Jan van Eyck’s Illumination

New Interpretation of van Eyck’s Masterpiece

Victoria
Art Stories

--

Jan van Eyck’s Self-Aware Image

This time last year, the Boijmans museum in Rotterdam brought together Jan van Eyck’s brilliant paintings from all over Europe and the US. One of the highlights of The Road to van Eyck exhibition was a small Book of Hours, the only manuscript illuminated by the great Jan van Eyck. The so-called Turin-Milan Hours (c. 1450) was illuminated by many famous artists, but it was the miniature of The Birth of John the Baptist that caught my attention.

Jan van Eyck. The Birth of John the Baptist. Turin-Milan Hours. C. 1380-1450. 203×284 mm. Palazzo Madama, Italy

The more I discovered about the manuscript, the greater became my desire to see it. The Boijmans ARTtube did a wonderful job and drew me in with a mysterious story about the book:

This prayer-book once belonged to John of Bavaria and originally had 700 pages… According to historic accounts, John of Bavaria was MURDERED by his niece… She is said to have smeared the count’s prayer book with poison in June 1424. The pious John prayed every day and when he did so, he would flick through the pages with a finger he moistened in his mouth. By January 1425, he had consumed so much poison the he died. This story inspired Umberto Eco to write his famous novel The Name of the Rose.

This story sparked my imagination and I rushed to the museum to see the famous book. A murder mystery, a great artist, and a nostalgic fun memory of a younger me sitting in a dark theater watching the dashing Sean Connery and a very young Christian Slater investigating a series of mysterious deaths in an isolated abbey. I quickly glanced through the exhibition and went straight to the little book. Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t see anything. The light reflecting on the protective glass obscured my view, and a long line of impatient fellow visitors behind me made the experience less exciting.

There had to be a better way to see the miniatures. I searched online and was delighted to find that the current owner of the manuscript, Palazzo Madama, digitized van Eyck’s illumination. Click here to zoom-in

I spent some time admiring the miniature when suddenly I saw something that only the zoom-in button allowed me to see: a little boy looking at the viewer while pointing at something with his left hand.

Detail. Jan van Eyck. The Birth of John the Baptist. Turin-Milan Hours. C. 1380-1450. 203×284 mm. Palazzo Madama, Italy.

As I zoomed into the miniature I quickly realized that some elements here seemed more than familiar: * the canopy bed with red curtains, * the pointy shoes (pattens) in the left corner of the room, * the little dog, the wooden floor, * the female figure on the right all reminded me of the Arnolfini Portrait. Here she is holding a flask, but in the portrait she is holding Arnolfini’s hand.

Jan van Eyck. Arnolfini Portrait. 1434. Oil on oak. 82.2 x 60 cm. The National Gallery, London.

I had to find out when van Eyck made The Birth of John the Baptist miniature, and what was its connection to the Arnolfini Portrait?

The history of the manuscript is somewhat complicated, but I will try to keep things as simple as possible: The book was commissioned in 1389 by Jean, Duc de Berry (a great collector of illuminated manuscripts and precious objects). Many artists worked on this manuscript and even the famous Limbourg brothers illuminated two or three unusual prayers before they were commissioned to illustrate the Duc’s Belles Heures.

After the first 16 gatherings were complete the Duc put the Limbourgs brothers to work on his Belles Heures. A calendar was written and the first 16 gatherings were bound together as a basic Book of Hours. The Duc gave this book to his librarian, through whose family it descended until the 18th century, when it was finally acquired by no other than the Baron Rothschild. In 1952 Rothschild’s grandson gave this manuscript to the Biblitheque National.

The remaining gatherings were bought by John of Bavaria (also known as Jan van Bueren). These gatherings travelled with John to The Hague where he became the Count of Holland with Jan van Eyck as his painter. For five years van Eyck worked on the manuscript when his work was interrupted by John’s (suspicious) death in 1425. After John’s death, Jan van Eyck moved to Bruges, taking with him the unfinished manuscript. His work came to an end in 1441 when the painter died, and six years later the manuscript was finally finished.

Sometime between the 16th and the 19th century the book was split in two: one part came into the possession of an aristocratic family in Milan and the other went to the library in Turin. In 1904 a fire broke out in the library of Turin and the book was lost (only black and white photographs of the miniatures remained). After the fire and the unfortunate loss, the Turin library purchased the Milanese half = the so-called Turin-Milan Hours.

Now, let’s go back to the Arnolfini Portrait. The inscription above the mirror tells us that the painting was made in 1434, seven years before van Eyck’s death, while the manuscript was in his possession. The two paintings differ in their technique and the medium in which they were created, but it is impossible to ignore the similarities between the two paintings.

Detail. Jan van Eyck. Arnolfini Portrait. 1434. Oil on oak. 82.2 x 60 cm. The National Gallery, London.

Now let’s take a look at The Birth of John the Baptist. The little boy that caught my attention is pointing to the back of the composition where an old man sitting comfortably next to the window and flipping through the pages of his book.

The self-reflection in the Arnolfini Portrait is somewhat more obvious than it is here due to the use of a mirror. I wish to suggest that the self-reflective element exists in the miniature as well with a slight alteration. When van Eyck painted the Arnolfini Portrait it was intended for a very specific viewer, a viewer who would stand in front of a painting and admire the details. The Turin-Milan Hours on the other hand is a book intended to be read, while the illustrations were meant to help the prayer imagine in his mind’s eye the holy event of the birth of St John.

The figure of Zachariah (the old man) sitting in the back of the composition reading his book, reflects us (the reader) just as the mirror reflected the missing element of the composition (the spectator). Van Eyck includes the participant in his composition in a clever and unusual way, and by doing so demonstrates his great talent that still puzzles us over half a millennium after this book was illuminated.

By digitizing the page of the manuscript and the painting, the National Gallery in London and the Palazzo Madama allowed us to see these works of art and study them carefully. You can always visit these websites, perhaps you will be able to find an additional clue the artist left for future generations to unveil.

--

--

Victoria
Art Stories

Art historian, researcher & book enthusiast currently living in The Netherlands