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Workshop of Tilman Heysacker, 'The Dormition', later 15th century

 


Cut down from its original altarpiece format, the Dormition by German sculptor Tilman Heysacker suddenly becomes an intimate devotional panel. Expertly revealed to the viewer through the emphatic sweep of the heavy curtain on the left-hand size of the panel, we are invited into this special, intimate scene of mourning, emotion and pain. Sculpted from oak and once painted, today the colour has faded away, leaving us with a monochrome depiction of the Virgin’s death where all attention is on the figures, the use of relief and the sculpted precision by the artist’s hand.

Heysacker guides the viewer’s eye to the central, devotional focal point of the relief through the circular disposition of figures. Careful to maintain their devotional distance from the viewer, the Apostles kneel and stand on opposite sides of the Virgin, who lies gracefully across the horizontal axis of the panel, evoking tomb effigies that would have likely populated the church this altarpiece stood within. Each Apostle is individualised through their grief, allowing the viewer to connect to the piece on multiple emotional levels. For instance, the Apostle nearest to the revealing curtain kneels and prays beside the head of the Virgin, his angular, heavy draperies drawing attention to his raised hands. Heysacker has taken great care in every human depiction, even down to the details of the wrinkled, soles of the Apostle’s feet as he kneels, which produce a visual dialogue with the folds of his cloak. Meanwhile, the man next to him wipes his face with the back of his hand, an entirely human gesture that for a moment, brings the piece away from the realm of the divine. Wiping away tears, his eyes are barely open, the grief seemingly weighing even his eyelids down. This is reflected in the heaviness of his hand gesture. He thumbs through the Bible carelessly and it almost slips off his lap into the viewer’s realm, again another tantalising, devotional connection.

The overt grief of the Apostles is contrasted with the serenity of the Virgin. Even in death she is a figure of humility and contemplation, her hands crossed across her lap. The artist has set up a deliberate visual connection between the Virgin and Saint Peter who conducts the ceremony. Whereas the Virgin’s body is gracefully positioned, her eyes closed and mouth firmly set, the figure of Saint Peter leans precariously forward, his eyes again reflecting that heaviness of emotion, holding the Bible with shaky hands. His mouth is open as he utters the words of the ceremony, eyebrows drawn upwards to show his grief. Other figures in the scene are equally active, including the Apostle who sprinkles holy water or another by the foot of the bed, who perfumes the room with incense, blowing it towards the Virgin. Although this is a scene of grief and death, it is an active and sensory work too. There is spoken word, the smell of the incense, action, gesture and movement all juxtaposed with the unmoving Virgin. This is particularly effective now that the panel is isolated, as there is no Ascension or Birth of the Virgin, no sense of the Virgin as an active, lively force. Heysacker has expertly juxtaposed vita activa and vita contemplativa for a heightened emotional impact in his carefully carved oak panel.

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