The Artist: For a biography of Jan van Eyck, see the
Target=”_blank”>Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History.
The Painting: Lovingly embracing her child, the Virgin stands before a resplendent brocade cloth of honor and throne within a Gothic niche. The architectural setting serves as a shrine or an aedicule, symbolic of the institutional Church, presenting the Virgin not only as the Mother of God but also as the representative of Christians who comprise the Church.[1] Suspended from the buttresses above the Virgin, and extending down beneath her feet, is a cloth of honor in blue silk brocaded with gold. On the upper border of the green velvet canopy, embroidered with pearls, is a Latin text from Genesis 28:17: DOMVS.dEI.EST.ET.PORTA.C[O]ELI, ([This is none other than] the house of God, and [this is] the gate of heaven). It refers to the Virgin as the
Porta Coeli (the gate or door of heaven), signaling her intercessory role for humankind through Christ, her son, at the Last Judgment.[2] Fictively carved into the dais below is another Latin phrase from Genesis 24:44: IPSA EST [MVLIER] QVAM PR[A]EPARAVIT DOM[INV]S FILIO D[OMI]NI MEI (Let the same be [the woman] whom the Lord hath appointed out for my master’s son). Both Genesis texts are selections from the story of Rebekah and her son, Jacob, indicating their individual roles as chosen by God. Genesis 24:44 refers to God’s choice of Rebekah as the wife of Isaac, who was the son of Abraham, a leader of the Israelites, and in Christian belief, a precursor of Christ. Genesis 28:17 denotes the divine selection of Jacob as the head of the tribes of Israel.[3] These Old Testament figures are a prefiguration of God’s choice of Mary to be the Mother and mystical Bride of Christ, the latter role of which is signaled by the ring she wears on her left hand. Moreover, exegetical literature on the Song of Solomon (Canticle of Canticles), early on from Origen and Augustine until the twelfth century, equated the bride therein with the Church and the bridegroom to Christ.[4] Rupert of Deutz (ca. 1075/80–ca. 1129) published seven books of commentary on the Canticle where he associated the bridegroom with Christ and the spouse with the Virgin Mary.[5]
The niches to either side of the Virgin and Christ contain sculptures of the Old Testament prophets Moses and Isaiah (?), at the top left and right respectively. At the lower left is an allegorical figure of Ecclesia (the Church), holding a cross and a chalice as her attributes, while at the lower right another figure represents Synagogue, shown blindfolded and carrying the tablets of the Law. The representation of these two figures signifies the triumph of the Church over the Synagogue and over the Jews who do not recognize Christ.
This is also the theme of the far larger and more detailed
Fountain of Grace, produced by the workshop of Jan van Eyck about 1440–50 (Museo Nacional del Prado, Madrid; see fig. 1 above), and a later sixteenth-century copy, attributed to Cristóbal de Velasco (Allen Memorial Art Museum, Oberlin, Ohio).[6] Although the upper part of the Gothic tower over the Virgin in The Met’s painting was cut off at an unknown date, what remains of the architecture is reminiscent of the central Gothic tower over Christ in the Prado painting with lateral niches filled with sculptures. Christ, like the Virgin, inhabits a niche, enthroned before a cloth of honor. Looking more closely, the Virgin’s cloth of honor in blue silk brocaded with gold is identical to the pattern of the red velvet brocaded with gold behind the figure of John the Evangelist in the Fountain of Grace (Bruyn 1957, figs. 2–3). In a certain sense, The Met’s painting reduces the elaborate presentation of the Prado painting to the essential message of the Church triumphant over the Synagogue, but here with the Virgin and Child as its theological focus.[7]
There was an ardent devotion to the Virgin in Flanders during the late fifteenth century, due in part to the region’s many Marian relics that became an impetus for a wide variety of depictions of her in all media. The affectionate embrace of the mother and child in the present example is ultimately derived from Byzantine icons that circulated in the Low Countries, imported during the fifteenth century when they were installed in churches and collected by the dukes of Burgundy and the nobility.[8] The pose of the Virgin and Child is known as the highly popular Eleousa type, or Virgin of Tenderness, which was produced in Byzantine mosaics and panel paintings (see The Met,
2008.352).[9] Early Netherlandish painters did not copy these examples exactly. Instead, they adapted the static, iconic presentation of Byzantine icons to more naturalistic flesh and blood representations of human beings. Jan van Eyck led the way with his particular reformulation of the Eleousa Virgin in the
Virgin and Child at the Fountain of 1439 (Koninklijk Museum voor Schone Kunsten, Antwerp, fig. 4), the figures of which are closely copied in the present painting -- that is, except for the left arm of the Child that embraces the Virgin rather than hanging down to the side, holding a rosary, and the red rather than blue robe of the Virgin. Perhaps inspired by a particular Byzantine icon, Van Eyck’s rendition became popular in its own time and beyond. The entire painting as well as the motif of the Virgin and Child were produced in fifteenth-century copies by followers of Van Eyck locally and abroad in France and even Southern Germany (figs. 5-7).[10] Still popular in Van Eyck’s Bruges in the early sixteenth century, the motif of the Virgin and Child was incorporated in paintings by artists such as Gerard David (see The Met,
1977.1.1 and fig. 8) and Adriaen Isenbrant (Private collection, fig. 9). Patrons may have specifically requested the copies, hoping for the trickle-down effect of the perceived benefits—whether curative for the spirit or for particular afflictions of the body—that devotion to these images could provide. Perhaps indulgences were attached to some of these modern-day icons, thus providing the promise of an individual’s delivery to Paradise from a lengthy stay in purgatory.
The Attribution and Date: The Met’s painting was first attributed to Jan van Eyck because of the near-identical figures found in his
Virgin and Child at the Fountain of 1439 (Nieuwenhuys 1843; fig. 4). By the end of the nineteenth century, it was thought to be by Van Eyck’s closest follower in Bruges, Petrus Christus (Kaemmerer 1898), although Friedländer (1924) regarded it as falling stylistically between the two artists. The association with the works of Van Eyck is understandable not only for the close copy of the motif of the Virgin and Child from the Antwerp painting, but also for the relationship with the ecclesiastical architecture and pattern of John’s cloth of honor, as well as the iconography of the Prado
Fountain of Grace.
Contemporary variants on the popular theme of the Virgin and Child in a Niche are found in Rogier van der Weyden’s oeuvre, namely the
Standing Madonna of about 1430–32 (Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna; fig. 10), the
Virgin and Child Enthroned of about 1433 (Museo Nacional Thyssen-Bornemisza, Madrid; fig. 11), and the
Durán Madonna of about 1435–38 (Museo Nacional del Prado, Madrid; fig. 12). The Met’s painting shares with these examples not only the general idea of the Virgin and Child in a niche but also the architectural motifs appearing in Rogier’s paintings, although not in the specific arrangement of forms exhibited therein. Perhaps also closely connected to the design of The Met’s painting is an Eyckian drawing of an Annunciation (Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel, Cod. Guelf. Extravaganza 210, f. 472; fig. 13), at the left depicting the pillars of the church’s exterior that are similar to the details of The Met’s painting (Bruyn 1957, pp. 124–26, Borchert 2016, p. 84; 2018, p. 111). Such architectural models were available to painters through prints, such as one by the Master WA, or through other paintings featuring such details (see Anonymous,
Architectural Fragment, about 1460–80, Musées des Arts Décoratifs, Paris; Borchert 2018, pp. 110–11). The top portion of The Met’s painting has been cut and can be determined to be missing about 8.5 cm (see Technical Notes). Thus, the side spires likely would have appeared complete, but the central gable would still have been truncated. Perhaps this portion was augmented by framing tracery elements.
Although The Met's painting was previously thought to date around 1500 (see Technical Notes), the composition, architectural motifs, and specific details of the brocade pattern suggest a date earlier in the fifteenth century. Moreover, there are notable stylistic connections when The Met’s painting is compared to the Van Eyck workshop copy of the
Virgin and Child at the Fountain of about 1440 (Private collection, New York; fig. 5).[11] Although not painted by the same artist, the two works share the same Eyckian motif of the Virgin and Child (except for the proper left arm of the child) and are stylistically so similar that they may have originated from the same workshop around the same time (compare figs. 5, 14). Both The Met and the private collection paintings were made with semi-integral frames, the lateral members integral with the painted panel and the top and bottom members engaged (see Technical Notes). Both show remnants of greenish paint associated with the frames, The Met’s painting in particular revealing two layers of greenish paint, a lighter green followed by a more translucent green, suggesting perhaps an imitation of a green stone, a finish similar to those we find in Van Eyck and Petrus Christus original painted frames. The flesh areas are thinly applied with warm glazes and selective use of lead white, and in both paintings the heads and hands were emphasized with contours painted with a darker brown paint. Similarly, highlights were worked in on the strands of the Virgin’s hair and in the golden brocade cloths of honor in a manner that imitates Van Eyck’s studied rendering of how light models form and is reflected by different materials. Given all of these connections with Eyckian models, style, and technique, the
Virgin and Child in a Niche most likely was produced in close association with Van Eyck’s workshop in Bruges about 1440–50, at the end of Van Eyck’s life or soon thereafter.
Maryan W. Ainsworth 2023
[1] Carol Purtle,
The Marian Paintings of Jan van Eyck, Princeton, 1982, p. 141.
[2] Purtle 1982, p. 7. See also, Carla Gottlieb, “’En ipse stat post parietm nostrum’: The Symbolism of the Ghent Annunciation,”
Bulletin des Musées Royaux des Beaux-Arts de Belgique 19 (1970), pp. 79ff.
[3] Christian Heck (1996) noted that the text on the canopy (Genesis 28:17) also relates to Jacob’s dream and of the ladder that rises from earth to heaven, supporting the angels of God who descend and ascend on it. In his sermon
De beata Maria Virgine, Saint Bernard writes: “She is the ladder…the door…She is Jacob’s ladder…By these rungs the angels go up, and men ascend” (
Patrologia Latina, vol. 184, col. 1016).
[4] Purtle 1982, p. 105 and passim.
[5] Rupert of Deutz,
Commentaria in Cantica, in Patrologiae cursus completes, series Latina, ed., J. P. Migne, Paris, 1844–55, vol. CLXVIII, pp. 839–963.
[6] See José Juan Preciado,
La Fuente de la Gracia, Una Tabla del Entorno de Jan van Eyck, Madrid, Museo Nacional del Prado, 2018.
[7] Pierre Quarré proposed that an intriguing architectural fragment (Paris, Musée des Arts Décoratifs) in the richly ornamented Gothic style was originally part of a painting depicting the Virgin and Child, which he alleged was installed in one of the ducal chapels of the Chartreuse of Champmol in Dijon (Quarré 1957, p. 62). Although the architectural fragment and the setting of The Met painting are not closely related, he suggested that the fragment could have come from a painting that looked something like The Met’s
Virgin and Child in a Niche. See also, Stephan Kemperdick in “Jan van Eyck’s ‘Madonna in a Church’ and its Artistic Legacy,” in Maximiliaan Martens et al.,
Van Eyck, An Optical Revolution, Ghent, 2020, pp. 260–83, esp. pp. 271–73.[8] Maryan W. Ainsworth, “À la façon grèce: The Encounter of Northern Renaissance Artists with Byzantine Icons,” in Helen Evans, ed.,
Byzantium: Faith and Power (1261–1557), New York, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2004, pp. 545–55.
[9] Ainsworth 2004, pp. 578–93; Katrien Lichtert, “The Mother God of Tenderness: The Introduction and Dissemination of an Iconic Image in Early Netherlandish Art,” in Bernard Coulie, ed.,
Paths to Europe: From Byzantium to the Low Countries, Milan 2017, pp. 116–29; see also Larry Silver, “Eyckian Icons and Copies,” in Magdalena Bellavitis, ed.,
Making Copies in Europen Art 1400-1600: Shifting Tastes, Modes of Transmission, and Changing Contexts, Leiden and Boston, 2018, pp. 130–64.
[10] For the South German painting, see entry by Stephan Kemperdick in Katrin Dyballa and Stephan Kemperdick,
Netherlandish and French Paintings 1400–1480 in the Gemäldegalerie Berlin, forthcoming.
[11] The technical examination of the private collection painting is discussed in Livia Depuydt-Elbaum and Paul Vandenbroeck in “Jan van Eyck Madonna at the Fountain,”
Restoration, Koninklijk Museum voor Schone Kunsten, Antwerp, vol. 2, no. 1, 2002, pp. 18–24.