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Ars Memoriae Vincit Oblivionem

Month: April 2024

  • Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio(1571–1610), Death of the Virgin, 1604-1606

     Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio (1571–1610), Death of the Virgin, 1604-1606, Oil on canvas, 369 cm × 245 cm, The Louvre

    Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio (1571–1610), Death of the Virgin, 1604-1606, Oil on canvas, 369 cm × 245 cm, The Louvre

    Completed between 1605 and 1606, the painting is one of the most poignant and controversial depictions of death in the 17th century art, encapsulating the artist’s uncompromising realism and the turbulence of his personal life. Commissioned by Laerzio Cherubini for the church of Santa Maria della Scala in Rome, it was rejected by the Discalced Carmelites, the shoeless Carmelite order, due to its stark realism and perceived lack of decorum. The clergy were scandalised by Caravaggio’s unvarnished portrayal of the Virgin Mary as a lifeless, barefoot woman lying on a simple wooden plank, surrounded by grieving apostles.

    The identity of the model for the Virgin has long been debated. Some suggest Caravaggio used the body of Anna Bianchini, a red-haired courtesan who had recently died, as the model. This theory, though never confirmed, stems from Caravaggio’s well-known associations with courtesans, such as Fillide Melandroni, Lena (Maddalena Antognetti), and Anna Bianchini, who had posed for his religious works. His relationships with these women have raised questions about their roles in his life—whether as models, lovers, or something more. However, the model’s identity was not the primary cause of the painting’s rejection.

    The Carmelites eventually replaced the work with a more conventional depiction by Carlo Saraceni, who portrayed Mary in an ecstatic ascent to heaven, adhering to the idealised norms of religious art.

    At the time of the painting’s creation, Caravaggio’s life was increasingly chaotic. His connections with courtesans like Fillide Melandroni, who was involved with Ranuccio Tomassoni, a notorious pimp, intensified the tensions surrounding him. These conflicts came to a head in 1606 when Caravaggio fatally wounded Tomassoni during a duel. The exact cause of the duel remains unclear, but after Tomassoni’s death, Caravaggio was forced to flee Rome, effectively ending his career in the city and beginning his life in exile.

    Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio (1571–1610), Death of the Virgin, 1604-1606, Oil on canvas, 369 cm × 245 cm, The Louvre

  • Saint-Nicolas-des-Champs, Paris: From a Hundred Years War Gothic Foundation through Renaissance Portals to the Early Classicism of Louis XIII

    Saint-Nicolas-des-Champs, 254 Rue Saint-Martin, Paris

    At the edge of the old priory of Saint-Martin-des-Champs, the parish church of Saint-Nicolas-des-Champs offers a rare opportunity to trace the layered history of Parisian sacred architecture across four centuries. Rather than replacing one style with another, each generation built on what was already present, producing a structure where Gothic endurance, Renaissance enrichment, and Baroque restraint coexist in deliberate tension. This balance between inheritance and innovation lies at the heart of the French approach to architectural transformation.

    The medieval foundations are visible in the Flamboyant Gothic fabric of the west front and nave, constructed between about 1420 and 1480, whose soaring verticals and elaborate tracery still govern the church’s spatial character. Far from being demolished or suppressed, these Gothic elements remained the framework for later interventions. Their survival illustrates the continuity of medieval forms in French religious architecture, even at a moment when new ideas from Italy were beginning to influence Paris.

    Renaissance entered the building most clearly with the south portal of 1576–1586, which adopts the triumphal arch vocabulary popularised in France by Philibert Delorme (1514–1570). This portal does not overwhelm the Gothic body but overlays it with measured classical articulation, showing how Paris absorbed Italian motifs through a filter of restraint. Recent restoration in 2020–2021 has revealed its finely cut stonework and clarified its role as a marker of late sixteenth-century civic pride as much as liturgical use.

    The decisive transformation came in the early seventeenth century, when the high altar and surrounding chapels were conceived as a unified cycle of sacred imagery. The monumental altar screen, associated with Clément II Métezeau (c.1581–1652), is crowned by two canvases by Simon Vouet (1590–1649), The Apostles at the Tomb of the Virgin and The Assumption of the Virgin, both dated 1629. The ensemble, flanked by four kneeling angels sculpted by Jacques Sarazin (1592–1660), remains one of the very few complete Parisian high altars of this scale to survive the Revolution. Its purpose was not theatrical effect, as in Rome, but clarity and doctrinal emphasis, reflecting the preference of Henri IV (1553–1610) and Louis XIII (1601–1643) for sober magnificence and persuasive order that defines restrained, classicising Baroque in Paris.

    Around the same period, individual chapels were adorned with paintings that collectively form one of the richest decorative programmes in Paris. The chapel of Méry de Vic (d.1622), Keeper of the Seals, was furnished with Frans Pourbus the Younger’s (1569–1622) La Vierge de la famille de Vic (c.1617–1621), a work that combines Flemish precision with monumental French portraiture. Above, Georges Lallemant (c.1575–1636) frescoed an Assumption of the Virgin between about 1618 and 1622, creating a thematic ascent that leads the viewer’s eye toward Vouet’s great altar. In nearby chapels, Quentin Varin (c.1575–1634) produced La Chute des anges rebelles (1623), while Michel Corneille the Elder (1601–1664) added a Resurrection fresco in the mid-1640s, rediscovered and restored in 2010–2011. These works reflect the assimilation of Italianate composition and Flemish naturalism into a distinctly Parisian idiom.

    Music and furnishing also testify to the church’s continuous enrichment. Organs are recorded from 1418, and a significant new instrument by Jacques Pigache was built in 1571. The seventeenth century saw further enlargement under Crépin Carlier (c.1567–1636) and the construction of a grand case by Guillaume Noyer in the 1630s, followed by later interventions by François-Henri Clicquot (1732–1790) and John Abbey (1785–1859). Despite modernisation in the mid-twentieth century, the instrument remains one of the most historically valuable organs in Paris, maintaining its layered character much like the church itself.

    Saint-Nicolas-des-Champs, Paris
    Saint-Nicolas-des-Champs, Paris
    Saint-Nicolas-des-Champs, Paris

    References

    Dargaud, M. (1975) L’église Saint-Nicolas-des-Champs à Paris: étude historique et archéologique. Thèse d’École des chartes. Paris: Archives nationales, cote AB XXVIII 617. Available at: https://bibnum.chartes.psl.eu/s/thenca/item/47711 (Accessed: 15 April 2024).

    Gray-Durant, D. (2015) Blue Guide Paris. 12th edn. London: Somerset Books

  • Église Saint-Roch in Paris

    Église Saint-Roch in Paris is a compelling example of the fusion between Baroque and Neoclassical architecture, where the Baroque canons established in the 17th century continued to be utilised well into the 18th century during its prolonged construction period. The project began in 1653 under the direction of Jacques Lemercier (1585–1654), who designed the church to replace an existing chapel dedicated to Saint Suzanne. On 23 March 1653, King Louis XIV and his mother, Anne of Austria, laid the foundation stone. However, due to financial constraints, construction was halted in 1660, leaving the church unfinished for several decades.

    In 1701, construction resumed under the guidance of Jules Hardouin-Mansart (1646–1708), a prominent architect of the French Baroque. Hardouin-Mansart introduced classical elements, including square pillars with Doric pilasters and floral motifs. After his death, Pierre Bullet (1639–1716) continued the work, further developing the classical features that had been introduced.

    Around 1730, the church’s façade and cupola were reconstructed in a style inspired by the Church of Gesù in Rome, embodying the  Jesuit Baroque architectural influence.

    The church is distinguished by its blend of Baroque and Classical styles, particularly in the Chapel of the Virgin, completed in 1709 under Hardouin-Mansart. This chapel features a dome with an ‘Assumption’ painted by Jean-Baptiste Marie Pierre (1713–1789) between 1749 and 1756. The altar, originally adorned by Étienne Maurice Falconet (1716–1791), was later enhanced with the ‘Nativity of Val-de-Grâce‘ by Michel Anguier (1612–1686) in 1805.

    Église Saint-Roch, Paris
    Église Saint-Roch, Paris

    References

    Patrimoine & Histoire- Église Saint-Roch à Paris [online]. Available at: https://www.patrimoine-histoire.fr/Patrimoine/Paris/Paris-Saint-Roch.htm (Accessed: 12 April 2024).

    Gray-Durant, D. (2015) Blue Guide Paris. 12th edn. London: Somerset Books

  • Designed by Jean Baptist I Lemoyne (1679-1731) and executed and finished by Jean-Baptist I| Lemoyne (1704-1778), ‘The Baptism of Christ,’ 1731.

    Designed by Jean Baptist I Lemoyne (1679-1731) and executed and finished by Jean-Baptist I| Lemoyne (1704-1778), The Baptism of Christ, 1731, Marble sculpture, 206 x 196 cm, Church of Saint-Roch, Paris

    Designed by Jean Baptist I Lemoyne (1679-1731) and executed and finished by Jean-Baptist I| Lemoyne (1704-1778), The Baptism of Christ, 1731, Marble sculpture, 206 x 196 cm, Church of Saint-Roch, Paris

    Commissioned in 1719 for the Church of Saint-Jean-en-Grève in Paris, which was demolished between 1797 and 1800, the sculpture was completed only in 1731. This work marked the beginning of Lemoyne’s public career, a project offered to him after his uncle’s death left it unfinished. “The Baptism of Christ” is notable as one of Lemoyne’s few large-scale works to remain intact; most of his other significant works have been destroyed in the aftermath of the Revolution.

    The sculpture’s remarkable quality lies in its vivid and dynamic portrayal of a fleeting, emotional moment. It effectively freezes the action in expressive detail—from the water cascading onto Christ’s head to the vivid expressions of the figures, capturing St. John in a state of overwhelming emotion.

    The iconography in “The Baptism of Christ” aligns with the biblical description found in Matthew 3:15-17. In this passage, Jesus approaches John the Baptist and explains that he must be baptised ‘to fulfil all righteousness.’ John the Baptist, the precursor, prepares for the messianic arrival of Jesus. The composition captures John’s initial hesitation and subsequent awe at Jesus’s humility, symbolising his acceptance. After his baptism, the heavens open, the Spirit of God descends like a dove, and a voice from heaven declares Jesus as the beloved Son, expressing divine pleasure in him.

    This scriptural moment, captured in Lemoyne’s marble, is pivotal as it marks the public beginning of Jesus’ ministry and God’s confirmation of His sonship and mission. The sculpture vividly embodies this scene, emphasising the divine approval and the miraculous aspects of the event, as described in the verses from Matthew’s Gospel.

  • Master of Rohan (active c.1430–c.1445), Lamentation of the Virgin (f. 135, Pl. 57) from the Hours of the Cross in The Grandes Heures de Rohan, 1430–1435


    Master of Rohan (active in the 1430–1440s), Lamentation of the Virgin (f. 135, Pl. 57) from the Hours of the Cross in The Grandes Heures de Rohan, 1430–1435, tempera and golden leaf on parchment. Bibliothèque Nationale, on short-term loan to Musée de Cluny, Paris

    Master of Rohan (active c.1430–c.1445), Lamentation of the Virgin (f. 135, Pl. 57) from the Hours of the Cross in The Grandes Heures de Rohan, 1430–1435, tempera and golden leaf on parchment. Bibliothèque Nationale, on short-term loan to the Musée de Cluny, Paris

    The Grandes Heures de Rohan, produced between 1430 and 1435 by the elusive Master of Rohan and his workshop, is striking for the emotional intensity and spiritual gravity it brings to late medieval illumination. Unlike many Books of Hours of the period, which balance decorative splendour with devotional content, the Rohan Hours is consumed by pathos, its imagery unfolding in sombre and dramatic tones. Nowhere is this more apparent than in the Lamentation of the Virgin, where the grieving Mother of Christ collapses in anguish, inconsolable despite the presence of the Apostle John, who turns his gaze upwards in distress towards a sorrowful God.

    The Master of Rohan’s art lies in his ability to translate human emotion into pictorial form. Facial expression, gesture, the tilt of the Virgin’s head, the sweep of her veil, and the sharp, angular poses of the supporting figures transform the scene into a meditation on grief and redemption. Rather than offering a static devotional image, he presents an urgent, almost theatrical confrontation with the themes of death and suffering.

    Placed in the wider context of French manuscript illumination of the 1430s, the Rohan Hours appears radical. The Bedford Master, active at the French court in the same decade, worked in a refined International Gothic style—brilliant colours, elegant contours, and careful ornament that celebrated clarity and beauty. Even moments of sorrow in the Bedford Hours remain codified, contained within the expected decorum of aristocratic art. The Master of Rohan, by contrast, rejected elegance in favour of psychological immediacy. He pressed figures up against the surface of the page, distorted their proportions, and abandoned strict spatial coherence, producing compositions where raw emotion overwhelms formal order.

    In this the Rohan Master anticipated the visual strategies of Netherlandish painters such as Rogier van der Weyden (c.1399–1464), whose great altarpieces of the 1440s made human grief palpable through tears, twisted bodies, and gestures of lament. Both artists belonged to a culture of affective piety, shaped by movements such as the Devotio Moderna, which encouraged meditation on the Passion through vivid empathy rather than detached contemplation. The Rohan Hours shares this impulse: its images demand not admiration of craftsmanship alone but emotional participation in Christ’s suffering and the Virgin’s grief.

    Patronage, too, shaped this departure. The manuscript was probably commissioned for a member of the circle of Yolande of Aragon (1384–1442), one of the most influential female rulers of the period and a central figure in the politics of Charles VII’s court. In such a milieu, devotion was inseparable from questions of power, lineage, and personal salvation. The intensity of the Rohan imagery reflects this environment: it is a manuscript not designed to flatter but to confront, a book of private prayer whose illuminations carry the weight of tragedy as much as hope.

  • School of Tournai, The liberation of the apostle Peter, before 1461

    School of Tournai, The Liberation of the Apostle Peter, before 1461, wool warp, wool wefts with silk wefts, 272 × 221 cm, Musée de Cluny, Paris


    School of Tournai, The Liberation of the Apostle Peter, before 1461, wool warp, wool wefts with silk wefts, 272 × 221 cm, Musée de Cluny, Paris

    School of Tournai, The liberation of the apostle Peter, before 1461, wool warp, wool wefts with silk wefts, 272 × 221 cm, Musée de Cluny, Paris

    The tapestry The liberation of the apostle Peter, woven in Tournai before 1461, embodies the dual identity of a city that was politically French yet artistically aligned with the Burgundian Netherlands. Tournai alone among the towns of the southern Low Countries remained under the French crown after the Treaty of Arras (1435), but its painters and weavers were deeply enmeshed in the stylistic world of the Burgundian court. This tension produced works that answered French patronage while speaking in the visual language of Burgundian realism and drama.

    The design of the tapestry is attributed to Jacques Daret (c.1404–c.1470), who trained in the workshop of Robert Campin (c.1375–1444), the pioneering master of realism in Tournai. It forms the fifth panel in a cycle devoted to the Life of Saint Peter, commissioned by Guillaume de Hellande (d.1462), bishop of Beauvais from 1444 until his death, for the choir of Saint-Pierre Cathedral. The bishop’s arms, alongside those of the cathedral chapter, occupy the corners of the tapestry, asserting both personal and institutional authority. Woven throughout is the word paix, a pointed reminder of the truces and treaties of the 1440s and early 1450s that finally brought the Hundred Years’ War to an end in 1453.

    The iconography draws on Acts 12:5–17, the miraculous liberation of Peter from Herod’s prison. The angel of the Lord strikes Peter’s chains loose while the guards lie asleep, oblivious to the divine intervention unfolding beside them. The tapestry captures not only the miracle itself but Peter’s own astonishment, faithful to the biblical passage in which he admits that he thought the escape was a vision until he stood outside the gates. The narrative affirms both divine providence and the resilience of the early Church gathered in fellowship at the house of Mary, mother of John Mark.

    As a commission, the tapestry carried layered meanings. For Bishop Guillaume de Hellande, its imagery proclaimed liberation, providence, and peace, themes resonant in a France weary of war. Its heraldry and inscriptions tied the miracle of Peter directly to the civic and ecclesiastical identity of Beauvais, presenting the apostle’s deliverance as a paradigm for national renewal.

    Stylistically, the tapestry demonstrates how Tournai ateliers translated painterly invention into textile form. Daret’s Campin-trained eye emerges in the taut gestures, expressive faces, and heightened realism of detail, qualities also associated with Rogier van der Weyden (c.1399–1464), another Tournai-trained painter. While Netherlandish panel painters achieved these effects in oil, the Tournai weavers monumentalised them in wool and silk, producing works that fused narrative immediacy with the splendour of rich materials.

    The tapestry thus stands at a crossroads: politically French, culturally Burgundian, and theologically universal. It exemplifies the power of fifteenth-century tapestry to serve as both devotional image and public statement, weaving together the threads of biblical narrative, local patronage, and the wider longing for peace.


    School of Tournai, The Liberation of the Apostle Peter, before 1461, wool warp, wool wefts with silk wefts, 272 × 221 cm, Musée de Cluny, Paris

  • Leonardo di ser Piero da Vinci (1452 –1519), Portrait of a  Lady of the Court, formerly known  as La Belle Ferronière, 1490-1497

    Leonardo di ser Piero da Vinci (1452 –1519), Portrait of a  Lady of the Court, formerly known  as La Belle Ferronière, 1490-1497, Oil on walnut, 62 cm × 44 cm, The Louvre, Paris

    Leonardo di ser Piero da Vinci (1452 –1519), Portrait of a  Lady of the Court, formerly known  as La Belle Ferronière, 1490-1497, Oil on walnut, 62 cm × 44 cm, The Louvre, Paris

    This portrait by Leonardo da Vinci, historically misidentified as ‘La Belle Ferronnière’, enjoyed fame in the 19th century and is comparable to ‘La Giaconda’ today. It depicts a woman dressed in the late 15th-century Milanese ducal court style. Despite much speculation, her identity remains uncertain. Early attributions suggested she was a Duchess of Mantua, while later theories proposed she could be Lucrezia Crivelli, a mistress of Ludovico Sforza, Duke of Milan. However, none of these identifications have been conclusively verified.

    The title ‘La Belle Ferronnière’ was only assigned in the 17th century and is actually a misnomer. It was once thought to refer to the wife of an ironmonger (or ‘ferronnier’) or a mistress of King Francis I of France, but there is no historical evidence to support any of these claims. This misidentification fuelled the romanticised narratives surrounding the painting in the 19th century. During this period, art historians and collectors were captivated by stories of intrigue, romance, and drama tied to the sitter’s identity and supposed connections to Leonardo himself. This fascination reflected a broader romanticisation of the Renaissance, emphasising passion, mystery, and the allure of the unknown.

    As modern scholarship began scrutinising these myths, many were discredited, leading to a shift in focus from the legendary stories to the painting’s intrinsic artistic value.

    Today, the portrait is respected not for romanticised tales of intrigue, but for Leonardo’s exquisite depiction and mastery of portraiture. The painting is now appreciated for its technical skill and insight into the fashion and elegance of the Milanese ducal court in Leonardo’s time. Although its fame has diminished compared to its 19th-century status, the portrait remains a significant piece in Leonardo’s oeuvre, allowing modern viewers to connect with the Renaissance era in a more grounded, historically accurate way.

  • L’église de la Madeleine, Paris

    L’église de la Madeleine, Place de la Madeleine, Paris

    L’église de la Madeleine reflects the changing political and architectural aims of France between the mid-eighteenth and mid-nineteenth centuries. Its construction lasted for around eighty years, interrupted and reshaped by successive regimes, each of which redefined both its purpose and its design.

    The commission began in 1757 under Pierre Contant d’Ivry (1698–1777), whose approved plans of 1764 set out a Latin-cross layout with a modest dome. King Louis XV laid the foundation stone in 1763, but after d’Ivry’s death in 1777 the work stalled. Étienne-Louis Boullée was briefly considered to take over, yet it was d’Ivry’s pupil Guillaume-Martin Couture who assumed control. Drawing inspiration from Jacques-Germain Soufflot, Couture abandoned the Latin-cross plan in favour of a Greek cross, enlarging the dome and adding a Corinthian portico.

    The French Revolution brought building to a standstill. During the Consulate, proposals ranged from turning the unfinished shell into a National Library to adapting it as an Opera House, but none advanced beyond the planning stage. In 1806 Napoleon gave the project a new role as a Temple of Glory for the Grande Armée. He appointed Pierre-Alexandre Vignon (1763–1828), who took inspiration from Greco-Roman architecture, especially the Olympiaion in Athens, to design a monumental colonnaded temple. Work continued until 1811, when financial pressures forced another halt.

    Following Napoleon’s fall, the Bourbon Restoration reinstated the original plan for a church. After Vignon’s death in 1828, responsibility passed to Jean-Jacques-Marie Huvé. His work was slowed by the political unrest of the 1830 Revolution, yet he introduced a new decorative scheme that included polychromy and a sculptural pediment by Philippe Joseph Henri Lemaire, installed in 1833 and depicting ‘The Last Judgement’. More than eighty artists contributed to the interior. At its centre is Carlo Marochetti’s ‘Ecstasy of Mary Magdalene’ (1805–1867), while the choir features a mural cycle by Jules-Claude Ziegler (1804–1856) showing major events in the history of Christianity in France.

    The building was finally completed in 1842 and consecrated in 1845. Its severe classical exterior, modelled on ancient temple architecture, conceals a richly decorated interior. The result is a work that captures not only the neoclassical ideals of its time but also the political turbulence and changing cultural ambitions of France over nearly a century.

    L’église de la Madeleine, Paris
    L’église de la Madeleine, Paris
    L’église de la Madeleine, Paris
    L’église de la Madeleine, Paris
    L’église de la Madeleine, Paris
    L’église de la Madeleine, Paris
    L’église de la Madeleine, Paris
    L’église de la Madeleine, Paris

    References

    Gray-Durant, D. (2015) Blue Guide Paris. 12th edn. London: Somerset Books

  • Église Saint-Merri (Médéric), Paris

    Église Saint-Merri, 76 rue de la Verrerie, Paris

    The current church, constructed on the site where the relics of Saint Mederic (d. 29 August 700) — known in French as Saint Merri or Médéric — were venerated, was built between 1500 and 1565, with substantial extensions added during the 17th and 18th centuries.

    Saint Mederic, originally a monk from Autun who became a hermit near Paris, was revered after his death as the patron saint of the Right Bank of the Seine. His cult was actively promoted in the Middle Ages, particularly under Emperor Charles the Bald (823–877) of the Carolingian dynasty, who reinforced its prominence within the city’s sacred topography.

    Although erected during the Renaissance, the church was designed in the Flamboyant Gothic style, which by the early sixteenth century was already perceived as somewhat anachronistic compared with the new classical idioms spreading from Italy. Yet in France, Gothic retained a special association with sacred architecture and remained the preferred language for parish churches and cathedrals well into the 16th century. To contemporary patrons, the Gothic idiom conveyed continuity, solemnity, and spiritual authority, whereas Renaissance classicism was often reserved for palaces, hôtels particuliers, and secular civic buildings. In this sense, the choice of Flamboyant Gothic for Saint-Merri was not a failure to modernise, but a conscious decision to root the new structure within the lineage of French ecclesiastical tradition.

    Despite substantial 18th-century modifications, the church has preserved its Flamboyant Gothic core and overall architectural coherence. Gothic pillars are seamlessly integrated with Renaissance arcades, and large sections of stained glass, together with elaborate floral and vegetal motifs, intricate sculptures, and fantastical creatures, heighten its visual richness.

    Saint-Merri houses an important collection of sacred art. Surviving 16th-century stained glass windows depict episodes from the lives of saints, including Saint Francis of Assisi and Saint Mary Magdalene . Notable later additions include a 17th-century Pietà by Nicolas Legendre (active in Paris c.1620–1670, a sculptor and architect associated with many Parisian churches), several 18th-century works by Carle Van Loo (1705–1765), and frescoes by Théodore Chassériau (1819–1856).

    The Communion Chapel, added in 1745 by the architect Germain Boffrand (1667–1754), incorporates classical elements such as Corinthian pilasters and three expansive glass domes. Designed for the exhibition of the Blessed Sacrament, it is adorned with bas-reliefs carved by the Slodtz brothers — Sébastien-Antoine Slodtz (1695–1754) and Paul-Ambroise Slodtz (1702–1758), sculptors active under Louis XV — depicting angels holding the Bible and the chalice. The chapel also contains a painting of the pilgrims at Emmaus by Charles-Antoine Coypel (1694–1752).

    The organ, reconstructed in 1781 by François-Henri Clicquot (1732–1790), is of considerable historical importance. Camille Saint-Saëns (1835–1921) served as organist from 1853 to 1857, performing on this very instrument. Finally, the church bell, cast in 1331, is the oldest surviving bell in Paris, providing a tangible link to its medieval origin.

    Église Saint-Merri, 76 rue de la Verrerie, Paris
    Église Saint-Merri, 76 rue de la Verrerie, Paris
    Église Saint-Merri, 76 rue de la Verrerie, Paris
    Église Saint-Merri, 76 rue de la Verrerie, Paris

    References

    Gray-Durant, D. (2015) Blue Guide Paris. 12th edn. London: Somerset Books

    Patrimoine & Histoire- Église Saint-Roch à Paris [online]. Available at: https://www.patrimoine-histoire.fr/Patrimoine/Paris/Paris-Saint-Merry.htm (Accessed: 12 April 2024).

  • Agnolo di Cosimo, called il Bronzino (1503- 1572), Noli Me Tangere, 1561

     

    Agnolo di Cosimo, called il Bronzino( 1503-1572), Noli Me Tangere, 1561, Oil on poplar, 291 x 195 cm, The Louvre, Paris

    This popular ‘Noli me tangere’ (‘Do not touch me’) composition is a rich example of Florentine Mannerism, blending religious symbolism with Bronzino’s intellectual style. It was initially commissioned for the Cavalcanti Chapel in Florence’s Santo Spirito Church.

    The moment of encounter illustrates John 20:17: after Mary Magdalene recognises the resurrected Jesus, he says to her, ‘Do not hold on to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father. Go instead to my brothers and tell them, “I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.”’

    Bronzino presents Christ as a gardener, holding a spade, an element symbolising rebirth and the beginning of a new life in Christian theology.

    In keeping with Mannerist aesthetics, Bronzino’s figures are elongated and idealised, with slightly inflated bodies and postures and finely detailed garments displaying vibrant colours—an ultramarine gown, deep red cloak, and lush green undergown—demonstrating his mastery of colour and texture. This palette and the meticulous rendering of fabric textures showcase Bronzino’s refined and controlled approach, emphasising beauty over emotional expression. The background is understated, with an angel near the empty tomb, allowing the viewer’s attention to remain focused on the central interaction between Christ and Mary of Magdalene.

    Agnolo di Cosimo, called il Bronzino( 1503-1572), Noli Me Tangere, 1561, Oil on poplar, 291 x 195 cm, The Louvre, Paris
    Agnolo di Cosimo, called il Bronzino( 1503-1572), Noli Me Tangere, 1561, Oil on poplar, 291 x 195 cm, The Louvre, Paris