Anna Eörsi

“…There is one among you whom you do not recognise”

 Some golden threads to Miklós Boskovits with reference to Duccio’s Saint John the Baptist

 

 

In the 96th issue of the Bulletin, Victor M. Schmidt with three categorical and a less definite argument refuted Miklós Boskovits’s theory that the painting under inv. no. 6. in the Museum of Fine Arts Budapest once belonged to the predella of Duccio’s Maestà (fig. 1).[1] “First, the red colour of Christ’s garment is too dark. Throughout the Maestà, Christ wears a bright red tunic... Second, Christ’s blue mantle is covered with golden striations. In the Maestà, this feature only occurs in the Transfiguration (London, National Gallery) and in the post-Resurrection scenes, so as to indicate Christ’s glorified state. Third, Christ’s halo and the shape of the Cross in it have painted contours, whereas all the halos in the Maestà have incised decorations. […] Finally, it would seem doubtful whether the scene of the Baptist Bearing Witness was represented in the Maestà’s predella at all.”[2]

The latest technical examination ascertained that from the original state of the picture only the coat of paint has remained; some parts of it are heavily repainted, others are in a better state of preservation.[3] The colours have endarkened, the mordent gilding on Christ’s robe is original. The halos were overpainted in the nineteenth century. Considering the fact that the painting lost not only its wooden support, but also its original canvas and stucco ground, we cannot rule out the possibility that the halos were originally incised.

In my opinion from among Schmidt’s counter-arguments – supporting his theory that the Budapest panel never belonged to the Maestà – his remarks on the golden striations and the theme of the painting cannot be justified, moreover, the golden ornament on Christ’s robe definitely places the depiction in proximity to the Maestà.

 

I. Golden striations (chrysography)

 

Chrysography is a characteristic technique of decoration with gold in Byzantine manuscript illumination, icon- and wall-painting.[4] In the abstracted web of the golden lines, the difference between illumination and glitter disappeared; the two together became the sign of divine radiance.[5] Throughout the thirteenth century in Italy, chrysography gradually lost its abstractness; in the hands of the most eminent painters it started to adjust to the structure of folds and the body.[6] In this process, Duccio (1278–1318/9), who handled the golden striations quite flexibly as one of the elements of the other naturalistic innovations of his style, played a decisive role. In his art, the former hard, stiff lines unambiguously follow the fall of the clothing; besides, they lend liveliness to the folds of the drapery.[7] All this has long been known; yet, in the literature, much less attention has been paid to the fact that the Sienese master not only incorporated chrysography into the linear structure of his style, but also invested it with a specific meaning.[8] And this is also an important aspect of the masterly handling of colour and light. It means that in Duccio’s art, the different qualities of light, the symbolical and that related to reality, began to separate.[9] As with grisaille,[10] also in the case of the golden striations, the process of stylistic refinement also produced an iconographical benefit.

Duccio is the first who, in this particular case, also in view of chrysography, differentiates between overgarments and undergarments, and with the golden lines consistently refers to the appearance of divine glory and to the divinified state itself.

 

Only the red robe, and not the cloak of the Virgin, is decorated with golden striations on the front side of the Maestà and namely in the Annunciation and in the scenes of the crowning section recalling the end of the Virgin’s life (fig. 2).[11] (In the scenes of her infancy, she wears the same clothing, but without the golden lines). On this Mariological side of the altarpiece the adult Christ appears only once, in the scene of the Dormition of the Virgin: the resurrected, glorified Redeemer holds his mother’s soul enveloped in a robe and a cloak shining with gold.

 

In the Passion-scenes on the reverse side, Duccio does not employ chrysography (fig. 3). From among the extant panels of the predella, it is only the Transfiguration in which Christ wears his red robe and blue cloak of divinity radiating with light. With a sole exception[12], he is dressed in a similar way in all the post-Resurrection scenes. On this Christological side of the altarpiece, the Virgin’s figure is distinguished with chrysography only on a single occasion, in the scene of the Pentecost. This time not only her robe, but also her cloak is decorated with golden lines.

 

II. The subject matter of the Budapest painting

 

Up till now, with the exception of Pigler and Stubblebine, no one has precisely defined the subject matter of the work.[13] It is not at all surprising, since in the literature dealing with St John the Baptist, sufficient attention has not been paid to this moment in the life of St John and Christ. We can see the event of bearing witness during the preaching, but which one?

 

In the Synoptic Gospels, less mention is made of it,[14] while John amply and diversely relates that: “A man named John was sent from God. He came for testimony, to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him.”[15] John, right after the declaration of Incarnation, and over the following three days, repeatedly bears testimony of Christ; he describes the Baptism itself in this form, and later on, when Christ with his disciples goes to the land of Judea to baptize, he repeats his testimony.[16]

 

In the related art historical literature, the topic and the relationship of the preaching and testimonies are not clear. As regards the latter, only two or three occasions are usually alluded to.[17] All this is justified, in so far as the paintings are mostly not literal illustrations of the texts. But only for the most part. As in the case of other themes, the relationship of the also depictions to the related passages of the Gospels is intricate, changing from case to case.

It may happen that artists illustrate a text word for word, and also that similar compositions accompany different passages of the Bible.[18] Quite frequently, the chosen iconographical type lives an autonomous life, and it cannot be related to a given passage, nor even to the inscription on it.[19] The titles, rendered by posterity, are often misleading.[20]

From among the standard iconographical manuals, it is only Pigler who, with reference to the theme, stresses John 1:26: “but there is one among you whom you do not recognise”.[21] In my opinion, the paintings with the theme of the Testimony of St John comprise a hitherto neglected, well-definable group, which can be derived from this passage. The essence of the iconographical type is that the Logos is present in the midst of John’s audience, visible only for the Forerunner. This time, the Baptist does not identify the Agnus Dei, but announces that the Messiah is still invisible, but has already arrived.

 

The rendering of this specific moment of the preaching and bearing testimony probably evolved in tenth- to eleventh-century Byzantine manuscript illumination. Stubblebine refers to the Gospels of the Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris, grec 74, as the antecedent of the examples presented by him, which is, in my opinion, only partially justified.[22] On the recto of fol. 168, John preaches and bears testimony to the Pharisees and Levites interrogating him; furthermore, he answers their questions.[23] His audience is a compact group without the Redeemer. On the verso of fol. 168, Christ approaches accompanied by his followers, and to the right, John baptizes a Jew (fig. 4).[24] On the same page, the illustration of another testimony is shown,[25] which is followed on the recto of fol. 169 by the Baptism. The group with the Redeemer in the focus in the first scene of the verso of fol. 168 seems to be the result of a double contamination: the rendition may have evolved partly from the figure of Christ, the “one among you whom you do not recognise”, appearing among priests and Levites, and partly from his figure accompanied by his followers.[26]

 

Stubblebine pointed out that the immediate antecedents of the iconography of the Budapest painting are to be found in Byzantine monumental painting.[27] On the southern wall of the central nave of the Protaton Church on Mount Athos, the discussed Testimony-scene is shown preceding the Baptism: John, from the bank of a river, points to the other side, where, amidst the populous crowd of Pharisees and Levites, unseen by them, emerges the nearly frontal figure of the Saviour, who gazes at the viewer (fig. 5).[28] Above the scene, John 1:26-27 is legible: “I baptise with water; but there is one among you whom you do not recognise, the one who is coming after me, whose sandal strap I am not worthy to untie.” The same iconographical type appears in the apse of the southern transept of the Monastery of Chilandar; here, to the left of the Baptism, the Baptist and the delegation from Jerusalem opposite him, with the frontal figure of Christ in the centre, stand on the same bank of the river (fig. 6).[29] On the banderole of the Baptist, the condensed text of John 1:26 can be read. Underwood, on the basis of the fresco of the Protaton Church, reconstructs a similar rendition on the first vault of the exonarthex of the Chora Church (Kariye Djami), Istanbul.[30]

 

The first extant Western example of the iconographical type is the painting of the Museum of Fine Arts Budapest discussed here. Unlike the mentioned examples, this is a symmetrical composition. John is flanked by his listeners, this time with more people seated than standing, yet, the correspondence is quite obvious: in the midst of the group of the Pharisees and priests listening to John emerges Christ; he is among them, but they do not perceive it yet. The Logos, retaining its frontal posture, looks towards John, raises his right hand in blessing, and holds a book in his left. The work is richer in emotion, and more substantive than its Eastern antecedents in so far as besides its primary theme of the preaching, the painter also expresses the intimate, yet for the time being, secret communication between Christ and John. The Forerunner – like a great actor in a double role – simultaneously addresses his listeners and the Redeemer. As opposed to the Byzantine examples, his audience does not look hostile: the Jews listen to his words in devotion, as can be read in the nearly contemporaneous biography of the Baptist by Domenico Cavalca.[31]

 

Masolino’s fresco of around 1435 on the eastern wall of the chapel of Castiglione d’Olona follows the same iconographical type, yet can be related to another passage (fig. 7).[32] This time, the inscription on the Baptist’s banderole reads: “Ecce agnus dei ecce qui tollit peccata mundi/hic est de quo dixi. postmevent”,[33] and the Forerunner here already preaches to the followers of Christ, who do not seem to notice the figure of the Saviour emerging from among them. In this case, the rendition is also at least as much about the still hidden relationship between John and Christ as about the preaching itself.[34]

 

Further renditions follow other iconographical types, but illustrate the passage “but there is one among you whom you do not recognise” (John 1:26). One such example is the scene on the southern gate of the western façade of the Auxerre Cathedral (fig. 8).[35] In the first rendition of the central zone of the pediment, preceding the Baptism, St John preaches to people partly seated and partly standing. One of the seated listeners can be identified with Christ on the basis of his crossed nimbus.

On a bas de page of a Southern German antiphonary from the end of the fifteenth century originating from a Poor Clare cloister, the Baptist preaches to elegant ladies settled on the edge of a forest, who are unaware that Christ is also present in their company (fig. 9).[36]

In Pieter Bruegel the Elder’s (1525/30–1569) painting in the Museum of Fine Arts, Budapest, Christ stands at the edge of the crowd, behind St John; the gesture of the Forerunner’s outstretched left arm is understood only by him and the viewer, and not by the audience.[37]

 

III. “whom you do not recognise”

 

The cited passage – “but there is one among you whom you do not recognise” – refers to the fact that the Messiah has already arrived; presently it is only the Forerunner who can see him, but he will soon reveal Himself to everyone. It is understandable that, with reference to the passage, the commentaries usually discuss the double nature. Origen: “Christ is so superior that although He is invisible due to His divinity, He is present for everyone and He is part of the whole world, which He discloses with the following words: ‘but there is one among you whom you do not recognise’” [38] St Gregory the Great: “With this and other mysteries, our Saviour lets out His secret, declaring that He stood among the people who were unaware of it. The Lord appeared in human form: He came as God in body, in His invisible majesty.”[39] Paschasius Radbertus: “And John relates: but there is one among you whom you do not recognise. And if He is always present for everyone, how can parables say that He leaves or wanders? Unless for the reason that […] He is not encircled by a body, but He is complete everywhere and He is omnipresent.”[40] Rupert von Deutz: “‘there stands One among you who, coming after me, is preferred before me for He was before me’ […] that in body the Lord came to this world after John, is doubtless to everyone. Since his […] birth […] preceded that of the Lord with six months. So what John tells about him that he ‘was before me’cannot refer to the incarnation of the Logos […].”[41] Ludolphus de Saxonia: “ […] is one among you, i.e., the one of whom I prophesy is present among you, who is a mediator between God and the humans, whom you do not recognise […]. These words can be explained partly on the basis of the human character of Christ, namely that he actually lived among the Jews, that he mingled with humans as if being from among them, and it was not recognised that the one who was believed to come is already present. Or it can be explained on the basis of Christ’s divinity, that he is omnipresent and invisible. And according to this, he is there among all created things, yet no one knows about it, since no one notices him.”[42] Subsequently, in John 1:26-27, Luther sees a reference to Christ’s divinity, while Melanchton to his humanity.[43]

 

IV. The Budapest painting and the Maestà

 

In my opinion, the essence of the painting’s iconography is not that “St John the Baptist bears testimony”, but the content of this testimony, the fact that the Messiah is still hiding, although he has come. The golden lines on Christ’s robe signify the latter, the arrival, the epiphany of the divine nature. And this theme and the way Duccio treated it fits into the first place of the back predella of the Maestà – where Miklós Boskovits imaginarily placed it – at least as much as its rivals in the literature, The Baptism or The First Temptation.[44]

 

In this place, it would be a proper introduction to the series about Christ’s public life and not only from chronological aspects. As Christoph Wagner pointed out, an important theme of the back predella is the transition from blindness to sight, from darkness to light, the process during which Jesus, not recognised by the Jews and the Pharisees, finally manifests himself in resplendent glory.[45] This is expressed by the two successive scenes of the Healing of the Blind and the Transfiguration: the man born blind casts the first glance of his eye on the Christ of the Transfiguration, whose robe, this time, is exceptionally not radiating with white but with gold.

From among the post-Resurrection scenes, only the last depiction of the central panel, representing Christ in the company of the disciples at Emmaus, shows him without his robe radiating with gold. This time he happens to wear the camelhair tunic of the Baptist. With this exception, the painter may refer to the incognito of the Saviour, to the fact that the disciples’ “…eyes were prevented from recognising him.”[46] As in the Budapest painting the Messiah reveals himself to John for a short time in advance, not yet publicly, here – at a later date, but  also temporarily and also in a secret way –  he hides his divine essence. In both cases, the painter expresses this with the device of the golden striations.

 

Finally, the Budapest painting also would fit vertically into the back of the altarpiece, above, with the Resurrected appearing through the locked door, his robe and body shining with gold.

As regards the potential relationship of the Budapest panel with the front side of the Maestà: as a painting representing the outset of the Mission, the first appearance of the adult Saviour, it would perfectly correspond to the Annunciation, the first scene on the front predella.[47] In both cases, golden striations symbolise the divine nature appearing in the given moment. Moreover, the iconography of the painting would be an adequate continuation of the last scene of the infancy on the front side, which shows the twelve-year-old Christ in the moment before his self-revelation.[48]

 

Finally, in one of the Passion-scenes, Duccio, although with a different sign similarly plays with presence and hiddenness, visibility and invisibility as in the panel of the Museum of Fine Arts, Budapest. In the scene of the Washing of the Feet, apparently eleven but actually twelve disciples are present. The head of Judas not wearing a halo, seen from the back, is hardly discernible (fig. 10). It can also be told about him – mutatis mutandis – that “there is one among you whom you do not recognise.”

Miklós Boskovits backed up his theory that the painting belonged to the Maestà with stylistic arguments.[49] The physical state of the picture does not rule out, and the iconographical analysis definitely corroborates his supposition. With all probability the painting in the Museum of Fine Arts, Budapest, originally belonged to the predella of Duccio’s Maestà.