My Kid Could Paint That

Jan Van Eyck, Virgin with Child and Saints, 1443

Have you ever had a moment in your life when your mind exploded? If not, prepare your mind ravaged. On either side of Infant Jesus are two saints. The saint standing on the left is St. Barbara and the one on the right is St. Elizabeth. When St. Barbara was a child and known simply as Barbara, her father locked her up in a tower and kept her there until she would marry a wealthy man. While up there, she converted from paganism to Catholicism. Because of her conversion, she was tortured by her father and then by the leader of the province. One night in her cell, her prayers are answered and her wounds are healed. Barbara’s father decapitates her the following day. She was later canonized the patron of soldiers. A statue of Mars sits on the balcony behind the St.Barbara.

The saint to the left of Christ is St. Elizabeth, known as the patron of hospitals. After becoming a widow at a young age, she used her dowry to found a hospital and care for the sick. Stories have been told of miracles performed at her grave following her death. In this fashion, both St. Elizabeth and St. Barbara represent Jesus' attributes of caring and kindness. Jesus has been known to watch over people, as St. Barbara would. He sacrificed himself for the salvation of others, similar to the fashion that St. Elizabeth did.

Geography can change philosophy. The art of Southern Renaissance contrasts the Northern Renaissance art in terms of the backdrop. In Italian religious artworks, the background to the subject often shows some aspect of heaven, whether that be angels or Christ. Botticelli's "Mystic Nativity" epitomizes the Italian Renaissance with the circle of angels flying above the baby Christ. Van Eyck represents the geographical differences between Italian and Northern art with the town in the background of the "Virgin and Child with Saints." 

Jan van Eyck, Arnolfini Portrait, 1434

Jan and Hubert van Eyck, Ghent Altarpiece, 1432

Jan and Hubert van Eyck, the dynamic sibling duo of the 15th century, began work on the Ghent Altarpiece in 1425, eight years before completion. Hubert, the elder Eyck, was commissioned to paint it for the private chapel of a wealthy Flemish businessman. After a year into his work, Hubert died and left the legacy of the painting to his brother.

The Altarpiece can be viewed in two parts – open and closed. In its closed state, we see a scene of the Annunciation above four statuesque figures. Both the Angel Gabriel and the Virgin Mary appear to be solid and heavy, due primarily to the heavy draping on their robes. The figures sit on separate panels and are separated by the emptiness of the middle panels, instead of a pillar or some sort of obstruction like we see in Fra Angelico or da Vinci’s rendition. The heaviness on the sides and emptiness in the middle balances the painting, as if it is on a scale. The statue effect in Gabriel and Mary mirrors the “statues” of John the Baptist and John the Evangelist on the lower middle panels. At first glance, the shadows and depth of the panels make the painted figures appear to be 3D, as if they are actual statues. On the lower left and right panels sit the patrons of the altarpiece; notably, they are the only figures in full color. John (Baptist) and John (Evangelist) seem to nod at them, as if paying respects to the wealthy couple.

Jan and Hubert van Eyck, Adoration of the Mystic Lamb, 1432

It is when we open the Altarpiece that we see the true brilliance of the painting. Such luxurious colors and extravagant details were not found often in 15th century religious paintings. The inside polyptych’s title, “Adoration of the Mystic Lamb,” refers to the lower central panel in which various saints, bishops, and prophets sacrifice Christ’s lamb. The huddled groups on all four corners of the painting make an “X,” with the lamb in the intersection so that it is the central figure. The lower clusters of people push viewers’ eyes along the robes of the angels surrounding the lamb, and thus push the eyes (and the lamb) up towards the heavens (as if the top of a large triangle). It just so happens that at the top of this triangle, in the central top panel, is God himself. This placement was definitely intentional, just like every deliberate detail that Eyck painted on his masterpiece.

Subterfuge in Art

Van Eyck,  The Wedding Portrait, 1434

Van Eyck always wins with the subtleties. Every mundane or simple object pictures represents something of sanctity. The mirror pictured behind the couple reflects the minister, or perhaps the artist, while oranges to the left of the groom symbolize fertility. Van Eyck does not need to paint the artist directly, because he finds his way around the conventions of the story with the mirror. He also does not need to explicitly announce the bride’s pregnancy, because though her oversized dress could be interpreted as simply the style of the day, the fertility fruit says what Van Eyck cannot.

Ability to symbolize the sanctity of marriage with clogs, a dog, and a broom, is a rare gift possessed by Van Eyck - and this piece specifically. The common dog name “Fido” derives from the Latin word meaning “to trust.” The small whisk brook symbolizes domestic care, while the cast aside clogs indicate that the marriage is taking place on holy ground. Van Eyck masters complexity in mundanity in order to achieve maximum impact with minimal, but precise detail.

Angels We Have Heard on High
The Imagery of Angels in Christian Art
Curated by Camille O'Leary

Jan van Eyck, Annunciation, 1434

Jan Van Eyck, Wedding Portrait, 1434

Distinctly Northern Renaissance, Jan Van Eyck's Wedding Portrait, or sometimes referred to as Arnolfini Portrait, is well known its enormous amount of symbolism. Though Wedding Portrait is still far from reaching the intensity of some of Brueghel's paintings, there's apparently more symbols than one can count with two hands. 

However, my dirt with this painting, or perhaps the entire Wedding Portrait fandom is their interpretation of the objects inside the painting. (I sometimes have this issue with book symbolism, too.)

For example, let's start with the discarded shoes on the bottom left. According to the high and mighty artsy people, those pair of shoes drawn in the corner mean sanctity. Perhaps they were standing on holy ground. They were getting married. But what if the man tossed those shoes to the side because they're uncomfortable, not to mention unsightly? I mean, look at the acute angle shape of the slipper. It wouldn't be comfortable even if the shoe were made of downy feathers.

What about the dog in the bottom foreground? It can be understood as a symbol of fidelity and perhaps wealth (due to the rare breed of the dog). But I wonder, what if, the dog was just a beloved pet the couple wanted in the photo with them?

There’s also the hanging chandelier. Clearly, the chandelier wasn’t meant for light when the sun falls behind the mountains and darkness creeps up. It’s a symbol for the unity of a marriage because that’s what all chandeliers are created for.

But perhaps the interpretation that most irks me is that faded, slightly hidden orange on the windowsill in the back. Does it really represent the purity and innocence before Adam and Eve, or is it really just an orange the couple forgot to hide in a pantry because the painter came in too soon? I would rather prefer the latter. It’s an orange, and nothing but an orange. The Bible doesn’t even specify what fruit Eve picked in the first place, so naming that isolated orange in the background as a symbol of innocence before the fall of Adam and Eve stretches the interpretation by a few miles. 

But despite the (in my opinion) wacky interpretations of the painting, I don't doubt the skill and cleverness behind the paintbrush. Van Eyck's oil painting is almost the epitome of a Northern Renaissance painting, with attention to detail, humanism, and lack of ornate decor. You see, a shoe can sometimes just be a shoe.