One of the most commonly remarked objects in Piero della Francesca's Brera Altarpiece or the Pala Montefeltro, is the egg, often but mistakenly described as being suspended over the head of the Madonna. I have elsewhere (in this blog, see below) shown that the egg is not in fact above the Madonna's head but rather, behind it by some distance, albeit appearing to be over her head due to their mutual vertical alignment. However, the present article is not concerned with that optical conundrum but instead, with the origin of that egg.
 |
| The Brera Altarpiece or La Pala Montefelto, 1472-74 (?) by Piero della Francesca (c1412-92) Tempera and oil on panel, 251 x 172cm. Pinacoteca di Brera, Milan. Image Copyright: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Piero_della_Francesca_046.jpg |
In classical Greek mythology, Helen (of Troy) was, according to some, hatched from an egg laid by Leda as a consequence of her union with Zeus who had assumed the form of a swan; others, including Helen herself (in Euripides), say she was the daughter of Tyndareus, king of Sparta and husband of Leda, while still acknowledging the myth1. This event has for millenia been a subject for artists, that is to say, from pre-classical times up to the early 21st century. Helen was known for her beauty, a quality which, as a result of an agreement made between Paris and Aphrodite2, ultimately led to the Trojan War as told by Homer. Helen was also known for her intelligence, as seen in later Greek plays (again, in Helen by Euripides); nevertheless, generally, and particularly these days, Helen is known as an exemplar of the power of female beauty ('the face that launched a thousand ships', and so on).
But for our purposes, it is the 'fact' of Helen's having been born from an egg (perhaps a symbol of fertility) which is of interest; her myth is indicative of the antiquity of the role of the egg in Western culture. Although perhaps not the case in Helen's story, the egg signifies, amongst much else, wholeness or integrity, both in terms of its pristine condition (that is, original condition), and its 'geometric' purity or completeness. These qualities are appropriate as symbols not only for the Madonna but also, and perhaps more so - given the author of the Brera Altarpiece - in the physical surroundings in which this 'sacra conversazione' is taking place; in effect, Piero's painting, in its geometric purity, is an extraordinary example of the lately rediscovered rules of perspective drawing - in this case, an imagined representation of the crossing (the intersection of the nave and the transepts) of a highly classically-inspired Renaissance church interior3.
The egg of course, has various symbolic meanings, many originating long before the advent of Christianity, and belonging to cultures all over the world. In our picture, the symbolism of the future new life contained within the egg might refer to the appearance of the Saviour (the Christ-child in the Madonna's lap) and to his eventual Resurrection, coming out of the tomb-egg into a new life; its meaning as the source of the cosmos itself - or the ordering of Chaos - in creation myths, is also relevant to Christ as the Son of God the Creator; another clear attribute of the egg is its inherent female origin, another link to Mary as the bearer of the Christ who will clear away confusion and become the Light of the world. An important observation made by some historians is that the particular egg in the Brera Altarpiece is an ostrich egg: apparently believed in medieval times able to hatch without being fertilized, an obvious symbol of the Virgin birth4.
 |
| The Annunciation, 1442-48 (?), by Domenico Veneziano (c1410-1461) Tempera on panel, 27 x 54cm. The Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge, England. Image Copyright: The Fitzwilliam Museum. Public Domain Fair Use. |
The unbroken egg may also be related to two less obvious concepts often linked to Mary the Virgin, those being the hortus conclusus and the porta clausa, respectively, 'the closed (or walled) garden' and 'the closed door'5. The fairly self-explanatory symbolism of both of these Latin expressions was used in relation to the virginity of Mary, a condition pertaining even after she had given birth to Jesus! To reiterate a point made in Professor Edgerton's essay (see image above and Note 5), both a walled garden and a closed door were included in Renaissance images of the Annunciation, sometimes both in the same painting. The beautiful small predella picture (above) by Domenico Veneziano is one such example; it was once part of a group of similar paintings along the bottom - the predella - of his famous Saint Lucy Altarpiece, now in the Uffizi. Below is another typical example of an Annunciation, this one painted in 1487 by Piermatteo d'Amelia. In this picture however, it will be noted that in fact, the door in the garden wall in the deep background is open, another common variation, with its own significations6; the area beyond the cloister and before the red brick wall seems to represent part of a walled garden (a hortus conclusus).
 |
| The Annunciation, 1487, tempera (? ) on wood (?), now attributed to Piermatteo d'Amelia (c1445-1509) Collection: The Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, Boston. Image Copyright: the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum. Fair Use: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/ |
A feature of Piero della Francesca's egg is its brightness; lit from the left, that is, by the light entering from the (viewer's) left, and indeterminately from above, it is one of the brightest objects in the painting. Its position, suspended from the large shell - another symbol of the Virgin, and related to the birth of Aphrodite (Venus) - and catching the light as it does, not only makes a statement about its importance, but, from a formal point of view, reinforces the deep concave space of the half-lit shell itself; that is, it adds to the illusion of depth within the fictive space of the image. Incidentally, it will be noted that the barrel vault develops out of the wall where the shell is sitting and that that vault is behind the figures who occupy a space slightly further into the nave, beyond the transept: this must mean therefore, that the egg, suspended as it is from the shell, is also behind the Madonna and not suspended over her. In any case, it would appear then that the artist has put two symbols together (both pre-Christian), the egg and the shell, and the question which comes to my mind is, why has he isolated these elements from the group of the Madonna, the Child and the saints, why are they so important? And further, the architecture in which this event is taking place occupies a good half of the height of the image: why?
Another 'practical' or formal function of the egg in Piero's painting is that it denotes a measure of thirds (three being a sacred number). Viewing the image as a flat surface, the distance from the egg to the top of the Madonna's head is equal to one third of the distance between that point and the great arch at the near end of the barrel vault leading to the apse; that is, the measurements between the Madonna's head and the bottom of the egg, and from there to the top of the shell, and from there to the arch are equal. In addition, that measurement is also the radius of the semi-circle created by the structure supporting the shell; further, if that semi-circle is continued below, to form a circle, it touches the head of the Madonna. In effect, there is a perfect circle, a perfect geometric figure, implied in the space above her - the 'perfect' immaculate Mother of Christ.
Were the holy figures to be removed, we would still have Piero's very fine re-imagining of the interior of an ancient Roman basilica or a Roman baths of the type still to be seen in Rome today, and, for instance, at Hadrian's Villa, at Tivoli7. Essentially, without the figures, it becomes clear that the setting for this image is entirely pre-Christian, that is to say, pagan. And with no Christian 'actors', nor any purely Christian symbols, it would be quite easy to imagine the same space with a statue of Jupiter in it, or a Roman emperor wandering around. In this sense, Piero has re-purposed classical models for a Christian use, something the Catholic Church had already done, in Rome and elsewhere, not the least example being the Pantheon (in 609AD). The deliberate emphasis on the architectural setting (half the image) suggests that what was of principal interest here for the painter, that is for Piero, was not solely the creation of a religious icon; and to be more precise, even the architecture was possibly merely an excuse for, or a demonstration of, his explorations in the field he was devoted to, namely geometry. Without the figures, this picture would nevertheless remain a consummate example of perspective drawing, that is, geometry8.
Another 'practical' or formal function of the egg in Piero's painting is that it denotes a measure of thirds (three being a sacred number). Viewing the image as a flat surface, the distance from the egg to the top of the Madonna's head is equal to one third of the distance between that point and the great arch at the near end of the barrel vault leading to the apse; that is, the measurements between the Madonna's head and the bottom of the egg, and from there to the top of the shell, and from there to the arch are equal. In addition, that measurement is also the radius of the semi-circle created by the structure supporting the shell; further, if that semi-circle is continued below, to form a circle, it touches the head of the Madonna. In effect, there is a perfect circle, a perfect geometric figure, implied in the space above her - the 'perfect' immaculate Mother of Christ.
Were the holy figures to be removed, we would still have Piero's very fine re-imagining of the interior of an ancient Roman basilica or a Roman baths of the type still to be seen in Rome today, and, for instance, at Hadrian's Villa, at Tivoli7. Essentially, without the figures, it becomes clear that the setting for this image is entirely pre-Christian, that is to say, pagan. And with no Christian 'actors', nor any purely Christian symbols, it would be quite easy to imagine the same space with a statue of Jupiter in it, or a Roman emperor wandering around. In this sense, Piero has re-purposed classical models for a Christian use, something the Catholic Church had already done, in Rome and elsewhere, not the least example being the Pantheon (in 609AD). The deliberate emphasis on the architectural setting (half the image) suggests that what was of principal interest here for the painter, that is for Piero, was not solely the creation of a religious icon; and to be more precise, even the architecture was possibly merely an excuse for, or a demonstration of, his explorations in the field he was devoted to, namely geometry. Without the figures, this picture would nevertheless remain a consummate example of perspective drawing, that is, geometry8.
A final remark might be made concerning some of the formal or technical aspects of this picture. First, the panel itself has been cut down on three sides, that is, the left and right - but not too much - and the bottom, which has lost considerably more, obviously altering how we today 'read' the image compared with its pristine condition. Secondly, it has the generally light tone typical of the painting of Piero della Francesca, and this generally pale key in the architectural setting provides an excellent contrasting 'backdrop' to the figures, which are all, except for one or two points, much darker in tone. This pale setting also creates the effect of the open airiness of the whole ambience, another typical quality in Piero's work, first seen in his Baptism, now in London; this effect of openness and light airiness is here all the more remarkable as it is more typical of his outdoors scenes, such as, again, the Baptism. The lighting - and therefore the colour - brilliantly shapes and moulds the man-made structure, revealing precisely yet subtly the heavy masses and the open spaces; this is so well done that we are not at first conscious of the shadowed area in the deep left background which throws the egg into such airy relief.
1 See the entry under Helen in the Oxford Classical Dictionary, 1964, M.Cary et al. p408; and Helen, in Penguin Classics, Euripides: The Bacchae and Other Plays, trans. by Philip Vellacott, 1973.
2 ibid: Penguin Classics, Helen, p136.
3 Ronald Lightbrown, in Piero della Francesca, 1992, Abbeville Press, on p251 disputes the appellation 'church' preferring instead curia coeli, a Latin phrase meaning the 'court of heaven'. He maintains that the setting of Piero's altarpiece is actually Heaven itself, with members of the heavenly court present; given that, there would obviously be no need for a church building there. This does make sense but then he is happy for the Christ Child to be in the painting (p252) even though he had also claimed that in the heavenly court, Christ (the King) would be seated together with God the Father and the Holy Ghost (p246). Although it was not exactly unusual to have the same personage represented more than once in religious images, particularly in later Medieval art, normally each representation of a given actor (within the one image) signified a temporal and/or location change; that is, this type of image was a narration, with various apparitions, of a series of related events: see for instance the ceiling of the Spanish Chapel (Il Cappellone degli Spagnoli) at Santa Maria Novella in Florence, painted by Andrea di Bonaiuto in 1365-67, and in particular, the scenes surrounding the Resurrection. Piero's painting appears to represent only one event. Finally, if indeed the surroundings are those of Heaven itself, why has Piero bothered to include the spaces of the transepts, why not simply leave the scene open, as though it were a stage-set?
See also the discussion (by Francesco P. Di Teodoro) and an excellent visual reconstruction (by the editors) of Piero's Montefeltro architecture on pp106-7 in Piero della Francesca: La seduzione della prospettiva, by F. Camerota and F. P. Di Teodoro (editors), catalogue of the homonymous exhibition at Sansepolcro, 2018-19, published by Marsilio.
3 Ronald Lightbrown, in Piero della Francesca, 1992, Abbeville Press, on p251 disputes the appellation 'church' preferring instead curia coeli, a Latin phrase meaning the 'court of heaven'. He maintains that the setting of Piero's altarpiece is actually Heaven itself, with members of the heavenly court present; given that, there would obviously be no need for a church building there. This does make sense but then he is happy for the Christ Child to be in the painting (p252) even though he had also claimed that in the heavenly court, Christ (the King) would be seated together with God the Father and the Holy Ghost (p246). Although it was not exactly unusual to have the same personage represented more than once in religious images, particularly in later Medieval art, normally each representation of a given actor (within the one image) signified a temporal and/or location change; that is, this type of image was a narration, with various apparitions, of a series of related events: see for instance the ceiling of the Spanish Chapel (Il Cappellone degli Spagnoli) at Santa Maria Novella in Florence, painted by Andrea di Bonaiuto in 1365-67, and in particular, the scenes surrounding the Resurrection. Piero's painting appears to represent only one event. Finally, if indeed the surroundings are those of Heaven itself, why has Piero bothered to include the spaces of the transepts, why not simply leave the scene open, as though it were a stage-set?
See also the discussion (by Francesco P. Di Teodoro) and an excellent visual reconstruction (by the editors) of Piero's Montefeltro architecture on pp106-7 in Piero della Francesca: La seduzione della prospettiva, by F. Camerota and F. P. Di Teodoro (editors), catalogue of the homonymous exhibition at Sansepolcro, 2018-19, published by Marsilio.
4 Piero della Francesca: The Montefeltro Altarpiece by Marco Carminati, 2014, published by 24ORE Cultura srl, p35. But Lightbrown (see above) points out that the Virgin birth was still at the time of Piero's painting an unresolved question of dogma.
5 See Samuel Y. Edgerton, Jr's very interesting essay Mensurare temporalia facit Geometria Spiritualis: Some Fifteenth-Century Italian Notions about When and Where the Annunciation Happened in Studies in Late Medieval and Renaissance Painting in Honor (sic) of Millard Meiss, (various authors), North York University Press, 1977, pp115-130.
6 The strong orthogonal lines in the pavement of Piermatteo's Annunciation direct our eye ultimately to the enclosing wall at the end of Mary's garden, and through that to an idyllic landscape in which figure two prominent trees: the centrally-placed one indicates the new life that Mary is about to bring into the world and, owing to its 'wood' symbolism, implies various other meanings associated with the advent of Christ including his Passion (the wood of the Cross and so on).
7 It will be recalled that Piero is known to have been in Rome (1453 and 1458-9) and indeed to have worked there, at the Vatican and also apparently, at Santa Maria Maggiore.
8 F. Camerota and F. P. Di Teodoro (eds), exhibition catalogue, op cit. p57, in discussing the diffusion of Alberti's writings, in particular his Elementa picturae and De pictura (Il Trattato della Pittura in Italian), say: "I due scritti esponevano i principi basilari della geometria euclidea con il linguaggio dei pittori ..." (The two writings explained the basic principles of Euclidean geometry with [in] the language of painters ...).
* See the article 'Qualche commento a proposito della Pala Montefeltro di Piero della Francesca' also in this blog.
** Although I prefer to write only about works I have actually seen in person, as far as the present article is concerned, I admit to having seen neither the Fitzwilliam nor the Stewart Gardner Annunciations, other than in photographs. I note here also that, until recently, the Stewart Gardner picture was attributed to Antoniazzo Romano but has lately been given to Piermatteo d'Amelia, a more likely candidate.
7 It will be recalled that Piero is known to have been in Rome (1453 and 1458-9) and indeed to have worked there, at the Vatican and also apparently, at Santa Maria Maggiore.
8 F. Camerota and F. P. Di Teodoro (eds), exhibition catalogue, op cit. p57, in discussing the diffusion of Alberti's writings, in particular his Elementa picturae and De pictura (Il Trattato della Pittura in Italian), say: "I due scritti esponevano i principi basilari della geometria euclidea con il linguaggio dei pittori ..." (The two writings explained the basic principles of Euclidean geometry with [in] the language of painters ...).
* See the article 'Qualche commento a proposito della Pala Montefeltro di Piero della Francesca' also in this blog.
** Although I prefer to write only about works I have actually seen in person, as far as the present article is concerned, I admit to having seen neither the Fitzwilliam nor the Stewart Gardner Annunciations, other than in photographs. I note here also that, until recently, the Stewart Gardner picture was attributed to Antoniazzo Romano but has lately been given to Piermatteo d'Amelia, a more likely candidate.
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDelete