Charlemagne: Saint of the Holy Roman Empire?

02 Thursday May 2013

Posted by Reliquarian in Metal Reliquary

Tags

Aachen, anti-pope, canonization, cathedral, Charlemagne, Germany, reliquary, Saint Martin, shrine

Pater Europae – Father of Europe

In her 2008 study of Charlemagne, Charlemagne: The Formation of a European Identity, Rosamond McKitterick observes, “Charlemagne, king of the Franks from 768 to 814, is one of the few major rulers in European history for whom there is an agreed stereotype.”[1] Celebrated as a mighty conqueror, a pious Christian ruler, and an enlightened patron of learning, Charlemagne is memorialized throughout Europe, particularly in the lands of his former empire. McKitterick notes, “Statues and paintings of Charlemagne abound in many of the cities of Europe, whether major capitals such as Paris or towns that have often long since lost their political pre-eminence.”[2] His likeness “graces the market place in Aachen . . . and the cathedrals of Bremen, Frankfurt and Halberstadt. He surveys the cities of Zurich, Dinant and Liège, and he sits astride his horse in front of Notre Dame in Paris.”[3] Reverence for Charlemagne is, perhaps, strongest in Aachen, Germany, where Charlemagne continues to be not only honored as the first Holy Roman Emperor but also venerated as a saint. But was Charlemagne, in fact, ever a saint?

Dome of Aachen Cathedral

Playing with the King of Hearts

Even those who have never seen a statue or painting of Charlemagne have probably encountered at least one portrait of the emperor before. Charlemagne is apparently the enigmatic King of Hearts in a deck of playing cards. Also known as the “suicide king” because he is commonly shown stabbing himself in the head with a sword, the King of Hearts may be a stylized representation of Charlemagne, but the visual depiction is flawed in at least one fundamental aspect: the King of Hearts has no moustache.

Throne of Charlemagne, Aachen Cathedral

Of the four kings represented in a deck of cards, only the King of Hearts sports a clean-shaven upper lip; however, as Professor Paul Freedmen has noted in his lectures on medieval history, the Carolingians, of whom Charlemagne was a member, were well-known for their moustaches.[4] More evidence militating against this interpretation can be found at Aachen, the former imperial capital. The famous reliquary bust of Charlemagne in the Treasury of Aachen Cathedral clearly portrays Charlemagne with a moustache, suggesting the King of Hearts cannot be the famous Holy Roman Emperor. Notably, Charlemagne also never stabbed himself in the head, another “fatal” flaw in the historical conceit linking the two royal heads.

Vita Karoli

How do we know what Charlemagne looked like? Einhard’s Vita Karoli, written sometime between 817 and 833, provides one of the earliest written descriptions of Charlemagne, including an account of his physical appearance. In the preface to his work, Einhard, a Frankish courtier and contemporary of Charlemagne, explained that he had committed the story of Charlemagne to writing so that “the most glorious life of this most excellent king, the greatest of all the princes of his day, and his illustrious deeds” should not become “wrapped in the darkness of oblivion.”[5] Elegantly written in Ciceronian Latin, Einhard’s biography has proven to be one of the most influential and enduring portraits of the ancient king.[6]

The High Altar of Aachen Cathedral

Part of Vita Karoli’s popularity may derive from its disarmingly honest depiction of Charlemagne. Einhard tells us, for example, that Charlemagne was “large and strong, and of lofty stature, though not disproportionately tall (his height is well known to have been seven times the length of his foot) . . . .”[7] Additionally, “the upper part of his head was round, his eyes very large and animated, nose a little long, hair fair, and face laughing and merry.”[8] His appearance was “always stately and dignified, whether he was standing or sitting, although his neck was thick and somewhat short, and his belly rather prominent.”[9] He enjoyed red meat, and his favorite book was Saint Augustine’s The City of God.[10]

As McKitterick explains, “The scholarly reaction to Einhard’s account has ranged from uncritical acceptance to outright rejection of its historical validity.”[11] Still, “as a reflection of perceptions of Charlemagne and knowledge available about him at the time Einhard wrote, . . . it is immensely valuable.”[12]

The Canonization of Saints

While Einhard’s admiration for Charlemagne is evident in his writing, Einhard never referred to Charlemagne, either figuratively or literally, as a saint. From the Vita Karoli we learn that Charlemagne died on 28 January 814 at the age of seventy and that he was buried on the same day. Because Charlemagne never indicated where he wanted to be laid to rest, confusion arose as to where he should be buried. Eventually, “all agreed that he could nowhere be more honorably entombed than in the very basilica that he had built in the town [of Aachen] at his own expense.”[13]

Arm Reliquary of Charlemagne

A local cultus eventually developed around the storied king; however, only the Church could officially recognize the beatification or canonization of individuals. As Monsignor P. E. Hallett explains in his study on canonization, the Church constantly “had to guard against the extravagant and unauthorized devotion of the people.”[14] Indeed, Charlemagne himself was the author of a synodal law designed to check the arbitrary veneration of alleged saints.[15] The law, which prohibited the public veneration of new saints without the official sanction of the local bishop, was intended to prevent the type of mistake Saint Martin of Tours once encountered in his diocese.[16]

According to the legend, the people of Tours highly honored a shrine believed to be the tomb of a martyr. Saint Martin, however, had his doubts. As Rev. Alban Butler explains, “The place was much reverenced by the people; but St. Martin, who was not over credulous, would not go thither to pray, not hearing any assured account of the relics. He asked the eldest of the clergy what they knew of them, and not receiving satisfaction, he went one day to the place with some of his brethren, and, standing over the tomb, besought God to show him who was buried there. Then turning to the left he saw near him a pale ghost of a fierce aspect, whom he commanded to speak. The ghost told his name, and it appeared that he had been a robber who was executed for his crimes, whom the people had honoured as a martyr. None but St. Martin saw him; the rest only heard his voice. He thereupon caused the altar to be removed; and freed the people from this superstition.”[17]

Until the 12^th century, local bishops could beatify individuals by permitting public cultus, that is, the “erection of altars, the celebration of feasts, the offering of Holy Mass in their honour within the limits of their diocese.”[18] Today, however, only those whose cultus has been accepted, either expressly or tacitly, by the Holy See are considered beatified, and only those whose cultus has been extended to the Universal Church are considered canonized saints.[19]

Saint Charlemagne?

The cultus of Charlemagne provides an illuminating example of this system of recognition. Three and a half centuries after his death, in 1165, Charlemagne was canonized by the anti-pope Paschal III.[20] The Catholic Church never officially recognized Paschal III’s canonization of the Carolingian emperor, however,[21] and in fact, all of Paschal III’s pronouncements were eventually abrogated in 1179 by the Third Lateran Council.[22] This wholesale repudiation of Paschal III and his decisions would presumably have included his canonization of Charlemagne.[23]

View of Organ, Aachen Cathedral

Despite the rejection of Charlemagne’s canonization, a local cultus that had developed around the emperor persisted and spread to parts of Germany, Belgium, and France.[24] No subsequent pope protested the cultus, so it endured for several centuries with the tacit permission of Rome.[25] In the 18^th century, Pope Benedict XIV confirmed the cultus, though apparently not as an official papal act.[26] Ultimately, because the cultus continued to exist with the permission of the Church, Charlemagne is considered beatified.[27] Charlemagne, therefore, can be referred to as Blessed Charlemagne; however, he is not Saint Charlemagne.[28]

The Shrine of Charlemagne at Aachen

Charlemagne is believed to have been initially buried in a marble sarcophagus from the 3^rd century.[29] His body was later transferred to a more ornate and impressive golden shrine commissioned by Emperor Frederick II in the late 12^th century.[30] The shrine, which is sometimes referred to as a reliquary, was created between 1182 and 1215.[31] The “Concise Guide to Aachen Cathedral,” a tourist pamphlet available for purchase at Aachen, states that Charlemagne’s bones have been housed in the shrine since 1215.[32] It further notes that the “Emperor’s bones are surrounded by sixteen of his successors” depicted on the shrine, and “Charlemagne himself sits at the end wall below Christ giving a blessing, flanked by Pope Leo III and Archbishop Turpin of Reims.”[33]

Shrine of Charlemagne

On the day we visited the cathedral, the guide who led our tour stated the sixteen kings represented on the shrine were included instead of saints because Charlemagne’s status as a saint was uncertain. From afar, the royal figures have the aspects of saints, but on closer inspection, they wear crowns rather than mitre or halos, and they hold symbols of secular power rather than instruments of martyrdom.

[1] Rosamond McKitterick, Charlemagne: The Formation of a European Identity 1 (2008).

[2] Id. at 3.

[3] Id.

[4] Paul H. Freedman, Charlemagne, Class Lecture for The Early Middle Ages, 284-1000 at Yale University (Nov. 9, 2011). Professor Freedman contrasts the short hair and moustaches of the Carolingians with the long hair and beards of their rivals, the Merovingians. Freedman states, “one of the symbols of Merovingian familial prestige was this long hair. But Carolingians had short hair and wore mustaches. They kind of broke with the Merovingian look. But of course, this is not just a male fashion statement.”

[5] Einhard: The Life of Charlemagne (Samuel Epes Turner trans., Harper & Brothers 1880), available at http://www.fordham.edu/halsall/basis/einhard.asp#EINHARD’S%20PREFACE.

[6] See, e.g., McKitterick, supra note 1, at 7.

[7] Einhard: The Life of Charlemagne, supra note 5.

[8] Id.

[9] Id.

[10] Id.

[11] McKitterick, supra note 1, at 7 (citation omitted).

[12] Id.

[13] Einhard: The Life of Charlemagne, supra note 5.

[14] P.E. Hallet, The Canonization of Saints (1952), available at http://www.ewtn.com/library/mary/canonize.htm.

[15] Id.

[16] See id.

[17] Alban Butler, 9 Lives of the Saints (1866), available at http://www.bartleby.com/210/11/111.html.

[18] Hallet, supra note 15.

[19] Id.

[20] Id. By canonizing Charlemagne, Paschal III hoped to gain the support of the emperor, Frederick Barbarossa, in his struggle against the legitimate pope, Alexander III. Id.

[21] Id. Inexplicably, McKitterick erroneously avers that Pope Alexander III, not Paschal III, canonized Charlemagne in 1165. McKitterick, supra note 1, at 2 (citing R.Folz, Etudes sur le liturgique de Charlemagne dans les églises de l’empire (1951)). She writes, “A liturgical feast in honour of St Charlemagne was actually instituted in 1165 when Pope Alexander III canonized him and a cult of Charlemagne spread across western Europe. Id.

[22] William Beckett, 1 A Universal Biography 116 (1834).

[23] See id.

[24] Hallet, supra note 15.

[25] Id.

[26] See id. Hallet notes that Pope Benedict XIV confirmed the cultus “writing as a private theologian, not officially as Pope.” Id.

[27] Id.; Benedictine Monks of St. Augustine’s Abbey, The Book of the Saints 62 (photo. reprint 2003) (1921). In Hallet’s words, “In virtue then of this toleration, and not of course in virtue of the act of the anti-pope, which was null and void, it has been held . . . that he is to be considered as beatified.” Hallet, supra note 15.

[28] See Benedictine Monks of St. Augustine’s Abbey, supra note 27, at 62. The Book of the Saints lists Charlemagne as beatified though not canonized, noting that “in some churches” he has been “honoured as a Saint.” Id.

[29] See, e.g., McKitterick, supra note 1, at 3.

[30] See id.; Dom Schatz Kammer Aachen, “Concise Guide to Aachen Cathedral.”

[31] Dom Schatz Kammer Aachen.

[32] Id.

[33] Id.

Saint Theodore: Warrior Saint and Dragon-Slayer

23 Saturday Mar 2013

Posted by Reliquarian in Sculpture

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Tags

basilica, dragon, Italy, relic, reliquary, Saint George, Saint Mark, Saint Theodore, Venice

Saint Theodore Arrives in Venice

He arrived in Venice from the East in pieces: a torso and cuirass, a disembodied head, a crocodile. The Sack of Constantinople in 1204 had devastated the city, but the Venetians, who had transported the army of the Fourth Crusade to Constantinople, managed to salvage an enormous horde of objects from the captured city. The Venetians systematically shipped these objects – statues, jeweled reliquaries, architectural columns, and marble pediments – back to Venice. Among the crates were several fragments of statuary that, when recombined, would become a statue of Saint Theodore, the great warrior-saint, dragon-slayer, and a patron saint of Venice.

Saint Theodore of Amasea

Saint Theodore of Amasea was a Roman recruit martyred in the early 4^th century for professing his faith in Christianity. As a new recruit, he is also known as Saint Theodore Tiro, tiro meaning “recruit” in Latin.[1] Saint Theodore of Amasea is often confused with another Theodore – Saint Theodore of Stratelates, a Roman general – although most scholars believe the two Theodores were probably the same person.[2] Butler’s Lives of the Saints notes that the stories relating to Saint Theodore of Amasea “cannot be relied on,” although they probably refer to “a real martyr who may or may not have been a soldier.”[3] Butler’s Lives of the Saints continues, “So complicated and contradictory did his story become that, in order to make it less inconsistent, a second soldier St Theodore had to be posited and so we have the St Theodore Stratelates of February 7.”[4] Saint Theodore of Amasea’s feast day is November 9.

The first known mention of Saint Theodore of Amasea derives from a panegyric delivered by Saint Gregory of Nyssa near Saint Theodore’s tomb in Euchaita, modern-day Turkey.[5] According to various legends, when Saint Theodore refused to offer sacrifices to the Roman gods along with his legion he was brought before the governor of the province to explain himself. He declared himself to be a Christian, and when asked why he would profess faith in an outlawed religion, the worship of which was a capital offense, he responded, “I know not your gods. Jesus Christ, the only Son of God, is my God.”[6] He was dismissed and, according to some sources, went into the city of Amasea near the Iris River and burned down the temple of Cybele.[7] Not surprisingly, he was captured and was again brought before the Roman authorities who questioned and cajoled him, and then tortured him.[8] When he was returned to his prison cell, he was comforted by visions of angels.[9] Eventually, he was condemned to death and was burned alive in a furnace.[10]

Here Be Dragons

Notably absent from these stories is any mention of dragons or dragon slaying. Why, then, is Saint Theodore frequently depicted slaying a dragon? Saint Theodore’s identification as an heroic dragon-slayer may be related to the belief that by his intercession “devils were expelled and distempers cured.”[11] In The Dragon in Medieval East Christian and Islamic Art, Sara Kuehn suggests that the belief in Saint Theodore’s power to vanquish evil probably inspired the dragon-slaying motif.[12] Kuehn writes, “Dragon-slaying riders were progressively identified as warrior saints and can conclusively be interpreted as exercising an apotropaic or protective function.”[13]

St. Michael and Dragon, Minster of the Holy Cross, Rottweil, Germany

In early Christian art, Saint Theodore is often depicted with fellow dragon-slayer Saint George, although portrayals of Saint Theodore slaying a dragon predate those of his more famous companion. Kuehn states, “Among the military saints Theodore and George were predominantly associated with the miracle of dragon-slaying and often appear together. In the hagiographical tradition, Saint Theodore clearly preceded Saint George in the role of dragon-slayer.”[14] Early references to Saint Theodore slaying a dragon can be traced to the late 9^th century[15] while the earliest known depiction of Saint George smiting a dragon is from the early 11^th century.[16] Before then, Saint George was sometimes shown killing a man rather than a dragon.[17] Other saints frequently depicted with dragons include Saint Margaret, Saint Martha, Saint Sylvester, the Apostle Philip, and the Archangel Michael (pictured in the carved sculpture, above, located at the Minster of the Holy Cross, Rottweil, Germany).[18]

Saint George and the Dragon

Incidentally, the celebrated story of how Saint George vanquished a dragon and rescued a princess was likely a later embellishment to the legend of Saint George the martyr – and one that clearly captured the imagination of subsequent generations. Most famously told in the Legenda Aurea (Golden Legend), Saint George was a Christian knight born in Cappadocia who, while out riding in the province of Lybia, arrived at the city of Sylene. The city’s inhabitants were being terrorized by a terrible dragon, which they attempted to appease by providing two sheep every day. When the inhabitants ran out of sheep, they substituted a human victim, who was selected by lot. On the day of Saint George’s arrival, the king’s daughter had been selected to serve as the sacrifice. Saint George ultimately rescued the princess, but before he would slay the dragon, the saint elicited the people’s promise to convert to Christianity. This they promised, and once the dragon was killed, four oxcarts were needed to dispose of its carcass.[19]

Heroic Landscape with St George, Joseph Anton Koch (1807). Alte Pinakothek, Munich, German.

Joseph Anton Koch, Heroic Landscape with St. George (detail) (1807). Alte Pinakothek, Munich, German.

Butler’s Lives of the Saints observes that “the story of the dragon, though given so much prominence, was a later accretion of which we have no sure traces before the twelfth century.”[20] The authors further comment, “There is every reason to believe that St George was a real martyr who suffered at Diospolis (i.e. Lydda) in Palestine, probably before the time of Constantine. Beyond this there seems to be nothing which can be affirmed with any confidence.”[21] Although Saint George is not mentioned in the Syriac Breviarium, he is mentioned in the Heironymianum, and various pilgrims of the 6^th to 8^th century identified Lydda or Diospolis as the site of his relics.[22]

Arm Reliquaries, Basilica of Saint Mark

Coincidentally, the arm of Saint George was apparently one of four important relics taken from Constantinople to Venice following the sack of the city in 1204.[23] Located today in the Treasury of Saint Mark’s Basilica, the Reliquary of the Arm of Saint George (pictured above, in the right foreground) features an unusual cone-shaped exterior, oval in cross-section, of silver gilt and enamel and a glass lid topped with a figure of Saint George on horseback spearing a dragon.[24]

Reliquary of the Arm of St. George (detail of lid)

A plaque on the lowest part of the reliquary case, above the stems and leaves that form the base, reads in reserve against niello, “ISTVT · EST · BRAC/HIVM · GLORIOXIS/IMI · MARTIRIS S/ANCTI · GEORGEII” (“This is the arm of the most glorious martyr, Saint George”).[25] This exterior, of Venetian design, dates to before 1325.[26] The outer reliquary holds an earlier Byzantine reliquary made of silver that dates to before 1204.[27] While the dragon is likely original, the equestrian figure of Saint George is probably more modern, dating to the 16^th century.[28] According to some sources, Saint George became Venice’s third patron saint – after Saints Mark and Theodore – sometime following the translation of his arm to the city.[29]

Reliquary of the Arm of St. George (plaque in reserve against niello)

He Came in Pieces

As noted above, the statue of Saint Theodore arrived in Venice in various pieces, although the pieces were not, in fact, part of a single, unified work. Edward Hollis, who writes about the evolution and transformation of buildings over time in The Secret Life of Buildings, explains how the Venetians recombined disparate sculptural fragments pilfered from Constantinople to create a single, monumental statute of their patron saint.[30]

Saint Theodore in Saint Mark's Square After the Venetians left Constantinople, some of the treasures they had appropriated were lost at sea and some were sold along the journey, but most of the objects arrived safely in Venice, where they were unloaded and unpacked at the Arsenale.[31] After they were evaluated by various officials, they were eventually repurposed to enhance the beauty, status, and prestige of La Serenissima. For example, building material and other decorative ornaments stripped from the churches of Constantinople were used to clothe the basilica of Saint Mark “in the borrowed raiment of vanished sanctuaries” so that “what had been an austere brick structure soon shone, and sparkled, and flashed in the sun.”[32]

Hollis explains that a centurion’s cuirass, a crocodile, and a disembodied head “became the body of Saint Theodore.”[33] Similarly, a pair of brazen angel’s wings and a lion were “welded together to make the emblem of Saint Mark.”[34] Both of these new creations were hoisted atop a pair of Numidian granite columns, also taken from Constantinople, and set in Saint Mark’s Square.[35] The two statutes, symbolizing two patron saints of Venice, remain in the square to this day.[36]

Antonio Canaletto, Piazzetta in Venice. Alte Pinakothek, Munich, Germany.

[1] 4 Butler’s Lives of the Saints 302, 301-303 (Herbert J. Thurston, S.J. & Donald Attwater eds., 2d ed. 1956). Alternatively, Butler’s Lives of the Saints suggests that the surname Tiro more probably derives from his membership in the Cohors tironum. Id.

[2] See, e.g., id.; Rosa Giorgi, Saints in Art 345 (Stefano Zuffi ed. & Thomas Michael Hartmann trans., 2002) (“Beginning in the tenth century, Theodore split into two figures in popular devotion, a general and a soldier that were really the same person.”).

[3] Butler’s Lives of the Saints, supra note 1, at 302.

[4] Id.

[5] See, e.g., id. at 301.

[6] Id. at 302.

[7] See, e.g., Giorgi, supra note 1, at 345; Butler’s Lives of the Saints, supra note 1, at 302.

[8] Butler’s Lives of the Saints, supra note 1, at 302.

[9] See, e.g., Giorgi, supra note 1, at 345; Butler’s Lives of the Saints, supra note 1, at 302.

[10] Butler’s Lives of the Saints, supra note 1, at 302

[11] Id. (citing the panegyric attributed to Saint Gregory of Nyssa).

[12] See Sara Kuehn, The Dragon in Medieval East Christian and Islamic Art 109 (2011).

[13] Id.

[14] Id. at 108.

[15] Id. at 108 n.215 (“His exploit of vanquishing a dragon with a spear only appeared in the second state of his Passio Prima (dated 890) . . . .”). Kuehn also notes that the 7^th century Passion of Marina of Antioch contains “antecedents” of Saint Theodore’s dragon-slaying. Id.

[16] Id. at 108 n.216. Kuehn identifies the church of Saint Barbara at Soganli as possessing the earliest identifiable portrayal of Saint George vanquishing a dragon. Id.

[17] Id. at 108.

[18] See, e.g., George Ferguson, Signs and Symbols in Christian Art 16 (1954).

[19] See 2 Butler’s Lives of the Saints 148-50 (Herbert J. Thurston, S.J. & Donald Attwater eds., 2d ed. 1956).

[20] Id. at 149.

[21] Id.

[22] Id. at 150.

[23] See, e.g. Treasures of Heaven: Saints, Relics, and Devotion in Medieval Europe 92 (Martina Bagnoli et al., eds., 2010). The other three important relics were a relic of the Holy Blood, a piece of the True Cross, and the head of Saint John the Baptist. Id.

[24] Id. The lid was originally made of rock crystal. Id.

[25] William D. Wixsom, Western Metalwork, in The Treasury of San Marco Venice 282 (David Buxton ed., 1984).

[26] Treasures of Heaven, supra note 23, at 92.

[27] Id.

[28] Wixsom, supra note 25, at 282. Wixsom writes, “The horse and rider are probably directly based on Leonardo’s designs for the Sforza and Trivulzio monuments, dating respectively 1485-93 and 1506-13, even though the theme of a rearing horse goes back to the early Florentine Renaissance sculptor, Bertoldo (1420-91), to Paduan bronzes dating around 1510, and to ancient bronzes.” Id. (citations omitted).

[29] See, e.g., id.; Treasures of Heaven, supra note 23, at 92.

[30] See Edward Hollis, The Secret Lives of Buildings (2009).

[31] Id. at 55.

[32] Id.

[33] Id.

[34] Id.

[35] Id.

[36] The statute of Saint Theodore in Saint Mark’s Square, however, is a replica. The original is now located in the Doge’s Palace. A sign next to statue states that the marble statue “is a fourteenth-century sculpture with an ancient armoured bust and a young man’s head of different origins. . . . According to tradition, the saint’s face is a portrait of Mithradates of Pontus.”

The Altar of the Holy Blood

02 Saturday Mar 2013

Posted by Reliquarian in Altarpiece

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Tags

Altar of the Holy Blood, altarpiece, blood relic, Germany, Judas, pilgrimage, reliquary, Rothenburg, Saint James, Santiago de Compostela, Tilman Riemenschneider

Altar of the Holy Blood, Tilman Riemenscheider, St. Jakobskirche, Rothenburg ob der Tauber, Germany, Limewood (1501-1505). Photo by Reliquarian.

The Altar of the Holy Blood

The Altar of the Holy Blood, located at the church of Saint James (St. Jakobskirche), Rothenburg ob der Tauber, Germany, is named for the rare relic it contains: a small sample of Christ’s blood. The relic, encased in rock crystal, is set in a cross held aloft by two carved angels, enshrined above the corpus (central panel).[1] The altarpiece itself is a masterpiece of woodcarving created by the Würzburg sculptor Tilman Riemenschneider between 1501 and 1505. In the medieval period, the church of Saint James, named for the patron saint of pilgrims, was an important stop on the pilgrimage route to Santiago de Compostela in Spain, and the Holy Blood (Heilig Blut) relic was an object of intense devotion. Today, the Altar of the Holy Blood, as well as the church’s other great altarpiece, the Twelve Apostles Altar, continue to draw visitors to the church of Saint James and the picturesque, medieval town of Rothenburg.

Tilman Riemenschneider

Street view of Rothenburg ob der Tauber, Germany. Photo by Reliquarian.

Tilman Riemenschneider (1460-1531), a sculptor and woodcarver who worked primarily in the prince-bishopric of Würzburg, is considered the “most famous of all German late-Gothic sculptors.”[2] Although little is known of his early life, it is believed that he learned to sculpt while traveling in the Rhineland and Swabia, possibly in the cities of Strasbourg and Ulm. In addition to the Altar of the Holy Blood, other celebrated works by Riemenschneider include the Assumption of the Virgin Altarpiece in the Herrgottskirche, Creglingen, Germany, and the Tomb of Emperor Henry II and Empress Cunigunde in Bamberg Cathedral, Bamberg, Germany.

Altar of the Holy Blood (detail), Tilman Riemenscheider, St. Jakobskirche, Rothenburg ob der Tauber, Germany, Limewood (1501-1505). This central panel of the altar depicts the Last Supper. The central figure here, however, is Judas rather than Jesus. Photo by Reliquarian.

Design of the Altar of the Holy Blood

The central panel of the Altar of the Holy Blood depicts the Last Supper, although the figure of Christ, who is normally portrayed at the center of such scenes, has been supplanted by Judas, the Apostle who would later betray Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane. In The Limewood Sculptors of Renaissance Germany, 1475-1525, Michael Baxandall writes, “Judas is Riemenschneider’s protagonist, displacing Christ from the centre of the Corpus. . . . The emphasis on poor Judas invites meditation, though its significances are unlikely to be arcane: Judas might, for instance, be taken to stand for the lack of discrimination with which God offers grace.”[3] Citing a sermon from the 1490s by Johannes Pauli, a Franciscan writer, Baxandall observes, “Judas . . . can be a signal of hope to pilgrims poor in spirit.”[4]

The two side panels, or wings, flanking the corpus are carved in low relief and depict two other scenes from Jesus’ life: the Entry into Jerusalem and the Agony in the Garden. Near the central pinnacle of the altarpiece is a carving of the Christ of Mercy, which is approximately 3 feet tall.

Relic of the Holy Blood. The Altar of the Holy Blood (Heilig Blutaltar) is named for the relic it was designed to contain: a small sample of Christ’s blood. The relic is set in the center of the cross above, encased in rock crystal. Photo by Reliquarian.

The relic of the Holy Blood, as mentioned above, is displayed just above the corpus and below the figure of the Christ of Mercy. A contract between Riemenschneider and members of the Rothenburg city council from April 1501 describes how the relic was to be displayed. It states, “[A]bove in the shrine in the Auszug he shall carve in the middle two Angels kneeling opposite each other and holding the Holy Cross, and also above the Cross two gliding Angels . . . ; and at the sides next to the Cross, on the right the image of the Virgin Mary and on the left the Angel Gabriel of the type announcing the angelic greeting to her virgin heart . . . .”[5]

Altar of the Holy Blood, Tilman Riemenscheider, St. Jakobskirche, Rothenburg ob der Tauber, Germany, Limewood (1501-1505). Photo by Reliquarian.

A Monochrome Altarpiece

Unusual for this time period, the Altar of the Holy Blood is not gilded or painted. Rather, the wood has been left in its natural state, unfinished. Some sources have argued that Riemenschneider eschewed paint because he preferred the natural beauty of wood.[6] Alternatively, the altarpiece may have remained unpainted because it would have cost too much to paint. Julien Chapuis of the Department of Medieval Art and The Cloisters at the Metropolitan Museum of Art notes, “Retables were costly undertakings that often resulted from the collaboration of several individuals: a sculptor, a joiner, an ironmonger, and, in the case of a polychrome altarpiece, a painter.”[7] The Altar of the Holy Blood, meanwhile, was relatively inexpensive. Baxandall observes, “The sculpture is cheap, monochrome, narrative work . . . . It was very inexpensive work indeed, Riemenschneider being paid sixty Florins for the sculpture, Harschner fifty Florins for the shrinework, very little for a quite large retable in an important station . . . .”

Baxandall suggests that the absence of color “makes for a degree of alienation” and discourages “personal participation” and the “empathetic relation” one may feel toward other works.[8] He states, “The monochrome medium is like black-and-white engraving in that it declares itself as a convention, not fully identifiable with the actual person or event.”[9] In Baxandall’s opinion, the “altarpiece complements rather than abets the kind of pious attention aroused by a relic of the Holy Blood, for Riemenschneider is carving, to use Zwingli’s term, in Geschichteswyß, in a narrative way.”[10]

An Immersive Experience

Nevertheless, the opportunity to see an altarpiece in situ, especially one as significant as the Altar of the Holy Blood with its prized relic, is rare and should not be undervalued.[11] As Chapuis observes, “very few carved altarpieces have survived intact” despite their ubiquity in the late 15^th and early 16^th century in Central Europe.[12] “The destruction of religious images during the Protestant Reformation, along with neglect, changes in taste, fire, and the secularization of ecclesiastic institutions account for this loss,” he explains. “Many figures and reliefs in museum collections are merely fragments of elaborate, monstrance-like structures, which served as a focus for liturgy, veneration, and pilgrimage.”[13]

[1] See generally Julien Chapuis, Late Medieval German Sculpture: Images for the Cult and for Private Devotion, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/grmn_4/hd_grmn_4.htm (describing the four main elements of an altarpiece).

[2] Tilman Riemenschneider, Encyclopedia of World Biography (2004), available at http://www.encyclopedia.com/topic/Tilman_Riemenschneider.aspx.

[3] Michael Baxandall, The Limewood Sculptors of Renaissance Germany, 1475-1525, at 179 (1980).

[4] Id. at 180.

[5] Baxandall, supra note 3, at 174.

[6] See, e.g., “The Reredos IV: The German World – Tilman Riemenschneider,” The Society of St. Hugh of Cluny (Nov. 16, 2009), http://sthughofcluny.org/2009/11/the-reredos-iv-the-german-world-tilman-riemenschneider.html (“He was one of the German carvers of altarpieces to leave the carvings in the natural wood and abandon the gilt and painted surfaces of tradition.”); Encyclopedia of World Biography, supra note 2 (“Sensing the beauty of the wood itself, Riemenschneider frequently did not polychrome his altarpieces, a novelty at this time.”).

[7] Chapuis, supra note 1.

[8] Baxandall, supra note 3, at 186.

[9] Id.

[10] Id.

[11] See, e.g., Karen Rosenberg, At the Altar of Renaissance Tuscany, NY Times, February 14, 2013, at C32, available at http://www.nytimes.com/2013/02/15/arts/design/piero-della-francesca-in-america-at-the-frick.html?_r=0 (explaining how difficult it can be to “recreate the immersive experience” of a church setting).

[12] Chapuis, supra note 1.

[13] Id.