BYZANTINE ILLUMINATION
The rebuilding of the city of Byzantium the beginning of Byzantine
art--Justinian's fondness for building and splendour--Description of
Paul the Silentiary--Sumptuous garments--The Gospel-book of
Hormisdas--Characteristics of Byzantine work--Comparative scarcity of
examples--Rigidity of Byzantine rules of art--Periods of Byzantine
art--Examples--Monotony and lifelessness of the style.
The signal event which gave birth to mediæval illumination, or rather to
the ideas which were thereby concentrated upon the production of
magnificent books, was the rebuilding of the Imperial Palace and the
Basilica of Constantine, henceforward to be known as the Church of
Sancta Sophia, or the Divine Wisdom, at Byzantium. The Emperor Justinian
had been reigning six years when a terrific fire, caused by the
conflicts between the various seditions, called Circus factions, of the
time, almost entirely destroyed not only his own palace and the great
Christian church adjoining it, but the city of Constantinople itself. So
important a scheme of reconstruction had probably never been forced upon
a government since the great fire in Rome under Nero. Justinian, whose
early training had been of the most economical kind, and whose
disposition seemed to be rather inclined to parsimony than extravagance,
now came out in his true character. For various reasons he had hitherto
studiously concealed his master-passion; but this catastrophe of the
fire, which seemed at first so disastrous, was really a stroke of
fortune. It afforded the hitherto frugal sovereign the chance he had
long waited for of spending without stint the hoarded savings of his two
miserly predecessors, and gratifying his own tastes for magnificent
architecture and splendour of apparel.
Not only Asia, with its wealth of gold and gems, but all the known world
capable of supplying material for the reconstructions, were called upon,
and ivory, marbles, mosaics, lamps, censers, candelabra, chalices,
ciboria, crosses, furniture, fittings, pictures--in short, everything
that his own taste and the experience of four or five of the ablest
architects of the time could suggest--administered to the gorgeous, the
unspeakable splendour of the new edifices and their furniture.
Paul the Silentiary, an eye-witness of the whole proceeding, has left a
description in verse, and the accurate Du Fresne in prose, which enable
us easily to trace how the Roman city of Constantine became transformed
into the semi-oriental Byzantium of Justinian. During the two centuries
which had elapsed since the days of the first Christian emperor many
foreign luxuries had found their way into the Eastern capital. Byzantine
jewellery and Byzantine silks were already famous. The patterns on the
latter were not merely floral or geometrical, but four-footed animals,
birds, and scenes from outdoor sports formed part of the embellishment,
which, therefore, must have taken the place occupied in later times by
the tapestries of Arras and Fontainebleau.
Hitherto the Byzantines had imported their silks from Persia. After the
rebuilding of the Basilica, Justinian introduced silk-culture into
Greece. The garments ridiculed by Asterius, Bishop of Amasia, in the
fourth century, were repeated in the sixth century. "When men," says he,
"appear in the streets thus dressed, the passers-by look at them as at
painted walls. Their clothes are pictures which little children point
out to one another. The saintlier sort wear likenesses of Christ, the
Marriage of Galilee...and Lazarus raised from the dead."
On the robe of the Empress Theodora--the wife of Justinian, who is shown
in one of the mosaics of St. Vitale at Ravenna as presenting rich gifts
to that church--there is embroidered work along the border, showing the
Adoration of the Magi. _Theodora pia_ was one among the many rôles
played by that all-accomplished actress; but this seems to have been
after her death. Like Lucrezia Borgia, perhaps, she was better than her
reputation. With such surroundings liturgical books could not have
existed without sharing in the universal luxury of enrichment. And, in
point of fact, we still have records of such books. While Justinian
reigned in Byzantium it happened that Hormisdas, a native of Frosinone,
was Pope of Rome. He was a zealous eradicator of heresy (especially of
the Eutychian and Manichæan), and in recognition of his services in this
direction the Greek Emperor, with his thanks, sent him a great
Gospel-book richly decorated, no doubt, with those splendid Eusebian
canons and portraits of the Evangelists, the like of which we see in the
Byzantine examples still preserved at Paris, in London, and elsewhere.
Plates of beaten gold, studded with gems, formed the covers of the
Gospel-book of Hormisdas.
Nor was this sumptuous volume the only, or even a rare, example of its
kind. We read that the art of book decoration had become a fashionable
craze. No expense was spared in the search for costly materials. Colours
were imported from India, Persia, and Spain, including vermilion and
ultramarine, while the renowned Byzantine gold ink was manufactured from
imported Indian gold. Persian calligraphers had taught its use afresh to
the Byzantine scribes.
If, as we may believe, the first object of the Roman miniatores was
distinctness combined with beauty, we may now believe that the object of
the Byzantine scribes was splendour. The progress had been from mere
"cheirography" to calligraphy; now it was from calligraphy to
chrysography and arguriography.
This employment of gold and silver inks may be looked upon as the first
step in the art of illumination as practised in the Middle Ages. And the
preliminary to the use of metallic inks was attention to the tint of the
vellum. The pioneers in this career of luxury no doubt had observed that
very white vellum fatigued the eye. Hence, at first, they tinted or
stained it with saffron, on one side at least, sometimes on both. Once
begun, the tinting of the vellum extended to other colours. For works of
the highest rank the favourite was a fine purple, the imperial colour of
the Roman and Greek emperors. For chrysography, or gold-writing, the
tint was nearly what we call crimson. For arguriography, or
silver-writing, it became the bluish hue we call grape-purple. On the
cooled purples vermilion ink was used instead of, or together with, the
gold or silver. As the usage began with the Greeks, we may be sure that
it came originally from Asia.
The Emperor Nero, once having heard that an Olympic Ode of Pindar in
letters of gold was laid up in one of the temples at Athens, desired
that certain verses of his own should be similarly written and dedicated
on the Altar of Jupiter Capitolinus at Rome. This was an imperial luxury
several times repeated by other princes.
After the official establishment of Christianity it became a common
practice to have the greater liturgical books executed in the same
costly fashion. And between the time of Constantine and that of Basil
the Macedonian many a burning homily was directed against the custom,
denounced as a sinful extravagance, which no doubt it was, but in vain
until the fashion had worn itself out.
It might fairly be expected, this being the case, that many examples of
this kind of codex would still be in existence. But owing to war, fire,
robbery, and other misfortunes but very few remain. One of the oldest
and finest is the so-called _Codex Argenteus_, or Silver-book, now kept
at Upsala, in Sweden, containing portions of the Gospels of the
Mæsogothic Bishop Ulfilas. Originally the effect of the stamped or
burnished silver on the rich purple of the vellum must have been very
splendid, but now the action of the air has blackened it, as it has done
in many other instances where silver was used in illumination. Even gold
will gather tarnish, and in several such MSS. has turned of a rusty red.
Gold ink was not invariably confined to tinted vellum; it was often used
on the plain ground. The copy of the Old Testament in Greek, presented
by the high priest Eleazar to King Ptolemy Philadelphus, was a roll of
fine white vellum, upon which the text was written in letters of gold.
To enter upon the antiquities of Greek palæography would lead us too far
from our track in view of the brevity of our present survey. We
therefore with some reluctance turn from this interesting topic to our
more immediate subject. We may remark, however, that the great majority
of Greek MSS. are written on vellum. In the eleventh century are found
instances of what is called _charta bombycina_, or cotton-paper,
appearing more plentifully in the twelfth century, but on the whole
vellum is the chief material of Byzantine illuminated books. Much has
been said about the want of life and total lack of variety of treatment
in this school of art. To a very great extent the charge is just, yet it
could scarcely be otherwise. The one circumstance which compelled
Byzantine work to remain so long as if cast in one unalterable mould,
and thus to differ so strangely from that of Western artists, was due to
the fact that in very early Christian times the scribes and illuminators
were enrolled into a minutely organised corporation originating
primarily in monasticism, but by no means confined to the monastic
Orders. Lay guilds existed, the regulations and methods of which were
rigid beyond modern belief. So that, as a class, Byzantine art has
acquired the reputation of a soulless adherence to mechanical rules and
precedents, depriving it of originality and even of individuality, and
therefore excluding the remotest scintilla of artistic genius. Of the
great crowd of examples of ordinary work this may be true, but it
certainly is not true of the best, by which it has the right to be
judged, as we shall see from the examples referred to by-and-by.
Certainly there is one invaluable particular in which Greek MSS. are
superior to those of the West, Latin or otherwise. That is, they are
much more frequently signed with the names, localities, and dates of the
copyists and illuminators.
It will be some help towards our knowledge of this school if we divide
its existence into chronological sections or periods.
1. From præ-Christianity to the Age of Justinian, _i.e._ down to the
year 535. (Justinian reigned from 526 to 564.)
This period marks the decadence of ancient art, but carries with it the
characteristics and methods of the ancient Greek painters.
2. From the Age of Justinian to the Iconoclastic paralysis of art under
Leo III. the Isaurian, _i.e._ 564 to 726. (Leo reigned from 717 to 741.)
During this period vast numbers of illuminated liturgical books were
destroyed for religious or fanatical reasons, just as in our own
Cromwellian times numbers of _Horæ_, Missals, etc., were destroyed as
papistical and superstitious.
This Edict of 726 did not absolutely put an end to all art in MSS. It
only had the effect of excluding images of God, Christ, and the saints,
as in Arabian and Persian MSS., leaving the artist the free use of
flowers, plants, and line ornament, after the manner of the Mohammedan
arabesques.
3. From Leo III. to the Empress Irene, who restored the worship of
images in part, _i.e._ from 741 to 785. (Irene ruled from 780 to 801.)
This was a period of stagnation, though by no means of extinction of
art.
4. From Irene to Basil I. the Macedonian, _i.e._ from 801 to 867.
A half-century and more of rapid renaissance to the most brilliant epoch
of Byzantine art since the time of Justinian, if not the zenith of the
school.
Basil I. was a great builder--building, in fact, was his ruling
passion--so that it may be said that he took Justinian for his model
both as a ruler and as a patron of the arts. (He reigned from 867 to
886.)
5. From Basil the Macedonian to the Fall of Constantinople, _i.e._ from
886 to 1453.
Allowing for a few flashes of expiring skill in various reigns, this may
be considered as a period of gradual but certain decline to a state
worse than death, for though the monks of Greek and Russian convents
still kept up the execution of MSS., it was only with the driest and
most lifeless adhesion to the Manual. This so-called art still exists,
but more like a magnetised corpse than a living thing.
Examples of the first period are seldom met with. We have one signal
specimen in the British Museum Add. MS. 5111, being two leaves only of a
Gospel-book, and containing part of the Eusebian canons, or
contents-tables of the Four Gospels, etc. The work is attributed to the
time of Justinian himself. It is of the kind already referred to as
probably affording the model of work to the early illuminators of France
and Ireland, and as being like the Gospel-book of Hormisdas and those
brought to England by Augustine in 596. Another example of the same
Eusebian canons is found in Roy. MS. 1 E. vi.
Of the fourth period--_i.e._ the ninth century--perhaps the most typical
example is the Menologium (a sort of compound of a calendar and lives of
the saints), now in the Vatican Library (MS. Gr. 1613). This MS. shows
that the revival under Basil the Macedonian was a return not to Roman,
but to ancient Greek art, the facial types being of the purest classical
character.
[Illustration:
EVANG. GRÆCA
6TH CENT.
_Brit. Mus. Add. MS. 5111, fol. 13_]
[Illustration:
EVANG. GRÆCA
9TH CENT.
_Brit. Mus. Burney MS. 19 fol. 1 v._]
In some of them we see the horizontal frown of the Homeric heroes
({~GREEK SMALL LETTER SIGMA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER UPSILON WITH
TONOS~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER NU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON~}{~GREEK
SMALL LETTER PHI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER RHO~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER
UPSILON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER FINAL SIGMA~} {~GREEK CAPITAL LETTER
OMICRON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER DELTA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER
UPSILON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER SIGMA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER SIGMA~}{~GREEK
SMALL LETTER EPSILON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER UPSILON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER
FINAL SIGMA~}), and of the Georgian and Armenian races shown in the
features of the Emperor Johannes Ducas. We have, too, the large Hera-
like eye with its mystic gaze, which, in later Byzantine work, becomes
first a gaze of lofty indifference, as in the portraits of the emperors
and empresses, and lastly a stony and expressionless stare; still, if
possible, more stony and glaring when transferred to Celtic and
Carolingian Gospel-books. (See chapter on Carolingian Illumination.)
Of this fourth period we might indeed point to many examples. One must
suffice. It is the beautiful Greek Psalter, now at Paris (MS., p. 139),
containing lovely examples of antique design, including remarkable
personifications or allegorical figures. In this MS. is one of the most
graceful personifications ever painted, that of _Night_, with her veil
of gauze studded with stars floating overhead. The seven pictures from
the Life of David are among the best ever put into a MS. But
personification is carried to an extreme. Thus the Red Sea, the Jordan,
Rivers, Mountains, Night, Dawn, etc., are all represented as persons.
The drawings are really beautiful and the illuminated initials and
general ornament in good taste.
For other examples the reader may consult the British Museum Cat. of
Addit. MSS., 1841-5, p. 87; also Du Sommerard, _Les Arts au Moyen-âge_,
tom. v., 1846, pp. 107, 162-8, and album, 2e sér. pl. xxix., 8e sér.
pl. xii.-xvi.
It is noticeable in these Byzantine pictures that while the
figure-painting is often really excellent, the design skilful, and the
pose natural, the landscape, trees, etc., are quite symbolic and
fanciful. The painters seem to have been utterly ignorant of
perspective. Buildings, too, without any regard to relative proportion,
are coloured merely as parts of a colour scheme. They are pink, pale
green, yellow, violet, blue, just to please the eye. That the painter
had a system of colour-harmony is plain, but he paid no regard to the
facts of city life, unless, indeed, it was the practice of the mediæval
Byzantines to paint the outside of their houses in this truly brilliant
style. Possibly they did so; we have similar things in Italy even
nowadays.
No doubt the French illuminators of the thirteenth and fourteenth
centuries drew from these sources both their perspective and their
architectural colouring. As for ornamental illumination, the principal
method of decoration was a square heading,[10] perhaps including a
semicircular arch sweeping over several arcades, the corners and
wall-space being occupied either with arabesque patterns, showing them
to be after the time of Leo III., or with scrolls of line-ornament
enriched with acanthus foliages. Under this the scribe has placed his
title.
[10] It has been thought to represent the Greek {~GREEK SMALL LETTER
PI~}, and to mean {~GREEK SMALL LETTER PI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER UPSILON
WITH TONOS~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER LAMDA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ETA~}, a
gate or door.
[Illustration:
CARVED IVORY COVER
LATIN PSALTER OF MELLISENDA
12TH CENT.
_Brit. Mus. Egert. MS. 1139_]
[Illustration:
CODEX AURENS
(GOLDEN GOSPELS OF ATHELSTAN)
C. 835
_Brit. Mus. Harl. MS. 2788, fol. 176_]
Other examples have a square frame filled with the latter kind of
scrolls and foliages, leaving a sort of open panel in the centre, in
which is placed a small scene of sacred history or perhaps of country
life. Sometimes the title, in golden letters, is surrounded with
medallions containing heads of Christ and the Virgin, apostles, and
saints. The peculiar interlacing bands of violet, yellow, rose, blue,
etc., which are still often seen in Russian ornament, are also features
of these Byzantine MSS.; but most of all is the lavish use of gold.
Perhaps the fact most to be remembered about these MSS. is that the
painters of them worked in a manner that was absolutely fixed and rigid,
the rules of which are laid down in a manual called the _Guide to
Painting_, a work which has been translated by M. Didron.
So fixed and unalterable, indeed, is the manner that there is absolutely
no difference to indicate relative antiquity between a MS. of the
eleventh century and one of the sixteenth or even later, we might almost
say, of the present day. In the matter of saint-images this is strictly
true.