Skip to main content

Unknown Master, 'Saint George Codex', c.1325-30

 


Within this complex, extensively illustrated liturgical book, one finds an image of Cardinal Jacopo Stefaneschi. The viewer uncovers him seated at the oblique angle of his desk, virtually falling out of his designated 'frame' as he leans over, hard at work completing the hymns that he wrote into this very missal. This volume is a form of meta-painting - Cardinal Stefaneschi contributed to its contents and the viewer sees him portrayed in pictorial form in that very act, a picture within a picture. 

The general skills required for manuscript illumination were highly diverse. Stefaneschi is situated within the letter 'E', its blue form with gold, foliated details offering a barrier to prevent the Cardinal's descent out of the picture plane towards the reader. A decorative border frames the general text, pierced by the galero of Stefaneschi, his red Cardinal's hat, hovering at the top of the page over his hunched form. It implies the viewer has disturbed him at a private moment, not wearing his formal clothing in a studiolo setting. Stefaneschi's coat of arms also sit at the base of this page, highlighting not only that the codex was his commission, but showing the increasing use of heraldry as a statement of power into the 1300s. From the lettering, scholars have identified a conflation of Italian and French Gothic types, situating its production in Avignon. Stefaneschi was present there from 1307 until his death in 1341 so only a large date frame can be applied to the volume. Most importantly, it was intended for the basilica of Old Saint Peter's. This has implications for other commissions in that very space. 

Attribution was traditional given to Giotto, from his work known as the Stefaneschi altarpiece for Old Saint Peter's. On this panel, the Cardinal appears twice - he presents himself to Christ in a simple, purple habit and he also gifts the altarpiece itself to Saint Peter, again a form of meta-painting. It is possible that these two works, the altarpiece and the manuscript, were in the same location at some point. Their comparison leads to a discussion of portraiture in the 1300s. The use of the term 'portrait' needs to be contested - the protagonist, in this case Cardinal Stefaneschi, was not posing or sitting as one would for a traditional portrait. It is more useful to use the term 'likeness'. There are vague similarities between altarpiece and parchment, including Stefaneschi's receding hairline and pointed, angular features. Yet fundamentally Stefaneschi is much older in the manuscript, graying and wrinkled, and with only a side-on view of his face in the altarpiece it makes comparison difficult. As Laura Jacobus describes, portraits are now understood as 'constructions' and during this period 'true likeness seldom took priority'. 

If it was not Giotto, is there another possible author? Into the twentieth century, it was argued that the volume's illuminator was in fact Giacomo de Nicola, an artist born and trained in Siena before he moved to Avignon to pick up these commissions. Siena now emerges as a leading centre of artistic practice in the Trecento. So often art history focuses on Florence, yet it is Siena where some of the most impressive 'super-icons' of the day were produced - Duccio's Maesta - as well as important civic monuments, including the Palazzo Pubblico decorated by Simone Martini and Ambrogio Lorenzetti. Siena was also an important centre for the 'minor' arts and especially known for its goldsmiths, most famously Guccio di Mannaia. An exploration of the Saint George Codex does not just lead to an appreciation of manuscript illumination, a discussion of the patron Stefaneschi or even the potentiality of portraiture in the Trecento, but it leads to wider considerations on the decentring of the early Renaissance. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Nicola Pisano, 'Adoration of the Magi', Pisa Baptistery Pulpit Panel

  In this complex, lively, exciting pulpit panel the eye looks up towards the monumentality of the Virgin, who commands this scene. She is massive and powerful, the largest figure with thick swathes of drapery delineating her forcefully protruding knees out into the viewer's space. Seated but still retaining dominance, she defines the classicising style of Nicola Pisano, witnessed throughout the panels of his pulpit in Pisa. Many writers have described the style - Eloise Angiola for instance, refers to the 'sophisticated understanding of classical prototypes to create heroic human forms' in Nicola's pulpit. Certainly in Pisa the prominent debris from the classical past remained visible and Nicola easily had access to various ancient sarcophagi for direct emulation here. The Virgin's features with her serene expression and curled hair beneath the mantle are in fact quite androgenous. She quickly assumes the position of a monumental Roman Emperor or Senator commanding

Marianne von Werekin, 'Sunrise', 1920

  An endless line of men that tug the rope of a small boat soon disappear into murky, burning red waters beyond. Colour is fantastical, mystical and otherworldly, producing an atmosphere far from reality. This is the Symbolist work of Marianne von Werefkin, part of the German Expressionists that worked in Munich from the 1910s. A movement so often dominated by the male names of the time – Kandinsky especially – Werefkin was a vital participant, expanding the range of art produced and displayed, complementing her work with art theory and written sources, as well as creating her own Salon upon her arrival in Munich. It is easy to get lost in biography with a piece such as this. Wasted, human potential seems to be at the heart of this work, signalled by the endless line of men pushing forward towards the edge of the picture plane. There is a sense of struggle and a universality to the suffering through the portrayal of faceless men in similar blue tones. Looking at the date produced of 19

Mark Rothko, 'Light Red over Black', 1957

  My eye is not drawn to the painting itself but the title of the painting, 'Light Red Over Black'. We would automatically think that the black is on top of a red background, but Rothko has flipped this around, subverting the title just like he subverting the meaning of what it was to be an artist and what Art actually was. During this time, art was going through rapid changes, with abstract expressionism coming into full force (Rothko, Pollock). But Rothko showed that all this change was for the good, even if for him, it was short lived.  The colour red in this painting is searing and the black struggles to fully cover this velvety border, especially at the bottom of the canvas. Unlike the black squares which have a hazy quality to their edges, the red is clear and impregnable. It is hard to figure out what this represents - the Tate has suggested a window perhaps, but if it is a window then what are we looking out into? Perhaps it is night, or perhaps the viewer is catching a