on the top register of the left wing, St. Agnes’s robe drapes over the edge almost into the register below.82 At the bottom, the architectural structure, which frames all the scenes, projects forward at points and at other points is slightly set back from the frame, leaving a strip of empty ground in front. Still, Conrad von Soest’s Niederwildungen Altarpiece and other works in his oeuvre engage much more fully with the structures of the multi-compartment triptych interior. Around 1400, then, Westphalian triptychs seem to have been more aware of the possibilities inherent in their format, that is, more aware of the medial conditions on the triptych interior than their Netherlandish counterparts. The ways in which fifteenth-century German triptychs, compared to Netherlandish ones, engage differently with a different aspect 82 On this work, see Kemperdick and Lammertse, Road to Van Eyck, pp. 185–187, with references to literature on the work.

Fr amed Boundaries

of their format, the relation between their exteriors and interiors, is a subject that will be treated next in Chapter Two.

Works Cited Avril, François. Manuscript Painting at the Court of France: The Fourteenth Century, 1310–1380. New York: G. Braziller, 1978. Blaschke, Rainer. ‘Studien zur Malerei der Lüneburger “Goldenen Tafel”’. PhD. dissertation, Ruhr-Universität Bochum, 1976. Chlumská, Štěpánka. Bohemia and Central Europe, 1200–1550: The Permanent Exhibition of the Old Masters of the National Gallery in Prague at the Convent of St. Agnes of Bohemia. Prague: National Gallery in Prague, 2006. Corley, Brigitte. Conrad von Soest: Painter among Merchant Princes. London: Harvey Miller, 1996. Engelbert, Arthur. Conrad von Soest: Ein Dortmunder Maler um 1400. Dortmund: Cramers Kunstanstalt, 1995. Erlande-Brandenburg, Alain, Jean Grosjean, and Marcel Thomas. La Bible de Prague: Reproduction en fac-similé de peintures de la Bible de Wenceslas IV, roi de Bohême. Paris: Philippe Lebaud, 1989. Foerster, Thomas. ‘Beobachtungen zum Wernigeröder Altar in Hessischen Landesmuseum Darmstadt’. Kunst in Hessen und am Mittelrhein 6 (2011), pp. 9–40. Fritz, Rolf. Conrad von Soest: Der Dortmunder Marienaltar. Bremen Angelsachsen-Verl., 1950. Fritz, Rolf. Conrad von Soest: Der Wildunger Altar. Munich: Hirmer, 1954. Geisberg, Max. ‘Der Altar der Marienkirche in Dortmund’. Westfälische Kunsthefte 2 (1930), pp. 12–14. Gmelin, Hans Georg. ‘Bertram [von Minden] Master’. Grove Art Online. https://doi.org/10.1093/ gao/9781884446054.article.T008408. Goldberg, Gisela and Gisela Scheffler. Altdeutsche Gemälde: Köln und Nordwestdeutschland, vollständiger Katalog. Munich: Bayerische Staatsgemäldesammlungen, 1972. Grape-Alpers, Heide. ‘Die kunsthistorische Stellung des Peter- und Paul-Altars aus der Hildesheimer Lamberti-Kirche’. In Drei Tafeln des Peter-und Paul-Altars aus der LambertiKirche in der Neustadt von Hildesheim, pp. 33–49. Hannover: Kulturstiftung der Länder, 2000. Grötecke, Iris. ‘Die Retabel aus Darup, Warendorf und Isselhorst: Forschung, Werkstatt, Rezeptionsvorgänge’. Westfalen 85/86 (2010), pp. 147–189. Hall, James. The Sinister Side: How Left-Right Symbolism Shaped Western Art. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008. Hauschild, Stephanie. Meister Bertram: Der Petri-Altar. Hamburg: Hamburger Kunsthalle, 2002.

89

90 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Hengelhaupt, Uta. ‘Der Netzer Altar: Die Zeitqualität der Raumform und der farbigen Gestattung’. In Diversarum artium studia: Beiträge zu Kunstwissenschaft, Kunsttechnologie und ihren Randgebieten: Festschrift für Heinz Roosen-Runge zum 70. Geburtstag, edited by Helmut Engelhart, pp. 105–115. Wiesbaden: Reichert, 1982. Jacobs, Friedrich. ‘Der Meister des Berswordt-Altares’. PhD. dissertation, University of Münster, 1983. Jacobs, Lynn F. Early Netherlandish Carved Altarpieces, 1380–1550: Medieval Tastes and Mass Marketing. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998. Jacobs, Lynn F. Opening Doors: The Early Netherlandish Triptych Reinterpreted. University Park, PA: The Pennsylvania State University Press, 2012. Kemperdick, Stephan. Deutsche und böhmische Gemälde, 1230–1430: Kritischer Bestandskatalog. Petersberg: M. Imhof, 2010. Kemperdick, Stephan and Friso Lammertse. The Road to Van Eyck. Rotterdam: Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen, 2012. Koerner, Joseph Leo. The Moment of Self-Portraiture in German Renaissance Art. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1993. Köllermann, Antje-Fee. ‘Wege und Irrwege der Kunstgeschichte: Bemerkungen zu den Künstlern der Goldenen Tafel’. In Zeitenwende 1400: Die goldene Tafel als europäisches Meisterwerk, edited by Antje-Fee Köllermann and Christine Unsinn, pp. 63–75. Petersberg: Michael Imhof, 2019. Köllermann, Antje-Fee and Christine Unsinn. Zeitenwende 1400: Die goldene Tafel als europäisches Meisterwerk. Petersberg: Michael Imhof, 2019. Luckhardt, Jochen. ‘Das Bildprogramm des Peter- und Paul-Altares aus der Hildesheimer Lamberti-Kirche’. In Drei Tafeln des Peter-und Paul-Altars aus der Lamberti-Kirche in der Neustadt von Hildesheim, pp. 7–17. Hannover: Kulturstiftung der Länder, 2000. Mellinkoff, Ruth. Outcasts: Signs of Otherness in Northern Europe of the Late Middle Ages. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993. Meyer-Barkhausen, Werner. ‘Die Hofgeismarer Altartafel’. Soester Zeitschrift des Vereins für die Geschichte von Soest und der Börde 78 (1964), pp. 35–42. Miner, Dorothy Eugenia. International Style: The Arts in Europe Around 1400. Baltimore: The Walters Art Gallery, 1962. Neitzert, Gabriele. ‘Der Peter-und-Pauls-Altar in der St.-Lamberti-Kirche zu Hildesheim’. Niederdeutsche Beiträge zur Kunstgeschichte 6 (1976), pp. 127–166. Pauwels, Yves. ‘Les paradoxes du réalisme dans l’oeuvre de Jan van Eyck’. Gazette des Beaux-Arts, 6th ser., 126 (1995), pp. 201–210. Pieper, Paul. Westfälische Malerei des 14. Jahrhunderts. Münster: Landesmuseum, 1964. Pieper, Paul. Der Coesfelder und der Daruper Altar: Zwei Hauptwerke der mittelalterlichen Kunst in Westfalen. Dülmen: Laumann, 1968. Pieper, Paul. Die deutschen, niederländischen und italienischen Tafelbilder bis um 1530. Münster: Aschendorff, 1986.

Fr amed Boundaries

Pilz, Wolfgang. Das Triptychon als Kompositions- und Erzählform in der deutschen Tafelmalerei von den Anfängen bis zur Dürerzeit. Munich: W. Fink, 1970. Platte, Hans. Meister Bertram in der Hamburger Kunsthalle. Hamburg: Hamburger Kunsthalle, 1965. Rothstein, Bret. L. Sight and Spirituality in Early Netherlandish Painting. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005. Rubin, Miri. ‘Desecration of the Host: The Birth of an Accusation’. In Christianity and Judaism: Papers Read at the 1991 Summer Meeting and the 1992 Winter Meeting of the Ecclesiastical History Society, edited by Diana Wood, pp. 169–185. Oxford: Blackwell, 1992. Rubin, Miri. Gentile Tales: The Narrative Assault on Late Medieval Jews. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1999. Sander, Jochen, ed. Schaufenster des Himmels: Der Altenberger Altar und seine Bildausstattung/Heaven on Display: The Altenberg Altar and its Imagery. Berlin: Deutscher Kunstverlag, 2016. Schawe, Martin. Alte Pinakothek: Altdeutsche und altniederländische Malerei. Ostfildern: Hatje Cantz, 2006. Schiller, Gertrud. Iconography of Christian Art. Translated by Janet Seligman. Greenwich, CT: New York Graphic Society Ltd., 1972. Stange, Alfred. Deutsche Malerei der Gotik. Berlin: Deutscher Kunstverlag: 1934–1961. Stange, Alfred. ‘Einige Bemerkungen zur westfälischen Malerei des frühen 14. Jahrhunderts’. Westfalen 32 (1954), pp. 201–211. Steinbart, Kurt. Konrad von Soest. Vienna: Schroll, 1946. Stoichita, Victor Ieronim. The Self-Aware Image: An Insight into Early Modern Meta-Painting. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997. Wolfson, Michael. Die deutschen und niederländischen Gemälde bis 1550: Kritischer Katalog mit Abbildungen aller Werke. Hannover: Niedersächsisches Landesmuseum Hannover, 1992. Wöllenstein, Helmut. Von Angesicht zu Angesicht: Der Wildunger Altar des Conrad von Soest. Kassel: Evangelischer Medienverband, 2003. Zehnder, Frank Günter. Katalog der altkölner Malerei: Kataloge des Wallraf-RichartzMuseums XI. Cologne: Stadt Köln, 1990. Zupancic, Andrea. Der Berswordt-Meister und die Dortmunder Malerei um 1400: Stadtkultur im Spätmittelalter. Bielefeld: Verlag für Regionalgeschichte, 2002.

91

2.

Transparent Boundaries: Colour on the Exterior of German Fifteenth-Century Triptychs Abstract This chapter examines the use of colour on German triptych exteriors—and the development of pictorial, rather than pseudo-sculptural forms of monochrome—as demonstrations of independence from Netherlandish traditions of grisaille. The presence of colouring on most f ifteenth-century German triptych exteriors indicates that here, contrasts at the boundary between exterior and interior were not essential to the format—nor, for that matter, was it essential to use the exterior for the conscious display of the mimetic power of painting to simulate sculpture. Instead, German triptychs used coloured exteriors to explore Medialität by creating transparency between the exterior and interior, that is, by establishing close connections between the two zones through formal integration, including through consistencies in colouring. Keywords: grisaille, Gabriel Angler, paragone, transparency, pictorial monochrome

The Resurrection Triptych in Stuttgart by the anonymous South German artist, the Master of the Ehningen Altarpiece (Fig. 2.1), is a testament to the strong influence of Netherlandish traditions on triptychs within German-speaking regions.1 The coat of arms on the exterior of this triptych indicates that the work was commissioned by Countess Palatine Mechthild of Rottenburg am Neckar, who donated it to the church of St. Mary at Ehningen in 1476. Mechthild was known for her interest in NetherlandishBurgundian culture. Indeed, this triptych shows such strong affinities with the art of 1 I would like to thank Iris Brahms, Stephan Kemperdick, Iris Lauterbach, Aleksandra Lipińska, Ulrich Pfisterer, Jochen Sander, and Matthais Weniger for their generous help with the development of my ideas for this chapter. On the Master of Ehninger’s Resurrection triptych, see Borchert, Van Eyck to Dürer, p. 306; Wiemann, Holbein Graue Passion in ihrer Zeit, pp. 334–338; Wiemann Altdeutsche Malerei, p. 23; and Krause, ‘An der Grenze’, p. 334.

Jacobs, L.F. The Painted Triptychs of Fifteenth-Century Germany: Case Studies of Blurred Boundaries. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2022 doi 10.5117/9789463725408_ch02

94 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 2.1. Master of the Ehningen Altarpiece Resurrection Triptych, interior, c. 1476, Staatsgalerie, Stuttgart (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Staatsgalerie, Stuttgart/Art Resource, NY).

Dieric Bouts—in style, motifs, and even its technique of painting on canvas pasted on wood—that the work is generally considered to be a copy of a lost work by Bouts.2 The triptych’s central panel is extremely close in particular to the Resurrection in The Hague, which is attributed to the workshop, or a follower of Dieric Bouts.3 The exterior of the Master of the Ehningen Altarpiece’s Resurrection Triptych (Fig. 2.2) depicts an Annunciation scene, one of the most common themes found on the exterior of Netherlandish triptychs.4 The Ehningen Altarpiece Annunciation scene is very similar to an Annunciation in Richmond, Virginia (Fig. 2.3), which has been associated with the Dieric Bouts workshop or a Bouts follower.5 In the Stuttgart and Richmond Annunciations, the pose and garb of the angel, as well as the 2 Borchert, Van Eyck to Dürer, p. 282 and p. 306. There is some question about whether the artist could have been a Netherlandish artist working in Germany or a German artist who trained in Bouts’s shop, but the artist is generally considered to have been a German, Swabian artist. 3 Borchert, Van Eyck to Dürer, p. 133 and p. 306. 4 See Jacobs, Opening Doors, pp. 63–65. 5 Périer D’Ieteren, Dieric Bouts, p. 214, attributes the Richmond work to a follower of Bouts. Wiemann, Holbein Graue Passion in ihrer Zeit, pp. 334–336, notes the strong relation between the Richmond work and the Stuttgart one, and attributes the Richmond work to an unknown follower of Bouts. Friedländer, Early Netherlandish Painting, vol. 3, p. 70, called the Richmond painting a copy after Dieric Bouts, and saw it as derived from the same model as the Ehningen Master’s altarpiece. Friedländer noted the lack of an altar niche in the Richmond painting, but noted that this motif is often found in Albert Bouts’s Annunciations, a point also made in Wiemann, Holbein Graue Passion in ihrer Zeit, p. 336, in specif ic reference to an Albert Bouts Annunciation in the Alte Pinakothek in Munich. The Virginia Museum of Fine Arts considers the work to be by the Bouts workshop and dates it c. 1475. I am indebted to Colleen Yarger of the VMFA for information about this work.

Tr ansparent Boundaries

Fig. 2.2. Master of the Ehningen Altarpiece, Annunciation, exterior of the Resurrection Triptych, c. 1476, Staatsgalerie, Stuttgart (Photo: © Staatsgalerie Stuttgart).

pose of the Virgin are all quite close; in addition, both works include a set of shelves in the background, and even have a scroll protruding in front of the second shelf. Other elements in the Stuttgart triptych’s Annunciation not seen in the Richmond Annunciation can be found in other Boutsian Annunciations. For example, the prominent door-opening with an arched tympanum above, and the bench with the vase of lilies are both seen in a Bouts-school Annunciation in Cracow (although in the latter, the vase is on the bench, whereas in Stuttgart the vase is on the floor in front of the bench).6 Hence, like the artists responsible for the Annunciations in Richmond and 6 For an illustration, see Friedländer, Early Netherlandish Painting, vol. 3, p. 70, # 79, plate 90.

95

96 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 2.3. Workshop of Dieric Bouts, Annunciation, c. 1475, Virginia Museum of Fine Arts, Richmond, VA, Adolph D. And Wilkins C. Williams Fund 55.10 (Photo: Travis Fullerton © Virginia Museum of Fine Arts).

Cracow, the Master of the Ehningen Altarpiece probably closely followed a lost model by Dieric Bouts for his Annunciation on the exterior of the Resurrection Triptych. However, the use of these Boutsian single-panel Annunciations as sources for the exterior of the Stuttgart triptych draws attention to a central issue that

Tr ansparent Boundaries

the Master of Ehningen clearly used different Boutsian models for the exterior and interior of his Resurrection Triptych. While the Stuttgart Triptych interior likely derived from the interior of a Boutsian Resurrection triptych, the Stuttgart exterior no doubt deviated signif icantly from whatever was on the exterior of the original Bouts Resurrection triptych. The exterior of the original Boutsian triptych, while it could well have depicted the Annunciation, would never have shown it in the manner of the Boutsian single-panel Annunciations after which the Master of the Ehningen Altarpiece modelled his triptych exterior. For the Bouts triptych’s exterior would have been rendered in grisaille, the monochrome colouration that was virtually ubiquitous on the exteriors of Netherlandish triptychs from the 1430s through the mid-1470s.7 While nearly all of Bouts’s autograph triptychs have lost their reverses, those triptychs that retain their exterior imagery all have grisaille exteriors, as is evident, for example, on the exterior of the triptych known as the Pearl of Brabant in Munich (Fig. 2.4), a work of contested attribution, but likely by Dieric Bouts and his workshop. 8 The Pearl of Brabant’s exterior depictions of Sts. Catherine and Barbara, like all the f igures on the exteriors of Bouts triptychs, are rendered in monochrome tonalities as if they were unpainted stone sculptures placed within stone niches. By contrast, the exterior of the Master of the Ehningen Altarpiece’s Resurrection Triptych (Fig. 2.2) is highly colourful, with Mary clad in deep blue and the angel in white with a gold and dark green brocaded dalmatic; the bench in the back is covered with a red cloth and has red pillows on it, while the shelves have a green curtain pushed over to the left side. Moreover, the Annunciation scene is shown in the fully articulated, recessive spatial environment of an interior room, not the limited space of a stone niche. So while the Stuttgart Triptych could have followed a lost Dieric Bouts triptych in its choice of subject matter for both its interior and exterior, the Stuttgart Triptych could not have followed any Bouts triptych exterior as a source for the composition and colouration of its exterior Annunciation scene. Only Boutsian single-panel or triptych interior scenes, which did not follow the conventions of Netherlandish triptych exterior design, could have provided the models for the complex spatial setting and full colouration of the Master of the Ehningen Altarpiece’s Annunciation scene on the closed view of this triptych.

7 The bibliography on Netherlandish grisaille is too extensive to include here, but bibliography can be found in Borchert, Jan Van Eyck: Grisallas, and Jacobs, Opening Doors. 8 On Bouts’s grisailles see Krieger, ‘Zur Grisaillemalerei’. On the Pearl of Brabant, see Périer-D’Ieteren, Dieric Bouts, pp. 314–323, which outlines the controversies over the attribution of this work, and attributes the work to Bouts and his workshop. Schawe, Alte Pinakothek, p. 300, attributes the work to Dieric Bouts himself.

97

98 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 2.4. Dieric Bouts and Workshop, Sts. Catherine and Barbara, exterior of the Pearl of Brabant, c. 1465, Alte Pinakothek, Munich (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Alte Pinakothek, Munich/Art Resource, NY).

In one sense, the Master of the Ehningen Altarpiece’s Resurrection Triptych could be the poster child for the strength of the inf luence of Netherlandish art on the art of German-speaking regions in the second half of the f ifteenth century. Indeed, in the Swabia and Upper Rhine section of the catalogue of the Van Eyck to Dürer exhibition, the Resurrection Triptych was cited as ‘perhaps the most striking case of the wholesale borrowing of Netherlandish compositions’.9 While this claim is not incorrect, it does not capture the whole story here, largely 9 Borchert, Van Eyck to Dürer, p. 282.

Tr ansparent Boundaries

because the catalogue does not consider (nor does it illustrate) the triptych’s exterior. Certainly, the exterior still speaks to the borrowing of Netherlandish compositions insofar as it derives from Boutsian Annunciations. But the exterior also marks a major dissimilarity with the traditions that governed the early Netherlandish triptych from its beginnings in the works of Campin and Van Eyck, which were still maintained into the later decades of the fifteenth century by Bouts and his shop.10 While most scholarly eyes have focused on how deeply the Master of the Ehningen Altarpiece was steeped in Netherlandish influences, specif ically the inf luence of Bouts, the ways in which this German master remained independent of Netherlandish traditions are critically important for understanding German f ifteenth-century triptychs, yet have not been given suff icient recognition.11

The Absence of Grisaille on German Triptych Exteriors Fifteenth-century triptychs in German-speaking regions consistently do not include the same kinds of grisaille imagery on their exteriors that were quite consistently found on the exteriors of Netherlandish triptychs of the time. 12 Indeed, works produced in the period from around 1440–1475 in the Southern German region where the Resurrection Triptych was produced show a distinctly different taste for very colourful, rather than monochromatic, exterior imagery. Unfortunately, in many cases, multi-panel works from this period were taken apart and no longer remain in their present condition, leaving the exact format of the original obscure. A work produced in Bavaria, the Adoration of the Magi in Passau, for example, was once the right wing of a folding altarpiece, of which the left wing and centre are now lost; whether the centre was painted or sculpted is unknown.13 When closed, the retable depicted the Annunciation: the reverse of 10 On the early grisaille model in Van Eyck and Campin, see Jacobs, Opening Doors, pp. 34–40 and pp. 62–65. The notion that the grisaille exterior derives specifically from Van Eyck, rather than Campin, is discussed in Kemperdick, ‘Abstraktion und Mimesis’, p. 18. 11 The lack of grisaille in German triptychs has, however, been noted and discussed by Kemperdick, ‘I tableau’, pp. 121–122; Kemperdick, ‘Abstraktion und Mimesis’, p. 16; and Krieger, ‘Grünewald und die Kunst’, p. 61. 12 This is not to say that Netherlandish grisaille did not undergo changes over the course of the fifteenth century, as is discussed below and in note 27. However, viewed more generally, Netherlandish fifteenthcentury triptych exteriors, throughout the fifteenth century, for the most part, present grisaille imagery that refers to sculpture, and hence differ significantly from the way that German triptych exteriors are conceived. 13 Borchert, Van Eyck to Dürer, p. 378, which states that the work likely had a sculpted corpus in its centre. For an illustration, see Borchert, Van Eyck to Dürer, p. 379.

99

100 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 2.5. Master of the Polling Panels, Annunciation, outside of the left panel of a Marian altarpiece, 1444, Alte Pinakothek, Munich (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Alte Pinakothek, Munich/Art Resource, NY).

Tr ansparent Boundaries

the Adoration of the Magi depicts the Virgin Annunciate, and hence the left wing must have shown the Angel Gabriel. The Virgin Annunciate (and presumably Gabriel as well in the missing panel) appears in full colour, just as bright as the colours of the Adoration of the Magi on the other side of the panel, that is, on the interior of the triptych. Moreover, the Virgin Annunciate is situated within a fully spatial environment, not in a narrow niche. Another Bavarian Master, the Master of the Polling Panels, whose workshop was in Munich, also created extremely colourful Marian scenes for the exterior of his altarpieces. For example, the Annunciation in Munich (Fig. 2.5) once formed part of the exterior of a 1444 Marian altarpiece at Polling, which had relief sculpture on its interior wings (now lost) and presumably three-dimensional sculptures in its central shrine.14 In this work, Mary is clad in a deep blue robe, the angel in a gilded brocaded one. The vaulted ceiling is blue with gold stars and outfitted with red and gold ribs, with the floor painted a dark red. Gabriel’s wings are pink with darker reddish-brown colouration at the edges and the back wall is a pale blue. The furniture and ceiling of the adjacent room are rendered largely in wood tones. All in all, the colours of this and other panels that the Master of the Polling Panels painted for the exteriors of his altarpieces read as remarkably strong and bright, not muted or coloristically reduced in any way. To be sure, Netherlandish carved altarpieces (as opposed to Netherlandish painted triptychs) did not normally incorporate grisaille on their exteriors; 15 thus German triptychs that combined sculpted interiors with painted exteriors were similar to their Netherlandish counterparts in their inclusion of coloured exteriors. The divergence in the approach to and uses of grisaille between the two regions occurred almost exclusively within the painted triptych format.

Gabriel Angler’s Grisailles The independence of German artists from Netherlandish traditions with regard to triptych exteriors, as well as the treatment of grisaille in general, is particularly evident in the case of another Munich artist, a mid-fifteenth-century contemporary of the Master of the Polling Panels, Gabriel Angler.16 This artist, once identified as the Master of the Tegernsee Altar, was responsible for what is believed to have 14 On this work, see Schawe, Alte Pinakothek, p. 218, which notes that the reverses of these wings retain the contours of lost relief sculptures. On this artist, see Borchert, Van Eyck to Dürer, pp. 345–346 and pp. 361–363. 15 Jacobs, Early Netherlandish Carved Altarpieces, p. 112 and p. 196. 16 On this artist, see Möhring, Tegernseer Altarretabel, and Borchert, Van Eyck to Dürer, pp. 63–64 and pp. 347–348.

101

102 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

been the most expensive altarpiece produced in Germany in the fifteenth century, the altarpiece for the high altar of the Frauenkirche in Munich, a work that cost the stunning sum of 2275 Rhenish florins.17 The significance and expense of this commission was such that the artist actually travelled to Venice in 1433 to purchase pigments for the work.18 With the unfortunate loss of this work, and presumably many others by this artist, the only works by Angler surviving today are the two produced for the Benedictine monastery of Tegernsee, the richest monastery in Bavaria. One of these is a triptych altarpiece, the so-called Tabula Magna, which was made for the high altar of the monastery’s church. This altarpiece—now divided between churches and museums in Munich, Nuremberg, Bad Feilnbach, and Berlin—likely was completed around 1445, in time for the 1446 celebration of the Tegernsee cloister’s celebration of its 700th anniversary.19 Its interior, which consists entirely of painted panels, has a single scene on each panel. As such, it no longer presents a triptych interior divided into multiple compartments, the format used in the Westphalian works of the first decades of the fifteenth century studied in Chapter One. But since the Tabula Magna was an especially monumental altarpiece, the triptych was constructed, somewhat unusually, in two tiers of three scenes, so that the top tier, as reconstructed by Helmut Möhring, depicts the Crucifixion in the centre, with the Nailing of Christ to the Cross in the left wing and the Resurrection in the right wing; the bottom tier has the Carrying of the Cross in the centre with the Agony in the Garden in the left wing and the Disrobing of Christ on the right (Fig. 2.6).20 The exterior is devoted to four scenes from the legends of the life of St. Quirin, the titular saint of the cloister, whose relics were preserved there.21 The exterior of this altarpiece, though damaged, clearly does not incorporate grisaille imagery. Thus, for example, the scene of the Assassination of Philippus Arabus, the legendary father of Quirin (Fig. 2.7), while certainly dominated by the white curtains of the tent, includes a deep red at the top of the tent, renders the soldiers’ armour in blue-grey, and has greens and browns in the recessive landscape that runs behind the scene.22 The Beheading of St. Quirin on the Tibur 17 On the costs of the altarpiece, see Möhring, Tegernseer Altarretabel, pp. 14–17, which notes it was the most expensive altarpiece in fifteenth-century Germany. 18 The documentation and dating of this trip are discussed in Möhring, Tegernseer Altarretabel, p. 15. 19 On this altarpiece, see Möhring, Tegernseer Altarretabel, pp. 24–88; Möhring, ‘Betrachtungen zu Tabula Magna’, and Suckale, Süddeutsche szenische Tafelbilder, pp. 76–84. 20 On the reconstructions of the Tabula Magna, see Möhring, Tegernseer Altarretabel, pp. 27–38. This reconstruction, in which the Crucifixion appears in the top register, was supported by Suckale, Süddeutsche szenische Tafelbilder, p. 76, note 45, and follows that of Stange, Deutsche Malerei, vol. 10, p. 64. The opposing reconstruction, which places the Carrying of the Cross on the top register, was maintained by Liedke, ‘Münchner Tafelmalerei’, p. 10, and Feuchtmayr, Anfänge, p. 31. 21 On the relics in the monastery, see, for example, Schawe, Alte Pinakothek, p. 74. 22 Möhring, Tegernseer Altarretabel, pp. 44–45, argues for this identification of the scene and against its identification as the assassination of the Moabite king Eglon by Ehud, which was proposed, for example,

Tr ansparent Boundaries

Fig. 2.6. Reconstruction of Gabriel Angler, Tabula Magna, open, as reconstructed by Helmut Möhring (Illustration by Martin Schapiro).

(Fig. 2.8) is particularly colourful, with the executioner clad in red and blue, and the emperor clad in equally colourful garb. Quirin himself wears a lavender robe and blue tights. This scene boasts a particularly spacious and vibrant landscape. In this way, Angler’s Tabula Magna exterior bears virtually no relationship to the exteriors of Netherlandish painted triptychs produced around mid-century, which nearly always depicted grisaille images of pseudo-sculptures placed in niches or within restricted spatial settings.23 in Feuchtmayr, Anfänge, p. 31. 23 There are actually a limited number of examples of Netherlandish grisaille exteriors from around 1450, due to a lack of interest in grisaille by the main master working in the Netherlands in the mid-century, Rogier van der Weyden; nevertheless, Rogier did include pseudo-sculptural grisaille in his Beaune and Braque Triptychs, and hence the Eyckian tradition continued into the second half of the century. On Rogier’s lack of interest in grisaille, see Jacobs, pp. Opening Doors, 88–92, and Kemperdick, ‘I tableau’, pp. 123–124, who suggests this may relate to issues of patronage.

103

104 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 2.7. Gabriel Angler, Assassination of Philippus Arabus, exterior of the Tabula Magna, 1444–1445, Gemäldegalerie, Staatliche Museen, Berlin (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Gemäldegalerie, Staatliche Museen, Berlin/Jörg P. Anders/Art Resource, NY).

Tr ansparent Boundaries

Fig. 2.8. Gabriel Angler, Beheading of St. Quirin, exterior of the Tabula Magna, 1444–1445, Bayerisches Nationalmuseum, Munich (Photo: © Bayerisches Nationalmuseum, Munich Foto-Nr. D163988 Weniger, Dr. Matthias Inv.-Nr. L 10/215).

105

106 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 2.9. Gabriel Angler, Crucifixion, interior of the Tabula Magna, 1444–1445, Germanisches Nationalmuseum, Nuremberg, Gm 1055 (Photo: © Germanisches Nationalmuseum, Foto: Georg Janßen).

Angler’s autonomy from the Netherlandish traditions of triptych design extends also to his handling of the colouration of his triptych interiors. On the interior of the Tabula Magna, Angler highlights figures in the immediate foreground by rendering them in more monochromatic tones. Thus, for example, in the Crucifixion (Fig. 2.9), the pairs of male figures at the far left and right, and the group of holy women as well as the executioner right behind them—all placed very close to the front of the picture plane—are rendered largely in white or yellowish-white colouration.24 Similarly, in the Agony in the Garden (Fig. 2.10), Christ and the two sleeping apostles in the foreground are depicted in white, or pinkish-white garments, as opposed 24 One exception here is the red lining included within some sections of Veronica’s robe, and frames her sudarium, clearly with symbolic intent. In addressing the monochrome figures in the foreground of the interior scenes of the Tabula Magna, it should be noted that Fisch, ‘Beobachtungen zur “Tabula Magna”’, p. 186, argues that the white colour on these figures is actual white underpainting, which has lost coloured glazes that originally were on top, and hence the figures in their original state were not in fact monochrome. However, Möhring, Tegernseer Altarretabel, p. 32, note 78, argues against Fisch’s claims. Indeed, the consistency of the use of monochrome in the foreground seems to be more than just a matter of preservation. Möhring, ‘Betrachtungen zu Tabula Magna’, p. 141, sees white as a colour that signals that the figure is a saint and compensates for the lack of haloes here, but in fact not all the figures in the foreground, and painted in monochromatic colours here are saintly figures.

Tr ansparent Boundaries

Fig. 2.10. Gabriel Angler, Agony in the Garden, interior of the Tabula Magna, 1444–1445, Bayerisches Nationalmuseum, Munich (Photo: © Bayerisches Nationalmuseum, Munich Foto-Nr. D163982 Weniger, Dr. Matthias Inv.-Nr. L 10/213).

to the more colourful elements elsewhere in the scene. The apostle behind Christ wears darker pink robes, lined with deep blue; Judas’s robes are a deeper yellow and his money bag a strong red. Hence, the apostle in pink, Judas, and the soldiers in their steel armour stand out against the paler figures in the front. The inclusion of more monochrome elements in the foreground of the interior scenes makes Angler’s altarpiece overall seem more colourful on its exterior than on its interior, the exact opposite of the colour relations in Netherlandish triptychs of the same time.25

25 The more colourful nature of the exterior has been noted by Mohring, Tegernseer Altarretabel, pp. 32–33, and Suckale, Süddeutsche szenische Tafelbilder, p. 77.

107

108 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Angler’s monochromatic f igures in the Tabula Magna interior differ from Netherlandish grisailles on triptych exteriors because Angler’s monochromes are not presented as pseudo-sculptures.26 Grisaille can take a number of forms, but on Netherlandish triptych exteriors—from the early decades until the last quarter of the fifteenth century—it largely took the form of illusionistic sculpture.27 But the monochrome figures in the foreground of Angler’s Tabula Magna in no way appear to simulate sculptures: they have coloured hair and flesh-toned skin, and their poses and movements are not restricted to what might be possible within a block of stone. Rather, they appear instead simply as living figures clad in white robes. In this way, they are somewhat closer to the demi-grisailles that appear in Netherlandish art, perhaps first in Hans Memling’s Jan Crabbe Triptych of c. 1467–1470. On Memling’s exterior, the Annunciation scene is acted out by figures that have the same flesh tones, coloured hair, and whitish-grey garb as Angler’s monochrome f igures.28 But Memling’s f igures still have stronger connections to sculptures due to their placement on pedestals within niches, as well as their relatively stiff poses; as a result, they look like statues that have partially come to life, or are in the process of coming to life.29 By contrast, Angler’s monochrome 26 Kemperdick, ‘Abstraktion und Mimesis’, pp. 16–24, draws a distinction between three types of grisaille: 1) that in Pucelle and other Franco-Flemish miniatures around 1400, which is similar to drawing; 2) the illusionistic sculpture grisaille developing in Netherlandish panel painting in the second quarter of the fifteenth century; and 3) the more pictorial grisaille developing in mid-century Flemish manuscripts and coming into panel painting around 1500, which represents the world in gradations of grey and corresponds to a black and white photograph. Both types one and three represent a pictorial monochrome—which differs from the idea of pseudo-sculptural grisaille—and the difference between them, other than temporal, is not fully clear to me. 27 On pseudo-sculpture in Netherlandish grisaille in the first half of the fifteenth century, see Jacobs, Opening Doors, esp. pp. 34–40 and pp. 62–65, and Kemperdick, ‘Abstraktion und Mimesis’, esp. pp. 18–21 and pp. 25–39. Some scholars have noted that Netherlandish grisaille of the first half of the fifteenth century is not concerned with a perfect imitation of sculpture: see, for example, Borchert, ‘Color Lapidum’, p. 245, Wiemann, ‘Zur monochromen Bildgestaltung’, pp. 131–132. However, the sculptural mode was the dominant mode of grisaille in Netherlandish triptychs up until the later part of the fifteenth century, when more colourful and pictorial exteriors became more common, as discussed in Jacobs, Opening Doors, pp. 152–158 and pp. 197–199. Kemperdick, ‘Helldunkel statt Farbe’, pp. 59–61, discusses ways in which painters made pseudo-sculptures more sculptural than actual sculptures to be sure they would be recognized as sculptures. 28 Philippot, ‘Grisaille et les “degrés de réalité”’, pp. 232–234, links Memling’s demi-grisailles to Angler’s Crucifixion. It is certainly possible, given that Memling is believed to come from Seligenstadt in Hessen, Germany, that Memling’s demi-grisailles were derived from sources in German monochromatic grisaille, but Angler’s grisaille forms are quite different than Memling’s. Whether Memling saw the works of Angler in Bavaria is not known. 29 On demi-grisaille, see Jacobs, Opening Doors, pp. 155–156, pp. 198–199, and pp. 226–227; and Jacobs, Thresholds and Boundaries, pp. 155–56. The notion of demi-grisaille or semi-grisaille within images of the Annunciation forming a reference to the process of Incarnation has been raised by Liess, Zum Logos, vol. 1, p. 165, and Marrow, ‘Illusionism and Paradox’, pp. 165–166.

Tr ansparent Boundaries

f igures have never been anything other than living f igures who are placed, as pictorially rendered monochromes (not illusionistic sculpture), within a fully spatial scene and among other fully coloured f igures. Angler’s Tabula Magna thus exemplifies the use of colour on the exterior of German triptychs as well as Angler’s understanding of pictorial monochrome (an alternative to Netherlandish pseudo-sculptural grisaille and even to Netherlandish demi-grisaille)—while also demonstrating Angler’s willingness to use pictorial monochrome on the interior of his triptychs (and not on the exterior). While this type of pictorial monochrome is a somewhat limited overall within the Tabula Magna, it is the dominant feature of the other surviving work by Angler, his remarkable grisaille Crucifixion. Angler’s Crucifixion (Fig. 2.11) is believed to be an altarpiece originally placed on the choir screen in the church at the Benedictine monastery in Tegernsee. Hence, when Angler’s work for the monastery was complete, the Crucifixion altarpiece (which likely was completed first, c. 1440, about five years before the Tabula Magna) would have been on the screen that stood in front of the choir and in front of the high altar on which the Tabula Magna was placed.30 The choir screen altarpiece depicts the Crucifixion flanked by saints whose relics were owned by the monastery (Quirin, Kastor, and Chrysogonus) as well as Koloman.31 This work may have been cut down, since there is a channel to the right of the column at the right not present at the left; whether the altarpiece originally was a single-panel work or had wings and hence was a triptych cannot be known since its original frame no longer exists.32 But what is clear is that the surviving panel is rendered almost entirely in pictorial monochrome. Indeed, Angler’s Crucifixion is a tour de force of pictorial monochrome painting. The artist renders the figures with flesh tones, some ruddier (e.g., the good thief), some paler (e.g., Veronica).33 Their robes have a monochrome colouration that is more ochre than greyish, and their hair is brown or golden in colour. Throughout the scene there are touches of colour, including the red blood of Christ’s wounds, the greenish colour of the ground, and the gold used for the crowns of some figures, the spurs of the riders, and the bells on the horses. The fluidity of the poses, the 30 On the date of the Crucifixion, see Möhring, Tegernseer Altarretabel, pp. 110–117. 31 Koloman was likely included because he was important for the Melk reform, which had an important impact on the abbey. On the Melk reform and the Tegernsee monastery, see Möhring, Tegernseer Altarretabel, pp. 141–158. 32 No mention of the panel being cut down is made in Salm and Goldberg, Altdeutsche Malerei, p. 152, although it is noted that the panel was cut in half, likely to facilitate transport. Schawe, Alte Pinakothek, p. 74, also does not state that the painting was cut down. Möhring, Tegernseer Altarretabel, pp. 109–110, says there is no evidence that the panel had wings, but without an original frame it is difficult to have such evidence. 33 The variety of the monochrome tones here is emphasized by Möhring, Tegernseer Altarretabel, p. 97.

109

110 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 2.11. Gabriel Angler, Crucifixion, c. 1440, Alte Pinakothek, Munich (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Alte Pinakothek, Munich/Art Resource, NY).

strong foreshortening of the horses, and the thinness and suppleness of the drapery all give the imagery the character of pictorial representations, not simulations of stone sculptures. Even the four saints at the sides do not look like sculptures: although they are standing on pedestals, their poses seem too relaxed and fluid, their drapery too soft, the colouration of their garments and skin too warm for them to be sculptures, or to ever have been sculptures.34 Angler was certainly capable of producing grisailles that simulate stone, since he did achieve the effect of stone in his rendering of the architectural framework that surrounds this scene. This framework, which incorporates columns, tracery, foliate decoration, and figural sculptures—unlike the rest of the panel—is painted more in the pseudosculptural form of grisaille seen in Netherlandish art. Most likely this framework was handled differently so that it would coordinate (if only in a general way) with the architectural forms and decoration of the actual stone choir screen before which it was placed.35 The inclusion of this simulated stone architectural frame 34 Here I disagree with Wiemann, ‘Zur monochromen Bildgestaltung’, p. 135, who sees the saints here as imitations of sculpture. Although the placement on pedestals does make a slight allusion to standing sculptures, there is otherwise very little attempt at imitating the sculptural medium. 35 Heiden, Alte Pinakethek, pp. 94–96, and Kemperdick, ‘First Generation’, p. 63. Möhring, Tegernseer Altarretabel, pp. 117–118, believes that the painting was conceived separately from the choir screen,

Tr ansparent Boundaries

here demonstrates that Angler was easily able to work in two forms of grisaille, both the pseudo-sculptural and the pictorial, but that he reserved the pseudo-sculptural mode for representations of architecture and architectural sculpture, not for the kinds of depictions of seemingly free-standing sculptures that dominated the exteriors of Netherlandish triptychs. There has been much debate over the sources for Angler’s use of grisaille. Typically in light of Angler’s 1433 visit to Venice, and the Italianate quality of the foreshortened horses in the Crucifixion (Fig. 2.11), scholars have linked Angler’s grisailles to precedents in Italian Trecento art, such as Giotto.36 But Italian Trecento grisailles, which typically were found in fresco, lack the painterly character of the main f igurative section of Angler’s Crucifixion altarpiece.37 While elements of this painting were certainly influenced by Italian art, the pictorial monochrome likely was not derived from this source. Other grisaille traditions, be it that in French illumination around 1400 (e.g., Jean Pucelle) or that on exteriors of Netherlandish triptychs of the 1430s and 1440s, also do not have the same coloristic or pictorial character of Angler’s grisailles.38 Perhaps the closest precedent for Angler’s grisailles is found in Cistercian grisaille stained glass windows, particularly the tradition of ‘silbergelb’, which arose around 1300, in which shades of black and grey were intermixed with areas of yellow, a colour scheme similar to that found in Angler’s Crucifixion.39 But the painterly character and hence the architecture in the painting does not correspond to a real architectural structure, but corresponds more to the forms of architecture represented in Netherlandish painting. 36 On the documentation for and dating of Angler’s trip to Italy, see Möhring, Tegernseer Altarretabel, p. 15. Links between Angler and Italy are discussed by Möhring, Tegernseer Altarretabel, pp. 166 and pp. 168–194; Möhring, ‘Betrachtungen zu Tabula Magna’, p. 139; Liedke, ‘Münchner Tafelmalerei’, pp. 30–32; Wiemann, ‘Zur monochrome Bildgestaltung’, p. 134; Kemperdick, ‘First Generation’, p. 63; and Heiden, Alte Pinakothek, pp. 96–97. 37 On Italian grisaille, see Kraft, ‘Problem der Grisaille-Malerei’, and Dittelbach, Monochrome Wandegemälde. Blumenröder, ‘Andrea Mantegna’s Grisaille Paintings’ and Blumenröder, Andrea Mantegna: Die Grisaillen consider Mantegna’s grisailles of the 1460s (which are too late to be a source for Angler) in the context of Italian Trecento grisaille. Blumenröder, ‘Andrea Mantegna’s Grisaille Paintings’, pp. 48–51, links Mantegna’s use of grisaille to a desire to communicate a sense of the distant past. She generally sees Netherlandish fifteenth-century examples as influences on Mantegna; see Blumenröder, ‘Andrea Mantegna’s Grisaille Paintings’, p. 46, and Blumenröder, Andrea Mantegna: Die Grisaillen, pp. 201–207. 38 The main traditions of grisaille from that in French art around 1400 (Pucelle and others), in Netherlandish imitation sculpture beginning c. 1430, and in Netherlandish illumination after mid-century (which is too late to influence Angler) are summarized in Borchert, ‘Color Lapidum’, and Kemperdick, ‘Abstraktion und Mimesis’. While Kemperdick, ‘First Generation’, p. 63, sees Jan van Eyck’s Ghent Altarpiece (Fig. 2.36)— which combines figures in natural colours with monochrome garments and simulated statues—as the main source for Angler’s grisaille, the nature of Angler’s grisaille painting differs significantly from that of Van Eyck. On Pucelle’s grisaille in particular, see Charron, ‘Color, Grisaille’. 39 On stained glass of this form, see Burger, ‘Grisaille in der Glasmalerei’ and Lymant Glasmalereien, p. 77.

111

112 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

of Angler’s Crucifixion is not found there as well, and hence his artistic sources remain uncertain. In addition, the motivations for Angler’s choice of grisaille for the Crucifixion remain unclear. Some have suggested that the work’s grisaille colouration was meant to coordinate visually with the stone choir screen on which it hung, so that the use of grisaille here would stem from the work’s specific function as a choir screen altarpiece. 40 Others have argued that its reduced colouration provides a quality of modesty and humility that represents a response to the Melk reform, an important Benedictine fifteenth-century movement centred at the monastery at Melk, but which had a strong influence on religious life in the monastery at Tegernsee. 41 Regardless of the formal sources for, or contextual reasons behind the choice of grisaille here, the type of pictorial monochrome found within the Crucifixion is unprecedented within German painting. Moreover, it precedes by several decades the inclusion of pictorial monochrome within Netherlandish panel painting, notably in the works of Hieronymus Bosch. 42 So Angler’s Crucifixion stands as a remarkable and unique example of a panel painting which—at a time when Netherlandish triptychs were limited to pseudo-sculptural grisailles on their exteriors—incorporated two forms of grisaille, both illusionistic grisaille and pictorial monochrome, within a work that formed either a single-panel altarpiece or a triptych interior. 43 In the Resurrection triptych by the Master of the Ehningen Altarpiece, the triptych exterior (Fig. 2.2), which is rendered in full colour, does include a small section of pseudo-sculptural grisaille: the sculpted Fall of Man tympanum which appears above Gabriel in the right panel. This artist, then, like Angler, was fully capable of painting pictorial representations that simulated sculptures in the manner that Netherlandish artists used on triptych exteriors. But the Master of the Ehningen Altarpiece nevertheless limited the use of grisaille on this exterior to the embedding of a typological reference to original sin within architectural sculpture in the room where the Annunciation scene was enacted. 44 The main 40 See, for example, Stange, Deutsche Malerei, vol. 10, pp. 66–67, and Schawe, Alte Pinakothek, p. 74. 41 On the relation of the use of grisaille here to the context of reform at Tegernsee, see Möhring, Tegernseer Altarretabel, p. 119, who also notes that there was a mourning zone in the space before the choir screen; and Kemperdick, ‘First Generation’, p. 63. It should be noted that Krause, ‘Material, Farbe’, p. 173, disputes the notion that grisaille should be seen in relation to humility and to Lenten function given that Lenten veils can be strongly coloured. Itzel, ‘Stein trügt’, p. 163, discusses concerns in Tegernsee about the role of images that might relate to the rise of grisaille, but these date to a period after the Angler Crucifixion. 42 On the rise of pictorial monochrome in Bosch, see Jacobs, Opening Doors, pp. 197–199. 43 Möhring, Tegernseer Altarretabel, pp. 109–110, and Möhring, ‘Betrachtungen zu Tabula Magna’, p. 138, think it was wingless. 44 The theme of original sin, of course, is of relevance for the theme of the Annunciation, which is the moment of beginning of the Incarnation, which provided the theological mechanism for the release from

Tr ansparent Boundaries

Annunciation scene itself, as discussed above, is enacted by seemingly living beings, not simulated sculpted figures. Thus despite being fully aware of the practice within Netherlandish triptychs, and despite being fully capable of executing illusionistic grisaille, the Ehningen Altarpiece Master and other German fifteenth-century painters did not employ grisaille on the exterior of their triptychs. Nevertheless, there were some triptychs produced in the German-speaking regions that did. These exceptions, surprisingly, demonstrate not the dependence of German triptychs on Netherlandish uses of grisaille, but further exemplify the independence of German uses of grisaille and the unique role grisaille could play within the German triptych tradition.

The Presence of Grisaille on the Exteriors of German Fifteenth- and Early Sixteenth-Century Triptychs Some rare German fifteenth-century triptychs follow the Netherlandish model of depicting pseudo-sculptural grisailles on their exteriors. Two such exteriors that, at least at first glance, seem to be fully aligned with Netherlandish traditions of grisaille, are found in the oeuvre of the Master of the Saint Bartholomew Altarpiece, a master whose triptychs form the focus of Chapter Four. 45 The Bartholomew Master’s Holy Cross Triptych of c. 1490–1495 (Fig. 4.7) and his St. Thomas Triptych of c. 1495–1500 (Fig. 4.12) both have fully grisaille exteriors, which present figures as pseudo-sculptures in settings of limited depth. Thus, for example, on the exterior of the Holy Cross Triptych (Fig. 4.7)—which depicts the Angel Gabriel and the Annunciate Virgin with Sts. Peter and Paul above them (respectively)—the consistently grey tonalities, thick edges of the drapery, and the relatively static poses of the figures all convey the effect of sculptural representations. In addition, the Virgin and Gabriel stand on pedestals and cast shadows on the stone wall behind them in the manner of stone sculptures. The exterior of the St. Thomas Triptych (Fig. 4.12) shows images of two female saints and their many sons, again with monochrome tonalities, thick drapery edges, and static poses that generally simulate sculpture. The saints even stand on pedestals inscribed with their names. The appearance of such Netherlandish, pseudo-sculptural forms of grisaille on these triptychs could be explained by the Bartholomew Master’s purported origins, training, and/or even shop location in the Northern Netherlands original sin. 45 On this Master’s grisailles, see Krieger, ‘Skulptur als Thema’, and Wiemann, ‘Zur monochromen Bildgestaltung’, p. 135, who claims that the Master of the Saint Bartholomew Altarpiece was the only German master imitating sculpture.

113

114 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

(an issue to be considered more fully in Chapter Four). But the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece’s grisaille exteriors differ in many ways from the standard Netherlandish type. No Netherlandish grisaille exteriors that attempt to retain the illusion of sculpture have such complex compositions, such as the bizarre placement of apostles perched on branches above the Annunciation in the Holy Cross Triptych or the excessive multitude of figures placed on the pedestal on the St. Thomas Triptych, far more than one could imagine in a real sculpture. All these elements (and others, to be discussed in Chapter Four) contradict the illusion of sculpture in ways that Netherlandish artists were unwilling to do within their pseudo-sculptural grisailles. 46 The Bartholomew Master’s grisaille exteriors thus stand not as wholesale adoptions of Netherlandish traditions, but as idiosyncratic interpretations of them. 47 One German triptych that does adopt the Netherlandish model is by Bartolomäus Bruyn, a Cologne artist active in the first half of the sixteenth century who was strongly influenced by Netherlandish artists, especially Joos van Cleve. 48 His triptychs often incorporated grisaille on their exteriors. In one case, the Coronation of the Virgin of c. 1515 in Smith College, the exterior Annunciation scene (Fig. 2.12) is unquestionably conceived as an illusionistic sculpture. Both figures stand in shallow niches, and while the angel’s pose is a bit more activated than one might expect in sculpture, the thickness of the draperies, the blockiness of the Virgin’s book, and the static nature of the Virgin’s pose all give an overall impression of sculpture. Nevertheless, most of Bruyn’s triptych exteriors that include grisaille employ the more pictorial monochrome form typical within German sixteenth-century art, discussed below. 49 46 Netherlandish artists did at times contradict the illusion of sculpture in their pseudo-sculptural grisailles, but in much more limited ways: see, for example, Jacobs, Opening Doors, p. 63. 47 Indeed, this Master’s triptychs appear at the very tail end of the f ifteenth century, hence about 70 years after the format had been first articulated in the Netherlands, at a time when Netherlandish artists themselves were more and more frequently turning to pictorial alternatives to the earlier type of pseudo-sculptural grisaille in their triptychs. 48 On Bruyn’s links and friendship with Joos van Cleve, with whom he worked in the shop of Jan Joest, see Hand, Joos van Cleve, p. 16; Zehnder, Altkölner Malerei, p. 24; and Tümmers, Altarbilder des Älteren Bartholomäus Bruyn, p. 12. 49 For example, the Crucifixion Triptych of c. 1515–1520 in Munich has Sts. Heinrich and Helena on its exterior. On this work, see Schawe, Alte Pinakothek, p. 93. The saints here are rendered in demi-grisaille with flesh-tones, coloured hair, and gilded crowns, although their clothes and armour are painted entirely in grey-tones. They do not stand on pedestals but are placed in niches that have a reddish stone colour. It should be noted that Bruyn also has full-colour exteriors, for example, his Lamentation Triptych in Munich has an exterior showing the bishop saints Kunibert and Suitbert who are portrayed in full colour, but placed in stone niches; on this work, see Schawe, Alte Pinakothek, p. 95. Also the Adoration of the Magi Triptych in the Kunstmuseum in Basel (c. 1525–1530) has a colour exterior; see Tümmers, Altarbilder des Älteren Bartholomäus Bruyn, pp. 72–73, A50–54.

Tr ansparent Boundaries

Fig. 2.12. Bartholomäus Bruyn the Elder, Annunciation, exterior of the Coronation of the Virgin Triptych, c. 1515; Purchased with the Hillyer-Tryon-Mather Fund; the Beatrice O. Chace, class of 1928, Fund; the Dorothy C. Miller, class of 1925, Fund; the Madeleine H. Russell, class of 1937, Fund, the Janet Wright Ketcham, class of 1953, Fund; the Margaret Walker Purinton Fund: the Carol Ramsay Chandler Fund; the fund in honour of Charles Chetham; the Katherine S. Pearce, class of 1915, Fund; and the Eva W. Nair Fund, Smith College Museum of Art, Northampton, MA (Photo: Smith College Museum of Art).

Aside from these examples, however, virtually no other German f ifteenthcentury triptychs have pseudo-sculptural grisaille forms on their exteriors. One fifteenth-century diptych has such an exterior: Hermen Rode’s Crucifixion and the Death of the Virgin, originally in the Holy Cross chapel in the Marienkirche in Lübeck, a work destroyed in World War II, but known from existing black and white photographs.50 This work’s exterior had an image of the crucified Christ with John the Evangelist and Mary on one side, and St. Jerome on the other (Fig. 2.13)—an image with an iconography that differs from the more historical imagery of the Crucifixion on its interior. The photograph indicates that this exterior was rendered in a sculptural form of grisaille, since the depth and volume of the folds look 50 On the Rode diptych, see Rasche, ‘Hermen Rodes Greveraden-Diptychon’, and Rasche, Studien zu Hermen Rode, pp. 181–192; I am indebted to Stephan Kemperdick for alerting me to this work.

115

116 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 2.13. Hermen Rode, Crucified Christ and St. Jerome, exterior of the Crucifixion and the Death of the Virgin Diptych, originally in the Holy Cross chapel, Marienkirche in Lübeck, destroyed in 1942 during World War II (Photo: Archiv Dr. Franz Stoedtner, c. 1920 © Bildarchiv Foto Marburg/Art Resource, NY).

more sculptural than pictorial, and the rendering of the f igural and the stone architectural elements within the scene look very similar in character. In this case, the choice of this specif ic mode of grisaille may reflect specif ications of the donors. This work was commissioned by the Greverade family, who had trade connections with the Netherlands, particularly with Bruges; Adolf Greverade, who was curate of the chapel where the diptych was placed, studied in Leuven.51 Moreover, Adolf or his brother Heinrich (exactly which brother is a matter of debate) also commissioned Hans Memling’s Passion Triptych, which had on its exterior

51 Rasche, ‘Hermen Rodes Greveraden-Diptychon’, p. 145.

Tr ansparent Boundaries

a grisaille Annunciation, largely in pseudo-sculptural grisaille.52 The Memling triptych likely did not influence Rode’s diptych, since it seems that although the altarpiece was completed in 1491, it probably did not arrive in Lübeck until much later because the funding for the foundation of the altar on which it may have been intended to be placed, in the St. Mary’s Chapel (the Greverade Chapel) in Lübeck Cathedral, was delayed until 1504.53 But the commission to Memling does in any case provide evidence of the patron’s interest in Netherlandish art, which could have motivated the choice of a Netherlandish type of grisaille for the exterior of Rode’s diptych.54 Another sign that the patron’s concerns, not the painter’s, were at issue here is that Rode does not seem to have used grisaille in any of his other works.55 In the early decades of the sixteenth century, however, grisaille, in the form of pictorial monochrome, sometimes developed in forms of demi- and semi-grisaille, did come to play a relatively important role on the exterior of German triptychs.56 One example is the so-called University Altarpiece by the workshop of the Apt Master, a work of c. 1513 (Fig. 2.14).57 The exterior of this work depicts Sts. Christopher and Margaret rendered here in semi-grisaille: the background is a deep red, and the figures have flesh tones in their face, hands, and feet, and colour in their hair. The drapery flutters in the air in ways that defy the thick, more stone-like character of its edges. Hans Holbein the Elder’s St. Sebastian Altarpiece of 1516 in Munich also has an Annunciation on its exterior.58 Here, the reference to sculpted figures is even less evident in light of the scene’s very recessive coloured setting. The figures and their clothing are fully pictorially rendered, with flesh tones and coloured hair, though there is an element of monochrome established through the depiction of both 52 For an illustration of the triptych’s exterior and on the question of its patronage, see Vos, Hans Memling, pp. 320–329, and also Borchert, ‘Some Observations on the Lübeck Altarpiece’, pp. 91–92, which notes that the circumstances of patronage are unclear. Rasche, ‘Hermen Rodes Greveraden-Diptychon’, p. 151, thinks the donor was probably Adolf Greverade, not his brother, Heinrich. The work’s interior is illustrated in Fig. 3.18. 53 The question of when Memling’s triptych arrived in Lübeck and where it was originally intended to be located, which are still open questions, are addressed in Hasse, Hans Memlings Lübecker Altarschrein, pp. 1–3, Vos, Hans Memling, p. 329, and Rasche, ‘Hermen Rodes Greveraden-Diptychon’, p. 140. 54 Rasche, ‘Hermen Rodes Greveraden-Diptychon’, p. 142, emphasizes donor’s input into the prevalence of Netherlandish elements within the Rode diptych. 55 The fullest study of Rode’s oeuvre is Rasche, Studien zu Hermen Rode. 56 I am using the term ‘demi-grisaille’ here to refer to images in which nearly everything is monochrome except for the flesh areas of the figures and colour in the hair, and using the term ‘semi-grisaille’ to refer to images, which have additional areas of colour beyond that in demi-grisaille, especially in the background. 57 On this work, see Schawe, Alte Pinakothek, p. 75 and p. 356. 58 On this work, see Schawe, Alte Pinakothek, p. 171 and p. 357, which illustrates the exterior Annunciation scene.

117

118 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 2.14. Workshop of the Apt Master, St. Christopher and Margaret, exterior of the University Altarpiece, c. 1513 or later, Alte Pinakothek, Munich (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Alte Pinakothek, Munich/Art Resource, NY).

Tr ansparent Boundaries

figures in white robes and through the placement of the figures behind an arched architectural opening that does simulate stone. One of the most famous grisaille exteriors from the early sixteenth century is that of the Heller Altarpiece of 1509–1512, which had a central interior scene portraying the Ascension and Coronation of the Virgin by Dürer, which was destroyed by fire in the eighteenth century; the rest of the work was not produced by Dürer’s own hand, including the exterior of the altarpiece’s wings, which were produced by Dürer’s workshop and depict, in the surviving sections, two Magi on the upper tier, and Sts. Peter, Paul, Thomas Aquinas, and Christopher on the lower tier (Fig 2.15).59 Although these figures are rendered in full monochrome tones, referred to by Dürer as ‘stone coloured’ (stainfarb), they do not have a strong illusion of simulated sculpture in part because of the recessive ground on which the figures stand, and in part because of the fluid and pictorial rendering of the forms, such as the feather plumes on the headdress of one of the Magi.60 But the pictorial approach to grisaille within German art reaches its apogee in the grisailles on what were likely the outer fixed wings of the Heller Altarpiece, painted by Grünewald c. 1509–1511, and depicting Sts. Laurence, Cyriakus, Elizabeth, and an unknown female saint.61 While Grünewald’s male saints stand on ledges inscribed with their names—the females stand on grassy surfaces, but within niches—none of them look like statues.62 The monochrome used to depict their clothing, hair, and flesh, is run through with subtle brown tones that give the f igures a sense of warmth and life. The robes flow and flutter like cloth; the fringes of Laurence’s garment have a fluffy quality, and the pages of his book ripple like parchment, not stone. The hair of the young female saint (Fig. 2.16) flows in a manner impossible to achieve in stone, as is the complex pleating of her garment. As with the Rode diptych, the inclusion of grisaille on the exterior of this altarpiece likely resulted from a request of the patron, Heller, rather than from decisions of the artists involved.63 This work was commissioned for placement in the Dominican church in Frankfurt, where a Netherlandish work with a demi-grisaille exterior, the Holy Kinship Triptych 59 There is a large bibliography on the Heller Altarpiece, but some particularly useful sources include, Anzelewsky, Albrecht Dürer: Malerische, pp. 221–228; Kutschbach, Albrecht Dürer, pp. 71–80; Schulz, Albrecht Dürer; and Decker, Dürer und Grünewald, with a reconstruction of the exterior, pp. 56–75. 60 Krieger, ‘Grünewald und die Kunst der Grisaille’, p. 62, also notes the non-sculptural aspect of these grisailles. 61 On these, see Krieger, ‘Grünewald und die Kunst der Grisaille’, pp. 61–66. The original arrangement of these panels is somewhat unclear; some theories are presented by Kutschbach, Albrecht Dürer, p. 73. 62 The pictorial aspects of Grünewald’s grisailles are emphasized by Krieger, ‘Grünewald und die Kunst der Grisaille’, pp. 64–65, and Markschies, ‘Monochrome and Grisaille’, p. 274. 63 Kutschbach, Albrecht Dürer, p. 74. For illustrations of the other Grünewald panels, see Mack-Andrick, Reuter, Mensger, and Wörner, Grünewald und seine Zeit, p. 133 and p. 137.

119

120 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 2.15. Workshop of Dürer and Grünewald, exterior of the Heller Altarpiece. Centre: Workshop of Dürer, Two Magi, Sts. Peter, Paul, Thomas Aquinas, and Christopher, Historisches Museum, Frankfurt am Main; upper left and right: Grünewald, Sts. Laurence and Cyriakus, Städel Museum, Frankfurt am Main; lower left and right: Grünewald, St. Elizabeth and Female Saint, Staatliche Kunsthalle, Karlsruhe (Photo: © akg-images).

by the Master of Frankfurt, was also present; the upper left of the four panels of this Netherlandish triptych’s exterior is illustrated in Fig 2.17.64 Heller may have wished his triptych to be consistent with the Netherlandish work already in situ.65 However, the German artists, especially Grünewald, took a distinctly more pictorial approach compared to the more sculptural demi-grisailles of the Netherlandish triptych located in that same church. Indeed, Grünewald’s conception of grisaille is completely independent of the Netherlandish demi-grisaille precedent. 64 For a discussion of this work, see Goddard, Master of Frankfurt, pp. 56–59 and p. 147, with an illustration of the whole exterior in Fig. 6. 65 Mack-Andrick, Reuter, Mensger, and Wörner, Grünewald und seine Zeit, p. 140, argues that Heller may have been inspired by the presence of the demi-grisailles of the Master of Frankfurt, as does Krause, ‘An der Grenze’, p. 230.

Tr ansparent Boundaries

Fig. 2.16. Mathias Grünewald, Unknown Female Saint, 1511–1512, Staatliche Kunsthalle, Karlsruhe (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Staatliche Kunsthalle, Karlsruhe/Wolfgang Pankoke/Art Resource, NY).

121

122 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 2.17. Master of Frankfurt, Sts. Agnes and Lucy, upper left panel of the exterior of the Holy Kinship Altarpiece, c. 1505, B0262 Historisches Museum, Frankfurt (Photo: © Historisches Museum, Frankfurt, Fotograf: Horst Ziegenfusz).

Tr ansparent Boundaries

The most striking and unusual use of grisaille within German painting is found in so-called Grey Passion of Hans Holbein the Elder (Figs. 2.18, 2.19).66 These consist of twelve Passion scenes, produced between 1494 and 1500, which formed the interior and exterior wings of an altarpiece whose centre is lost, but is believed by scholars to have once consisted of a carved Crucif ixion scene.67 If the centre indeed was sculpted, the inclusion of grisaille panels within the context of a combination painted and sculpted altarpiece would have been especially singular. All these grisailles employ the pictorial monochromatic form of grisaille, avoiding any trompe l’oeil simulation of sculpture. The f igures all have flesh tones and coloured hair, and are set into relatively spacious settings, sometimes including landscape elements or receding tile floors, and always avoiding niche backgrounds. The scenes even include some touches of colour, such as bluish-green backgrounds, green ground planes or bases of thrones, and brown colouration in the tiles and brocades. Moreover, the overall colouration of the grisaille is differentiated on the interior and exterior of the panels. The outer wings have much cooler tones with more blue-grey robes (Fig. 2.18), whereas the grisaille on the inner wings is warmer, with the robes more ochre in tonality (Fig. 2.19). In addition, the interior scenes are painted more atmospherically, so that the edges of the forms are softer and less hard-edged compared to those on the exterior. In this way, Holbein manipulates grisaille in ways not seen within Netherlandish traditions.68 Employing grisaille both on the exterior and interior of an altarpiece—a practice virtually unknown in the Netherlands69—Holbein creates a play between different tones of grisaille on both sides of his wings. In so doing, Holbein translates the Netherlandish contrast between grisaille exteriors and polychrome interiors 66 On the Grey Passion, see Beutler and Thiem, Hans Holbein, pp. 40–42; Weimann, Holbein Graue Passion in ihrer Zeit; and Weimann, Holbein Graue Passion. 67 Löcher, ‘Überlegungen zum verlorenen Schrein’, pp. 91–96, considers what the central shrine might have looked like and who the sculptor might have been; the author emphasizes the predominance of carved retables in positing the existence of a central carved shrine. 68 Here I differ from those who emphasize the influence of Netherlandish grisaille on Holbein. These include: Weimann, Holbein Graue Passion, pp. 68–81, who cites the influence of the Netherlands, especially of Bouts on Holbein, as well as the influence of Schongauer—but also notes that Holbein’s work is not related to Netherlandish demi-grisaille and could also have a source in Angler’s work. Beutler and Thiem, Hans Holbein, p. 42, see the roots of Holbein’s grisailles in Netherlandish art, although they do recognize that Holbein exceeds Netherlandish grisaille in aim and effect, and that Holbein’s grisailles transcend the imitation of sculpture. Wiemann, Holbein Graue Passion, pp. 69–71, also emphasizes how Holbein’s grisailles differ from Netherlandish demi-grisailles and suggests that Holbein could have been inspired instead by partially polychromed sculpture or that the donor specified this type of colouring or wanted something unique or exquisite. 69 Bosch’s Rotterdam wings form a Netherlandish example in which both sides of the shutters were similarly in grisaille; on this work, see Jacobs, Opening Doors, p. 197.

123

124 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 2.18. Hans Holbein the Elder, Crowning with Thorns, exterior of the Grey Passion, 1494–1500, Staatsgalerie, Stuttgart (Photo: © Staatsgalerie Stuttgart).

into a contrast between cooler and warmer forms of grisaille. This creates a subtler contrast and sophisticated interlinking of exterior and interior. Indeed, some have argued that the primary focus of Holbein’s use of grisaille and materials here was to evoke costliness and exquisiteness.70 To be sure, in the absence of the work’s central 70 Wiemann, Holbein Graue Passion, pp. 81–82, and Krieger, ‘Grünewald und die Kunst’, p. 61, emphasize elements of costliness in Holbein’s approach to grisaille as well as the actual materials used in these panels.

Tr ansparent Boundaries

Fig. 2.19. Hans Holbein the Elder, Christ Before Pilate, interior of the Grey Passion, 1494–1500, Staatsgalerie, Stuttgart (Photo: © Staatsgalerie Stuttgart).

panel, the full interplay of the colouration of wings and centre is unknown, as is the relevance of these grisaille panels for the format of the fully painted triptych. Nevertheless, the Holbein Grey Passion exemplifies the very different approach to grisaille and the very different role that grisaille played within German art compared to Netherlandish art of the f ifteenth and early sixteenth century.71 71 One other unusual form of grisaille within German triptychs is Hans Holbein the Elder’s 1509 Hohenburger Triptych in Prague, which has inner wings that give the appearance of grisaille drawings;

125

126 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Indeed, Holbein’s Grey Passion stands as a key example of how vibrant and unique a role grisaille could play within German art, especially around the beginning of the sixteenth century. Nevertheless, within German fifteenth-century painted triptychs specifically, in stark opposition to Netherlandish triptychs of the same period, grisaille of any form—pseudo-sculptural or pictorial monochrome—played a very limited role. In assessing the handling of the triptych format in these two regions at this time, then, the key question is what difference, if any, does the presence or absence of grisaille make within the structure of the triptych. More specifically, did the different colour choices made in the two regions affect the relations between the exterior and interior of the triptych in ways that shaped the meanings generated at these medial boundaries?

The Role of Colour within the Triptych The reasons for the avoidance of colour on the exteriors of Netherlandish triptychs have been much debated. Most likely there were a variety of roles that grisaille played, which could have varied depending on the context and functions of individual works. One function sometimes suggested for grisaille is that of usage during Lent when altarpieces were closed and images were covered. However, not all Lenten coverings were grey or monochrome in colouring.72 The use of grisaille has also been associated by some scholars with a desire for modesty, humility, or penitence, and even with critiques of the image associated with rising concerns about idolatry.73 Nevertheless, other scholars have associated grisaille with a completely opposite sort of motivation, that is, with sophistication, ref inement, and elegance.74 But one central role often associated with grisaille within Netherlandish triptychs is to create hierarchy at the boundary between the closed and opened triptych by subordinating the exterior to the interior.75 While the exteriors of triptychs certainly possess visual on this work, see Bushart, Hans Holbein, pp. 106–108. 72 Smith, ‘Use of Grisaille’, is the best-known argument regarding the Lenten function of grisaille exteriors; however, Krause, ‘Material, Farbe’, p. 173, has disputed this claim by noting that while it is generally true that Lenten cloths often renounced colour, there were instances of strongly coloured Lenten veils. 73 The association of grisaille with critique of the image is emphasized by Itzel, ‘Stein trügt’; Kemperdick, ‘Abstraktion und Mimesis’, pp. 31–32, however, critiqued Itzel’s theories about the relation of grisaille to Reform-oriented ideas about the image. 74 On the association of grisaille and elegance, see Krieger, Grisaille als Metapher, and Markschies, ‘Monochrome and Grisaille’, p. 274. 75 The nature of hierarchy in the triptych is probed especially by Rimmele, Triptychon als Metapher, esp. pp. 63–69, and Kemperdick, ‘Abstraktion und Mimesis’, pp. 33–39. Schlie, Bilder des Corpus Christi, p. 45,

Tr ansparent Boundaries

and spiritual signif icance, the interiors of triptychs used as altarpieces were considered more sacred, and hence liturgical practices often limited the opening of altarpieces to the celebration of Mass and special religious feast days.76 Indeed, the practice of withholding the interiors from view for display during more sacred religious times and rituals gave the interiors a higher sense of sanctity and mystery compared to the exteriors.77 The distinction in level of sanctity between the two views is signalled in a number of ways within Netherlandish triptychs, but a key marker is that coloristic shift from cold grey monochrome on the exterior to the glowing polychrome on the interior. Barbara Lane, for example, understood the opening of the wings as revealing an ‘otherworldly image of breathtaking radiance’ that contrasted with the ‘subdued tones of the outer view’ and thereby conveyed the ‘celestial promise’ of the Mass ceremony.78 The hierarchical meaning of this contrast is grounded in very long-established theological and philosophical traditions that saw Heaven as a city built of gems, crystal, and gold, and that associated coloured gems with having celestial virtues and with facilitating the ascent from the material to the immaterial world.79 In Netherlandish triptychs, the contrast between grisaille exteriors and coloured interiors helped foreground anagogical significances within the interior images, and, in so doing, relegated the exteriors to the more material and hence less spiritually elevated realms. raises questions about hierarchies of sanctity within the altarpiece that mark the exterior as inferior to the interior. Another counterexample to be considered here is the early fifteenth-century Netherlandish triptych, the Norfolk Triptych (Fig. 1.28), which has colour on the exterior, and grisaille frames around the figures on the interior (though the interior does have a gold leaf background not seen on the exterior); hence the more standard coloristic hierarchies of fifteenth-century Netherlandish triptychs are not yet in place here. 76 The question of when altarpieces were and were not opened is complex and remains uncertain due to lack of documentation and variations in regional practices; see Jacobs, Thresholds and Boundaries, pp. 152–153. Laabs, ‘Retabel als “Schaufenster”’, pp. 77–78, discusses documentation regarding fifteenthcentury practices of opening the high altarpiece at Xanten during the singing of a specif ic antiphon in the Mass ceremony, an antiphon whose words were actually inscribed on the frame of the altarpiece. However, Tripps, ‘Studien zur Wandlung’, pp. 125–126, raises questions about Laabs’s claims, and overall, pp. 116–119, claims that altarpieces were closed most of the time and opened only for feasts (not for all Masses). I am indebted to Joseph Ackley for alerting me to these sources. It should be noted, though, as an aside, that not all triptychs were used as altarpieces, as discussed in Jacobs, Opening Doors, pp. 17–20, and hence the opening practices for these works would have followed different patterns of use. 77 The power of the exterior in withholding the interior from view and hence creating a sense of revelation when the interior appears is emphasized in Rimmele, Triptychon als Metapher, esp. pp. 45–59. 78 Lane, Altar and Altarpiece, p. 142. 79 For the philosophical and theological basis for these ideas in Abbot Suger, see Suger, Abbot Suger on the Abbey Church, pp. 15–26.

127

128 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 2.20. Berswordt Master, Annunciation, exterior of the Berswordt Altarpiece, c. 1386, High Altar, Marienkirche, Dortmund (Photo: Stephan Kemperdick).

Similar sorts of contrasts are created within German triptychs through the use of reduced colouration, rather than grisaille on the exterior. As Stephan Kemperdick has noted, in the Berswordt Master’s Berswordt Altarpiece in Dortmund, the exterior (Fig. 2.20), while not in grisaille, has reduced colouration: its Annunciation scene—which is in very damaged condition, especially in the left wing—depicts the figures in pale pink robes standing against dark blue or black backgrounds.80 On the interior (Fig. 1.16), the colours become much more saturated. None of the colours on the interior are as pale as those on the exterior: the pink tones of the robe of the man with pincers removing the nails from Christ’s feet on the right inner panel are much deeper than the pink of Mary’s robe on the reverse of that same panel. Other figures on the interior wear deep red, olive green, strong blue, orange-yellow, and purple. At the left of the interior Crucif ixion scene, even Mary’s brilliant white robe reads more strongly than the colours on the exterior. In addition, the background of the interior scenes is rendered in gold leaf, unlike the dark blue-black background of the exterior. This gives the interior 80 Kemperdick, ‘Abstraktion und Mimesis’, p. 34.

Tr ansparent Boundaries

a shimmering splendour lacking on the exterior. Hence this triptych achieves a hierarchic contrast of colour between exterior and interior that is similar to that found in Netherlandish works that incorporate grisaille, without, however, needing to actually use grisaille itself. Some other German painted triptychs create the same kinds of colour contrasts. In the Niederwildungen Altarpiece (discussed in Chapter One), the Berswordt Master’s contemporary in Dortmund, Conrad von Soest, pairs very pale colours and a somber pinkish textile background on the exterior (Fig. 1.11) with fabulously rich colours, press brocade, and gold leaf backgrounds on the interior (Fig. 1.1). Such contrasts found in this and other early f ifteenth-century painted triptychs seem analogous to those found in early f ifteenth-century German sculpted altarpieces with painted wings, such as the high altarpiece of the St. Jacobi-Kirche in Göttingen.81 This double-winged altarpiece has three views: a closed view with scenes from the life of St. James presented in muted colouration; a first opening with Infancy and Passion cycles in full colour with a gold background, and with all the scenes located within a simulated architectural frame; and a second opening with gilded, carved, and polychromed images of saints, Christ, and the Virgin, placed under carved, wooden tracery baldachins. Moving from outside to inside, this work shifts from more subdued to more colourful to more golden imagery, and also encompasses a tiered increase in dimensionality from the exterior (which has very limited volume) to the f irst opening (where the pictorially represented frames create a strong illusion of volume and space behind), to the f inal opening (where the sculptures have actual three-dimensionality). Hence the concept of hierarchical build-up is quite common in German altarpieces produced around the year 1400, whether all painted or combining sculpted and painted images. This concept is still found in works produced closer to mid-century, such as Stefan Lochner’s Adoration of the Magi, known as the Dombild, a Cologne work of 1442–1445 (a work that will be taken up again in a different context in Chapter Three), which includes an Annunciation on its exterior. This Annunciation (Fig. 2.21) is rendered in reduced colouration: 82 the Virgin is clad largely in white; Gabriel has a white robe, covered by a deep red cope with a green lining; and the background has a gold textile. This exterior is a subdued prelude to the interior (Fig. 2.22), with its glowing dominance of reds, greens, blues, and 81 Kemperdick, ‘Abstraktion und Mimesis’, p. 34. For a full examination and illustrations of this work, see Carqué and Röckelein, Hochaltarretabel der St. Jacobi-Kirche. 82 Chapius, Stefan Lochner, p. 209, cites the reduced colouration, along with the beamed ceiling, tiled floor, the relation of the figures to the space, drapery, and the low vantage point as signs of the influence of the Ghent Altarpiece on Lochner. Corley, Painting and Patronage, p. 154, however, argues against the influence of Jan van Eyck on Lochner’s Annunciation.

129

130 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 2.21. Stefan Lochner, Annunciation, exterior of the Dombild (Adoration of the Magi Triptych), 1442–1445, Cathedral, Cologne (Photo: Erich Lessing/Art Resource, NY).

only limited touches of white, along with an overwhelming presence of a gold leaf background that far outshines the gold textile on the exterior. Another painting by Lochner, a remnant of a multi-panel work—a wing in Cologne with Sts. Ambrose, Cecilia (?), and Augustine on the exterior, and Mark, Barbara, and Luke on the interior—also shows a similar kind of coloristic contrast: the exterior of this wing lacks a gold leaf background, and depicts the saints in somewhat paler coloured robes, hence giving off a less splendid effect than those on the interior. 83 But many German triptychs throughout the f ifteenth century do not have significant colour contrasts between their exteriors and interiors. Often the only 83 On this work, see Zehnder, Altkölner Malerei, pp. 234–239, and Figs. 157, 158.

Tr ansparent Boundaries

Fig. 2.22. Stefan Lochner, interior of the Dombild (Adoration of the Magi Triptych), 1442–1445, Cathedral, Cologne (Photo: Erich Lessing/Art Resource, NY).

colour difference is the use of gold leaf on the interior and not on the exterior. For example, the Conversion of Paul, one of the scenes on the exterior of the Peter and Paul Altarpiece in Hildesheim (Fig. 2.23), like the rest of the exterior, has colouration similar to that on the interior, so that the two views differ only in the dark background of the exterior as opposed to the gold leaf backgrounds of the interior (Fig. 1.26).84 Similarly, the De Monte Lamentation triptych by the Cologne artists, the Master of the Life of Mary (centre 1480) and the Master of the Legend of St. George (wings 1490), has a full colour, Netherlandish-inspired Annunciation scene on the exterior (Fig. 2.24), set within a naturalistic, interior setting, which does not include the use of gold leaf. By contrast, the work’s interior portrays a Lamentation scene (Fig. 2.25) placed within a landscape setting that terminates in a less naturalistic element, a gold leaf sky.85 But as gold leaf became less ubiquitous in the later fifteenth century, many triptychs were produced without any significant chromatic contrasts between their closed and opened views. These include, for example, the St. George Altarpiece of the Master of the Legend of St. George, a Cologne work of c. 1460, which pairs narrative scenes of the life of St. George on the interior (Fig. 2.26) with the Nativity and Ecce Homo on the exterior (Fig. 2.27)—all with the same bright colour scheme and naturalistic backgrounds.86 84 The panels on the exterior of this altarpiece have been dispersed to a variety of different museums; for a reconstruction of the whole exterior, see Schälicke, Drei Tafeln, plates, and Möhle, ‘Wandlungen’, p. 163, fig. 7a–b. 85 On this work, see Zehnder, Altkölner Malerei, pp. 475–484. 86 On this work, see Zehnder, Altkölner Malerei, pp. 250–258.

131

132 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 2.23. Anonymous Master, Conversion of Paul, exterior of the Peter and Paul Altarpiece from the Church of St. Lambert, Hildesheim, c. 1420, Landesmuseum, Hanover (Photo: © Landesmuseum Hannover – ARTOTHEK).

So too, the South German Resurrection Triptych by the Master of the Ehningen Altarpiece (Figs. 2.1, 2.2), discussed at the outset of this chapter, has a coloristic equivalence between exterior and interior, rather than contrasting the two areas by reducing the colour saturation on the exterior. Thus coloristic hierarchies, which were virtually standard elements within the structure of the fifteenth-century Netherlandish triptych, were sometimes present, but by no means ubiquitous within fifteenth-century German triptychs. Whereas Netherlandish triptychs created these contrasts almost exclusively

Tr ansparent Boundaries

Fig. 2.24. Master of the Legend of St. George, Annunciation, exterior of the De Monte Lamentation Triptych, 1490, Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_c002047, rba_c002048).

133

134 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 2.25. Master of the Life of Mary (centre) and Master of the Legend of St. George (wings), De Monte Lamentation Triptych, c. 1480 (centre), c. 1490 (wings), Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_c004451).

Fig. 2.26. Master of the Legend of St. George, St. George Altarpiece, c. 1460, Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_c002399).

Tr ansparent Boundaries

Fig. 2.27. Master of the Legend of St. George, Adoration of the Child and Ecce Homo, exterior of the St. George Altarpiece, c. 1460, Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_c002416).

through the use of grisaille, German triptychs created them, when they did so, through toned-down colour, not actual grisaille, and through the use and non-use of gold leaf. Moreover, in many cases, German triptychs were constructed with just as much coloristic splendour on the exterior as on the interior. Clearly, then, while German artists could and did achieve coloristic contrasts within their triptychs, the creation of such contrasts at the boundaries between the exteriors and interiors of their triptychs, which was a key aspect of the design of Netherlandish triptych, was not a central or essential feature of German fifteenth-century triptychs.

The Role of Simulated Sculpture within the Triptych Netherlandish grisailles created hierarchy within the triptych format not only through their monochrome colouration, but also through other means

135

136 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

of simulating the appearance of stone sculptures. 87 Netherlandish grisailles, especially on the exteriors of triptychs created in the 1430s, 40s, and 50s, often imitate the colours, textures, and veins of particular types of stones and other sculptural materials, as well as the thicker renditions of cloth and banderols, and the struts and pedestals found within the medium of sculpture.88 Netherlandish grisailles thus form pseudo-sculptures on triptych exteriors that seem to have a different ontological status than the seemingly human figures made of flesh and bones on the interiors of the works. In this way, the exterior depictions of statues stand in opposition and as lower forms of being compared to the interior depictions of living figures. These statues on the exterior, though, convey an exceptionally strong sense of reality, due in part to their strong sense of plasticity. For example, Campin’s Throne of Mercy (Fig. 2.28) projects the figures out of their shallow niche forward into the space of the viewer. In many cases, these grisailles were even lit in the direction of the actual light source coming into the real space in which the triptych-altarpieces were placed.89 Hence the grisaille on triptych exteriors would have seemed to the viewer to be present in their time and space, as well as to share the time and space of the ‘real’ stone sculptures present in the church environment where the triptych was located.90 This gives the grisailles on display when the triptych was closed the appearance of being part of the material world, as if they literally had the materiality of the stone they so carefully imitated. Somewhat paradoxically, the imagery on the interior of Netherlandish triptychs, despite representing what seem to be living figures, rather than representations of sculptures, ends up reading as transcendent and otherworldly figures. This happens because the interior imagery is rendered with such exquisite splendour of detail and colour—as seen, for example, in the amazingly lavish and dazzling church interior depicted in the opened view of Jan van Eyck’s Dresden Triptych (Fig. 2.38)—that the figures seem to be existing in a place that can only be celestial, not terrestrial. German fifteenth-century triptychs, as discussed above, rarely try to imitate or even evoke sculptural forms on their exteriors. The exterior of Conrad von Soest’s 87 Some of Jan van Eyck’s grisailles have been thought to simulate other sculptural materials such as alabaster or ivory, an issue discussed particularly in connection with Jan’s Thyssen Annunciation diptych. On this, see Eisler, Early Netherlandish Painting, p. 52. 88 The origins of this phenomenon in Netherlandish art of the 1430s is discussed in Kemperdick, ‘Abstraktion und Mimesis’, p. 18, and Borchert, ‘Color Lapidum’, p. 245. Kemperdick, ‘Helldunkel’, pp. 68–69, associates this development with traditions both from the Ghent Altarpiece and from early winged altarpieces that had monumental stone architectural exteriors, such as that at Oberwesel. 89 See, for example, a discussion of the light in the Ghent Altarpiece and its relation to that in the space of the chapel in Wilhelmy, Altniederländische Realismus, pp. 72–74. 90 Jacobs, Opening Doors, pp. 38–39.

Tr ansparent Boundaries

Fig. 2.28. Robert Campin, Throne of Mercy, c. 1430, Städel Museum, Frankfurt am Main (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Städel Museum, Frankfurt am Main/Ursula Edelmann/Art Resource, NY).

137

138 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 2.29. Stefan Lochner, Standing Saints, exterior of the Last Judgement Altarpiece, c. 1440, Alte Pinakothek, Munich (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Alte Pinakothek, Munich/Art Resource, NY).

Niederwildungen Altarpiece (Fig. 1.11) could be seen as having some sculptural references since the saints appear to stand on pedestal-type forms.91 But the idea that the exterior of the triptych was the zone for sculpture-like figures is contradicted in Conrad’s St. Paul in Munich (Fig. 1.14): here the image of St. Paul on the interior side of the wing makes modest reference to sculpture by depicting the saint on a stone pedestal, (although the figure’s full colouration, pose, and drapery are otherwise not suggestive of sculpture). By contrast, Conrad’s St. Reinhold on the panel’s exterior (Fig. 1.15) eliminates all references to sculpture by placing the figure not on a pedestal, but on a grassy ground. Similarly, Stefan Lochner’s exterior of the Last Judgement triptych (Fig. 2.29) depicts six standing saints without at all suggesting that they are sculptures. The 91 Some standing figures likely on the interior of an altarpiece by the Master of the Legend of St. George also have references to sculpture: the panels with two Magi in Cologne depict fully coloured f igures, who do, however, stand under baldachins on stone floors that project out in a pedestal-like format. See Zehnder, Altkölner Malerei, pp. 261–266, Figs. 177–183, on the parts of this polyptych, which include the Magi panels.

Tr ansparent Boundaries

figures all have flesh tones, coloured hair, flowing robes with light thin folds, and swaying postures; and they stand on a brown ground. Hence they do not resemble any type of sculpture, be it polychromed (in the case of those figures in brightly coloured robes) or unpolychromed (in the case of St. Anthony in grey at the left). References to sculptures on the exteriors of German fifteenth-century triptychs were further impeded by the popularity of narrative imagery on these triptychs’ exteriors; narrative subject matter was far less common on the exteriors of Netherlandish fifteenth-century triptychs, where the prevalence of pseudo-sculptural grisaille encouraged the presentation of non-narrative content.92 Indeed, as one would expect, the narrative scenes found on the exteriors of German fifteenthcentury triptychs make no references at all to sculptural forms. These include, for example, the narrative scenes of the lives of Sts. Peter and Paul on the exterior of the altarpiece of Hildesheim from the earlier part of the century.93 The upper left wing (the bottom scenes no longer survive) depict Peter’s battle with the magician Simon Magus in front of the emperor Nero, first Peter’s successful raising of the dead and then the fall of Simon Magus, whose flight supported by demons ended with the prayers of Peter. The scenes of Paul include Saul Leaving the Sanhedrin and the Conversion of Paul (Fig. 2.23) on the top tier, and, on the bottom tier, the Baptism of Paul and Paul Fleeing Damascus. Another highly narrative exterior, which makes no reference to sculpture, is found in the mid fifteenth-century Master of Schöppingen’s Haldern Altarpiece, also from mid-century (Fig. 2.35), which has an exterior depicting eight scenes from the lives of John the Baptist (in the left wing) and St. Martin (in the right wing). John’s life includes (reading left to right, top to bottom) scenes of the Baptism of Christ, John Preaching, the Beheading of John, and Salome Presenting the Head of John to Herod and Herodias; the life of St. Martin (following the same directionality) depicts St. Martin Consecrated as Bishop, St. Martin as Bishop at the Altar, St. Martin Raising the Dead, and the Death of St. Martin. Such colourful, narrative multiplicity on triptych exteriors presents a distinct alternative to the pseudo-sculptural grisailles found on Netherlandish triptych exteriors at this time. The lack of references to simulated sculptures on German triptychs (beyond the occasional inclusion of architectural sculpture or architectural elements rendered in grisaille) means that German fifteenth-century triptychs, unlike Netherlandish ones, do not incorporate significant reflection into the medium of sculpture within the painted triptych format. It remains unclear why Netherlandish triptychs did 92 Narrative only becomes a significant feature on the exteriors of Netherlandish triptychs toward the end of the fifteenth century and in the early sixteenth century, as discussed in Jacobs, Opening Doors, p. 20. 93 See note 84 regarding the dispersal of these scenes and for a source for a reconstructed image of the entire exterior.

139

140 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

incorporate this feature as such a standard element of their triptychs. Scholars have often considered this in connection with the paragone—literally, comparison, but more accurately, the debate in Italian Renaissance art theoretical literature about which medium was superior, painting or sculpture.94 Rudolf Preimesberger, in particular, argued that Jan van Eyck’s display of his illusionistic abilities through the imitation of sculpture was consciously demonstrating painting’s superiority to sculpture and thereby creating a visual paragone that paralleled the literary discourse of Renaissance Italy.95 Similarly, Sefy Hendler, while defining the paragone largely as an Italian late Quattrocento and Cinquecento phenomenon, saw Jan van Eyck as part of proto-paragone, and accepted the notion of the paragone as both a textual and visual phenomenon.96 But Stephan Kemperdick has argued that both the absence of documentation of such theoretical ideas in the North and the rise of fictive sculpture in the North around 1430, well before the rise of the paragone discourse in Italian culture, cast significant doubt on the idea of Netherlandish grisaille as visual paragone.97 Regardless of the question of exactly where grisaille stands within the framework of the art theoretical discourse associated with the paragone, the fictive sculpture in Netherlandish art unquestionably represents a conscious display of artistry, designed to demonstrate the illusionistic possibilities of painting—and to showcase painting’s ability to surprise and amaze the viewer with these possibilities.98 The inclusion of simulated sculpture on the exterior of Netherlandish triptychs, however, does more than just astound the viewer with the mimetic powers of painting. It also has a distancing effect: by portraying a representation of a representation on the outside of a triptych, the artist draws attention to the fact that everything in the triptych is, in fact, just a representation.99 This effect clashes with the powerful impact of the realism of the representation, giving the image an ambiguous status that hovers betwixt and between reality and representation. This notion of betwixt and between is another way of designating what anthropologists have defined as liminal status.100 Such liminal status is highly appropriate for the 94 On the paragone in Italian Renaissance art, see Mendelsohn, Paragoni, and Hendler, Guerre des Arts. 95 Preimesberger, ‘Jan van Eycks Diptychon’ has the most sustained argument for the relation of the paragone to the use of grisaille. 96 Hendler, Guerre des Arts, p. 80 and pp. 88–95. 97 Kemperdick, ‘Abstraktion und Mimesis’, pp. 25–31. 98 Kemperdick, ‘Abstraktion und Mimesis’, pp. 37–39. 99 The distancing, or Verfremdungseffekt, of grisaille is emphasized in Schoel-Glass, ‘En grisaille’, pp. 201–202; Schwarz, ‘Visuelle Medien’; and Brahms, Zwischen Licht, p. 37. Similarly, Hamburger, ‘Seeing and Believing’, p. 52, also notes the elements of distance and difference—as opposed to seeming immediacy and naturalism—in Jan van Eyck’s grisailles and their definition of a sculptural mode. 100 For a summary of anthropological and literary theories of the notion of liminality, with bibliographic references on this complex topic, see Jacobs, Thresholds and Boundaries, pp. 3–6.

Tr ansparent Boundaries

grisailles’ location on the closed altarpiece, the state that stands between viewers’ day-to-day experiences of the work and their elevated experience of it when the altarpiece is opened during ritual. This liminality allows the exterior to reference the transformative, transitional, processual stage of the Mass ritual, particularly the liminal moment of the transformation of the Eucharist into the body of Christ, which occurs before the opened altarpiece.101 Both the display of artistry and the effect of distancing, which are created on the exteriors of Netherlandish triptychs, can, however, be accomplished through other means than pseudo-sculptural grisaille. Indeed, German fifteenth-century triptychs seek to display artistry on their exteriors, just a different sort of artistry than is showcased in Netherlandish pseudo-sculptures. The exterior of Angler’s Tabula Magna (Figs. 2.7, 2.8) displays artistry in its presentation of both spatially receding interior settings and impressive landscape spaces; the Master of the Polling Panels also seems to be striving for an effect of artistry with his brilliantly coloured exteriors that incorporate Netherlandish detail in the interiors as well as including lavish brocaded garments, and illusionistic elements often projecting into the space of the viewer (e.g., Fig. 2.5). The exterior wings of Stefan Lochner’s Last Judgement altarpiece (Fig. 2.29), which now show a dark background, originally had clouds painted in perspective, another display of artistry.102 And the exterior of the Master of the Ehningen Altarpiece’s Resurrection Triptych (Fig. 2.2) depicts the Annunciation in an interior setting that has a wealth of detailed furnishings that offer opportunities for demonstrations of artistic skill. The artist includes several glass vessels including an hour glass (thereby displaying several opportunities to show transparency); two brocaded cloths; receding tiles in the floors and receding squares of grass in the garden behind (thereby showing abilities with the use of perspective); a complex still life on the shelves behind the Virgin (thereby showing abilities at trompe l’oeil); and a wooden altarpiece beside the Virgin and stone tympanum behind Gabriel (thereby showing the ability to simulate different materials). One could thus see the Annunciation exterior of the Resurrection Triptych as demonstrating a fuller range of artistry than the typical Netherlandish grisaille Annunciation, for example, Hugo van der Goes’s Annunciation on the exterior of the Portinari Altarpiece (Fig. 2.30), which is much more limited in its level of depth and detail. Moreover, the coloured exterior of the Resurrection triptych’s Annunciation (Fig. 2.2) lacks the distanced quality of Hugo’s Portinari Altarpiece’s exterior grisaille Annunciation. The Master of the Ehningen Altarpiece’s Annunciation scene stays in 101 The liminality of the exterior of the altarpiece and its relation to the Eucharist is discussed in Jacobs, Thresholds and Boundaries, pp. 152–188. 102 Although the wings currently have a dark background, recent imaging studies have revealed the original presence of these clouds. I am grateful to Martin Schawe for discussing this with me.

141

142 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 2.30. Hugo van der Goes, Annunciation, exterior of the Portinari Altarpiece, c. 1475–1476, Uffizi, Florence (Photo: Scala/Art Resource, NY).

character in its pictorially rendered depiction of the moment of the angel Gabriel’s announcement of Mary’s pregnancy. By contrast, Hugo’s Annunciation encourages the viewer not just to view the scene as a depiction of this religious event, but to step back and consider another aspect of the work, that is, its nature as a representation. The viewer is invited to question whether the work is a sculpture or a painting. On the one hand, Hugo’s image has many features that suggest it is a stone image: its monochrome grey colouration, placement within a niche, and even the blocky, unfoliated nature of the book that the Virgin reads. But the activated gestures, especially that of Gabriel who seems to have just flown in and landed, and the floating dove (which may or may not be supported by a strut) lack a sculptural feel.103 The multiple ambiguities of a pictorial image, which represents what seem 103 On a possible strut here, see Vos, Flemish Primitives, pp. 150–151. It is hard to know if it is a strut or just a shadow.

Tr ansparent Boundaries

to be sculptures that have both sculptural and pictorial qualities, force viewers to confront not just the iconographic content of the exterior, but the medium through which this content is being presented. This confrontation creates the distanced character of this exterior and that of other Netherlandish triptychs. Moreover, the shifting representational character between the boundaries of the exterior and interior of the Netherlandish triptych (from grisaille to full colour painting) forces an additional reflection on the differences between the media of sculpture and painting. To some degree, the reduction of colour—for example, on the exterior of the Bernswordt Master’s Bernswordt Altarpiece (Fig. 2.20)—has a similar effect of distancing. However, in this case, the subdued colouration distances by reducing the illusion of reality, not by evoking the medium of sculpture. In addition, some of the hyper-bright colouration on the exterior (as in the exteriors of the Master of the Polling Panels, Fig. 2.5) distances through a splendour that exceeds reality. But the distancing found on the exteriors of German triptychs, either through the ramping up or down of colour, differs from the distancing in Netherlandish triptychs, which derives from calling attention to the nature of representation itself through the evocation of the medium of sculpture. This Netherlandish form of distancing was almost never incorporated into fifteenth-century German triptychs.104 The reasons why Netherlandish, but not German artists incorporated references to sculpture on their triptych exteriors are not easily explained. The traditions of pseudo-sculptural grisaille on triptych exteriors seem particularly linked to Jan van Eyck, an artist steeped in artistic self-awareness and in reflection on relations between painting and sculpture.105 Jan’s influence may explain why grisaille had such a powerful role within the Netherlandish triptych and why, toward the later part of the century, it became formulaic, rather than a complex consideration of the nature of representation.106 But why, then, did German artists, who also were strongly influenced by Jan van Eyck, not adopt Jan’s grisaille pseudo-sculptures?107 Perhaps the Netherlandish triptych exterior/interior structure did not transfer so easily into German triptychs due to different practices of altarpiece production in the two regions. In the Netherlands, there was a fairly strong division between artists working on painted triptychs and those working on triptychs that combined painted wings with sculpted centres; grisaille 104 As mentioned above, one exception here is the work of the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece, to be discussed in Chapter Four, which does incorporate pseudo-sculptural grisaille. 105 On Jan van Eyck’s engagement with the medium of sculpture, see Preimesberger, ‘Jan van Eycks Diptychon’; Jan’s status as a self-aware artist is emphasized in Koerner, Moment of Self-Portraiture, pp. 55–56 and pp. 104–108. 106 I am indebted to Stephan Kemperdick for this point raised in conversation. I think he is quite right to think that by the later part of the century, some artists may have been repeating conventions more than engaging in a reflection on the nature of the pictorial medium and its relation to sculpture. 107 The influence of Van Eyck in Germany is considered, for example, in Kemperdick, ‘First Generation’.

143

144 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

exteriors were limited to fully painted winged structures and were almost never found in works with sculpted interiors.108 By contrast, painters in Germany may have moved more fluidly between producing fully painted works and ones that combined both media.109 As a result, the bright colours found, for example, on the painted exteriors or first openings of sculpted works such as Master Bertram’s Altarpiece from the Petrikirche in Hamburg (Fig. 1.6) and Moser’s St. Magdalene Altarpiece (Fig. 0.1) may have been more relevant models for German painted triptych production.110 But the lack of grisaille imitation of sculpture on the exteriors of painted triptychs should not be seen as an indication that German artists were not sensitive to issues of Medialität. True, most did not use the triptych exterior as a region to explore the medium of sculpture within the medium of painting, and instead consistently evoked the medium of painting within both zones of the triptych.111 But in so doing, German artists were able to address a different aspect of Medialität within the painted triptych even more thoroughly than their Netherlandish counterparts. The greater representational consistency in German triptychs allowed for the construction of triptychs that linked the exterior and interior of the triptych more closely than those that incorporated pseudo-sculptural grisailles. Hence German triptychs were able to better exploit the medial condition of the triptych’s two views by creating more ‘transparency’ between exterior and interior, that is, connections of form and content across the boundaries between the two zones. This sort of blurring of the boundaries helped create deep resonances of meaning within the triptych.

German Triptychs and the Transparency of the Boundary Between Exterior and Interior These resonances can be seen in German triptychs produced throughout the fifteenth century in a variety of regions. The small devotional triptych by the 108 On grisaille in Netherlandish carved altarpieces, see Jacobs, Early Netherlandish Carved Altarpieces, p. 112 and p. 196. 109 Thus, for example, Hans Holbein the Elder worked in conjunction with the sculptors Gregor Erhart and Adolf Daucher on an altarpiece for the Dominican monastery at Kaisheim, along with working on fully painted works. In addition, some artists, such as Master Bertram and Michael Pacher, worked both as painters and sculptors. 110 Other colourful exteriors of fourteenth-century altarpieces with sculpted interiors are illustrated in Sander, Schaufenster des Himmels, p. 54; and an example of a f ifteenth-century, double-winged, sculpted retable, with brightly painted closed and first openings, is illustrated in Sommer, Mitteldeutsche Flügelretabel, Figs. 15, 16, and 17. 111 Again, here, as will be discussed in Chapter Four, the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece will form an exception, as will some examples discussed in the Coda on sixteenth-century triptychs, which develop a play between the media of sculpture and painting as part of the dynamic of the triptych.

Tr ansparent Boundaries

Cologne Master, the Master of Saint Veronica, the Virgin with the Sweet Pea Blossom of 1410–1415, has an exterior (Fig. 2.31) with a narrative scene of the Crowning with Thorns shown in full, if pastel-toned colours.112 In the Crowning with Thorns scene, full-length figures are placed on a recessive, tiled floor as they torment Christ who is seated passively before them. The split between the panels bisects the lower half of Christ’s body, though his upper half shifts to the left so that the crack does not intersect his head. When the triptych is opened, in connections analyzed by Roland Krischel, Christ’s tormented body is split open, and the theme shifts from the violence of the adult Christ’s experience of torture to a sweet image of the infant Christ held in the loving arms of his mother (Fig. 2.32).113 Christ touches her chin in the chin-chuck gesture that references the notion of Christ and Mary as Bridegroom and Bride.114 The shift from exterior to interior thus incorporates a significant contrast in theme and mood. It incorporates formal shifts as well, since the background colour changes from red to gold leaf, and the figure scale shifts from full-length on the exterior and inner wings to half-length in the centre. This results in a sense of increased intimacy, sanctity, and warmth as one opens the triptych. But despite such contrasts, there are strong connections between the two views thanks to the use of colour in all parts of both zones—and to the use of recessive ground planes and full-length figures on both sides of the wings (though not in the central panel, which has no ground plane and half-length figures). These formal connections help communicate the necessary connection, on theological grounds, between the birth of this baby, and his eventual suffering and sacrifice. In addition, this transparency between the views joins the child and the adult, as well as joy and suffering, thereby creating a poignancy that no doubt would contribute to the affective response of a devotee praying before the work. After regularly opening and closing the work, users likely could easily hold the memory of one view in mind while viewing the other. Another early fifteenth-century work, in this case a large-scale altarpiece, the Peter and Paul Altarpiece of Hildesheim of c. 1420, as Valerie Möhle has argued, also establishes strong congruencies and cross-references between exterior and interior (see Fig. 2.23 for an illustration of one panel of the exterior, and Fig. 1.26 for the interior).115 The exterior and interior of the wings share the same figure scale, 112 On this work, see Zehnder, Altkölner Malerei, pp. 316–323, and Krischel, ‘Now You See Me’, pp. 144–148. 113 Krischel, ‘Now You See Me’, pp. 144–148. 114 On the chin-chuck, see Steinberg, Sexuality of Christ, pp. 110–118. Krischel, ‘Now You See Me’, pp. 145–146, notes that with the right wing open, which likely would be part of the process of opening, the gesture of Christ’s mocker whose hand touches Christ’s garment near his neck would be juxtaposed, in a sort of parody, with the loving grip of the Christ child’s hand on the chin of his mother. 115 Möhle, ‘Wandlungen’, pp. 161–166. The full exterior unfortunately could not be illustrated here due to the dispersal of its many panels (and the resulting extremely high costs of reproduction), but the

145

146 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 2.31. Master of St. Veronica, Crowning with Thorns, exterior of the Virgin with the Sweet Pea Blossom Triptych, 1420s, Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_d021311_05).

Tr ansparent Boundaries

Fig. 2.32. Master of St. Veronica, Virgin with the Sweet Pea Blossom Triptych, 1420s, Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_d021311_01).

narrative content, four-part compartmentalization in a cruciform shape, and colour scheme (except for the shift from a dark background on the exterior to gold-leaf on the interior). The connections extend to parallels between scenes in parallel positions on both sides of each wing. On the altarpiece’s left wing, for example, there are visual and thematic links—which can be understood as transparencies through the panel—between the scene on the upper right side of the exterior, in which Peter kneels in prayer causing the magician Simon Magus to fall from the sky, and the scene on the upper right side of the interior, where Christ kneels to wash Peter’s feet.116 These connections (enhanced by the fact that Peter wears the same colour clothes in both scenes) show how Peter’s power to conquer Simon Magus derives from Christ, but also show Christ’s humility despite this power. On reconstructed exterior is illustrated in Schälicke, Drei Tafeln, plates, and Möhle, ‘Wandlungen’, p. 163, fig. 7a–b. 116 These scenes are not painted directly behind one another, but rather appear in the same position as the other scene when the wing is rotated closed or opened.

147

148 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

the exterior right wing, Christ comes down from heaven to convert Paul, an action that is reversed in the scene that appears in its place when the wing is opened and shows Christ rising up to heaven in the Ascension. In addition, the repetition of certain motifs creates further connections between interior and exterior: the dog in front of the scene of Paul leaving the High Council recalls the dog in the front of the Crucifixion. Similarly, the horses in the scenes of Paul’s life (Fig. 2.23) recall those in the Crucifixion (Fig. 1.26); the basket in the scene of Paul fleeing Damascus recalls that in the Crucifixion; and the scene of Peter’s Crucifixion (which is now missing but surely appeared in the bottom tier of the left wing) no doubt clearly called to mind the interior Crucifixion. All in all, the Hildesheim Altarpiece is designed to link the lives of Peter and Paul to that of Christ. It also shows how the lives of these saints not only imitate that of Christ, but also carry out his mission and fulfil the mission of the church itself—a mission continually enacted with the celebration of the Mass in front of the altarpiece itself.117 In this case, then, the visual links between exterior and interior, accomplished through the use of colour and pictorially rendered modes of representation (rather than pseudo-sculptural representation), interconnect the views of the triptych and blur the boundaries between exterior and interior, thereby leveraging the format of the triptych to generate and deepen meaning. A particularly close connection between exterior and interior is seen in a work of c. 1425–1430, the Crucifixion Triptych by the Master of the Kirchsahr Altarpiece (Fig. 2.33, 2.34).118 This work depicts the crucified Christ in the centre, with two standing saints on the interior and exterior of each wing. The saints on both sides of the wings all stand on green, grassy ground planes with blue skies at the top. The only visual difference between the two sides of each wing is that the exterior saints (Fig. 2.33) are situated within a box-like receding structure, red in colour, whereas the interior figures (Fig. 2.34) are placed before a flat gold leaf backdrop. But otherwise, the visual character, colouration, and figure scale of the exterior seems to bleed through into the interior. Indeed, the red background of the exterior carries over into the red frame that surrounds each of the panels on the interior. Similarly, in the Haldern Altarpiece by the Master of Schöppingen of 1440–1450, the use of colour and the narrative pictorial depiction on both interior and exterior of the triptych creates strong connections between the two zones.119 Unlike the Master of the Kirchsahr Altarpiece’s Crucifixion Triptych, which is largely nonnarrative in content, the Haldern Altarpiece is fully narrative, with an interior 117 Möhle, ‘Wandlungen’, p. 165, stresses how this altarpiece creates relations between interior and interior that bring out the Christ-like nature of the saint and the concept of imitatio Christi. 118 On this work, see Zehnder, Altkölner Malerei, pp. 462–466. 119 On this work, see Pieper, Deutschen, niederländischen und italiensichen Tafelbilder, pp. 102–136.

Tr ansparent Boundaries

Fig. 2.33. Master of the Kirchsahr Altarpiece, Sts. Apollonia, John the Baptist, Valerian, and Cecilia, exterior of the Crucifixion Triptych, c. 1425–1430, Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, Albers, Michael, rba_d022029_01).

Passion cycle (Fig. 1.20) and exterior wings showing four scenes from the life of St. John the Baptist in the left panel and four scenes from the life of St. Martin in the right panel (Fig. 2.35). The structure of the scenes places Christ baptized by John (at the top left exterior) in the same spot he is shown kneeling in the Agony in the Garden scene (at the top left interior), the opening scene of the Passion cycle. In the Agony in the Garden, the winding path that the soldiers will take when they enter the garden to arrest Christ appears almost like an afterimage

149

150 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 2.34. Master of the Kirchsahr Altarpiece, Crucifixion Triptych, c. 1425–1430, Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_d002002).

Fig. 2.35. Master of Schöppingen, Lives of St. John the Baptist and St. Martin, exterior of the Haldern Altarpiece, c. 1440–1450, LWL-Museum für Kunst und Kultur, Westfälisches Landesmuseum, Münster (Photo: © LWLMKuK – ARTOTHEK).

Tr ansparent Boundaries

of the winding Jordan river on the panel’s exterior. The scenes at the bottom of the left exterior, which depict John the Baptist’s beheading and the presentation of his head to Herod are in the position where Christ’s flagellation and mocking appear on the interior. This creates a parallel between John’s sufferings and those of Christ. On the right wing, St. Martin’s miracle of raising a man from the dead is placed at the lower left, that is, in the same position as the scene of the three Maries at the empty tomb on the interior. This forges a connection between the two sepulchres in the two scenes, thereby linking St. Martin’s miraculous powers to Christ’s victory over death. Thus the sustained use of colour (as opposed to grisaille) and pictorialism (as opposed to the imitation of sculpture) on the exteriors of triptychs created possibilities within German triptychs that generally did not develop within Netherlandish triptychs of the same period. German triptych exteriors could incorporate scenes that included narrative events and/or were placed into settings that extended into spatial depth. Netherlandish triptychs, by focusing on exteriors that showed sculptures placed in niches, ended up with much more limited possibilities for space and narrative— and hence more limited possibilities of linking exteriors to interiors that incorporated space and narrative. The scarcity of surviving Netherlandish triptychs produced prior to 1430 limits our understanding of how Netherlandish exteriors were structured prior to the introduction of grisaille. Most of the surviving pre-Eyckian triptychs lack figurative decoration on the reverses of their wings and instead have red-coloured exteriors.120 One of the few early examples with a pictorial exterior, the Norfolk Triptych of c. 1410–1420 (Fig. 1.28), already established fairly strong contrasts between exterior and interior.121 Its exterior is in full colour and includes relatively deep landscape settings with blue skies. By contrast, its interior has gold leaf, and more important, situates the figures not within landscapes, but within a grisaille framework—and, interestingly enough, represents a reversal of what would later develop in the Netherlandish triptych format, that is, the dominance of grisaille on the exterior, not the interior. After the introduction of grisaille in Netherlandish triptychs in 1430, the distinctions between triptych interiors and exteriors became even more pronounced. Hence the traditions of triptych design within the Netherlandish and Germanic regions diverge insofar as Netherlandish triptychs tend to establish more contrast and German ones more continuity at the boundaries between 120 See Kemperdick and Lammertse, Road to Van Eyck, pp. 226–233, which discusses several pre-Eyckian triptychs. Although the reverses of these works are not illustrated—and not always discussed in the catalogue entries—Stephan Kemperdick has conf irmed that they are all painted red, generally with some additional gilded floral decoration on top. 121 For an illustration of the exterior, see Jacobs, Opening Doors, plate 3.

151

152 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

exterior and interior. While both German and Netherlandish f ifteenth-century triptychs admit of variety, the following two comparisons demonstrate how the use of colour and not grisaille on the exteriors of German triptychs allowed for an increased blurring of the boundaries in German triptychs compared to Netherlandish ones.122 This blurring is signif icant in that it had real impact on the works’ meanings. The reduced colouration of the Annunciation on the exterior of Stefan Lochner’s Dombild of 1442–1445, (Fig. 2.21, discussed above) was likely conceived under the influence of the works of the Netherlandish artist Jan van Eyck, particularly his Ghent Altarpiece Annunciation of 1432 (Fig. 2.36)123 The Ghent Altarpiece’s Annunciation is rendered in semi-grisaille, with the figures clad in white with flesh-toned skin and situated in an environment that includes colour, but at a reduced, toned-down level. By comparison, Lochner’s Annunciation on the exterior of his Dombild has more colour than the Ghent Annunciation, since the angel has red and green robes in addition to white ones, and Mary has a blue robe under her white robe—all colours that are picked up and explode into the reds, greens, and blues that dominate the opened view of the altarpiece (Fig. 2.22). Hence, while Lochner’s exterior includes more white, it also includes all the main colours of the interior at a high level of saturation. Moreover, the gold textile curtain across the back of the Virgin’s chamber sets the stage for the gold leaf background of the interior.124 Some differences between the Dombild’s exterior and interior are evident in the top and bottom sections: the receding brown tile floor of the Annunciation chamber on the exterior gives way to the grassy ground of the heavenly setting on the interior; and the receding wooden roof of the interior gives way to the 122 Jacobs, Thresholds and Boundaries, pp. 152–179, discusses ways in which the exteriors and interiors of Netherlandish altarpieces are interconnected, but nevertheless the connections across this boundary are not as strong as those forged in German triptychs. 123 The statues of the two St. Johns in the Ghent Altarpiece form the earliest dated examples of pseudosculptural grisaille and likely represent the moment when this type of grisaille was f irst invented. However, it is not fully clear whether Campin or Van Eyck invented the first pseudo-sculptural grisailles, since Campin’s grisailles are of disputed date; see Borchert, ‘Color Lapidum’, pp. 245–246; Kemperdick, ‘Abstraktion und Mimesis’, p. 18, focuses on the Ghent Altarpiece as the oldest known example, noting, p. 33, that this form of grisaille was invented in the context of a polyptych exterior that explored a variety of coloristic and pictorial possibilities, ranging from full colour images of the donors, to the reduced colour but still pictorial image of the Annunciation set within a spatial setting, to the pseudo-sculptural type of the statues of the two saint Johns standing on inscribed pedestals within shallow niches—the last of which would become the main type for triptych exteriors for much of the rest of the fifteenth century. On the influence of the Ghent Altarpiece on Lochner, see note 82. 124 Krischel, ‘“Vergiftetes” Meisterwerk’, pp. 144–149, notes that the opening of the triptych tears open the curtain on the exterior and relates this to the tearing open of the veil of the temple; Krischel ties this reference to the fact that the Ratskappelle, as he discusses, pp. 94–106, where the altarpiece was placed, was erected on the site of a synagogue, with the altar erected over the former Torah shrine.

Tr ansparent Boundaries

Fig. 2.36. Jan van Eyck, Exterior of the Ghent Altarpiece, 1432, St. Bavo’s Cathedral, Ghent (Photo: Erich Lessing/Art Resource, NY).

153

154 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

transcendent space of the gilded backdrop and tracery decoration on the interior. These changes, together with the larger scale of the figures, end up pushing the figures on the interior closer to the viewer so that they become more eminent. But the coloristic connections make the changes between the views continuous, rather than abrupt. The opening of the altarpiece thus creates a gradual build-up of colour and gentle shift of the space forward. By contrast, Jan van Eyck’s Dresden Triptych (Fig. 2.37) has an exterior Annunciation scene that appears to be enacted by ivory figures placed on pedestals in separate niches.125 The contrast between this Annunciation scene and the imagery of the Virgin and Child with saints on the Dresden Triptych’s interior (fig. 2.38) sets up very sharp distinctions between exterior and interior: notably, and respectively, between simplicity and density of detail, between monochrome and resonant colour, and between shallow and recessive space. Certainly connections are established between exterior and interior: Van Eyck’s dove, which hovers in the air in a manner not possible in an actual sculpture, reminds us that the exterior is in fact a pictorial representation (not sculpture), just like the interior. But the contrasts that Van Eyck created in the Dresden Triptych, especially through setting the sculptural references on its exterior in opposition to the pictorialism of its interior, are much starker than any distinctions that Lochner forged between the Dombild’s exterior and interior.126 To return to the works with which this chapter opened, the boundaries between the exterior and interior of the Master of the Ehningen Altarpiece’s Resurrection Triptych (Figs. 2.1, 2.2) are more fluid and more blurred than those of Bouts’s Pearl of Brabant (Fig. 2.4, 2.39), and largely for the same reasons as in the comparison between Lochner and Van Eyck. The Resurrection Triptych has no abrupt shifts in colour between exterior and interior since both zones have a similar coloristic palette. The interior setting of the work’s Annunciation on its outer side shifts to a landscape at the centre of the interior, but the inner wings incorporate interior settings, thereby linking more seamlessly with the exterior. The Pearl of Brabant not only has the extreme colour shift inherent in the use of grisaille, but also an enormous shift in spatial depth between interior and exterior. The statues of Catherine and Barbara on the exterior (Fig. 2.4) have little room behind them, whereas St. Christopher in the inside right wing (Fig. 2.39) appears in a river setting that extends breathtakingly far back into space, while St. John the Baptist in the inside left wing is in a verdant landscape of equally impressive recessive depth. This visual disconnect between the Pearl of Brabant’s interior and exterior is matched by relatively loose thematic connections: while the interior can been seen as having 125 On the Dresden Triptych, and for bibliography, see Jacobs, Opening Doors, pp. 80–84. 126 Niedhardt and Schölzel, ‘Jan van Eyck’s Dresden Triptych’, p. 27.

Tr ansparent Boundaries

Fig. 2.37. Jan van Eyck, Annunciation, exterior of the Dresden Triptych, 1437, Gemäldegalerie Alte Meister, Staatliche Kunstsammlungen, Dresden (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Gemäldegalerie Alte Meister, Staatliche Kunstsammlungen, Dresden/Hans-Peter Klut/Art Resource, NY).

Christological references in all three scenes, most likely its overall combination of four saints (one on each side of its two wings) and the Adoration of the Magi (on the central inside panel) represented an assemblage of the (currently unknown) patron’s devotional affiliations rather than a tightly coordinated iconographical

155

156 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 2.38. Jan van Eyck, Dresden Triptych, interior, 1437, Gemäldegalerie Alte Meister, Staatliche Kunstsammlungen, Dresden (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Gemäldegalerie Alte Meister, Staatliche Kunstsammlungen, Dresden/Hans-Peter Klut/Art Resource, NY).

Fig. 2.39. Dieric Bouts and Workshop, Pearl of Brabant (Adoration of the Magi Triptych), c. 1465, Alte Pinakothek, Munich (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Alte Pinakothek, Munich/Lutz Braun (central panel) /Art Resource, NY).

Tr ansparent Boundaries

programme.127 By contrast, the Resurrection Triptych’s visual connections help forge thematic ones. In this triptych, the exterior’s scene of the Annunciation—the moment when Christ becomes incarnate and salvific history begins with the miracle of a Virgin becoming pregnant with the son of God—stands more directly as a confirmation of the miraculous events shown on the interior, Christ’s Resurrection from the dead in the centre and his appearances after his death (to the Virgin Mary in the left wing and to the Doubting Thomas at the right). Indeed, the Virgin Mary appears in the left wing’s interior, that same panel on which she appears on the exterior receiving the message from Gabriel. Only now, on the interior scene, Christ is no longer incarnate flesh in her womb, but manifest in his divine nature, appearing after his death to comfort his mother. The issue here is not one of artistic quality. Whether or not the Master of the Ehningen Altarpiece’s should be deemed derivative in copying Bouts’s inventions, and whether or not the Pearl of Brabant is by the hand of the master or by his shop, what is at stake here is not a question of the artists’ abilities, but of how they manipulated the format of the triptych—in particular the relations between the exterior and interior of the triptych. In the German example, thanks to the use of pictorial, coloured imagery on the exterior, rather than grisaille imitations of sculpture, the artist is able to blur the boundaries between interior and exterior and thereby create visual continuities that contribute to more continuous connections of meaning. In other words, like many other fifteenth-century triptychs produced in German-speaking regions, this German triptych creates more visual and iconographic transparency between these two views of the triptych compared to triptychs following f ifteenth-century Netherlandish traditions of triptych design. The painters of Netherlandish triptychs have long been famous for exploring Medialität, that is, for probing the nature of the medium of painting. They did this by consciously drawing attention in various ways to the new and extraordinary level of mimesis they achieve within the pictorial medium. Early Netherlandish painters were particularly well known for accomplishing this through their imitation of sculpture, which demonstrated that the medium of painting could imitate everything to a high degree of illusionism, even an entirely different artistic medium. German painting eschewed this type of medial exploration, but in doing so opened up greater possibilities for a different type of investigation of Medialität: probing the potential of connection across the boundaries of exterior 127 The iconography of this work has not been a focus of much study, but the Christological references in the interior wings (in the form of the lamb in the John the Baptist left wing and the infant Christ in the Christopher wing) are noted in Schawe, Alte Pinakothek, p. 300, and Périer-D’Ieteren, Dieric Bouts, p. 318; Périer-D’Ieteren, p. 314, provides the known provenance information for this triptych.

157

158 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

and interior within the medium of the painted triptych. Interestingly enough, as the sixteenth century opens, Netherlandish triptychs and German triptychs both moved toward the inclusion of pictorial grisaille (rather than pseudo-sculptural grisaille) on their exteriors.128 This brought the two triptych traditions closer together in their treatment of the boundary between exterior and interior. But for much of the fifteenth century, triptychs produced within boundaries of these two regions were marked by very different treatments of the boundaries within their own format.

Works Cited Anzelewsky, Fedja. Albrecht Dürer: Das malerische Werk. 2nd Edition. Berlin: Deutscher Verlag für Kunstwissenschaft, 1991. Beutler, Christian and Gunther Thiem. Hans Holbein d. Ä: Die spätgotische Altar– und Glasmalerei. Augsburg: Hans Rüsler, 1960. Blumenröder, Sabine. ‘Andrea Mantegna’s Grisaille Paintings: Colour Metamorphosis as a Metaphor for History’. In Symbols of Time in the History of Art, edited by Christian Heck and Kristen Lippincott, pp. 41–55. Turnhout: Brepols, 2002. Blumenröder, Sabine. Andrea Mantegna, die Grisaillen: Malerei, Geschichte und antike Kunst im Paragone des Quattrocento. Berlin: Gebrüder Mann, 2008. Borchert, Till-Holger. ‘Some Observations on the Lübeck Altarpiece by Hans Memling’. In Le dessin sous-jacent dans la peinture, colloque IX 12–14 septembre 1991: Dessin sous-jacent et pratiques d’atelier, edited by Roger van Schoute and Hélène Verougstraete-Marcq, pp. 91–100. Louvain-la-Neuve: Collège Érasme, 1993. Borchert, Till-Holger, ‘Color Lapidum: A Survey of Late Medieval Grisaille’. In Jan van Eyck: Grisallas, edited by Till-Holger Borchert, pp. 239–253. Madrid: Museo ThyssenBornemisza, 2009. Borchert, Till-Holger. Jan Van Eyck: Grisallas. Madrid: Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza, 2009. Borchert, Till-Holger. Van Eyck to Dürer: Early Netherlandish Painting and Central Europe 1430–1530. Tielt: Lannoo, 2010. Brahms, Iris. Zwischen Licht und Schatten: Zur Tradition der Farbgrundzeichnung bis Albrecht Dürer. Paderborn: Wilhelm Fink, 2016. Budde, Rainer and Roland Krischel, eds. Genie ohne Namen: Der Meister des BartholomäusAltars. Cologne: Wallraf-Richartz Museum, 2001. Burger, Michael. ‘Grisaille in der Glasmalerei: Ein mehrdeutiger Begriff’. In Die Farbe Grau, edited by Magdalena Bushart and Gregor Wedekind, pp. 1–14. Berlin: De Gruyter, 2016. 128 The rise of pictorial grisaille in sixteenth-century Netherlandish art is considered in Jacobs, Opening Doors, pp. 225–228.

Tr ansparent Boundaries

Bushart, Bruno. Hans Holbein der Ältere. Augsberg: Hofmann-Druck, 1987. Carqué, Bernd and Hedwig Röckelein, eds. Das Hochaltarretabel der St. Jacobi-Kirche in Göttingen. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2005. Chapuis, Julien. Stefan Lochner: Image Making in Fifteenth-Century Cologne. Turnhout: Brepols, 2004. Charron, Pascale. ‘Color, Grisaille and Pictorial Techniques in Works by Jean Pucelle’. In Jean Pucelle: Innovation and Collaboration in Manuscript Painting, edited by Kyunghee Pyun and Anna D. Russakoff, pp. 91–107. London: Harvey Miller, 2013. Corley, Brigitte. Painting and Patronage in Cologne 1300–1500. London: Harvey Miller, 2000. Decker, Bernhard. Dürer und Grünewald, der Frankfurter Heller-Altar: Rahmenbedingungen der Altarmalerei. Frankfurt am Main: Fischer-Taschenbuch, 1996. Dittelbach, Thomas. Das monochrome Wandegemälde: Untersuchungen zum Kolorit des frühen 15. Jahrhunderts in Italien. Hildesheim: G. Olms, 1993. Eisler, Colin. Early Netherlandish Painting: The Thyssen Bornemisza Collection. London: Sotheby’s Publications, 1989. Feuchtmayr, Karl. Die Anfänge der Münchner Tafelmalerei: Ausstellung in der Neuen Staatsgalerie München, Mai 1935. Munich: Wolf, 1935. Fisch, Barbara. ‘Beobachtungen zur “Tabula Magna” aus der Tegernseer Klosterkirche: Monochrome Malerei oder Schäden durch frühere Restaurierungen’. Restauro 100 (1994), pp. 184–186. Friedländer, Max J. Early Netherlandish Painting, vol. III, Dieric Bouts and Joos van Gent. Leiden: A.W. Sijthoff, 1968. Goddard, Stephen H. The Master of Frankfurt and his Shop. Brussels: AWLSK, 1984. Hamburger, Jeffrey F. ‘Seeing and Believing: The Suspicion of Sight and the Authentication of Vision in Late Medieval Art and Devotion’. In Imagination und Wirklichkeit: Zum Verhältnis von mentalen und realen Bildern in der Kunst der frühen Neuzeit, edited by Klaus Krüger and Alessandro Nova, pp. 47–69. Mainz: Von Zabern, 2000. Hand, John Oliver. Joos van Cleve: The Complete Paintings. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2004. Hasse, Max. Hans Memlings Lübecker Passionsaltar. Lübeck: Museum für Kunst und Kulturgeschichte der Hansestadt Lübeck, 1994. Heiden, Rüdiger an der. Die Alte Pinakothek: Sammlungsgeschichte, Bau und Bilder. Munich: Hirmer, 1998. Hendler, Sefy. La guerre des arts: Le paragone peinture-sculpture en Italie XVe–XVIIe siècle. Rome: ‘L’Erma’ di Bretschneider, 2013. Itzel, Constanze. ‘Der Stein trügt: Die Imitation von Skulpturen in der niederländischen Tafelmalerei im Kontext bildtheoretischer Auseinandersetzungen des frühen 15. Jahrhunderts’. Ph.D dissertation, Ruprecht-Karls-Universität, Heidelberg, 2005. Jacobs, Lynn F. Early Netherlandish Carved Altarpieces, 1380–1550: Medieval Tastes and Mass Marketing. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998.

159

160 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Jacobs, Lynn F. Opening Doors: The Early Netherlandish Triptych Reinterpreted. University Park, PA: The Pennsylvania State University Press, 2012. Jacobs, Lynn F. Thresholds and Boundaries: Liminality in Netherlandish Art (1385–1530). London: Routledge, 2018. Kemperdick, Stephan. ‘I tableau à II hysseoires—ein Bild mit zwei Flüglen: Wandelbare und nicht wandelbare Bildensembles in der Zeit Rogier van der Weydens’. In Der Meister von Flémalle und Rogier van der Weyden, edited by Stephan Kemperdick and Jochen Sander, pp. 117–131. Ostfildern: Hatje Cantz, 2009. Kemperdick, Stephan. ‘The First Generation’. In Van Eyck to Dürer: Early Netherlandish Painting and Central Europe 1430–1530, edited by Till-Holger Borchert, pp. 54–67. Tielt: Lannoo, 2010. Kemperdick, Stephan. ‘Abstraktion und Mimesis: Spielarten der Graumalerei in Spätmittelalter und Früher Neuzeit’. In Die Farbe Grau, edited by Magdalena Bushart and Gregor Wedekind, pp. 15–39. Berlin: De Gruyter, 2016. Kemperdick, Stephan. ‘Helldunkel statt Farbe: Sind niederländische Grisaillemalereien eine Schwierigkeit oder eine Leichtigkeit’? In Chiaroscuro als ästhetisches Prinzip: Kunst und Theorie des Helldunkels 1300–1550, edited by Claudia Lehmann, Norberto Gramaccini, Johannes Rössler, and Thomas Dittelbach, pp. 49–71. Berlin: De Gruyter, 2018. Kemperdick, Stephan and Friso Lammertse. The Road to Van Eyck. Rotterdam: Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen, 2012. Koerner, Joseph Leo. The Moment of Self-Portraiture in German Renaissance Art. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1993. Kraft, Klaus. ‘Zum Problem der Grisaille-Malerei im italienischen Trecento’. PhD dissertation, Ludwig-Maximilians-Universität, Munich, 1962. Krause, Katharina. ‘Material, Farbe, Bildprogramm der Fastentücher: Verhüllung in Kirchenräumen des Hoch- und Spätmittelalters’. In Das ‘Goldene Wunder’ in der Dortmunder Petrikirche: Bildgebrauch und Bildproduktion im Mittelalter, edited by Barbara Welzel, Thomas Lentes, and Heike Schlie, pp. 161–181. Bielefeld: Verlag für Regionalgeschichte, 2003. Krause, Katharina. ‘An der Grenze der Bilder: Inschriften, Kerzen, Blumen’. In Hans Holbein d.Ä: Die Graue Passion in ihrer Zeit, edited by Elsbeth Wiemann, pp. 147–161. Ostfildern: Hatje Cantz, 2010. Krieger, Michaela. Grisaille als Metapher: Zum Entstehen der Peinture en Camaieu im frühen 14. Jahrhundert. Vienna: Holzhausen, 1995. Krieger, Michaela. ‘Skulptur als Thema der Malerei im Œuvre des Bartholomäusmeisters’. In Genie ohne Namen: Der Meister des Bartholomäus-Altars, edited by Rainer Budde and Roland Krischel, pp. 222–239. Cologne: Wallraf-Richartz Museum, 2001. Krieger, Michaela. ‘Zur Grisaillemalerei bei Dirk Bouts’. In Bouts Studies: Proceedings of the International Colloquium (Leuven, 26–28 November 1998), edited by Bert Cardon, Maurits Smeyers, Roger van Schoute, and Hélène Verougstraete, pp. 125–149. Leuven: Peeters, 2001.

Tr ansparent Boundaries

Krieger, Michaela. ‘Grünewald und die Kunst der Grisaille’. In Grünewald und seine Zeit, edited by Jessica Mack-Andrick, Astrid Reuter, Ariane Mensger, and Angela Wörner, pp. 58–67. Karlsruhe: Staatliche Kunsthalle, 2007. Krischel, Roland. ‘Ein “vergiftetes” Meisterwerk?: Theologie und Ideologie im Altar der Stadtpatrone’. Kölner Domblatt 80 (2015), pp. 89–187. Krischel, Roland. ‘Now you see me: Klappbilder als Medienwunder’. In Klappeffekte: Faltbare Bildträger in der Vormoderne, edited by David Ganz and Marius Rimmele, pp. 139–159. Berlin: Reimer, 2016. Kutschbach, Doris. Albrecht Dürer: Die Altäre. Stuttgart: Belser, 1995. Laabs, Annegret. ‘Das Retabel als “Schaufenster” zum göttlichen Heil: Ein Beitrag zur Stellung des Flügelretabels im sakrale Zeremoniell des Kirchenjahres’. Marburger Jahrbuch für Kunstwissenschaft 24 (1997), pp. 71–86. Lane, Barbara G. The Altar and the Altarpiece: Sacramental Themes in Early Netherlandish Painting. New York: Harper and Row, 1984. Liedke, Volker. Die Münchner Tafelmalerei und Schnitzkunst der Spätgotik: Gesammelte Beiträge zur Kunst, Geschichte, Volkskunde und Denkmalpflege in Bayern und in den angrenzenden Bundesländern, Teil II, Vom Pestjahr 1430 bis zum Tod Ulrich Neunhausers 1472. Munich: Weber, 1982. Liess, Reinhard. Zum Logos der Kunst Rogier van der Weydens: Die ‘Beweinigungen Christi’ in den Königlichen Museen in Brüssel und in der Nationalgalerie in London. Münster: LIT, 2000. Löcher, Kurt. ‘Überlegungen zum verloren Schrein der Grauen Passion Hans Holbeins d.Ä’. In Hans Holbein d.Ä, die Graue Passion: Staatsgalerie Stuttgart, edited by Elsbeth Wiemann, pp. 91–100. Stuttgart: Staatsgalerie, 2016. Lymant, Brigitte. ‘Das Westfenster der Zisterzienserabteikirche Altenberg’. In Die Parler und der schöne Stil 1350–1400: Europäische Kunst unter den Luxemburgern, vol. 4, Das Internationale Kolloquium vom 5. bis zum 12. März 1979 anlässlich der Ausstellung des Schnütgen-Museums in der Kunsthalle Köln, edited by Anton Legner, pp. 89–93. Cologne: Museen der Stadt Köln, 1980. Lymant, Brigitte. Die Glasmalereien des Schnütgen-Museums: Bestandskatalog. Cologne: Schnütgen Museum, 1982. Mack-Andrick, Jessica, Astrid Reuter, Ariane Mensger, and Angela Wörner, eds. Grünewald und seine Zeit. Karlsruhe: Staatliche Kunsthalle, 2007. Markschies, Alexander. ‘Monochrome and Grisaille: A European Overview’. In Jan Van Eyck: Grisallas, edited by Till-Holger Borchert, pp. 267–275. Madrid: Museo ThyssenBornemisza, 2009. Marrow, James. ‘Illusionism and Paradox in the Art of Jan van Eyck and Rogier van der Weyden: Case Studies in the Shape of Meaning’. In Von Kunst und Temperament: Festschrift für Eberhard König, edited by Mara Hofmann and Caroline Zöhl, pp. 156–175. Turnhout: Brepols, 2007.

161

162 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Mendelsohn, Leatrice. Paragoni: Benedetto Varchi’s ‘Due Lezzioni’ and Cinquecento Art Theory. Ann Arbor: UMI Research Press, 1982. Möhle, Valerie. ‘Wandlungen: Überlegungen zum Zusammenspiel der Außen- und Innenseiten von Flügelretabeln am Beispiel zweier niedersächsicher Werke des frühen 15. Jahrhunderts’. In Ästhetik des Unsichtbaren: Bildtheorie und Bildgebrauch in der Vormoderne, edited by David Ganz and Thomas Lentes, pp. 146–169. Berlin: Reimer, 2004. Möhring, Helmut. ‘Betrachtungen zu Tabula Magna und der Lettnerkreuzigung aus Tegernsee’. In Flügelaltäre des späten Mittelalters, edited by Hartmut Krohm and Eike Oellermann, pp. 127–143. Berlin: Reimer, 1992. Möhring, Helmut. Die Tegernseer Altarretabel des Gabriel Angler und die Münchner Malerei von 1430–1450. Munich: Scaneg, 1997. Niedhardt, Uta and Christoph Schölzel. ‘Jan van Eyck’s Dresden Triptych’. In Investigating Jan van Eyck, edited by Susan Foister, Sue Jones, and Delphine Cool, pp. 25–39. Turnhout: Brepols, 2000. Périer-D’Ieteren, Catheline. Dieric Bouts: The Complete Works. Brussels: Mercatorfonds, 2006. Philippot, Paul. ‘Les grisailles et les “degrés de réalité” de l’image dans la peinture flamande des XVe et XVIe siècles’. Bulletin—Musées Royaux des Beaux-Arts de Belgique 15 (1966), pp. 226–242. Pieper, Paul. Die deutschen, niederländischen und italienischen Tafelbilder bis um 1530. Münster: Aschendorff, 1986. Preimesberger, Rudolf. ‘Zu Jan van Eycks Diptychon der Sammlung Thyssen-Bornemisza’. Zeitschrift für Kunstgeschichte 54 (1991), pp. 459–489. Rasche, Anja. Studien zu Hermen Rode. Petersberg: Michael Imhof, 2013. Rasche, Anja. ‘Hermen Rodes Greveraden-Diptychon nebst einigen Anmerkungen zu den zwei verwandten Werken Schinkel-Retabel und Dreiheiligentafel’. In Palmarum 1942: Neue Forschungen zu zerstörten Werken mittelalterlichen Holzskulptur und Tafelmalerei aus der Lübecker St. Marienkirche— Tagungsband und Ausstellungsdokumentation, edited by Ulrike Nürnberger and Uwe Albrecht, pp. 138–165. Kiel: Ludwig, 2015. Rimmele, Marius. Das Triptychon als Metapher, Körper und Ort: Semantisierungen eines Bildträgers. Munich: Willhelm Fink, 2010. Salm, Christian A. zu and Gisela Goldberg. Altdeutsche Malerei: Alte Pinakothek München— Katalog II. Munich: Bruckmann, 1963. Sander, Jochen, ed. Schaufenster des Himmels: Der Altenberger Altar und seine Bildausstattung/Heaven on Display: The Altenberg Altar and its Imagery. Berlin: Deutscher Kunstverlag, 2016. Schälicke, Bernd, ed. Drei Tafeln des Peter- und Paul-Altars aus der Lamberti-Kirche in der Neustadt von Hildesheim. Berlin: Kulturstiftung der Länder, 2000. Schawe, Martin. Alte Pinakothek: Altdeutsche und altniederländische Malerei. Ostfildern: Hatje Cantz, 2006.

Tr ansparent Boundaries

Schlie, Heike. Bilder des Corpus Christi: Sakramentaler Realismus von Jan van Eyck bis Hieronymus Bosch. Berlin: Gebrüder Mann, 2002. Schoell-Glass, Charlotte. ‘En grisaille—Painting Difference’. In Text and Visuality: Word and Image Interactions 3, edited by Martin Heusser, Michèle Hannoosh, Leo Hoek, Charlotte Schoell-Glass, and David Scott, pp. 197–204. Amsterdam: Rodopi, 1999. Schulz, Johann. Albrecht Dürer und der Heller-Altar: Ein Retabel und sein überregionalen Beziehungen zwischen Nürnberg https://archiv.ub.uni-heidelberg.de/artdok/2214/1/ Schulz_Albrecht_Duerer_und_der_Heller_Altar_2014.pdf (accessed 14/1/2022). Schwarz, Michael Viktor. Visuelle Medien im christlichen Kult: Fallstudien aus dem 13. bis 16. Jahrhundert. Vienna: Böhlau, 2002. Smith, Molly Teasdale. ‘The Use of Grisaille as a Lenten Observance’. Marysas 8 (1957–1959), pp. 43–54. Sommer, Benjamin. Mitteldeutsche Flügelretabel vom Reglermeister, von Linhart Koenbergk und ihren Zeitgenossen. Berlin: Deutscher Verlag für Kunstwissenschaft, 2018. Stange, Alfred. Deutsche Malerei der Gotik. Berlin: Deutscher Kunstverlag: 1934–1961. Steinberg, Leo. The Sexuality of Christ in Renaissance Art and in Modern Oblivion. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1996. Suckale, Robert. ‘Süddeutsche szenische Tafelbilder um 1420–1450: Erzählung im Spannungsfeld zwischen Kult- und Andachtsbild’. In Stil und Funktion: Ausgewählte Schriften zur Kunst des Mittelalters, edited by Robert Suckale, Peter Schmidt, and Gregor Wedekind, pp. 59–85. Munich: Deutscher Kunstverlag, 2003. Suger, Abbot of St. Denis. Abbot Suger on the Abbey Church of St.-Denis and its Art Treasures, edited, translated, and annotated by Erwin Panofsky. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1979. Tripps, Johannes. ‘Studien zur Wandlung von Retabeln südlich und nördlich der Alpen’. In Zeremoniell und Raum in der frühen italienischen Malerei, edited by Stefan Weppelmann, pp. 116–127. Petersberg: Michael Imhof, 2007. Tümmers, Horst-Johs. Die Altarbilder des Älteren Bartholomäus Bruyn: Mit einem kritischen Katalog. Cologne: Greven, 1964. Vos, Dirk de. Hans Memling: The Complete Works. Ghent: Ludion Press, 1994. Vos, Dirk de. The Flemish Primitives: The Masterpieces. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2002. Wiemann, Elsbeth. Altdeutsche Malerei: Staatsgalerie Stuttgart. Stuttgart: Die Staatsgalerie, 1989 Wiemann, Elsbeth. Hans Holbein d.Ä: Die Graue Passion in ihrer Zeit. Ostfildern: Hatje Cantz, 2010. Wiemann, Elsbeth, ‘Zur monochromen Bildgestaltung’. In Hans Holbein d.Ä: Die Graue Passion in ihrer Zeit, edited by Elsbeth Wiemann, pp. 123–145. Ostfildern: Hatje Cantz, 2010.

163

164 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Wiemann, Elsbeth. Hans Holbein d.Ä, die Graue Passion: Staatsgalerie Stuttgart. Stuttgart: Staatsgalerie, 2016. Wilhelmy, Winfried. Der altniederländische Realismus und seine Funktionen: Studien zur kirchlichen Bildpropaganda des 15. Jahrhunderts. Münster: Lit, 1993. Zehnder, Frank Günter. Katalog der altkölner Malerei: Kataloge des Wallraf-RichartzMuseums XI. Cologne: Stadt Köln, 1990.

3.

Regional Boundaries: Rogier van der Weyden’s Columba Altarpiece and CrossInfluences Between the Netherlands and Cologne Abstract This chapter studies how the importing of Rogier van der Weyden’s Columba Altarpiece into Cologne exposes various directionalities of influences in triptych design between the Netherlands and Cologne. Rogier’s triptych adopted the large scale and narrative emphasis of Cologne triptychs, keyed its subjects to Cologne relics, and included motifs and compositional features from Lochner’s paintings. Yet this triptych also showcased Netherlandish features not previously seen in Cologne works, notably, highly recessive (rather than gold leaf) backgrounds, full-scale donors, and complex relations between the panels. Despite the presence of Rogier’s triptych in their city, Cologne artists maintained local traditions of triptych design, drawing more from Lochner’s models than from the Columba Altarpiece, although they were inf luenced generally by Rogierian style. Keywords: Rogier van der Weyden, Stefan Lochner, Dombild, Columba Altarpiece, Cologne, relics

Sometime after 1450, an altarpiece by Rogier van der Weyden (Fig. 3.1) was erected in the Church of St. Columba in Cologne.1 This was an important event because it brought a major, large-scale work by one of the most famous artists from the Southern Netherlands into a prestigious church located in one of the wealthiest and most prominent towns of late medieval Germany. This was not 1 There have been significant questions about the dating of the Columba Altarpiece itself, as well as about the date of its arrival in Cologne. See Schulz, ‘Columba Altarpiece’, Kulenkampff, ‘Dreikönigsaltar’, and Vos, Rogier, esp. pp. 281–282.

Jacobs, L.F. The Painted Triptychs of Fifteenth-Century Germany: Case Studies of Blurred Boundaries. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2022 doi 10.5117/9789463725408_ch03

166 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 3.1. Rogier van der Weyden, Columba Altarpiece, c. 1450–1456, Alte Pinakothek, Munich (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Alte Pinakothek, Munich/Art Resource, NY).

the first Netherlandish triptych to arrive in Cologne: the Werl Triptych, a work commissioned from Tournai by the Franciscan Heinrich von Werl, provincial of the Cologne province of Minorites, was painted in 1438, either by Robert Campin, Rogier van der Weyden, by both artists, or by Rogier’s workshop and likely placed in one of Cologne’s Minorite churches.2 But this work—which has lost its central panel and presently consists only of a donor wing and a wing with St. Barbara reading—had little impact on art in Cologne, perhaps due to its smaller size and possibly inaccessible location; nor was its design, as far as one can tell, impacted by its Cologne patronage and destination.3 By contrast, Rogier’s Columba Altarpiece, produced about a decade later, engaged in a far-ranging dialogue with Cologne artistic traditions. Rogier’s Columba Altarpiece depicts the Annunciation on the left panel, the Adoration of the Magi in the centre, and the Presentation in the Temple at the right. When the Columba Altarpiece arrived in Cologne, the largest and most prestigious triptych in town was Stefan Lochner’s Adoration of the Magi Triptych (Fig. 2.22) produced in the 1440s—a work often referred to as the Dombild because of its current location in Cologne Cathedral. 4 Originally, as a work commissioned 2 On questions about the attribution of the Werl Altarpiece, see Kemperdick and Sander, Master of Flémalle, pp. 288–290. 3 Köllermann, ‘Models of Appropriation’, p. 73. 4 On the date of the Dombild, see Chapuis, Stefan Lochner, pp. 265–266. The attribution of the Dombild to Lochner has been questioned by Corley, Painting and Patronage, pp.133–167, but I accept the attribution to Lochner here (though my argument about cross-influences is not dependent on a specific attribution to

Regional Boundaries 

by the town councillors of Cologne, the governing body of the city, Lochner’s triptych stood in the city council chapel, the Ratskapelle, in the church of St. Maria in Jerusalem. At this moment, just after the mid-point of the fifteenth century, the artistic traditions and, more specifically, the traditions of triptych design within the regions of Cologne and the Southern Netherlands crossed paths. Hence, this is a particularly compelling moment to probe the boundaries between the triptych formats of these two regions, and to assess in what ways these boundaries were blurred both when Rogier’s triptych was produced for export and after it was imported into Cologne. To date, the scholarship on this topic has centred on the influence of Rogier’s overall style on Cologne painters, focusing almost exclusively on particular figures and motifs, but not on the handling of the triptych format more broadly.5 Moreover, scholars have tended to emphasize the influence of Netherlandish style on Cologne artists rather than giving equal weight to influences going in the other direction.6 This chapter is the first sustained examination of how Rogier’s triptych was influenced by triptych traditions in Cologne, and what impact his triptych had on Cologne triptychs produced after the Columba Altarpiece went on display there. It argues that Rogier’s altarpiece was very consciously developed in relation to—and to a large degree in competition with—Lochner’s Dombild. As a result, Rogier incorporated elements derived from Lochner’s triptychs, while also including features that were standard in Netherlandish triptychs but largely unprecedented in Cologne triptychs. Although strongly influenced by Netherlandish style in general, Cologne artists of the second half of the fifteenth century actually did not adopt many of the features specific to the Netherlandish triptych that Rogier showcased in his altarpiece. By the end of the century, the triptych models of Cologne and Netherlandish artists did come closer together in certain respects. But for most of the fifteenth century, Cologne triptychs retained local traditions in the face of the Netherlandish ones exhibited within Rogier’s triptych. For quite some time then, in Cologne, the triptych traditions established by Lochner withstood Rogier’s competitive challenge. Lochner). On the Dombild more generally, see Chapuis, Stefan Lochner, pp. 58–66; Krischel, ‘“Vergiftetes’ Meisterwerk’; and Lauer, Schulze-Senger, and Hansmann, ‘Altar der Stadtpatrone’. 5 See, for example, Snyder, Northern Renaissance Art, pp. 243–247; Martens, ‘Rayonnement européen’, who considers the influence of Rogier in Cologne (and elsewhere); Jakoby, Einfluss, who considers the influence of Netherlandish art more generally in Cologne and Westphalia. Köllerman, ‘Models of Appropriation’, considers specifically the influence of Rogier van der Weyden in Cologne, and throughout Germany more generally. 6 This is not to say that scholars have not recognized influences of Lochner on Van der Weyden’s Columba Altarpiece, as will be discussed below, simply that the emphasis on Cologne/Netherlandish artistic relations has largely focused on the assimilation of Netherlandish style in Cologne.

167

168 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

The Columba Triptych and the Impact of Cologne Patronage No document has yet been found regarding the commissioning of Rogier’s Columba Triptych from a specific Cologne patron. But much circumstantial evidence indicates that Rogier’s triptych was produced on commission from a Cologne resident. One bit of key evidence is an 1801 inventory, which located the work in the chapel of Godert von dem Wasservas in Cologne’s Church of St. Columba.7 On the basis of this inventory, scholars believed that the triptych was originally commissioned by Wasservas for his chapel. This theory, however, was questioned by Anne Markham Schulz in a 1971 article in which she argued that the chapel was too small for the triptych. In addition, she argued that the Wasservas chapel was not constructed until after Rogier’s death, since the chapel was located on the north side of the church, where construction only began in 1467; moreover, the first mention of the chapel only occurred in 1489.8 Angela Kulenkampff’s 1990 article provided additional arguments against Wasservas as the patron, notably that the Wasservas chapel was dedicated to St. George and hence the Marian iconography of the Columba Triptych was not suitable for that location.9 Instead, Kulenkampff argued that the Columba triptych was originally commissioned for a different chapel in St. Columba, the Lady Chapel, a particularly large chapel, about 100 square metres in size, built by Johann (I) Rinck from 1458–1464, which had an altar dedicated to Mary 10 —and only later moved to the Wasservas Chapel. Johann (I) Rinck, a wealthy cloth and copper merchant in Cologne, was the magister fabrice at St. Columba (Kirchmeister, or church master) and a major contributor to the construction and furnishing of the north side aisle at St. Columba; he also founded masses in the Lady Chapel in 1464.11 For this reason, many scholars have theorized that Rinck was Rogier’s patron.12 However, Kulenkampff thought a more likely patron was Johann’s business partner, Johann Dass the Elder, whose son married Rinck’s daughter: the Dass family gave foundations to the Lady Chapel, and this chapel was their burial place.13 Wolfgang Schmid reviewed all the evidence—including the documents, archaeology of the 7 Kulenkampff, ‘Dreikönigsaltar’, p. 10. 8 Schulz, ‘Columba Altarpiece’, 64. Kulenkampff, ‘Dreikönigsaltar’, p. 11, states that 1489 was the date of the consecration of the chapel. 9 Kulenkampff, ‘Dreikönigsaltar’, p. 11. 10 Kulenkampff, ‘Dreikönigsaltar’ pp. 14–22, which notes on p. 18 that the 100 square metre size is unusually large. 11 On Rinck and his patronage in Cologne, see Schmid, Stifter, pp. 26–62. 12 These include Kemperdick, ‘I tableau’, p. 130, and Köllermann, ‘Models of Appropriation’, p. 70. 13 Kulenkampff, ‘Dreikönigsaltar’, p. 27, rejects the identification of the donor as Johann (I) Rinck based on the lack of similarity between the donor portrait and other portraits of Rinck. Her arguments for Dass as patron are found on pp. 29–44.

Regional Boundaries 

building, dendrochronology, and the donor portrait in the painting—and argued that the patronage and original location of the Columba Altarpiece remains an open question, though the patron must have been someone from the family or social environment of Johann (I) Rinck.14 The specifics of patronage notwithstanding, the Columba Altarpiece was no doubt commissioned by someone from Cologne. As a result, the work’s design and themes show the impact of production to suit foreign tastes. Netherlandish art was often produced for export, and the concept of adapting Netherlandish traditions to suit foreign buyers is well known within Netherlandish art. Netherlandish carved altarpieces produced for Germany, for example, frequently have sculpted wings and/or double wings, a format not particularly common within Netherlandish carved altarpieces produced for local buyers, but one that was quite common within German sculpted and mixed media altarpieces.15 In the case of the Columba Altarpiece, it is similarly apparent that Rogier made a number of adjustments to the traditions of triptych production in the Lowlands both to make his work respond to specific dictates from a Cologne patron and to make his work relate more closely to Cologne triptych traditions. As a result, Rogier’s Columba Altarpiece includes features that are unusual within his triptych production and within Netherlandish triptych production in the first half of the fifteenth century as a whole. One unusual feature of the Columba Altarpiece that no doubt reflects an accommodation to foreign tastes is the signif icant scale of the work. The specif ication of dimensions was a standard part of most contracts for altarpieces because the work needed to fit the scale of the altar as well as the dimensions of the chapel in which it would be placed.16 The Columba Altarpiece has a centre of 139.5 x 152.9 cm, with the left wing measuring 139.4 x 72.9 cm and the right 139.2 x 72.5 cm. As such, it is the largest of all of surviving Rogier’s triptychs, although it is smaller than his Beaune Altarpiece, which is a polyptych, not 14 Schmid, Stifter, pp. 240–246. Schmid here raises objections to Schulz, noting that the Wasservas Chapel was indeed large enough to house the triptych and that the chapel could have been erected prior to the first mention of it in 1489. He also raises objections to Kulenkampff, noting, for example, that the donor’s holding of a rosary is quite common, and hence cannot be specifically associated with Dass’s devotional concerns, as Kulenkampff argues. In another, not widely accepted position, Châtelet, Rogier, pp. 197–199, argues that the work was not commissioned by a Cologne patron, but rather was an unfinished painting made for another patron, but bought by a Cologne patron. But the way in which the work was designed in accordance with Cologne tastes and in relation to the works of Lochner, as argued below, seems to preclude such a patronage circumstance. 15 Jacobs, Early Netherlandish Carved Altarpieces, p. 97. The Master Bertram altarpiece from the Petrikirche (Fig. 1.6), considered in Chapter One, is an example of the double-winged German sculpted altarpiece type. 16 On specif ications of size in contracts for Netherlandish sculpted altarpieces, see Jacobs, Early Netherlandish Carved Altarpieces, p. 170.

169

170 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 3.2. Master of the Kirchsahr Altarpiece, Kirchsahr Altarpiece, first quarter of the fifteenth century, Kath. Pfarrkirche, Kirchsahr (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_048367).

a triptych. 17 By comparison, Rogier’s Bladelin Triptych, one of the triptych’s closest in date and format to the Columba Altarpiece, has a centre panel of 93.5 x 92 cm.18 While the large scale of the Columba Altarpiece must have related to the scale of its original locale,19 it also likely reflects a taste for large-scale triptychs within Cologne art. To be sure, the scale of Cologne triptychs also varies, and many small-scale triptychs were produced there. 20 Nevertheless, a 17 Rogier’s Deposition, at a scale of 220.5 x 259.5 cm, is significantly larger than the Columba Altarpiece, but its status as a triptych is not fully clear, as its wings might only have been added in the sixteenth century; see Jacobs, Opening Doors, p. 87. 18 This is not to say that there were not large triptychs produced in the Netherlands by other artists, as well as large, sculpted altarpieces, such as the Brussels Passion Altarpiece, which was exported to Schwabisch Hall and had a case of 195 x 230 cm. 19 If the work were indeed in the Lady Chapel, it would have been in a large space, as noted by Kulenkampff, ‘Dreikönigsaltar’, p. 18. 20 Thus, for example, the Master of St. Veronica is well known for his small-scale triptychs. The Virgin with the Sweet Pea Blossom Triptych measures around 59 x 39.5 cm.

Regional Boundaries 

reasonable body of large altarpiece-triptychs were produced in Cologne. Late fourteenth-century Cologne had a strong tradition of huge reliquary altarpieces, such as the Klarenaltar, which has a shrine of 278 x 334 cm and wings of 282 x 138 cm.21 This trend seems to have carried over to painted triptychs produced in the city. For example, the centre panel of the Kirchsahr Altarpiece (Fig. 3.2), by the Master of the Kirchsahr Altarpiece and produced in the first quarter of the fifteenth century, has a central panel measuring 167.5 x 179.5 cm and had wings, which would have increased its span when opened.22 Of particular interest, though, is the presence of three quite large altarpieces by Stefan Lochner in Cologne around 1450. One of these, Lochner’s Last Judgement (Fig. 3.6), which is generally believed to have originally been outf itted with the wings (now in Frankfurt) depicting the apostle martyrs, 23 measures around 124 x 172 cm in its central scene; if part of a triptych, the entire triptych opened would measure about 377.6 cm wide by 172–175 cm high. Lochner’s Darmstadt Presentation in the Temple (Fig. 3.3), which served as an altarpiece, measures 137.7 x 124.3 cm, a size close to that of the central panel of the Columba Altarpiece. This work was quite likely also outf itted with wings to form an even larger altarpiece. Although some scholars consider the Darmstadt Presentation to have been a single-panel altarpiece, 24 evidence supports the claim that the work originally had wings. One key point, raised by Lotte Brand, is that the pillars at the extreme left and right edges of the painting suggest structures that would continue onto side wings. 25 In addition, as Thomas Foerster noted in correspondence, Lochner’s Presentation likely required wings to protect the 21 On this altarpiece, see Vor Stefan Lochner, pp. 77–80, and p. 25, which notes, however, that the double-winged format of the Klarenaltar is unusual in Cologne. 22 On this altarpiece, see Vor Stefan Locher, pp. 96–97. 23 On this work, see Chapuis, Stefan Lochner, pp. 41–55 and pp. 262–264, and Brinkmann and Kemperdick, Deutsche Gemälde im Städel 1300, pp. 208–215; both sources consider earlier scholars who reject the association of the Frankfurt wings with the Last Judgement panel, but themselves support the inclusion of the Frankfurt wings as part of the reconstruction of the original triptych. 24 Chapuis, Stefan Lochner, 100, note 137, asserts that the work was a single panel, and Jülich, ‘Darbringung’, pp. 32–35, considers the theory that this work originally was a triptych to be speculative. 25 Brand, Stephan Lochners Hochaltar, pp. 19–21. In Stephan Lochners Hochaltar, Brand also sees the inclusion of close copies of Lochner’s Presentation in the multi-panel works, the Master of the Holy Kinship the Younger’s Seven Joys of the Virgin Retable (to be discussed below), and Koerbecke’s Marienfeld high altar wings, as signs that the Lochner model also incorporated multiple scenes and as a basis for proposing a partial reconstruction of Lochner’s altarpiece. Goldberg and Scheffler, Altdeutsche Gemälde, p. 445, however, argue that any connections between the Master of the Holy Kinship the Younger panels and Lochner, beyond the Presentation scene, are all hypothetical. Nevertheless, the general idea that Lochner’s Presentation was originally outfitted with wings remains, in my opinion, reasonable to assume, although there is less basis on which to make assumptions about the exact content of those wings and about whether the work took the form of a triptych or a polyptych.

171

172 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

precious reliquary aff ixed to the work’s central panel at times when Mass was not being celebrated (more on this reliquary below). 26 These wings, of course, would have increased the span of this altarpiece. Finally, Lochner’s Dombild (Fig. 2.22) is especially large, with a central panel measuring 260 x 285 cm and wings 261 x 142 cm. Given that the Dombild was not originally intended for Cologne Cathedral, where its scale would f it the huge scale of the church, but rather for the Ratskapelle, a rectangular space around 14.80 m long by 9 m wide (48.5 x 29.5 feet, a large, but not enormous space, and one only around 33 square metres larger than the Lady Chapel of St. Columba), the Dombild’s scale exemplifies particularly well the taste for large altarpieces in mid-century Cologne. 27 Hence, in requiring Rogier van der Weyden to produce a triptych in a scale larger than Rogier normally worked, the Cologne patron of the Columba Altarpiece likely was conforming to Cologne tastes. But, in specifying the scale of the work, the donor’s intention may have also been to sponsor a triptych that was large enough to rival other large-scale Cologne triptychs, even (albeit at a somewhat reduced scale) Lochner’s Dombild itself. Another critical feature of the Columba Altarpiece that reflects the impact of foreign tastes is the work’s iconographic programme. Specif ications about the main subject matter of an altarpiece were also standard items in contracts. In this case, the choice of the central theme of Rogier’s altarpiece, the Adoration of the Magi, undoubtedly was made in accordance with a specif ic condition made in the contract with the Cologne donor. Cologne was known throughout Europe for its possession of precious relics of the three Magi, which were housed in Cologne Cathedral, under permanent guard, in the famous twelfth-century Reliquary of the Three Kings by Nicholas of Verdun. 28 The central importance of these relics within Cologne is why Lochner’s Dombild, which was made for the town council, also has the Epiphany as its central theme. By contrast, Netherlandish triptychs had no prior tradition of depicting the Adoration of the Magi in the centre panel. Previously, central panels of triptychs with Marian scenes focused on the Annunciations (as in the Mérode Triptych and Van Eyck’s lost Lomellini Triptych), the Nativity (as in Rogier’s Bladelin Triptych) or the Virgin and Child (as in Van Eyck’s Dresden Triptych and his Maelbeke Triptych). Nor did Netherlandish carved altarpieces devoted to Marian themes have any tradition of placing the Adoration of the Magi in the centre of the case; these 26 I am very grateful to Thomas Foerster of the Hessisches Landesmuseum Darmstadt. 27 On the size of the Ratskapelle, see Lauer, Schulze-Senger, and Hansmann, ‘Altar der Stadtpatrone’, p. 10. 28 On the importance of these relics, see Zehnder, Gotische Malerei, pp. 44–45, and Chapuis, Stefan Lochner, p. 61, who discusses the guarding of the reliquary by two permanent guards, which the municipal council of Cologne had established beginning in 1369.

Regional Boundaries 

sculpted works typically centred on the Nativity or the Death and Assumption of the Virgin. 29 Rogier’s Columba Triptych actually represents the f irst known time a Netherlandish triptych depicted the Adoration of the Magi in the central panel.30 While contracts vary in specificity regarding the iconographic programme of the work, most likely the Cologne patron also selected the side scenes included in the Columba Altarpiece. The Presentation in the Temple theme, shown in the altarpiece’s right wing, is another subject linked to relic holdings in Cologne: the Church of St. Catherine in Cologne possessed relics of Simeon, the man (often identif ied as the high priest of the temple) who recognized the infant Christ as the Messiah. These relics were housed in a cross-shaped wooden reliquary, which, very unusually, was aff ixed to an altarpiece the Church of St. Catherine painted by Stefan Lochner (Fig. 3.3) and, not surprisingly, had the Presentation in the Temple as its main theme. In Lochner’s Presentation Altarpiece, this cross-shaped reliquary attached to the panel—which no longer survives in place—was integrated into the pictorial representations in that it appeared to be held by the Teutonic knight depicted at the right of the painting.31 This knight also holds a fictive piece of parchment (rendered pictorially), which bears an inscription identifying the relic as that of Simeon and dates the work. The Presentation theme was not particularly popular in Netherlandish painting of the f irst half of the f ifteenth century. While it does appear in one of the panels by Daret for the Abbey of Saint Vaast in Arras, the Presentation was never the central scene of any Netherlandish altarpiece.32 By contrast, Lochner not only painted the Presentation Altarpiece in Darmstadt, but also highlighted the Presentation in another work, one that may have been a diptych (with wings now in Lisbon and Munich), where it is paired with the Nativity.33 Rogier’s inclusion of the Presentation in the Columba Altarpiece no doubt reflects the greater prominence of the theme in Cologne, which derived from the presence of Simeon’s relics. The appearance of the Annunciation scene in the left wing of the Columba Triptych may also accord more fully with Cologne tastes than with Netherlandish ones, although here the evidence is much less conclusive. While the Annunciation itself is quite a common theme in Netherlandish triptychs, these triptychs usually 29 Jacobs, Early Netherlandish Carved Altarpieces, pp. 54–55, on patterns of representing the Infancy in carved altarpieces. 30 Vos, Rogier, p. 276, which references earlier examples by Campin and Daret, which were smaller, and which were not clearly central panels of triptychs. 31 On the inclusion of a reliquary on the painting, see Chapuis, Stefan Lochner, pp. 84–85. 32 For an illustration of the Daret Presentation, see Kemperdick and Sander, Master of Flémalle, p. 249. 33 On this diptych, see Chapuis, Stefan Lochner, pp. 69–79 and pp. 267–268.

173

174 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 3.3. Stefan Lochner, Presentation in the Temple, 1447, Hessiches Landesmuseum, Darmstadt (Photo: © HLMD, Foto: Wolfgang Fuhrmannek).

place this scene either in the centre or on the exterior.34 Annunciation scenes also appear regularly on the exteriors of Cologne triptychs of the first half of the 34 Some examples of Netherlandish triptychs with a central Annunciation scene include Campin’s Mérode Triptych and Rogier’s Louvre Annunciation Triptych; works with Annunciations on the exterior include Jan van Eyck’s Ghent and Dresden Triptychs (Figs. 2.36, 2.37).

Regional Boundaries 

Fig. 3.4. Master of the Holy Kinship the Elder, Holy Kinship Altarpiece, c. 1420, Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_c004431).

fifteenth century, as seen, for example, in a triptych of c. 1410–1420 by the Master of the Small Passion (parts of which are in the Wallraf-Richartz Museum in Cologne), and, more important, in Lochner’s Dombild (Fig. 2.21).35 But Cologne also had a tradition of showing the Annunciation in the left wing of a triptych. One example is the Master of the Holy Kinship the Elder’s Holy Kinship Altarpiece of 1420 (Fig. 3.4), in which the Annunciation appears on the top tier of a left wing divided into two tiers.36 The Seven Joys of Mary Altarpiece by the Master of the Holy Kinship the Younger is a polyptych with the Annunciation in the left inner wing of a seven-part narrative; although this polyptych (Fig. 3.14) dates in the 1470s, its inclusion of a close copy of Lochner’s Darmstadt Presentation (Fig. 3.3) as its central scene suggests that it reflects a pre-1450 Cologne triptych format, and perhaps even one that repeats some of the original iconographic content of the Darmstadt Presentation’s presumed lost wings.37 These examples raise the possibility that the placement of the Annunciation in the left wing may have been more in line with Cologne traditions than with Netherlandish ones; Van Eyck’s Annunciation in Washington, which likely did form the left wing of a Netherlandish triptych, is 35 For an illustration of the Master of the Small Passion’s Annunciation exterior, see Zehnder, Altkölner Malerei, Figs. 220, 221. 36 This format of showing the Annunciation in the top tier of the left wing is even found in a fourteenthcentury Cologne example now in Hamburg; for an illustration, see Corley, Painting and Patronage, p. 67. 37 On this painting, see Reynaud, Primitifs de l’École, pp. 32–34. The attribution of this work to the Master of the Holy Kinship the Younger has been questioned by Faries, ‘Stefan Lochner’s Darmstadt Presentation’. The difficulty of pinning down the relation between the Master of the Holy Kinship the Younger’s altarpiece and the nature of Lochner’s original altarpiece is discussed in note 25. This work, to be discussed further below, is illustrated in its central section only in Fig. 3.14.

175

176 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

the only known Netherlandish example before the Columba Altarpiece.38 Hence, the inclusion of the Annunciation in the Columba Altarpiece’s left panel—along with its entire iconographic programme—probably was specified by the donor and reflects triptych trends more typical of Cologne than of the Lowlands. Indeed, the Cologne destination may be responsible for yet one more feature within the Columba Altarpiece, which is both unusual within Netherlandish triptychs of the first half of the fifteenth century and within Rogier’s surviving triptychs, that is, the presentation of three separate narrative scenes that form a chronological sequence in each of the three panels of the interior of a folding triptych. While this might seem to be an obvious way to structure a triptych, many of Rogier’s works follow the type developed by Campin and Van Eyck, in which a side panel, typically the left one, depicts the donor (with or without a patron saint), not a narrative scene. This format is evident, for example, in the Campin’s Mérode Triptych, as well as in Van Eyck’s Dresden Triptych (Fig. 2.38). Rogier’s Annunciation Triptych—which originally consisted of the Annunciation panel in the Louvre, with a donor at the left and the Visitation at the right—also had this format.39 No three-part narrative triptychs produced by Van Eyck or Campin survive (although Jan’s Washington Annunciation likely was the left panel of one).40 Rogier did produce two fixed-wing triptychs, the Miraflores Triptych and the St. John Triptych, with separate scenes in each panel that are arranged in chronological sequence. But these were both commissioned for Spanish patrons and have a fixed-wing, arch-motif structure, not the standard folding type of Netherlandish triptych, a deviation that may have been dictated by or oriented to Spanish tastes. 41

38 On Van Eyck’s Annunciation as a likely left wing of a triptych, and for an illustration of this work, see Hand and Wolff, Early Netherlandish Painting, p. 81. 39 For an illustration of this work, see Jacobs, Opening Doors, p. 96. 40 See Hand and Wolff, Early Netherlandish Painting, p. 81, on the Washington Annunciation. For a reconstruction of a narrative triptych by Campin, or a follower, which includes the Betrothal of the Virgin and the Annunciation, see Thürlemann, Robert Campin, pp. 309–312. Perhaps a panel in Hoogstraten with four scenes of the life of Joseph is a copy of a lost Campin narrative triptych, but this remains uncertain; see Thürlemann, Robert Campin, pp. 261–262. 41 Moreover, the Miraflores Triptych (though not the St. John Triptych), as noted in the scholarship, brings a less narrative focus to its presentation of iconography to encourage more devotional responses. Rogier’s St. Eloy Triptych, known only through a drawing of the now-lost painting, also has three different narrative events in each panel: the Crucif ixion in the centre, the Enthronement of St. Eloy at the left and St. Eloy in a Smithy at the right. This work appears to have been a fixed-wing format, and the scenes are not really in a chronological sequence (since the Crucifixion is unrelated to the life of St. Eloy). Its patronage is not known, but the unusual subject suggests that it was produced for a blacksmith’s guild; see Vos, Rogier, p. 384. If so, the work demonstrates that Rogier’s use of the fixed-wing triptych format was not limited to Spanish buyers. But nevertheless, this format represents an outlier within Rogier’s production and within the traditions of Netherlandish triptychs in general.

Regional Boundaries 

Besides the Columba Altarpiece, the only other triptych in Rogier’s oeuvre that folds up and has separate narrative scenes in each panel is the Bladelin Triptych.42 This triptych shows the Nativity in the centre; the Tiburtine Sibyl Showing Emperor Augustus the Vision of the Virgin and Child at the left; and the Christ Child Appearing to the Magi at the right. This unusual combination of scenes links the birth of Christ (shown in the centre) to the revelation of this birth in the east and west (shown in the wings).43 While each scene could be considered a separate narrative, in another sense these three events could be seen to take place simultaneously.44 So the Columba Triptych in fact stands as the only example, within Rogier’s oeuvre—and for the most part within Netherlandish triptychs before around 1460—in which a threepart narrative develops in chronological sequence as part of a narrative cycle that moves from left to right across a folding triptych. This type, of course, would become extremely popular in the later part of the fifteenth century within Netherlandish art.45 Certainly, one source for Rogier’s three-part narrative triptych could be Netherlandish carved altarpieces of the early fifteenth century, which often had three-part narrative sequences in their central sculpted cases. For example, the Nativity Retable in Stuttgart of c. 1440, has the Marriage of the Virgin, Nativity, and the Adoration of the Virgin in the sculpted case (with the Presentation of the Virgin and the Circumcision in the large painted wings, and the Coronation of the Virgin in the upper wings).46 Rogier was closely involved with sculptural production at mid-century and known for responding to developments in sculpture of the time.47 Nevertheless, the specific stimulus here may have been the strong taste for narrative cycles within Cologne triptychs. Cyclical narratives, typically comprising many more than three scenes, were very common in Cologne triptychs prior to the arrival of the Columba Altarpiece. For example, the early fifteenth- century Kirchsahr Altarpiece (Fig. 3.2) consists of a left wing with six infancy scenes (in three vertical tiers); a central panel with seven passion scenes (a Crucifixion scene in the centre and three scenes vertically stacked at each side); and a right wing with six scenes of Christ after the Passion. The practice of dividing the panels of the triptych into registers, which was particularly common in Cologne, allowed Cologne triptychs to have much more 42 For an illustration of this work, see Jacobs, Opening Doors, p. 94. 43 Vos, Rogier, p. 242. 44 Blum, ‘Symbolic Invention’, p. 112, emphasizes the appearance of simultaneity of the scenes here, although she notes that the viewer intellectually knows that these scenes could not have actually taken place at exactly the same moment, even though they appear to be doing so. 45 On the other hand, the placement of donors and/or saints, rather than narrative in the wings remained a vibrant format throughout Netherlandish art of the fifteenth century. 46 On this work, see D’Hainaut-Zveny, Miroirs du sacré, p. 196. 47 On Rogier and sculpture, see particularly, Hadermann-Misguich, ‘Rapports d’esprit’, and Fransen, Rogier van der Weyden and Stone Sculpture.

177

178 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

developed narrative cycles than Netherlandish ones. Perhaps Rogier’s three-part narrative was designed in emulation of a Lochner forerunner; whether this was the case, certainly the likelihood is that each specific scene in the Columba Altarpiece was designated by the donor as part of the commission contract.48 The patron clearly had one additional impact on the Columba Altarpiece. He no doubt requested the inclusion of his portrait, which appears at the left side of the central panel, where the donor is shown behind a wall placed between him and Joseph. The donor’s hands, which hold a rosary, are resting on the top of this wall, with the rosary draping over the wall. 49 But while the donor may have requested the inclusion of his portrait, Rogier must have been responsible for the more Netherlandish manner in which the donor was included: in the earlier fifteenth century, Cologne artists typically presented the donors in a substantially smaller scale than the religious figures, as in the Kirchsahr Altarpiece (Fig. 3.2).50 This issue will be addressed more fully below. One question about the impact of the patron on the iconographic programme of the Columba Altarpiece regards the treatment of the work’s exterior, which lacks figurative content, and instead has marbleized colouring.51 While Albert Châtelet suggested this showed that the triptych was delivered unfinished, it seems more likely, given Rogier’s general lack of interest in triptych exteriors, that this was a planned part of the finished design.52

The Columba Triptych and the Impact of Lochner The impact of Cologne traditions on Rogier van der Weyden came not only through the demands of the donor, but also through Rogier’s exposure to the art of Stefan 48 Certainly, three-part narrative triptychs were well known in Westphalia in the early f ifteenth century, as the examples discussed in Chapter One demonstrate. The possibility does remain that the Darmstadt Presentation was originally a triptych, with three narrative scenes, but, as stated in note 25, this claim cannot be fully confirmed. Brand, Stephan Lochners Hochaltar, argues not only that Lochner’s Presentation Altarpiece had wings, but that each panel showed a separate narrative scene, suggesting, on p. 38, that the work had five scenes and, on p. 48, raising the possibility of additional scenes in the original altarpiece. 49 Because there is a gap between this wall and the ground on which Joseph stands (which is the outermost edge of the sacred space encompassed by the stable), the rosary lies in a liminal zone between the space of the donor—that linked to the everyday world—and the holy space of the stable. The inclusion of the donor in a later stage of the painting, after the underdrawing stage, is discussed below. 50 See Zehnder, Gotische Malerei, pp. 462–466. 51 Vos, Rogier, p. 270, describes, but does not illustrate, this exterior as having imitation porphyry, with black and red flecks, but now roughly overpainted. 52 See Châtelet, Rogier, p. 197, for the claim that this is an unfinished work, and Jacobs, Opening Doors, pp. 90–92, on the general lack of figurative exteriors in Rogier’s triptych production.

Regional Boundaries 

Lochner. Although no documentary evidence is known, visual evidence strongly supports the hypothesis that Rogier visited Cologne in the course of his production of the Columba Altarpiece. The most likely time for his visit would have been as a stop on the way to and/or back from his trip to Rome for the Jubilee year of 1450.53 If Rogier visited Cologne in 1450, he would have been able to meet Stefan Lochner, who was to die the next year of the plague. But regardless of whether the two artists met in person, in Cologne Rogier clearly took the opportunity to see Lochner’s Dombild (Fig. 2.22), the most important triptych in the city at the time. This triptych had an enormous scale with life-sized figures, and it honoured the most important saints whose relics were housed in the city of Cologne, particularly, of course, those of the Magi, the main subject of the triptych.54 Indeed, Rogier clearly did more than just look at the work: he must have sketched after it, since a number of figures and elements from the Dombild were incorporated into the Columba Altarpiece. For some time, scholars have been aware of several close parallels between the Columba Altarpiece and the Dombild. Most notable is Rogier’s adaptation of Lochner’s female saint in green in the left wing of the Dombild into the woman with the basket of doves, also in green, in the right wing of the Columba Altarpiece.55 In addition, Rogier modelled the youngest Magus, with his turban and sword, on the same f igure in Lochner’s scene, transforming the flag Lochner’s figure holds into the tail of his figure’s turban.56 Other parallels mentioned in the literature include similarities between Lochner’s man holding a hat who stands next to the youngest Magus and Rogier’s man holding a hat at the opening of the stable wall.57 Clearly, Rogier did see the Lochner triptych and incorporate motifs from it. But, as Jeltje Dijkstra has noted, some features of the Columba Altarpiece 53 See, for example, Vos, Rogier, pp. 60–61, and Chapius, Stefan Lochner, p. 28. Chapuis, Stefan Lochner, p. 88, is among those who think Rogier’s putative trip to Cologne is supported by similarities between the temple in the Presentation scene of the Columba Altarpiece and the Church of St. Gereon in Cologne. Kemperdick, Rogier, p. 77, also notes similarities between the two structures, but also sees links to the temple in Pietro Lorenzetti’s Birth of the Virgin—f irst proposed by Schulz, ‘Columba Altarpiece’, p. 69—which Rogier could have seen in Italy. Vos, Rogier, p. 284, note 13, sees no links with Lorenzetti; I find all the architectural associations to be questionable. 54 Chapius, Stefan Lochner, p. 60. 55 See, for example, Schulz, ‘Columba Altarpiece’, pp. 68–69. Campbell and Van de Stock, Rogier, p. 116, note the connection to Lochner, but also to the sibyl in the left wing of the Bladelin Triptych, with some elements carried over from other Rogier works. Vos, Rogier, p. 284, note 15, questions the origins of the figure in Lochner and suggests that it might derive from the Campin shop, rather than from Lochner. 56 Schulz, ‘Columba Altarpiece’, pp. 67–68, considers this figure to be an amalgam of Lochner and an Eyckian conception, while Chapuis, Stefan Lochner, p. 86, links Lochner’s and Rogier’s figures. Vos, Rogier, p. 284, note 15, however, raises doubts about this connection, and overall, p. 281, considers that scholars have overestimated the influence of Lochner on Rogier. 57 See Schulz, ‘Columba Altarpiece’, p. 69.

179

180 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

that reflect the influence of the Dombild are missing from the underdrawing and only included in the paint layer.58 Most signif icant are the changes in the paint layer that alter the woman in green and the third Magus to make them more similar to Lochner’s figures than they were in the underdrawing. Combined with the evidence that the underdrawings do not appear to be by the hand of the master, it seems that Rogier’s shop laid out the design, likely while he was on his trip to Italy, and that Rogier, after a visit to Cologne, changed aspects of the painting in the paint stage to reflect the influence of Lochner’s work.59 Further evidence that a visit to Cologne took place after the underdrawing was made is that the portrait of the donor only appears in the paint level, and not in the underdrawings.60 This production picture, however, is complicated by the fact that the underdraw­ ing presents the Adoration of the Magi scene with a centralized composition. Scholars have often cited this centralized structure as additional evidence of the influence of Lochner’s Dombild.61 While the Dombild (Fig. 2.22) places Mary in the centre of the scene, Netherlandish versions of the theme prior to this time normally placed the Virgin on one side, often at the left, receiving the three kings who arrive from the other side, as in Daret’s Adoration of the Magi (Fig. 3.5). Dirk de Vos is correct to note that Rogier does not exactly employ a centralized composition here (because the Virgin and Child are shifted to the left and the kneeling Magus is actually at the centre of the panel).62 Nevertheless, Rogier’s composition appears much closer to that of Lochner than it does to that of Daret—a notable distinction, especially given that Daret, like Rogier, worked in close association with Campin’s shop. If the Columba Altarpiece’s Epiphany composition was based on Lochner, then Rogier and/or his shop assistants would have had to see the Dombild, or at least seen drawings after it or heard descriptions of it before the underdrawing was executed. The fact that Rogier changed the position of the Virgin’s head to make it face forward in the manner of Lochner’s Virgin, rather than slightly to the side as it did in the underdrawing, suggests that Rogier’s knowledge of the Dombild was much more specific after the underdrawing had been executed. Whether he developed the more centralized composition for the Epiphany from examples of other Netherlandish themes presented in a more centralized way or from a more general, but not detailed

58 Dijkstra, ‘Interpretatie’. 59 Dijkstra, ‘Interpretatie’, pp. 88–89. 60 Dijkstra, ‘Interpretatie’, pp. 192–193. 61 See, for example, Schulz, ‘Columba Altarpiece’, p. 67, and Kemperdick, Rogier, p. 72. 62 Vos, Rogier, p. 278; Schulz, ‘Columba Altarpiece’, p. 67, however, notes that both Rogier’s and Lochner’s Virgin are slightly shifted to the left.

Regional Boundaries 

Fig. 3.5. Jacques Daret, Adoration of the Magi, 1433–1435, Gemäldegalerie, Staatliche Museen, Berlin (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Gemäldegalerie, Staatliche Museen, Berlin/ Jörg P. Anders/Art Resource, NY).

knowledge about Lochner’s work cannot be determined.63 But stronger and more specific influences from Lochner clearly came into play as work on the Columba Altarpiece progressed. Rogier van der Weyden could well have adopted the various motifs from the Dombild to satisfy his donor. But the donor likely would not have specifically 63 Lauer, Schulze-Senger, and Hansmann, ‘Altar de Stadtpatrone’, p. 26, considers some examples of centralized, symmetrical compositions in Netherlandish art (e.g., the Sacra Conversazione drawing in Paris associated with Campin), but notes the rarity of centralized Epiphanies in Netherlandish art.

181

182 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

requested that particular figures and compositional elements from the Dombild be included in Rogier’s work, because commission contracts do not typically include specifications about these sorts of details. What the donor could well have specified, though, was the more general concern that Rogier’s work be ‘similar to’ or ‘as good as’ Lochner’s Dombild—clauses that were frequently included in altarpiece contracts.64 But in addition to whatever wishes the donor might have had, Rogier, who by this point was an internationally known artist of great stature, would not have copied elements from Lochner had he not been personally impressed by the Dombild.65 But there was a flip side to Rogier’s admiration for the Dombild, that is, an element of rivalry and competition.66 In producing a major altarpiece for export, Rogier would have been quite aware that Cologne residents would compare his work to that of the city’s most prestigious artist.67 The Columba Altarpiece took on that challenge when it adopted features of Lochner’s art, its large scale and specific figure types. Rogier’s altarpiece also focused on three subjects that were all major scenes in Lochner’s work, not just the Dombild, with its Epiphany on the interior (Fig. 2.22) and Annunciation on the exterior (Fig. 2.21), but also Lochner’s Darmstadt Presentation Altarpiece (Fig. 3.3). Rogier’s work thus challenged two of Lochner’s works head to head. But even as he brought in references to Lochner, Rogier also showcased key features of Netherlandish style that previously had not been seen in Cologne triptychs. By including such elements of triptych design, Rogier van der Wedyen was also trying to outdo his Cologne rival.68

Netherlandish Features of the Columba Altarpiece One feature of the Columba Altarpiece’s design that was largely unknown within Cologne triptychs of the time was the highly developed spatial setting for each scene. Rogier’s altarpiece presents two very recessive interior spaces in the two wings: at the left, the chamber of the Annunciation recedes effectively into a space, 64 For this provision in contracts for Netherlandish sculpted altarpieces, see Jacobs, Early Netherlandish Carved Altarpieces, pp. 178–182. 65 Chapius, Stefan Lochner, pp. 207–209, notes that Lochner’s Dombild shows an increased influence from Jan van Eyck—especially the Ghent altarpiece—which may explain why it was particularly accessible to Rogier. 66 Ridderbos, ‘Objects and Questions’, p. 39, similarly sees Rogier’s borrowings from Lochner as both homage and ‘also as a challenge which prompted the citizens of Cologne to compare the two paintings and to ask themselves if van der Weyden had outdone their own famous artist’. 67 Ridderbos, ‘Objects and Questions’, p. 39. 68 Ridderbos, ‘Objects and Questions’, p. 39, notes that while Lochner is bigger, Rogier is more modern. I have avoided the use of the term ‘modern’ here, so as to avoid appearing to follow the traditional scholarly privileging of Netherlandish over Cologne art.

Regional Boundaries 

which accommodates a large, foreshortened bed. At the right, the space is even more expansive with a very deep rotunda of the temple shown behind the main scene, even extending into a landscape at the far back. The central scene presents a broad landscape behind the open arches of the stable and at the sides. This contrasts significantly with the interior of Lochner’s Dombild (Fig. 2.22) and Presentation (Fig. 3.3), both of which, following Cologne traditions, have gold leaf backgrounds. Indeed, virtually every Cologne triptych in the first half of the fifteenth century had gold leaf backgrounds on its interior (including the Kirchsahr Altarpiece, Fig. 3.2), unlike Netherlandish triptychs, in which gold leaf backgrounds (as in Campin’s Seilern Triptych) became rare by about 1420.69 As opposed to the interiors, the exteriors of Cologne triptychs generally did not have gold leaf backgrounds. Typically, in the first half of the fifteenth century, these backgrounds consisted of solid colours and made little attempt to define spatial depth, as in the exterior of the Holy Kinship Altarpiece of c. 1420 by the Master of the Holy Kinship the Elder;70 or they defined a limited spatial box as in the exterior of the Master of the Kirchsahr Altarpiece’s Crucifixion Triptych (Fig. 2.33). The exterior of the Dombild (Fig. 2.21) presented the Annunciation in a more developed spatial environment, with the floor tiles and ceiling beams receding to create a relatively deep setting for the scene. However, the space at the back is limited by a curtain that hangs on a curtain rod. While this curtain, which is largely golden with a floral pattern, is similar to a tooled, gold-leaf background, it has a greater spatial component in that it is not a flat surface (like gold leaf), but rather hangs in vertical folds that give it spatial depth. Moreover, the continuation of the roof beams behind the curtain (which are visible behind the ties holding the curtain to the rod) indicate that there is space behind the curtain. In addition, because the curtain does not extend the full width of the right panel (though it does at the left), other spaces appear beyond the right side of the curtain—and through the doorway that is overlapped by Gabriel’s wing. Nevertheless, the spatial recession in this scene is more limited than that in Rogier’s work. Thus Rogier’s space presented a level of depth and complexity not seen before in Cologne examples. Rogier van der Weyden’s triptych also depicts the donor in full scale at the far left of the central panel. The donor’s head is the same scale as the other figures in the scene (virtually the same size as the kneeling Magus). And while his head is significantly lower than Joseph’s, the suggestion is that he, like the Magus in the centre, is kneeling and hence is on the same scale as the figures in the holy story. 69 Rogier himself employed gold leaf backgrounds in his Deposition and Beaune Altarpiece, but these represent very rare examples in which this medium is found in Netherlandish triptychs of the 30s and 40s. For an illustration of the Seilern Triptych, see Jacobs, Opening Doors, plate 5. 70 For an illustration of this work, see Zehnder, Altkölner Malerei, Fig. 3.

183

184 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Within Cologne triptychs, there was a long-standing tradition of showing the donor at a reduced scale. Tiny donors can be seen in many Cologne paintings, including the interiors of Cologne triptychs such as the Kirchsahr Altarpiece (Fig. 3.2) where a very small monk, less than half-figure scale, kneels at the base of the cross. Tiny donors even appear on the exterior of Lochner’s Last Judgement Triptych of c. 1440 (Fig. 2.29); here one donor appears on each wing, shown kneeling with hands in prayer position, and less than half the size of the huge saints that loom behind them. Lochner also included a tiny donor on the outside wing of a panel originally from a triptych, probably a small Marian triptych made around 1450.71 Donors close to the figure scale of the figures in the scene were not unknown in Cologne: the Wasservass Crucifixion includes kneeling donors at the front who would seem, if they were to stand up, to be around the same scale of, or relatively close to the scale of, other figures in the scene.72 But these donors are inserted among small-scale figures within the narrative Crucifixion type, that is, a Crucifixion scene with many smaller-scale figures and events.73 Rogier’s triptych, by contrast, presents a full-sized donor amidst other large-scale figures in a single narrative event, a visual and narrative structure that had been seen in Netherlandish triptychs since the beginning of the fifteenth century but was virtually unprecedented in Cologne painting before Rogier’s triptych arrived in town. One other important feature of Rogier’s triptych, which represented a distinctly Netherlandish approach to triptych design, was the complex treatment of the junctions between the panels, specifically that between centre and right panels. In this section of the Columba Altarpiece (Fig. 3.1), Rogier presents the exterior of the rotunda of the temple at the right edge of the central panel, abutting the depiction of this rotunda’s interior in the right panel. Within Netherlandish triptychs it was not uncommon for items to continue across the joint between panels, as is the case with Campin’s Seilern Triptych, where a wattle fence curves around in front of the Resurrection scene in the right panel and continues into the right edge of the Entombment scene in the central panel.74 But Rogier here structures the spatial relations in a more complex and ambiguous way. Although the central panel shows the exterior of the same building shown on the right, the parts do not line up, because each of the architectural elements in the view of the exterior are higher than those same elements shown in the interior: the arches of the arcade, the circular window behind the triforium, and the clerestory windows. This sort of ambiguity quite often forms a distinctive feature within Netherlandish fifteenth-century 71 72 73 74

On this work, see Zehnder, Gotische Malerei, pp. 242–244. For an illustration of this work, see Zehnder, Altkölner Malerei, Fig. 293. This is often referred to as the ‘volkreiche Kalvarienberg’; see Roth, Volkreiche Kavalrienberg. For an illustration of this triptych, see Jacobs, Opening Doors, plate 5.

Regional Boundaries 

triptychs and appears in the relation between the donor panel in Campin’s Mérode Triptych, and the relation of the centre and wing spaces in Jan van Eyck’s Dresden Triptych (Fig. 2.38), where the spaces of the centre and side panels are not completely aligned so that the panels seem both connected and disconnected at one and the same time.75 In the Columba Altarpiece, this ambiguity helps communicate both linkage and separation—both spatial and temporal—between the Epiphany and Presentation scenes. But Rogier is particularly innovative in carrying the spatial ambiguity into an additional contrast, on the centre and side panels, between the same building’s exterior and interior. By shifting the view from the darkened windows of the exterior to that of a light-filled interior, Rogier communicates additional meanings in the connections and separations between the two panels, specifically, the change from the ‘blindness’ of the Old Law (shown via the dark windows in the view from outside) to the glories of the age of grace, when the bringing of the Messiah into the Jewish temple serves to illuminate it.76 Cologne triptychs of the first half of the century did not include these sorts of complex, ambiguous spatial relationships between panels. In many Cologne triptychs, for example, the Master of Holy Kinship the Elder’s Holy Kinship Altarpiece (Fig. 3.4), the wings are divided up into different framed sections arranged on two tiers; each scene thus has its own space, which is defined with its own ground line and a separate, gold-leaf background.77 Other triptychs, like the Master of the Kirchsahr Altarpiece’s Crucifixion Altarpiece (Fig. 2.34), have undivided wings. In the Crucifixion Altarpiece, the Master of the Kirchsahr Altarpiece creates a sense of continuous space between all the panels, with the grassy ground linking across the bottom and gold leaf across the top. This work does include some narrow painted red frames around each panel, but the frames do not separate the panels since the figures overlap them and hence appear to be in front of them. Some tension is introduced because the frames appear to be on the picture plane at the top and behind that same picture plane at the bottom. This serves to make the figures more present to the viewer by pushing them forward. But these frames do not introduce complexities into the relations between panels like Rogier’s treatment of the temple 75 On the ambiguities in these two Netherlandish triptychs, see Jacobs, Opening Doors, pp. 42–43, pp. 49–52, and pp. 80–84. 76 Acres, ‘Columba Altarpiece’, p. 434, notes the difference between the darkness of the windows for those looking in and the brightness for those looking out of the same building. Rogier actually includes a section of the exterior of the building not just in the central panel, but also at the right edge of the right panel, in the section that includes some bystanders outside the temple, and shows darkened windows there as well. These bystanders, which include a man with a yellow cap, may well represent those who question the divine status of Christ and hence represent the blindness of the Jews. 77 Early fifteenth-century Cologne triptychs with divided interiors do not tend to transgress the frames around the scenes in the manner of the Westphalian triptychs discussed in Chapter One.

185

186 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 3.6. Stefan Lochner, Last Judgement Triptych (reconstruction), c. 1435–1440, centre: Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne; wings: Städel Museum, Frankfurt am Main (Photos: wings: bpk Bildagentur/Städel Museum, Frankfurt am Main/Ursula Edelmann/Art Resource, NY; centre: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_d029131_01).

does. Indeed, Rogier includes framing elements around each of his side panels that are far more complex than the simple framing system of the Cologne work. Rogier makes the stone frame of the chamber of the Annunciation visible at the left and centre, but only includes a sliver of that frame at the lower right. Moreover, he frames the opening into the temple of the Presentation scene with a roof that ends just before the right side and columns that are cut off at the edges and bottom to different degrees. In the Columba Altarpiece, then, the framing elements are not devices to push the figures forward. Rather, they both assert and deny intersections between the work’s three narrative events by creating the sense that each scene is both divided off from and connected to the panel that adjoins it. Lochner’s altarpieces follow the patterns established within Cologne triptychs. The Last Judgement Altarpiece (Fig. 3.6) has a similar structure to the Master of Holy Kinship the Elder’s Holy Kinship Altarpiece (Fig. 3.4), with its undivided central panel and wings that are subdivided into smaller scenes. As a result, the space of the centre of the Last Judgement does not connect with that of the wings. Lochner’s wings are arranged on three vertical tiers, unlike the two tiers of the Holy Kinship wings, but like those of the Kirchsahr Altarpiece (Fig. 3.2).78 However, Lochner’s works show a greater interest in establishing more continuous space in certain areas. Thus the wings of Lochner’s Last Judgement Triptych, which depict scenes of the Apostle martyrs, are more connected than the wings of the Holy Kinship or the Kirchsahr Altarpiece wings. Although the Apostle martyr wings were originally divided by wooden frames fixed to the panel, they connect horizontally across 78 The Kirchsahr Altarpiece, unlike Lochner’s Last Judgement, includes vertical tiers of scenes within the central panel as well as in the wings.

Regional Boundaries 

the foreground thanks to linkages in the ground cover, and across the background thanks to the uniform use of gold leaf.79 For example, in the second tier of the left wing, the martyrdom of St. Andrew connects to that of St. John the Evangelist because the grassy area in front of the turbaned woman with the child in yellow at the right of the St. Andrew scene continues across into the foreground of the St. John scene. None of the figures continue from one scene into the next, however. In the Dombild (Figs. 2.21, 2.22), the panels are all on one register, so the space appears to be continuous across the entire interior as well as the exterior. None of the figures (or their clothing) extends across the joints between the panels, but the ground below them appears as continuous. The ground line comes up to about the same height on all the panels and the same grassy elements found in the central panel are found in the wings, with one distinction: as Roland Krischel has noted, the ground of the central panel is all covered in lush grass, while that on the sides has some patches of grass, but also significant areas of bare dirt.80 This situates the figures in the centre in a more sanctified space. The continuity of space in the background of the Dombild is established by the generally even level of the heads, the uniformity of the gold leaf background, and the attached architectural tracery. On the exterior, the spaces are connected by the continuity of the floor tiles, curtain, and ceiling beams. Thus, virtually no Cologne works prior to the arrival of the Columba Altarpiece had the same kinds of ambiguities in the relations between the panels of the triptych—or had the same kinds of background space and donor scale as Rogier’s work. So despite its incorporation of subject matter related to Cologne and its borrowings from Lochner’s imagery, Rogier’s triptych would have looked markedly different from local Cologne triptychs, even those of Stefan Lochner. Cologne artists could hardly have failed to notice these differences.

The Impact of Rogier’s Triptych on Cologne Artists of the Second Half of the Fifteenth Century Nearly all scholarly treatments of Cologne art of the second half of the fifteenth century emphasize its stylistic debt to Netherlandish art. These claims contain much truth if one considers figural style and iconographic motifs.81 But the situation becomes more complex in terms of the handling of key features of triptych 79 These strips were later removed and are no longer on the painting; see Brinkman and Kemperdick, Deutsche Gemälde im Städel, p. 177. 80 Krischel ‘“Vergiftetes” Meisterwerk’, p. 144, feels that this makes better sense with the wings placed at an angle and thereby communicating better the transition from the heavenly realm (in the centre) to the earthly (in the wings). 81 See above note 5.

187

188 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 3.7. Master of the Life of Mary, Passion Altarpiece, c. 1460, Chapel of the St. Nicholas Hospital, BernkastelKues (Photo: fotodesign steinicke, Wittlich/St. Nikolaus-Hospital, Bernkastel-Kues).

design. Cologne artists did not quickly adopt a number of the signature features of Rogier’s Columba Altarpiece. One feature that somewhat surprisingly was not incorporated into Cologne triptychs for some time was Rogier’s elimination of the gold leaf background on the triptych interior. Indeed, Cologne triptychs employ gold leaf backgrounds on their interiors very consistently throughout most of the fifteenth century (although with some exceptions, to be discussed below). Thus, for example, there are gold leaf backgrounds in works produced in the 1460s (e.g., the Mary Altarpiece in Linz by the Master of the Lyversberg Passion, Fig. 3.12), 1470s (e.g., the Life of the Virgin Altarpiece by the Master of the Life of Mary), 1480s (e.g., the centre of the De Monte Lamentation Triptych, Fig. 2.25), and 1490s (e.g., the Sebastian Altarpiece by the Master of the Holy Kinship the Younger, Fig. 3.8).82 But even though these works retained gold leaf backgrounds, many Cologne triptychs from the later part of the fifteenth century do markedly expand the settings of their scenes, likely in response to Netherlandish influences in general and Rogier’s Columba Altarpiece in particular. Consider, for example, the Passion Altarpiece of Kues of around 1460 by the Master of the Life of Mary (Fig. 3.7).83 This work contains a gold leaf background, but this background only begins high up in each scene, constituting only a narrow strip at the top, thereby allowing large areas in which to define both interior and exterior settings. The Crucifixion scene in the centre thus is set into a vast landscape setting, which has almost as much depth, though less detail, than the setting of Rogier’s central Epiphany. Similarly, the Crowning with Thorns on the left wing is shown within an open loggia whose 82 For illustrations of the Life of the Virgin Altarpiece by the Master of the Life of Mary, see Schawe, Alte Pinakothek, pp. 206–213. 83 On this altarpiece, see Schmidt, Meister des Marienlebens, pp. 174–176.

Regional Boundaries 

interior side, marked by tiled flooring at the bottom and a colonnade at the side, recedes quite far back into space—at least as far as Rogier’s temple interior, albeit with a much less effective use of perspective that results in a strong upward tilting of the floor. The Crowning with Thorns scene also includes a broad landscape space at the right. This design differs significantly from earlier Cologne triptychs, which often defined only a narrow strip of space on the ground and had large fields of gold leaf in the background, as in the Crucifixion Altarpiece of the Kirchsahr Master (Fig. 2.34). Even the interiors of Lochner’s triptychs, both the Last Judgement (Fig. 3.6) and the Dombild (Fig. 2.22), limit the definition of space to fairly shallow patches of ground and allow for large expanses of gold leaf behind. Many other Cologne triptychs from the 1460s on use similar methods to accommodate Rogier’s spatial recession while retaining a gold leaf background. The De Monte Lamentation Triptych (Fig. 2.25) has an exterior landscape that extends through about two-thirds of the panel and has its sense of depth enhanced by the use of atmospheric perspective at the back.84 Its Lamentation scene has no specific links to the Columba Altarpiece, but rather has analogies with Rogier’s Deposition (Fig. 4.8) and Boutsian works.85 But the Annunciation on the triptych’s exterior (Fig. 2.24) is one of a limited number of Cologne examples that explicitly quotes from the Columba Altarpiece (Fig. 3.1) in including the motif of the Virgin placing one hand around the back side of the book she is reading. Hence the very deep room in which this Annunciation is situated—following standards for triptych exteriors discussed in Chapter Two, this scene does not have a gold leaf background— is also likely to have been specifically influenced by the setting of Rogier’s Columba Annunciation, produced some 35 years or so earlier. Perhaps even the spatial expansion on the work’s interior (which was produced by two artists in two phases of production in 1480 and 1490) took inspiration as well from the Columba Altarpiece, although more indirectly than the exterior. One additional example of a Cologne work that includes both gold leaf and expanded spatial settings is the Sebastian Altarpiece of 1493–1494 by the Master of the Holy Kinship the Younger (Fig. 3.8).86 Here the scenes of Sebastian’s life are placed in quite expansive if somewhat simplified and stiffly rendered landscapes behind the central and left panels. The right panel defines a tiled interior space in front of a larger landscape space that includes several small buildings, one of which has a receding tile floor. The gold leaf in this triptych interior simply replaces where blue sky would have appeared in fully ‘realistically’ presented landscapes within all 84 On the De Monte triptych, see Zehnder, Altkölner Malerei, pp. 475–484. 85 Corley, Painting and Patronage, p. 184, notes that the intimate gesture of the f igure touching the dead Christ is similar to that found in Rogierian Lamentations, but the fact that it is a donor rather than a saint or the Magdalene who does so represents a new level of elevation of the role of the donor. 86 On this work, see Zehnder, Altkölner Malerei, pp. 284–292.

189

190 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 3.8. Master of the Holy Kinship the Younger, Sebastian Altarpiece, c. 1493–1494, Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_c003172).

three panels. These examples demonstrate that Cologne artists in fact did respond to the Netherlandish approach to space exemplified in the Columba Altarpiece, while at the same time not abandoning Cologne traditions of gold leaf backgrounds. In other words, these examples blur the boundaries between the binary of gold leaf vs. realistic landscape backgrounds that seemingly separated triptych design in Cologne and the Netherlands throughout much of the fifteenth century. To be sure, some Cologne fifteenth-century triptychs did entirely eschew the use of gold leaf on their interiors, including works produced by masters who also executed triptychs with gold leaf. The Master of the Legend of St. George, for example, produced several triptychs without gold leaf on their interiors. The St. George Altarpiece of c. 1460 (Fig. 2.26) has an interior showing eight scenes from the life of St. George, all of which include landscapes that extend almost all of the way to the top of the scene and display a bit of blue sky at the top; the scene at the lower right also includes a section showing interior space.87 The Master of the Holy Kinship the Younger also produced several triptychs without gold leaf backgrounds, including the partially preserved altarpiece with the Virgin of the Apocalypse Altarpiece for the Neuenahr family, produced shortly after 1484, that is, before the Master’s Sebastian Altarpiece, which included gold leaf.88 In the Neuenahr Virgin of the Apocalypse Altarpiece, the landscape under the Virgin recedes behind to depict a Crucifixion scene on the far horizon shown in full colour below a blue sky; blue sky also appears above the wall under the arcades where 87 On this work, see Zehnder, Altkölner Malerei, pp. 250–258. So too, the Master of the Legend of St. George and workshop’s Crucifixion Triptych in the Wallraf-Richartz Museum of around 1485 also lacks gold leaf; on this work, see Zehnder, Altkölner Malerei, pp. 266–269. 88 On this work, see Zehnder, Altkölner Malerei, pp. 275–280.

Regional Boundaries 

the saints flanking the Virgin stand. The Master of the Holy Kinship the Younger did not have a specific moment at which he shifted exclusively from gold leaf to more naturalistic backgrounds. Still, most of the Master of the Holy Kinship the Younger’s triptychs without gold leaf date after 1500, including his Holy Kinship Altarpiece of c. 1503 (Fig. 3.10) and his Barbara and Dorothy Triptych of 1514–1515.89 Indeed, by and large, gold leaf went out of use in Cologne from about 1500 on.90 Still, for many decades after Rogier’s triptych arrived in Cologne, artists from that city produced triptychs with gold leaf backgrounds. In so doing, Cologne artists managed to pull off the surprising feat of accommodating some spatial elements of Netherlandish triptych design while maintaining Cologne traditions of gold leaf splendour no longer in fashion in the Lowlands. Similarly, Cologne painters of the second half of the fifteenth century did not immediately take up the Netherlandish practice of showing the donors full scale, as in the Columba Altarpiece. Several Cologne triptychs produced in the 1460s still have tiny donors: the exterior of the Master of the Lyversberg Passion’s Mary Altarpiece in Linz (Fig. 3.9) shows a donor at the foot of the cross on the right exterior panel who is about a third the size of the other f igures on the panel. Similarly, the Master of the Legend of St. George’s St. George Altarpiece (Fig. 2.27) has numerous donors shown on the exterior, all of whom are portrayed at one-third or less of the scale of the figures in the main scene.91 Other triptychs of the later fifteenth century still maintain a reduced but somewhat larger donor scale. As the century progressed, the scale of the donors tended to increase. Thus, within the opened view of the De Monte Lamentation Triptych (Fig. 2.25), the central panel, which dates around 1480, includes a donor who is significantly smaller than those on the wings produced about ten years later. As with the use of gold leaf, the hierarchy of scale for donors largely fell out of use in the very last years of the fifteenth century and early sixteenth century: the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece workshop’s Nativity Triptych of c. 1500 has full-scale donors, and the Master of the Holy Kinship the Younger also moves toward a normal scale for the donor, especially in his Neuenahr Triptych.92 89 On these works, see Zehnder, Altkölner Malerei, pp. 292–308. 90 However, the works of the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece, to be discussed in Chapter Four, constitute a significant exception, since this Master included gold leaf in several of his works produced around the year 1500. These include the St. Thomas Triptych (Fig. 4.11), the Holy Cross Triptych (Fig. 4.6), and the St. Bartholomew Triptych (Fig. 4.13). A Nativity Triptych produced by the Master’s workshop c. 1500–1510, illustrated in Budde and Krischel, Genie ohne Namen, p. 499, also includes gold leaf. 91 See also Fig. 3.7 for another example of a work around 1460 with reduced donor size. 92 For an illustration of this work, see Zehnder, Altkölner Malerei, Fig. 203. In the Master of the Life of Mary’s Visitation scene in the Life of the Virgin Altarpiece in Munich and London, painted around 1476, the donor also has a normal scale.

191

192 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 3.9. Master of the Lyversberg Passion, exterior of the Mary Altarpiece, completed 1463, Kath. Pfarrkirche St. Maria, Linz (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_050518).

Nevertheless, the Master of the Holy Kinship the Younger’s Holy Kinship Altarpiece of 1503 (Fig. 3.10) still has donor figures in the wings who look a bit diminutive in relation to the saints beside them.93 So here again, in the case of the treatment of the donors, Cologne artists retained their own traditions into the early sixteenth century, rather than quickly shifting to Netherlandish elements of triptych design showcased in the Columba Altarpiece. Other elements of Rogier’s approach to the overall structure of the Columba Altarpiece also had limited uptake from Cologne artists. No Cologne artists attempted to construct anything analogous to the complex relations between the exterior and interior of the temple that Rogier established between his central and right panels. 93 In this way they are similar to the donors in Hugo van der Goes’s Portinari Altarpiece, illustrated in Jacobs, Opening Doors, plate 17.

Regional Boundaries 

Fig. 3.10. Master of the Holy Kinship the Younger, Holy Kinship Altarpiece, c. 1503, Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_c003171).

Nor did Cologne artists for the most part adopt the specific iconographic programme of the Columba Altarpiece (that is, the combination of the Annunciation, Epiphany, and Presentation themes) within their triptychs. Even the specific compositions presented in the three scenes in Rogier’s Columba Altarpiece did not have much resonance within Cologne painting. Barbara Jakoby’s analysis of the influence of Netherlandish Annunciation scenes on Cologne artists indicates that while the Columba Altarpiece’s Annunciation scene did influence Cologne artists, its influence was fairly limited.94 Cologne artists only occasionally adopted a pose or motif from Rogier’s Columba Annunciation: the De Monte Lamentation’s Annunciation on the work’s exterior (Fig. 2.24) does, as noted above, adopt Rogier’s motif of showing the Virgin’s hand wrapped around the book (Fig. 3.1); moreover, the figure of Gabriel in the Cologne work has analogies with Rogier’s Columba Altarpiece’s angel. So too, the Annunciation on the left side of the exterior of the Master of the Legend of St. George’s Apostle Altarpiece (Fig. 3.11) also has a direct connection to the Columba Annunciation in its treatment of the figure of Mary and the inclusion of the motif of Mary’s hand around the back of the book.95 But generally, as Jakoby has argued, the scenes of the Annunciation produced in Cologne were influenced by the works of other, mostly older Netherlandish artists, particularly those by Jan van Eyck, Robert Campin, and Bouts, more so than Rogier’s Columba Altarpiece, despite the presence of Rogier’s work in the city of Cologne.96 In the case of the Columba Altarpiece’s central theme, the Adoration of the Magi, Cologne artists more often followed Lochner’s rather than Rogier’s 94 Jakoby, Einfluss, pp. 157–159. 95 Schmidt, Meister des Marienlebens, p. 90, attributes this work to the Master’s workshop. 96 Jakoby, Einfluss, pp. 157–159.

193

194 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 3.11. Master of the Life of Mary, Annunciation, exterior of the Apostle Altarpiece, c. 1485, Bayerische Staatsgemäldesammlungen—Staatsgalerie in der Neuen Residenz Bamberg (Photo: © Bayerische Staatsgemäldesammlungen—Staatsgalerie in der Neuen Residenz Bamberg, Inv.-Nr. WAF 628).

Regional Boundaries 

Fig. 3.12. Master of the Lyversberg Passion, Mary Altarpiece, completed 1463, Kath. Pfarrkirche St. Maria, Linz (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_050517).

compositional lead. Rogier’s work (Fig. 3.1), while responding to Lochner’s centralized presentation of the theme (as discussed above), nevertheless depicts the Magi all coming in from the right, as they do in non-centralized, Netherlandish versions of the theme. This differs from the more or less symmetrical placement of the Magi at both sides of the Virgin and Child seen in Lochner’s Dombild (Fig. 2.22). In Lochner’s example, one Magus—the one in a brocaded coat—is on the left; another kneels opposite him on the right, with the third just behind him. The Master of the Lyversberg Passion’s Epiphany in Nuremberg also shows the Magi flanking the Virgin and Child (who in this case are a bit to the right of centre), as does the Lyversberg Master’s version of the same theme in Linz (Fig. 3.12). Even though the Linz Altarpiece is often thought to be the f irst to show the influence of the Columba Altarpiece,97 its Epiphany scene still shows the Magi placed at both sides of the Virgin and Child, following Lochner’s model, despite placing the mother and child on the left side of the scene in a more Netherlandish mode.98 The Master of the Life of Mary produced an Adoration of the Magi Triptych now in Nuremberg (Fig. 3.13), in which Lochner’s symmetrical placement of figures also dominates the compositional structure.99 But this work 97 Schmidt, Meister des Marienlebens, p. 62. For an illustration of the Nuremberg Epiphany, see Schmidt, Meister des Marienlebens, Fig. 57. 98 I differ here with Martens, ‘Rayonnement’, p. 41, who focuses on the influence of Rogier on this scene. 99 On this work, which lacks its right wing, see Schmidt, Meister des Marienlebens, pp. 222–223; Schmidt attributes this work to the Master of the Legend of St. George, but the museum in Nuremberg attributes it to the Master of the Life of Mary. My assessment again differs from that of Martens, ‘Rayonnement’, p. 41, who argues most strongly for Rogier’s influence here.

195

196 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 3.13. Master of the Life of Mary, Adoration of the Magi, central panel of a triptych, c. 1470, Germanisches Nationalmuseum, Nuremberg, Gm 21 (Photo: © Germanisches Nationalmuseum, Foto: Georg Janßen).

gives a nod to Rogier in making the third Magus not the figure just behind the kneeling Magus at the right, as in Lochner’s composition. The Master of the Life of Mary instead puts Joseph in the place where Lochner put the third Magus and, positions the third Magus more where Rogier put his third Magus, farther out to the right, and depicts him in a brocaded garment with a peaked cap so that this figure looks quite close to Rogier’s third Magus (the one sometimes associated with Charles the Bold). Similarly, Rogier’s approach to the third scene in the cycle, the Presentation of Christ in the Temple, was largely overshadowed by the influence of Lochner’s version of the theme in his Darmstadt Presentation Altarpiece (Fig. 3.3).100 Most notably, the Master of the Holy Kinship the Younger virtually copied Lochner’s Presentation for the central panel of his Seven Joys of Mary Retable (Fig. 3.14).101 So too, the Master of the Lyversberg Passion’s Mary Altarpiece in Linz (Fig. 3.12) follows the more symmetrical structure of Lochner’s Darmstadt Presentation, in which the Virgin and Simeon flank the centrally placed altar, a format that 100 Chapius, Stefan Lochner, p. 88, similarly notes that Rogier’s Presentation scene was not as influential as Lochner’s. 101 Chapius, Stefan Lochner, p. 88.

Regional Boundaries 

Fig. 3.14. Master of the Holy Kinship the Younger, Epiphany, Presentation, Christ’s Appearance to the Virgin, central section of the Seven Joys of Mary Altarpiece, 1470s, Louvre, Paris (Photo: Louvre, Paris, France/ Bridgeman Images).

differs significantly from Rogier’s portrayal of the Presentation in the right wing of the Columba altarpiece (Fig. 3.1): in Rogier’s work, the Virgin and Simeon meet on the right side of the composition, in front of an altar that recedes back almost perpendicular to the figures. The Master of the Aachen Life of Mary’s Presentation scene in the Life of Mary Altarpiece in Aachen, however, was influenced by Rogier’s Columba Altarpiece. In the Aachen Master’s Presentation, the altar is viewed at an angle, rather than frontally, and the arches at the back of the scene recall the lower part of the architecture in Rogier’s work;102 still, within the Aachen Master’s scene, the prominence of the altarpiece and the central placement of the Virgin and Simeon reference Lochner’s work. The lack of sustained influence of and close borrowings from Rogier’s compositions in the Columba Altarpiece is quite astonishing when we consider the impact of another Netherlandish work in Cologne, the panels attributed to the Master of the Munich Arrest of Christ, which were wings of an altarpiece in the Church of 102 For an illustration and discussion of this work, see Schmidt, Meister des Marienlebens, pp. 116–120, Figs. 171–174.

197

198 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

St. Laurence in Cologne.103 In his Passion Altarpiece in Nuremberg and Cologne, the Master of the Lyversberg Passion was strongly influenced by the Master of the Munich Arrest of Christ’s Arrest of Christ panel (Fig. 3.15). The Master of the Lyversberg Passion’s Arrest of Christ (Fig. 3.16) follows the Master of the Munich Arrest of Christ’s Arrest scene very closely in the figure grouping of Peter and the High Priest’s servant, as well as the body positioning (but not the hand and arm positioning) of Judas and Christ; the soldier pulling Christ along is also similar in both works, although he faces farther forward in the Cologne work. So too, the Master of the Legend of St. George’s Resurrection scene in the right wing of his Crucifixion Triptych shows strong influences from the Master of the Munich Arrest’s Resurrection, the second panel from the Church of St. Laurence in Cologne (Fig. 3.17).104 While the figures of the three soldiers guarding the tomb are in slightly different poses in the German and Netherlandish examples, they are positioned around the tomb in the same way. Moreover, motifs, such as the scarf tied around the hat of the soldier in the foreground and trailing onto the ground, are repeated verbatim. By contrast, Rogier van der Weyden’s compositions and figures from the Columba Altarpiece (Fig. 3.1)—even though they too were right there in Cologne— exerted far less influence and were never quoted to the same degree. Although Cologne artists were clearly willing to borrow heavily from Netherlandish examples, the Columba Altarpiece simply was not one of them. The reason may be that the Lochner versions of the Columba Altarpiece’s scenes were too dominant and hence outweighed later fifteenth-century Cologne painters’ conceptions of those specific narratives. In taking on Stefan Lochner so directly in his work, then, it seems that Rogier ended up losing the battle. But he did not completely lose the war. Cologne artists were surely influenced by Netherlandish art, and by Rogier’s style in particular, even if his Columba Altarpiece had a more limited influence than would be thought. By the end of the century, the Master of the Holy Kinship the Younger was designing his Holy Kinship Altarpiece (Fig. 3.10) in the manner of Netherlandish triptychs. The work has a sweeping landscape background in place of gold leaf and flanks its central image of the Holy Kinship—admittedly a theme more common in Cologne than in the Netherlands— with images of kneeling donors of more or less normal scale paired with standing saints and set into a landscape setting that seems generally 103 On this Master and these panels, see Périer-D’Ieteren, Dieric Bouts, pp. 192–207 and pp. 358–359, and the panels are also treated in Schawe, Alte Pinakothek, p. 303. 104 For an illustration of the Resurrection wing, from a triptych previously installed in the Paulushaus in Bonn, but restored and moved to St. Kunibert, Cologne, see, Schmidt, Meister des Marienlebens, pl. 82; a colour view of the restored triptych can be seen at https://www.rheinische-anzeigenblaetter.de/ mein-blatt/koelner-wochenspiegel/innenstadt/mittelalterlicher-kunstschatz-in-st--kunibert-triptychonin-neuem-glanz-38144918 (accessed 14/1/2022).

Regional Boundaries 

Fig. 3.15. Master of the Munich Arrest of Christ, Arrest of Christ, c. 1485, Alte Pinakothek, Munich (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Alte Pinakthek, Munich/Art Resource, NY).

199

200 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 3.16. Master of the Lyversberg Passion, Arrest of Christ, from the Passion Altarpiece, 1464–1466, WallrafRichartz Museum, Cologne (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_c002409).

Regional Boundaries 

Fig. 3.17. Master of the Munich Arrest of Christ, Resurrection, c. 1485, Alte Pinakothek, Munich (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Alte Pinakothek, Munich/Art Resource, NY).

201

202 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

continuous with that in the centre. The work thus has a structure not unlike that of Hugo van der Goes’s Portinari Altarpiece.105 Nevertheless, the standard view that Cologne fifteenth-century triptychs, and Cologne fifteenth-century painting in general, is largely derivative from Netherlandish sources does not withstand this case study of the Columba Altarpiece. This case study instead highlights the complicated nexus between the two artistic traditions and the ways in which cross-influences—yet also resistance to outside influences— functioned on both sides of the interaction. In this case of regional boundaries, boundaries were still maintained in certain points, even when at others points they became blurred.

Postscript: Memling at the Nexus Between the Rogierian and Cologne Triptych Traditions The complexity of the regional boundaries between Cologne and the Netherlands is particularly evident not only in the case of the particular artwork treated here, the Columba Altarpiece, but also in the case of an individual artist, Hans Memling. As Dirk de Vos and Barbara Lane noted, Memling came from Seligenstadt, a town on the Main near Frankfurt, and Memling almost certainly visited Cologne early in his career, perhaps even training and/or working there for a significant period of time.106 Memling spent most of his working career, though, in the Netherlands, and his time in the Netherlands likely included time working in the workshop of Rogier van der Weyden either before or shortly after Rogier’s death.107 Like the movement of art works between the Netherlands and Cologne, the movement of one artist familiar with Cologne traditions into the Netherlands also blurred the boundaries between these two regions. Barbara Lane examined how Memling introduced into Netherlandish art several key picture types that had been popular in early Cologne art but were largely unprecedented in early Netherlandish art, most notably a strong concern for narrative expansion evident in his use of the narrative Crucifixion type, as well as extremely elaborate Passion narratives.108 These features are particularly evident in Memling’s Greverade Passion Triptych (Fig. 3.18), which was produced for a German patron for placement in a

105 For an illustration of this work, see Jacobs, Opening Doors, plate 17. 106 See Vos, Hans Memling, pp. 15–21, and Lane, Hans Memling, pp. 17–61, on Memling’s origins and on his association with Cologne and with Rogier van der Weyden. 107 Lane, Hans Memling, pp. 35–36, notes that the relation between Memling and Rogier remains unclear, and that Memling may have spent a very short time in Rogier’s shop, perhaps arriving after his death. 108 Lane, Hans Memling, pp. 53–59. Since this lies outside the scope of this book, I am not considering the issue of the Cologne origins of the Virgo inter Virgines theme, something Lane considers, pp. 51–53.

Regional Boundaries 

Fig. 3.18. Hans Memling, Passion Triptych (Greverade Triptych), 1491, Sankt-Annen-Museum, Lübeck (Photo: © St. Annen-Museum/Fotoarchiv der Hansestadt Lübeck).

chapel in the Cathedral in Lübeck.109 This triptych has a central panel with a narrative Crucifixion and presents an extended Passion cycle in multiple scenes rendered in continuous narrative on its interior wings. Such narrative elaboration, which Memling may have derived from his contacts with Cologne, formed part of a trend within Netherlandish triptych production at the end of the fifteenth century, especially in Bruges. Thus, for example, the Life and Miracles of St. Godelieve by the Master of the St. Godelieve Legend presents the narrative of the saint’s life in a particularly large number of scenes, using both continuous narrative and a division of the central panel into three sections to increase the possibilities for representations of various events.110 While narrative elaboration is not unknown within Netherlandish painting prior to Memling,111 the trend toward increased continuous narrative and increased narrative content within Netherlandish painting could well have roots in Cologne’s artistic traditions, with Memling providing the conduit through which these roots 109 On this work, see Vos, pp. 320–329. 110 For an illustration of this work, see Jacobs, Opening Doors, Fig. 81. 111 On continuous narrative in Netherlandish triptychs, see Jacobs, Opening Doors, p. 133. Narrative elaboration is certainly seen in Netherlandish carved altarpieces, as considered in Jacobs, Early Netherlandish Carved Altarpieces, esp. pp. 35–79.

203

204 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 3.19. Master of the Passionsfolgen, Life and Passion of Christ, c. 1430–1435, Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_c014682).

took hold in Netherlandish soil. The incredible density of narrative events within the Greverade Passion—at least eleven different Passion events are shown in the left wing alone—represents a reformulation, within a single spatial setting, of a kind of Passion series long popular in Cologne. An example of this type is found, for example, in a work of c. 1370–1380 with 25 scenes from the life of Christ (and a couple scenes of the saints) in the Wallraf-Richartz Museum.112 But the format was particularly popular around mid-century, a time when Memling likely was in Cologne, in the works of a master named after his use of this format for Passion cycles, the Master of the Passionsfolgen (that is, Passion series). One key work by this master is the Life and Passion of Christ in 31 images (Fig. 3.19), which takes the form of a single panel (not a triptych) divided up into 31 separate compartments.113 Although at first glance Memling’s version looks very different from the Master of the Passionsfolgen, to some degree Memling is simply rearranging the individual scenes of the Cologne sequence into his landscape, sometimes keeping them within small buildings that are not unlike the compartmentalized divisions used by the Cologne artist. So oddly enough, at the end of the fifteenth century, a time when the influence of Netherlandish art on Cologne painting was at its peak, features of Cologne art were being taken up in Netherlandish art. And who better to facilitate this than Memling, who probably was associated with both a workshop in Cologne and with Rogier’s workshop in Brussels? Clearly there was more than one way to blur a regional boundary.114 112 On this work, see Zehnder, Altkölner Malerei, 116–120, with an illustration in Fig 85. 113 On this work, see Zehnder, Altkölner Malerei, pp. 365–368. 114 To blur this boundary in the opposite direction and address the issue of Memling’s influence on Cologne painting—to date an understudied area of scholarship—Memling’s influence on the Master of the Holy Kinship the Younger is discussed in Vos, Hans Memling: specif ically, p. 134 discusses the influence of Memling’s St. Sebastian of c. 1475 on the Master of the Holy Kinship the Younger’s Sebastian Altarpiece (Fig. 3.8), and p. 250 discusses the influence of Memling’s St. Jerome on the Cologne master’s St. Jerome single panel.

Regional Boundaries 

Works Cited Acres, Alfred. ‘The Columba Altarpiece and the Time of the World’. Art Bulletin 80 (1998), pp. 422–451. Blum, Shirley Neilsen. ‘Symbolic Invention in the Art of Rogier van der Weyden’. Konsthistorisk tidskrift 46 (1977), pp. 103–122. Brand, Lotte. Stephan Lochners Hochaltar von St. Katharinen zu Köln. Hamburg: Preilipper, 1938. Brinkmann, Bodo and Stephan Kemperdick. Deutsche Gemälde im Städel, 1300–1500. Mainz am Rhein: Von Zabern, 2002. Budde, Rainer and Roland Krischel, eds. Genie ohne Namen: Der Meister des BartholomäusAltars. Cologne: Wallraf-Richartz Museum, 2001. Campbell, Lorne and Jan van der Stock. Rogier van der Weyden 1400–1464: Master of Passions. Leuven: Davidsfonds, 2009. Chapuis, Julien. Stefan Lochner: Image Making in Fifteenth-Century Cologne. Turnhout: Brepols, 2004. Châtelet, Albert. Rogier van der Weyden. Strasbourg: Presses Universitaires de Strasbourg, 1999. Corley, Brigitte. Painting and Patronage in Cologne 1300–1500. London: Harvey Miller, 2000. D’Hainaut-Zveny, Brigitte. Miroirs du sacré: Les Retables sculptés à Bruxelles XVe–XVIe siècles—Production, Formes et Usages. Brussels: CFC-Éditions, 2005. Dijkstra, Jeltje. ‘Interpretatie van de infrarood reflectograf ie (IRR) van het Columba altaarstuk: Een hypothese over het onstaan van de triptiek’. In Le dessin sous-jacent dans la peinture, colloque V, 29–30 septembre – 1 octobre 1983: Dessins sous-jacent et autres techniques graphiques, edited by Roger van Schoute and Dominique Hollanders-Favart, pp. 188–197. Louvain-la-Neuve: Collège Érasme, 1985. Faries, Molly. ‘Stefan Lochner’s Darmstadt Presentation in the Temple and the Paris “Copy”’. In Le dessin sous-jacent dans la peinture: Colloque VIII, 8–10 septembre 1989, dessin sous-jacent et copies, edited by Hélène Verougstraete-Marcq and Roger van Schoute, pp. 15–24. Louvain-la-Neuve: Collège Érasme, 1991. Fransen, Bart. Rogier van der Weyden and Stone Sculpture in Brussels. London: Harvey Miller, 2013. Goldberg, Gisela and Gisela Scheffler. Altdeutsche Gemälde: Köln und Nordwestdeutschland, vollständiger Katalog. Munich: Bayerische Staatsgemäldesammlungen, 1972. Hadermann-Misguich, Lydie. ‘Rapports d’esprit et de forme entre l’oeuvre peint de van der Weyden et la sculpture de son temps’. In Rogier van der Weyden—Rogier de le Pasture: Peintre official de la Ville de Bruxelles, Portraitiste de la Cour de Bourgogne, pp. 85–93. Brussels: Crédit Communal de Belgique, 1979. Hand, John Oliver and Martha Wolff. Early Netherlandish Painting. Washington, D.C.: National Gallery of Art, 1986.

205

206 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Jacobs, Lynn F. Early Netherlandish Carved Altarpieces, 1380–1550: Medieval Tastes and Mass Marketing. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998. Jacobs, Lynn F. Opening Doors: The Early Netherlandish Triptych Reinterpreted. University Park, PA: The Pennsylvania State University Press, 2012. Jakoby, Barbara. Der Einfluss niederländischer Tafelmalerei des 15. Jahrhunderts auf die Kunst der benachbarten Rheinlande am Beispiel der Verkündigungsdarstellung in Köln, am Niederrhein und in Westfalen (1440–1490). Cologne: DME, 1987. Jülich, Theo. ‘Die Darbringung im Tempel’. In Gottesfurcht und Höllenangst: Ein Lesebuch zur mittelalterlichen Kunst, edited by S. Ebert-Schifferer and Theo Jülich, pp. 10–37. Darmstadt: Hessische Landesmuseum, 1993. Kemperdick, Stephan. Rogier van der Weyden 1399/1400–1464. Cologne: Könemann, 1999. Kemperdick, Stephan. ‘I tableau à II hysseoires—ein Bild mit zwei Flüglen: Wandelbare und nicht wandelbare Bildensembles in der Zeit Rogier van der Weydens’. In Der Meister von Flémalle und Rogier van der Weyden, edited by Stephan Kemperdick and Jochen Sander, pp. 117–131. Ostfildern: Hatje Cantz, 2009. Kemperdick, Stephan and Jochen Sander, eds. The Master of Flémalle and Rogier van der Weyden. Frankfurt am Main: Städel Museum, 2009. Köllermann, Antje-Fee. ‘Models of Appropriation: The Reception of the Art of Rogier van der Weyden in Germany’. In Van Eyck to Dürer: Early Netherlandish Painting and Central Europe 1430–1530, edited by Till-Holger Borchert, pp. 68–81. Tielt: Lannoo, 2010. Krischel, Roland. ‘Ein “vergiftetes” Meisterwerk?: Theologie und Ideologie im Altar der Stadtpatronen’. Kölner Domblatt (2015), pp. 89–187. Kulenkampff, Angela. ‘Der Dreikönigsaltar (Columba-Altar) des Rogier van der Weyden: Zur Frage seines ursprünglichen Standortes und des Stifters’. Annalen des historischen Vereins für den Niederrhein, insbesondere das Alte Erzbistum Köln 192–193 (1990), pp. 9–46. Lane, Barbara. Hans Memling: Master Painter in Fifteenth-Century Bruges. London: HarveyMiller, 2009. Lauer, Rolf, Christa Schulze-Senger, and Wilfried Hansmann. ‘Der Altar der Stadtpatrone im Kölner Dom’. Kölner Domblatt 52 (1987), pp. 9–80. Martens, Didier. ‘Le rayonnement européen de Rogier de la Pasture (vers 1400–1464), peintre de la Ville de Bruxelles’. Société royale d’archéologie de Bruxelles 61 (1996), pp. 9–78. Périer-D’Ieteren, Catheline. Dieric Bouts: The Complete Works. Brussels: Mercatorfonds, 2006. Reynaud, Nicole. Les primitifs de l’école de Cologne. Paris: Éditions des Musées Nationaux, 1974. Ridderbos, Bernhard. ‘Objects and Questions’. In Early Netherlandish Painting: Rediscovery, Reception and Research, edited by Bernhard Ridderbos, Anne van Buren, and Henk van Veen, pp. 4–170. Los Angeles: J. Paul Getty Museum, 2005. Roth, Elisabeth. Der volkreiche Kalvarienberg in Literatur und Bildkunst des Spätmittelalters. Berlin: Schmidt, 1967.

Regional Boundaries 

Schawe, Martin. Alte Pinakothek: Altdeutsche und altniederländische Malerei. Ostfildern: Hatje Cantz, 2006. Schmid, Wolfgang. Stifter und Auftraggeber im spätmittelalterlichen Köln. Cologne: Kölnische Stadtmuseum, 1994. Schmidt, Hans Martin. Der Meister des Marienlebens und sein Kreis: Studien zur spätgotischen Malerei in Köln. Düsseldorf: Schwann, 1978. Schulz, Anne Markham. ‘The Columba Altarpiece and Rogier van der Weyden’s Stylistic Development’. Münchner Jahrbuch der bildenden Kunst 22 (1971), pp. 63–116. Snyder, James. Northern Renaissance Art: Painting, Sculpture, the Graphic Arts from 1350 to 1575. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice Hall, 1985; 2nd ed., revised by Larry Silver and Henry Luttikhuizen, 2005. Thürlemann, Felix. Robert Campin: A Monographic Study with Critical Catalogue. Munich: Prestel, 2002. Vor Stefan Lochner: Die kölner Maler von 1300 bis 1430. Cologne: Wallraf-Richartz Museum, 1974. Vos, Dirk de. Hans Memling: The Complete Works. Ghent: Ludion, 1994. Vos, Dirk de. Rogier van der Weyden: The Complete Works. Antwerp: Mercatorfonds, 1999. Zehnder, Frank Günter. Katalog der altkölner Malerei: Kataloge des Wallraf-RichartzMuseums XI. Cologne: Stadt Köln, 1990. Zehnder, Frank Günter. Gotische Malerei in Köln: Altkölner Bilder von 1300 bis 1550. Cologne: Wallraf-Richartz Museum, 1993.

207

4. Spiritual Boundaries: The Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece and the Border between Reality and Eternity Abstract This chapter investigates the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece as an artist who raises questions about regional boundaries both in terms of his origins and workshop location. In addition, his works engage with boundaries between reli­ gious intensity and humour, and with boundaries between sculpture (monochrome and polychrome) and painting. But the most critical boundary explored in the Bartholomew Master’s triptychs is that between heaven and earth. In exploring this boundary, the Bartholomew Master manipulates space, at times creating spatial ambiguities, pushing figures out of the painting into real space, or giving the impression of recession into an infinity beyond. In so doing, he maps relations between the mundane, earthly realm and the eternal, transcendent one. Keywords: Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece, grisaille, humour, sculpted retables, Carthusians, wounds of Christ

In the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece’s Mass of St. Gregory in Trier (Fig. 4.1), Pope Gregory is shown kneeling before an altar, raising his hands in the orans prayer gesture.1 The altar is located within the choir of a church, with the sanctity of its space emphasized by its enclosure: at the right, a door opens into the choir space, and the lintel at the top marks off the division of the holy choir from the less sacred space of the church behind. Moreover, the contrast between the large-scale cardinal (just behind the pope), who holds the pope’s tiara, and the small-scale cardinal with the staff standing farther back outside the choir, reinforces the separation of spaces, thereby heightening the sacredness of the choir space in which the miracle is shown taking place. That miracle is the appearance of Christ, who emerges out 1

On this work, see Budde and Krischel, Genie ohne Namen, p. 448.

Jacobs, L.F. The Painted Triptychs of Fifteenth-Century Germany: Case Studies of Blurred Boundaries. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2022 doi 10.5117/9789463725408_ch04

210 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 4.1. Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece, Mass of St. Gregory, c. 1500–1505, Museum am Dom, Trier (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_c002398).

Spiritual Boundaries 

of a black stone sarcophagus, which appears on top of the altar. Behind him float heads and objects that reference his Passion, the so-called arma Christi. Among them are: a head spitting at Christ, Judas with his money bag, Peter and the cock that crowed, the column of the Flagellation, the cross, Longinus’s spear, etc. At the top, two angels cling to tendrils that link to form an arch, which surrounds the scene and suggests the tracery at the top of a carved shrine.2 At the right, these tendrils pass in front of the lintel of the door that leads into the choir space.3 Around Christ, an aureole of golden light marks his location in a spiritual realm within an undefined, mystical space. Christ’s body and the floating images around him exist in a place with no clear spatial recession, where all the heads seem to float on the surface of the picture plane. Yet at the same, time the golden glow around Christ, and the deep black area at the top of the scene suggest an indefinable, infinite depth. The undefined space around Christ differs from the earthly and rational space in which St. Gregory is located. Gregory is shown within an area that has been constructed via principles of mathematical perspective, with the vanishing point located under his knees. 4 As a result, the positions of the three other cardinals in the choir clearly can be understood in terms of placement in defined spaces relative to him, at different distances from him and farther in front of, in back of, and beside his position in space. The boundary between real space and supernatural space is located at the edge of the sarcophagus. Christ’s hand and his white shroud transgress this boundary, and blood (under pressure from the cross, which weighs down Christ’s back in the manner of a wine press) pours out from Christ’s side wound into the chalice, which sits on the altar in front of St. Gregory.5 The miracle of the Mass of St. Gregory was understood as a direct confirmation of the doctrine of the Real Presence of the body and blood of Christ in the elements of the Mass.6 This painting depicts the blood of Christ running directly from Christ’s body into the Eucharistic chalice to convey this point. But how this painting communicates this point via the creation of a boundary—specifically the boundary between transcendent space and earthly, rational space—and how Christ’s body (his hand) and blood cross that boundary 2 Budde and Krischel, Genie ohne Namen, p. 448, suggest that the creation of an axis between the purse of Judas and the pope here might be a critique of indulgences. 3 Given the overall spatial arrangement of the room, the tendrils should be located well in front of the door to the choir, which is set back in space, whereas the tendrils lie on the picture plane. But the flattened quality of the top half of the picture makes it appear as if the tendrils attach to the lintel. 4 Budde and Krischel, Genie ohne Namen, p. 448. 5 As noted in Defoer, ‘Peter Aertsen’, p. 137, this combination of the Mass of St. Gregory theme with the mystic winepress theme is extremely rare and seems to communicate particularly strongly the notion of the corporeal presence of Christ in the Eucharist. 6 See, for example, Westfehling, Messe Gregors, pp. 22–25.

211

212 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

make the specific point that the miracle of the Mass, the miracle of the doctrine of the Real Presence, is bound up in a crossing of the boundary between heaven and earth. While boundaries are necessary to this particular painting’s theme, they form a central motif throughout the entire artistic career of the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece. His work and career path negotiate a surprisingly large number and variety of boundaries. One quite basic division is regional, that is, the boundary between the Northern Netherlands and Germany.

Regional Boundaries A long-held belief in the scholarship is that the Bartholomew Master came from Utrecht or Arnhem, was trained there, and then moved to Cologne to work at the end of the fifteenth century. Generally, because his best-known works were produced for Cologne and seen as produced after he moved to Cologne, he came to be classified as a ‘Cologne’ artist.7 But more recently, scholars have raised doubts about these assumptions, and now very divergent opinions exist about where he was born, trained, and even where he worked. Brigitte Corley cited contradictory evidence about the Master’s origins.8 On the one hand, as evidence of the Master’s Netherlandish origins, Corley adduced his participation in the Book of Hours of Sophia van Bylant, thought to be executed in Arnhem around 1475, a work clearly of Eastern Netherlandish provenance, with a text in a Northern Netherlandish Dutch dialect.9 Corley also noted the appearance of the same Dutch dialect in the book held by St. Columba in the right panel of a triptych by the Bartholomew Master, now in Mainz (Fig. 4.15).10 On the other hand, Corley recognized that the underdrawings of the London panel (Fig. 4.14), which formed the left wing of that same triptych, are very similar to the style of Cologne underdrawings and in particular to those of the Dombild (Fig. 2.22), a work usually ascribed to Stefan Lochner.11 Since Corley believes that artists’ underdrawing styles are established in their period of artistic training, she surmised that the Master of 7 A history of theories about the origins of this artist is discussed in Krischel, ‘Meister des BartholomäusAltars—Porträt’, pp. 13–14, Zehnder, Altkölner Malerei, p. 419, and Schmid, Stifter und Auftraggeber, p. 128, hold the traditional view that the Master is a Cologne artist. 8 For Corley’s discussion of the arguments regarding the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece’s origins, see Corley, Painting and Patronage, pp. 221–222. 9 For the dating and localization of the Hours of Sophia van Bylant, see Budde and Krischel, Genie ohne Namen, p. 252. 10 Corley, Painting and Patronage, p. 222. 11 Corley, Painting and Patronage, however, ascribes this painting to a different Cologne artist, whom she dubs the Dombild Master, pp. 133–167. This attribution issue, however, lies outside the scope of this chapter.

Spiritual Boundaries 

the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece must have trained in Cologne, regardless of where he was born. She concluded by theorizing that the Master, after his training in Cologne, went to Utrecht as a journeyman around 1470 and then returned to Cologne. The inclusion of the Dutch text in the Mainz panel, she argued, is not indicative of the artist’s origins or the location of his studio, but simply was requested by the donor.12 Two completely different interpretations of the Bartholomew Master’s regional origins and training were presented in two essays in the Genie Ohne Namen catalogue of the 2001 Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece exhibition in Cologne. The essay by Stephan Kemperdick and Matthias Weniger picked up from Corley’s argument that the underdrawings of the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece are very similar to those of Lochner.13 Kemperdick and Weniger went on to argue that the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece probably was trained in Cologne and not in the Netherlands, where the type of elaborate, cross-hatched, and plastic underdrawing style seen in the Master’s works is not documented. In addition, Kemperdick and Weniger cited the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece’s use of oil gilding (not red bole gilding), enamel glazes, his colourism, rich representation of materials, and frequent usage of silver and gold are features particularly distinctive of Cologne, rather than the Netherlands.14 Kemperdick and Weniger’s close association of the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece with Cologne is strengthened by their position that the early works that many have associated with the Northern Netherlands, including the Hours of Sophia van Bylant, may not be by the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece—and by their belief that examples that have been adduced to show that the Bartholomew Master was influenced by Utrecht painting actually represent the Bartholomew Master’s influence on Utrecht art.15 By contrast, Roland Krischel took a completely opposing position.16 He saw differences between the underdrawing styles of the Bartholomew Master and

12 Corley, Painting and Patronage, p. 222. 13 The origins of the Bartholomew Master are discussed by Kemperdick and Weniger, ‘Bartholomäusmeister—Herkunft’, pp. 26–32. Nürnberger, ‘Unterzeichnungen’, p. 159, notes that the Bartholomew Master presumably would have learned Lochner’s methods of underdrawing not directly from Lochner himself (who died c. 1451), but from masters who had worked with Lochner. 14 Kemperdick and Weniger, ‘Bartholomäusmeister—Herkunft’, p. 32. These authors do, however, think that the Bartholomew Master spent time in the Netherlands and was influenced by Southern Netherlandish art, as noted on pp. 34–40. 15 Chapuis, ‘Cologne’, p. 250, similarly sees the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece as an artist who was trained in Cologne and whose style, in its underdrawing methods, facial types, technical perfection, and colour schemes, derives predominantly from Lochner. 16 Krischel, ‘Meister des Bartholomäus-Altars—Porträt’, pp. 21–22, discusses the artist’s origins.

213

214 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Lochner; 17 and he emphasized that the Bartholomew Master was much more influenced by Netherlandish than by Cologne art and that few Cologne artists were influenced by him. These considerations caused him to postulate not only that the Master had his origins and training in Utrecht, but also that he maintained his workshop there and never moved to Cologne, even while receiving multiple commissions from patrons in that city.18 Henri Defoer largely agreed with Krischel, but developed his claims to propose: that the Bartholomew Master came from an Eastern Netherlandish city (which Defoer could not identify); that the Bartholomew Master was influenced by the Master of Evert Zoudenbalch, a Utrecht miniaturist, who was both strongly influenced by Southern Netherlandish and Cologne art; and that the Bartholomew Master was probably taught by Master A in the Hours of Jan van Amerongen.19 Like Krischel, Defoer concluded that the Bartholomew Master was born and trained in the Northern Netherlands and that the Master maintained his workshop there, rather than moving it to Cologne, though he surely travelled to Cologne.20 If Krischel and Defoer are correct, then the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece is a fully Netherlandish artist, who has transgressed boundaries by appearing in a book on German triptychs (not to mention by being classified for so long as a German artist). However, similarities of style, working method, technique, and materials—along with the significant body of commissions he received from Cologne patrons, especially the Carthusian monastery in Cologne— provide very compelling evidence that the Bartholomew Master, if not Cologne born and trained, had a significant period of training and residence in Cologne. Certainly the Bartholomew Master was influenced by Netherlandish sources, but many Cologne artists were as well.21 Moreover, fifteenth-century artists were highly mobile, and artistic exchanges between the Lower Rhine and the Northern Netherlands were quite common. Jan Joest von Kalkar, for example, was born in the German town of Wesel in 1455 and was active as an artist in the German-speaking Lower Rhenish 17 Krischel, ‘Meister des Bartholomäus-Altars—Porträt’, p. 22, states that Nürnberger correctly points to clear differences between the Master’s and Lochner’s underdrawings in, Nürnberger, Late Medieval Workshop, pp. 190–191; however, Nürnberger, Late Medieval Workshop, p. 196, concludes that the Bartholomew Master’s underdrawing style ‘wholly reflects Lochner’s working method, which strongly suggests that the Master of St. Bartholomew was trained in a Cologne workshop, probably one run by an apprentice of Lochner’. 18 Krischel, ‘Meister des Bartholomäus-Altars—Porträt’, p. 22. 19 Defoer, ‘Meister des Bartholomäus-Altars und nördlichen Niederlande’, p. 220 and pp. 231–234. 20 Defoer, ‘Meister des Bartholomäus-Altars und nördlichen Niederlande’, pp. 235–236. 21 Thus, for example, MacGregor, Victim of Anonymity, pp. 22–25, discusses links to Bouts, an artist who worked in the South, but was trained in the North, and to Geertgen tot Sint Jans, a Haarlem artist (in this case in terms of facial types for the Master’s Virgins), and p. 37, discusses influences from Rogier van der Weyden, a Southern Netherlandish artist.

Spiritual Boundaries 

cities of Wesel and Kalkar; in 1509, however, he moved to the Dutch-speaking, Northern Netherlandish city of Haarlem where he died in 1519.22 Similarly, the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece could have moved between the closely linked regions of the Northern Netherlands and Cologne (also in the Lower Rhine) over the course of his career.23 He probably was born in a Dutch-speaking region of the Northern Netherlands, and relocated to train and work in German-speaking Cologne—perhaps with some additional moves back and forth at various times. The Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece thus likely joins Jan Joest von Kalkar as an illustration of how the mobility of artists facilitated artistic exchanges that blurred regional boundaries that barely existed.

The Ironic Edge Another boundary line around which this artist’s works often danced is one located at the ironic edge between seriousness and humour. The Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece produced works with deeply religious content and received so much patronage from the Carthusians in Cologne that he has sometimes been thought to have himself been a member of this monastery.24 Nevertheless, even his most religious works, as several scholars have noted, include elements that make the viewer wonder if at some points the religious character of the scene has been infused with something more humorous. Corley, for example, noted the humour amidst the pathos of the London Deposition (Fig. 4.2) in the foppish attire of Nicodemus who lowers Christ from the cross and in the acrobatic upside-down pose of the figure at the top of the cross.25 Indeed, the humour of the latter figure is compounded by his physical inability to stay on the cross in that position. In addition, Corley found a whimsical element within the depiction of the saints in the Baptism of Christ (Fig. 4.3) in the National Gallery in Washington, noting that St. Augustine and St. Agnes lean against each other like a loving couple.26 The attributes of the saints, which collide with other attributes or other saints, form 22 On Jan Joest von Kalkar, see, for example, Schollmeyer, Jan Joest. The artist was even active, for a period, in Palencia in Spain. 23 The connections between the regions were such that Utrecht was a subsidiary diocese of Cologne, as noted by Corley, Painting and Patronage, p. 222. 24 Zehnder, Altkölner Malerei, pp. 428–429, discusses earlier theories that the artist could have been a Carthusian, raised by Stange and others, but concludes that this is unlikely. However, Schmid, Stifter und Auftraggeber, pp. 128–136, considers it possible that the Master could have been a monk in the Charterhouse, although he also considers valid arguments against this position. 25 Corley, Painting and Patronage, p. 221. 26 Corley, Painting and Patronage, p. 233.

215

216 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 4.2. Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece, Deposition, c. 1500–1505, National Gallery, London (Photo: © National Gallery, London/Art Resource, NY).

Spiritual Boundaries 

Fig. 4.3. Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece, Baptism of Christ, c. 1500, National Gallery, Washington, D.C., Samuel H. Kress Collection (Photo: Courtesy National Gallery of Art, Washington).

another element of deadpan humour in this work. For example, the arrow piercing the heart that St. Augustine holds comes within a millimetre of piercing the cheek of St. Agnes; and St. Catherine places one finger in alignment with the spoke of the wheel that she carries so that her hand almost becomes part of the instrument used to torture her. But the most striking visual joke in this painting is the angel who holds the seamless garment of Christ in such a way that its hands go under the sleeves of the garment and appear in front of the garment with palms pressed together in the standard Christian prayer position. The reverence of this gesture plays against the oddity of a seemingly disconnected pair of hands appearing in front of a garment that hangs devoid of a body; moreover, the praying hands are held directly over the garment’s empty opening for the head, imparting a particularly ghoulish humour to the traditional motif of an angel holding Christ’s garment at the Baptism. Krischel characterized one way that the humour functions by raising the possibility that the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece’s rendering of the angel holding up an empty garment seems to suggest the ‘headless adoration of a persistent donor’.27 Elements of humour and play seem particularly prevalent in a work, which at first glance might seem especially religiously serious and moving, the Bartholomew Master’s Holy Cross Triptych (Fig. 4.6). Yet nearly every panel of this triptych carries 27 Krischel, ‘Meister des Bartholomäus-Altars—Porträt’, p. 17.

217

218 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

elements of wit, irony, and humour. On the interior of the wings, the Bartholomew Master imparts a witty character to the contrast in the two wings between the depiction (in the left wing) of the Baptist’s enormous bare foot, stepping over the sill almost out into the space of the viewer, and the portrayal (in the right wing) of Agnes’s daintily shod foot, set back from the front edge of the sill to leave space for her tiny lamb.28 Moreover, as Michaela Krieger has argued, the lamb itself, whose diminutive size seems to situate it neither in the world of the spectator nor in the world of the saints, forms another one of the artist’s witty jokes.29 In addition, on the wings of this triptych, older male saints are paired with coquettish female saints, introducing a different kind of humour, a seemingly inappropriate kind of humour generated by the suggestion that the males saints are ogling their flirtatious young female companions, just like secular couples found in the so-called Ill-Matched Pair or Unequal Couple iconography popular in non-religious painting of the time.30 This work ends up creating an odd juxtaposition between the pathos of the central panel and the humour in the wings, which causes one to wonder how much humour has seeped into the central panel as well. The skeleton in the background, whose skull abuts the face of John the Evangelist, certainly forms a gruesome reference to death, an iconographic reference to the burial of Adam at the place where Christ was crucified, and a reference to the meaning of the word ‘Golgotha’, the site of the Crucifixion, as the place of the skull. But the juxtaposition of the skull and John’s head (as well as the leg bones and Christ’s legs) also offers a macabre form of black humour even within the poignancy of the central panel.31 The potential jokes do not stop on the reverse of the image (Fig. 4.7, to be discussed more fully below): here, as Krieger noted, the Master depicts highly plastic images of what seem to be stone sculptures of Sts. Peter and 28 Corley, Painting and Patronage, p. 244; other humorous elements in this work are considered in MacGregor, Victim of Anonymity, pp. 40–41. There is more than humour going on here, as there is also a play in the ambiguity of space, in which the lamb plays an important role, as shall be discussed below. 29 Krieger, ‘Skulptur als Thema’, p. 233. 30 MacGregor, Victim of Anonymity, p. 31; Pieper, ‘Meister des Bartholomäusaltares’, p. 31, also comments on the erotic elements in the tension between male and female saints in the Holy Cross Triptych. On the theme of the Ill-Matched Pair or Unequal Couple in art, see, for example, Silver, ‘Ill-Matched Pair’. The erotic male/female groupings are also bound up with the contrast between the ascetic and the luxurious in the Bartholomew Master’s works, seen in the pairings of the simply dressed male saints and the fashionably dressed females with their brocades and jewels. On the Bartholomew Master’s interest in fashion, see Corley, Painting and Patronage, p. 234, Krischel, ‘Meister des Bartholomäus-Altars—Porträt’, p. 16, and especially, Regina Urban, ‘Die weltliche Kleidung auf Gemälden des Bartolomäusmeister’. 31 Corley, Painting and Patronage, pp. 242–244, as will be discussed below, sees the skeleton as a personal vanitas iconography for the donor Peter Rinck, and seems to connect this with the idea that he was in poor health. Overall, the work shows a plethora of bones both in the foreground and background.

Spiritual Boundaries 

Paul perched precariously on rather flimsy branches.32 Krieger’s sense that the artist had his tongue in his cheek here is reinforced by his depiction, just below the two male saints, of the Virgin Mary with the dove of the Holy Spirit on her forehead and stuck in her hair.33 Other humorous elements in the Master’s works include the St. Bartholomew Triptych’s dragon (Fig. 4.13), a creature that, serving as St. Margaret’s attribute, adds to the amusement by sticking out his tongue in a completely unmenacing manner.34 In the Mystic Marriage of St. Agnes of c. 1495 in Nuremberg (Fig. 4.4), the Master even pulls out a well-known fifteenth-century joke when depicting a fly on the sill.35 As Kandice Rawlings has shown, the trompe l’oeil fly, of which the first surviving example is Petrus Christus’s Goldsmith of 1449, appears in over twenty European paintings from 1450 through the 1510s; this motif was bound up in Renaissance humanists’ appreciation of illusionism, artistic skill, deception, irreverence, and humour.36 It derived from ancient tropes, particularly Pliny’s story of Zeuxis painting grapes that attracted birds. As in the ancient tale, what is funny in this visual joke is the deception: viewers are amused when they realize that they have been tricked into believing that a real fly was perched on the painting (and maybe even considered swatting it away) when actually the fly was only an image of a fly. The joke about the fly, though based on Pliny, is one that is closely tied into early modern sensibilities and values. A number of the other jokes in the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece’s paintings also based their humour on contemporary associations: the Baptism’s angel (Fig. 4.3) with the seamless garment plays on current imagery of kneeling donors;37 and the juxtaposition of the skull of the skeleton and the head of John the Evangelist in the Holy Cross Triptych (Fig. 4.6) draws on the fascination with the macabre that was particularly prevalent around the year 1500.38 But many of the other jokes are linked into longstanding medieval traditions of comic imagery found in the margins of manuscripts. As Michael Camille has shown, the margins of even religious manuscripts frequently contain monstrous, sexualized imagery that bring taboo, subversive, carnival imagery into the boundary 32 Krieger, ‘Skulptur als Thema’, p. 230. 33 Krieger, ‘Skulptur als Thema’, p. 230. 34 On humour and the dragon, see Krischel, ‘Meister des Bartholomäus-Altars—Porträt’, p. 17. 35 On this painting, see Budde and Krischel, Genie ohne Namen, p. 346. The motif of the trompe-l’oeil fly is considered in Rawlings, ‘Painted Paradoxes’. Scholars discussing the fly in this work include Corley, Painting and Patronage, p. 233, who sees this as a popular motif in Northern art, rather than as a joke, and Krischel, ‘Meister des Bartholomäus-Altars—Porträt’, p. 17, who recognizes the humour here along with the links to traditions of artistic praise. 36 Rawlings, ‘Painted Paradoxes’, pp. 7–11. 37 On this issue, see, for example, Falque, Devotional Portraiture. 38 Binsky, Medieval Death, pp. 153–163.

219

220 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 4.4. Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece, Mystic Marriage of St. Agnes, c. 1495, Germanisches Nationalmuseum, Nuremberg, Gm 1634 (Photo: © Germanisches Nationalmuseum, Foto: Georg Janßen).

regions of these texts.39 Considered from this perspective, the precariously perched Nicodemus of the London Deposition (Fig. 4.2) should be viewed less as a jarring or bizarre note of levity within a religiously intense scene, and more as one of the 39 Camille, Image on the Edge.

Spiritual Boundaries 

somersaulting figures from the margins of a manuscript who has managed to slip into the centre. 40 Likewise, the hints of erotic possibilities between the paired saints in the wings of the triptychs descend from the sexualized imagery found in marginalia, transferred now onto the side panels of the triptych.41 The monks who saw the triptychs of the Bartholomew Master on the altars inside the rood screen of the Charterhouse would have been quite familiar with the sorts of marginalia ‘on the edges’ of manuscripts, in the cloisters and in churches, and their humorous character, as well as the paradoxical nature of their juxtapositions with religious imagery. Similarly, the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece no doubt was well aware of the conventions of manuscript illumination and how his triptychs adapted some of the more humorous elements from the margins of manuscripts into his various panel paintings. 42 But the presence of these traditions meant that neither artist nor audience likely would have had a problem with triptychs that effected a slight shifting of some of the boundaries between religious intensity and humour. One modern aspect of the humour here, however, derives from the viewer’s awareness that the artist is making an ironic, self-aware presentation of this content. Viewers sense the consciousness behind the choices here: that the artist knows that the dragon is funny (and is not trying to make it scary and failing to do so); that the artist knows that he is setting up an erotic potential between the male and female saints that is funny because of its unexpected nature; and that the artist knows that the fly on the sill is a historically well-known, witty reference to an artist’s illusionistic skills. This self-awareness helps create the humour in these works. But the joke about the fly, in particular, has other implications that go beyond humour. The trompe l’oeil fly, in fooling the eye with its illusionistic realism, ends up ultimately drawing attention to the artifice of painting, when viewers see through the trick. 43 Hence the fly embodies another element of self-awareness within the oeuvre of the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece, that is, his self-awareness about and reflection on the pictorial medium.

The Boundaries of Media The Bartholomew Master’s attention to media is evident in the way he regularly seeks to evoke, within the medium of painting, the effects of sculpted images. This is particularly evident in his triptychs, which regularly include a variety of elements that 40 I am indebted to exchanges with Jennifer Greenhill for my thinking on this issue. 41 See, for example, Camille, Image on the Edge. 42 This would have been particularly likely if the Bartholomew Master had himself been involved in the production of the Hours of Sophia van Bylant, even though this manuscript had no marginalia itself. 43 Rawlings, ‘Painted Paradoxes’, p. 11.

221

222 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

reference the medium of sculpture.44 The Holy Cross Triptych (Fig. 4.6), for example, contains a number of striking features commonly associated with sculpted retables, especially those from German-speaking regions, such as Michel and Gregor Erhart’s Blaubeuren Altarpiece of 1493–1494 (Fig. 4.5). The most notable of these sculptural features in the Holy Cross Triptych are its inclusion of a gilded shrine in the central panel and tracery decoration at the top of each panel.45 The Holy Cross Triptych also contains other characteristics—as Felix Prinz argues in his discussion of the Holy Cross as well as the St. Bartholomew Triptych (Fig. 4.13)—that make the images in the work take on the appearance of sculpted images, without actually trying to portray the images illusionistically as polychromed sculptures.46 The Bartholomew Master communicates the effect of sculpted images via the extremely strong modelling of the faces and drapery, which gives the figures the markedly plastic effect so distinctive of his works; via the lack of movement of his figures; and via his focused attention to detail and material, including, as Krischel has noted, a careful imitation of metalwork.47 In addition, the wings of the Holy Cross Triptych—like the wings of the St. Thomas Triptych (Fig. 4.11) and the entire St. Bartholomew Triptych (Fig. 4.13)—present a line-up of saints, suggestive of the rows of statues of saints in sculpted shrines.48 The Bartholomew Master’s panels that depict standing saints include distant landscapes that emphasize the closeness of the figures, thereby evoking sculpted retables, where the plasticity of the sculptural medium gives the holy figures a presence and immediacy more intrinsic to sculpture than to painting.49 This immediacy seems to be a key element of what the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece wants to gain through the sculptural references he incorporates into many of his painted triptychs. The Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece’s self-awareness about the pictorial medium is, of course, especially invoked in his use of grisaille on the exteriors of his Holy Cross and St. Thomas Triptychs (Figs. 4.7, 4.12). These grisailles, as discussed in Chapter Two, are very rare examples of grey monochrome on the exterior of German f ifteenth-century triptychs which are depicted in the form of f ictive 44 Prinz, Gemalte Skulpturenretabel, pp. 175–227, has presented the most sustained study of these features, focusing specifically on the St. Bartholomew Triptych; my analysis here owes much to his observations. The play of media in the Holy Cross Triptych is also considered in Rimmele, Triptychon als Metapher, p. 269. 45 For Erhart’s work, see Baxandall, Limewood Sculptors, p. 68. The tooled gold background at the back of the shrine of this sculpted altarpiece is similar to the cloths of honour found in the Holy Cross Triptych and other Bartholomew Master altarpieces—a motif that evokes the cloths placed behind and on the altar, as noted by Prinz, Gemalte Skulpturenretabel, p. 217. 46 Prinz, Gemalte Skulpturenretabel, pp. 202–203. 47 Krischel, ‘Meister des Bartholomäus-Altars—Porträt’, p. 16. 48 Prinz, Gemalte Skulpturenretabel, p. 188. 49 The Blaubeuren Altarpiece (Fig. 4.5) demonstrates the immediacy of the standing figures of sculpted saints in its central panel. For an example of an altarpiece with standing saints in the side wings, see Baxandall, Limewood Sculptors, p. 65, Fig. 40, for the Master H.L. altarpiece in Breisach.

Spiritual Boundaries 

Fig. 4.5. Michel Erhart, Blaubeuren Altarpiece, 1493–1494, Benedictine Abbey Church, Blaubeuren (Photo: Erich Lessing/Art Resource, NY).

223

224 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

sculptures, the predominant mode in earlier f ifteenth-century Netherlandish art.50 Like early fifteenth-century Netherlandish grisailles, the grisaille figures of Mary and Gabriel in the Annunciation scene on the exterior of the Holy Cross Triptych (Fig. 4.7) are placed on pedestals and articulated in a sculptural manner. In some places, the edges of the drapery are shown with the sharpness and thickness associated with stone, rather than with the material of cloth: at the left, a section of the Virgin’s drapery stands up vertically on the ground and forms a circular loop showing a thick edge in a manner not possible in any textile material, but only possible in stone. Similarly, the banderols on this exterior have a thickness at their edges, which asserts a stony character, not the expected cloth materiality of a ‘real’ banderol. In addition, of course, the overall grey tonality of the entire image, including the areas of flesh of the figures, asserts that these figures are stone sculptures. Yet at the same time, the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece includes elements that contradict the fiction of sculpture. One element, as discussed above, is the placement of Sts. Peter and Paul, seemingly as heavy stone sculptures, perched on curving branches, which, though seemingly also made of stone, look far too flimsy to support the weight of two large stone statues. In addition, the sculptures thrust aggressively out of their niches in ways not normally seen in actual sculptures. The base of the branches jut in front of the side of the niche, intruding into the space in front of the niche and hence the feet of the two saints, including the bare toes of St. Peter, which are seen from below, extend into the space of the viewer. So too, St. Paul, who bends forward holding a sword, projects out of the space of the niche (more on the breaking through the boundaries between the painting and the real world below). None of this, especially the two-tier nature of the structure, really looks like anything one would see in real sculptural displays in a church. Nor is the treatment of the hair and the beards, the dark pupils of the figures, and the block-like character of the books handled in the manner of actual sculptures. On the one hand, the Bartholomew Master’s ‘sculpted’ rendition of a book looks more stony than actual stone versions of books, such as Jeremiah’s book in Sluter’s Well of Moses, in which the pages are more curved and separated than those in Peter’s book.51 On the other hand, the Bartholomew Master paints the hair and beards more pictorially than a sculptor could render them.52

50 Indeed, this anomaly provides a rationale to locate the Master’s origins in the Northern Netherlands rather than in Germany, but it could also simply reflect Netherlandish influences. 51 For an illustration of this work, see Jacobs, Thresholds and Boundaries, p. 46. 52 The stonier quality of the book is similar to that seen in Hugo van der Goes’s Portinari Altarpiece exterior (Fig. 2.30), as noted by Kemperdick, ‘Abstraction und Mimesis’, p. 29; the way in which the dark pupils and rendering of the hair deviate from sculpture is noted by Krieger, ‘Skulptur als Thema’, p. 228.

Spiritual Boundaries 

Similar sorts of contradictions appear in the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece’s other grisaille exterior, that of the St. Thomas Triptych (Fig. 4.12). Here the f igures of Sts. Symphorosa and Felicitas are set into niches and placed on pedestals inscribed with their names in the manner of sculpture and rendered in grey tones like stone. However, they are each surrounded by their seven children, in a f igure grouping far more populous than normally seen within monumental stone sculptures in church settings. Moreover, the banderols in front are rendered in brownish tones, bringing unexpected colour into the scene.53 Indeed, in the St. Felicitas panel, the banderol is cut into pieces and scattered throughout the scene, thereby adding to the work’s pictorial illusionism. The Bartholomew Master thus plays with the conventions of the banderol in a humorous way,54 allowing the labels to both evoke and contravene the f iction of sculpture. These grisailles—by adding elements that contradict the images’ own claims to represent sculpture—end up calling attention to the nature of the representation. As discussed in Chapter Two, the grisailles of the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece, like other f ifteenth-century pseudo-sculptural grisailles, address Medialität through a reflection on the pictorial medium, which derives from an interrogation of its boundaries with the medium of sculpture. But while the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece’s works engage with a wide variety of boundaries—boundaries between Germany and the Netherlands, between humour and seriousness, and between the media of sculpture and painting—a central boundary in his work is that between heaven and earth, that is, between the realm of the spiritual, transcendent, and eternal and that of the terrestrial, mundane, and temporal. This boundary is one that the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece largely explores in spatial terms through a push and pull between the space in front of his paintings (which is the space in the realm of the real world where the viewers exist) and the infinite space that he opens up seemingly behind his paintings (which is the heavenly space occupied by the holy figures he depicts in his scenes). This play between real and transcendent space is found throughout the oeuvre of the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece, but his three major triptychs are especially important sites where these spatial/ spiritual borders are intensely interrogated.

53 Another change in tonality, the shift from warm tonalities in the background to cooler tones in the foreground in the grisailles in both the St. Thomas and Holy Cross Triptychs, is noted by Schaefer, Frohmert, Klinkhammer, and Steinbüchel, ‘Technologische Untersuchung’, p. 128. This colouration change also imparts a more pictorial character to the grisailles. 54 This forms another aspect of the Master’s play with humour discussed above.

225

226 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 4.6. Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece, Holy Cross Triptych, c. 1490–1495, Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_c000031).

The Holy Cross Triptych The Holy Cross Triptych, dated c. 1490–1495 (Figs. 4.6, 4.7), was produced on commission from the lawyer and professor at the University of Cologne, Peter Rinck.55 Rinck initially placed this triptych within his private chapel, and later, it was included among the large group of items from this chapel (along with the St. Thomas Triptych, Figs. 4.11, 4.12), which he bequeathed upon his 1501 death to the church in the Carthusian monastery of St. Barbara in Cologne, where Rinck had previously made many donations.56 Rinck’s connections to this monastery were extremely strong: he had tried to become a monk in that very Charterhouse (although he had abandoned this plan for health reasons), and he was buried below the door of the 55 Although the work has been dated variously, and often considered to be later in date, c. 1500–1501, as noted by Zehnder, Altkölner Malerei, pp. 438–439, the dendrochronological analysis on the panels have caused several scholars to argue for an earlier dating of this work. Melster and Klein, ‘Kunsthistorische Datierungsvorschläge’, pp. 186–187, posit the earliest possible date for the wood as after 1480 and probably from 1494. Budde and Krischel, Genie ohne Namen, p. 376, also point to the costumes and the relation of the wording on the inscription on the cross to a 1492 work in Rome as evidence for an earlier date. 56 On Rinck as a patron, see Schmid, Stifter und Auftraggeber, pp. 63–139.

Spiritual Boundaries 

Fig. 4.7. Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece, Annunciation and Sts. Peter and Paul, exterior of the Holy Cross Triptych, c. 1490–1495, Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_c004967).

227

228 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

monastery’s chapter house.57 In 1481, Rinck endowed the monastery church’s rood screen, which had two altars attached to it, including one dedicated to the Exaltation of the Holy Cross, which itself contained a relic of the Holy Cross.58 The Holy Cross Triptych was not produced until at least ten years after this endowment, and was used in Rinck’s home until 1501. The work thus seems to have been planned solely for Rinck’s private use, not with an eye toward donation to the Charterhouse, and the saints in it selected based on his private devotional concerns.59 The triptych’s interior depicts a central image of Christ on the cross flanked by Mary and John the Evangelist, with the Magdalene embracing the foot of the cross from behind. This traditional Crucifixion grouping, which is shown within a gilded shrine reminiscent of and influenced by Rogier van der Weyden’s Deposition (Fig. 4.8),60 is expanded with the inclusion of two saints rarely found in this context, St. Jerome at the left and St. Thomas at the right. The saints in the wings—arranged in the male/female couplings found throughout the Bartholomew Master’s works—include John the Baptist and Cecilia in the left wing, and Alexius and Agnes in the right wing. The exterior of the triptych (Fig. 4.7), as noted above, depicts the Annunciation, one of the most common scenes on triptych exteriors and a fitting iconographic complement to an interior scene that represents the Incarnation, the beginning of Christ’s salvific mission, which ends in his sacrifice on the cross depicted on the interior.61 The imagery of the Annunciation here, however, is combined with the 57 On Rinck’s patronage of the Charterhouse in Cologne, donation of his private chapel inventory, and burial at the Charterhouse, see Schmid, ‘Netzwerk-Analysen’, pp. 52–61. Schmid, p. 61, notes that Rinck wanted to be buried at the entrance to the chapter house because this was where the monks said the office of the dead every night and hence they would walk over his grave every time they went to do this. On Rinck’s attempt at the monastic life, see also Corley, Painting and Patronage, p. 310. 58 On the endowment, see Schmid, Stifter und Auftraggeber, p. 71, and Corley, Painting and Patronage, p. 294, note 59, which lists the relics in this altar. 59 Schmid, Stifter und Auftraggeber, pp. 108–126, argues that the Holy Cross Triptych was not planned for this altar and links the saints included to Rinck’s personal concerns and donations, particularly to his son’s name, Jerome, to his concern for saints engaged with donations to the poor, healing of the sick, and the mentally ill, and to reformed prostitutes. Schmid, p. 108, also notes that the dedication of the altar is to the raising of the cross, not the Crucifixion, the main subject of the triptych. Similarly, Corley, Painting and Patronage, p. 241, does not think that the triptych was planned to be a donation to the Charterhouse since she thinks it mainly has personal saints on it, rather than Carthusian ones and also lacks Rinck’s coat of arms, which would have identified it in a more public location. Budde and Krischel, Genie ohne Namen, p. 376, do not think that the triptych was planned specifically for the 1481 dedicated Exaltation of the Cross altar, but do suggest that the triptych was intended for the Charterhouse, since it depicts the Carthusian cloister in the right wing. Given the focus of this book, the specifics of the choice of saints in this and other triptychs will not be considered here. 60 On links to Rogier van der Weyden, see especially Kemperdick and Weniger, ‘Bartholomäusmeister—Herkunft’, pp. 34–36, and Krieger, ‘Skulptur als Thema’, pp. 231–234. 61 It should be noted that the angel Gabriel here wears an unusual brooch with the image of a three-headed Trinity, which could be seen as related to the altar’s dedication to the Holy Trinity; on this dedication,

Spiritual Boundaries 

Fig. 4.8. Rogier van der Weyden, Deposition, c. 1435, The Prado, Madrid (Photo: Erich Lessing/Art Resource, NY).

unusual placement of Sts. Peter and Paul above the angel and the Virgin. Peter is likely included here at least in part because he is the name saint of the donor; Paul, of course, is the standard iconographic companion to Peter. Within the meaning structure of this triptych, as Marius Rimmele has noted, the figures of Peter and Paul represent the entrance to salvation.62 Peter traditionally is believed to stand at the gate of heaven, but the depiction of Peter and Paul on the exterior of this triptych situates them on panels that will indeed open up to salvation, because, when the triptych opens, it displays Christ’s sacrifice on the cross, the means by which salvation from original sin was achieved. Peter holds the key to this entrance to salvation, while Paul holds the sword, symbol of his martyrdom.63 But just as Peter and Paul signal the presence of this entrance into salvation, that is, into the world behind the closed triptych, they also represent something else: the world after the see Corley, Painting and Patronage, p. 294, note 59. 62 Rimmele, Transparenzen, p. 31. 63 Rimmele, Transparenzen, pp. 31–32, reads the sword as suggesting the potential of punishment and reads the contrast between the open book of Peter and the mostly closed book of Paul as thematizing the question of access to salvation.

229

230 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

withdrawal of Christ, that time when the church takes over Christ’s mission after his death and Ascension—a time when Christ could be understood metaphorically as working below the surface, as happens literally when the triptych is closed.64 In this way, the roles of Peter and Paul within Christian history are communicated through the relationship between the exterior and interior of the triptych—an issue also treated in Chapter Two, and yet another example of Medialität, that is, of consequences for meaning arising out of artists’ uses of their ‘medium’ or format. Looking at the exterior of the triptych, however, Rinck might have thought not just of the overarching pattern of Christian history, but also, more specifically, of his own personal history. On the triptych exterior, St. Peter, his name saint, appears on the dexter side, when viewed from the position of Christ on the interior of the triptych. This would be on the heavenly, the saved side of Christ when he comes back for the Last Judgement at the end of time, that is, the place that this Peter, Peter Rinck, would want to be when he was judged. While recognition of the need to prepare for death and to be concerned about one’s fate at the time of Judgement was an integral part of lay and religious life in the period, Rinck’s frail health may have made him especially preoccupied with death. Indeed, this personal concern could account for the altarpiece’s unusual inclusion in its central panel of a full skeleton, which Corley suggested could have formed a personal vanitas for the donor.65 If so, the donor no doubt would have found comfort in viewing images of his name saint, holding the keys to heaven over an open book—which in the context of the Last Judgement suggests salvation—on a panel that opened to depict the crucified Christ with its promise of salvation. When performing regular devotions before this image in his private chapel, the donor could experience solace from the promise of salvation offered to him specifically (via the mediation of his name saint) through the reverberations between the two views of his triptych. The donor’s concerns about salvation after death tie into the triptych’s overall thematic focus on the relation between the terrestrial and the celestial spheres. A primary way in which this issue is negotiated in the Holy Cross Triptych is through the work’s organization of space. The spatial structure of the central panel sets up several ambiguities. This panel (and only this panel) is depicted in imitation of sculpted retables in which sculpted figures are contained within gilded shrines, essentially, wooden boxes that have actual, if shallow three-dimensional depth. At the top of the simulated shrine portrayed here, the Bartholomew Master paints 64 Rimmele, Transparenzen, p. 31. Rimmele, Triptychon als Metapher, pp. 273-274, discusses how this triptych functions as a unified spatial zone, with a connected figural grouping, when the altarpiece is closed, and how the viewer could imagine this fictive place when viewing it in a closed state. This concept might temper, but does not eliminate, the spatial ambiguities of the opened view discussed below. 65 Corley, Painting and Patronage, pp. 242–244, discusses the idea of the skeleton as a personal vanitas, and p. 294, note 63, notes that the underdrawings indicate that the skeleton was previously in the foreground and then moved to the background.

Spiritual Boundaries 

the sort of decorative foliage and trumpet-like forms typically found at the tops of these sculpted shrines. The placard on the top of the cross and the crossbar of the cross appear behind this fretwork, hence within the depth of the shrine. Christ’s hands curl forward up to the level of the fretwork, but still not in front of the depth of the shrine.66 Thus at the top of the panel, the cross seems to be contained by the shrine. However, at the bottom of the same panel, the figure of the Magdalene, who crouches behind the cross with her arms around it, is lined up with four figures beside the cross who, surprisingly enough, appear to stand not within the shrine, but in front it. At the outer left edge, St. Jerome overlaps the front side of the gilded shrine with his companion, the lion, even farther in front of him and thus even farther in front of the shrine. On the right edge, St. Thomas and his architectural square also completely overlap the other side of the shrine, making it clear that they too are well in front of the interior space of that shrine. While the Virgin Mary and St. John the Evangelist are in the centre of the scene and hence not shown as physically overlapping the outer frames of the shrine, their bodies overlap those of Sts. Jerome and Thomas. By the spatial logic of the shrine’s structure, then, Mary and John must be even farther in front of the shrine’s box interior than Jerome and Thomas. As a group, the figures of Jerome, Mary, John, and Thomas all seem to be pushed forward, so that rather than being contained within the shrine, they are immediately present to the viewer, almost as if they were coming into the very space of the viewer. In addition, the heavily modelled, sculptural quality of these figures, along with the rocky background that presses up against them without any attempt at spatial recession, increases the sense that the figures cannot be contained within the shrine (or even within the confines of the painting itself). The Bartholomew Master’s concerns with the space in front of the painting were ones that also formed a central issue on the interior of the Fathers of the Church Altarpiece c. 1482 (Fig. 4.9) by Michael Pacher, a woodcarver and painter from the Tyrol.67 But here Pacher, when executing this fully pictorial altarpiece, created more plasticity in his figures and exploited perspective to push elements in the scenes out of the picture far more aggressively than the Bartholomew Master. For example, the simulated stone baldachins above the four church fathers appear to project directly outwards, quite a distance in front of the painting. Moreover, the strongly foreshortened lion in front of St. Jerome and the cradle in front of St. Ambrose, as well as the figure of Emperor Trajan in front of St. Gregory, all give the distinct impression that they truly exist in a space beyond the picture plane, in the real space where the viewer stands. 66 Corley, Painting and Patronage, p. 242, emphasizes Christ’s position within the shrine. 67 See Rasmo, Michael Pacher, who considers this altarpiece, pp. 101–110, and Söding, ‘Maler und Bildschnitzer’, pp. 20–21.

231

232 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 4.9. Michael Pacher, Fathers of the Church Altarpiece, c. 1482, Alte Pinakothek, Munich (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Alte Pinakothek, Munich/Sybille Forster/Art Resource, NY).

By contrast, the Bartholomew Master’s Holy Cross Triptych creates ambiguity about exactly where the figures are situated, rather than fully allowing some forms to burst out of the space like Pacher does. In the Holy Cross Triptych’s Crucifixion scene, the knee of the Magdalene comes up against part of the robe of John, indicating that she cannot be too far behind him, even though she is behind the cross. This arrangement sets up the contradiction that the cross, which appears to be located within the shrine at the top of the scene, appears to be projected well in front of the shrine at the bottom. The cramped position of the Magdalene at the base of the cross reinforces the sense that the lower half of the painting does not have enough space to contain the cross and the body of Christ. In addition, the heavy modelling of the Magdalene’s face and drapery creates a plasticity that presses the cross from behind, allowing the cross seemingly to migrate in space and magically transform in its state of being. For through the power of these spatial ambiguities, the Bartholomew Master creates a cross that alternates between a pictorial representation of a sculpture placed within the shrine and a living crucifix placed on the altar table. Similar ambiguities of space apply to the figures at the side of the cross. Although the main standing figures at some points in the panel seem to be bursting out of the shrine, they are clearly set back into space. The Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece has included a section of barren earth in the foreground in front of the figures, with several items lying on the ground. In front of the cross is the Magdalene’s ointment jar, a skull, and a lower jawbone; another bone lies in the

Spiritual Boundaries 

right foreground. But most notable are two repoussé triangles at each corner which contain plants and a scapula bone at the left.68 These mark off the immediate foreground and push everything else behind them in space. When viewed from below—and on one theory the viewer’s eye would be at the level of the nail in Christ’s foot, hence the triptych would be viewed from a lower vantage point69 —then the figures, which at some vantage points appear to project into the space of the viewer, get pushed back from the viewer, and seem to be located in a cramped space just in the front of the shrine with a kind of no man’s land of space between them and the viewer. The holy figures thus vacillate between immediate presence and distance from the viewer. They are not really in the gilded shrine nor in the space in front of it; they become an apparition at the edge of the shrine. In a certain sense, then, the figures around the cross in the Holy Cross Triptych’s central panel are like the figure of Christ in the Bartholomew Master’s Mass of St. Gregory (Fig. 4.1), who, as discussed above, appears at the edge of the sarcophagus on the altar, that is, at the edge of the real world, with the space of eternity in a golden aureole behind him. In the Holy Cross Triptych, the figures stand similarly at a narrow border between material and transcendent space, between the real world in front of the shrine and the transcendent space within it. The ambiguities of space are more pronounced in the Holy Cross Triptych than in the other works by the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece that incorporate the format of a gilded shrine, his two Depositions (Figs. 4.2, 4.10). These works, not surprisingly, even more closely reflect the influence of Rogier van der Weyden’s Deposition (Fig. 4.8), the famous prototype, which, to a certain degree, forms a pictorial imitation of polychromed sculptures placed within a sculpted shrine.70 The Bartholomew Master’s Deposition in Paris (Fig. 4.10), follows the basic Rogerian approach, but whereas Rogier’s figures essentially were contained within a fairly shallow shrine, the Bartholomew Master’s shrine in the Paris Deposition has far too little depth to contain the figures. Compared to the Holy Cross Triptych (Fig. 4.6), the Paris Deposition has very little extra room in the foreground, so the figures push out of the shrine seemingly into the real world.71 In the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece’s other Deposition scene, the London Deposition (Fig. 4.2), 68 I am indebted to Roland Krischel for this identification of the scapula bone here. 69 MacGregor, Victim of Anonymity, p. 37. 70 Krieger, ‘Skulptur als Thema’, p. 231, however, correctly noted that Rogier’s figures are figures of flesh and blood, not polychromed sculptures, and hence it is only the environment that comes from another genre, not the f igures; so Rogier here is only trying to evoke the sense of a sculpted shrine, not really trying to simulate polychromed sculpted figures. 71 MacGregor, Victim of Anonymity, p. 37, similarly compares how Rogier plays with the tension of figures in a box, whereas the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece pushes the figures forward out of the box, which MacGregor sees here as showing how Christ’s suffering here is unconfined.

233

234 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 4.10. Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece, Deposition, c. 1490, Louvre, Paris, France (Photo: © Photo Josse/Bridgeman Images).

the shrine seems to be little more than a screen backdrop with no significant depth, unlike the Holy Cross Triptych’s shrine, which actually could contain figures if the Master had chosen to locate the figures there. But the London Deposition has a very well-articulated space in front of the shrine, which establishes clear layers of depth extending forward from the backdrop screen of the shrine and backward from the repoussoir rock in the foreground (which holds the Magdalene’s ointment jar). There is plenty of space in the foreground, and the figures are placed throughout different levels within this ample foreground space. By contrast, in the Holy Cross

Spiritual Boundaries 

Triptych, the figures are all lined up almost exactly in the same plane at the front edge of the shrine. The empty foreground, rather than being a space they inhabit, instead becomes an area that blocks them from coming farther out from the shrine, that is, farther out of the painting and seemingly into real space. In the Holy Cross Triptych, the space in the wings is constructed somewhat differently than that in the central panel. The wings have fretwork at the top, but no gilded shrine background setting. Hence the figures in the wings no longer appear to be situated in the context of a shrine, and no longer appear as apparitions at the edge of a shrine. Instead, these figures are located within outdoor spaces, but within ones that the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece has structured around a series of zones divided up along clearly marked boundaries. The most obvious and clear boundary is the cloth of honour behind the saints, which separates the saints in the foreground from the distant landscape behind. The landscape on the left wing includes a river that has been associated with the Jordan river and seen as an attribute of John the Baptist.72 However, the background also includes a Gothic church, and beside it, a Romanesque church, with a circular structure that evokes the form of the Holy Sepulchre. The Holy Sepulchre, of course, is appropriate to the central subject matter of of Christ’s death, and the whole background could allude not just to the earthly Jerusalem, but also to the heavenly one.73 The landscape on the right wing includes a building often associated with the Carthusian cloister in Cologne;74 other church-like towers appear in blue in the far background, evoking a celestial setting. Hence the cloth of honour seems to mark a division between the heavenly and earthly realms. But once again, the exact location of this boundary ends up being somewhat ambiguously situated. Looking down from the top, the cloth of honour appears aligned with the tracery at the top and hence located at the picture plane. Indeed, the articulation of the ground plane, with the undifferentiated characterization of its greenery, gives little suggestion of recession to convey (via the ground plane 72 Budde and Krischel, Genie ohne Namen, p. 376. 73 Schmid, Stifter und Auftraggeber, p. 116, denies any relation to specific Cologne churches and sees these churches in relation to the Heavenly Jerusalem; however, he connects them with the temple of Solomon, and not the Holy Sepulchre. The connection between the round form and the Holy Sepulchre is discussed, famously by Krautheimer, ‘Introduction to an “Iconography”’. 74 Budde and Krischel, Genie ohne Namen, p. 376, note the presence of the Charterhouse cloister in the right wing; however, Zehnder, Altkölner Malerei, p. 436, argues that the architecture depicted here is not really that of the specific Carthusian cloister in Cologne, but a paraphrasing of it. Schmid, Stifter und Auftraggeber, pp. 115–116, discusses the possibility that this wing and the left wing of the St. Thomas Triptych show different views of the cloister; while cautioning against over-interpretation, he thinks that the identification of the architecture as the Carthusian cloister in Cologne is plausible in light of the Master’s depiction of the tower of Utrecht Cathedral in another work—as long as one does not require an extremely accurate standard of copying of the building.

235

236 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

itself) that the cloth of honour is situated farther back in space. The main way that space is established in front of the cloth is through the volumetric depiction of each saint and the overlap of the outermost saint in front of his or her companion. The artist thus created a highly spatial landscape in the background but largely did not try to achieve spatial effects by means of the landscape or perspective effects in the foreground, but instead via the plasticity of the figures. By fashioning these figures with such intense plasticity and by placing them (especially the outermost ones) so close to the picture plane, the Bartholomew Master succeeds at projecting them powerfully forward and allowing some of them to seem to intrude into the realm of the viewer. Thus, as opposed to the figures in the central panel, which are removed from the viewer by the no man’s land in the foreground, the figures in the wings are present to the viewer. At the left, Cecilia’s harp projects forward in very strong foreshortening, truly seeming to project out of the space of the painting. St. John the Baptist stands even closer to the viewer with his right foot extending over the sill that comes to the front edge of the painting, with the big toe hanging into the open air as if free from the bounds of the picture plane. But where exactly is the picture plane? The Bartholomew Master raises this question by performing a stunning transformation between the two wings. At the very bottom of the left wing, he paints a flat strip composed of a tan lower section with a silver strip at the top that parallels the frame and hence appears to be on the picture plane. But on the right panel, this same feature suddenly turns into a receding plane, which forms a tan ground plane upon which stands St. Agnes’s darling little lamb (a cute accompaniment to John the Baptist’s lamb, which he holds in the left wing); the silver strip no longer abuts the picture plane but stands behind it as part of a sill that no longer has a tan section as part of its structure (as it might have seemed from looking at the left wing). This transformation is magical, perplexing, and funny. It raises the question of just how close the saints actually come into the world of the viewer. They seem to be in the earthly realm, but at the last minute—that is, if we assume a Western sequential reading of the triptych from left to right and top to bottom—the artist informs us that the saints are withheld from our world, if only by just that little area of space where the lamb is located. The lamb also lets the viewer know that the saints are just a bit elevated from the real world on a step above. And that distance separating St. Agnes’s elegant slipper from the edge of the step is another crucial message that the saints, despite what one might think looking at the left wing, are not in fact crossing over the threshold into the realm of the viewer. What is happening in the left wing is a sort of deception, clarified by the lamb in the right wing. The saints are not really in the earthly realm despite first impressions that they are. Their feet almost, but not quite, extend into the earthly realm, while their heads appear against the landscape background that rises behind the cloths of honour, which

Spiritual Boundaries 

mark the division between the earthly and celestial realms. As a result, the saints are situated in a liminal zone between earth and heaven, a placement appropriate to their roles as intermediaries on behalf of devotees. On the exterior of the Holy Cross Triptych (Fig. 4.7), the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece adds another dimension to the play between spatial boundaries, working not just the boundaries moving forward and backward in space, but also the boundaries moving up and down on the surface of the panel. On this exterior, which, as noted above, depicts grisaille images of the Annunciation and Sts. Peter and Paul, the Bartholomew Master creates a push and pull between forward projection and recession backward centred especially at the strip at the edge of the niche in which the simulated stone sculptures are placed. At each of these four strips, the artist carefully places items that align with this strip, come in front of it, behind it, or even pierce through it. For example, at the left, the robe and wing of the angel Gabriel go behind the edge, but above that, the tendril of a branch comes out from behind the strip to pierce a hole in it and curl out in front of this same strip. St. Peter, who perches on the branch, thus seems to be at least partially located in front of the niche’s side strip: his knees and foot, which project forward on the branch (toward the side of the branch that ties down to the front right edge of the niche), appear to be located in the space in front of the niche. Although the corner of his book is visible under the edge of the niche, part of Peter’s book clearly must protrude past the front edge of the niche, given the position of the branch and Peter’s placement upon it.75 Gabriel’s staff with the banderol, however, clearly abuts rather than overlaps the side of the niche; the position of the branch in relation to Gabriel’s banderol makes it appear that Gabriel is farther back in space than Peter. On the other hand, observation of the two figures independent of their relations to the side wall gives the impression that they are virtually in the same location in space. The right wing has a similar arrangement. But here, the tendril of the branch on which Paul is placed does not pierce through the outer edge of the niche through a hole, but instead occludes it in a way that seems almost physically impossible. It appears that the branch has broken the architecture and somehow pushed it back in space. Another oddity of the situation is that Paul’s left foot—placed on top of the branch tied to the outside of the niche’s edge and hence partly outside the space of the niche—does not appear any farther forward, and indeed could be seen as positioned farther back than his hand, which is behind the tendril that clearly curls behind the edge of the other side of the niche. So once again, the spatial relations are ambiguous, shifting, and illogical. Like the branch—which curves from the front of 75 Roland Krischel has indicated to me that there appear to have been changes at the edges of the niche and that perhaps the edges of the niche were originally planned to be smaller than they currently are; currently some pentimenti are visible where Peter’s book abuts the edge of the niche.

237

238 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

the niche to a place behind the edge and then pierces back through to the front—the positioning of the upper figures in the outer panel seems to undergo fluctuations in spatial status. The fluctuating positions of the upper figures draw the figures in the Annunciation below them into similar shifting positions in relation to the saints and to the viewer. All the figures thus end up both coming into and staying out of the viewer’s space. This visual contradiction belies the stability one would expect from a representation that seemingly is making claims to be a sculpture. In this way, the exterior of the Holy Cross Triptych lays bare its own fictions and in so doing, reveals its conscious reflection on Medialität. Another way in which the seeming nature of these images as sculptures is unmasked is through the lack of definition of a ground plane or ceiling for the niches in which these grisailles are placed. This lacuna, noted by Michaela Krieger, is something not typically found in Netherlandish fifteenth-century grisailles, the main influence for the Bartholomew Master’s imagery here.76 The grisailles in Jan van Eyck’s Ghent Altarpiece (Fig. 2.36) and Rogier van der Weyden’ Beaune Altarpiece both have clearly articulated ground planes and ceilings; even more notably, the grisailles on the exteriors of the Master of the Munich Arrest’s Arrest of Christ and Resurrection, which originally were imported into Cologne and are considered the most likely direct source for the Bartholomew Master’s grisailles, also clearly articulate, on each panel, the ground plane and the edge of the niche in which the figure is placed.77 Krieger noted that the lack of ground plane or upper boundary to the niches on the exterior of the Holy Cross Triptych makes the side edges seem to float in the air.78 But in addition, the entire grisaille sculpture configurations on both wings seem to float due to a lack of support under their round pedestals. There is a tiny extension at the base of the left side wall on each wing that could provide some support, but not nearly enough for the weight of the presumed sculptural ensemble. This gives a sense of instability to the entire image that goes against the whole notion of stone sculptures within a stone niche. The exterior of this triptych thus plays with the notion of the medium, and in so doing, conjures up the presence of a miraculous vision. The Annunciation scene with the two saints on branches above it ultimately is not meant to be read simply 76 Krieger, ‘Skulptur als Thema’, p. 229. 77 These grisailles are illustrated and discussed in Périer-D’Ieteren, Dieric Bouts, p. 359. Krieger, ‘Skulptur als Thema’, p. 226, emphasized how these grisailles by the Master of the Munich Arrest (one of which is now in Munich, the other, separated from the Arrest of Christ, is in Cleveland) form sources for some of the spatial elements of the Bartholomew Master’s grisailles and argued that the Bartholomew Master could have seen them. Kemperdick and Weniger, ‘Bartholomäusmeister— Herkunft’, p. 42, note 56, cite the Master of the Munich Arrest’s panels as the oldest known Netherlandish grisailles of Cologne provenance. 78 Krieger, ‘Skulptur als Thema’, p. 229.

Spiritual Boundaries 

as a trompe l’oeil image of a sculpture situated in the real space of the church, like the grisailles painted on the exteriors of Jan van Eyck’s and Rogier van der Weyden’s triptychs (e.g., Fig. 2.37). At one moment, the scene seems to consist of plastic images located in real space. But once the viewer tries to grasp the scene’s logic, its reality disintegrates, and viewers come to the realization that what they are seeing is not real. Hence the images on the exterior of the Holy Cross Triptych flicker between the status of real sculpture and a transcendent vision. On the exterior, then, as on the interior, the boundaries between the earthly and the heavenly, the real and the eternal, are deliberately blurred.

The St. Thomas Triptych The Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece painted another triptych, the St. Thomas Triptych (Figs. 4.11, 4.12), which, though the dating of the Bartholomew Master’s works is uncertain, may date shortly after the Holy Cross Triptych, around 1495–1500.79 Like the Holy Cross Triptych, this triptych also was among the works bequeathed from Peter Rinck’s private chapel to the Carthusian chapterhouse of St. Barbara in Cologne. In this case, it is particularly clear that although the work was not given to the Charterhouse until after Rinck’s death in 1501, it was produced with the intention that it ultimately would be placed on one of the altars attached to the choir screen that Rinck had endowed in 1481, this time the altar dedicated to St. Thomas. Not only does the triptych depict Thomas in its central panel, but the rest of the triptych also depicts other dedicatory saints of this altar, including (in the centre) saints Helena, Jerome, Ambrose, and the Magdalene; (in the left wing) the Virgin and John the Evangelist, with a scene of St. Giles in the background; (in the right wing) St. Hippolytus and Afra, with a scene of Mary of Egypt in the background, and (on the exterior) St. Symphorosa and Felicitas, each accompanied by their seven children.80 The St. Thomas Triptych, unlike the Holy Cross Triptych, includes the coat of arms of Peter Rinck at the bottom of the central panel, perhaps another sign that the donor meant to bestow it on the Charterhouse and wanted to be sure his patronage was noted.

79 For a summary of the different datings of this triptych, see Melster and Klein, ‘Kunsthistorische Datierungsvorschläge’, pp. 188–189; dendrochronology was not possible for this triptych. Zehnder, Altkölner Malerei, pp. 429–430, also discusses different datings for this work and places the work around 1498–1499; Budde and Krischel, Genie ohne Namen, p. 416, date the work c. 1495–1500. The specifics about questions of dating the works of this master, however, lie outside the scope of this book. 80 Corley, Painting and Patronage, pp. 237–238. Several dedicatory saints are left out, including Cecilia and Germanus.

239

240 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 4.11. Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece, St. Thomas Triptych, c. 1495–1500, Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_c001508).

The central panel (Fig. 4.11) depicts the key moment in the life of St. Thomas, when, doubting the identity of the resurrected Christ, he inserts his hand into Christ’s side to verify that Christ really has the side wound of his Crucifixion. This panel thus focuses on the encounter of the earthly with the godly, that is, on Thomas confronting the resurrected Christ and demanding physical confirmation that the person he previously knew in his human form, and whom he knew died on the cross, could actually be the same divine person appearing before him.81 Hence the spatial structures of the central panel are bound up with charting, and ultimately blurring the boundaries between the real and the eternal. The whole scene is set within a tracery-covered arch. While the central panel’s background, unlike that of the Holy Cross Triptych, is not articulated in the form of a gilded shrine, the upper arch and tracery at the top of the central panel, along with the more amorphous golden background, are sufficient to provide some reference to sculpted shrines.82 The strong 81 MacGregor, Victim of Anonymity, p. 36, similarly casts this as a collision between the human and the divine, but his sense that this is a distressing event as evident by the reaction of the angels seems somewhat overstated to me. 82 Budde and Krischel, Genie ohne Namen, p. 416.

Spiritual Boundaries 

Fig. 4.12. Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece, Sts. Symphorosa and Felicitas, exterior of the St. Thomas Triptych, c. 1495–1500, Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne (Photo: © Rheinisches Bildarchiv Cologne, rba_c003655).

241

242 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

modelling of the figures also allows the figures to retain a definite connection to carved, polychromed examples.83 Hence, these figures have a forceful reality effect and a sense of plastic projection into the realm of the viewer. However, this reality effect is undermined by the ambiguities in the figures’ spatial positioning. On the one hand, the saints circling around Christ and Thomas seem to be aligned with the tracery at the top and hence pile up vertically on the picture plane; Jerome and Ambrose’s staffs even touch against that tracery. In addition, Ambrose’s larger scale in comparison to the Magdalene below him contradicts the possibility of placement farther back in space suggested by her body’s overlap of his, thereby keeping him at the surface of the picture plane. Nevertheless, the diminution in the scale of St. Jerome on the left and God the Father at the top suggests recession in space.84 This creates the possibility for the viewer to experience an oscillating effect that toggles between seeing the saintly figures resting on the surface or receding back into space. In this way, the figures shift between being present and distant, in the here and now, and in the transcendent space of eternal time At the bottom of the scene, the main event is enacted on a grey platform, which bulges forward in the centre where Christ stands. The platform curves back at the sides, allowing for an area of grassy space in which angels kneel. They carry musical instruments rendered with foreshortening, which appear to project toward the viewer. The activities on the podium and the grassy space in front of it all seem to be in the realm of the real world, that is, the realm inhabited by the viewer of the triptych.85 Indeed, as noted in the Genie ohne Namen catalogue, the cutting off of the wings of the angel on the left seems to presume that the viewer is approaching the painting from the left, the direction in which Westerners read a text.86 This places the viewer in the position of Thomas, seen from behind, who moves his hand to enter the side wound of Christ, placed at the exact centre of the panel. This wound becomes the radius of a circle that arcs around the saints to reach God the Father at the top and then circles around to the right and back down past those saints to reach the feet of Christ at the bottom. Spatially, this circle could be read as a plane close to the surface of the panel, on which appears seemingly 83 Budde and Krischel, Genie ohne Namen, p. 416, similarly notes that while the centre is not explicitly formed as a shrine, it still helps confer on the figures a sculptural presence. Prinz, Gemalte Skulpturenretabel, p. 188 and p. 192, emphasizes the plastic modelling of the figures leading to a sculptural effect in the St. Bartholomew Triptych, but there is a similar aspect in the St. Thomas Triptych as well. 84 The Washington Baptism has a similar spatial structure in its circle of saints. But in this painting, the illusion of recession is less effective because the figures in the Washington panel are less volumetric and because the central scene reads flatter than the central scene of the St. Thomas Triptych. 85 The grassy foreground could be seen as referencing the heavenly realm, as it does in some examples, such as Jan van Eyck’s Ghent Altarpiece; but in this work, the grass seems to be referencing the terrestrial realm. 86 Budde and Krischel, Genie ohne Namen, p. 416.

Spiritual Boundaries 

three-dimensional figures, almost like carved, polychromed figures in a shrine. This circle could be seen in opposition to the circle of the grey pedestal that curves forward toward the viewer and could be imagined to recede backward into space. But the fact that the pedestal dissolves into a haze just behind the main figures is a sign that the normative conception of space does not hold here any more than it did in the Holy Cross Triptych. In the lower section of the central panel, the pedestal that appears so solid and material as it projects forward actually vanishes as it recedes into the background, rather than receding according to any mathematical or rational system of perspective.87 At the left side, next to Thomas, it ends in a scalloped edge topped by a misty swath of blue with a touch of white, suggestive both of the heavens and the clouds upon which St. Helena appears just beside and above Thomas. On the right, the pedestal’s back side is obscured both by the pale blue haze under the Magdalene and the yellow glow around Christ. Hence, at some point in the background, the pedestal’s material form disappears into the misty blue and yellow background colours, signalling a shift from the material into the immaterial along with a transition from this world into the next and from the temporal into the eternal. The figures in the panel appear to be circling on the surface of the painting in front of this heavenly backdrop. The figures project forward but do not actually recede, while the backdrop has no spatial definition and hence suggests infinity. This background has two tiers of definition, an inner ring of glowing yellow, white, and blue, suggesting sky and clouds, and an outer ring of gold leaf, which indicates an even higher degree of sanctity, holiness, and spirituality. The use of gold leaf here, as discussed in Chapter Three, was a hallmark of Cologne fifteenth-century painting, which was, however, falling out of use by the time of this triptych around 1500. The Bartholomew Master’s use of it here—and in a number of his other paintings, including the Holy Cross Triptych and the Washington Baptism—creates sanctity through both formal and iconographic means: gold leaf flattens the surface of the painting, thereby breaking its spatial logic, while at the same time its materiality and glittering surface references Revelation’s description of the Heavenly Jerusalem as a city of gold and gems. The boundary line between the real world of the plastic figures in real space and the hazy infinite background seems hard to pin down. After all, the pedestal dissolves in an uneven fashion in the background, so there is no clear demarcation line where the fog of heavenly space separates off from the space of the real world. But in fact, the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece clearly demarcates the boundary between these two worlds: it is right at the centre of the circle in the wound 87 Gaus, ‘“Herr, sie werden im Licht”’, p. 45, notes that the composition blocks the vanishing point; this is another way in which the artist muddies the logic of the spatial construction of the panel.

243

244 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

of Christ where Thomas is inserting his fingers.88 That wound, that hole in Christ’s body, is the point of entry that will allow for the transcendence from the real to the immaterial world. That moment of contact between the human (Thomas) and the divine (Christ) moves in both directions because not only does Thomas reach his hand into Christ’s wound, but also Christ reaches his hand to grasp Thomas’s wrist.89 This contact sets off the swirl of divine energy around Christ that opens the pathway to eternity that ultimately resides in the upper realms of the panel in the gilded realm of God the Father and the angels. The wounds of Christ became an important form of devotion in this period for the Carthusians of Cologne as well as at the University of Cologne.90 Within the story of Thomas’s life and encounter with the resurrected Christ, the wound is a passageway out of doubt and the opening to holiness.91 The central panel of this triptych clearly distinguishes the spaces of the two opposing realms of the material and the immaterial. By placing Thomas’s hand penetrating Christ’s wound at the very centre of this panel, the image demonstrates how once one overcomes doubt to attain faith in Christ, specifically, through devotion to the wounds of Christ, one can make the passage from the physical into the spiritual realm. The wings of the St. Thomas Triptych are structured like those of the Holy Cross Triptych (Fig. 4.6) in that they each show two saints placed before a cloth of honour with a distant landscape behind. Unlike those in the Holy Cross Triptych, the designs on the cloths of honour in the St. Thomas Triptych’s wings have distinctly different brocade patterns; this contrast may have been deliberately intended to distinguish the left panel (from the viewer’s point of view), typically the more elevated side, since it is the dexter side of Christ, that is, the hierarchically favoured side. This left wing presents imagery of the Virgin and Child, and John the Baptist, figures with a more sacred status than Sts. Hippolytus and Afra on the opposite right wing.92 The background landscapes on the two wings, in another feature that differs from the Holy Cross Triptych, depict narrative incidents from the lives of two hermits, Giles and Mary of Egypt. In the background of the left wing, a small 88 Gaus, ‘“Herr, sie werden im Licht”’, p. 47, emphasizes the central placement of the hand of Thomas. 89 Gaus, ‘“Herr, sie werden im Licht”’, p. 47, similarly sees the side wound as the door to the Resurrection according to Ambrose and in association with mystical notions of the wound as an opening to holiness. Powell, Depositions, p. 182, also sees the wound as a gap, which opens a passage that allows one to move beyond the body toward an invisible God. 90 Corley, Painting and Patronage, p. 241. 91 Gaus, “‘Herr, sie werden im Licht”’, p. 47, discusses the concept of the side wound as a door, and the theological and mystical notion of the side wound as an opening to holiness. 92 Obviously, the Virgin and Child are more sacred than the saints, but John the Baptist, as the precursor of Christ and the one who baptized him, as well as the saint who forms the third figure of the Deësis in the Last Judgement grouping, has a greater importance than Afra and Hippolytus within the hierarchy of saints.

Spiritual Boundaries 

figure of Giles appears in the far landscape, seemingly outside a cave, with the doe, which according to legend nourished him with its milk during his time living in the wilderness.93 The background of the right wing depicts Mary of Egypt shown naked in the ‘desert’, holding the three loaves of bread, her attribute. According to legend, she bought them with the three coins she received after repenting of her sins and thereby being allowed to worship at the Holy Cross in Jerusalem.94 The ships in the harbour before which she kneels reference the ship she took from Egypt to go to Jerusalem.95 These narrative features in the background of the wings create a different dynamic across the boundaries compared to that in the Holy Cross Triptych: whereas in the latter triptych, the cloth of honour marks the boundary between heaven and earth, in the St. Thomas Triptych, the cloth hangs at the boundary between the iconic and the narrative. The foreground of the wings of the St. Thomas Triptych also marks out various boundary lines. In this case, the boundaries are quite clear and largely without the ambiguities seen in the Holy Cross Triptych. In the wings, the holy figures stand on tiled floors, which end in a grey sill, below which is brown earth with some plants growing on it. In the right wing, various references to the lives, particularly the martyrdoms, of the two saints lie on the sill and spill onto the ground.96 The sill helps establish the elevated position of the saints; it exists as a receding sill throughout both wings, without shifting from flatness to recession as happens between the left and right wings of the Holy Cross Triptych. In the St. Thomas Triptych, then, the recession of space in the wings—unlike that in the triptych’s centre, and unlike that in the Holy Cross Triptych—functions in a fully rational way. As a result, the irrationality of the background space of the central panel becomes even more apparent by contrast. The exterior of the St. Thomas Triptych (Fig. 4.12) has a more straightforward construction of space than the Holy Cross Triptych exterior (Fig. 4.7) but does have some irrational elements. The grisaille figures are placed within a contained niche, which has a domed ceiling and a back wall that curves around to surround the pseudo-sculpted figures and meets the picture plane just beyond the edge of the panel, so that the outer edges of the niche walls cannot be seen. The floor of each niche is also not indicated, since the pedestal rests on another base, which is cut off at the bottom of the panel. So while this grisaille exterior does have the appearance of a 93 Voragine, Golden Legend, vol. 2, pp. 147–148, details this story. 94 Voragine, Golden Legend, vol. 1, pp. 227–228. 95 Budde and Krischel, Genie ohne Namen, 416, suggest that these three ships reference the three ships that discovered America. 96 As discussed in Zehnder, Altkölner Malerei, p. 426, these items, for Hippolytus, include the rope and belt used to drag him to his death, as well as a tool used to lacerate him, and for Afra, a flax bundle under which she hid a bishop from the Roman authorities and a fire signifying her fiery death under Diocletian.

245

246 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

fairly conventional grisaille, more in the mode of the classic Netherlandish examples from the first half of the fifteenth century, the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece still plays with the formula here by not containing his figures fully at the sides of the niches. More importantly, the Master creates an almost subliminal suggestion that the figures are floating by not grounding them on the floor of the niche. He reinforces this hint of flotation by leaving a sliver of air between the front section of the pedestal and the supporting slab below it. The possibility that these figures are not subject to gravity creates (perhaps subconscious) uneasiness in viewers, raising questions about the illusion of the materiality of stone that the artist seems to be striving to achieve through his use of grisaille on this exterior. The curving pedestals on which the fictive sculptures are placed have analogies with the curving platform on which Christ stands in the central panel on the interior of this triptych. Hence the Bartholomew Master seems to be relying on a key element of the Medialität of the triptych, the concept of transparency between exterior and interior (as discussed in Chapter Two), which allows the same pedestal formation to permeate visually through both views of the triptych, so that the closed view brings to mind the image on the interior and vice versa. The pedestals on the exterior take on a brown tonality that distinguishes them from the greyer stone colouration throughout most of the outer panels. This coloristic element anticipates the flesh tones of Christ in the opened triptych. On the other hand, in the opened triptych, the resurrected Christ stands on a grey pedestal reminiscent of the overall tonalities of the grisaille exterior—and in this way, makes the notion of the resurrection of Christ analogous to that of a statue coming to life.

The St. Bartholomew Triptych and the London/Mainz Wings The work from which the Master takes his name is the St. Bartholomew Triptych (Fig. 4.13), thought to have been executed between 1500 and 1505.97 The work probably was originally commissioned for the Carthusian monastery at Cologne by the Carthusian monk depicted in the central panel. But at some point, relatively early on, for unknown reasons the patronage shifted to a private patron, the Cologne iron and textile merchant, Arnt von Westerburg, and the monk was painted over (and only uncovered c. 1950) and the Westerburg coats of arms added to upper corners of the central panel of the work.98 The St. Bartholomew Triptych takes a 97 On the dating of this work, see Melster and Klein, ‘Kunsthistorische Datierungsvorschläge’, pp. 190–191, which notes that dendrochronology was not possible for this triptych, and Budde and Krischel, Genie ohne Namen, p. 532. 98 On the work’s patronage, see Budde and Krischel, Genie ohne Namen, p. 532, and Schmid, Stifter und Auftraggeber, p. 127, who suggests that Peter Rinck might have played a role in the shift in the contract.

Spiritual Boundaries 

Fig. 4.13. Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece, St. Bartholomew Triptych, c. 1500–1505, Alte Pinakothek, Munich (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Alte Pinakothek, Munich/Art Resource, NY).

more unified approach than the Holy Cross (Fig. 4.6) and the St. Thomas Triptychs (Fig. 4.11) in that all three of its panels show standing saints in front of a cloth of honour—St. Bartholomew at the centre, flanked by Sts. Agnes and Cecilia in the central panel, with St. John the Evangelist and St. Margaret in the left wing, and St. James the Younger and St. Christina in the right wing; the other two triptychs relegated this imagery to the wings only. All three panels of the St. Bartholomew Triptych have the same tracery decoration running across the top, unlike the St. Thomas Triptych, which eliminated it on the wings, but like the Holy Cross Triptych, which includes it throughout. The exterior of the St. Bartholomew Triptych is limited to orange-red marbling, and, in this way, the triptych eschews the grisaille imagery of the Holy Cross (Fig. 4.7) and St. Thomas Triptychs (4.12). Indeed, these latter works are the only triptychs in the Bartholomew Master’s oeuvre that utilize the grisaille exterior, a practice that, as discussed in Chapter Two, was extremely uncommon in German triptychs and increasingly uncommon even in Netherlandish triptychs (at least in its pseudo-sculptural mode) by the beginning of the sixteenth century.99 The foreground structure of the entire St. Bartholomew Triptych is similar to that in the wings of the St. Thomas Triptych (Fig. 4.11): the saints stand on a tiled floor that ends in a sill, below which are earth and plants. In the St. Bartholomew Triptych, however, compared to the St. Thomas Triptych, the saints are situated much closer to the viewer. Their feet point forward almost as if in direct proximity to the viewer, and the consistent sense of immediate presence of each figure near the viewer, with many items shown in steep foreshortening, is unmatched in any of the preceding triptychs. The treatment of the background also differs from the other 99 Jacobs, Opening Doors, pp. 152–158, pp. 197–199, and pp. 224–227.

247

248 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

triptychs in that only a very tiny amount of landscape appears above the cloth of honour. The landscape shown includes only hazy blue images of the tops of towers and mountains, and a distant river and city, with the sole use of blue colouration communicating the effect of extreme aerial perspective, thereby indicating great distance. Here, then, the artist establishes a very stark contrast between the intense closeness of the bodies of the saints and the tremendous distance in the landscape behind, a contrast far more pronounced than that established in the other two triptychs. The St. Bartholomew Triptych thus eliminates all the ambiguities of spatial construction found in the other triptychs in favour of a distinct division of space in which the cloth of honour separates the earthly (appearing close to the viewer) from the celestial (appearing far away from them). But then again, this boundary is not quite so sharply drawn. The saints who stand in front of the cloth of honour are especially effectively articulated here as liminal figures who straddle the earthly and celestial realms. At the bottom of the scene, the shoes and feet of the saints (the latter, in the case of the bare-footed saints) project forward out toward the world of the viewer. But at the top, the heads of the saints touch against the projections of celestial blue landscape, thereby linking the saints in front of the curtain to the heavenly environment behind. In this way, the Bartholomew Master’s construction of the scene communicates how the saints perform their role of mediating between the terrestrial and the celestial: their human form and corporeality references their status as human beings, but the placement of their heads against the sky, with its references to the Heavenly Jerusalem, indicates their current status as residents in heaven. By expressing the liminal character of the saints, this work demonstrates what gives the saints their capacity to serve as more approachable objects of devotional prayer, who also can effectively intercede on behalf of their devotees. The boundary established by the cloth of honour here allows the St. Bartholomew Triptych to reference a sculpted shrine with polychromed sculptures of saints housed within it—like Erhart’s Blaubeuren Altarpiece (Fig. 4.5)—and to thereby encourage a devotional response similar to that evoked by cult images. And through the imagery it displays behind the cloth of honour, the triptych offers the devotees before it the promise of heaven and of salvation, that is, the promise that their prayers will be answered. In the St. Bartholomew Triptych-altarpiece, then, the Bartholomew Master extends and deepens his reflections upon media, with which he engaged in his Holy Cross the St. Thomas Triptychs. But this work makes it especially clear how the Bartholomew Master’s triptychs use self-awareness about media as part of a direct commentary on the relation between the material and the transcendental worlds. The London/Mainz wings (Figs. 4.14, 4.15), which are thought to date shortly after the St. Bartholomew Triptych, around 1505–1510, originally made up the left and right wing respectively of a triptych roughly the same size as the St. Bartholomew

Spiritual Boundaries 

Triptych (Fig. 4.13).100 The central panel of this triptych is lost, and the work, like the St. Bartholomew Triptych, was delivered with no imagery on its exterior, although a somewhat strange version of the Epiphany was later added to the exterior by a painter from the workshop of the Master of the Holy Kinship the Younger.101 But since the wings closely resemble those of the St. Bartholomew Triptych—both the London and Mainz wings depict two saints each (Sts. Peter and Dorothy in London, Fig. 4.14, Sts. Andrew and Columba in Mainz, Fig. 4.15), arranged in compositions extremely close to those found in the wings of the St. Bartholomew Triptych—it seems reasonable to suppose that the centre would have had standing saints like the St. Bartholomew Triptych. Regardless of the content of the central panel, the interior wings are extremely close to the St. Bartholomew Triptych. The saints, as always arranged in male/female pairings, stand on grey tiled sills above an earthen grassy foreground. They are rendered as heavily modelled, highly plastic figures placed once again before a beautiful, brocaded cloth of honour; their feet, the Bartholomew Master’s typical oddly shaped bare feet for the men and more daintily shod feet for the women, mostly protrude over the sill toward the viewer. A celestial blue distant landscape peeks up above the top edge of the curtain. The only significant difference here between these wings and the St. Bartholomew Triptych is the presence of crystalline columns behind the curtain, suggestive of a loggia, which opens out into a wide space and seems to form an additional architectural division between the terrestrial and the celestial worlds. Not surprisingly, given the Bartholomew Master’s continual play with boundaries, these columns are boundary markers that blur boundaries. Their transparent crystalline shafts flecked with red are topped by capitals and impost blocks made of grey stone. The crystalline shaft alludes to the heavenly city made of crystal. Its red flecks evoke the mineral jasper, which is mentioned in connection with crystal as part of the description of the Heavenly Jerusalem in Revelation 21:11.102 The grey stone of the capitals and impost block, on the other hand, like the stone of the sill below the feet of the figures, remains grounded in the earthly and the mundane. Hence the columns contain elements of the two realms they divide, the earthly and the celestial. The columns thus stand as a leitmotif for the consistent role of boundary markers within the oeuvre of the Master of the St. Bartholomew Master, and for the steadfast way in which this artist blurs the very boundaries he establishes. 100 On the dating of these works, see Melster and Klein, ‘Kunsthistorische Datierungsvorschläge’, pp. 190–191, who date the wood of the London panel probably after 1494, but give no dendrochronological information on the Mainz panel, and also Budde and Krischel, Genie ohne Namen, p. 546 and p. 548. Budde and Krischel, p. 546, provide strong arguments against previous claims that the London and Mainz panels originally formed the exterior panels of the St. Bartholomew Triptych. 101 Budde and Krischel, Genie ohne Namen, p. 546. 102 Thanks to Larry Silver for pointing out the association with jasper here.

249

250 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 4.14. Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece, Sts. Peter and Dorothy, c. 1505–1510, National Gallery, London (Photo: © National Gallery, London/Art Resource, NY).

Spiritual Boundaries 

Fig. 4.15. Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece, Sts. Andrew and Columba, c. 1505–1510, Landesmuseum, Mainz (Photo: © GDKE RLP, Landesmuseum Mainz, Foto: U. Rudischer).

251

252 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Works Cited Baxandall, Michael. The Limewood Sculptors of Renaissance Germany. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1980. Binski, Paul. Medieval Death: Ritual and Representation. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1996. Budde, Rainer and Roland Krischel, eds. Genie ohne Namen: Der Meister des BartholomäusAltars. Cologne: Wallraf-Richartz Museum, 2001. Camille, Michael. Image on the Edge: The Margins of Medieval Art. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1992. Chapuis, Julien. Stefan Lochner: Image Making in Fifteenth-Century Cologne. Turnhout: Brepols, 2004. Chapuis, Julien. ‘Cologne’. In Van Eyck to Dürer: Early Netherlandish Painting and Central Europe 1430–1530, edited by Till-Holger Borchert, pp. 247–251. Tielt: Lannoo, 2010. Corley, Brigitte. Painting and Patronage in Cologne 1300–1500. London: Harvey Miller, 2000. Defoer, Henri L.M. ‘Peter Aertsen: The Mass of St. Gregory with the Mystic Winepress’. Master Drawings 18 (1980), pp. 137–141. Defoer, Henri L.M. ‘Der Meister des Bartholomäus-Altars und die Kunst der nördlichen Niederlande: Betrachtungen anlässlich einer Ausstellung’. Wallraf-Richartz-Jahrbuch 64 (2003), pp. 215–240. Falque, Ingrid. Devotional Portraiture and Spiritual Experience in Early Netherlandish Painting. Leiden: Brill, 2019. Gaus, Joachim. ‘“Herr, sie werden im Licht deines Antlitzes wandeln”’.—Der ThomasAltar des Meisters des Bartholomäus-Altares’. In Genie ohne Namen: Der Meister des Bartholomäus-Altars, edited by Rainer Budde and Roland Krischel, pp. 44–51. Cologne: Wallraf-Richartz Museum, 2001. Jacobs, Lynn F. Opening Doors: The Early Netherlandish Triptych Reinterpreted. University Park, PA: The Pennsylvania State University Press, 2012. Jacobs, Lynn F. Thresholds and Boundaries: Liminality in Netherlandish Art (1385–1530). London: Routledge, 2018. Kemperdick, Stephan. ‘Abstraktion und Mimesis: Spielarten der Graumalerei in Spätmittelalter und Früher Neuzeit’. In Die Farbe Grau, edited by Magdalena Bushart and Gregor Wedekind, pp. 15–39. Berlin: De Gruyter, 2016. Kemperdick, Stephan and Matthias Weniger. ‘Der Bartolomäusmeister—Herkunft und Anfänge seines Stils’. In Genie ohne Namen: Der Meister des Bartholomäus-Altars, edited by Rainer Budde and Roland Krischel, pp. 26–43. Cologne: Wallraf-Richartz Museum, 2001. Krautheimer, Richard. ‘Introduction to an “Iconography of Architecture”’. Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes 5 (1942), pp. 1–33.

Spiritual Boundaries 

Krieger, Michaela. ‘Skulptur als Thema der Malerei im Œuvre des Bartholomäusmeisters’. In Genie ohne Namen: Der Meister des Bartholomäus-Altars, edited by Rainer Budde and Roland Krischel, pp. 222–239. Cologne: Wallraf-Richartz Museum, 2001. Krischel, Roland. ‘Der Meister des Bartholomäusmeister—Porträt eines Unbekannten’. In Genie ohne Namen: Der Meister des Bartholomäus-Altars, edited by Rainer Budde and Roland Krischel, pp. 12–25. Cologne: Wallraf-Richartz Museum, 2001. MacGregor, Neil. A Victim of Anonymity: The Master of the Saint Bartholomew Altarpiece. New York: Thames and Hudson, 1994. Melster, Alexandra and Peter Klein. ‘Kunsthistorische Datierungsvorschläge und dendrochronologische Daten zu den Tafeln vom Meister des Bartholomäus-Altars (Tabelle)’. In Genie ohne Namen: Der Meister des Bartholomäus-Altars, edited by Rainer Budde and Roland Krischel, pp. 186–191. Cologne: Wallraf-Richartz Museum, 2001. Nürnberger, Ulrike. ‘The Late Medieval Workshop of the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altar: An Investigation of Underdrawings and Paintings’. Phd dissertation, Indiana University, 1997. Nürnberger, Ulrike. ‘Die Unterzeichnungen in den Gemälden des Meisters des BartholomäusAltars—Zur Arbeitsmethode der Werkstatt’. In Genie ohne Namen: Der Meister des Bartholomäus-Altars, edited by Rainer Budde and Roland Krischel, pp. 151–161. Cologne: Wallraf-Richartz Museum, 2001. Périer-D’Ieteren, Catheline. Dieric Bouts: The Complete Works. Brussels: Mercatorfonds, 2006. Pieper, Paul. ‘Der Meister des Bartolomäusaltares’. In Der Meister des Bartholomäus-Altares, der Meister des Aacheners Altares: Kölner Maler der Spätgotik, pp. 20–43. Cologne: Wallraf-Richartz Museum, 1961. Powell, Amy Knight. Depositions: Scenes from the Late Medieval Church and the Modern Museum. New York: Zone Books, 2012. Prinz, Felix. Gemalte Skulpturenretabel: Zur Intermedialität mitteleuropäischer Tafelmalerei des 15. Jahrhunderts. Berlin: De Gruyter, 2018. Rasmo, Nicolò. Michael Pacher. London: Phaidon, 1971. Rawlings, Kandice A. ‘Painted Paradoxes: The Trompe-L’Oeil Fly in the Renaissance’. Athanor 26 (2008), pp. 7–13. Rimmele, Marius. Das Triptychon als Metapher, Körper und Ort: Semantisierungen eines Bildträgers. Munich: Willhelm Fink, 2010. Rimmele, Marius. ‘Transparenze, variable Konstellationen, gefaltete Welten: Systematisierende Überlegungen zur medienspezifischen Gestaltung von dreiteiligen Klappbildern’. In Klappeffekte: Faltbare Bildträger in der Vormoderne, edited by David Ganz and Marius Rimmele, pp. 13–54. Berlin: Dietrich Reimer, 2016. Schaefer, Iris, Christine Frohnert, Ruth Klinkhammer, and Christa Steinbüchel. ‘Techolo­ gische Untersuchung der Tafelmalereien des Meisters des Bartholomäus-Altars im Kölner Wallraf-Richartz-Museum’. In Genie ohne Namen: Der Meister des Bartholomäus-Altars,

253

254 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

edited by Rainer Budde and Roland Krischel, pp. 117–137. Cologne: Wallraf-Richartz Museum, 2001. Schmid, Wolfgang. Stifter und Auftraggeber im spätmittelalterlichen Köln. Cologne: Kölnische Stadtmuseum, 1994. Schmid, Wolfgang. ‘Netzwerk-Analysen—Der Bartholomäusmeister und das soziale Umfeld der Kölner Kartause’. In Genie ohne Namen: Der Meister des Bartholomäus-Altars, edited by Rainer Budde and Roland Krischel, pp. 52–64. Cologne: Wallraf-Richartz Museum, 2001. Schollmeyer, Lioba. Jan Joest: Ein Beitrag zur Kunstgeschichte des Rheinlandes um 1500. Bielefeld: Verlag für Regionalgeschichte, 2004. Silver, Larry. ‘The Ill-Matched Pair by Quinten Massys’. Studies in the History of Art 6 (1974), pp. 103–123. Söding, Ulrich. ‘Maler und Bildschnitzer: Zur künsterlischen Doppelbegabung Michael Pachers’. In Michael Pacher und sein Kreis: Ein Tiroler Künstler der europäischen Spätgotik, 1498–1998—Symposion, Bruneck, 24. bis 26. September 1998, pp. 15–29. Bozen: Athesia, 1999. Urban, Regina. ‘Die weltliche Kleidung auf Gemälden des Bartholomäusmeisters’. In Genie ohne Namen: Der Meister des Bartholomäus-Altars, edited by Rainer Budde and Roland Krischel, pp. 203–212. Cologne: Wallraf-Richartz Museum, 2001. Voragine, Jacobus de. The Golden Legend: Readings on the Saints. Translated by William Granger Ryan. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1993. Westfehing, Uwe. Die Messe Gregors des Grossen: Vision, Kunst, Realität. Cologne: Schnütgen Museum, 1982. Zehnder, Frank Günter. Katalog der altkölner Malerei: Kataloge des Wallraf-RichartzMuseums XI. Cologne: Stadt Köln, 1990.

5.

Coda: The Triptych in the Age of Dürer Abstract This chapter considers developments in the triptych during the sixteenth century, focusing on triptychs produced by Dürer, Hans Baldung Grien, and Lucas Cranach the Elder. Triptych production declined significantly during this time due to the influence of Italian Renaissance single-panel altarpiece design, as well as the overall decline of religious art due to the Reformation’s association of art and idolatry. Nevertheless, the examples considered here demonstrate that sixteenthcentury triptych production in Germany did include works that continued to explore the Medialität of the format and exploit transparency through the closed and open views. Cranach was even able to transition the triptych into usage as a Lutheran altarpiece, while still exploiting the triptych’s potential for creating layered resonances of meaning. Keywords: Albrecht Dürer, Hans Baldung Grien, Lucas Cranach the Elder, Reformation, Renaissance

In the age of Dürer, the sixteenth century, the spaces of contested boundaries significantly shifted. Whereas fifteenth-century German artists generally interrelated with artistic currents from the Netherlands, now the connections with Italy strengthened and German artists came into closer contact with Italian Renaissance stylistic and intellectual developments. And whereas fifteenth-century German artists still worked within the confines of medieval views of the artist as a craftsman, sixteenth-century artists had a new self-awareness of their status as intellectuals and humanists, which was linked to early modern conceptions of the self and to an overall sense of modernity that arose after the year 1500.1 Moreover, the Reformation movement, which was centred in the German-speaking territories and arose in the early decades of the sixteenth century, shattered the concept of a Christian Europe unified under the Roman Catholic Church and established new boundaries 1 The issue of self-awareness in Dürer and sixteenth-century art is discussed most in Koerner, Moment of Self-Portraiture.

Jacobs, L.F. The Painted Triptychs of Fifteenth-Century Germany: Case Studies of Blurred Boundaries. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2022 doi 10.5117/9789463725408_ch05

256 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

between Protestants and Catholics. In addition, the reformed view that religious art works were idolatrous forced art (in reformed regions) to take on new roles and new subject matter, as well as to shift toward a greater focus on the print medium.2 Sixteenth-century German artists were much less interested in the ‘medium’ or format of the painted triptych. While there could be and were portrait triptychs, the format had its strongest associations with altarpieces and religious objects, and hence became problematic with the onset of the Reformation.3 In addition, the growing influence of Italian Renaissance art on German sixteenth-century artists was also detrimental to the usage of the triptych format. Italian Renaissance artists of the sixteenth century tended to favour the unified single-panel pala over multi-panelled altarpieces of earlier periods, no doubt to a large degree because triptychs and polyptychs were unsuited to the construction of a unified spatial environment through the use of linear perspective.4 Hence, while sixteenth-century German artists negotiated many boundaries, the role of the boundaries of the triptych declined in importance hand in hand with the decline of sixteenth-century triptych production overall. Even so, German artists of the sixteenth century still produced painted triptychs that exploited the Mediatität of the triptych in surprisingly sophisticated ways. The power of the triptych to generate meaning through the nature of its format continued to be recognized and leveraged even during the age of Dürer, as seen in the examples by Dürer, Hans Baldung Grien, and Cranach discussed below.

Dürer’s Triptychs Dürer’s art, as is well known, was especially engaged with breaking down the boundary between the North and Italy, and between the Middle Ages and early modernity.5 Dürer’s involvement with the boundaries of painted triptych, however, appears to have been rather limited. To be sure, our understanding of Dürer’s 2 Some sources on the impact of the Reformation on art include, Baxandall, Limewood Sculptors, pp. 69–93, who considers iconoclasm and the impact of extracting devotional function from sculpture in the wake of the Reformation; see also Christensen, Art and the Reformation and Hofmann, Luther und die Folgen, who focus on the impact of Lutheranism on art. A full bibliography on this enormous topic lies outside the scope of this book. 3 See, for example, Dürer’s portrait triptych, the Triptych of Oswolt Krel (1499), illustrated in Schawe, Alte Pinakothek, p. 129. 4 On the rise of the pala form of altarpiece in Italy, see, for example, Humfrey, Altarpiece in Renaissance Venice. 5 The issue of blending Northern and Italian qualities has been probed most famously by Panofsky, Life and Art, and the relation of Dürer to early modernity is discussed particularly fully in Koerner, Moment of Self-Portraiture.

Coda 

Fig. 5.1. Albrecht Dürer, Paumgartner Altarpiece, c. 1498 (1504?), Alte Pinakothek, Munich (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Alte Pinakothek, Munich/Art Resource, NY).

triptychs is hampered by a lack of any triptychs by his hand that survive in their original form, since most are missing a panel or more.6 Moreover, the surviving examples raise the likelihood that Dürer never actually produced a single complete triptych entirely by his own hand, because he typically relegated the exterior panels (and in some cases, possibly, standing wings) to his workshop associates.7 Nevertheless, one of Dürer’s best known triptychs, the Paumgartner Altarpiece (Fig. 5.1)—despite questions about its dating, conf iguration, and production process8—demonstrates Dürer’s ability to leverage the Medialität of the triptych. 6 The Paumgartner Altarpiece may be missing standing wings (see note 8); the Jabach Altarpiece is missing its central panel; and only the wings of the Heller Altarpiece survive. The Seven Sorrows of the Virgin is not in its complete form, although the exact nature of its original configuration (and whether it was originally a triptych) is unclear. 7 Both the Paumgartner and Heller Altarpieces, for example, had their exteriors painted by the workshop. On the question of whether the Paumgartner Altarpiece had standing wings painted by Hans Baldung Grien, see note 8 below. 8 This triptych has a long and complex bibliography, and questions have been raised about whether the wings were produced earlier than the centre; whether the work originally included standing wings by Hans Baldung Grien; and whether the triptych was originally conceived as a triptych or put together later from parts taken from other altarpieces. Goldberg, Heimberg, and Schawe, Albrecht Dürer, pp. 167–208, argue for a single date of production of c. 1498 (which precludes the work’s being put together from other pieces of other altarpieces) and argue that the presence of the Baldung standing wings remains uncertain.

257

258 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

The Paumgartner Altarpiece was commissioned by members of the Nuremberg Paumgartner family for installation on the east wall on the south side aisle of the Dominican church of St. Catherine in Nuremberg.9 The work presents a central scene of the Nativity flanked by images in the wings showing standing figures of the patrons, Stefan and Lukas Paumgartner, in the guise of Sts. George and Eustace (respectively).10 Such a combination of narrative in the centre and saints in the wings fits comfortably into well-known traditions within the format. While Erwin Panofsky pointed to Netherlandish precedents for this format, such as the Pearl of Brabant (Fig. 2.39), local Nuremberg traditions more likely formed the source here.11 One local precedent, cited by Doris Kutschbach, is the Koler Altarpiece by the Master of the Cadolzburg Altar in the Peterskappelle in Nuremberg (1432–1439), which depicts the Crucifixion in the centre and large standing saints in the side wings.12 However, Dürer’s work includes a feature not seen in earlier Nuremberg examples: a strong stylistic disparity between centre and wings. Dürer’s central panel displays a distinct emphasis on deep spatial recession achieved through the use of accurate linear perspective within a background that incorporates both an architectural and landscape setting. By contrast, his wings present the figures on a much larger scale than the figures in the centre, with the figures placed in a much shallower space against a simple monochromatic black background.13 The Paumgartner Altarpiece interior thus conceives the triptych in terms of contrast and distinct boundaries, rather than in terms of connections between panels. Kurt Löcher interpreted this contrast as proof that the work was constructed from

Other positions on dating include: Panofsky, Life and Art, p. 91, who dates the work probably between 1502 and 1504; Kutschbach, Albrecht Dürer, p. 11, who says it was probably produced over several years and before 1504; Schawe, Alte Pinakothek, p. 134, puts the date as c. 1498 (1504?), suggesting that the centre could be later than the wings; and Salm and Goldberg, Altdeutsche Malerei, p. 73, who note that the date of the triptych must be after Barbara Reich’s 1467 marriage and before Stefan’s 1506 marriage due to the respective presence and absence of their spouses. Gothic and Renaissance, p. 368, argues for production from different altarpieces (see also note 12 for more specifics below). On questions about the inclusion of the Hans Baldung Grien panels, see also Jacob-Friesen, Hans Baldung, p. 88, and Osten, Hans Baldung, p. 41. 9 Gothic and Renaissance, p. 368, and Kutschbach, Albrecht Dürer, pp. 11–41. 10 Goldberg, Heimberg, and Schawe, Albrecht Dürer, p. 202, note that there was a Nuremberg tradition to depict donors as saints. There is a 1778 description of the triptych, which asserts that these saints are portraits of the Paumgartner brothers, which is translated in Gothic and Renaissance, p. 368. 11 Panofsky, Life and Art, p. 91. 12 Kutschbach, Albrecht Dürer, p. 17, drawing on Rasmussen, ‘Nürnberger Altarbaukunst’, pp. 17–18. See Kutschbach, Albrecht Dürer, p. 19, for an illustration of this altarpiece. 13 The black background could be seen as a modern replacement for the traditional gold leaf background, but as discussed by Messerer, ‘Dürer, Eichstätt’, p. 2, black backgrounds were used for portraits in fifteenthcentury Nuremberg; the portrait character of Dürer’s saints could have inspired its usage in the wings here.

Coda 

panels cobbled together from different altarpieces produced at different times.14 But Goldberg, Heimberg, and Schawe convincingly argued that the work was a unified production, noting links to Nuremberg traditions of differences of scale between wings and centre, for example, in the Koler Altarpiece.15 Indeed, Dürer seems to have built upon these traditions when introducing additional, new oppositions into his triptych. As Panofsky argued, the oppositions between centre and wings display the same kind of opposing, paired, art-theoretical solutions that Dürer presented later in the Fall of Man/Nativity prints of 1504: the triptych uses its zones (like the two separate prints) to separate out an exemplary presentation of the human figure in its wings (like the Fall of Man) and an exemplary presentation of space in its centre (like the Nativity).16 In his presentation of the exemplary human figure in the Paumgartner wings, Dürer plays with the boundaries of media in a manner similar to the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece. For Dürer’s figures on the interior of the Paumgartner wings evoke the medium of sculpture, not by imitating grey stone sculptures via the use of grisaille, but rather by suggesting that the figures are polychrome statues. This suggestion of polychrome sculptural status is made through the figures’ large scale, closeness to the picture plane, and placement against the black background, which emphasizes their plasticity and alludes to the idea of sculptures set against a wall. Dürer used some of the same stylistic elements—black background, large scale, and frontal placement of the figures— in his 1507 paintings of Adam and Eve, in which the figures were not intended to be read as polychrome sculptures, but rather as living figures made of flesh and blood.17 But in the Paumgartner Altarpiece, the sculptural effect of the wings emerges not due to the inclusion of specific stylistic elements in and of themselves, but through the contrast between sculpturally enhancing stylistic features in the wings and fully pictorial elements in the triptych’s centre. Moreover, within the triptych, as several scholars have argued, the standing figures in the wings also take on sculptural associations because of their connections to the sculpted guardian figures within German sculpted altarpieces—or ones that combined sculpted centres with painted wings, such as 14 See Gothic and Renaissance, p. 368. Kurt Löcher’s argument here is that wings with the saints/patrons might have come from another altarpiece, perhaps one with a carved central shrine, which was given to the Church of St. Catherine prior to Stefan’s pilgrimage to the Holy Land in 1498; these wings, according to Löcher, were then later attached to a Nativity panel, painted later, which originally was an epitaph, but then was transformed into an altarpiece dedicated to the Virgin. 15 Goldberg, Heimberg, and Schawe, Albrecht Dürer, p. 201. On the Koler Altarpiece, see Kutschbach, Albrecht Dürer, pp. 19–20. 16 Panofsky, Life and Art, p. 91. For an illustration of the Fall of Man engraving, see Panofsky, Life and Art, fig. 117. 17 For an illustration of the Adam and Eve paintings, see Panofsky, Life and Art, Figs. 164–165.

259

260 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Multscher’s Sterzinger Altarpiece.18 Hence, Dürer creates, all within the medium of painting, the impression of a painted centre accompanied by polychromed statues in the wings. This play on artistic media within the format or ‘medium’ of the triptych generates a nexus of meanings out of which the saints/donors can be seen both as guardians of and as witnesses at the Nativity scene—while at the same time, they can be understood as existing outside the time and space of the Nativity.19 All of these consequences that arise out of Dürer’s handling of this triptych represent new and sophisticated ways in which Dürer leverages the triptych’s Medialität. The format of the interior also resonates with the closed view, which was executed by the Dürer shop. This view has an Annunciation in demi-grisaille (the Virgin’s face and hands have flesh-tones), produced by an unidentified member of the shop, of which only the Virgin Annunciate survives.20 This figure reads as a largely unpolychromed version of the fully polychromed statues represented by the plastically conceived Sts. George and Eustace on the triptych’s interior. The demi-grisaille Annunciation also has a stony ground and black background like the interior wings and depicts a scene from the life of the Virgin, whose story continues in the Nativity scene within.21 In this way, the imagery reverberates across the two views of the triptych and through the two sides of the wing panels, creating a quality of transparency between exterior and interior (an issue discussed previously in Chapter Two). Within this transparency, the muted subdued tones of the exterior create anticipation for and desire to see what lies behind, the surge of colour within the opened view. Dürer’s triptych production, as noted above, was fairly limited, and it was not particularly consistent in its approach to the format. The Jabach Altarpiece could well have had a similar iconographic programme to the Paumgartner, in which a narrative centre is flanked by saints in the wings. However, since the Jabach 18 Scholars who have argued for an association with sculpted guardian figures include: Rasmussen, ‘Nürnberger Altarbaukunst’, pp. 17–18; Messerer, ‘Dürer, Eichstätt’, pp. 2–3, who also argues that the bare ground here, with a few stones, functions more as a platform, as if for a statue, rather than as an environment; Kutschbach, Albrecht Dürer, p. 23; and Goldberg, Heimberg, and Schawe, Albrecht Dürer, p. 202, who also consider the Pathosfiguren on the graves of the Venetian doges as another possible sculptural source for Dürer here. On the Sterzing Altarpiece, see Söding, Hans Multscher, who reconstructs the work, pp. 12–19, with an illustration, p. 13, and discusses the guardian figures, pp. 27–29. 19 Goldberg, Heimberg, and Schawe, Albrecht Dürer, p. 202, suggested the wings might have been placed at an angle to allow the figures in the wings to look at the central panel, perhaps reflecting something Dürer saw in Italy; on the likely angled placement of Netherlandish triptych wings, see Jacobs, Opening Doors, p. 9, p. 10, pp. 77–79, pp. 113–114, and pp. 125–126. 20 For an illustration of this work, see Schawe, Alte Pinakothek, p. 356. This is the only known use of demigrisaille within the Dürer shop’s triptych production. Otherwise, Dürer’s triptychs have coloured exteriors (the Ober St. Veit Triptych and the Jabach Altarpiece) or more fully monochrome grisaille, the Heller Altarpiece, which, as discussed in Chapter Two, may have been required by the donor to have a grisaille exterior. 21 The black background, to be sure, is very common throughout Dürer’s paintings, not just his triptychs.

Coda 

Altarpiece only preserves its wings (which depict saints on the interior and a scene from the life of Job on the exterior), the content of the central panel, and even its medium, remains uncertain.22 Other examples do not follow the Paumgartner Altarpiece’s programme of pairing narrative centres with narrative wings.23 For example, the Ober St. Veit Altarpiece, which was designed by Dürer but executed by Hans Schäufelein, depicts the Carrying of the Cross in the left wing, the Crucifixion in the centre, and the Noli me Tangere in the left wing; the work’s exterior depicts Sts. Sebastian and Roch, plague saints, in colour against a black background.24 The Heller Altarpiece also originally combined a central narrative of the Assumption and Coronation of the Virgin with narratives of the martyrdom of the name saints of the donors (who are depicted kneeling in a lower register on the wing), Sts. James and Catherine.25 The exterior of this work, as discussed in Chapter Two, has grisaille imagery on the folding wings, painted by the Dürer workshop (Fig. 2.15), the most fully grisaille examples from that shop, as well as more pictorial grisaille in fixed wings painted by Grünewald (Fig. 2.16). But the Paumgartner Altarpiece’s format of a central narrative and standing saints in the wings was one that Hans Baldung Grien, one of Dürer’s best-known students, often used.

Hans Baldung Grien’s Triptychs Hans Baldung Grien may have been more interested in the triptych format than Dürer, but many of Baldung’s triptychs, like those of Dürer, no longer survive 22 On the Jabach Altarpiece, see Anzelewsky, Albrecht Dürer: Malerische, pp. 178–183, and Kutschbach, Albrecht Dürer, pp. 49–64. 23 One triptych sometimes associated with Dürer is that in Dresden. Panofsky, Life and Art, p. 93, suggested that the Dresden Triptych had its central panel, painted c. 1496–1497, supplemented around 1503–1504 with wings showing the plague saints, Sebastian and Anthony, on commission from Frederick the Wise, due to his fears of the plague. Anzelewsky, Albrecht Dürer: Malerische, pp. 140–141, argues that this triptych was composed of a centre produced by a Netherlandish artist with wings added by Dürer. The Dresden Gemäldegalerie currently considers this work’s attribution to Dürer as speculative and dates the entire work to 1496. For Dürer’s portrait Triptych of Oswolt Krel, which combines a central portrait with wild men and coats of arms in the wings, see Schawe, Alte Pinakothek, p. 128. 24 On the Ober St. Veit Altarpiece, see Kutschbach, Albrecht Dürer, pp. 65–69, with illustrations pp. 81–82. The combination of scenes in the Ober St. Veit Altarpiece is somewhat similar to that found in the main scenes of the cases of Netherlandish carved altarpieces of the f ifteenth and sixteenth centuries that focus on the Passion of Christ, although the Noli me Tangere scene is typically rendered in more ancillary scenes, rather than in the main scenes of these altarpieces. 25 On the Heller Altarpiece, see Anzelewsky, Albrecht Dürer: Malerische, pp. 221–228; Kutschbach, Albrecht Dürer, pp. 71–80; Schulz, Albrecht Dürer; and Decker, Dürer und Grünewald, with a reconstruction of the exterior, pp. 56–75. The theory that the reconstructed panel of the Seven Sorrows of Mary was one wing of a Marian triptych by Dürer seems unlikely, as discussed by Kutschbach, Albrecht Dürer, pp. 97–101.

261

262 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 5.2. Hans Baldung Grien, Martyrdom of St. Sebastian Triptych, 1507, Germanisches Nationalmuseum, Nuremberg (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Germanisches Nationalmuseum, Nuremberg/Dirk Meßberger/Art Resource, NY).

intact. Two of Baldung’s triptychs, the Epiphany Triptych, and the Martyrdom of St. Sebastian (Fig. 5.2), are among the first works he produced as an independent master in 1507 after leaving Dürer’s shop.26 Both show the influence of the Paumgartner Altarpiece (Fig. 5.1) but develop an even greater sense of the transparency between interior and exterior. Like the Paumgartner Altarpiece, the Epiphany and Martyrdom of St. Sebastian Triptychs depict a narrative central scene flanked by standing saints at the sides. But unlike Dürer’s example, the standing saints in Baldung’s wings do not stand before black backgrounds, but rather before recessive landscape backgrounds similar to those in the central scenes. In the Martyrdom of St. Sebastian Triptych (Fig. 5.2), a work likely commissioned by the Archbishop Ernst von Wettin, Baldung creates a sense of connection between the settings of all three interior panels.27 The green fir trees at the top left of the martyrdom scene 26 For an illustration of the Epiphany Triptych, see Osten, Hans Baldung, Tafeln 3–5. 27 On this work, see Osten, Hans Baldung, pp. 49–53, Gothic and Renaissance, pp. 371–374, and Löcher, Gemälde des 16. Jahrhunderts, pp. 43–49.

Coda 

in the centre are linked to the edge of the fir tree at the top right of the left wing depicting St. Stephen; also the slope of the bare ground at the bottom of the central panel continues into the line of the ground in the left panel. The connections at the right side are less continuous due to the shift from solid ground to the river in which St. Christopher stands, but the continuation of sky with grey clouds unites the feel of the two spaces. Just as the interior of this triptych is unified, so too are the interior panels unified with those on the exterior. The reverses of the shutters (Fig. 5.3) depict two female saints, Apollonia and Dorothy, thereby establishing a female/male hierarchy of saints between the outside and the inside of the triptych. But while the exterior is subordinated in terms of the sex of the saints, it is closely linked to the interior due to the use of full colouration on the exterior, which differs from the use of demi-grisaille for the Paumgartner’s Annunciation scene. Not only are Apollonia and Dorothy shown in brilliant colour, but they are depicted within fully recessive landscape spaces, which have the same trees and meadows found in the backgrounds of their male counterparts. Even the ground has the same sorts of rocks and pebbles as the ground on which Stephen stands.28 Moreover, other elements within the exterior wings resonate with and hence establish transparency with the imagery on the other side of the panels. For example, Apollonia’s red gown picks up the colouration of the red cloak of Christopher on the opposite interior panel, while her brocaded sleeves are mirrored in the brocaded dalmatic of Stephen on the opposing side of her panel. The child reaching for flowers from Dorothy’s basket is repeated in the Christ child on Christopher’s shoulders; the emphasis on the thin trunk of the tree at the left of her panel recurs in the walking stick Christopher carries. The positioning of Dorothy’s head and her turban-like hair are almost exactly like that of the man with a headdress in a brocaded garment at the far right of the central panel, sometimes identified as the donor in the guise of Diocletian or his prefect.29 And while the lime green colouration of Dorothy’s garment is unmatched within the panel, it may serve as a self-aware reference to the artist, known for his preference for the colour green, who makes an appearance in a self-portrait, clad in a much darker green, next to Sebastian in the central panel.30 Hence the transparencies 28 The panel with St. Stephen has more rocks on the ground than the others, alluding to his martyrdom by stoning, and there are two stones on his brocaded dalmatic as well; see Osten, Hans Baldung, p. 51. This rocky ground, also seen in Dürer’s Paumgartner Altarpiece, seems to be common in sixteenth-century German painting. 29 On the identification of this figure, see, for example, Osten, Hans Baldung, p. 52. 30 This coloristic preference is thought to explain his nickname of ‘Grien’, which might have been needed to distinguish him from other Hanses who were apprentices in Dürer’s shop at the same time as Baldung, including Hans Schäufelein and Hans Leu II. On this self-portrait and the importance of self-awareness within this triptych, see Koerner, Moment of Self-Portraiture, pp. 423–426.

263

264 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 5.3. Hans Baldung Grien, Sts. Apollonia and Dorothy, exterior of the Martrydom of St. Sebastian Triptych, 1507, Germanisches Nationalmuseum, Nuremberg (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Germanisches Nationalmuseum, Nuremberg/Dirk Meßberger/Art Resource, NY).

Coda 

between the exterior and interior here stand as deliberate ways in which Hans Baldung Grien strove to signal to viewers and make viewers aware of what awaited them when the triptych would be opened. In addition to these two 1507 triptychs, one other Baldung triptych survives intact or in its original condition,31 the Freiburg Altarpiece, a monumental and complex work produced for the high altar of Freiburg Cathedral.32 This most prestigious commission of Baldung’s career, likely procured with the help of Baldung’s family connections with Freiburg University, was produced between 1512 and 1516.33 The work’s format included both fixed as well as folding wings. Its exterior (Fig. 5.4) presents four narrative events in the life of the Virgin (the Annunciation, Visitation, Nativity, and Flight into Egypt), shown in brilliant colour, while its interior (Fig. 5.5) depicts a narrative scene, the Coronation of the Virgin, flanked by images in the wings of the Apostles, six per side.34 The Apostles, like the saints in the Paumgartner Altarpiece, appear before a black background and have a highly plastic appearance.35 In one sense, the two views of the Freiburg Altarpiece seem very disparate. The altarpiece’s spatial exterior stands apart from the interior, which lacks any sense of rational space. And the highly colourful exterior differs from the interior, in which the wings’ predominance of white against a black background drains much of the colour out of the interior, in an unusual reversal of colour hierarchies (harkening back to Angler’s Tabula Magna (Figs. 2.6, 2.7, 2.8, 2.9, 2.10, discussed in Chapter 31 There are possibly three other triptychs produced by Baldung or his shop, which no longer remain intact, or are no longer in their original condition due to separation of the panels. The first is a triptych thought to have been formed from the two wings in Basel and Dessau, perhaps from a Marian altarpiece, which have narrative scenes on the interior with gold leaf backgrounds and standing saints on the interior (see Osten, Hans Baldung, pp. 62–66); possibly, the centre was carved, rather than painted. The second is a triptych, which would have had f ixed rather than folding wings made up of the three panels in Washington, Cleveland, and Cologne, an Anna Selbdritt, Mass of St. Gregory, and St. John the Evangelist on Patmos. On this potential triptych, see Osten, Hans Baldung, pp. 66–74, who raises a second possibility for its format (unlikely in my opinion), that it could have been an antependium, and Gothic and Renaissance, pp. 375–379, which argues that the work most likely was a small triptych with fixed wings. The backs of these panels are not painted. Finally, a third remnant from a likely triptych are the two wings in Frankfurt with standing saints and small donors on the interior and grisaille standing saints in two registers on the exterior, a format similar to the exterior of Dürer’s Heller Altarpiece (Fig. 2.15). These are the only known examples of grisaille in Baldung’s oeuvre; on these panels, see Osten, Hans Baldung pp. 96–99, who, on p. 98, attributes the exterior wings to a workshop hand. 32 On this work, see Osten, Hans Baldung, pp. 99–118, Durian-Ress, Hans Baldung, pp. 269–300, and Jacob-Friesen, Hans Baldung, pp. 174–177. 33 Jacob-Friesen, Hans Baldung, p. 174. 34 The work also has a sculpted predella, which depicts the Epiphany. 35 As scholars have noted, these apostles have been displaced onto the wings from their typical position at the bottom of the Assumption and Coronation of the Virgin scene and are assimilated into the Pentecost scene with the addition of flames above their heads. So, to some degree, the narrative content of the Coronation scene has been played down and the non-narrative elements have been heightened.

265

266 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 5.4. Hans Baldung Grien, Annunciation, Visitation, Nativity, Flight into Egypt, exterior of the Freiburg Altarpiece, 1512–1516, Freiburger Münster, Freiburg im Breisgau (Photo: Nicola De Carlo/Alamy Stock Photo).

Fig. 5.5. Hans Baldung Grien, Coronation of the Virgin, interior of the Freiburg Altarpiece, 1512–1516, Freiburger Münster, Freiburg im Breisgau (Photo: © akg-images / Florian Monheim / Bildarchiv Monheim GmbH).

Coda 

Fig. 5.6. Hans Baldung Grien, Crucifixion with Sts. Jerome, John the Baptist (left), Laurence and George (right), back of the Freiburg Altarpiece, 1512–1516, Freiburger Münster, Freiburg im Breisgau (Image: Wikimedia Commons licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0).

Two).36 But the two views are linked by the connections between the fretwork at the tops of all the scenes, which connects them formally and creates an element of transparency as the imagery moves from the historical narrative on the exterior to a heavenly epiphany on the interior. This work has an added layer of representation. In line with traditions in Nuremberg (as well as in Swabia and Bavaria), the work is painted on its backside (Fig. 5.6).37 The back depicts a Crucifixion flanked by two saints at each side; the lateral pairs of saints are painted on the reverses of the fixed wings. The imagery on the back of the Freiburg Altarpiece carries the black background of the altarpiece’s front side’s folding wings onto the reverses of the fixed wings and transforms the glorious heavenly glow of the front side’s central panel where Christ and Mary rule 36 Baldung did not, as far as is known have any signif icant involvement with grisaille in his works, although as indicated in note 31 above, one of his altarpieces did have a grisaille exterior. 37 Durian-Ress, Hans Baldung, p. 296, cites this tradition as one reason why the back may have been painted, but also notes that the full reason is not clear, and that the presence and function of a fountain in the area behind the altarpiece raises questions about what kinds of ritual activities might have taken place behind the altarpiece, which are still unknown. The backside of the altarpiece also includes a painted predella with portraits of four men, identified in an inscription below, in adoration of the Virgin and Child.

267

268 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

in heaven into the dark earthbound gloom on the back side where Christ dies on the cross. In a similar sort of negative transformation, the back of the work mirrors the fretwork on the front of the altarpiece. However, the backside includes fretwork only on the wings, not the centre, and reduces it from the elaborate, gilded, sculpted fretwork on the front to much simpler, stripped down versions of the same forms, painted in grey and brown tones on the altarpiece’s back. In this altarpiece, then, Hans Baldung Grien played with three levels of transparency, and turned the back of the altarpiece into a sad reversal of the glories filtered through the two views on the work’s front.

Cranach’s Triptychs The production of triptychs within the workshop of Lucas Cranach the Elder was fairly extensive, especially compared to the known works of Dürer and Hans Baldung Grien. The works that survive from Cranach and his shop take on a variety of sizes, ranging from small, non-narrative works to larger-scaled works, and they incorporate a range of themes, with some devoted to iconic imagery, others to narrative imagery, and one even devoted fully to portraits. As a whole, the group displays no consistent approach to the format and many display no special sensitivity to issues of Medialität. Nevertheless, some do show a distinct awareness of the possibilities of the format and situate themselves in nuanced ways in relation to past and current traditions of triptych design in both Germany and the Netherlands. Moreover, as the century progressed, Cranach even experimented with how the triptych format could function within the context of Reformation art, a daring experiment indeed given how closely the triptych had been connected to the functions and meanings of the Catholic altarpiece.38 One of the earliest known triptychs by Cranach, the Martyrdom of St. Catherine Triptych of 1506 in Dresden (Figs. 5.7, 5.8), like Baldung’s triptychs, shows distinct similarities with Dürer’s Paumgartner Altarpiece (Fig. 5.1). Like the Paumgartner Altarpiece, Cranach’s work presents an interior (Fig. 5.7) showing a narrative scene—in this case, St. Catherine’s martyrdom by beheading after an attempt to kill her on the wheel failed—paired with standing saints in the interior wings (here, Sts. Dorothy, Agnes, and Cunigunde in the left wing, and Sts. Barbara, Ursula, and Margaret in the right wing). The exterior of Cranach’s triptych, which depicts additional female 38 This is not to say that the triptych was inherently tied to a specific function, since throughout its history it served a variety of functions and was not limited to altarpiece functions, as noted in Jacobs, Opening Doors, pp. 15–20. Nevertheless, the association with the altarpiece function was a strong one, which would have been very problematic in Reformed territories.

Coda 

Fig. 5.7. Lucas Cranach the Elder, Martyrdom of St. Catherine Triptych, 1506, Gemäldegalerie Alte Meister, Staatliche Kunstsammlungen, Dresden (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Gemäldegalerie, Alte Meister, Staatliche Kunstsammlungen, Dresden/Elke Estel/Hans-Peter Klut/Art Resource, NY).

saints, Genevieve and Apollonia on the left and Christina and Ottilia on the right, is particularly close to Dürer’s example in situating the saints against a black background like the Paumgartner Altarpiece’s inner wings. Indeed, the motivation for the commissioning of Cranach’s triptych may even have been similar to that of the Paumgartner Altarpiece: the Martyrdom of St. Catherine Triptych is thought to have been commissioned to commemorate the Elector Frederick the Wise of Saxony’s trip to the Holy Land, which took him to the sanctuary of St. Catherine, just as the Paumgartner Altarpiece is sometimes thought to have commemorated Stefan Paumgartner’s trip to the Holy Land.39 Moreover, the Martyrdom of St. Catherine Triptych, like the Paumgartner Altarpiece, contains portraits, though here the portraits are found in the bystanders, not the saints, since the portraits of the Elector Frederick, his nephew, and others identified as aristocrats, clerics, and scholars were male and could not be fashioned in the guise of the female saints, as occurred with the assimilation of the features of the Paumgartner brothers into the depiction of the male saints in Dürer’s work. 40 39 Schade, Cranach, p. 25. 40 Schade, Cranach, p. 25, identified the Elector at the upper left of the central panel and his nephew John Frederick next to St. Dorothy; he also identified the figure next to the Elector probably as Duke Christopher of Bavaria. However, there has been much debate over the identity of the figures in the scene, with many scholars identifying the figures as various aristocrats and humanist scholars, including many associated with Wittenberg University. On these identifications, see, for example, Kaemmerer, ‘Bildnisse’; Rudloff-Hille, Lucas Cranach, pp. 7–19; Mahn, ‘Katharinenaltar’, pp. 275–277; Marx, ‘Cranach und Dürer’, p. 14, who includes more general arguments, on pp. 15–22, about Cranach’s dependence on Dürer’s works

269

270 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 5.8. Lucas Cranach the Elder, Genevieve and Apollonia (left), Sts. Christina and Ottilia (right), exterior of the Martyrdom of St. Catherine Triptych, 1506, National Gallery, London (Photo: © National Gallery, London/Art Resource, NY).

Nevertheless, Cranach’s triptych has a more unified interior than the Paumgartner Altarpiece. Rather than differentiating the backgrounds and spaces of the centre and wings to create disjunctions between these two zones, as Dürer did (and as discussed above), Cranach fashions his triptych’s interior as a fairly unified spatial environment more in the manner of Baldung’s Martyrdom of St. Sebastian Triptych (Figs. 5.2, 5.3) produced one year later. While the Martyrdom of St. Catherine Triptych for his portrait style, and fuller bibliographic references regarding the portraits in note 1; and Szymczak, ‘Katharinenaltar’, p. 149. Jahn, ‘Weg’, p. 35, believes that the pressure to include many portraits in this painting, presumably by the donor, resulted in the lack of spatial clarity in this triptych.

Coda 

does not establish a fully seamless flow between all three panels (for example, the wheel and figures at the edge of the central panel are cut off and do not continue across the adjacent sections of the wings), nevertheless, the landscape backgrounds behind all three panels appear similar. Moreover, the horizon line moves across the joints between the three panels in ways that create the impression that all three panels are set within the same environment. In addition, Cranach creates more unity between the opened and closed views of this triptych compared to the Paumgartner Altarpiece. The figures on the exterior of the Martyrdom of St. Catherine Triptych (Fig. 5.8), while set against a black background, are in full colour, unlike the demi-grisaille on the exterior of the Paumgartner Altarpiece. This allows Cranach’s triptych, in the manner of Baldung’s Martyrdom of St. Sebastian Triptych, to create a close linkage between the female saints on the exterior and the interior. While Katja Szymczak has some justification for her claim that the women on the outer wings are more individualized compared to the more stereotypical women on the interior wings, nevertheless, the poses, costumes, colouration, and hairstyles of all the female saints are very similar on both sides of the wing panels. 41 Hence the shift from the exterior to interior simply effectuates a change from figures set in front of a black background to the same figures types set in front of a beautiful, scenic Germanic landscape. When closed, the black background of this triptych thus is not the opaque barrier it might seem to be. Instead, by working in concert with the linkage between the female saints on both sides of the panel, its opacity constitutes not a barrier, but a void that functions as a transparency that helps the viewer anticipate and see through to the views within. Cranach’s style and his approach to the triptych changed significantly after his 1508 trip to the Netherlands, as is evident in his Holy Kinship Triptych in Frankfurt of 1509 (Figs. 5.9, 5.10), which he also executed on commission from Frederick the Wise, although the specific location for which it was intended is unknown.42 Quite likely this triptych, as many scholars believe, was influenced by the Holy Kinship Altarpiece (1507–1509), which Quentin Massys, the leading Antwerp painter of the early sixteenth century, painted for a Confraternity of St. Anne and which Cranach no doubt saw during his trip to the Lowlands. 43 Cranach was influenced by several aspects of Massys’s treatment of the theme, most notably his placement of the scene in an Italian Renaissance architectural setting. Prior to this time, 41 Szymczak, ‘Katharinenaltar’, pp. 151–152. Szymczak takes this observation as a basis for arguing that the female saints on the exterior represent the humanist themes of the four ages and the four humours. 42 Madersbacher, ‘Burgkapelle’, suggests—based on traditions of including the Holy Kinship theme, along with family portraits, in castle church contexts—that the work was originally placed in one of the Saxon castle churches; Hirakawa, ‘Faith, Family’, p. 60, suggests merely that it was placed in a high-ranking church within the Saxon domain. 43 For an illustration of Massys’s triptych, see Jacobs, Opening Doors, plate 34.

271

272 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 5.9. Lucas Cranach the Elder, Holy Kinship Triptych, 1509, Städel Museum, Frankfurt am Main (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Städel Museum, Frankfurt am Main/Art Resource, NY).

architecture had not played an important role within Cranach’s works. But now it formed a key element of the imagery and occasioned the prominent use of linear perspective, which created a much more rational approach to space here than in the Martyrdom of St. Catherine Triptych (Fig. 5.7) just three years earlier. 44 In Cranach’s Holy Kinship Triptych (Fig. 5.9), the use of the balcony to separate Anne’s husbands from the grouping of women and children is also a feature Cranach seems to have directly borrowed from Massys, since such balconies do not appear in earlier German versions of this theme—for example the versions by the Cologne artists, the Master of the Holy Kinship the Elder (Fig. 3.4) and the Master of the Holy Kinship the Younger (Fig. 3.10).45 In addition, the female figure types, especially the Virgin and St. Anne, as well as the types for the children were strongly influenced by Massys, and differ significantly from those included in the Martyrdom of St.

44 Schade, Cranach, p. 36, emphasizes the role of the trip to the Netherlands for making architecture important within Cranach’s work. 45 Snyder, Northern Renaissance Art, p. 341, points out how Cranach’s use of the balcony motif comes from Massys, rather than from earlier German precedents. Cranach does differ from Massys in not placing Mary’s husband Joseph alongside Anna’s three husbands in the balcony area, but rather allowing him into the domain of the Anna Selbdritt, although slightly behind that central grouping.

Coda 

Catherine Triptych.46 Since most of the male figures are portraits—specifically, the Elector Frederick the Wise on the left wing, Duke John the Constant on the right wing, and the Holy Roman Emperor, Maximilian (with the golden chain) with his court chaplain or counselor on the balcony in the central panel47—these figures show no stylistic affinities with Massys and align with Cranach’s portrait style. Nevertheless, overall, Cranach’s painting style shows a significant change in response to his trip to the Netherlands. Not only is his style more assured, a shift that could simply be attributed to greater confidence and maturity, but his modelling is softer and more convincing, and more like that of Netherlandish masters such as Massys, and hence reflects a direct influence from Netherlandish sources. Cranach’s Holy Kinship Triptych was also strongly influenced by Netherlandish approaches to triptych design. Most striking is the rendering of the exterior panels (Fig. 5.10)—which depict the Virgin and Child on the left and St. Anne on the right—in fully monochrome grisaille colouration, which contrasts strongly with the brilliant colours of the interior. 48 Grisaille triptych exteriors represent a longstanding Netherlandish tradition, which, as discussed in Chapter Two, was almost never adopted in German-speaking regions in the fifteenth century. Cranach’s incorporation of a grisaille exterior here is somewhat surprising, since Massys’s Holy Kinship Triptych did not have a grisaille exterior, but actually, as part of a development in early sixteenth-century Netherlandish triptychs, incorporated a fully coloured exterior. 49 Moreover, Cranach also broke with trends toward more pictorial versions of grisaille both in early sixteenth-century Netherlandish and German triptychs by employing a more pseudo-sculptural form of grisaille on the exterior of his Holy Kinship Triptych.50 Cranach creates the impression that the figures are sculptures not only by sticking to pure monochrome, but also by depicting his figures standing in niches on top of stone pedestals. While not all aspects of his rendering are suggestive of the materiality of stone (the flesh and hair seem more pictorial in nature), many features of the images (such as their 46 Here I differ from Müller, ‘Heilige Sippe’, p. 26, who argues against Netherlandish stylistic influence on the interior of this triptych. 47 On the identifications of the figure with Maximilian, see Müller, ‘Heilige Sippe’, p. 27 and his note 24. 48 Schade, Cranach, p. 30, argues that the colours of this painting were not influenced by the more pastel tones of the Massys Holy Kinship Altarpiece, but were more like the clear tones of Dürer’s pictorial works. But Cranach’s colourism here seems to surpass examples such as Dürer’s Paumgartner Altarpiece, so Jahn, ‘Weg’, p. 41, seems correct in his claim that this triptych shows that Cranach was one of the most important colourists of Dürer’s time. 49 On the move away from grisaille in sixteenth-century Netherlandish triptychs and on the exterior of Massys’s triptych in particular, see Jacobs, Opening Doors, pp. 151–158, pp. 197–199, pp. 224–228, and p. 237, with an illustration of the exterior of the Massys Holy Kinship Triptych in Fig. 116. 50 The adoption of more pictorial as opposed to pseudo-sculptural forms of grisaille in German triptychs more generally and in German sixteenth-century triptychs especially is discussed in Chapter Two.

273

274 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Fig. 5.10. Lucas Cranach the Elder, Anna Selbdritt, exterior of the Holy Kinship Triptych, 1509, Städel Museum, Frankfurt am Main (Photo: bpk Bildagentur/Städel Museum, Frankfurt am Main/Art Resource, NY).

Coda 

haloes and the edges of the drapery) do imitate the medium of stone sculpture with their thick, hard edges. Evidently, Cranach’s trip to the Netherlands resulted in his assimilating not just the up-to-date trends in Netherlandish art, that is, those Italian Renaissance-infused features of Massys’s Holy Kinship Triptych, but also the region’s earlier traditions, that is, its fifteenth-century, Eyckian forms of triptych design. As such, Cranach’s Holy Kinship Triptych demonstrates that Cranach’s trip to the Lowlands resulted in his engaging more deeply with Netherlandish approaches to the triptych than previously thought. Yet Cranach’s triptych is far from a mere wholesale adoption of elements of Netherlandish fifteenth and sixteenth-century triptych design. The interior of Cranach’s Holy Kinship Triptych (Fig. 5.9) alters the structure of Massys’s Holy Kinship Altarpiece by extending the central scene out onto the wings instead of depicting narrative events from the life of Anne on the wings as Massys’s does. This allowed Cranach to exploit the format of the triptych to separate the Virgin Mary from her other two daughters named Mary, whom, by legend, St. Anne bore from two other marriages. Hence, Cranach leveraged the Medialität of the triptych, its winged format, to establish the familial hierarchy that Massys accomplished through compositional means, that is, by placing the other two Maries at the outer corners of the scene, seated lower than the centralized Virgin and St. Anne. Cranach also exploited the triptych format itself to communicate political messages about the relations of the Saxon princes to the Holy Roman Emperor, by positioning the princes in the wings, seemingly subordinate to Maximilian in the centre. Yet at the same time, the long narrow format of the wings allowed him to display the princes in full-length splendour that contrasts with Maximilian’s placement in the background, only partially shown behind a balustrade filled with the Saxon coats of arms. In this way, Cranach manipulates the triptych format and other elements of representation both to demonstrate the Saxon princes’ fidelity to their emperor and to assert their power in the wake of conflicts between these two political forces around the time of the creation of this triptych.51 Cranach’s triptych deviated from Netherlandish tradition in an even bolder way when it included on its exterior the Anna Selbdritt theme (that is, the Virgin and Child with St. Anne), which iconographically is simply a stripped-down

51 The political contexts as they relate to the iconography of this triptych are discussed more fully by Ritschel, ‘Frankfurter “Annenaltar”’, pp. 15–19, Brinkmann and Kemperdick, Deutsche Gemälde im Städel 1500, p. 224, and Hirakawa, ‘Faith, Family’, pp. 68–82. Müller, ‘Heiligen Sippe’, pp. 27–28, also considers the political context more briefly in his argument that the triptych is an appeal of the Saxon princes to the Emperor for reconciliation of their political conflicts and a statement of a desire for alliance between the two powers.

275

276 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

version of the Holy Kinship scene shown on the work’s interior.52 Such a level of repetition of iconographic content within the triptych is almost unheard of in Netherlandish art: Massys’s Holy Kinship has additional, completely different narrative events on its exterior (the Offering of Joachim and Anne in the Temple, and the Rejection of Joachim), rather than repeating the core family grouping. The Master of Frankfurt’s Holy Kinship Altarpiece in Frankfurt alternatively has standing male and female saints in grisaille on its exterior (see Fig. 2.17 for an illustration of one panel of this exterior).53 But Cranach had the unique idea of bringing the kernel of the Holy Kinship onto the exterior of the triptych, thereby connecting the imagery on the exterior of the work to its interior in a very powerful way. When the triptych opens, the grisaille statues on the exterior not only come to life, but also their lineage expands with the expansion of the format from two panels to three. Clearly Cranach’s trip to the Lowlands did more than just expose him to Netherlandish uses of the triptych format. It also inspired him to leverage the Medialität of the triptych in ways that differed from Netherlandish precedents. Cranach was also active in utilizing the triptych within the context of the Reformation and in producing Reformation altarpieces, including the Wittenberg Altarpiece (Figs. 5.11, 5.12). This altarpiece, which was commissioned by the town council of Wittenberg in honour of Luther, was produced by Cranach and his workshop most likely over a significant period of time and installed in 1547.54 While the complexities of the work’s relation to Lutheran theology lie outside the scope of this book, the work’s use of the triptych format provides an interesting coda to this coda. In keeping with the Lutheran acceptance of religious art as long as it was not worshipped55—and perhaps even, as Joseph Koerner has argued, as a means of dissimulation through maintaining the appearance of Catholic traditions56—this altarpiece presents its imagery within the traditions of the triptych format. The tripartite character of the medium allows it to incorporate the three central Lutheran 52 Müller, ‘Heilige Sippe’, p. 26, identifies the exterior scene as an Annunciation, an understandable error, given how unusual the repetition of the Anna Selbdritt theme here is, and how common grisaille Annunciations on exteriors of triptychs are. 53 For an illustration of the full exterior of the Master of Frankfurt’s Holy Kinship Altarpiece, see Goddard, Master of Frankfurt, Fig. 6. 54 The production and commission of this work are discussed in Thulin, Cranach-Altäre, p. 9; Koerner, Reformation of the Image; Noble, ‘Wittenberg Altarpiece’, pp. 88–89; and Noble, Lucas Cranach, p. 103. Hintzenstern, Lucas Cranach, p. 99, and Steinwachs and Pietsch, Reformationsaltar, p. 5, discuss the known payments to Cranach from the Wittenberg treasury accounts, which do not specifically refer to the altarpiece, but likely relate to them. 55 Noble, ‘Wittenberg Altarpiece’, p. 90, discusses Luther’s concept of function as key to his ideas about religious art. A fuller discussion of Luther’s view of art is provided in Wartenberg, ‘Bilder in den Kirchen’. 56 Koerner, Reformation of the Image, pp. 72–80, argues for the Lutheran dissimulation of concord through the appearance of Catholic features in the altarpiece.

Coda 

Fig. 5.11. Lucas Cranach the Elder, Wittenberg Altarpiece (Baptism, Lord’s Supper, and Confession), 1547, Stadtkirche, Wittenberg (Photo: © jmp-bildagentur, J.M. Pietsch, Spröda, mit freundlicher Genehmigung der Stadtkirchengemeinde Wittenberg).

ritual practices: Baptism, Eucharist, and Confession (Fig. 5.11). The first two were the only Sacraments of the Lutheran faith (stripped back from the seven sacraments of Catholicism), while the last (Confession), although not literally a sacrament in Luther’s view, was nevertheless a defining Lutheran practice.57 The tripartite format, as Thomas Packeiser has noted, also allows the altarpiece to symbolically reference the format of the church, that is, its traditional three-part structure of a nave and two side aisles.58 The concept of church, though not as a sacred place but as the actions of the community, was central to Lutheran beliefs and was communicated as well by the way in which the altarpiece incorporates the actual architectural setting of the church building in which the altarpiece

57 Noble, ‘Wittenberg Altarpiece’, pp. 96–97 and Noble, Lucas Cranach, p. 106. 58 Packeiser, ‘Pathosformel’, p. 241.

277

278 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

was located, its original window and arch structure, as Koerner has shown.59 The imagery within the triptych situates the interior side wings in spaces that, as Bonnie Noble has noted, are consistent if not completely continuous in their spatial settings.60 The overall impression created, then, is that the three scenes could be taking place in the same church space, that is, within Wittenberg Church itself.61 However, the inclusion of a view through the windows into a landscape behind the central scene differentiates it from the more closed-off spaces in the wings (where nothing is visible through the windows), a contrast that marks a temporal distinction between the enactment of the Lord’s Supper in the past and the enactment of Lutheran rituals in the present day, as depicted in the Baptism and Confession scenes in the lateral scenes.62 The replacement of the original frame with a modern frame, which holds the wings in a fixed position, makes it difficult to ascertain definitively whether the original configuration of the triptych included folding or fixed wings.63 If the wings originally were fixed, as Koerner argues, the altarpiece could be seen, appropriately, as rejecting Catholic forms of theophany, mystery, and revelation and replacing them with a simplicity more appropriate to both Protestant ideals and the simplicity of Cranach’s pictorial style here.64 Nevertheless, since the width of the wings is less than half that of the centre (the centre is 242 cm wide and the wings 108 cm), and since the Cranach shop produced no other fixed-wing Reformation triptychs, this triptych most likely took the traditional form of a folding triptych.65 If so, the 59 Koerner, Reformation of the Image, pp. 69–73, associates the inclusion of the architecture as part of his argument about how the altarpiece strives for self-negation in a sort of self-iconoclasm, an argument that Noble, ‘Wittenberg Altarpiece’, p. 87, and Noble, Lucas Cranach, pp. 101–103, disputes. 60 Noble, ‘Wittenberg Altarpiece’, p. 115, and Noble, Lucas Cranach, p. 119. 61 Thulin, Cranach-Altäre, p. 10, sees the entire ‘front side’, or as I see it, the opened view, as showing the same community, the church, thereby understanding the space somewhat more metaphorically. 62 However, all the scenes are brought into the present by depicting the leaders of the Wittenberg community engaged in the rituals: Melanchthon baptizes in the left panel, Bugenhagen performs confession in the right, and Luther preaches in the predella, as well as being present at the Lord’s Supper in the central panel. 63 On the changing of the original frame of this work, see Thulin, Cranach-Altäre, p. 9, and Koerner, Reformation of the Image, p. 72. 64 Koerner, Reformation of the Image, p. 72, argues for the originality of the fixed wings here. On the links between the folding triptych format and Catholic theology regarding Transubstantiation, see Jacobs, Thresholds and Boundaries, pp. 165–171. On the simplicity of Cranach’s style, see Koerner, Reformation of the Image, pp. 212–251. 65 Thus, for example, the Schneeberg Altarpiece and Weimar Altarpiece were folding triptychs. Other scholars think that the Wittenberg Altarpiece folded, including Thulin, Cranach-Altäre, p. 9, Hitzenstern, Lucas Cranach, p. 99, and Noble, ‘Wittenberg Altarpiece’, p. 81, who talks about the altarpiece opening. Steinwachs and Pietsch, Reformationsaltar, p. 21, refer to the work as a ‘Flügelaltar’, thereby suggesting that it folded, though they do not specifically discuss the current fixed frame of the work.

Coda 

Fig. 5.12. Lucas Cranach the Elder, Sacrifice of Isaac, Christ’s Resurrection and Triumph over Death and the Devil, Brazen Serpent, back of central panel and reverse of wings of the Wittenberg Altarpiece, 1547, Stadtkirche, Wittenberg (Photo: © jmp-bildagentur, J.M. Pietsch, Spröda, mit freundlicher Genehmigung der Stadtkirchengemeinde Wittenberg).

triptych would have had a closed view, which, very appropriately, paired a predella showing Luther preaching before the crucified Christ with two scenes from Hebrew Scripture that had traditional typological associations with the Crucifixion, the Brazen Serpent and the Sacrifice of Isaac.66 As a folding triptych, the Wittenberg Altarpiece could have exploited the Medialität of the triptych format—in particular, its possibility for layered views—to communicate Protestant rather than Catholic messages.67 66 Noble, ‘Wittenberg Altarpiece’, p. 95, de-emphasizes the typological interpretation here; however, Koerner, Reformation of the Image, p. 335, accepts this reference as one layer of meaning here. 67 This represents the first time this triptych has been fully considered in this way. All other treatments, even those that see the triptych as folding, have treated the work as having two fixed views, a front and back, as if permanently opened, as currently it is displayed. However, Koerner, Reformation of the Image, pp. 335-336, addresses transparency (though without using this term) in his claim that front and back of the triptych express ‘one thing, Christ, who will also be present before it [the altarpiece] in the Mass’.

279

280 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

By situating two scenes from Hebrew Scripture on the exterior of a closed triptych (Fig. 5.12), on top of images of Lutheran rituals, a folding Wittenberg Altarpiece would have created two views centred on the theme of faith. The story of the Brazen Serpent, from Numbers 21:4-9, tells how the Israelites were saved from venomous snakes by gazing upon an image of a serpent set upon a pole; Lutherans interpreted this story in connection with faith and grace.68 Similarly, Lutherans saw Abraham’s sacrifice of Isaac as a supreme demonstration of faith, an act that was of particular significance to Lutherans given their belief in salvation through faith alone, not through other forms of mediation.69 As a folding retable, the Wittenberg Altarpiece would shift from demonstrations of Torah faith on the exterior to show how faith operated within Lutheran ritual practice on the interior. When the altarpiece was closed, the blue skies above the Torah scenes would link them visually to the Lord’s Supper on the interior central panel, thereby reminding viewers of what lay within. Moreover, to some degree the wings interrelate between their front and back sides: the left panel opposes the dead figures at the bottom of the Brazen Serpent with the baptized, (theologically) reborn baby at the top; the right panel places Abraham’s faith on the reverse of the Lutheran Confession rite, in which a declaration of belief in the efficacy of the rite is a required part of the ritual.70 The transparency of the Wittenberg Altarpiece is most evident in the relation between the central panel and its reverse (Figs. 5.11, 5.12). The back of the Wittenberg Altarpiece’s central panel depicts Christ Resurrected, rising above the tomb victorious over death and the devil. The resurrected Christ scene appears above the painted backside of the predella, which depicts figures in hell and heaven, thereby giving the entire back of the altarpiece the overtones of a Last Judgement scene. The back and front sides of the central panel of the Wittenberg Altarpiece thus stand in dialogue with one another: the betrayal of Christ in the Lord’s Supper on the front side is answered by Christ’s victory over death and his impending judgement on the back side. Moreover, Christ’s displacement from the centre to the left of the front side’s central panel—which seems to be marked by the prominent pillar in the middle of the Lord’s Supper—is answered by Christ’s frontal placement at the centre of the back side. Indeed, the stone sepulchre depicted before Christ on the altarpiece’s back side echoes the actual stone altar table in the church onto which the altarpiece was placed and before which the Eucharist was celebrated, in front of the front side of the altarpiece.

68 Noble, ‘Wittenberg Altarpiece’, p. 95. 69 Noble, ‘Wittenberg Altarpiece’, pp. 95–96. 70 On this rite, see Rittgers, ‘Private Confession’, pp. 1065-1066.

Coda 

The front and back side of this altarpiece thus communicate key Lutheran theological concepts. The combination of scenes on the various sides of the multiple panels of the altarpiece format expresses both the plainness and complexity of meaning within Reformation thought, while the layering of scenes on the fronts and reverses of the same panels also thematizes Lutheran notions of both the ubiquity and hiddenness of Christ.71 Hence this triptych, like other Catholic triptychs, creates resonances of meaning through leveraging the possibilities of transparencies afforded by the triptych format with its multiple panels with multiple painted sides.72 As is evident from his early triptych production, Cranach clearly understood the traditions of the triptych in Germany and in the Netherlands. As a result, he recognized how the capabilities of the format could be harnessed to communicate new Reformed theological concepts at a Lutheran altar. Within this key Reformation triptych, then, Cranach did not neglect to make full use of the format’s potential for blurred boundaries.

Works Cited Anzelewsky, Fedja. Albrecht Dürer: Das malerische Werk. 2nd Edition. Berlin: Deutscher Verlag für Kunstwissenschaft, 1991. Baxandall, Michael. The Limewood Sculptors of Renaissance Germany. London: Yale University Press, 1980. Brinkmann, Bodo and Stephan Kemperdick. Deutsche Gemälde im Städel 1500–1550. Mainz am Rhein: Philipp von Zabern, 2005. Christensen, Carl C. Art and the Reformation in Germany. Athens, OH: Ohio University Press, 1979. Decker, Bernhard. Dürer und Grünewald, der Frankfurter Heller-Altar: Rahmenbedingungen der Altarmalerei. Frankfurt am Main: Fischer-Taschenbuch, 1996. Durian-Ress, Saskia, ed. Hans Baldung Grien in Freiburg. Freiburg im Breisgau, 2001. Goddard, Stephen H. The Master of Frankfurt and his Shop. Brussels: AWLSK, 1984. Goldberg, Gisela, Bruno Heimberg, and Martin Schawe. Albrecht Dürer: Die Gemälde der Alten Pinakothek. Heidelberg: Braus, 1998. Gothic and Renaissance Art in Nuremberg 1300–1550. New York: Metropolitan Museum of Art, 1986. 71 On the ubiquity and hiddenness of Christ in Lutheran thought, see Koerner, Reformation of the Image, esp. pp. 201–211 and pp. 308–318. 72 Here I differ somewhat from Klípa and Poláčková, ‘Tabulae’, pp. 121–124, who seem to see no thresholds within Lutheran altarpieces. While certainly this altarpiece does not establish the same opposition of heavenly and mundane spaces on the exterior and interior that one sees in many Catholic triptychs, this triptych still exploits layering and transparency in ways that have some parallels with Catholic triptychs, and which exploit boundaries and thresholds.

281

282 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Hintzenstern, Herbert von. Lucas Cranach d.Ä: Altarbilder aus der Reformationszeit. Berlin: Evangelische Verlagsanstalt, 1972. Hirakawa, Kayo. ‘Faith, Family and Politics in Lucas Cranach the Elder’s Holy Kinship Altarpiece’. In Images of Familial Intimacy in Eastern and Western Art, edited by Toshiharu Nakamura, pp. 54–82. Leiden: Brill, 2014. Hofmann, Werner, ed. Luther und die Folgen für die Kunst. Munich: Prestel, 1983. Humfrey, Peter. The Altarpiece in Renaissance Venice. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1993. Jacob-Friesen, Holger, ed. Hans Baldung Grien: Heilig, unheilig. Berlin: Deutscher Kunstverlag, 2019. Jacobs, Lynn F. Opening Doors: The Early Netherlandish Triptych Reinterpreted. University Park, PA: The Pennsylvania State University Press, 2012. Jacobs, Lynn F. Thresholds and Boundaries: Liminality in Netherlandish Art (1385–1530). London: Routledge, 2018. Jahn, Johannes. ‘Der Weg des Künstlers’. In Lucas Cranach der Ältere: Der Künstler und seine Zeit, edited by Heinz Lüdecke, pp. 17–81. Berlin: Henschelverlag, 1953. Kaemmerer, Ludwig. ‘Die Bildnisse auf Cranachs Katharinenaltar in Dresden’. Zeitschrift für bildende Kunst 65 (1931–1932), pp. 193–194. Klípa, Jan and Eliška Poláčková. ‘Tabulae cum portis, vela, cortinae and sudaria: Remarks on the Liminal Zones in Liturgical and Para-Liturgical Contexts in the Late Middle Ages’. In The Notion of Liminality and the Medieval Sacred Space: Convivium Supplementum 2019, edited by Klára Doležalová and Ivan Foletti, pp. 112–133. Brno: Masarykova Univerzita, 2019. Koerner, Joseph Leo. The Moment of Self-Portraiture in German Renaissance Art. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1993. Koerner, Joseph Leo. The Reformation of the Image. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2004. Kutschbach, Doris. Albrecht Dürer: Die Altäre. Stuttgart: Belser, 1995. Löcher, Kurt. Die Gemälde des 16. Jahrhunderts: Germanisches Nationalmuseum Nürnberg. Ostfildern-Ruit: Gerd Hatje, 1997. Madersbacher, Lukas. ‘Die Burgkapelle als Ort verwandtschaftlicher Inszenierung: Neue Familienbilder an der Zeitenwende’. In Burgkapellen: Formen, Funktionen, Fragen—Akten der internationalen Tagung Brixen, Bischöfliche Hofburg und Cusanus-Akademie 2. bis 5. September 2015, edited by Gustav Pfeifer and Kurt Andermann, pp. 117–134. Innsbruck: Universitätsverlag Wagner, 2018. Mahn, Eva. ‘Der Katharinenaltar von Lucas Cranach: Eine ikonographische Studie’. Bildende Kunst (1972), pp. 274–277. Marx, Harald. ‘Cranach und Dürer: Zur Bildnisfrage bei Cranachs Katharinenaltar von 1506’. Dresdener Kunstblätter 441 (1997), pp. 11–24. Messerer, Wilhelm. ‘Dürer, Eichstätt und Sterzing’. Alte und modern Kunst 21 (1976), pp. 1–4.

Coda 

Müller, Matthias. ‘Die Heilige Sippe als dynastisches Rollenspiel: Familiäre Repräsentation in Bildkonzepten des Spätmittelalters und der beginnenden Frühen Neuzeit’. In Die Familie in der Gesellschaft des Mittelalters, edited by Karl-Heinz Spieß, pp. 17–49. Ostfildern: Jan Thorbecke, 2009. Noble, Bonnie. ‘The Wittenberg Altarpiece and the Image of Identity’. Reformation 2 (2006), pp. 79–129. Noble, Bonnie. Lucas Cranach the Elder: Art and Devotion of the German Reformation. Lanham: University Press of America, 2009. Osten, Gert von der. Hans Baldung Grien: Gemälde und Dokumente. Berlin: Deutscher Verlag für Kunstwissenschaft, 1983. Packeiser, Thomas. ‘Pathosformel einer “christlichen Stadt”?: Ausgleich und Heilsanspruch im Sakramentsretabel der Wittenberger Stadtpfarrkirche’. In Lucas Cranach 1553/2003 Wittenberger Tagungsbeiträge anlässlich des 450. Todesjahres Lucas Cranachs des Älteren, edited by Andreas Tacke, pp. 233–275. Leipzig: Evangelische Verlagsanstalt, 2007. Panofsky, Erwin. The Life and Art of Albrecht Dürer. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1955. Rasmussen, Jörg. ‘Die Nürnberger Altarbaukunst der Dürerzeit’. PhD dissertation, LudwigMaximilians-Universität, Munich, 1974. Ritschel, Iris. ‘Der Frankfurter “Annenaltar” von Lucas Cranach dem Älteren aus dem Jahr 1509: Ein Werk aus der Marienkirche zu Torgau’? Kleine Schriften des Torgauer Geschichtsvereins 6 (1996), pp. 7–26. Rittgers, Ronald K. ‘Private Confession and the Lutheranization of Sixteenth-Century Nördlingen’. The Sixteenth Century Journal 36 (2005), pp. 1063–1085. Rudloff-Hille, Gertrud. Lucas Cranach der Ältere: Katharinen-Altar. Dresden: VEB Verlag der Kunst, 1953. Salm, Christian A. zu and Gisela Goldberg. Altdeutsche Malerei: Alte Pinakothek München— Katalog II. Munich: Bruckmann, 1963. Schade, Werner. Cranach: A Family of Master Painters. Translated by Helen Sebba. New York: G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 1980. Schawe, Martin. Alte Pinakothek: Altdeutsche und altniederländische Malerei. Ostfildern: Hatje Cantz, 2006. Schulz, Johann. Albrecht Dürer und der Heller-Altar: Ein Retabel und sein überregionalen Beziehungen zwischen Nürnberg und Köln. https://archiv.ub.uni-heidelberg.de/artdok/2214/1/Schulz_Albrecht_Duerer_und_der_Heller_Altar_2014.pdf (accessed 14/1/2022). Snyder, James. Northern Renaissance Art: Painting, Sculpture, the Graphic Arts from 1350 to 1575. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice Hall, 1985; 2nd ed., revised by Larry Silver and Henry Luttikhuizen, 2005. Söding, Ulrich. Hans Multscher: Der Sterzinger Altar. Bozen: Athesia, 1991.

283

284 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Steinwachs, Albrecht and Jürgen M. Pietsch. Der Reformationsaltar von Lucas Cranach d.Ä. in der Stadtkirche St. Marien Lutherstadt Wittenberg. Spröda: Akanthus, 1998. Szymczak, Katja. ‘Der Katharinenaltar von Lucas Cranach und der Humanismus’. In Nicht die Bibliothek, sondern das Auge: Westeuropäische Skulptur und Malerei an der Wende zur Neuzeit—Beiträge zu Ehren von Hartmut Krohm, edited by Tobias Kunz, pp. 146–156. Petersberg: M. Imhof, 2008. Thulin, Oskar. Cranach-Altäre der Reformation. Berlin: Evangelische Verlagsanstalt, 1955. Wartenberg, Günter. ‘Bilder in den Kirchen: Der Wittenberger Reformation’. In Die bewahrende Kraft des Luthertums: Mittelalterliche Kunstwerke in evangelischen Kirchen, edited by Johann Michael Fritz, pp. 19–33. Regensberg: Schnell & Steiner, 1997.

Bibliography Acres, Alfred. ‘The Columba Altarpiece and the Time of the World’. Art Bulletin 80 (1998), pp. 422–451. Alpers, Svetlana. The Art of Describing: Dutch Art in the Seventeenth Century. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1983. Anzelewsky, Fedja. Albrecht Dürer: Das malerische Werk. 2nd Edition. Berlin: Deutscher Verlag für Kunstwissenschaft, 1991. Avril, François. Manuscript Painting at the Court of France: The Fourteenth Century, 1310–1380. New York: G. Braziller, 1978. Baxandall, Michael. The Limewood Sculptors of Renaissance Germany. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1980. Beutler, Christian and Gunther Thiem. Hans Holbein d. Ä: Die spätgotische Altar– und Glasmalerei. Augsburg: Hans Rüsler, 1960. Bickendorf, Gabriele. ‘Deutsche Kunst und deutsche Kunstgeschichte: Von Winckelmann bis zur Berliner Schule’. In Dortmund und Conrad von Soest im spätmittelalterlichen Europa, edited by Thomas Schlip and Barbara Welzel, pp. 29–41. Bielefeld: Verlag für Regionalgeschichte, 2004. Binski, Paul. Medieval Death: Ritual and Representation. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1996. Blaschke, Rainer. ‘Studien zur Malerei der Lüneburger “Goldenen Tafel”’. Ph.D. dissertation, Ruhr-Universität Bochum, 1976. Blum, Shirley Neilsen. ‘Symbolic Invention in the Art of Rogier van der Weyden’. Konsthistorisk tidskrift 46 (1977), pp. 103–122. Blumenröder, Sabine. ‘Andrea Mantegna’s Grisaille Paintings: Colour Metamorphosis as a Metaphor for History’. In Symbols of Time in the History of Art, edited by Christian Heck and Kristen Lippincott, pp. 41–55. Turnhout: Brepols, 2002. Blumenröder, Sabine. Andrea Mantegna, die Grisaillen: Malerei, Geschichte und antike Kunst im Paragone des Quattrocento. Berlin: Gebrüder Mann, 2008. Borchert, Till-Holger. ‘Some Observations on the Lübeck Altarpiece by Hans Memling’. In Le dessin sous-jacent dans la peinture, colloque IX 12–14 septembre 1991: Dessin sous-jacent et pratiques d’atelier, edited by Roger van Schoute and Hélène Verougstraete-Marcq, pp. 91–100. Louvain-la-Neuve: Collège Érasme, 1993. Borchert, Till-Holger, ‘Color Lapidum: A Survey of Late Medieval Grisaille’. In Jan van Eyck: Grisallas, edited by Till-Holger Borchert, pp. 239–253. Madrid: Museo ThyssenBornemisza, 2009. Borchert, Till-Holger. Jan Van Eyck: Grisallas. Madrid: Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza, 2009. Borchert, Till-Holger. Van Eyck to Dürer: Early Netherlandish Painting and Central Europe 1430–1530. Tielt: Lannoo, 2010.

286 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Brahms, Iris. Zwischen Licht und Schatten: Zur Tradition der Farbgrundzeichnung bis Albrecht Dürer. Paderborn: Wilhelm Fink, 2016. Brand, Lotte. Stephan Lochners Hochaltar von St. Katharinen zu Köln. Hamburg: Preilipper, 1938. Brinkmann, Bodo and Stephan Kemperdick. Deutsche Gemälde im Städel, 1300–1500. Mainz am Rhein: Von Zabern, 2002. Brinkmann, Bodo and Stephan Kemperdick. Deutsche Gemälde im Städel 1500–1550. Mainz am Rhein: Philipp von Zabern, 2005. Budde, Rainer and Roland Krischel, eds. Genie ohne Namen: Der Meister des BartholomäusAltars. Cologne: Wallraf-Richartz Museum, 2001. Burger, Fritz, Hermann Schmitz, and Ignaz Beth. Die deutsche Malerei vom ausgehenden Mittelalter bis zum Ende der Renaissance. Berlin-Neubabelsberg: Akademische Verlagsgesellschaft Athenaion m.b.h, 1913–1919. Burger, Michael. ‘Grisaille in der Glasmalerei: Ein mehrdeutiger Begriff’. In Die Farbe Grau, edited by Magdalena Bushart and Gregor Wedekind, pp. 1–14. Berlin: De Gruyter, 2016. Bushart, Bruno. Hans Holbein der Ältere. Augsberg: Hofmann-Druck, 1987. Caesar, Claudia. Der ‘Wanderkünstler’: Ein kunsthistorischer Mythos. Berlin: LIT Verlag, 2012. Camille, Michael. Image on the Edge: The Margins of Medieval Art. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1992. Campbell, Lorne and Jan van der Stock. Rogier van der Weyden 1400–1464: Master of Passions. Leuven: Davidsfonds, 2009. Carqué, Bernd and Hedwig Röckelein, eds. Das Hochaltarretabel der St. Jacobi-Kirche in Göttingen. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2005. Chapuis, Julien. Stefan Lochner: Image Making in Fifteenth-Century Cologne. Turnhout: Brepols, 2004. Chapuis, Julien. ‘Cologne’. In Van Eyck to Dürer: Early Netherlandish Painting and Central Europe 1430–1530, edited by Till-Holger Borchert, pp. 247–251. Tielt: Lannoo, 2010. Charron, Pascale. ‘Color, Grisaille and Pictorial Techniques in Works by Jean Pucelle’. In Jean Pucelle: Innovation and Collaboration in Manuscript Painting, edited by Kyunghee Pyun and Anna D. Russakoff, pp. 91–107. London: Harvey Miller, 2013. Châtelet, Albert. Rogier van der Weyden. Strasbourg: Presses Universitaires de Strasbourg, 1999. Chlumská, Štěpánka. Bohemia and Central Europe, 1200–1550: The Permanent Exhibition of the Old Masters of the National Gallery in Prague at the Convent of St. Agnes of Bohemia. Prague: National Gallery in Prague, 2006. Christensen, Carl C. Art and the Reformation in Germany. Athens: Ohio University Press, 1979. Corley, Brigitte. Conrad von Soest: Painter among Merchant Princes. London: Harvey Miller, 1996. Corley, Brigitte. Painting and Patronage in Cologne 1300–1500. London: Harvey Miller, 2000.

Bibliogr aphy 

Cuttler, Charles D. Northern Painting: From Pucelle to Bruegel—Fourteenth, Fifteenth, and Sixteenth Centuries. New York: Holt, Rinehart, and Winston, 1968. Decker, Bernhard. Dürer und Grünewald, der Frankfurter Heller-Altar: Rahmenbedingungen der Altarmalerei. Frankfurt am Main: Fischer-Taschenbuch, 1996. Defoer, Henri L.M. ‘Peter Aertsen: The Mass of St. Gregory with the Mystic Winepress’. Master Drawings 18 (1980), pp. 137–141. Defoer, Henri L.M. ‘Der Meister des Bartholomäus-Altars und die Kunst der nördlichen Niederlande: Betrachtungen anlässlich einer Ausstellung’. Wallraf-Richartz-Jahrbuch 64 (2003), pp. 215–240. D’Hainaut-Zveny, Brigitte. Miroirs du sacré: Les Retables sculptés à Bruxelles XVe–XVIe siècles—Production, Formes et Usages. Brussels: CFC-Éditions, 2005. Dijkstra, Jeltje. ‘Interpretatie van de infrarood reflectograf ie (IRR) van het Columba altaarstuk: Een hypothese over het onstaan van de triptiek’. In Le dessin sous-jacent dans la peinture, colloque V, 29–30 septembre–1 octobre 1983: Dessins sous-jacent et autres techniques graphiques, edited by Roger van Schoute and Dominique Hollanders-Favart, pp. 188–197. Louvain-la-Neuve: Collège Érasme, 1985. Dittelbach, Thomas. Das monochrome Wandegemälde: Untersuchungen zum Kolorit des frühen 15. Jahrhunderts in Italien. Hildesheim: G. Olms, 1993. Doll, Nikola. ‘Politisierung des Geistes: Der Kunsthistoriker Alfred Stange und die Bonner Kunstgeschichte im Kontext nationalsozialistischer Expansionspolitik’. In Griff nach dem Westen: Die ‘Westforschung’ der völkisch-nationalen Wissenschaften zum nordwesteuropäischen Raum (1919–1960), edited by Burkhard Dietz, Helmut Gabel, and Ulrich Tiedau, vol. 2, pp. 979–1015. Münster: Waxmann, 2003. Durian-Ress, Saskia, ed. Hans Baldung Grien in Freiburg. Freiburg im Breisgau, 2001. Eisler, Colin. Early Netherlandish Painting: The Thyssen Bornemisza Collection. London: Sotheby’s Publications, 1989. Engelbert, Arthur. Conrad von Soest: Ein Dortmunder Maler um 1400. Dortmund: Cramers Kunstanstalt, 1995. Erlande-Brandenburg, Alain, Jean Grosjean, and Marcel Thomas. La Bible de Prague: Reproduction en fac-similé de peintures de la Bible de Wenceslas IV, roi de Bohême. Paris: Philippe Lebaud, 1989. Falque, Ingrid. Devotional Portraiture and Spiritual Experience in Early Netherlandish Painting. Leiden: Brill, 2019. Faries, Molly. ‘The Technical Investigation of Some Panels in the Master of the Holy Kinship Group: A Progress Report’. In Le dessin sous-jacent dans la peinture: Colloque VI, 12–14 septembre 1985, pp. 63–67. Louvain-la-Neuve: College Érasme, 1987. Faries, Molly. ‘Stefan Lochner’s Darmstadt Presentation in the Temple and the Paris “Copy”’. In Le dessin sous-jacent dans la peinture: Colloque VIII, 8–10 septembre 1989, dessin sous-jacent et copies, edited by Hélène Verougstraete-Marcq and Roger van Schoute, pp. 15–24. Louvain-la-Neuve: Collège Érasme, 1991.

287

288 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Faries, Molly. ‘Underdrawings in Cologne Paintings: Interpretative Issues Related to Attribution and Workshop Practice’. In Unsichtbare Meisterzeichnungen auf dem Malgrund: Cranach und seine Zeitgnossen, edited by Ingo Sandner, pp. 309–316. Regensburg: Schnell und Steiner, 1998. Feuchtmayr, Karl. Die Anfänge der Münchner Tafelmalerei: Ausstellung in der Neuen Staatsgalerie München, Mai 1935. Munich: Wolf, 1935. Fisch, Barbara. ‘Beobachtungen zur “Tabula Magna” aus der Tegernseer Klosterkirche: Monochrome Malerei oder Schäden durch frühere Restaurierungen’. Restauro 100 (1994), pp. 184–186. Foerster, Thomas. ‘Beobachtungen zum Wernigeröder Altar in Hessischen Landesmuseum Darmstadt’. Kunst in Hessen und am Mittelrhein 6 (2011), pp. 9–40. Fransen, Bart. Rogier van der Weyden and Stone Sculpture in Brussels. London: Harvey Miller, 2013. Friedländer, Max J. Early Netherlandish Painting, vol. III, Dieric Bouts and Joos van Gent. Leiden: A.W. Sijthoff, 1968. Fritz, Rolf. Conrad von Soest: Der Dortmunder Marienaltar. Bremen Angelsachsen-Verl., 1950. Fritz, Rolf. Conrad von Soest: Der Wildunger Altar. Munich: Hirmer, 1954. Gaus, Joachim. ‘“Herr, sie werden im Licht deines Antlitzes wandeln”.—Der ThomasAltar des Meisters des Bartholomäus-Altares’. In Genie ohne Namen: Der Meister des Bartholomäus-Altars, edited by Rainer Budde and Roland Krischel, pp. 44–51. Cologne: Wallraf-Richartz Museum, 2001. Geisberg, Max. ‘Der Altar der Marienkirche in Dortmund’. Westfälische Kunsthefte 2 (1930), pp. 12–14. Gellrich, M.W. ‘Aristotle’s Poetics and the Problem of Tragic Conflict’. Ramus: Critical Studies in Greek and Roman Literature 13 (1984), pp. 155–169. Gmelin, Hans Georg. ‘Bertram [von Minden] Master’. Grove Art Online. https://doi.org/10.1093/ gao/9781884446054.article.T008408. Goddard, Stephen H. The Master of Frankfurt and his Shop. Brussels: AWLSK, 1984. Goldberg, Gisela and Gisela Scheffler. Altdeutsche Gemälde: Köln und Nordwestdeutschland, vollständiger Katalog. Munich: Bayerische Staatsgemäldesammlungen, 1972. Goldberg, Gisela, Bruno Heimberg, and Martin Schawe. Albrecht Dürer: Die Gemälde der Alten Pinakothek. Heidelberg: Braus, 1998. Gothic and Renaissance Art in Nuremberg 1300–1550. New York: Metropolitan Museum of Art, 1986. Grape-Alpers, Heide. ‘Die kunsthistorische Stellung des Peter- und Paul-Altars aus der Hildesheimer Lamberti-Kirche’. In Drei Tafeln des Peter-und Paul-Altars aus der LambertiKirche in der Neustadt von Hildesheim, pp. 33–49. Hannover: Kulturstiftung der Länder, 2000. Grötecke, Iris. ‘Die Retabel aus Darup, Warendorf und Isselhorst: Forschung, Werkstatt, Rezeptionsvorgänge’. Westfalen 85/86 (2010), pp. 147–189.

Bibliogr aphy 

Grötecke, Iris. ‘Alfred Stanges Buchreihe Deutsche Malerei der Gotik: Ein Stil als geschichtliches Schicksal’. In Mittelalterbilder im Nationalsozialismus, edited by Maike Steinkamp and Bruno Reudenbach, pp. 13–29. Berlin: Akademie Verlag, 2013. Hadermann-Misguich, Lydie. ‘Rapports d’esprit et de forme entre l’oeuvre peint de van der Weyden et la sculpture de son temps’. In Rogier van der Weyden—Rogier de le Pasture: Peintre official de la Ville de Bruxelles, Portraitiste de la Cour de Bourgogne, pp. 85–93. Brussels: Crédit Communal de Belgique, 1979. Hall, James. The Sinister Side: How Left-Right Symbolism Shaped Western Art. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008. Hamburger, Jeffrey F. ‘Seeing and Believing: The Suspicion of Sight and the Authentication of Vision in Late Medieval Art and Devotion’. In Imagination und Wirklichkeit: Zum Verhältnis von mentalen und realen Bildern in der Kunst der frühen Neuzeit, edited by Klaus Krüger and Alessandro Nova, pp. 47–69. Mainz: Von Zabern, 2000. Hamburger, Jeffrey. ‘Robert Suckale (1943–2020)’. Burlington Magazine 162 (April 2020), pp. 367–368. Hand, John Oliver. Joos van Cleve: The Complete Paintings. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2004. Hand, John Oliver and Martha Wolff. Early Netherlandish Painting. Washington, D.C.: National Gallery of Art, 1986. Harbison, Craig. ‘Iconography and Iconology’. In Early Netherlandish Painting: Rediscovery, Reception, and Research, edited by Bernhard Ridderbos, Anne van Buren, and Henk van Veen, pp. 378–406. Los Angeles: J. Paul Getty Museum, 2005. Hasse, Max. Hans Memlings Lübecker Passionsaltar. Lübeck: Museum für Kunst und Kulturgeschichte der Hansestadt Lübeck, 1994. Hauschild, Stephanie. Meister Bertram: Der Petri-Altar. Hamburg: Hamburger Kunsthalle, 2002. Heiden, Rüdiger an der. Die Alte Pinakothek: Sammlungsgeschichte, Bau und Bilder. Munich: Hirmer, 1998. Hendler, Sefy. La guerre des arts: Le paragone peinture-sculpture en Italie XVe–XVIIe siècle. Rome: ‘L’Erma’ di Bretschneider, 2013. Hengelhaupt, Uta. ‘Der Netzer Altar: Die Zeitqualität der Raumform und der farbigen Gestattung’. In Diversarum artium studia: Beiträge zu Kunstwissenschaft, Kunsttechnologie und ihren Randgebieten: Festschrift für Heinz Roosen-Runge zum 70. Geburtstag, edited by Helmut Engelhart, pp. 105–115. Wiesbaden: Reichert, 1982. Hintzenstern, Herbert von. Lucas Cranach d.Ä: Altarbilder aus der Reformationszeit. Berlin: Evangelische Verlagsanstalt, 1972. Hirakawa, Kayo. ‘Faith, Family and Politics in Lucas Cranach the Elder’s Holy Kinship Altarpiece’. In Images of Familial Intimacy in Eastern and Western Art, edited by Toshiharu Nakamura, pp. 54–82. Leiden: Brill, 2014. Hofmann, Werner, ed. Luther und die Folgen für die Kunst. Munich: Prestel, 1983.

289

290 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Humfrey, Peter. The Altarpiece in Renaissance Venice. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1993. Itzel, Constanze. ‘Der Stein trügt: Die Imitation von Skulpturen in der niederländischen Tafelmalerei im Kontext bildtheoretischer Auseinandersetzungen des frühen 15. Jahrhunderts’. Ph.D dissertation, Ruprecht-Karls-Universität, Heidelberg, 2005. Jacob-Friesen, Holger, ed. Hans Baldung Grien: Heilig, unheilig. Berlin: Deutscher Kunstverlag, 2019. Jacobs, Friedrich. ‘Der Meister des Berswordt-Altares’. Ph.D. dissertation, University of Münster, 1983. Jacobs, Lynn F. Early Netherlandish Carved Altarpieces, 1380–1550: Medieval Tastes and Mass Marketing. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998. Jacobs, Lynn F. Opening Doors: The Early Netherlandish Triptych Reinterpreted. University Park, PA: The Pennsylvania State University Press, 2012. Jacobs, Lynn F. Thresholds and Boundaries: Liminality in Netherlandish Art (1385–1530). London: Routledge, 2018. Jahn, Johannes. ‘Der Weg des Künstlers’. In Lucas Cranach der Ältere: Der Künstler und seine Zeit, edited by Heinz Lüdecke, pp. 17–81. Berlin: Henschelverlag, 1953. Jakoby, Barbara. Der Einfluss niederländischer Tafelmalerei des 15. Jahrhunderts auf die Kunst der benachbarten Rheinlande am Beispiel der Verkündigungsdarstellung in Köln, am Niederrhein und in Westfalen (1440–1490). Cologne: DME, 1987. Jülich, Theo. ‘Die Darbringung im Tempel’. In Gottesfurcht und Höllenangst: Ein Lesebuch zur mittelalterlichen Kunst, edited by S. Ebert-Schifferer and Theo Jülich, pp. 10–37. Darmstadt: Hessische Landesmuseum, 1993. Kaemmerer, Ludwig. ‘Die Bildnisse auf Cranachs Katharinenaltar in Dresden’. Zeitschrift für bildende Kunst 65 (1931–1932), pp. 193–194. Kahsnitz, Rainer. Carved Altarpieces: Masterpieces of the Late Gothic. London: Thames and Hudson, 2005. Kemperdick, Stephan. Rogier van der Weyden 1399/1400–1464. Cologne: Könemann, 1999. Kemperdick, Stephan. ‘I tableau à II hysseoires—ein Bild mit zwei Flüglen: Wandelbare und nicht wandelbare Bildensembles in der Zeit Rogier van der Weydens’. In Der Meister von Flémalle und Rogier van der Weyden, edited by Stephan Kemperdick and Jochen Sander, pp. 117–131. Ostfildern: Hatje Cantz, 2009. Kemperdick, Stephan. Deutsche und böhmische Gemälde, 1230–1430: Kritischer Bestandskatalog. Petersberg: M. Imhof, 2010. Kemperdick, Stephan. ‘The First Generation’. In Van Eyck to Dürer: Early Netherlandish Painting and Central Europe 1430–1530, edited by Till-Holger Borchert, pp. 54–67. Tielt: Lannoo, 2010. Kemperdick, Stephan. ‘Abstraktion und Mimesis: Spielarten der Graumalerei in Spätmittelalter und Früher Neuzeit’. In Die Farbe Grau, edited by Magdalena Bushart and Gregor Wedekind, pp. 15–39. Berlin: De Gruyter, 2016.

Bibliogr aphy 

Kemperdick, Stephan. ‘Helldunkel statt Farbe: Sind niederländische Grisaillemalereien eine Schwierigkeit oder eine Leichtigkeit’? In Chiaroscuro als ästhetisches Prinzip: Kunst und Theorie des Helldunkels 1300–1550, edited by Claudia Lehmann, Norberto Gramaccini, Johannes Rössler, and Thomas Dittelbach, pp. 49–71. Berlin: De Gruyter, 2018. Kemperdick, Stephan and Friso Lammertse. The Road to Van Eyck. Rotterdam: Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen, 2012. Kemperdick, Stephan and Jochen Sander, eds. The Master of Flémalle and Rogier van der Weyden. Frankfurt am Main: Städel Museum, 2009. Kemperdick, Stephan and Matthias Weniger. ‘Der Bartolomäusmeister—Herkunft und Anfänge seines Stils’. In Genie ohne Namen: Der Meister des Bartholomäus-Altars, edited by Rainer Budde and Roland Krischel, pp. 26–43. Cologne: Wallraf-Richartz Museum, 2001. Klee, Ernst. Das Personenlexikon zum Dritten Reich: Wer war was vor und nach 1945? Frankfurt am Main: S. Fischer, 2003. Klípa, Jan and Eliška Poláčková. ‘Tabulae cum portis, vela, cortinae and sudaria: Remarks on the Liminal Zones in Liturgical and Para-Liturgical Contexts in the Late Middle Ages’. In The Notion of Liminality and the Medieval Sacred Space: Convivium Supplementum 2019, edited by Klára Doležalová and Ivan Foletti, pp. 112–133. Brno: Masarykova Univerzita, 2019. Koerner, Joseph Leo. The Moment of Self-Portraiture in German Renaissance Art. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1993. Koerner, Joseph Leo. The Reformation of the Image. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2004. Köllermann, Antje-Fee. ‘Models of Appropriation: The Reception of the Art of Rogier van der Weyden in Germany’. In Van Eyck to Dürer: Early Netherlandish Painting and Central Europe 1430–1530, edited by Till-Holger Borchert, pp. 68–81. Tielt: Lannoo, 2010. Köllermann, Antje-Fee. ‘Wege und Irrwege der Kunstgeschichte: Bemerkungen zu den Künstlern der Goldenen Tafel’. In Zeitenwende 1400: Die goldene Tafel als europäisches Meisterwerk, edited by Antje-Fee Köllermann and Christine Unsinn, pp. 63–75. Petersberg: Michael Imhof, 2019. Köllermann, Antje-Fee and Christine Unsinn. Zeitenwende 1400: Die goldene Tafel als europäisches Meisterwerk. Petersberg: Michael Imhof, 2019. Kraft, Klaus. ‘Zum Problem der Grisaille-Malerei im italienischen Trecento’. Ph.D. dissertation, Ludwig-Maximilians-Universität, Munich, 1962. Krause, Katharina. ‘Material, Farbe, Bildprogramm der Fastentücher: Verhüllung in Kirchenräumen des Hoch- und Spätmittelalters’. In Das ‘Goldene Wunder’ in der Dortmunder Petrikirche: Bildgebrauch und Bildproduktion im Mittelalter, edited by Barbara Welzel, Thomas Lentes, and Heike Schlie, pp. 161–181. Bielefeld: Verlag für Regionalgeschichte, 2003. Krause, Katharina. ‘An der Grenze der Bilder: Inschriften, Kerzen, Blumen’. In Hans Holbein d.Ä: Die Graue Passion in ihrer Zeit, edited by Elsbeth Wiemann, pp. 147–161. Ostfildern: Hatje Cantz, 2010.

291

292 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Krautheimer, Richard. ‘Introduction to an “Iconography of Architecture”’. Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes 5 (1942), pp. 1–33. Krey, Philip D., John A. Radano, and Christopher M. Bellitto. Reformation Observances: 1517–2017. Eugene, OR: Cascade Books, 2017. Krieger, Michaela. Grisaille als Metapher: Zum Entstehen der Peinture en Camaieu im frühen 14. Jahrhundert. Vienna: Holzhausen, 1995. Krieger, Michaela. ‘Skulptur als Thema der Malerei im Œuvre des Bartholomäusmeisters’. In Genie ohne Namen: Der Meister des Bartholomäus-Altars, edited by Rainer Budde and Roland Krischel, pp. 222–239. Cologne: Wallraf-Richartz Museum, 2001. Krieger, Michaela. ‘Zur Grisaillemalerei bei Dirk Bouts’. In Bouts Studies: Proceedings of the International Colloquium (Leuven, 26–28 November 1998), edited by Bert Cardon, Maurits Smeyers, Roger van Schoute, and Hélène Verougstraete, pp. 125–149. Leuven: Peeters, 2001. Krieger, Michaela. ‘Grünewald und die Kunst der Grisaille’. In Grünewald und seine Zeit, edited by Jessica Mack-Andrick, Astrid Reuter, Ariane Mensger, and Angela Wörner, pp. 58–67. Karlsruhe: Staatliche Kunsthalle, 2007. Krischel, Roland. ‘Der Meister des Bartholomäusmeister—Porträt eines Unbekannten’. In Genie ohne Namen: Der Meister des Bartholomäus-Altars, edited by Rainer Budde and Roland Krischel, pp. 12–25. Cologne: Wallraf-Richartz Museum, 2001. Krischel, Roland. ‘Ein “vergiftetes” Meisterwerk?: Theologie und Ideologie im Altar der Stadtpatrone’. Kölner Domblatt 80 (2015), pp. 89–187. Krischel, Roland. ‘Now you see me: Klappbilder als Medienwunder’. In Klappeffekte: Faltbare Bildträger in der Vormoderne, edited by David Ganz and Marius Rimmele, pp. 139–159. Berlin: Dietrich Reimer, 2016. Kulenkampff, Angela. ‘Der Dreikönigsaltar (Columba-Altar) des Rogier van der Weyden: Zur Frage seines ursprünglichen Standortes und des Stifters’. Annalen des historischen Vereins für den Niederrhein, insbesondere das Alte Erzbistum Köln 192–193 (1990), pp. 9–46. Kutschbach, Doris. Albrecht Dürer: Die Altäre. Stuttgart: Belser, 1995. Laabs, Annegret. ‘Das Retabel als “Schaufenster” zum göttlichen Heil: Ein Beitrag zur Stellung des Flügelretabels im sakrale Zeremoniell des Kirchenjahres’. Marburger Jahrbuch für Kunstwissenschaft 24 (1997), pp. 71–86. Lane, Barbara G. The Altar and the Altarpiece: Sacramental Themes in Early Netherlandish Painting. New York: Harper and Row, 1984. Lane, Barbara. Hans Memling: Master Painter in Fifteenth-Century Bruges. London: HarveyMiller, 2009. Lauer, Rolf, Christa Schulze-Senger, and Wilfried Hansmann. ‘Der Altar der Stadtpatrone im Kölner Dom’. Kölner Domblatt 52 (1987), pp. 9–80. Liedke, Volker. Die Münchner Tafelmalerei und Schnitzkunst der Spätgotik: Gesammelte Beiträge zur Kunst, Geschichte, Volkskunde und Denkmalpflege in Bayern und in den angrenzenden Bundesländern, Teil II, Vom Pestjahr 1430 bis zum Tod Ulrich Neunhausers 1472. Munich: Weber, 1982.

Bibliogr aphy 

Liess, Reinhard. Zum Logos der Kunst Rogier van der Weydens: Die ‘Beweinigungen Christi’ in den Königlichen Museen in Brüssel und in der Nationalgalerie in London. Münster: LIT, 2000. Löcher, Kurt. Die Gemälde des 16. Jahrhunderts: Germanisches Nationalmuseum Nürnberg. Ostfildern-Ruit: Gerd Hatje, 1997. Löcher, Kurt. ‘Überlegungen zum verloren Schrein der Grauen Passion Hans Holbeins d.Ä’. In Hans Holbein d.Ä, die Graue Passion: Staatsgalerie Stuttgart, edited by Elsbeth Wiemann, pp. 91–100. Stuttgart: Staatsgalerie, 2016. Luckhardt, Jochen. ‘Das Bildprogramm des Peter- und Paul-Altares aus der Hildesheimer Lamberti-Kirche’. In Drei Tafeln des Peter-und Paul-Altars aus der Lamberti-Kirche in der Neustadt von Hildesheim, pp. 7–17. Hannover: Kulturstiftung der Länder, 2000. Lymant, Brigitte. ‘Das Westfenster der Zisterzienserabteikirche Altenberg’. In Die Parler und der schöne Stil 1350–1400: Europäische Kunst unter den Luxemburgern, vol. 4, Das Internationale Kolloquium vom 5. bis zum 12. März 1979 anlässlich der Ausstellung des Schnütgen-Museums in der Kunsthalle Köln, edited by Anton Legner, pp. 89–93. Cologne: Museen der Stadt Köln, 1980. Lymant, Brigitte. Die Glasmalereien des Schnütgen-Museums: Bestandskatalog. Cologne: Schnütgen Museum, 1982. MacGregor, Neil. A Victim of Anonymity: The Master of the Saint Bartholomew Altarpiece. New York: Thames and Hudson, 1994. Mack-Andrick, Jessica, Astrid Reuter, Ariane Mensger, and Angela Wörner, eds. Grünewald und seine Zeit. Karlsruhe: Staatliche Kunsthalle, 2007. Madersbacher, Lukas. ‘Die Burgkapelle als Ort verwandtschaftlicher Inszenierung: Neue Familienbilder an der Zeitenwende’. In Burgkapellen: Formen, Funktionen, Fragen—Akten der internationalen Tagung Brixen, Bischöfliche Hofburg und Cusanus-Akademie 2. bis 5. September 2015, edited by Gustav Pfeifer and Kurt Andermann, pp. 117–134. Innsbruck: Universitätsverlag Wagner, 2018. Mahn, Eva. ‘Der Katharinenaltar von Lucas Cranach: Eine ikonographische Studie’. Bildende Kunst (1972), pp. 274–277. Markschies, Alexander. ‘Monochrome and Grisaille: A European Overview’. In Jan Van Eyck: Grisallas, edited by Till-Holger Borchert, pp. 267–275. Madrid: Museo ThyssenBornemisza, 2009. Marrow, James. ‘Illusionism and Paradox in the Art of Jan van Eyck and Rogier van der Weyden: Case Studies in the Shape of Meaning’. In Von Kunst und Temperament: Festschrift für Eberhard König, edited by Mara Hofmann and Caroline Zöhl, pp. 156–175. Turnhout: Brepols, 2007. Martens, Didier. ‘Le rayonnement européen de Rogier de la Pasture (vers 1400–1464), peintre de la Ville de Bruxelles’. Société royale d’archéologie de Bruxelles 61 (1996), pp. 9–78. Marx, Harald. ‘Cranach und Dürer: Zur Bildnisfrage bei Cranachs Katharinenaltar von 1506’. Dresdener Kunstblätter 441 (1997), pp. 11–24.

293

294 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Mellinkoff, Ruth. Outcasts: Signs of Otherness in Northern Europe of the Late Middle Ages. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993. Melster, Alexandra and Peter Klein. ‘Kunsthistorische Datierungsvorschläge und dendrochronologische Daten zu den Tafeln vom Meister des Bartholomäus-Altars (Tabelle)’. In Genie ohne Namen: Der Meister des Bartholomäus-Altars, edited by Rainer Budde and Roland Krischel, pp. 186–191. Cologne: Wallraf-Richartz Museum, 2001. Mendelsohn, Leatrice. Paragoni: Benedetto Varchi’s ‘Due Lezzioni’ and Cinquecento Art Theory. Ann Arbor: UMI Research Press, 1982. Messerer, Wilhelm. ‘Dürer, Eichstätt und Sterzing’. Alte und modern Kunst 21 (1976), pp. 1–4. Meyer-Barkhausen, Werner. ‘Die Hofgeismarer Altartafel’. Soester Zeitschrift des Vereins für die Geschichte von Soest und der Börde 78 (1964), pp. 35–42. Miner, Dorothy Eugenia. International Style: The Arts in Europe Around 1400. Baltimore: The Walters Art Gallery, 1962. Möhle, Valerie. ‘Wandlungen: Überlegungen zum Zusammenspiel der Außen- und Innenseiten von Flügelretabeln am Beispiel zweier niedersächsicher Werke des frühen 15. Jahrhunderts’. In Ästhetik des Unsichtbaren: Bildtheorie und Bildgebrauch in der Vormoderne, edited by David Ganz and Thomas Lentes, pp. 146–169. Berlin: Reimer, 2004. Möhle Valerie. ‘Vielfalt – Argumentation – Gleichnis: Das Flügelretabel in St. Jacobi als Bildsystem. In Das Hochaltarretabel der St. Jacobi-Kirche in Göttingen, edited by Bernd Carqué and Hedwig Röckelein, pp. 273–302. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2005. Möhring, Helmut. ‘Betrachtungen zu Tabula Magna und der Lettnerkreuzigung aus Tegernsee’. In Flügelaltäre des späten Mittelalters, edited by Hartmut Krohm and Eike Oellermann, pp. 127–143. Berlin: Reimer, 1992. Möhring, Helmut. Die Tegernseer Altarretabel des Gabriel Angler und die Münchner Malerei von 1430–1450. Munich: Scaneg, 1997. Morris, Amy M. ‘Lucas Moser’s St. Magdalene Altarpiece: Solving the Riddle of the Sphinx’. Ph.D. dissertation, Indiana University, 2005. Müller, Matthias. ‘Die Heilige Sippe als dynastisches Rollenspiel: Familiäre Repräsentation in Bildkonzepten des Spätmittelalters und der beginnenden Frühen Neuzeit’. In Die Familie in der Gesellschaft des Mittelalters, edited by Karl-Heinz Spieß, pp. 17–49. Ostfildern: Jan Thorbecke, 2009. Neitzert, Gabriele. ‘Der Peter-und-Pauls-Altar in der St.-Lamberti-Kirche zu Hildesheim’. Niederdeutsche Beiträge zur Kunstgeschichte 6 (1976), pp. 127–166. Niedhardt, Uta and Christoph Schölzel. ‘Jan van Eyck’s Dresden Triptych’. In Investigating Jan van Eyck, edited by Susan Foister, Sue Jones, and Delphine Cool, pp. 25–39. Turnhout: Brepols, 2000. Noble, Bonnie. ‘The Wittenberg Altarpiece and the Image of Identity’. Reformation 2 (2006), pp. 79–129. Noble, Bonnie. Lucas Cranach the Elder: Art and Devotion of the German Reformation. Lanham: University Press of America, 2009.

Bibliogr aphy 

Nürnberger, Ulrike. ‘The Late Medieval Workshop of the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altar: An Investigation of Underdrawings and Paintings’. Ph.D. dissertation, Indiana University, 1997. Nürnberger, Ulrike. ‘Die Unterzeichnungen in den Gemälden des Meisters des BartholomäusAltars—Zur Arbeitsmethode der Werkstatt’. In Genie ohne Namen: Der Meister des Bartholomäus-Altars, edited by Rainer Budde and Roland Krischel, pp. 151–161. Cologne: Wallraf-Richartz Museum, 2001. Osten, Gert von der. Hans Baldung Grien: Gemälde und Dokumente. Berlin: Deutscher Verlag für Kunstwissenschaft, 1983. Pächt, Otto. ‘Zur deutschen Bildauffassung der Spätgotik und Renaissance’. In Methodisches zur kunsthistorischen Praxis: Ausgewählte Schriften, edited by Jörg Oberhaidacher, Artur Rosenauer, and Gertraut Schikola, pp. 107–120. Munich: Prestel-Verlag, 1977. Packeiser, Thomas. ‘Pathosformel einer “christlichen Stadt”?: Ausgleich und Heilsanspruch im Sakramentsretabel der Wittenberger Stadtpfarrkirche’. In Lucas Cranach 1553/2003 Wittenberger Tagungsbeiträge anlässlich des 450. Todesjahres Lucas Cranachs des Älteren, edited by Andreas Tacke, pp. 233–275. Leipzig: Evangelische Verlagsanstalt, 2007. Panofsky, Erwin. Early Netherlandish Painting: Its Origins and Character. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1953. Panofsky, Erwin. The Life and Art of Albrecht Dürer. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1955. Pauwels, Yves. ‘Les paradoxes du réalisme dans l’oeuvre de Jan van Eyck’. Gazette des Beaux-Arts, 6th ser., 126 (1995), pp. 201–210. Périer-D’Ieteren, Catheline. Dieric Bouts: The Complete Works. Brussels: Mercatorfonds, 2006. Petropoulos, Jonathan. The Faustian Bargain: The Art World in Nazi Germany. New York: Oxford University Press, 2000. Philippot, Paul. ‘Les grisailles et les “degrés de réalité” de l’image dans la peinture flamande des XVe et XVIe siècles’. Bulletin—Musées Royaux des Beaux-Arts de Belgique 15 (1966), pp. 226–242. Pieper, Paul. ‘Der Meister des Bartolomäusaltares’. In Der Meister des Bartholomäus-Altares, der Meister des Aacheners Altares: Kölner Maler der Spätgotik, pp. 20–43. Cologne: Wallraf-Richartz Museum, 1961. Pieper, Paul. Westfälische Malerei des 14. Jahrhunderts. Münster: Landesmuseum, 1964. Pieper, Paul. Der Coesfelder und der Daruper Altar: Zwei Hauptwerke der mittelalterlichen Kunst in Westfalen. Dülmen: Laumann, 1968. Pieper, Paul. ‘Köln und Westfalen in der Zeit nach 1400’. In Vor Stefan Lochner: Der Kölner Maler von 1300–1430, Ergebnisse der Ausstellung und des Colloquiums, edited by Gerhard Bott and Frank Günter Zehnder, pp. 40–45. Cologne: Wallraf-Richartz Museum, 1977. Pieper, Paul. Die deutschen, niederländischen und italienischen Tafelbilder bis um 1530. Münster: Aschendorff, 1986.

295

296 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Pilz, Wolfgang. Das Triptychon als Kompositions- und Erzählform in der deutschen Tafelmalerei von den Anfängen bis zur Dürerzeit. Munich: W. Fink, 1970. Platte, Hans. Meister Bertram in der Hamburger Kunsthalle. Hamburg: Hamburger Kunsthalle, 1965. Powell, Amy Knight. Depositions: Scenes from the Late Medieval Church and the Modern Museum. New York: Zone Books, 2012. Preimesberger, Rudolf. ‘Zu Jan van Eycks Diptychon der Sammlung Thyssen-Bornemisza’. Zeitschrift für Kunstgeschichte 54 (1991), pp. 459–489. Preiss, Bettina. ‘Eine Wissenschaft wird zur Dienstleistung: Kunstgeschichte im Nationalsozialismus’. In Kunst auf Befehl? Dreiunddreissig bis Fünfundvierzig, edited by Bazon Brock and Achim Preiss, pp. 41–58. Munich: Klinkhardt & Biermann, 1990. Prinz, Felix. Gemalte Skulpturenretabel: Zur Intermedialität mitteleuropäischer Tafelmalerei des 15. Jahrhunderts. Berlin: De Gruyter, 2018. Rasche, Anja. Studien zu Hermen Rode. Petersberg: Michael Imhof, 2013. Rasche, Anja. ‘Hermen Rodes Greveraden-Diptychon nebst einigen Anmerkungen zu den zwei verwandten Werken Schinkel-Retabel und Dreiheiligentafel’. In Palmarum 1942: Neue Forschungen zu zerstörten Werken mittelalterlichen Holzskulptur und Tafelmalerei aus der Lübecker St. Marienkirche— Tagungsband und Ausstellungsdokumentation, edited by Ulrike Nürnberger and Uwe Albrecht, pp. 138–165. Kiel: Ludwig, 2015. Rasmo, Nicolò. Michael Pacher. London: Phaidon, 1971. Rasmussen, Jörg. ‘Die Nürnberger Altarbaukunst der Dürerzeit’. Ph.D. dissertation, LudwigMaximilians-Universität, Munich, 1974. Rawlings, Kandice A. ‘Painted Paradoxes: The Trompe-L’Oeil Fly in the Renaissance’. Athanor 26 (2008), pp. 7–13. Reynaud, Nicole. Les primitifs de l’école de Cologne. Paris: Éditions des Musées Nationaux, 1974. Ridderbos, Bernhard. ‘Objects and Questions’. In Early Netherlandish Painting: Rediscovery, Reception, and Research, edited by Bernhard Ridderbos, Anne van Buren, and Henk van Veen, pp. 4–170. Los Angeles: J. Paul Getty Museum, 2005. Rimmele, Marius. Das Triptychon als Metapher, Körper und Ort: Semantisierungen eines Bildträgers. Munich: Willhelm Fink, 2010. Rimmele, Marius. ‘Transparenze, variable Konstellationen, gefaltete Welten: Systematisierende Überlegungen zur medienspezifischen Gestaltung von dreiteiligen Klappbildern’. In Klappeffekte: Faltbare Bildträger in der Vormoderne, edited by David Ganz and Marius Rimmele, pp. 13–54. Berlin: Dietrich Reimer, 2016. Ritschel, Iris. ‘Der Frankfurter “Annenaltar” von Lucas Cranach dem Älteren aus dem Jahr 1509: Ein Werk aus der Marienkirche zu Torgau’? Kleine Schriften des Torgauer Geschichtsvereins 6 (1996), pp. 7–26. Rittgers, Ronald K. ‘Private Confession and the Lutheranization of Sixteenth-Century Nördlingen’. The Sixteenth Century Journal 36 (2005), pp. 1063–1085.

Bibliogr aphy 

Roth, Elisabeth. Der volkreiche Kalvarienberg in Literatur und Bildkunst des Spätmittelalters. Berlin: Schmidt, 1967. Rothstein, Bret. L. Sight and Spirituality in Early Netherlandish Painting. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005. Rubin, Miri. ‘Desecration of the Host: The Birth of an Accusation’. In Christianity and Judaism: Papers Read at the 1991 Summer Meeting and the 1992 Winter Meeting of the Ecclesiastical History Society, edited by Diana Wood, pp. 169–185. Oxford: Blackwell, 1992. Rubin, Miri. Gentile Tales: The Narrative Assault on Late Medieval Jews. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1999. Rudloff-Hille, Gertrud. Lucas Cranach der Ältere: Katharinen-Altar. Dresden: VEB Verlag der Kunst, 1953. Salm, Christian A. zu and Gisela Goldberg. Altdeutsche Malerei: Alte Pinakothek München— Katalog II. Munich: Bruckmann, 1963. Sander, Jochen, ed. Schaufenster des Himmels: Der Altenberger Altar und seine Bildausstattung/Heaven on Display: The Altenberg Altar and its Imagery. Berlin: Deutscher Kunstverlag, 2016. Schade, Werner. Cranach: A Family of Master Painters. Translated by Helen Sebba. New York: G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 1980. Schaefer, Iris, Christine Frohnert, Ruth Klinkhammer, and Christa Steinbüchel. ‘Techologische Untersuchung der Tafelmalereien des Meisters des Bartholomäus-Altars im Kölner Wallraf-Richartz-Museum’. In Genie ohne Namen: Der Meister des Bartholomäus-Altars, edited by Rainer Budde and Roland Krischel, pp. 117–137. Cologne: Wallraf-Richartz Museum, 2001. Schälicke, Bernd, ed. Drei Tafeln des Peter- und Paul-Altars aus der Lamberti-Kirche in der Neustadt von Hildesheim. Berlin: Kulturstiftung der Länder, 2000. Schawe, Martin. Alte Pinakothek: Altdeutsche und altniederländische Malerei. Ostfildern: Hatje Cantz, 2006. Schiller, Gertrud. Iconography of Christian Art. Translated by Janet Seligman. Greenwich, CT: New York Graphic Society Ltd., 1972. Schlie, Heike. Bilder des Corpus Christi: Sakramentaler Realismus von Jan van Eyck bis Hieronymus Bosch. Berlin: Gebrüder Mann, 2002. Schlie, Heike. ‘Martyrium im Bildvollzug: Dieric Bouts’ Hippolytus-Triptychon in Brügge, das Hippolytus-Triptychon in Boston und ein Gebet Jean Molinets im Auftrag von Hippolyte de Berthoz’. In Klappeffekte: Faltbare Bildträger in der Vormoderne, edited by David Ganz and Marius Rimmele, pp. 233–255. Berlin: Dietrich Reimer, 2016. Schmid, Wolfgang. Stifter und Auftraggeber im spätmittelalterlichen Köln. Cologne: ­Kölnisches Stadtmuseum, 1994. Schmid, Wolfgang. ‘Netzwerk-Analysen—Der Bartholomäusmeister und das soziale Umfeld der Kölner Kartause’. In Genie ohne Namen: Der Meister des Bartholomäus-Altars, edited

297

298 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

by Rainer Budde and Roland Krischel, pp. 52–64. Cologne: Wallraf-Richartz Museum, 2001. Schmidt, Hans Martin. Der Meister des Marienlebens und sein Kreis: Studien zur spätgotischen Malerei in Köln. Düsseldorf: Schwann, 1978. Schoell-Glass, Charlotte. ‘En grisaille—Painting Difference’. In Text and Visuality: Word and Image Interactions 3, edited by Martin Heusser, Michèle Hannoosh, Leo Hoek, Charlotte Schoell-Glass, and David Scott, pp. 197–204. Amsterdam: Rodopi, 1999. Schollmeyer, Lioba. Jan Joest: Ein Beitrag zur Kunstgeschichte des Rheinlandes um 1500. Bielefeld: Verlag für Regionalgeschichte, 2004. Schulz, Anne Markham. ‘The Columba Altarpiece and Rogier van der Weyden’s Stylistic Development’. Münchner Jahrbuch der bildenden Kunst 22 (1971), pp. 63–116. Schulz, Johann. Albrecht Dürer und der Heller-Altar: Ein Retabel und sein überregionalen Beziehungen zwischen Nürnberg und Köln. https://archiv.ub.uni-heidelberg.de/artdok/2214/1/Schulz_Albrecht_Duerer_und_der_Heller_Altar_2014.pdf (accessed 14/1/2022). Schütte, Ulrich, Hubert Locher, Klaus Niehr, Jochen Sander, and Xenis Stolzenburg, eds. Mittelalterliche Retabel in Hessen. Petersburg: Michael Imhof, 2015. Schwarz, Michael Viktor. Visuelle Medien im christlichen Kult: Fallstudien aus dem 13. bis 16. Jahrhundert. Vienna: Böhlau, 2002. Silver, Larry. ‘The Ill-Matched Pair by Quinten Massys’. Studies in the History of Art 6 (1974), pp. 103–123. Smith, Molly Teasdale. ‘The Use of Grisaille as a Lenten Observance’. Marysas 8 (1957–1959), pp. 43–54. Snyder, James. Northern Renaissance Art: Painting, Sculpture, the Graphic Arts from 1350 to 1575. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice Hall, 1985; 2nd ed., revised by Larry Silver and Henry Luttikhuizen, 2005. Söding, Ulrich. Hans Multscher: Der Sterzinger Altar. Bozen: Athesia, 1991. Söding, Ulrich. ‘Maler und Bildschnitzer: Zur künsterlischen Doppelbegabung Michael Pachers’. In Michael Pacher und sein Kreis: Ein Tiroler Künstler der europäischen Spätgotik, 1498–1998—Symposion, Bruneck, 24. bis 26. September 1998, pp. 15–29. Bozen: Athesia, 1999. Sommer, Benjamin. Mitteldeutsche Flügelretabel vom Reglermeister, von Linhart Koenbergk und ihren Zeitgenossen. Berlin: Deutscher Verlag für Kunstwissenschaft, 2018. Stange, Alfred. Deutsche Malerei der Gotik. Berlin: Deutscher Kunstverlag: 1934–1961. Stange, Alfred. ‘Einige Bermerkungen zur westfälischen Malerei des frühen 14. Jahrhunderts’. Westfalen 32 (1954), pp. 201–211. Steinbart, Kurt. Konrad von Soest. Vienna: Schroll, 1946. Steinberg, Leo. The Sexuality of Christ in Renaissance Art and in Modern Oblivion. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1996. Steinwachs, Albrecht and Jürgen M. Pietsch. Der Reformationsaltar von Lucas Cranach d.Ä. in der Stadtkirche St. Marien Lutherstadt Wittenberg. Spröda: Akanthus, 1998.

Bibliogr aphy 

Stoichita, Victor Ieronim. The Self-Aware Image: An Insight into Early Modern Meta-Painting. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997. Suckale, Robert. ‘Wilhelm Pinder und die deutsche Kunstwissenschaft nach 1945’. Kritische Berichte 14, no. 4 (1986), pp. 5–17. Suckale, Robert. ‘Süddeutsche szenische Tafelbilder um 1420–1450: Erzählung im Spannungsfeld zwischen Kult- und Andachtsbild’. In Stil und Funktion: Ausgewählte Schriften zur Kunst des Mittelalters, edited by Robert Suckale, Peter Schmidt, and Gregor Wedekind, pp. 59–85. Munich: Deutscher Kunstverlag, 2003. Suckale, Robert. Die Erneuerung der Malkunst vor Dürer. Petersberg: Michael Imhof, 2009. Suger, Abbot of St. Denis. Abbot Suger on the Abbey Church of St.-Denis and its Art Treasures, edited, translated, and annotated by Erwin Panofsky. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1979. Szymczak, Katja. ‘Der Katharinenaltar von Lucas Cranach und der Humanismus’. In Nicht die Bibliothek, sondern das Auge: Westeuropäische Skulptur und Malerei an der Wende zur Neuzeit—Beiträge zu Ehren von Hartmut Krohm, edited by Tobias Kunz, pp. 146–156. Petersberg: M. Imhof, 2008. Thulin, Oskar. Cranach-Altäre der Reformation. Berlin: Evangelische Verlagsanstalt, 1955. Thürlemann, Felix. Robert Campin: A Monographic Study with Critical Catalogue. Munich: Prestel, 2002. Tripps, Johannes. ‘Studien zur Wandlung von Retabeln südlich und nördlich der Alpen’. In Zeremoniell und Raum in der frühen italienischen Malerei, edited by Stefan Weppelmann, pp. 116–127. Petersberg: Michael Imhof, 2007. Tümmers, Horst-Johs. Die Altarbilder des Älteren Bartholomäus Bruyn: Mit einem kritischen Katalog. Cologne: Greven, 1964. Urban, Regina. ‘Die weltliche Kleidung auf Gemälden des Bartholomäusmeisters’. In Genie ohne Namen: Der Meister des Bartholomäus-Altars, edited by Rainer Budde and Roland Krischel, pp. 203–212. Cologne: Wallraf-Richartz Museum, 2001. Voragine, Jacobus de. The Golden Legend: Readings on the Saints. Translated by William Granger Ryan. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1993. Vor Stefan Lochner: Die kölner Maler von 1300 bis 1430. Cologne: Wallraf-Richartz Museum, 1974. Vos, Dirk de. Hans Memling: The Complete Works. Ghent: Ludion, 1994. Vos, Dirk de. Rogier van der Weyden: The Complete Works. Antwerp: Mercatorfonds, 1999. Vos, Dirk de. The Flemish Primitives: The Masterpieces. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2002. Wartenberg, Günter. ‘Bilder in den Kirchen: Der Wittenberger Reformation’. In Die bewahrende Kraft des Luthertums: Mittelalterliche Kunstwerke in evangelischen Kirchen, edited by Johann Michael Fritz, pp. 19–33. Regensberg: Schnell & Steiner, 1997. Westfehing, Uwe. Die Messe Gregors des Grossen: Vision, Kunst, Realität. Cologne: Schnütgen Museum, 1982.

299

300 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Wiemann, Elsbeth. Altdeutsche Malerei: Staatsgalerie Stuttgart. Stuttgart: Die Staatsgalerie, 1989. Wiemann, Elsbeth. Hans Holbein d. Ä: die Graue Passion in ihrer Zeit. Stuttgart: Staatsgalerie, 2010. Wiemann, Elsbeth, ‘Zur monochromen Bildgestaltung’. In Hans Holbein d.Ä: die Graue Passion in ihrer Zeit, edited by Elsbeth Wiemann, pp. 123–145. Ostfildern: Hatje Cantz, 2010. Wiemann, Elsbeth. Hans Holbein d.Ä, die Graue Passion: Staatsgalerie Stuttgart. Stuttgart: Staatsgalerie, 2016. Wilhelmy, Winfried. Der altniederländische Realismus und seine Funktionen: Studien zur kirchlichen Bildpropaganda des 15. Jahrhunderts. Münster: Lit, 1993. Wolfson, Michael. Die deutschen und niederländischen Gemälde bis 1550: Kritischer Katalog mit Abbildungen aller Werke. Hannover: Niedersächsisches Landesmuseum Hannover, 1992. Wöllenstein, Helmut. Von Angesicht zu Angesicht: Der Wildunger Altar des Conrad von Soest. Kassel: Evangelischer Medienverband, 2003. Zehnder, Frank Günter. Katalog der altkölner Malerei: Kataloge des Wallraf-RichartzMuseums XI. Cologne: Stadt Köln, 1990. Zehnder, Frank Günter. Gotische Malerei in Köln: Altkölner Bilder von 1300 bis 1550. Cologne: Wallraf-Richartz Museum, 1993. Zupancic, Andrea. Der Berswordt-Meister und die Dortmunder Malerei um 1400: Stadtkultur im Spätmittelalter. Bielefeld: Verlag für Regionalgeschichte, 2002.

Index Altenberg Altarpiece 29, 48 Angler, Gabriel 29, 37, 101-13 Crucifixion 109-12, Fig. 2.11 High Altar, Frauenkirche, Munich 102 sources for 111-12 Tabula Magna 102-09, 141, 265, Figs. 2.6, 2.7, 2.8, 2.9, 2.10 use of grisaille 101-13 Anna Selbdritt 275-76 Apt Master University Altarpiece 117, Fig. 2.14 artistry, display of 36, 140, 141 Bad Wildungen Altarpiece see Niederwildungen Altarpiece Baldung Grien, Hans 39, 261-62 Epiphany Triptych 262 Freiburg Altarpiece 265-68, Figs. 5.4, 5.5, 5.6 Martyrdom of St. Sebastian Triptych 262-65, 270, 271 Berswordt Master 68, 70, 71 Berswordt Altarpiece (Crucifixion Altarpiece) 68-70, 72, 128-29, Figs. 1.16, 2.20 Beth, Ignaz 26 Bohemia, art of 26, 48, 50 n. 19, 54, 65, 70 n. 57 Borchert, Till-Holger 30 Bosch, Hieronymus 112 Bouts, Dieric 94-97, 99, 189, 193 Annunciation (Richmond, Virginia) 94-96, Fig. 2.3 Pearl of Brabant 97, 154-57, Figs. 2.4, 2.39 Brinkmann, Bodo 29 Bruyn the Elder, Bartholomäus 114 Coronation of the Virgin Triptych 114, Fig. 2.12 Burger, Fritz 26 Camille, Michael 219 Campin, Robert 25, 136, 176, 180, 193 Mérode Triptych 172, 174 n. 34, 176, 185 Seilern Triptych 183, 184 Throne of Mercy 136, Fig. 2.28 Carthusians 215, 244 Chapterhouse in Cologne 214, 226, 235, 239, 246 carved altarpieces see triptychs, German sculpted; triptychs, Netherlandish sculpted Chapius, Julien 26 Châtelet, Albert 178 Cistercians 111 Cleve, Joos van 114 Cologne, fifteenth-century painting 26, 27, 29, 35, 37-38, 165-204 and donor scale 184, 191-92, 198 and influence of the Columba Altarpiece’s compositions 193-97

and narrative expansion 202-04 and relations between triptych panels 192 and use of gold leaf 183, 188-91 Columba Altarpiece 37-38, 165-202, Fig. 3.1 accommodation to foreign tastes in 169-78 ambiguous relations between panels in 184-86 donor portrait in 178, 183 exterior of 178 iconographic programme of 172-78 influence of Dombild on 178-82 Netherlandish features of 182-87 original location of 168-69 patronage of 168-69 scale of 169 three-part narrative sequence in 176-78 underdrawings of 180 Conrad von Soest 26, 29, 68, 70, 75, 86 Dortmund Altarpiece 64-67, Fig. 1.13 Niederwildungen Altarpiece see Nieder­ wildungen Altarpiece Parisian influences on 70-71 self-awareness of 87-88 Sts. Dorothy and Odilia 62-64, 73, 77, Figs. 1.12, 1.13 Sts. Paul and Reinold 67, 138, Figs. 1.14, 1.15 Corley, Brigitte 26, 45, 52, 76, 212-13, 215, 230 Cranach the Elder, Lucas 39, 268 Holy Kinship Triptych 271-76, Figs. 5.9, 5.10 Martyrdom of St. Catherine Triptych 268-71, 272-73 Wittenberg Altarpiece 276-81, Figs. 5.11, 5.12 Cuttler, Charles 25 Daret, Jacques 173 Adoration of the Magi 180 Darup Altarpiece 49, 71, 73-75, 76, Fig. 1.18 Defoer, Henri 214 Dijkstra, Jeltje 179 distancing 36, 140-43 Dombild 37, Figs. 2.21, 2.22 compositions of 195-96 exterior of 129-30, 152-54, 175, 183, 187 influence on Van der Weyden 179-82 patronage of 166-67 relations between panels 187 relation of exterior and interior 152-54 size of 172 treatment of space in 183, 187, 189 underdrawings of 212 use of gold leaf in 38, 183, 187 Dürer, Albrecht 24, 29, 39, 119, 256-57 Adam and Eve 1507 paintings 259 Fall of Man 1504 print 259 Heller Altarpiece 119-20, 261, Fig. 2.15 Jabach Altarpiece 257 n. 6, 260-61

302 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

Nativity 1504 print 259 Ober St. Veit Altarpiece 261 Paumgartner Altarpiece 257-61, 262, 263, 265, 268, 269, 270, 271 Triptych of Oswolt Krel 256 n. 3, 261 n. 23 Engelbert, Arthur 51 Erhart, Michel 31, 33, 222, 248 Blaubeuren Altarpiece 33, Fig. 4.5 Faries, Molly 26 fly, trompe l’oeil 219, 221 Frederick the Wise, Elector of Saxony 261 n. 23, 269, 271, 273 Fritz, Rolf 65 Geisberg, Max 65 Genie ohne Namen 24, 213, 242 German triptychs see triptychs, German Germany, artistic regions Cologne see Cologne, fifteenth-century painting Lower Saxony see Hildesheim, Peter and Paul Altarpiece; Lüneberg, Golden Panel; Wernigerode Altarpiece Middle Rhine 48 Southern 35, 99-101; see also Angler, Gabriel; Master of the Ehningen Altarpiece; Master of the Polling Panels Westphalia 26, 27, 35, 36, 43-44, 45, 48-49, 51, 68, 71; see also Conrad von Soest; Darup Altarpiece; Isselhorst Altarpiece; Master of Schöppingen; Master of the Sassenberg Altarpiece, Netze Altarpiece; Osnabrück Altarpiece; Warendorf Altarpiece; Wormeln Altarpiece (Mary as the Throne of Solomon) Giotto di Bondone 111 Goldberg, Gisela 259 gold leaf 38, 48 and hierarchy 135 and spatial continuity 185, 187 elimination of 198 in Cologne fifteenth-century painting 183, 188-91 in Lochner 38, 130, 183, 187 in the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece 191 n. 90, 243 use on triptych interiors and not on exteriors 131, 145, 147, 148, 183 Gothic 24, 28 International 48-49, 73, 83 Göttingen Barfüßeraltar 44 High Altarpiece St. Jacobi-Kirche 29, 35, 129 grisailles absence on German triptych exteriors 37, 99-101, 113 and hierarchy 126-27, 136 and reflection on media 143 demi- 108, 109, 117, 117 n. 56, 119-20, 260, 263, 271

pictorial see monochrome, pictorial pseudo-sculptural see pseudo-sculptures reasons for use 124, 126 semi- 117, 117 n. 56 stained glass 111 see also Angler, Gabriel, use of grisaille Grötecke, Iris 28 Grünewald, Mathias 119-20, 261, Fig. 2.16 Heller Altarpiece 119-20, 261, Figs. 2.15, 2.16 Hendler, Sefy 140 Hildesheim, Peter and Paul Altarpiece 29, 37, 84-86, 131, 140, 145-48, Figs. 1.26, 2.23 Holbein the Elder, Hans 29 Grey Passion 123-26, Figs. 2.18, 2.19 St. Sebastian Altarpiece 117 Holy Cross Triptych (Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece) 226-39, 247, 248, Figs. 4.6, 4.7 exterior of 113-14, 218-19, 224, 228-30, 237-39, 245 gold leaf in 191 n. 90, 243 humour in 217-19 patronage of 226-28 references to sculpture in 222, 230-31, 235, 236 wings of 235-37, 244-45 Hours of Jan van Amerongen 214 humour 38, 215-21 Heimberg, Bruno 259 idolatry 126, 255, 256 Ill-Matched Pair 218 Isselhorst Altarpiece 49, 71, 75-77, Fig. 1.19 Italian Renaissance see Renaissance, Italy Italy, art of as an influence for German art 26, 111 violations of boundaries in 48, 65 Jakoby, Barbara 193 Joest von Kalkar, Jan 214-15 John the Constant, Duke of Saxony 273 Kemperdick, Stephan 29, 128, 140, 213 Klarenaltar 171 Koerner, Joseph 276, 278 Krieger, Michaela 218, 219, 238 Krischel, Roland 145, 187, 213-14, 217, 222 Kulenkampff, Angela 168 Kutschbach, Doris 258 Lane, Barbara 127, 202 liminality 54, 58, 59, 140-41, 178 n. 49, 237, 248 linear perspective see perspective, linear Löcher, Kurt 258 Lochner, Stefan 24, 26, 37-38, 130, 178-79, 184, 193-95, 214 Diptych of the Presentation and Nativity 173 Dombild see Dombild gold leaf in 38, 130, 183, 187

303

Index 

Last Judgement 138-39, 141, 171, 184, 186-87, 189, Figs. 2.29, 3.6 Presentation in the Temple (Darmstadt) 171 nn. 24, 25, 171-72, 173, 175, 182, 183, 196-97, Fig. 3.3 Lower Saxony see Hildesheim, Peter and Paul Altarpiece; Lüneberg, Golden Panel; Wernigerode Altarpiece Lüneberg, Golden Panel 78-83, Figs. 1.21, 1.22, 1.23, 1.24 Luther, Martin 23, 276 Lutherjahr 23-24 Massys, Quentin Holy Kinship Altarpiece 271-75, 276 Master Bertram Altarpiece from the Petrikirche, Hamburg 4951, 78, 144, Fig. 1.6 Master of Evert Zoudenbalch 214 Master of Frankfurt Holy Kinship Altarpiece 119-20, 276, Fig. 2.17 Master of Schöppingen 37 Crucifixion Altarpiece (Schöppingen Altarpiece) 86-87, Fig. 1.27 Haldern Altarpiece 37, 77, 139, 148-52, Figs. 1.20, 2.35 Master of St. Veronica 37, 78 Virgin with the Sweet Pea Blossom Triptych 37, 145, Figs. 2.31, 2.32 Master of the Aachen Life of Mary Life of Mary Altarpiece (Aachen) 197 Master of the Cadolzburg Altar Koler Altarpiece 258, 259 Master of the Ehningen Altarpiece Resurrection Triptych 93-99, 112-13, 132, 141-42, 154-57, Figs. 2.1, 2.2 Master of the Holy Kinship the Elder Holy Kinship Altarpiece 175, 183, 185, 186, 272, Fig. 3.4 Master of the Holy Kinship the Younger 249 Barbara and Dorothy Triptych 191 Holy Kinship Altarpiece 191, 192, 198, 272, Fig. 3.10 Sebastian Altarpiece 188, 189-90, 204 n. 114 Seven Joys of Mary Altarpiece 171 n. 25, 175, 196, Fig. 3.14 Virgin of the Apocalypse (Neuenahr Triptych) 190-91 Master of the Kirchsahr Altarpiece 37 Crucifixion Triptych 37, 148, 183, 185, 189, Figs. 2.33, 2.34 Kirchsahr Altarpiece 44, 171, 177, 178, 183, 184, 186, Fig. 3.2 Master of the Life of Mary Adoration of the Magi Triptych 195-96, Fig. 3.13 De Monte Lamentation Triptych 131, 188, 189, 191, Fig. 2.25 Life of the Virgin Altarpiece 188 Passion Altarpiece of Kues 188-89, Fig. 3.17

Master of the Legend of St. George Apostle Altarpiece 193, Fig. 3.11 Crucifixion Triptych 198 De Monte Lamentation Triptych 131, 188, 189, 191, 193, Figs. 2.24, 2.25 St. George Altarpiece 131, 190, 191, Figs. 2.26, 2.27 Master of the Lyversberg Passion Arrest of Christ 198, Fig. 3.16 Epiphany (Nuremberg) 195 Mary Altarpiece (Linz) 188, 191, 195, 196-97, Fig. 3.12 Master of the Munich Arrest of Christ Arrest of Christ 197-98, 238, Fig. 3.15 Resurrection 197-98, 238, Fig. 3.17 Master of the Parement de Narbonne 70 Master of the Passionsfolgen Life and Passion of Christ 204, Fig. 3.19 Master of the Polling Panels Annunciation 101, 141, 143, Fig. 2.5 Master of the Sassenberg Altarpiece Sassenberg Altarpiece 77 Master of the Small Passion 175 Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece 35, 38 anonymity of 24, 29 Baptism of Christ 21, 215-17, 219, 243, Fig. 4.3 Deposition (London) 215, 220-21, 233-34, Fig. 4.2 Deposition (Paris) 233, Fig. 4.10 eroticism in 218, 221 grisaille in 222-25, 237-39 Holy Cross Triptych see Holy Cross Triptych (Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece) Hours of Sophia van Bylant 212, 213 humour in 38, 215-21 Mass of St. Gregory 209-12, 233, Fig. 4.1 Mystic Marriage of St. Agnes 219, Fig. 4.4 Nativity Triptych 191, 191 n. 90 origins of 212-15 play with media in 259 pseudo-sculptural grisailles in 38, 113-14, 246 sculptural effects in 221-25, 259 St. Bartholomew Triptych 219, 222, 246-49, Fig. 4.13 Sts. Andrew and Columba (Mainz panel) 212, 213, 248-29, Fig. 4.15 Sts. Peter and Dorothy (London panel) 212, 248-49, Fig. 4.14 St. Thomas Triptych see St. Thomas Triptych (Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece) training of 212-15 underdrawings of 212, 213-14 Master of the St. Godelieve Legend Life and Miracles of St. Godelieve 203 Master Theodoric Holy Cross Chapel, Karlštejn 54 Maximilian, Holy Roman Emperor 273, 275 Medialität 256, 257, 268, 279 and layering of views 279 and the play between media 157, 225, 238, 260 and the transgressions of frames 51, 77, 87

304 

The Painted Tript ychs of Fifteenth- Century Germany

and transparency 157, 239, 246, 260 and triptych wings 275, 276 definition of 30-31 in sculpted triptychs 31-35 in sixteenth-century triptychs 39, 256, 257, 268, 275, 276, 279 Melk Reform see reform, Melk Memling, Hans 108, 202-04 Jan Crabbe Triptych 108 Passion Triptych (Greverade Triptych) 202-04, Fig. 3.19 Mérode Triptych 172, 174 n. 34, 176, 185 methodology 30-31 Middle Ages 24, 256 Middle Rhine, art of 48 Mittelalterliche Retabel in Hessen 30 Möhle, Valerie 35, 145 Möhring, Helmut 29, 102 monochrome, pictorial as typical of German grisailles 37, 108-09, 112, 114, 120 in Angler 37, 109-11, 112 in Bosch 112 in Bruyn 114 in Grünewald 119-20 in Holbein 123 on triptych interiors 106-08, 109, 123-24 Moser, Lucas 32-33, 144 St. Magdalene Altarpiece 32-34, Figs. 0.1, 0.2 Multscher, Hans Sterzinger Altarpiece 259-60 narratives 139, 149-51, 202-04 Nazis, 27-28, 29 Netherlandish triptychs, see Bouts, Dieric; Campin, Robert; Memling, Hans; Van der Weyden, Rogier; Van Eyck, Jan Netherlands, Northern 38, 112, 113, 212-15 Netze Altarpiece 44, 45, 68, 86, Fig. 1.3 Nicholas of Verdun Reliquary of the Three Kings 172 Niederwildungen Altarpiece 29, 33, 88, 138, Figs. 1.1, 1.4, 1.7, 1.8, 1.9, 1.10, 1.11 central panel of 54-59 compared to Lower Saxon altarpieces 78, 83, 86-87 compared to other Conrad von Soest paint­ ings 62, 65, 67, 73 compared to other Westphalian altarpieces 74, 86 division of interior of 35-36, 43-44 exterior of 59-61, 129, 136-38 left wing of 52-54 narrative sequence of 52 painted frames in 45-46 pastiglia in 36, 46-48, 58-59, 73 right wing of 59 see also Bohemia, art of; Italy, art of, violations of boundaries in Noble, Bonnie 278

Norfolk Triptych 44 n. 5, 88, 151, Fig. 1.28 Northern Netherlands see Netherlands, Northern Notke, Bernt 31 Osnabrück Altarpiece 44, 45, 68, 86, Fig. 1.2 Packeiser, Thomas 277 Pacher, Michael 25, 31 Fathers of the Church Altarpiece 231-32, Fig. 4.9 Panofsky, Erwin 24-25, 258, 259 paragone 140 pastiglia 36, 46-48, 52, 58-59, 73 perspective, linear 255-56, 258, 272 Peter and Paul Altarpiece see Hildesheim Pieper, Paul 27 Pilz, Wolfgang 44 Pliny the Elder 219 portraits 168, 178, 180, 256, 269, 273 Preimesberger, Rudolf 140 prints 26, 256, 259 Prinz, Felix 29, 222 pseudo-sculptures 144 in Bouts 97, 108, 108 n. 27, 110-11 in Bruyn 114 in Campin 136, 152 n. 123 in Cranach 276 in German art 112, 115-17 in Netherlandish art 36-37, 103, 140, 141, 143, 157 in sixteenth-century German and Netherlandish art 158, 247, 273 in the Master of Frankfurt 276 in the Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece 38, 113-14, 246 in Van der Weyden 239 In Van Eyck 152 n. 123, 239 invention of 152 n. 123 Pucelle, Jean 70, 111 punchwork 48, 50, 65 Rawlings, Kandice 219 reform, Melk 112 Reformation 23-24, 39, 255-56, 268, 270 altarpieces 39, 276 scholarly interest in 24 Renaissance, Italy 24, 39, 140, 255, 256, 271, 275 Riemenschneider, Tilman 31 Rimmele, Marius 229 Rode, Hermen 115 Crucifixion and the Death of the Virgin Diptych 115-17, 119, Fig. 2.13 Schawe, Martin 259 Schmid, Wolfgang 168 Schmitz, Hermann 26 Schulz, Anne Markham 168 sculpted triptychs see triptychs, German, sculpted; and triptychs, Netherlandish, sculpted self-awareness 255, 263 n. 30 about medium 221, 222, 225, 238, 248

305

Index 

and humour 221 artistic 87, 143 self-portraits 87, 263 silbergelb 111-12 Sluter, Claus Well of Moses 224 Snyder, James 25 Southern Germany see Germany, artistic regions, Southern stained glass, see windows, stained glass Stange, Alfred 26-27, 28 Deutsche Malerei der Gotik 26-27, 28 Steinbart, Kurt 51 Stoss, Veit 31 St. Thomas Triptych (Master of the St. Bartholomew Altarpiece) 239-46, 247, 248, Figs. 4.11, 4.12 exterior of 113-14, 222, 225, 245-46 gold leaf in 191 n. 90 patronage of 239 references to sculpture in 240-42, 243 wings of 244-45 Suckale, Robert 29 Szymczak, Katja 271 transparency 37, 144-158, 246, 260, 263, 267, 268, 271, 280 triptychs, German fifteenth-century painted as derivative from Netherlandish art 25, 30, 38, 202 as independent of Netherlandish art 25, 30, 35, 37, 103, 106-07, 112, 123-25, 167 as influenced by Netherlandish art 93-99, 114, 152, 167, 187-202 historiography of 25-30 with coloured exteriors; 36, 37, 99-101, 151 with grisaille exteriors 113-14, 117-26, 218-19, 222, 224, 225, 228-30, 237-39, 245-46 with reduced coloured exteriors 128-30, 143 triptychs, German sculpted 31-35, 129, 144, 169, 259

triptychs, Netherlandish painted see Bouts, Dieric; Campin, Robert; Memling, Hans; Van der Weyden, Rogier; Van Eyck, Jan triptychs, Netherlandish sculpted 101, 143-44, 169, 172-73, 177, 203 n. 111, 261 n. 24 Van der Goes, Hugo Portinari Altarpiece 141-43, 202, Fig. 2.30 Van der Weyden, Rogier 25, 37-38, 166, 178-79, 202, 239 Beaune Altarpiece 169-70 Bladelin Triptych 170, 172, 177 Columba Altarpiece see Columba Altarpiece Deposition 189, 228, Fig. 4.8 Miraflores Triptych 176 St. John Triptych 176 Van Eyck, Jan 25, 87, 140, 143, 152, 176, 193, 239, 275 Annunciation 175-76 Dresden Triptych 136, 154, 172, 176, 185, Figs. 2.37, 2.38 Ghent Altarpiece 87, 152, 238, Fig. 2.36 Lomellini Triptych 172 Maelbeke Triptych 172 Van Eyck to Dürer Early Netherlandish Painting and Central Europe 1430-1530 Vos, Dirk de 180, 202 Warendorf Altarpiece 49, 71-73, 74, 75, 76, 86, Fig. 1.17 Wasservass Crucifixion 184 Weniger, Matthias 183 Werl Triptych 166 Wernigerode Altarpiece 83-84, Fig. 1.25 Westphalia see Germany, artistic regions windows, stained glass 111-12 Wormelm Altarpiece (Mary as the Throne of Solomon) 48-49, 68, Fig. 1.5 Zehnder, Frank Günter 29