Art History Final

GISLEBERTUS, The Last Judgment, St. Lazare, 1130, Romanesque

A different sculptural style and another subject appear at Autun on the portal of the church of Saint-Lazare (see "Closer Look" on page 496), which was built in the first half of the twelfth century as part of a cathedral complex to house the relics of St. Lazarus, becoming the cathedral of Autun itself only in 1195. The tympanum portrays the Last Judgment, in which Christ—enclosed in a mandorla held by two svelte angels—has returned at the end of time to judge the cowering, naked humans whose bodies rise from their sarcophagi along the lintel at his feet. The damned writhe in torment at Christ's left (our right), while on the opposite side the saved savor serene bliss. The inscribed message on the side of the damned reads: "Here let fear strike those whom earthly error binds, for their fate is shown by the horror of these figures," and under the blessed: "Thus shall rise again everyone who does not lead an impious life, and endless light of day shall shine for him" (translations from Grivot and Zarnecki).

Apse

A recess, usually semicircular, in the wall of a Roman basilica or at the east end of a church.

Annunciation and Visitation, Reims Cathedral, 1230-1255, French High Gothic

Annunciation (left pair: Mary [right] c. 1240, angel [left] c. 1250) and Visitation (right pair: Mary [left] and Elizabeth [right] c. 1230). s. Four figures from the right jamb of the CENTRAL PORTAL illustrate this rich stylistic diversity (FIG. 17-14). The pair on the right portrays the Visitation, in which Mary (left), pregnant with Jesus, visits her older cousin, Elizabeth (right), pregnant with St. John the Baptist. The sculptor of these figures, active in Reims about 1230-1235, drew heavily on ancient sources. Reims had been a major Roman city, and there were remaining Roman works atthe disposal of medieval sculptors. The bulky bodies show the same solidity seen in Roman sculpture (SEE FIG. 6-15), and the women's full faces, wavy hair, and heavy mantles recall imperial portrait statuary, including the two imperial facial ideals of unblemished youth (Mary) and aged accomplishment (Elizabeth) (SEE FIGS. 6-39, 6-40). The figures shift their weight to one leg in contrapposto as they turn toward each other in conversation. The pair to the left of the Visitation enacts the Annunciation, in which the archangel Gabriel announces to Mary that she will bear Jesus. This Mary's slight body, broad planes of simple drapery, restrained gesture, inward focus, and delicate features contrast markedly with the bold tangibility of the Mary in the Visitation next to her. She is clearly the work of a second sculptor. The archangel Gabriel (at the far left) represents a third artist, active at the middle of the century. This sculptor created tall, gracefully swaying figures with small, fine-featured heads, whose expressions, hairdos, and mannered poses of aristocratic refinement grew to characterize the figural arts in later Gothic sculpture and painting. These characteristics became the basis for what is called the International Gothic Style, fashionable across Europe well into the fifteenth century.

Terracotta Soldiers, 210 BCE, China, Qin Dynasty

As long as anyone could remember, the huge mound in Shaanxi Province in northern China had been just part of the landscape. But one day in 1974, peasants digging a well accidentally brought to light the first hint of riches. When archaeologists began to excavate, they were stunned by what they found: a vast underground army of some 8,000 life-size terra-cotta soldiers with 100 life-size ceramic horses standing in military formation and ready for battle. From the mausoleum of Emperor Shihuangdi, Lintong, Shaanxi. Qin dynasty, c. 210 bce. Earthenware, life-size.

Shiva as Lord of the Dance, 12th century, Chola Dynasty

Bronzes of the Chola period such as Shiva as Lord of the Dance (Nataraja) arose out of a need to transmute the divine into a physical embodiment of beauty

Pueblo Bonito, Chaco Canyon, New Mexico, 850-1250, Ancestral Puebloan Cultures

Chaco Canyon, covering about 30 square miles in present-day New Mexico with nine great houses, or pueblos, was an important center of Ancestral Puebloan civilization. The largest-known "great house" is a ruin known as "PUEBLO BONITO" (FIG. 13-28), which was built in stages between the ninth and mid twelfth centuries. Eventually it included over 800 rooms in four or five stories, arranged in a D shape. Within the crescent part of the D, 32 kivas recall the round, semi-submerged pit houses of earlier Southwestern cultures. Here men performed religious rituals and instructed youths in their responsibilities. Interlocking pine logs formed a shallow, domelike roof with a hole in the center through which the men entered by climbing down a ladder. Based on what we know of later Pueblo beliefs, a small indentation in the floor of the kiva directly under the entrance and behind the fire pit may have symbolized the "navel of the earth"—the place where ancestors of the Ancestral Pueblo had emerged to settle on the earth in mythic "first times." The top of the kivas formed the floor of the communal plaza. Pueblo Bonito stood at the hub of a network of wide, straight roads—almost invisible today, but discovered through aerial photography—that radiated out to some 70 other communities. They make no detour to avoid topographic obstacles; when they encounter cliffs, they become stairs. Their undeviating course suggests that they were more than practical thoroughfares: They may have served as processional ways. Given its place at the intersection of this road system and the prominence of kivas in the design of great houses such as Pueblo Bonito, some have suggested that Chaco Canyon may have been a gathering place or pilgrimage site for people from the entire region at specific times of year. Though no one knows for certain why Chaco Canyon was abandoned, the Ancestral Puebloan population declined during a severe drought in the mid-twelfth century, and building at Pueblo Bonito ceased around 1150. Ancestral Puebloans may have moved to the Rio Grande and Mogollon river valleys, where they built new apartmentlike dwellings on ledges under sheltering cliffs (FIG. 13-29). One of the most impressive surviving cliff dwellings from this period is the "Cliff Palace" in Mesa Verde, Colorado, comprised of 150 rooms and 23 kivas, with an estimated population of about 100. Difficult as it must have been to live high on canyon walls and commute to farm the valley below, the cliff communities had the advantage of being relatively secure. The cliffs also acted as insulation, protecting the dwellings from the extremes of heat and cold that characterize this part of the world. The many rooms housed an entire community comfortably, and close proximity built communal solidarity

Great Stupa, 150 BCE, India, Early Buddhist

For Buddhists, building stupas also has karmic benefits. Karma, a key component in both Hinduism and Buddhism, is the energy generated by a person's actions and the ethical consequences of those actions. Cosmology: Dome of heavens and axis Mundi, linking heavens and earth.

Hip Mask Representing an Iyoba, Benin, Edo Culture, 1550

IYOBA (QUEEN MOTHER) IDIA seen here (FIG. 14-16). It is one of two nearly matched ivory hip ornaments made at the same time for the famous Oba Esigie. One is in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, and the other is held by the British Museum in London. Both represent the same woman, Idia, who held the title of iyoba (queen mother) while her son, Esigie, was oba. Idia helped to negotiate the end of the war with the neighboring Igala in the early years of Esigie's reign, thus stabilizing the Edo Empire. For her efforts, Esigie created the title of iyoba for his mother. Most likely the two ivory pendants were made to commemorate her new status based on her political achievements. The minutely detailed headdress and neck ruff of the pendant depict Portuguese men, identifiable through their round, European-style hats and long hair and beards. In Idia's headdress, each Portuguese face alternates with a mudfish, a local species of catfish recognizable by its broad flat body, whiskers, and eyes on the top of its head. The Portuguese were an important symbol in Benin City art. They supplied coral, satin, hats, and other items of value to the oba, who in turn provided them with red pepper, metal, animal skins, and eventually ivory and captives to be sold as slaves. The Portuguese therefore became associated with the wealth and power of the oba; co-opting their image into the royal arts presented them as subjects to the king and queen mother, clearly under their economic and political control. The mudfish seen in the ivory sculpture of Idia also signify the power of the oba. Mudfish have an extraordinary ability to dig into the mud of riverbanks and go into a state of hibernation during the dry season, waiting to re-emerge until the rains come. Some mudfish also carry an electrical charge. This ability to "defeat" death and electrocute enemies inspired their use as animal symbols for the oba. Hip pendants were generally made of brass or bronze and worn where a man's rectangular cloth wrapper was knotted closed at his waist. In other sixteenth-century artworks from Benin City, we see warrior chiefs and kings wearing face pendants on their hips. Most of these depict kings, leopards, or the queen mother. Only a few ivory hip pendants have been found, making this piece and its partner at the British Museum almost unique in Edo art.

FAN KUAN, Travelers Among Mountains and Streams, 11th century, China, Northern Song Dynasty

Immense boulders occupy the foreground and are presented to the viewer at eye level. Just beyond them one sees crisp, detailed brushwork describing rocky outcroppings, covered with trees. Looking closely, one sees two men driving a group of donkeys loaded with firewood and a temple partially hidden in the forest. In the background a central peak rises from a mist-filled chasm and is flanked by two smaller peaks. This solid screen of gritty rock takes up nearly two-thirds of the picture. The sheer height of the central peak is accentuated by a waterfall plummeting from a crevice near the summit and disappearing into the narrow valley. Landscape Ink on silk hanging scroll.

Dome of the Rock, 692, Israel, Islamic, Umayyad Dynasty

In the center of Jerusalem rises the Haram al-Sharif ("Noble Sanctuary"), a rocky outcrop from which Muslims believe Muhammad ascended to the presence of God on the "Night Journey" described in the Qur'an, as well as the site of the First and Second Jewish Temples. Jews and Christians variously associate this place with Solomon, the site of the creation of Adam, and the place where the patriarch Abraham prepared to sacrifice his son Isaac at the command of God. In 691-692, a domed shrine was built over the rock (FIG. 9-3), employing artists trained in the Byzantine tradition to create the first great monument of Islamic art. By assertively appropriating a site holy to Jews and Christians, the Dome of the Rock manifested Islam's view of itself as completing and superseding the prophecies of those faiths. Structurally, the Dome of the Rock imitates the centrally planned form of Early Christian and Byzantine martyria (SEE FIGS. 7-14, 8-5). However, unlike the plain exteriors of its models, it is crowned by a golden dome that dominates the skyline. The ceramic tiles on the lower portion of the exterior were added later, but the opulent marble veneer and mosaics of the interior are original. The dome, surmounting a circular drum pierced with windows and supported by arcades of alternating piers and columns, covers the central space containing the rock (FIG. 9-4), and concentric aisles (ambulatories) permit devout visitors to circumambulate it. Inscriptions from the Qur'an are interspersed with passages from other texts, including information about the building itself, to form a frieze around the inner and outer arcades. As pilgrims walk around the central space to read the inscriptions in brilliant gold mosaic on turquoise green ground, the building communicates both as a text and as a dazzling visual display. These inscriptions are especially notable because they are the oldest surviving written verses from the Qur'an and the first use of Qur'anic inscriptions in architecture. Below them, the walls are faced with marble—the veining of which creates abstract symmetrical patterns—and the rotunda is surrounded by columns of gray marble with gilded capitals. Above the calligraphic frieze is another mosaic frieze depicting symmetrical vine scrolls and trees in turquoise, blue, and green embellished with imitation jewels over a gold ground. The mosaics are variously thought to represent the gardens of Paradise and trophies of Muslim victories offered to God. Though the decorative program is extraordinarily rich, the focus of the building is neither art nor architecture but the plain rock it shelters.

JEAN PUCELLE, The Hours of Jeanne d'Evreux, 1325-1328, French High Gothic

King Charles IV gave his 14-year-old queen, Jeanne d'Évreux, a tiny Book of Hours illuminated by the Parisian painter Jean Pucelle, perhaps on the occasion of their marriage in 1324. When opened, it fits easily within one hand (see "Closer Look" opposite). This book was so precious to the queen that she mentioned it and its illuminator specifically in her will, leaving this royal treasure to King Charles V. Pucelle painted the book's pictures in grisaille. His style clearly derives from the courtly mode established in Paris at the time of Louis IX—softly modeled, voluminous draperies gathered loosely and falling in projecting diagonal folds around tall, elegantly posed figures with carefully coiffed, curly hair, broad foreheads, and delicate features. But his conception of space, with figures placed within coherent, discrete architectural settings, suggests a firsthand knowledge of contemporary Sienese art. Jeanne appears in the initial D below the Annunciation, kneeling in prayer before a lectern, perhaps using this Book of Hours to guide her meditations, beginning with the words written on this page: Domine labia mea aperies (Psalm 51:15: "O Lord, open thou my lips"). The juxtaposition of the praying Jeanne with a scene from the life of the Virgin Mary suggests that the sacred scene is actually a vision inspired by Jeanne's meditations. The young queen might have identified with and sought to feel within herself Mary's joy at Gabriel's message. Given what we know of Jeanne's life and her royal husband's predicament, it might also have directed the queen's prayers toward the fulfillment of his wish for a male heir. In the Annunciation, Mary is shown receiving the archangel Gabriel in a Gothic building that seems to project outward from the page toward the viewer, while rejoicing angels look on from windows under the eaves. The group of children at the bottom of the page at first glance seems to echo the angelic jubilation. Folklorists have suggested, however, that the children are playing "froggy in the middle" or "hot cockles," games in which one child was tagged by the others. To the medieval viewer, if the game symbolized the mocking of Christ or the betrayal of Judas, who "tags" his friend, it would have evoked a darker mood—referring to the picture on the other page of this opening and foreshadowing Jesus's imminent death even as his life is beginning. In this opening Pucelle juxtaposes complementary scenes drawn from the Infancy and Passion of Christ, placed on opposing pages in a scheme known as the Joys and Sorrows of the Virgin. The "joy" of the Annunciation on the right is paired with the "sorrow" of the betrayal and arrest of Christ on the left. Christ sways back as Judas betrays him with a kiss. The S-curve of his body mirrors the Virgin's pose on the opposite page, as both accept their fate with courtly decorum. The prominent lamp held aloft by a member of the arresting battalion informs the viewer that this scene takes place at night, in the dark. The angel who holds up the boxlike enclosure where the Annunciation takes place is an allusion to the legend of the miraculous transportation of this building from Nazareth to Loreto in 1294. Christ reaches casually down to heal Malchus, the assistant of the high priest, whose ear Peter had just cut off in angry retaliation for his participation in the arrest of Jesus. Visual puns, off-color jokes, and scenes of secular amusements from everyday life appear at the bottom of many pages of this book. Sometimes they relate to the themes of the sacred scenes above them. These comic knights riding goats may be a commentary on the lack of valor shown by the soldiers assaulting Jesus, especially if this wine barrel conjured up for Jeanne an association with the Eucharist. The candle held by the cleric who guards the "door" to Jeanne's devotional retreat, as well as the rabbit emerging from its burrow in the marginal scene, are sexually charged symbols of fertility that seem directly related to the prayers of a child bride required to produce a male heir. Two-page opening from the Hours of Jeanne d'Évreux. Paris. c. 1324-1328. Grisaille and color on vellum, each page 35⁄8 × 27⁄16″

LORENZETTI, The Effects of Good Government in the City and Country, 1338, Italian Gothic

Lorenzetti painted the results of both good and bad government on the two long walls. For the expansive scene of THE EFFECTS OF GOOD GOVERNMENT IN THE CITY AND IN THE COUNTRY, and in tribute to his patrons, he created an idealized but recognizable portrait of the city of Siena and its immediate environs (FIG. 18-16). The cathedral dome and the distinctive striped campanile are visible in the upper left-hand corner; the streets are filled with the bustling activity of productive citizens who also have time for leisurely diversions. Lorenzetti shows the city from shifting viewpoints so we can see as much as possible, and renders its inhabitants larger in scale than the buildings around them to highlight their activity. Featured in the foreground is a circle of dancers—probably a professional troupe of male entertainers masquerading as women as part of a spring festival—and above them, at the top of the painting, a band of masons on exterior scaffolding is constructing the wall of a new building. The Porta Romana, Siena's gateway leading to Rome, divides the thriving city from its surrounding countryside. In this panoramic landscape painting, Lorenzetti describes a natural world marked by agricultural productivity, showing activities of all seasons simultaneously—sowing, hoeing, and harvesting. Hovering above the gate that separates city life and country life is a woman clad in a wisp of transparent drapery, a scroll in one hand and a miniature gallows complete with a hanged man in the other. She represents Security, and her scroll bids those coming to the city to enter without fear because she has taken away the power of the guilty who would harm them. The world of the Italian city-states—which had seemed so full of promise in Ambrogio Lorenzetti's Good Government fresco—was transformed into uncertainty and desolation by a series of natural and societal disasters as the middle of the century approached. In 1333, a flood devastated Florence, followed by banking failures in the 1340s, famine in 1346-1347, and epidemics of the bubonic plague, especially virulent in the summer of 1348. Some art historians have traced the influence of these calamities on the visual arts at the middle of the fourteenth century (see "The Black Death" on page 559). Yet as dark as those days must have seemed to the men and women living through them, the cultural and artistic changes initiated earlier in the century would persist. In a relatively short span of time, the European Middle Ages gave way in Florence to a new movement that would blossom in the Italian Renaissance.

Hungry Tigress Jataka, Tamamushi Shrine, 650, Japan, Asuka Period

Paintings on the sides of the Tamamushi Shrine are among the few two-dimensional works of art to survive from the Asuka period. Most celebrated among them are two that illustrate Jataka tales, stories about former lives of the Buddha. One depicts the future Buddha nobly sacrificing his life in order to feed his body to a starving tigress and her cubs (FIG. 12-5). Since the tigers are at first too weak to eat him, he jumps off a cliff to break open his flesh. The painter has created a full narrative within a single frame. The graceful form of the Buddha appears three times in three sequential stages of the story, harmonized by the curves of the rocky cliff and tall wands of bamboo. First, he hangs his shirt on a tree, then he dives downward onto the rocks, and finally the starving animals devour his body. The elegantly slender renditions of the figure and the stylized treatment of the cliff, trees, and bamboo represent an international Buddhist style that was transmitted to Japan via China and Korea. Such illustrations of Jataka tales helped popularize Buddhism in Japan Panel of the Tamamushi Shrine, Horyuji. Asuka period, c. 650 ce. Lacquer on wood, height of shrine 7′71⁄2″

Bayeux Embroidery, 1066 - 1082, Romanesque

Rarely has art spoken more vividly than in the eleventh-century BAYEUX EMBROIDERY, a strip of embroidered linen that recounts the history of the Norman Conquest of England. Its designer was a skillful storyteller who used a staggering number of images to tell the tale. In the 50 surviving scenes there are more than 600 human figures; 700 horses, dogs, and other creatures; and 2,000 inch-high letters. This work represents the kind of secular art that must once have been part of most royal courts. It could have been rolled up and transported from residence to residence as the noble Norman owner traveled throughout his domain, and some have speculated that it may have been the backdrop at banquets for stories sung by professional performers who could have received their cues from the identifying inscriptions that accompany most scenes. Eventually the embroidery was given to Bayeux Cathedral, perhaps by Bishop Odo, William's half brother; we know it was displayed around the walls of the cathedral on the feast of the relics. Flanked by narrower bands of ornament, the broad, central narrative strip of the Bayeux Embroidery chronicles the events that led to Duke William of Normandy's conquest of England on October 14, 1066, when, after a long day of fighting, he became William the Conqueror, king of England. It may have been drawn by a Norman designer since there is a clear Norman bias in the telling of the story; it justifies William's conquest with the intensity of an eyewitness account. The style of the embroidery, however, suggests that Anglo-Saxons did the actual needlework. Early in the story, the Anglo-Saxon nobleman Harold swears his allegiance to William, but later he betrays this vow, accepting the crown of England for himself. Harold begins as a heroic figure, but then events overtake him. After his coronation, cheering crowds celebrate— until Halley's Comet crosses the sky (FIG. 16-31). The Anglo-Saxons, seeing the comet as a portent of disaster, cringe and point at this brilliant ball of fire with a flaming tail, and a man rushes to inform the new king. Harold slumps on his throne in the Palace of Westminster. He foresees what is to come: Below his feet is his vision of a ghostly fleet of Norman ships already riding the waves. Duke William has assembled the last great Viking flotilla on the Normandy coast. Unworthy to be king, Harold dies in the ensuing battle at the hands of William and the Normans. In another extended tableau, Duke William and his brother Odo, Bishop of Bayeux, are feasting before the battle (FIG. 16-32). Attendants bring in roasted birds on skewers, placing them on a makeshift table made of the knights' shields set on trestles. The diners, summoned by the blowing of a horn, gather at a curved table laden with food and drink. Bishop Odo—seated at the center, head and shoulders above William to his right—blesses the meal while others eat. The kneeling servant in the middle proffers a basin and towel so that the diners may wash their hands. The man on Odo's left points to the next event, a council of war between William (now the central and tallest figure), Odo, and a third man labeled "Rotbert," probably Robert of Mortain, another of William's half brothers. The text reads: "and here the servants (ministra) perform their duty. / Here they prepare the meal (prandium) / and here the bishop blesses the food and drink (cibu et potu). Bishop Odo. William. Robert." The tragedy of this drama has spoken movingly to audiences over the centuries. It is the story of a good man—Harold—who, like Shakespeare's Macbeth, is overcome by his lust for power and so betrays his lord—Duke William. The images of this Norman invasion also spoke to people during the darkest days of World War II. When the Allies invaded Nazi-occupied Europe in June 1944, they took the same route in reverse from England to beaches on the coast of Normandy. The Bayeux Embroidery still speaks to us of the folly of human greed and ambition and of two battles that changed the course of history. Although traditionally referred to as the "Bayeux Tapestry," this work is really an embroidery. In tapestry, the colored threads that create images or patterns are woven together during the process of production, completely covering the canvas ground that serves as their support; in embroidery, stitches are applied on top of a tightly woven fabric that serves as their support, as well as the ground behind the patterns they create (FIG. 16-33). The embroiderers—probably Anglo-Saxon women based on the style—worked in tightly twisted wool that was dyed in eight colors and sewed onto fine linen cloth. They used only two stitches: the quick, overlapping stem stitch that produced a slightly jagged line or outline, and the time-consuming laid-and-couched work used to form blocks of color. For the latter, the embroiderer first "laid" a series of long, parallel covering threads; then anchored them with a second layer of regularly spaced crosswise stitches; and finally tacked all the strands down with tiny "couching" stitches. Some of the laid-and-couched work was done in contrasting colors to achieve particular effects. The creative coloring is often fanciful: for example, some horses have legs in four different colors. Skin and other light-toned areas are represented by the bare linen cloth that formed the ground of the work.

Lintel 24: Shield Jaguar and Lady Xoc, 725, Maya

Shield Jaguar's elaborate headgear includes the shrunken head of a sacrificial victim, proclaiming his past piety in another ritual pleasing to the gods. The two inscriptions—almost acting as an internal frame for the standing figure—record the date and the nature of the ritual portrayed: bloodletting on October 28, 709. They also identify the standing king as Shield Jaguar and the kneeling woman as Lady Xok. The sharply outlined subjects, as well as the way they project forward from a deeply recessed, blank background, focus viewers' attention on the bodies of Shield Jaguar and his kneeling wife, Lady Xok. Shield Jaguar holds a huge torch, indicating that this ritual took place within a dark room or during the night. Tasseled headdresses are associated with bloodletting rituals. Lady Xok pulls a rope of thorns through her perforated tongue, while spiraling dotted lines show the blood she is sacrificing to the gods. The spiny rope falls to a basket with blood-spotted paper and a stingray spine (also sometimes used for bloodletting). This ritual of self-mutilation was required of royalty since it was believed to maintain royal rule and continuation of human life within the kingdom by gaining favor with the gods. Lady Xok is lavishly dressed in a garment made of patterned fabric edged with a fringe. The mosaics on her cuffs and collar could be made of jade or shell. Yaxchilan, Mexico. Maya culture, 726 ce. Limestone, 431⁄2 × 313⁄4″

Geoglyph of a Hummingbird, Peru, c. 700, Nazca Culture

The Nazca are best known for their colossal earthworks, or geoglyphs, which dwarf even the most ambitious twentieth-century environmental sculpture. On great stretches of desert they literally drew in the earth. By removing dark, oxidized stones, they exposed the light underlying stones. In this way they created gigantic images—including a HUMMINGBIRD with a beak 120 feet long, a killer whale, a monkey, a spider, a duck, and other birds—similar to those with which they decorated their pottery. They also made abstract patterns and groups of straight, parallel lines that extend for up to 12 miles. The purpose and meaning of the glyphs remain a mystery, but the "lines" of stone are wide enough to have been ceremonial pathways

Chartres Cathedral, 1145-1250, Early to Mid French Gothic

The abbey church of Saint-Denis became the prototype for a new architecture of space and light based on a highly adaptable skeletal framework that supported rib vaulting on the points of slender piers—rather than along massive Romanesque walls—reinforced by external buttress systems. It initiated a period of competitive experimentation in France that resulted in ever-larger churches—principally cathedrals—enclosing increasingly taller interior spaces, walled with ever-greater expanses of stained glass. The new Gothic conceptions of space and wall and the structural techniques that made them possible were developed further at the Cathedral of Notre-Dame at Chartres. The great cathedral dominates this town southwest of Paris and, for many people, is a near-perfect embodiment of the Gothic style. Constructed in several stages beginning in the mid twelfth century and extending into the mid thirteenth, with additions such as the north spire as late as the sixteenth century, Chartres Cathedral reflects the transition from an experimental twelfth-century architecture to a mature thirteenth-century style. Chartres was the site of a pre-Christian virgin-goddess cult, and later, dedicated to the Virgin Mary, it became one of the oldest and most important Christian shrines in France. Its main treasure was a piece of linen believed to have been worn by the Virgin Mary when she gave birth to Jesus. This relic was a gift from the Byzantine empress Irene to Charlemagne, whose grandson Charles the Bald donated it to Chartres in 876. It was kept below the high altar in a huge basement crypt. The healing powers attributed to the cloth made Chartres a major pilgrimage destination, especially as the cult of the Virgin grew in popularity in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. Its association with important market fairs—especially cloth markets—held at Chartres on the feast days of the Virgin put the textile relic at the intersection of local prestige and the local economy, increasing the income of the cathedral not only through pilgrimage but also through tax revenue it received from the markets. The WEST FAÇADE of Chartres (FIG. 17-4) preserves an early sculptural program created within a decade of the reconstruction of Saint-Denis. Surrounding these three doors—the so-called Royal Portal, used only for important ceremonial entrances of the bishop and his retinue—sculpted figures calmly and comfortably fill their architectural settings. On the central tympanum, Christ is enthroned in majesty, returning at the end of time surrounded by the four evangelists (FIG. 17-5). Although imposing, he seems more serene and human than in the hieratic and stylized portrayal of the same subject at the priory church at Moissac (SEE FIG. 16-21). The apostles, organized into four groups of three, fill the lintel, and the 24 elders of the Apocalypse line the archivolts. The right portal is dedicated to the Incarnation (God's first earthly appearance), highlighting the role of Mary in the early life of Christ, from the Annunciation to the Presentation in the Temple. On the left portal is the Ascension (the Incarnate God's return from earth to heaven). Jesus floats heavenward in a cloud supported by angels. Running across all three portals on the top of the jambs just underneath the level of the lintels, historiated capitals depict Jesus's life on earth in a series of small, lively narrative scenes.

Head of a King, Ife, Yoruba Culture, 13th century

The brass head seen here demonstrates the extraordinary talents of the artist who produced it using the lost-wax casting technique (FIG. 14-1). The modeling of the flesh—covered with thin, parallel scarification patterns (decorations made by scarring)—is remarkably sensitive, especially the subtle transitions around the nose and mouth. This head portrays a Yoruba oni (king) and could represent either a male or female ruler. The full, delicate lips and expressive eyes bulge organically, stressing the artist's desire to connect human anatomy with the spiritual nature of the oni. The oni in fact was seen as an intermediary between Yoruba people and the spiritual realms of their gods, ancestors, and demons. The oni was understood to live in a human body, but be mostly spirit (or godlike) in nature. Cast metal heads of kings and queens like the one seen here are part of a sculptural tradition that began in the city of Ife (also known as Ile-Ife) in about 1050 ce in what is today Nigeria. The Yoruba religion regards Ife as the "navel of the world," the site of creation where Ife's first ruler— Oni Oduduwa—came down from heaven to create Earth. By the eleventh century ce, Ife was a lively metropolis. It was, and remains, a sacred city for Yoruba people. The Yoruba kings at Ife were but a small part of a tremendous series of ancient empires that stretched from West Africa to the central Saharan region (MAP 14-1). The Ghana and Akan empires south of the Sahara traded gold with those possessing salt in the north. Mobile populations such as the Fulani in the Sahara region and the Khoekhoe and San in the Kalahari region built wealth in herding domesticated animals across the savanna biomes of the continent. They displayed this wealth on their bodies in the form of elaborately made jewelry and clothing, as well as painstakingly elaborate hairstyles, body art, and patterned skin scarification. Nubian kings along the upper Nile influenced and were influenced by the Egyptian pharaohs farther downriver. Their temples and commemorative statues attest to their political power and artistic might. By following the trade routes that linked African empires such as the Yoruba to each other and to the lands beyond their continent, we can gain insight into social, cultural, religious, and artistic desires of each region. Undoubtedly more research will lead to new interpretations and better understanding of the myriad of objects produced by Africans from prehistory to today. This is what makes the study of African art so exciting and dynamic, as well as vital to our understanding of art history around the world.

Haniwa, 6th century, Japan, Kofun Period

The first haniwa were simple cylinders that may have held jars with ceremonial offerings. By the fifth century, these cylinders came to be made in the shapes of ceremonial objects, houses, and boats. Gradually, animals were added to the repertoire of haniwa subjects, including birds, deer, dogs, monkeys, cows, and horses. By the sixth century, HANIWA in human shapes were crafted, including males and females of various types, professions, and classes (FIG. 12-2). Haniwa embody aesthetic characteristics that we will encounter again in Japanese art. Their clay bodies were left unglazed and do not show a preoccupation with technical virtuosity. Instead, their makers explored the expressive potentials of simple and bold forms. Haniwa are never perfectly symmetrical; their slightly off-center eye-slits, irregular cylindrical bodies, and unequal arms seem to impart the idiosyncrasy of life and individuality There have been many theories on the function of haniwa. The figures seem to have served as some kind of link between the world of the dead, over which they were placed, and the world of the living, from which they could be viewed. This figure has been identified as a seated female shaman, wearing a robe, belt, and necklace and carrying a mirror at her waist. In early Japan, shamans acted as agents between the natural and the supernatural worlds, just as haniwa figures were links between the living and the dead. From Kyoto. Kofun period, 6th century ce. Earthenware

Transept

The part of a church with an axis that crosses the nave at a right angle.

Buddha and Attendants, 2nd century CE, India, Mathura Style

The second major style of Buddhist art in the Kushan period—that found at Mathura— was not allied with the Hellenistic-Roman tradition. Instead, the Mathura style evolved from representations of yakshas, the indigenous male nature deities. Early images of the Buddha produced at Mathura draw on this sculptural tradition, often portraying him in a frontal stance with broad shoulders and wide eyes. The stele shown here (FIG. 10-15) is one of the finest of the early Mathura images. The sculptors worked in a distinctive red sandstone flecked with cream-colored spots. Carved in high relief (forms projecting strongly from the background), it depicts a seated Buddha with two attendants. His right hand is raised in a symbolic gesture meaning "have no fear." Images of the Buddha rely on a repertoire of such gestures, called mudras, to communicate certain ideas, such as teaching, meditation, or the attaining of enlightenment (see "Mudras" opposite). The Buddha's urna, his ushnisha, and the impressions of wheels on his palms and soles are all clearly visible in this figure. Behind his head is a large, circular halo; the scallop points of its border represent radiating light. Behind the halo are branches of the pipal tree, the tree under which the Buddha was seated when he achieved enlightenment. Two celestial beings hover above. As in Gandhara sculptures, the Mathura work gives a powerful impression of the Buddha. The diaphanous quality of his robe is suited to the warm climate of Mathura, just as the thick robe of the Gandhara example is appropriate in the cooler weather of the northwest. The robe is pulled tightly over the body, allowing the fleshy form to be seen as almost nude. Where the pleats of the robe appear, such as over the left arm and fanning out between the legs, they are depicted abstractly through compact parallel formations of ridges with an incised line in the center of each ridge. This characteristic Mathura tendency to abstraction also appears in the face, whose features take on geometric shapes, as in the rounded forms of the widely opened eyes. Nevertheless, the torso with its subtle and soft modeling is strongly naturalistic. This Buddha's riveting outward gaze and alert posture impart an intense, concentrated energy that draws on imagery associated with nature deities and reveals a spiritual power contained in physical form.

BISHOP BERNWARD, Bronze Doors, 1015, Ottonian

Under the last of the Ottonian rulers, Henry II and Queen Kunigunde (ruled 1002-1024), Bishop Bernward of Hildesheim emerged as an important patron. His biographer, the monk Thangmar, described Bernward as a skillful goldsmith who closely supervised the artists working for him. Bronze doors made under his direction for the abbey church of St. Michael in Hildesheim—and installed by him in 1015, according to the inscription on them—represented the most ambitious bronze-casting project undertaken since antiquity (FIG. 15-27). Each door, including the impressive lion heads holding the ring handles, was cast as a single piece using the lost-wax process (see "Lost-Wax Casting" in Chapter 14 on page 428) and later detailed and reworked with chisels and fine tools. Rounded, animated figures populate spacious backgrounds. Architectural elements and features of the landscape are depicted in lower relief so that the figures stand out prominently, with their heads fully modeled in three dimensions. The result is lively, visually stimulating, and remarkably spontaneous in feeling for so monumental an undertaking. The doors, standing more than 16 feet tall, portray events from the Hebrew Bible on the left (reading downward from the creation of Eve at the top to Cain's murder of Abel at the bottom) and from the New Testament on the right (reading upward from the Annunciation at the bottom to the Noli me tangere at the top). In each pair of scenes placed across from each other, the Hebrew Bible event is meant to prefigure or complement the New Testament event. For instance, the third panel down on the left shows Adam and Eve picking the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden, believed by Christians to be the source of human sin, suffering, and death. The paired scene on the right shows the Crucifixion of Jesus, whose sacrifice was believed to have atoned for Adam and Eve's original sin, bringing the promise of eternal life. At the center of the doors, six panels down—between the door pulls—Eve (left) and Mary (right) are paired, holding their sons. Cain (who murdered his brother) and Jesus (who was unjustly executed) signify the opposition of evil and good, damnation and salvation. Other telling combinations are the murder of Abel (the first sin) paired with the Annunciation (the advent of salvation) at the bottom, and the passing of blame from Adam and Eve to the serpent paired with Pilate washing his hands of any responsibility in the execution of Jesus, fourth from the top.

Taj Mahal, India, 1648, Mughal Dynasty

Upon entering the gateway that today serves as the entrance to the great Taj Mahal complex, the visitor beholds the majestic white marble structure that is one of the world's best-known monuments. Its reflection shimmers in the pools of the garden meant to evoke a vision of paradise as described in the Qur'an. The building's façades are delicately inlaid with inscriptions designed by India's foremost calligrapher of the time, Amanat Khan, and floral arabesques in semiprecious stones: carnelian, agate, coral, turquoise, garnet, lapis, and jasper. Above, its luminous white marble dome reflects each shift in light, flushing rose at dawn, dissolving in its own brilliance in the noonday sun. This extraordinary building—originally and appropriately called the Illuminated Tomb and only since the nineteenth century known as the TAJ MAHAL (FIG. 24-1)—was built between 1631 and 1648 by the Mughal ruler Shah Jahan as a mausoleum for his favorite wife, Mumtaz Mahal, who died in childbirth, and likely as a tomb for himself. Inside, the Taj Mahal invokes the hasht behisht ("eight paradises") with the eight small chambers that ring the interior—one at each corner and one behind each iwan, a vaulted opening with an arched portal that is a typical feature of eastern Islamic architecture. In two stories (for a total of 16 chambers), the rooms ring the octagonal central area, which rises the full two stories to a domed ceiling that is lower than the outer dome. In this central chamber, surrounded by a finely carved octagonal openwork marble screen, are the exquisite inlaid cenotaphs (funerary monuments to someone whose remains lie elsewhere) of Shah Jahan and his wife, whose actual tombs lie in the crypt below. The Taj Mahal complex includes much more than the white marble tomb. On one side is a mosque, while opposite and very similar in appearance is a building that may have served as a rest house. The enormous garden, both in front of the building and in its continuation on the opposite side of the Jamuna River, lends a lush setting consistent with Islamic notions of paradise. The side buildings and the two parts of the garden provide a sense of perfect symmetry to the entire complex. A dynasty of Central Asian origin, the Mughals were the most successful of the many Islamic groups that established themselves in India beginning in the twelfth century. Under their patronage, Persian and Central Asian influences continued, but the Mughals intentionally cultivated connections with older traditions of the South Asian subcontinent, adding yet another dimension to the already ancient and complex artistic heritage of India.

HILDEGARD VON BINGEN, Hildegard and Volmar, Liber Scivias, 1150, Romanesque

We might expect women to have had subordinate positions in the hierarchical and militaristic society of the twelfth century. On the contrary, aristocratic women took responsibility for managing estates during their male relatives' frequent absences in wars or while serving at court. And some women also achieved positions of authority and influence as the heads of religious communities. Notable among them was Hildegard of Bingen (1098-1179). Born into an aristocratic German family, Hildegard transcended the barriers that limited most medieval women. She began serving as leader of her convent in 1136, and about 1147 she founded a new convent near Bingen. This author portrait was once part of a manuscript of Hildegard's Scivias that many believe was made in her own lifetime, but it was lost in World War II. Today we can study its images only from prewar black-and-white photographs or from a full-color facsimile that was lovingly hand-painted by the nuns of the abbey of St. Hildegard in Eibingen under the direction of Joesepha Krips between 1927 and 1933, the source of both pictures reproduced here. The opening page (FIG. 16-38) shows Hildegard receiving a flash of divine insight, represented by the tongues of flame encircling her head—she said "a fiery light, flashing intensely, came from the open vault of heaven and poured through my whole brain"—while her scribe Volmar writes to her dictation. But was she also responsible for the arresting pictures that accompany the text in this book? Art historian Madeline Caviness thinks so, both because of their unconventional nature and because they conform in several ways to the "visionary" effects experienced by many people during migraines, which plagued Hildegard throughout her life but especially during her forties while she was composing the Scivias. She said of her visions, "My outward eyes are open. So I have never fallen prey to ecstasy in the visions, but I see them wide awake, day and night. And I am constantly fettered by sickness, and often in the grip of pain so intense that it threatens to kill me." (Translated in Newman, p. 16.) Perhaps in this miniature Hildegard is using the large stylus to sketch on the wax tablets in her lap the pictures of her visions that were meant to accompany the verbal descriptions she dictates to Volmar, who sits at the right with a book in his hand, ready to write them down.

Nave

the central area of a church