Artistic transfers in Gothic Europe

During the Gothic period, Europe saw a considerable amount of artistic mobility. Associated with the question of the movement of artists and works from the 12^th through the 16^th century is the question of the effect of these artistic transfers on the development of European culture. The multi-author work, Les transferts artistiques dans l’Europe gothique (1) furnishes new answers to the latter question. 

In recent years the question of mobility has taken on a new sense, as it regards the soil of Europe. The Treaty of Maastricht and the implementation of the Schengen Space moved the construction of Europe forward, raising as they did so many questions about the movement of goods and persons. In the new environment, favourable to cultural exchanges, a project of research into artistic transfers during the Gothic period was planned. It is supported by the National Institute of Art History of Paris, the Département Transitions of the University of Liège, and the University of Toulouse II - Le Mirail, and after a number of workshops and journées d’étude, an initial publication (2) has appeared.  Its objective is to “provide news about the question of the movement of artists, of know-how, forms, works or models, and to understand the role of mobility in the artistic developments of the medieval period in the West”. 

The decision to focus on the Gothic period was motivated by the fact that this part of the Middle Ages was particularly favourable to mobility among artists and the transfer of works. It was a time of social change and of a significant change in people’s taste, which carried within itself the seeds of the Renaissance. The Gothic style originated in France in the 12^th century, and eventually appeared in other European countries. The Gothic the Stiftskirche of Wimpfen im Tal (Germany), dating to the 13^th century, was referred to by its dean as an opus francigenum. This Latin tag, as Strasbourg professor Marc Carel Schurr explains, is a direct reference to architectural style. 

Over and above this historical context, the work approaches the idea of artistic transfer in a novel way. The meaning assigned to the expression is a matter of some importance, as Liège professor of medieval art history Benoît Van den Bossche, a co-director of the publication, explains. “For a long time, art historians have talked about works of art in terms of influences. Such and such a painting by Antonello da Messina, gives evidence of Flemish influence, etc. But this term, which occurs so frequently, is not clearly defined”. What is more, the term assumes that forms and artistic practices are like autonomous beings that can influence things or be influenced by them. But art objects, themes and techniques do not disseminate anything by themselves. The artist must copy them or decide to be inspired by them, etc. 

This is why these researchers decided to start talking about “artistic transfers”, abandoning the vague (though relatively flexible) contours of the term “influence”. This expression is often taken as equivalent to “cultural transfers”. But in this book, the two expressions are connected to different realities, according to Simone Hespers (scientific co-researcher from the University of Erlangen-Nuremberg). To be more exact, it is a matter both of the physical displacement of artists and their creations, but also of the transposition of styles, iconic themes, or techniques from one region that are adopted in others. Of course, the transfers we are talking about are not at all limited to copying. Mathieu Piavaux (University of Namur) demonstrates this in his examination of the Sainte-Chapelle de Paris, emblematic of the Gothic style. This style spread throughout Europe, but not without being transformed to some degree by contact with different themes or techniques. A variety of case studies are examined in the book (which are detailed in the sequel to the article) – attest the richness of an approach focusing on artistic transfers.

Iconography and stylistics of transfers

When the discussion turns to artistic transfers, one immediately thinks of a diffusion of styles or themes, or expressly iconic motifs. This aspect of artistic mobility has been a subject of research for a long time, but new discoveries continue to be made. Indeed, when Béla Zsolt Szakács (art history professor at Péter Pázmány University in Budapest) examined the frescoes over the choir stalls in the church of Keszthely in western Hungary, he found a troubling kinship with the pictorial tradition that was popular at Siena, Italy, from the 15^th century on. Up to that point, the poor state of conservation of these Hungarian works had made the process of interpreting them quite delicate: by means of the hypothesis of an artistic transfer, the author was able to retain the resemblance to certain frescoes found in Siena, even extrapolating some of the missing scenes. Then, the question of the origin of the observed kinship arises. How did these motifs and this style, developed in Italy, manage to get themselves transmitted in to Hungary? The author explains that apart from the presence in Keszthely of Italians (the church was decorated with the monogram of a Tuscan artisan), people who commissioned works had travelled in Italy. The problem of artistic transfers shone a new light on the iconography of this particular Hungarian church.

These discoveries with regard to the diffusion of styles and motifs were not limited to unknown groupings. They also concern productions already at the heart of numerous publications, like the sculptures around the door of the Strasbourg Cathedral. Up to the present time research has focused on the identification of different hands that were responsible for the programme of decoration. Denise Borlée (University of Strasbourg) proposed looking at the sculptures of the central door in a different way. A meticulous analysis shows that the constant rhythm with which the various scenes were connected, and their particularly vivid aspect, is not found in other statuary productions of the same period. In order to find such characteristics one must turn toward different artistic materials, such as ivory. Artisans working in Strasbourg did not hesitate to transfer styles from one material to another.

The study of materials sometimes casts some light upon certain stylistic characteristics of works of art. Tobias Kunz (scientific co-worker at the Skulpturensammlung Bode Museum of Berlin) examined a group of Madonnas from the Mosan region executed in Carrara marble. How did this material get to this region? Was it transported as a rough stone, or was it sculpted first? Was there considerable artistic traffic between these two geographical areas? Based on his research the author puts forward the hypothesis that at least one Meuse valley artisan must have worked in Italy, near certain marble quarries. This presence of a Mosan artisan must have been the occasion for artistic exchanges with local artisans – as is apparently demonstrated by the hybrid characteristics of certain works. This form of hybridization is found in other productions, such as the tomb of Pope John XXII of Avignon. Julian Gardner, the founder of the art history department at the University of Warwick, says that although the funerary model of the tomb is identifiably English, its execution in the context of 14^th century France has also contributed to its style. 

Over and above the style and iconography of his original context, the artisan has also imbued his productions with characteristics of the art of the various regions he has visited. Francesca Manzari, researcher in medieval art history at the University of Rome Sapienza has been studying the production of liturgical books in the papal courts of Avignon and Rome during the Great Schism, and she identified a case that is relatively unique in all History. Following the installation of antipopes at Avignon in the 14^th century, the demand for liturgical books rose sharply. For a time, this attracted outside artists to the city. The analysis of this microcosm shows that outside or exogenous artists are not only the vectors of the styles of their original contexts, but also the contexts they have come in contact with during their careers.

Finally, the causes of stylistic or iconographic transfers are not limited to the artistic domain. Sometimes they can carry a political message. Stefan Roller, the conservator of the Middle Ages department at the Liebighaus museum in Frankfurt am Main, puts forward the example of Niclas Gerhaert van Leyden, a sculptor active in the second half of the 15^th century, and a native of the Low Countries. He did work for the German Holy Roman Emperor Frederick III of Habsburg, and what he produced was of exceptional quality, not only in respect of style but also of technique. But this artistic success does not explain why after his death, so many who commissioned art works let it be known that they were looking for artists who could work “in the style of Niclas”. The reason was that in certain strata of society, the style of Niclas was associated with Frederick, and owning a piece of it was equivalent to support for the Emperor. These connections between artistic transfer and political life, made with the help of art works, also involve the domain of iconography, as witness a study by Ivan Gerat, the director of the Institute of art history of Bratislava. Great compares two groups of paintings of Elizabeth of Thuringia (one originating in Lübeck, Germany, and one from Košice, Slovakia), and finds that their differences correspond to local factors, connected, again, to the patrons’ desire for the works they commissioned to be politically correct.

Technical and technological transfers

The movements of artists and works also allowed the diffusion of techniques, which thus escaped the confines of their natal environment. Maria-Anne Privat-Savigny, the director of the Gadagne museums of Lyon, takes up the case of the opus anglicanum. This Latin tag refers to an English embroidery technique which was famous during the Gothic period. Very valuable art works require rich materials and great technical skill, and these constitute prestigious diplomatic gifts. The very nature of the opus anglicanum explains its diffusion in Europe, something that was favourable for borrowing, especially in the technical realm. The author sums up these movements: “professionals, works, patrons, collections and models circulated intensely in the Europe of the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, and thus constituted so many opportunities for imitation, learning, adaptation, interpretation [ …]”.

This technological dimension allows us to re-evaluate certain theories based on stylistic or iconographic criteria. Among the themes to be considered in a new light, the book gives most attention to the encounter between Flemish art (and oil painting) and the Italian production of the Quattrocento. Giorgio Vasari, precursor of art history, was already evoking this in the 16^th century in his famous Lives. But like many of his successors, he assumed that Italian painters were superior to the Northern masters. A contrario, some researchers have been content to reduce Italian oil painting to simple copies, more or less successful, of Flemish masterpieces. These two points of view do not take into account the varying appropriation artists make of a single technique. As Dominique Allart, professor and director of the department “Transitions” at the University of Liège, puts the matter: oil painting came to Italy, and amounted to a number of new possibilities. As for Claire Challéat (connected to the Ecole française of Rome), she concentrated on a particular case: the production of the painter Colantonio, who worked in Naples in the mid-15^th century. Her study shows that several artists of the same period borrowed stylistic or iconographic elements from Flemish artists, but still celebrated Colantonio’s innovative technique in their writings about art. Their interest focuses on “the political and symbolic meaning of the Flemish model, as the visible manifestation of a status”. Far from a servile copy, the art of the Quattrocento thus causes some transfers, while retaining its own will and motivation. 

In recent years, such questions about medieval technology have been considered in the light of modern science. Laboratory analyses have allowed researchers to learn much about medieval techniques and materials. Sometimes this kind of analysis can settle a question, as we see from an article about sculptors in France and Spain. Elena Aguado-Guardiola, professor at the High School for conservation and restoration of cultural goods in Aragon, Ana María Muñoz-Sancho (a doctoral candidate) and Javier Ibáñez Fernández (a professor of art history at the University of Saragossa) are able to explain to us that sculptors’ practices, particularly those common in the 15^th century, are rather poorly documented, and not well known for that very reason. Thanks to information gleaned from laboratory analysis, the authors have been able to demonstrate that certain techniques perfected in Burgundy, adapted to the unfavourable climatic conditions in that region in relation to the conservation of pigments applied to sculptures, ended up being used in Spain. The durability obtained through these techniques, exported to the favourable environment of the Iberian Peninsula, allowed the polychromes of certain sculptures to be extremely well preserved. In the chapel of theCorporales of Daroca, the colours of the 15^th century, applied using the Burgundian method, stood up better after centuries than those of the 16^th century, applied using a local method.

Some techniques are transferred from one region to another, but the things that do not manage to be transferred also have an interesting side. Focusing on the Mosan region during the Gothic period, Frans Doperé, a researcher studying medieval architecture in Western Europe, observed that certain techniques, which were easily diffused over neighbouring regions, never affected Mosan production. This observation may indicate that local actors, despite their contacts with exogenous artisans, resisted the importation of techniques and know-how that was different from their own traditions, and thus failed to follow in the footsteps of the mainstream of development around them.

Whether we are talking about the diffusion of tin glazing in French ceramics, the  ronde-bosse style of enamelling of Parisian workshops on Spanish territory, or the architecture of Genoese colonies on the Black Sea, the examples the book goes in to attest the importance of taking technological transfers into account in attempting to comprehend artistic production in Gothic Europe. 

The socioprofessional dimension of transfers

Over and above the technical, stylistic and iconographic aspects of transfers, their socio-professional dimension has also attracted the attention of a number of researchers: what factors caused the artists to circulate? Was mobility rare? How did the itinerant artists fit in at the new locations? 

As regards the movement of artists, Philippe Bernardi, the director of research for CNRS at the Sorbonne, reminds us that in many cases, the decision of a patron is not the only motivation to be taken into account. Through a study of the archives of notaries, he managed to trace the movements of a sculptor and architect of the 15^th century, Hélion L’Auvergnat, and then to show that his movements, in succession – he moved to Arles, and then moved around more and more freely in Provence – do not indicate an artisan travelling in search of work, but rather a well-established man who progressively enlarges his territory.

The question of the integration of foreign artists into a new milieu is raised at several points in this book. Basing her study on the case of the Parler family in Bohemia in the 14^th and 15^th centuries, Klára Benešovská, director of the department of medieval art history of the Institute of Art History in Prague gives us an example of the integration exogenous artisans. The Parler family is an important group of stonecutters and sculptors. The most famous member is the maître d’œuvre of the St. Vitus Cathedral in Prague, Peter Parler. Prague is a city that is open to international influences, and welcomes artisans with different backgrounds, who are judged on the basis of talent, not on where they come from. Even if the fame of Peter Parler was tributary to the particular conditions in which he evolved, and to the exceptional commissions he received, his foreign origins do not constitute an obstacle to his career.

This problematic draws substance from another particular example, that of Stefan Lochner. This painter was admired by Albrecht Dürer, and is the only artist of the Cologne school who did not remain anonymous. Julien Chapuis, the assistant director of the Bode Museum in Berlin says “the oeuvre of Stefan Lochner suggests that in the Cologne of the 15^th century the success of an exogenous artist depended on his ability to offer patrons in his adopted home something new and desirable that no other artisan could produce, while continuing to show the proper respect for local sensibilities and traditions”. Lochner moved to Cologne at a time when rich patrons were in search of the latest foreign innovations, although local artisans tried to stop outside competition from moving to the city. His successful socio-professional insertion thus owes much to the novel aspect of his style and technique, which he alone possessed, in Cologne.

These examples of successful integration only concern a few isolated personalities, as we learn from an article by Arnaldo Sousa Melo and Maria do Carmo Ribeiro, professors of history at the University of Minho, Portugal, on the subject of construction sites in Portugal. At the beginning of the 16^th century growth in the construction industry in Portugal caused builders from other lands to go to Portugal. Among these, the Biscayans formed an important core, and they had possession of new techniques and a new aesthetic style in Burgos, Santiago de Compostela or even Seville. By carrying these innovations to Portugal and combining them with local practices, they would integrate themselves particularly well at the professional level. Even more, all this research shows that the Biscayans also found their place from a social point of view. They won posts of responsibility, even being given public offices or titles of nobility, and some married Portuguese women and put down roots in their adopted countries. 

Finally this socio-professional chapter allows certain clichés to be deconstructed. Hanno Wijsman, an engineer at the Institute for research and history of texts, in Paris, explains that the image of artisans as regular travellers was hard to get used to, especially in the mind of the public at large. In the 19^th and 20^th centuries artists were often classified as belonging to national, regional or local schools, and this encouraged the idea of a Flemish, Parisian or Bruges style, etc. This idea of belonging to a school contributed to the idea that artists were rather sedentary. As Hanno Wijsman demonstrated with respect to Bruges, some cities were real poles of attraction on an international scale. In the middle of the 15^th century Bruges became the leading centre of production for manuscript books. It concentrated not only on exogenous authors – including three Parisians, the accredited miniaturists for two dukes of Burgundy Philip the Good and Charles the Bold – but also on bilingual or multilingual workshops. The study of the socioprofessional aspect of artistic transfers thus gives us a new picture of artisans. They were mobile, they carried know-how from their home region with them, and they acquired know-how in places they passed through. Often, they fit in well with things in the places they moved to.

During the Gothic period artists and works moved around more than they had previously in Europe. This circulation, as we have seen, raises many questions: what was the justification for the employment of exogenous artists? What were the constraints under which these exogenous artists worked, and what effect did all this have on their production? How were they welcomed in their adopted homes? Thanks to these rich examples this book, Les transferts artistiques dans l’Europe gothique brings new answers to these questions. What is more, this publication, which is distinguished because of its geographical scope, raises the curtain on our artistic culture...

(1) Les transferts artistiques dans l’Europe gothique, directed by Jacques Dubois, Jean-Marie Guillouët and Benoît Van den Bossche, Paris, éditions Picard.

(2) In addition, this research project has given rise to a database concerning the Gothic period, in which artists demonstrating mobility during the period are listed. This database will continue to be expanded in the future.