Mary Magdalene - her image

This article was written in response to a request from a great friend in Italy; she had remarked after reading my article on different representations of the Resurrection1, that she would like to read something about the images of Mary Magdalene. So, here goes! 

Mary Magdalene or Mary of Magdala is so called because she is thought to have come from a small town of that name on the Sea of Galilee. Representations of this Mary have been conflated over the centuries from mentions of various Marys in the Gospels into what might be called the 'typical' image of her, i.e. a usually youngish attractive woman with long hair, often holding or having nearby a small jar supposed to contain an expensive oil or ointment; she is nearly always shown in an attitude of penitence or submission. 

This particular amalgam of attributes - (erotically) attractive, long luxurious hair, the oil jar, the contrition - was, so to speak, congealed under the influence of a 5th century pope, Gregory the Great, who decided that Mary of Magdala should be used as the model of the repentant, once 'fallen' woman, reformed from her previous ways and, importantly, subservient to the will of the Church. In fact however, the person most likely identifiable as the Biblical Mary of Magdala was almost certainly not a 'fallen' woman (the one who had seven demons cast out) and possibly had nothing to do with events ascribed to diverse women, such as the washing of Christ's feet - and its drying with long flowing hair - or the anointing of his head with the expensive oil. Her image then, both literal and metaphorical, has been cobbled together from references which are themselves vague, confusing and overlapping.

What is not in doubt is that Mary of Magdala, named specifically, was present at two of the most significant events of Christian belief: first, at the Crucifixion (John, 19) and then, at the Resurrection (or, at least, immediately subsequent to it: John, 20). These facts in themselves tell us something of the importance of Mary, amongst other women, to the Christian story. Of course, her presence at these two events in particular, may be partly due to the possibility that women were less likely to be suspect than men were at that time, and given that things were then obviously dangerous for Christ and his followers, it is not surprising that, whereas it was wiser for males to make themselves scarce, females were still able to appear in public. Nevertheless, it remains true that Mary of Magdala was indeed present. 

What to me is of more import though, is her presence and role at the immediate aftermath of the Resurrection: it was she who alerted the male followers of Jesus to his being missing from the tomb and it was she to whom Jesus spoke first after the catastrophic event. Jesus said to her after she had eventually recognized him, "Don't touch me!" or, as in Latin, "Noli me tangere!" This latter expression in Latin is significant for our purposes because it is the title used in Italian art representing this very event; apparently Mary had not recognized Jesus immediately and had mistaken him for the gardener, asking him where they had taken the body of Christ. Jesus had responded "Mary!" and she, after finally recognizing him, reached out to touch him; whereupon, he said "Noli me tangere!". There are many representations of this scene in Italian painting and a number in sculpture.

A brief remark at this point concerning 'attributes' in understanding works of art: attributes are agreed identifying signs or symbols used by artists but determined by the Church, to distinguish the 'actors' in their (usually) religious works. Saint Peter as an example, is always identifiable by the 'keys of heaven' which he carries; Saint John the Baptist, often accompanied by a lamb, is distinguished by his goat-skin clothing and his reed cross, normally supporting a scroll with the words: "Ecce Agnus Dei ... etc.". In the case of Mary Magdalene, as mentioned above, she is identified by several attributes: her visible long often blond hair, an expensive-looking jar containing an expensive oil, her normally red clothing (as distinct from the Madonna's blue) and a strong psychological element, her contrite or penitent manner.

Now, let's begin our examination of images with an extraordinary one, a wooden sculpture by the Florentine Donatello, one of the greatest of Renaissance sculptors.

Donatello: The Penitent Mary Magdalene, c. 1454 (Pope-Hennessy, 1993); polychrome wooden sculpture. Made for the Baptistry of Florence, now in the Museo dell'Opera del Duomo, Florence (photo: the author)

The first thing which strikes the viewer about this large and wonderful work by Donatello - apart from its almost modern quality - is that the Magdalene is shown not as a subtly seductive young woman, albeit a 'reformed' one, but rather as a sad hermit, dressed in an animal hide, gaunt from her evident fasting and, probably, still lamenting her supposed sordid past. A model for those seeking salvation after perhaps a mis-spent youth! It is obvious that Donatello, always the independent interpreter, has ignored all but one of Mary's attributes, i.e. her visible long hair; she seems not young and is definitely no kind of a 'femme fatale'. As a work of art, extraordinary2.

The next image is of a somewhat earlier date and of a somewhat more conventional nature: it represents one of the events mentioned in the introduction and that is the 'Noli me tangere' episode. It was painted by one of the great Sienese artists of the late medieval period, Duccio (di Buoninsegna). In one of the panels of his huge Maestà, we see Mary Magdalene, very modestly clothed, apparently beseeching the gardener for information about the missing body of her beloved saviour; in fact, it's not clear whether she has recognized Jesus or not and Christ has not extended his arm in the traditional way, to indicate to her not to touch him. We recognize Mary only because of the narrative context.

Duccio: Noli me tangere, c. 1308 to at least 1311 (Giovanna Ragionieri, 1989), tempera and gold on  panel; a detail of the Maestà in the Museo dell'Opera at Siena (photo: the author)

To note in particular about this image are the gold leaf backdrop, the conventional symbolic landscape background with conventional trees, as well as the basically theatrical 'staging' of the event: although Mary Magdalene is shown more or less in profile, the bulk of her figure with its large red cloak creates a large 'readable' mass; Christ is shown frontally with his head turned towards Mary, together with a slight lean of his upper body in her direction (note the folds of his garments picked out in gold, a reminiscence of Byzantine manners). We have therefore an easily legible scene, with one figure on the left of centre and another on the right, both on the front of the 'stage'; the space separating these two figures allows the glance to pass between them and a place let's say, in which to interpose the well-known dialogue. Duccio has masterfully mirrored the downward gaze of Christ towards Mary in the slopes of the background rocks, thereby adding a kind of kinetic quality to the whole image.

Let's have a look now at another sculpture, also absolutely extraordinary and this time in Bologna. It is the work of Niccolò dell'Arca, an artist from Puglia, born sometime around 1435 and who died in 1494. He is responsible for important works in Bologna but perhaps his most famous is the Compianto su Cristo morto (in Italian) or the Lamentation over the Dead Christ. It is a  work showing a group of figures, all displaying various attitudes of grief and horror at the sight of the dead Saviour; one of the most exceptional features of this masterpiece is that the life-sized figures are made in terracotta. I have chosen a photo not of the whole group but rather of a detail of the horrified Magdalene, an extraordinary rendering of grief and shocked disbelief.  These figures are 'uncomposed' so to speak, apparently rushing towards the dead body, their clothes and gestures in disarray, blown by the wind or dishevelled by the abrupt movements; outstretched arms and refusing hands articulate the very physical display of deep crushing emotion. Interestingly, Niccolò has not shown Mary Magdalene with any of her usual attributes and in particular, she has her hair completely covered. This is noteworthy since the fact of having uncovered hair, as she is normally shown, is thought to be a reference to her supposed licentious past; it was believed that in the (Roman) Province of Judea of her time, respectable women did not go into public with their hair uncovered.

Niccolò dell'Arca: Lamentation over the Dead Christ (detail), 1460 or later; life-sized free-standing terracotta figures. In the Sanctuary of Santa Maria della Vita, Bologna. Mary Magdalene is believed to be the figure on the right here, but the figure on the left is just as extraordinary (photo: the author)

Now we might have a look at another work, a painting this time, kept at the Uffizi in Florence. It is the work of a not so well-known artist named Gherardo di Giovanni who lived between about 1445 and 1497. This painting is an example of a type called in Italian 'Sacra Conversazione', which translates to 'sacred conversation'; this type of image usually contains the centrally placed Madonna and Child surrounded by various saints3. In our picture, we have Mary Magdalene on the extreme right and this time, apart from being very beautiful, portrayed with three of her normal attributes: her long flowing blond (or red?) hair, the oil jar in her right hand, and her red clothing. The oil jar is a reference to two different stories concerning perhaps two different women who, in one case, washed Christ's feet using a very expensive oil, and in the other, anointed his head with it. Both events caused consternation among the onlookers, something which elicited a rebuke (to them) from Jesus, which circumstance therefore caused the oil jar to become mixed-up with the Magdalene legend and, subsequently, to appear in many images of her. I have included this picture as much as anything else because of the way the Magdalene is painted, extremely delicately and seemingly very young, in a most beautiful red dress, with a lighter red shawl on top; she is in clear contrast to both Donatello's Penitent Magdalene and to Niccolò dell'Arca's Lamentation discussed above. 

Gherardo di Giovanni: Madonna and Child with Saints, 1470 -75 (?), tempera on wood,  194 x 177cm. Galleria degli Uffizi, Florence (photo: the author)

The next image is a detail from another painting called Lamentation over the Dead Christ by a painter known as Giottino or Giotto di Stefano. In the lower right corner we see Magdalene seated beside the head of the dead Christ, clearly absorbed in her own sorrow, her cheeks red from crying. This view of Mary also presents a strong contrast to the earlier (?) sculpture by Niccolò dell'Arca: Giottino's Mary is relatively speaking, physically composed, her attitude one of wanting to be left alone. Her immensely expressive face however, expressive in a completely different way and of a completely different set of emotions, is as powerful in its quiet way as is that of Niccolò's Mary. This Mary appears almost angry, resentful about the turn of events; she does not look weak or resigned as in some other images, but stoic almost. She is identifiable by her long wavy blond hair, and perhaps too by the not uncommon red she wears.

Giottino (Giotto di Stefano): Lamentation over the Dead Christ, (detail) c. 1360-65, tempera on wood. Galleria degli Uffizi, Florence (photo: the author)

Piero della Francesca also painted a picture of Mary of Magdala, a fresco in the Duomo or cathedral of Arezzo. This image is a little unusual in the iconography of Mary Magdalene in that she is obviously an independent strong woman, apparently untroubled with reflections on her past. She stands, in sharp contrast to our last image, rather more like a queen, a fully self-composed woman surveying the world as though from a private balcony. She has the attributes of the uncovered long hair (not blond) and the beautiful crystal oil jar; she is posed, modestly dressed, not quite full-frontally to the viewer and is framed by an arch decorated in a typically Piero manner. This Magdalene, like nearly all of Piero della Francesca's women, is cool almost aloof, self-contained, independent - unconcerned with us! Piero seems to be saying that here is a strong, statuesque proud woman, proud of her new condition as a viable witness of the events of her saviour's life.

Piero della Francesca: Mary Magdalene, 1462-64 (?), fresco, 190 x 105cm. Duomo, Arezzo (photo: the author)

There are many, many images of Mary Magdalene, especially in Italian art, which we've been looking at in this article, but she was a favourite also in Netherlandish art and her fascination has continued into modern media such as film and television, not to mention literature, often however, more recently, of dubious 'historical' worth. Whether or not a work of art on this subject is at all historical, in so far as Biblical stories may be considered 'history', is rather a moot point since, as we have seen in this article, most artists have kept to the dogma of the Church, or, even when they have attempted to be more independent, have still managed to propagate either a myth or a confusion of references.

The 'real' Mary of Magdala, like so many 'historical' figures whom we adopt for various personal reasons, probably best remains as that figure which we have constructed in our own minds and who satisfies the desires we have of him or her. I would like to know more about the 'real' Mary Magdalene but, for the time being, I am satisfied to experience her through the interpretations of great artists and for their art works to stimulate me in the ways that they do; in this case, using the story of Mary (and its manipulation) as a springboard for further contemplation of ideas about regret. Great works of art, and even minor ones sometimes, draw us into their creator's interpretive world and, in so doing, often provide us with a complex of associations through which we can begin to formulate our own particular understanding; that is to say, art generates a context into which we may mix our ideas, or from which we may develop new ones. The present article has only touched on a very small number of examples of the image of Mary of Magdala in Italian art but many other artists, such as Michelangelo, Pontormo (via Michelangelo), Titian and so on, have dealt with this subject as well.

1 On this blog, 'A review of similarities and differences in representations of the Resurrection of Christ with regard to that by Piero della Francesca', September, 2017.  

2 It seems that one explanation of the 'hermit' Mary Magdalene is that her legend became conflated with that of a later Mary, Saint Mary of Egypt (d. about 421 AD): this Mary was indeed a prostitute who later repented of her past and became a desert hermit. Her story tells of her clothes eventually disintegrating and she ending up looking somewhat like Donatello's interpretation of the older Mary of Magdala.

3 Although not an entirely successful image, Gherardo's does suggest one or two general observations concerning the type it represents. First, given the hierarchical requirements of such an image, we can see that none of the heads is higher than, nor on the same level as, the Madonna's; and secondly, the very existence of such images, and their ubiquitous diffusion, has always puzzled me: if God (or Jesus) is the One, the indivisible, why is it necessary (or licit) to go through the Madonna, why not pray directly to Jesus (which of course one can do)? This intermediary status of the mother of Jesus has succeeded in transmuting her into a secondary god. Perhaps this need for an intermediary has something to do with the structure of ancient Mediterranean cultures, with patronage and so on. In those societies and more particularly in that of Rome, ordinary people depended on the rich and powerful (patrons) to improve their lot but, because they were not of a certain rank or class, were unable to approach directly those at the top. According to their station in life, they had to go through intermediaries to obtain whatever they were seeking. Perhaps this cult of the Virgin, the Madonna as an intercessor, enjoyed a kind of 'given' status in those societies, right up to the 20th century. For many, it was quite obvious to ask for the intercession of a 'lesser' personage on one's behalf vis-à-vis the higher personage. Indeed, the Hail Mary has the phrase: 'Holy Mary Mother of God, pray for us ...' or, in Latin: 'Sancta Maria Mater Dei, ora pro nobis ...' 
Another example is the inscription in Latin on the frame of a masterpiece by Filippino Lippi in the Badia of Florence, The Apparition of the Virgin to St. Bernard: 'In rebus dubis Mariam cogita Mariam invoca'.