- 1 Ainsworth 2010, cat. 14, p. 166–168; 15, p. 168–170; 16, p. 170–173; 20, p. 184–186.
1The recent reappearance of the long-lost Virgin and Child with a Book by Jan Gossart (fig. 1), held in a private collection in Prague, raises several intriguing questions. Notably, it invites consideration of the highly individualised treatment of the prominently displayed, tightly cropped figures, and what this signifies within the context of the artist’s oeuvre. It is impossible to overlook that the Prague Virgin appears far more homely than the idealised Virgin types in Gossart’s works of the 1520s, such as the Virgin and Child paintings in the Art Institute of Chicago, the Prado in Madrid, the Cleveland Museum of Art, and the Berlin Gemäldegalerie, to name a few (fig. 2).1 Compared with these highly stylised figures, the Prague Virgin features a fuller face, chunky cheeks, an exaggerated cupid’s-bow mouth, and a prominently dimpled chin. Her head rests on a thick neck that extends into stocky shoulders and an ample body – more akin to a sturdy Hausfrau than to the revered Mother of Christ. This characterisation extends to the Child, who, although somewhat closer to Gossart’s usual depictions of infants, appears even more natural, with his exceptionally chubby body, fragile hair, and full, pudgy face. Furthermore, what is quite remarkable for Gossart is the intimacy conveyed between mother and child: the way her body leans forward and slightly down, seemingly enfolding him, while the child leans backwards as he reaches up towards her. Her arms open out to surround him as their gazes meet – a significant departure from Gossart’s typical style.
[Fig. 1]
Jan Gossart, Virgin and Child with a Book, c. 1520, oil on oak panel, 40 × 29 cm (Private Collection, Prague).
Photo courtesy of Martin Zlatohlávek.
[Fig. 2]
Jan Gossart, Virgin and Child, c. 1525–1530, oil on oak panel, 47.6 × 37.7 cm (Staatliche Museen zu Berlin, Gemäldegalerie, inv. 650).
© Staatliche Museen zu Berlin, Gemäldegalerie.
- 2 Provenance information provided by the owner: acquired in the 1920s by the prominent Prague banker (...)
- 3 My thanks to Maximiliaan Martens for this information, and for generously sharing the results of hi (...)
2This high level of individualisation and intimacy between the figures may explain why the attribution of the painting to Gossart has been questioned in the past. Max J. Friedländer’s opinion, recorded on the reverse of a photograph held in the archives of the Rijksbureau voor Kunsthistorische Documentatie (RKD), notes: ‘The painting portrayed on the reverse is an original by Jan Gossart. Berlin, April 2nd. 1931’. However, the panel has since remained largely unknown to the public, relegated to a kind of limbo.2 The Prague painting should not be confused with a copy that appeared at auction at Lempertz in Cologne on 21 May 2022 (lot 2008). Attributed to Jan Cornelisz Vermeyen by Maximiliaan Martens, it was sold to a private collector in Germany (fig. 3).3
[Fig. 3]
Attributed to Jan Cornelisz. Vermeyen, Virgin and Child, c. 1540–1545, oil on oak panel, 45.7 × 34.7 cm (Private Collection, Germany).
Photo courtesy of Maximiliaan Martens © Kunsthaus Lempertz / Photo: Saša Fuis Photographie, Cologne.
- 4 Emails to the author from Prague Art History Professor Martin Zlatohlávek of 16 July 2023.
- 5 Pigment analysis was carried out by Ing. Zuzana Valentová and Ing. Michal Pech, Academy of Fine Art (...)
3Since the RKD database in The Hague lists the Prague panel as the work of a Gossart imitator, it is important first to consider the attribution of the painting that has only recently undergone technical examination.4 The painting is executed on an oak panel and measures 40 × 29 cm. A strip of approximately 5 cm has been added to the right side – part of the restoration carried out in Berlin in 1931–1932. Otherwise, the painting is in good condition, although there is some abrasion to the book, and possibly slight modifications to the Virgin’s blue-grey robe, which may lack a red glaze that would have given it a more purplish hue.5
- 6 I am grateful to Nicholas Herman for the following observation: the ‘double-column layout is almost (...)
- 7 The other examples are in the Museo Nacional del Prado, Madrid, and the National Gallery of Art, Wa (...)
- 8 My thanks to Nicholas Herman for this observation. Email to the author, 13 December 2023.
- 9 There is abundant literature on this subject. Among the most relevant and helpful for this article (...)
- 10 Miles 2020, p. 83.
- 11 Ibidem, p. 83.
4In this tightly cropped image, the Virgin holds the wriggling Christ Child on her lap with her right hand, while turning the pages of a breviary with her left.6 One of only a few paintings by Gossart to depict the Virgin with an open devotional book,7 the size and prominence of the tome – indeed, its compositional equivalence to both the figure of the Christ Child and the Virgin’s large head – begs interpretation. Unfortunately, the abraded condition of the breviary prevents the text from being read, if it was ever originally intended to be legible. Nevertheless, it features a double-metal-bar bookmark with twinned blue and red (and possibly green) string markers looped to the lower bar. Different colours could be used to mark specific weekdays or other liturgical divisions in the text – that is, for praying the canonical hours, typically recited at seven fixed prayer times.8 Beyond serving as an exemplum for the viewer – showing the Virgin engaged in her daily devotions – medieval exegesis on the Holy Scriptures often equated the Virgin Mary with the book.9 Indeed, Mary’s reading was seen as a metaphor for the Incarnation, the means by which readers could directly access Christ in the world.10 As Laura Saetveit Miles has noted, the fourteenth-century Meditationes vitae Christi (24: 146–8) explains that it is through reading and meditation that God reveals himself. Meditation leads to revelation and communication between man and God, facilitated by the Christ Child – God made man.11
- 12 Brown 2018, p. 101.
- 13 Ibidem, p. 255.
- 14 Ibidem, p. 255.
5Earlier writers, such as the thirteenth-century Franciscan preacher Servasanctus of Faenza (d. c. 1300) – sometimes conflated with the group of authors known as the Pseudo-Bonaventure – also supported this belief. According to Servasanctus, Mary is ‘the mother of fair love, and of fear, and of knowledge, and of holy hope’; she is the path to the Creator because she is the book of life containing all creatures of creation. She herself promises, speaking as Wisdom: ‘They that explain me shall have life everlasting’ (Ecclesiasticus 24:31). Thus, Mary is the book of life, a mirror, and an example of the Creator.12 Richard of Saint-Laurent (d. c. 1250), a French theologian, is known for the De laudibus beatae Mariae Virginis, a praise of the Virgin Mary printed in 1473. Richard argued that Mary herself was a book representing the mysteries of God. As Rachel Fulton Brown has explained, ‘commenting on Matthew 1:1… Mary might be read as the book of the generation of Jesus Christ, the great book upon which the Lord commanded Isaiah to write (Isaiah 8:1), great in its dignity, in the depth of its learning, in the inscrutability of its sayings, in its difficulty and utility, etc.’13 She further explains that ‘the intention of this Mary-book… is to make peace between heaven and earth, reconcile sinners with the Son, and to make known to the sinner the will of God; thus she is called nostra mediatrix and advocata’.14
- 15 See Groag Bell 1982, p. 742˗768; Saint Jerome 1933, p. 243˗263; Labalme 1980.
- 16 For further on this subject, see Miles 2020, p. 79˗114.
6More generally – and as Jerome already affirmed in the fourth century – Christian moralists considered it the woman’s duty to provide their children, especially their daughters, with literary and moral education.15 This included instruction through the Holy Scriptures, the Psalter, Books of Hours, and lives of the saints. As a model for this, images of the Virgin Mary surrounded by books, or reading them, became increasingly popular during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. The Prague painting thus highlights these widely appreciated associations of Mary with books and as the exemplar of the scriptural reader.16
- 17 Among the much-discussed literature on this subject Leo Steinberg’s writing figures prominently, 19 (...)
- 18 Ibidem, p. 118ff. and passim.
7The holy figures appear to be seated in front of a parapet and behind a table, which supports a devotional book. As in most of Gossart’s Virgin and Child paintings, the Christ Child sits frontally on the Virgin’s lap and raises his left arm towards her chin. Known as the chin-chuck, this intimate gesture instantly identifies the woman who gave birth to the Son of God and marks her as His eternal consort in heaven.17 Christ’s right hand encloses His Mother’s right wrist, her hand resting near the Child’s genitals – a gesture that is both naturally intimate and possibly linked to Christian dogma. In Leo Steinberg’s interpretation, though not as clearly shown here, this gesture signifies Christ’s incarnation for humankind’s redemption from sin.18
- 19 Ainsworth 2010, cat. 9, p. 150˗154.
- 20 Ibidem, cat. 12, p. 160˗164.
8Despite earlier doubts about attributing this painting to Gossart, it aligns well with the oeuvre of the artist. The pose of the Christ Child, with his body facing the viewer across the Virgin’s lap while his Mother modestly gazes downward, is reminiscent of the Virgin and Child in the Prague St. Luke Drawing the Virgin (fig. 4). But the calm figures in the St. Luke painting from around 1515 do not compare to the lively and sturdy body forms in the Virgin and Child with a Book.19 For the more exaggerated poses, wriggling bodies, and dynamic movement demonstrated in the latter, we must look to the later Vienna St. Luke Drawing the Virgin from around 1520–1522 (fig. 5).20 Here, nothing about the painting is restrained – the figures and their turbulent draperies seem to whirl around Luke’s centrally placed drawing as if in a vortex. Furthermore, the angels and the Christ Child, with their chubby bodies and sharply defined bulges of flesh, closely resemble the Christ Child in the Prague painting. These exaggerated forms were already prepared in the underdrawing, where calligraphic swirls – likely in black chalk – vigorously define the contours of the robust forms, with short, confident strokes outlining each ripple and bulge of the body. The preliminary sketches vividly depict the figures’ movement, with their flailing arms and legs, conveying the exuberance of the paintings (fig. 6a–c).
[Fig. 4]
Jan Gossart, St. Luke Drawing the Virgin, c. 1515, oil on oak panel, 230 × 205 cm (Národní Galerie, Prague, on loan from the Metropolitan Chapter of St. Vitus, inv. VO 1261).
© The Metropolitan Chapter / Photo: Adam Pokorný, Národní Galerie v Praze.
[Fig. 5]
Jan Gossart, St. Luke Drawing the Virgin, c. 1520–1522, oil on oak panel, 109.5 × 82 cm (Kunsthistorisches Museum, Gemäldegalerie, Vienna, inv. 894).
© KHM—Museumsverband, Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna, Michael Eder, Ingrid Hopfner.
[Fig. 6a–c]
Infrared reflectography (IRR) showing the underdrawing of angels in St. Luke Drawing the Virgin (a and c) compared to the underdrawing of the Christ Child in Virgin and Child with a Book (b).
© IRR Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna, Michael Eder, Ingrid Hopfner (a and c); IRR Photo courtesy of Martin Zlatohlávek (b).
- 21 See Borchert 2024.
- 22 Such bold, emphatic outlining of forms ˗ sometimes gone over repeatedly for the sake of clarity ˗ i (...)
9Perhaps no better comparison conveys the same lively movement of the Christ Child – and highlights the differences between the two depictions of the Virgin – than the Prague Virgin and Child and the little-known Virgin and Child from the Liechtenstein Collection, also from the 1520s (fig. 7).21 In dramatic close-up, the Christ Child figures – with their chubby bodies, sweet, mischievous faces, and thin, blond curls – are somewhat more alike to each other than the two Virgins, which display striking differences in their respective personalised and more idealised representations. That the two paintings are by the same artist is confirmed not only by their similar handling and surface painting technique, but also by their comparable underdrawings in black chalk. These are limited to quick, calligraphic lines outlining their forms, evident in the preliminary drawing for the two Christ Child figures (fig. 8).22
[Fig. 7a–b]
Comparison between the Christ Child in the Prague Virgin and Child (40 × 29 cm) (a) and the Virgin and Child from the Liechtenstein Collection (Jan Gossart, Virgin and Child, c. 1520, oil on oak panel, 19.3 × 14.2 cm, Collections of the Prince of Liechtenstein, Vienna and Vaduz, GE 2509) (b).
© Photo courtesy of Martin Zlatohlávek (a) and © LIECHTENSTEIN. The Princely Collections, Vaduz–Vienna (b).
[Fig. 8a–b]
Comparison between the underdrawing in the Christ Child of Virgin and Child with a Book (a) and the Liechtenstein Virgin and Child (b), as revealed by infrared reflectography.
IRR Photo courtesy of Martin Zlatohlávek and © CC-BY KIK-IRPA, Brussels, ir0008601.
10These distinct differences in the portrayal – especially of the Virgin – raise questions about the models Gossart used for his paintings. To what extent were they based on well-known individuals of the period? Documentary evidence for this practice appears in Carel van Mander’s statement in his 1604 Het Schilder-boeck:
- 23 Van Mander 1603-1604, edited by Miedema 1994, vol. 1, p. 160, 161, fol. 225v, lines 30˗35.
Among other things, when in the service of the Marquis of Veere,
Mabuse painted an image of Mary in which the face was painted
after the Marquis’s wife, and the little child after her child. The
piece is so outstandingly subtle, and painted so purely, that every-
thing else one sees by him appears crude by comparison. And there
was a blue drapery, so absolutely clear that it looked as if it were
freshly painted. This piece was later seen in Gouda with the Lord
of Froimont.23
11Several extant versions of a lost Virgin and Child by Gossart are believed to represent Anna van Bergen (1492–1541) and her son Hendrik (b. 1519). Anna was the wife of Adolf of Burgundy, Marquis of Veere and Admiral of Zeeland (c. 1489–1540), by whom Gossart was employed. The best example, in terms of both quality and condition, is considered to be the version at The Met, which is datable to around 1522 (fig. 9).24 The identification of these copies with Anna van Bergen’s likeness is, however, problematic, as a drawing identified as Anna van Bergen in the Recueil d’Arras, and a painted portrait of her by Gossart at the Clark Art Institute, Williamstown, Massachusetts, show some similarities, but also notable differences (fig. 10). 25
[Fig. 9–10]
Copy after Jan Gossart, Virgin and Child, c. 1522, oil on oak panel, 43.8 × 33 cm (The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, inv. 17.190.17).
Jan Gossart, Anna van Bergen, c. 1526–1530, oil on oak panel, 56 × 43.2 cm (Sterling and Francine Clark Art Institute, Williamstown, Mass., inv. 1968.297).
© The Met Open Source.
© Clark Art Institute, gift of the Executors of Governor Lehman’s Estate and the Edith and Herbert Lehman Foundation, 1968.297 Image courtesy Clark Art Institute, clarkart.edu.
12The overall shape and proportions of the heads are similar, including the double chin and the relatively thick neck. Both figures have green eyes and dark brown hair. However, the Clark Art Institute portrait shows a face with fuller cheeks, a thinner upper lip, and a larger, more pointed nose compared to the suggested counterpart in The Met painting. If the numerous copies of the Virgin and Child are indeed inspired by Anna van Bergen and her son Hendrik, then they are somewhat idealised. This raises the question of whether The Met painting and its related copies might depict a different mother and child, perhaps based on a model personally known to Gossart.
- 26 On this phenomenon see especially Polleross 1988 and 1991.
- 27 For the most recent discussion and debate about this identification, see Hand and Koppel 2017, cat. (...)
- 28 For the most recent discussion and debate about this identification, see Hand and Koppel 2017, cat. (...)
- 29 See Ainsworth 2010, cat. 36 and 38, p. 236˗237, 240˗242.
- 30 Sterk 1980, p. 226˗227.
13The practice of depicting ordinary mortals as holy figures developed during the mid-fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries, particularly in courtly circles.26 In such cases, individuals sought to be portrayed as revered saints to associate themselves with the virtuous traits or specific devotional qualities of those figures. Notably, there are several paintings of Margaret of Austria disguised as Mary Magdalen,27 and of Catherine of Aragon, likewise depicted as Mary Magdalen.28 In fact, the latter was among the most popular saints to be conflated with known persons. This was not only because she was believed to have come from royal lineage, but also, presumably, because she symbolised the female penitent saint, whose righteous actions inspired imitation. Gossart himself produced two images of Mary Magdalen, thought to be based on portraits of known individuals: one housed in the National Gallery, London, and the other – possibly representing Philip of Burgundy’s mistress and the mother of his three illegitimate sons – in the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston.29 This merging of saintly images with known persons is supported by the inventory of Philip of Burgundy’s castle at Wijk bij Duurstede, which lists ‘A painting of Saint Mary Magdalen [made] after another woman of Mechelen’.30
- 31 See Ainsworth 2010, cat. 40, p. 245˗249.
- 32 For a discussion of the dextrality of Netherlandish diptychs and exceptions to that rule, see van d (...)
14These examples all highlight the specific representation of female holy figures – such as the Virgin and various saints – in Gossart’s body of work. Some are clearly idealised, while others appear more personalised, as if to depict well-known individuals who may have served as models for the paintings, whether or not they were deliberately portrayed as embodying the admirable qualities of holy figures. One such example is the Virgin and Child, which occupies the right-hand position in the open Carondelet Diptych (Louvre, Paris), dated 1517 (fig. 11).31 This diptych showcases Gossart at the height of his portraiture skills. It exhibits a remarkable level of realism, rivalled only by the finest works of Jan van Eyck and Gossart’s contemporary Hans Holbein. As with the example from the Prague private collection, the depiction of the Virgin and Child is notably fresh, natural, and devoid of idealisation. The Child’s face bears an impish expression, set on a head with a very prominent forehead and an unusually long cranium. His blond, curly hair is sparse, typical of many newborns. His right hand, holding the Virgin’s left index finger, and his left hand, grasping her scarf, display very natural, childlike gestures. The Virgin’s face features exceedingly wide-set eyes, a distinctive long, straight nose with prominent nostrils, a natural mouth (not cupid’s-bow) that is very slightly open as if about to speak, and a double chin – all supported by a relatively broad neck. Although the identities of the models remain uncertain, the Virgin and Child may have been based on close acquaintances from Carondelet’s circle. If so, this could explain why Carondelet appears on the left side of the diptych and the Virgin and Child on the right – a reversal of the typical arrangement in early Netherlandish painting.32 This reversal suggests that the Virgin and Child may have been intended as portraits of specific individuals – hence their placement on the viewer’s right, rather than the customary left side of the diptych.
[Fig. 11]
Jan Gossart, Carondelet Diptych, 1517, oil on oak panel, each panel 42.5 × 27 cm (Musée du Louvre, Paris, inv. 1442 1443).
© Réunion des Musées Nationaux—Louvre / Art Resource, NY.
- 33 Turel 2011, p. 163˗182; and Turel 2020.
- 34 This ‘Pygmalion effect’ is perhaps nowhere more potently realised than in Jean Molinet’s 1489 epita (...)
15The slightly open mouth of the Virgin, barely showing her teeth (fig. 12), in the Carondelet Diptych, may hint at another of Gossart’s artistic concerns at the time – one that influences both the Carondelet Virgin and Child and the Prague Virgin and Child. This is the idea of “au vif” or “après le vif”, a modifier used in ekphrastic texts from 1350 to 1550. As Noa Turel has noted, these period terms for realism were understood differently in the Middle Ages than in the later period around 1600.33 Traditionally, “au vif” or “après le vif” has been interpreted as meaning “from life”, implying a direct, indexical link between the image and its subject. However, Turel argues that before 1550, ‘modifiers containing vif did not designate the indexical process but were the artists’ ability to enliven the images: pictures au vif were brought not from but to life.’ She supports this through close readings of French and Burgundian texts from the early period, revealing a different conceptual framework for pictorial naturalism in the fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries.34
[Fig. 12]
Jan Gossart, detail of the Virgin in the Carondelet Diptych.
© Réunion des Musées Nationaux—Louvre / Art Resource, NY.
- 35 For an extended discussion of these themes, see Ainsworth 2014.
- 36 Ainsworth 2010, p. 26 and cat. 1˗3, p. 114˗122.
16Turel’s theory aligns with certain features of Gossart’s oeuvre, notably his efforts to transform figures on a two-dimensional surface into illusions of three-dimensional, living beings – activating them within the real world. To address this challenge, he incorporated the meticulous study and assimilation of sculptural forms, along with the skilful application of perspective schemes.35 There is perhaps no better illustration of Gossart’s development in this respect than the comparison of three of his Eve figures from Adam and Eve paintings dated roughly to 1510, 1520, and 1525–1530, housed respectively in the Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza, Madrid; the Royal Collection, Windsor Castle; and the Gemäldegalerie, Staatliche Museen zu Berlin.36 The concept begins with the ideally proportioned figure of Eve, based on the principles of Vitruvius. By crossing Eve’s legs, twisting her body towards Adam, and applying chiaroscuro modelling, Gossart achieved a second stage in this progression – one that enhanced the sculptural quality of the figure. Ultimately, a fully realised understanding of the figure in the round – what one might call au vif – was attained by amplifying the sensuous, robust depiction of the nude body and animating the figure’s movement in more dynamic and intricate ways. The upper body pivots to our left, while the lower part turns to our right. The play of light across the body and the use of chiaroscuro effectively conveys three-dimensional form within a convincing spatial setting.
- 37 Ibidem, cat. 33, p. 226˗229.
- 38 Ibidem, cat. 34, p. 229˗232.
- 39 Ibidem, p. 28-29.
17Concurrent with these developments, Gossart further refined methods to make his figures appear alive and to ‘speak’ as intended. His 1521 Venus and Cupid (Royal Museums of Fine Arts of Belgium, Brussels) features a painted reprimand, spoken by Venus to Cupid, inscribed on its frame. Some visitors could view this frame, which carried an admonition concerning carnal pleasures. Still, for those more interested in the heightened erotic content of the female figure, the frame could be removed.37 Perhaps even more tantalising is Gossart’s Rovigo Venus (Pinacoteca dell’Accademia dei Concordi, Rovigo), which exemplifies the idea of sculpture coming to life.38 Here, the lessons learned during Gossart’s 1508–1509 trip to Rome contributed significantly to this mode of presentation. As Kathleen Wren Christian observed, poets in Pope Julius II’s entourage composed epigrams to be “spoken” by the ancient marbles in the pope’s highly acclaimed collection. This act of endowing sculptures with speech finds a compelling parallel in Gossart’s paintings and was likely a courtly practice that Gossart, along with his patron and travelling companion, Philip of Burgundy, encountered and perhaps adopted upon returning home as part of courtly amusements.39 In this light, Turel’s notion of au vif is elevated to a new conceptual level.
18Returning to the Prague Virgin and Child, we can now better understand its specific representation within the context of the artist’s broader body of work. The unusually detailed and individualised figures form part of Gossart’s wider strategy to imbue his holy beings with a convincing sense of life, enabling viewers to relate to them. Gossart employed several techniques to ensure that these figures would appear convincingly alive and emotionally accessible. The highly detailed depiction of the Prague Virgin strongly suggests that it was modelled on a woman known to the artist. Her face is unidealised, with a broad, full structure, chunky cheeks, an exaggerated Cupid’s-bow mouth, and a prominently dimpled chin. Her head is set upon a strong neck that merges into broad shoulders and a body of ample form. The success of Gossart’s animation of the Virgin and Child also drew upon contemporary ideas. These may have included the au vif concept, as articulated by Noa Turel, as well as Gossart’s new familiarity, gained during his trip to Rome and his encounter with Pope Julius II’s sculpture collection, with notions of animated, “speaking” sculptures. This interplay between contemporary individuals and skilfully crafted painted or sculpted figures, brought to life through a range of means, helps explain the exceptionally personalised depiction of the Prague Virgin and Child. It stands as one of Gossart’s most successful efforts of this kind within his painted oeuvre.