The Artist: For a biography of Gerard David, see
“Gerard David (born about 1455, died 1523).” In Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History. New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2000–.The Theme: Based on the biblical description in the Gospel of Saint Luke (1:26–38), the scene is set in the bedchamber of the Virgin Mary. The angel Gabriel enters the room, his cape swirling around him, and with his right hand raised he greets the Virgin with the words, “Hail Mary, full of grace” (“Ave Maria, Gratia Plena;” Luke 1:28). Interrupted from her devotional reading, Mary crosses her arms over her heart, signaling her acceptance and contemplation of Gabriel’s message that she will conceive and bear the son of God, whom she will name Jesus. The dove hovering over Mary is the symbol of the Holy Spirit, who is believed to have overshadowed the Virgin when Christ was conceived.
The Original Appearance of the Altarpiece: Standing before this Annunciation, one is immediately struck by its unusual features. Unlike the more conventional early Netherlandish examples in The Met’s collection, such as those by Hans Memling (
17.190.7 and
1975.1.113), Gabriel and the Virgin Mary are painted on two separate panels, not one. Furthermore, although they appear to be situated in the same room, Gabriel and the Virgin are distant from each other, with the Virgin kneeling at her prie dieu a few steps up from where Gabriel has arrived in her bed chamber. The elevated diagonal pitch of the floor is notable, and Gabriel’s legs are oddly proportioned, his thighs particularly long, while the lower legs—from the knees down—appear stunted. All of these peculiarities are explained when we realize that these two panels were not part of a conventional Netherlandish triptych, meant to be viewed at eye level, but instead comprised the central tier of a monumental, multi-story Italian altarpiece or polyptych that was disassembled and some of its parts sold. Thanks to scholarship, the polyptych can now be reconstructed.
In a 1759 inventory of the objects in the abbey church of San Gerolamo della Cervara (near Portofino, Italy), Giuseppe Spinola (1790) described an altarpiece in the apse that depicted the Virgin and Child between Saints Jerome and Benedict, above which was the Virgin and the Angel of the Annunciation, all topped by a bust-length God the Father. Spinola attributed these panels to Albrecht Dürer, and a separate
Crucifixion to Luca d’Olanda (Lucas van Leyden). It was considerably later that Gian Vittoria Castelnovi (1952), again publishing Spinola’s description, identified the
Virgin and Child and Saints Jerome and Benedict with panels in the Palazzo Bianco, Genoa; the
Annunciation as the panels in The Met’s collection; and
God the Father as a painting housed in the Louvre. He proposed a tentative reconstruction of these panels, by then attributed to Gerard David, but noted that a
Crucifixion, also in the Palazzo Bianco, was the same width as the
Virgin and Child panel and might also be part of the altarpiece. Castelnovi indicated that the
Crucifixion must have been separated from the altarpiece before Spinola saw it, and that the entire work was completely dismantled in 1799, when, under the Napoleonic suppression of religious orders, the monks abandoned the monastery. Castelnovi’s preliminary reconstruction of the altarpiece without the
Crucifixion was adopted as well by Hans van Miegroet in his monograph on Gerard David (1989, pp. 211–17, no. 25). It was not until several later publications (Hyde 1997, Ainsworth in New York 1998, Ainsworth 1998, Di Fabio et al. 2005) that the
Crucifixion was joined with the other panels in a convincing reconstruction (see fig. 1 above).[1] This reconstruction was based on careful measurements of the panels and a study of the perspective system employed in the polyptych (discussed below, fig. 4). As is typical of Italian polyptychs from the fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries in the Ligurian-Lombard region (fig. 2), the paintings on the first level of the
Cervara Altarpiece all show figures of the same, relatively large scale. The second level shows a diminished scale for the figures of the
Annunciation and the
Crucifixion. In the third level,
God the Father appears again in large scale as the all-powerful holy figure, free from nature’s laws.
The seven paintings of the
Cervara Altarpiece are uniformly lit from the right. This scheme was likely chosen in order to coordinate the images with the natural light in the church. An architectural plan of the abbey church shows that the high altar, located at the front of the apse, would have been illuminated with natural light streaming in from a south side entrance to the church (Ainsworth 1998, p. 189; fig. 3).[2]
Further study of the perspective system throughout the seven paintings allows for the reconstruction of their relationship to each other within the scheme of the polyptych (Ainsworth 1998, pp. 188–91; fig. 4).[3] Beginning at the tip of God the Father’s miter, the central axis of the altarpiece passes through the heart-shaped jewel of the morse on his cope, the center of the figure of Christ, and then bisects the Virgin through the jewel in her diadem, and the area where the hand of the Christ Child and Virgin meet at the bunch of grapes. An internal system of sight lines continually directs the viewer’s eye up through the figures to God the Father or to the crucified Christ by way of carefully positioned motifs. Saint Jerome’s processional staff is slightly angled to direct the viewer’s eye up to Gabriel’s staff, which in turn leads toward God the father, or up to Gabriel’s right hand, which points toward the head of Christ. Benedict’s crozier is positioned to indicate the descending dove that is in a sight line that includes the heads of the Annunciate Virgin and God the Father; the scepter of God the Father once again leads down to the head of the crucified Christ and to the central axis of the painting.
The first and second tiers of the altarpiece each have a unified one-point perspective scheme that is intentionally off-center. The orthogonals of the floor tiles in the paintings of Saints Jerome and Benedict meet at a point (or very close to one point) slightly to the left of the Christ Child’s eye level. Just as in the placement of the Virgin’s head against the red stone back of the throne, the slightly off-center perspective achieves a kind of informality and relief from the rigid symmetry of the altarpiece. It allows for a softer, more naturalistic approach to the Christ Child, who looks out toward the viewer communicating the mystery of the Transubstantiation—the Catholic belief that at Communion, celebrated at the high altar, the wafer (or host) is transformed into the body of Christ. Above, the orthogonals of the floor tiles in the two panels of the
Annunciation meet at a point within the figure of the Virgin, near the horizon line of the
Crucifixion, and on the same vertical axis that intersects the focal point of the lower level. This achieves the continuous focus on the Virgin, to whom the abbey church is dedicated. In accordance with the viewer’s position below, David accelerated the recession of the space, most evident in the floor tiles of the
Annunciation, and presented the
Crucifixion with a lowered horizon line. This reconstruction was implemented in an exhibition at the Palazzo Bianco in 2005 when all of the associated panels were brought together and fit into a framework that was intended to replicate the original arrangement (fig. 5). This takes into account the altered panel of the Virgin and Child, which was at some point cut at the top and bottom.
The Commission: Gian Vittorio Castelnovi (1952) and later, Helen Hyde (1997), discussed the documentary sources for the original plans for an altarpiece for the high altar in the apse of the abbey church of San Girolamo della Cervara situated between Portofino and Santa Marguerita Ligure. When Giovanni Pallavicini joined the monastery in 1498, he offered funds for the creation of an altarpiece to adorn the main altar as well as silk curtains and tapestries. However, Pallavicini apparently was unable to fulfill his obligation, and Pope Alexander VI granted permission in 1500 for a new patron to take on the project.
Giuseppe Spinola’s description of the components of the
Cervara Altarpiece shortly after 1790 (see above) also noted that they were installed in a large gilt frame, below which was inscribed: Hoc opus fecit fieri Dnus Vincentius Saulus MCCCCCVI die VII Septembris (Vincenzo Sauli had this work made September 7, 1506). As the altarpiece was probably dismantled in 1799, the year that the monks abandoned the monastery (Castelnovi 1952) and the frame lost, this is our only reference to the second commission for the work.
Vincenzo Sauli (ca. 1467–ca. 1555) belonged to a prominent Genoese family, some of whom were long-term members of the Bruges merchant and banking community. Vincenzo held important government positions and was a successful banker—general depositor of the Apostolic Chamber in Rome between 1507 and 1515—and also served as ambassador to Pope Julius III in 1550 (Hyde 1994, II, pp. 11–14, 17–18; Hyde 1997, p. 246, nn. 33–35). However, there is no documentation of his presence in Bruges, and this has led some to conclude that the commission for the altarpiece was relayed by other members of his family who were part of the merchant community in Bruges. One possibility is Benedetto Sauli, who was a member of the Confraternity of the Dry Tree during the time that Gerard David joined in 1507, and the two must have known each other (De Fabbio 2005, p. 36).[4] Alternatively, the commission may have been delivered on Vincenzo’s behalf by his younger brother, Pietro, who was apparently often in Bruges and a well-known member of the Genoese community already by 1504. He was an alum and gallnut merchant and banker. Clario Di Fabio (2005, p. 36) suggested that it was Pietro who contacted the artist with the necessary information and relevant details concerning the intended location, ground plan of the abbey church, illumination of the altarpiece, iconography of the ensemble, framing, etc. Well acquainted with the artists in Bruges, Pietro himself commissioned a Flemish-style triptych of the Annunciation (around 1512–15, Palazzo Bianco, Genoa) from one of Bruges’s leading painters, Jan Provoost.[5]
A third possibility is that Vincenzo Sauli directly discussed the commission for the Cervara Altarpiece with Gerard David in Genoa or its environs. As Hans van Miegroet has noted (1989, pp. 25, 217), the documents are silent about any transactions or payments David made in Bruges between 1503 and 1507, providing a period when the artist could have traveled to Italy. However, Lorne Campbell called attention to the will of the Florentine merchant Gaspar Bonciani of April 8, 1506, mentioning the painting of an altarpiece that places David in Bruges at that time.[6] There is always the possibility that a trip to Italy
before 1506 acquainted David with the site of the abbey church of Cervara, and the details of the commission for the polyptych were delivered to David thereafter through members of Vincenzo Sauli’s immediate family. Two aspects of David’s work lead to this likely conclusion. The details of the altarpiece, even aspects of its style and technique, clearly have been adjusted to suit the specific location of the work in the apse chapel and to conform to the structure of an Italian-style polyptych. The polyptych was executed in such striking details—many of which would have been unfamiliar to a Northern artist—that firsthand acquaintance with its requirements seems to be more probable. Secondly, David’s post-1506 works show a new understanding and assimilation of Italian compositions, painting style, and technique in his work. This suggests a direct experience with North Italian art that was more likely to have taken place in situ than through the import of random examples to Bruges or even Antwerp (Ainsworth 1998, Chapter 10; Ainsworth 2005, pp. 16–31).[7]
Iconography: The commission of this polyptych for the high altar of the abbey church of San Gerolamo della Cervara determined its iconography and presentation (Ainsworth 1998, pp. 185–88; fig. 1). The lower tier presents the tenets of the Benedictine Order and the justification for the abbey church. Centrally placed are the enthroned Virgin and Child, to whom the church is dedicated. At the left stands Saint Jerome, the named saint of the monastery. He is dressed as a cardinal and with his attributes of his book translation from Hebrew into Latin of the canonical books of the Old Testament, his lion, and a processional staff with a cross and a tiny church in which stands a figure of Charlemagne. Jerome, one of the four great doctors of the Western Church, wrote the book that was the foundation of Western Mariology, which argued for her perpetual virginity. As such, Jerome regularly accompanies the Virgin in altarpieces. To the right is Saint Benedict, founder of the Benedictine order, whose Rule, carried in his left hand, was written at Montecassino, the motherhouse order near Naples. Montecassino joined the congregation of which Cervara was a member in 1505, that is, just one year before the date of the altarpiece. The second tier, including The Met’s
Annunciation and the
Crucifixion, is devoted to the themes of the Incarnation and Transubstantiation, in keeping with the position of the altarpiece on the high altar, the site of the Mass. Above on the third tier is God the Father, who, as does the crucified Christ below, gestures his blessing with his right hand. This blessing extends to the Annunciation, which led to the Incarnation and ultimately to the Crucifixion, and the shedding of Christ’s blood for the redemption of humankind. Directly below, the Virgin and Child hold a bunch of grapes symbolizing the Eucharist and representing the real presence of the body and blood of Christ.[8]
The Met’s
Annunciation is divided between two panels with the
Crucifixion between them, as is common for Italian altarpieces (fig. 2). Together they represent the incarnation of Christ and his sacrifice for the salvation of humankind. On the border of Gabriel’s cope are the words of the Lord from Revelation 1:8: ALPHA ET OM[EGA] (I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the ending), and [VIRTUS AL]TISSIMI OBOMBRABIT T[IBI] (the power of the highest shall overshadow thee) from Luke 1:35, the words spoken by Gabriel to the Virgin. Beginning in Flemish on the lower edge of the Virgin’s cloak are the words: MOEDER ONS HER[N] (Mother of our Lord). Continuing in Latin is: AVE MARIA MATER GRACI[A]E M[ATER] MISERICORDI[A]E TV NOS ABHOS[TE] [PROTEGE] (Hail Mary, Mother of Grace, Mother of Mercy, protect us from the enemy, [and at the hour of death take us]). This is a portion of the hymn
Salutis auctor, sung at the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin for the Little Hours (Terce, Sext, and None) and for Compline. Continuing on the cloak border to the right are further liturgical references to the Salve Regina hymn, sung at the close of Compline, the last office of the day: SALVE REGINA, MATER MISERICORDIAE, VITA, DULCEDO ET SPES NOSTRA, SALVE… (“Hail, Queen, Mother of mercy, Our life, our sweetness and our hope, hail!”). The traditional response is: O CLEMENS! O PIA! O DULCIS VIRGO MARIA! (“O merciful [clement]! O pious [loving]! O sweet Virgin Mary”).
The Attribution and Date: When the
Annunciation panels were first discussed in the literature they were attributed to a variety of different artists: Frans Floris (Ratti 1780), Albrecht Dürer (Spinola 1790), a follower of Van Eyck, possibly Van Orley (Weyer 1852), Mabuse (Unger 1852), and Hugo van der Goes (Weale 1862). It was the famous English journalist and art historian Joseph Archer Crowe, who with the Italian art critic Giovanni Battista Cavalcaselle wrote
A History of Painting in Italy (1864), who first attributed the
Annunciation to Gerard David in a review of an exhibition of old master paintings in Munich (1869). Just a few years later, in their book
The Early Flemish Painters (1872), Crowe and Cavalcaselle again proposed David’s authorship, this time noting that the panels are “by the same hand as the Rouen altarpiece,” an observation with which Weale concurred (1895). This most astute reference is to David’s documented 1509
Virgin Among Virgins (fig. 6) that the artist produced for and donated to the Convent of Sion in Bruges, and in which the portraits of David and his wife, Cornelia Cnoop, are prominently featured at the far upper left and upper right edges of the panel (Ainsworth 1998, pp. 73–87). Thereafter, the attribution of the
Annunciation to David was nearly unanimously accepted, even if these two panels were more often thought to be the wings of a triptych than components of an Italian-style polyptych (see References).
The connection that Crowe, Cavalcaselle, and Weale made between the
Annunciation and David’s documented
Virgin Among Virgins was remarkably apt. The two major works are separated by only three years, and show striking similarities as well as some notable differences. In pose, including the Christ Child, and even the patterns of the Virgin’s draperies in the two works, the Cervara Virgin and the Rouen Virgin are nearly twins. The Cervara Virgin’s head, however, is more strictly ovoid in shape, with elongated facial features. Her slightly more severe hairstyle emphasizes a broader forehead, and considerably enhanced chiaroscuro effects present a more somber and monumental conception.
David’s aim in the
Cervara Altarpiece, perhaps as dictated by Vincenzo Sauli himself, was a conflation of Flemish and Italian style. It was the artist’s first major attempt to blend the two contemporary traditions. The polyptych form itself is Italian, following familiar examples in situ in Liguria (fig. 2). Also conforming to local taste and imbued with Italian Renaissance spirit is the solemnity in mood, and the reduction of form and solid pyramidal shape of the Virgin and Child, seated on the monumental throne, as the focal point of a carefully established perspective scheme. The stripped-down and severe
Crucifixion also adheres to Italian models, as it eschews the anecdotal details and implied narrative of David’s other paintings of the theme (compare, for example, David’s
Crucifixion 09.157).
Other aspects of the altarpiece, however, are purely Northern in conception.
God the Father, at the apex of the polyptych, and the Annunciate Virgin are modeled after figures in the Ghent Altarpiece by Hubert and Jan van Eyck (figs. 7, 8).[9] David must have had numerous
ricordi drawings of other artist’s works on hand in his studio that he consulted and assimilated into his own works. Extant evidence of this workshop practice are a
Study of Four Heads of popes and bishops (National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa) from the Ghent Altarpiece, as well as a copy after Jan van Eyck’s
Virgin and Child at the Fountain (the drawing in the SMPK, Kupferstichkabinett, Berlin, and the painting in the Koninklijk Museum voor Schone Kunsten, Antwerp; Ainsworth 1998, pp. 26–29). Even the interior room of the
Annunciation, with its tiled floor and banquette beneath the window at the back, recalls the composition of the Ghent Altarpiece. Instead of imitating Van Eyck’s static and stationary Gabriel, however, David took his inspiration from Italian examples, namely a Gabriel in Vincenzo Foppa’s 1468 fresco cycle of Saint Peter in the Portinari Chapel at Sant’Eustorgio in Milan (fig. 9), which he may well have seen firsthand while visiting northern Italy (Ainsworth 1998, p. 191). As in The Met’s Gabriel figure, Foppa’s is seen
in soto di su (from below), in classicizing dress with peplos-like robe and swirling
couleur changeant cope. Gabriel’s announcement to the Virgin in the
Cervara Altarpiece thus becomes all the more compelling through a new sense of grace and urgency of movement.
The Artist’s Working Procedures: The successful integration of Flemish and Italian features in the
Cervara Altarpiece, exemplified by The Met’s
Annunciation, raises the question of whether David had a direct encounter with Italian art or whether his knowledge came to him secondhand in Flanders. If David in fact traveled to Italy to gain insight about the commission for the high altar of the abbey church of San Gerolamo della Cervara, might he also have painted the altarpiece in situ? All of the physical and technical examination of the paintings suggests that David produced the seven panels in Bruges and then transported them to Italy where they were placed in a waiting framework. The panels are Baltic oak, the indigenous wood of northern Europe, while Italian paintings are generally made on poplar panels. Dendrochronology of the panels by Peter Klein indicates an earliest possible felling date for the
Annunciation panels of 1494, thus well in time for the drying and seasoning of the wood in preparation for a painting produced in 1506 (Ainsworth 1998, p. 324; Klein 2005, pp. 94–95). The ground preparation is calcium carbonate or chalk, habitually used in the North. Trace elements of gypsum or calcium sulphate, the typically southern ground preparation, were found (Carboni and Galassi 2005, pp. 70–71; Centeno and Wypiski 2005, pp. 91–93). However, recent analysis of other large altarpieces, such as Hans Memling’s
God the Father with Singing and Music-making Angels, has now revealed a similar situation that may have been more wide-spread that previously thought.[10] It is clear from the edges of the panels that they were not painted in engaged frames, as was so often the case at this time. Instead, the panels were secured on an easel keeper at the lower edge, where the edge of the paint is raised (called a barbe). On all of the other edges, remnants of the ground preparation, underdrawing, and paint layers extend out onto the bare wood (zoom in on the images of the
Annunciation panels to view these edges).
The preparatory underdrawing on each of the seven panels is relatively detailed and generally followed closely in the painted layers. Looking at the infrared reflectogram of the figure of Gabriel, for example (figs. 10–13), it is possible to see that the first rough sketch was made in a dry, crumbly material. In a second phase, David used brush and a black pigment to adjust the forms and fix the design (zoom in on the infrared reflectogram to see these details). The perspective scheme was also executed at this stage. Even with the naked eye, ruled lines are visible underneath the painted composition, which has become more transparent over time, for example, especially showing through the vase for the lilies to the left of the Virgin. Tiny tack holes at regular intervals along the unpainted border of the panels of Gabriel and the Virgin Annunciate possibly indicate the placement of a cartoon for each figure on the panel in order to check its size in relationship to the setting in coordination with the perspective system. The fact that there are no major changes from the underdrawing of the figures to the final painted stages suggests that the initial concept for the figures was clearly worked out in advance in a series of preparatory drawings and cartoons. Of particular concern to David in these panels was the system of lighting, not only the direction of the light coming from the right rather than from the left as was his practice, but also an effort to emulate the chiaroscuro effects of Italian paintings (see further in Ainsworth 1998, pp. 197–98). Here and there, the underdrawing in brush approaches a kind of undermodeling. In the heads and hands of Gabriel and the Virgin, David precisely placed dark brushstrokes for shadowed forms and lightly scumbled over them. In certain areas this upper layer has been abraded and become more transparent over time, revealing the dark brush undermodeling. David achieved areas of half shadow by lightly painting with his liquid underdrawing medium an interrupted line with the tip of his brush as in the area beneath the Virgin’s eyes (see Ainsworth 1998, p. 200, fig. 196).
Although separated from each other on the second tier of the polyptych, with the
Crucifixion between them (fig. 1), Gabriel and the Virgin are beautifully coordinated by a limited but rich palette. Gabriel’s robe and wings and the Virgin’s dress and cloak, as well as the bed coverings, present harmonies in blue. Gabriel’s cope and the bag for the Virgin’s precious devotional book and pearl rosary, which spills out onto the tiled floor, provide coordinated red accents. The only discordant tone is struck by the interior of Gabriel’s cope, with its abrupt juxtaposition of turquoise and rose red. A hint of what this
couleur changeant cope was possibly meant to look like is indicated by David’s earlier
Annunciation of about 1490 (Detroit Institute of Art; fig. 14). The current appearance of Gabriel’s cope could well have to do with chemical changes in the pigments over time, such as the fading of the red (which appears to be a lake), or perhaps a harsh cleaning of long ago. It may also have to do with the fact that David anticipated that these two paintings not only would be seen from far below, but also from a considerable distance in the abbey church. This may have allowed David to adopt a less subtle approach in the blending of these colors, which when viewed from afar work more harmoniously together.
The
Cervara Altarpiece stands out in David’s oeuvre as one of his greatest achievements, in which he adapted his style to accommodate his patron Vincenzo Sauli by conflating Italian and Flemish aesthetic sensibilities. The complexity of the project, not only in terms of style, but also of iconography, was likely David’s most challenging commission. How he solved these demanding requirements led to an evolution in his painting style and technique. This experience had an impact on his later works, both in other grand scale paintings, such as the
Virgin Among Virgins of 1509 that he donated to the Convent of Sion (Ainsworth 1998, pp. 73–87; fig. 6), and more intimate paintings, such as The Met’s
Rest on the Flight into Egypt of around 1512–15 (
49.7.21). David’s ability to adapt his style, depending on whether he was catering to his Italian patrons or his locally-based Flemish clients, is exemplified in a few later realizations of the Annunciation theme. For the latter, see the outside wings of a triptych of around 1510 (The Met's Lehman Collection,
1975.1.120A–B), which copies the
Cervara Altarpiece Gabriel in a more restrained fashion, his dramatic swirling cope omitted to feature Gabriel’s wings in a trompe-l’oeil sculpture in the restricted space of the niche. There is also the
Annunciation in the Staedel Museum, Frankfurt, of around 1509 that merges the two separate Met panels into the more accustomed single-panel composition of this theme executed in a purely Flemish style (fig. 15).
Maryan W. Ainsworth 2020
[1] My sincere thanks to Clifford La Fontaine of CLF Design for his assistance in creating this reconstruction.
[2] Although David routinely illuminated his paintings from the left, his
Virgin Among Virgins altarpiece of 1509 (Musées des Beaux-Arts, Rouen), made for the main altar of the church of the Convent of Sion, also observes the lighting from the right. This may have been to coordinate the lighting in the painting with its location in the church.
[3] Clifford La Fontaine, CLF Design, generously worked out the perspective scheme for the seven panels and made the drawing of the resulting reconstruction.
[4] For the documentation of David’s membership in the Confraternity of the Dry Tree in 1507, see Miegroet 1989, doc. nos. 24, 25, pp. 339–40.
[5] See Galassi 2018, pp. 8–17.
[6] Lorne Campbell, Review of Gerard David by Hans J. van Miegroet,
Burlington Magazine 133 (September 1991), pp. 624–25. Campbell cites E. Viviani della Robbia, “Un mercante a Bruges nel sec. XV,”
Illustrazione toscana e dell’Etruria 9 (1941), pp. 81–85.
[7] For more on this question, see Ainsworth 1990, in particular p. 652; Ainsworth 1998, pp. 188–90 and fig. 177; and Ainsworth 2005, pp. 17–31, 59–67.
[8] For more on this iconography, see Ainsworth 1998, p. 187.
[9] This has often been noted. See Bodenhausen 1905, p. 157; Panofsky 1953, pp. 351–52; and Blaksberg 1991, pp. 57–66. For David’s
ricordi of features of Van Eyck paintings, see Ainsworth 1998, pp. 26–29.
[10] See forthcoming Lizet Klaassen, Marie Postec, Geert Van der Snickt, Marika Spring, “Materials and Painting Technique of Memling’s ‘God the Father with Singing and Music-making Angels’” in Lizet Klaassen et al., ed.,
Memling’s God the Father with Singing and Music-making Angels, Turnhout 2021.