Symbolism and Iconography

If you have an interest in medieval art, and have never taken a college or university class in it, be warned. The study of medieval art is done primarily through its use of symbols. The study of symbols, their use and meaning, is generally referred to as "iconography." I've looked for on-line references to give me some guidance to medieval symbolism, but have so far had limited success. You can go to the sections on Iconography and Symbolism at the WEMSK (What Every Medievalist Should know) site (link below), but this will direct you to books (you know, those old-fashioned things with paper inside and a lot of words), not websites. Most of them are in German or French.

If you have an interest in symbolism, keep in mind that medieval people were as intelligent as we are, and they didn't waste their brains with television, computer games or the Internet, so they had LOTS of time to come up with really sophisticated symbolism. For example, a virgin martyr (a person who died defending his or more often, her, faith, and who also died a virgin. Not all virgins are martyrs, not all martyrs are virgins, and only certain people who died as both martyrs and virgins are known this way. Watch this space for more details in weeks and months to come) is identified as such by two symbols: a palm tree, and a phoenix, together. The Phoenix is associated with virginity because of its ability to reproduce without sex, and the phoenix is also born anew, as martyrs are reborn into a new life with God. The palm tree is used because the word for palm tree in Greek,
phoinikos, sounds like Phoenix.

Or the symbols for Saint Agnes, a third century virgin martyr who lived and died in Rome. Her festival is celebrated annually in Rome with 2 white lambs, who are brought to the church of Saint Agnes outside the Walls (Sant' Agnese fuori le Mura) to be blessed. The lamb, which also represents Christ as the Lamb of God, is Agnes's symbol because her name sounds like
agnus, Latin for Lamb. But wait, there's more. She is also represented by a lamb because lambs are pure, and pure in Greek is hagne. Which leads us right back to the virginity aspect.

After being blessed, these two lambs are taken to live with the papal flock outside Rome. When time comes to shear the sheep, wool from these particular lambs will be mixed in with wool from the rest. The wool is then spun and woven into Palliums. These are garments worn by archbishops as symbols of their servanthood and of their office. Pallium comes from the Latin for shoulders, and its use here refers to the way shepherds were depicted in Classical art carrying their lambs across their shoulders. So, too, the bishop, as pastor (shepherd) of his flock, will carry the faithful on his shoulders. The pallium, made of wool grown by the lambs who were blessed by Saint Agnes, will be a constant reminder of the charge given to an archbishop to tend his flock, and to be faithful to the sacrifices made by saints such as Agnes.

The pallium, a garment originally worn in Classical Rome, has passed into English usage as "pall," the cloth draped over a coffin at a funeral. We also use it to mean a heavy weight draped over something, "there was a pall of cloud over the city."

Many of the symbols used in medieval art derive from classical Greek and especially Roman art. But here again, use caution. Erwin Panofsky, the great art historian, wrote that, pretty much without exception, when a Classical motif is used in medieval art, it is never used with its Classical theme. So we will find entire scenes taken directly from Classical art, but not with the same meaning attached. Or a Classical theme will be used, with a completely different illustration.

So we will find images that had been used to depict Apollo used for Christ. And we will find Classical stories, such as Piramis and Thisbe, dressed in modern (medieval) dress and set in the same setting as the artist and his audience, not in Classical dress.

This means that we must be very careful not to assume that an image or motif that has carried over from Classical (pre-Christian) Rome into medieval art will carry the same meaning it had in Classical times. This also means that it's highly unlikely that images somehow snuck into medieval art that the artists, the church or the general culture were unaware of. In most of the great cathedrals, for example, the entire program of decoration was discussed, decided upon  and supervised very carefully by the bishop, the churchmen, the city elders, the master masons and others. In smaller artworks for private patrons, the patron often dictated not only the subject matter, but the symbolism used, and even the exact colours for specific portions. There are contracts extant that show a patron demanding that a specified amount of a specific colour of blue costing a certain amount must be used for the cloak of the Virgin. 

Each saint had his or her attribute, an item he or she always held, carried or appeared with, to identify him. Saint Peter has his keys, for example, Saint Agnes has her lamb, and so on. Each of the four Evangelists is depicted with his own symbol, ox, man, angel or eagle. Scenes, characters and stories from the Bible are used as illustration, and one scene might be paired with another scene as a way of making a cross-reference or commentary, linking the two in the mind of the viewer. The plan of the church has its own meaning: the north is the time before Christ, because it never gets light, while the altar was normally at the eastern end of the church because it directs the congregation to face toward the rising sun, the Light of God, and so on. So the north portal might have scenes from the Old Testament, while the eastern end behind the altar normally featured the largest window.

At the very least, to grasp medieval iconography, you must get hold of a Bible and a concordance. The concordance is a very detailed index of the topics and words used in the Bible. When you look at an illustration of a Biblical story in medieval art, look it up in the Concordance. Or follow the references that are often cited with a picture.  So, for example, a depiction of shepherds gazing up at angels in the night sky might be described as illustrating Luke 2: 8-14. So go to the Book of Luke and read it for yourself, so you become familiar with all the details the artist might be portraying.

A commonly used device is called "prefiguration," in which a story or motif from the Old Testament is used to represent something in the New Testament. I cover this in more detail on my
Bible Page.

To aid those who want to know more about the use of Biblical imagery in medieval art, but have limited background with the Bible, I've put together some information about the Bible in general, as well as on various translations of the Bible, both medieval and modern. You need to know which Bible medieval artists had access to, but you may also want to know which modern-language Bible you might wish to use as a personal reference if you go further into this study. I only cite English language translations. For more on the Bible, click
here.

Medieval art can provide you with many images of how the people of the time saw the world, and in some cases, what life was like. But be careful not to assume that you can interpret easily the underlying meanings of the images you see. In particular, my own pet peeves are those who presume to know what medieval artists "REALLY" meant unconsciously, before they've made even the slightest attempt to discover what the medieval artist was intentionally trying to depict.

As an example from my own experience with medieval art, in graduate school in Art History, I once wrote an essay on the Merode Altarpiece, a 15th century set of painted panels set into a framework that was designed to be opened or closed depending on the season. The panel I wrote about depicted Joseph, stepfather of Jesus, in his workshop. Around him are the tools of his carpentering trade. Behind him is an open window. On the windowsill is a mousetrap. The mousetrap was a reference to the Crucifixion, because a medieval writer once described the Crucifixion as "a mousetrap for the Devil." And keep in mind that Joseph was, presumably, dead long before the Crucifixion took place. The artist was deliberately foreshadowing the end of Jesus's life on earth in a portrayal of Joseph before Jesus's birth, thus tying the whole story together.

In the centre panel is the Annunciation, in which the Angel Gabriel tells Mary she will have a child even though she is a Virgin. Even the towel hanging on the rod at the back and the brass kettle over the fire had meaning for the medieval viewer, but they require translation for the modern, less sophisticated mind. And the entire scene is set in the time and dress of 15th century Flanders, not because the artist was too ignorant to know that first century Judea didn't look like that, but as a deliberate choice. Possibly, this was designed to show the viewer that this is a timeless story, just as relevant to them in the 14th century as it was in Biblical times, and therefore not to be disregarded as passe. But certainly, this was done consciously, in a way that is lost on us, who see the "modern" depiction itself as archaic.

I can't seem to get rid of this extra space here, so keep scrolling to get to the main links.

To see a pretty decent image of the Merode Altarpiece, click
here.



Back to Olwen's Home Page
Back to Medieval Art
Olwen's Medieval History Page
Olwen's Pottery Page
What Every Medievalist Should Know
The following books are the sources for specific facts cited:

Margaret Visser,
The Geometry of Love: Space, Time, Mystery and Meaning in an Ordinary Church for the symbolism of St. Agnes and virgin martyrs.

Erwin Panofsky,
Meaning in the Visual Arts

Lisa Jardine,
Worldly Goods: A New History of the Renaissance for the information on artists' contracts.

I cannot cite any specific source regarding the Merode Altarpiece, because I wrote that essay 20 years ago. If I can dig it up, I'll put the sources here.
Bible Information for non-Bible Types
Hosted by www.Geocities.ws

1