Seville

While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks By Night…

The Master of the Annunciation to the Shepherds, The Annunciation to the Shepherds

In Birmingham the Christmas lights are up so, in spite of the fact that it’s only November, this post is going to have a seasonal feel. The Annunciation to the Shepherds depicts the moment the birth of Christ was announced to some very surprised shepherds. The Shepherds then rushed to Bethlehem, where they found Mary, Joseph and the Christ child lying in a manger.

Master of the Annunciation to the Shepherds, The Annunciation to the Shepherds, Birmingham Museums Trust

Master of the Annunciation to the Shepherds, The Annunciation to the Shepherds, Birmingham Museums Trust

Whilst we don’t know the name of the artist who painted The Annunciation to the Shepherds, we can connect it to group of paintings produced by the same artist who, unsurprisingly, painted the annunciation to the shepherds a lot. Painting was a very commercially-orientated practice and often, once an artist had found a successful subject, they would paint it several times over. The Annunciation to the Shepherds is one of the artist’s key works that gave him his name, along with a horizontal version of the subject in the Museo di Capodimonte, Naples.

Although his identity is unclear, The Master of the Annunciation to the Shepherds was clearly an exceptionally talented painter. We know he was living and working in Naples and was certainly influenced by the naturalistic style of the Spanish artist Giuseppe de Ribera, who had settled in Naples in 1616. The Kingdom of Naples was then part of the Spanish Empire, and was ruled by a succession of Spanish Viceroys, as such there was a strong cultural relationship between these two territories. Ribera had also lived in Rome where, like many of the artist’s in BMAG’s collection, he was inspired by the powerful realism of Caravaggio. The Master of the Annunciation to the Shepherds’ painting also reveals this Caravaggesque influence. Like Caravaggio, he is interested in the depiction of real people; the shepherds presented uncompromisingly, wearing typically rustic clothes and sleeping amongst their flock. He is similarly influenced by Caravaggio’s use of chiaroscuro (extreme contrasts of light and shade). In fact, it has even been suggested that the Master of the Annunciation to the Shepherds used charcoal dust in the flesh tones to enhance the chiaroscuro. When The Annunciation to the Shepherds first entered the BMAG collection it was thought to be an early work by the famous Spanish artist Diego Velázquez. In a rather embarrassing episode for the museum, this attribution was soon proved to be incorrect.

Giuseppe Ribera, Jacob with the Flock of Laban, National Gallery, London

Giuseppe Ribera, Jacob with the Flock of Laban, National Gallery, London

The painting has an amazing provenance and formed part of the collection of Frank Hall Standish of Duxbury (1799-1840), a gentleman who built up a considerable collection of Spanish art during his travels to that country. At his death, Standish offered his paintings to the British nation; on the condition that the baronetcy that had been in his family was revived. When this was refused, however, Standish bequeathed them instead to the King of France, Louis Philippe, ‘as a testimony of my esteem for a generous and polite nation’, in what was effectively a massive ‘up yours’ to Britain. Louis Philippe exhibited Standish’s painting in their own gallery within the Louvre. When Louis Philippe was forced to flee France after the revolution of 1848, however, he shipped the paintings back to Britain. According to reports, they were hastily transported and many were without frames and some were damaged by sea water. Yet The Annunciation to the Shepherds made it in one piece and was sold at Christie’s, London in 1853. The Annunciation to the Shepherds has had an eventful life: Naples – Seville – Chorley, Lancashire – Paris – London – before eventually making its way to Birmingham.

The Annunciation to the Shepherds is going to be in my final display. It’s such an important painting, both visually and in terms of its history, and I think more people should know about it. I have almost settled on a final hang now and am about to begin the long process of writing exhibition labels. It really feels like it’s all starting to happen now!

Baroque Babies

Bartolomé Esteban Murillo, The Vision of Saint Anthony of Padua and Spanish School, Infant Saint john the Baptist

Babies, babies, babies. Babies are everywhere in Baroque art. The Italian artist Francesco Albani (whose work is represented in the BMAG collection) was apparently so fanatical about painting cherubs and cupids that he suspended his own children (of which he had 12) from the ceiling with ropes! Even the art of Italy, however, cannot compare with the Spanish Baroque, which seems particularly baby-crazed. Whilst the BMAG collection only contains two Spanish works both are deserving of a blog post.

Bartolomé Esteban Murillo, Vision of Saint Anthony of Padua, Birmingham Museums Trust

Bartolomé Esteban Murillo, Vision of Saint Anthony of Padua, Birmingham Museums Trust

Bartolomé Esteban Murillo’s painting The Vision of Saint Anthony of Padua is one of the best works in the collection. Murillo was the leading painter in Seville at the end of the 17th Century. His painting shows Saint Anthony kneeling on the ground, receiving a vision of the Christ Child who is shown in a pose of benediction (blessing).

Although Saint Anthony died in Padua, Italy, he was actually born in Lisbon, Portugal in about 1195. He was originally an Augustinian canon but became a Franciscan friar in 1220, and in Murillo’s painting is shown wearing his Franciscan robes. He developed a gift for preaching and was given teaching posts in Italy and France. His intellect is represented by the book on the table next to him, on top of which is a lily symbolizing the Saint’s purity. Books are of particular importance to the story of Saint Anthony who, according to legend, had his prayer book was stolen. When he prayed for its return, however, the thief was moved to bring it back to the monastery. Because of this, Anthony is recognized as the patron saint of lost objects and people.

The BMAG painting shows the moment the Infant Christ appeared to him when preaching on the Incarnation (the belief that Christ became man). The two figures are shown in near-total darkness, against which the Christ Child and the front body of the Saint are illuminated, thus demonstrating the close relationship between the two figures and the Saint’s communion with Christ. Anthony enjoyed great popular devotion in 17th Century Spain, which led Murillo to paint this subject repeatedly throughout his career. Murillo is also well-known for his representation of children, and would frequently depict holy figures as infants; as seen in his The Infant Saint John with the Lamb at the National Gallery, London.

Bartolomé Esteban Murillo, Infant St. John the Baptist, National Gallery, London

Bartolomé Esteban Murillo, Infant St. John the Baptist, National Gallery, London

This brings us to our second work, a Spanish sculpture of the Infant Saint John. The sculpture dates from the late 17th or early 18th Century, and is by an unknown artist, possibly working around Seville. It is part of a tradition of Spanish polychrome (painted) sculpture that was intended to be as lifelike as possible, in order to provoke greater religious devotion. To create such realistic effects, statues were often adorned with glass eyes, wigs, and one recent example in Mexico was found to contain human teeth! [http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/blogs-news-from-elsewhere-28703877].

Spanish School, Infant Saint John the Baptist, Birmingham Museums Trust

Spanish School, Infant Saint John the Baptist, Birmingham Museums Trust

The practice of creating child versions (Niños) of holy figures became incredibly popular in Spain. The practice had first developed in Italy, where widows and nuns used these ‘holy dolls’ to fulfill their desire for motherhood and to have a closer relationship with Christ. In Spain, these sculptures were used in both convents and churches, where they would be dressed in clothing and jewellery or used in processions, depending on the time of year; which explains why the BMAG sculpture is naked.

Juan Martínez Montañés, Iglesia del Sagrario de Sevilla

Juan Martínez Montañés, Iglesia del Sagrario de Sevilla

The BMAG sculpture is derived from the work of Juan Martínez Montañés, one of the most famous spanish sculptures of the 17th Century, who created a similar sculpture of the Christ Child for the confraternity of the holy sacrament in Seville in 1606. Typically, these sculptures would be made in wood, however, their popularity outstripped their production and the BMAG sculpture is made from pewter, suggesting it was cast; a less time consuming process than wood carving.

In many parts of the world, these sculptures still form an important aspect of religious devotion. One of the most famous examples is the Infant Jesus of Prague, which allegedly holds miraculous powers, especially among expectant mothers.

Infant Jesus of Prague, Carmelite Church of Our Lady Victorious in Malá Strana, Prague

Infant Jesus of Prague, Carmelite Church of Our Lady Victorious in Malá Strana, Prague

In terms of the re-hang, the Murillo will definitely go on display with the Infant Saint John the Baptist possibly displayed nearby, providing more context for the Spanish Baroque. Let me know your thoughts, perhaps the sculpture is just too freaky! In other news, I am starting audience consultations next week, where visitors can try their hand at re-displaying the Baroque Galleries. If you’re around Birmingham, then stop by to have a go or just have a chat on:

Friday 22nd August, 2pm-4pm

Thursday 28th August, 11am-1pm

For more information: http://bmagblog.org/2014/08/13/the-curation-game/

Finally, many thanks to Marjorie Trusted at the V&A who has been a huge help in discovering more about our Infant Saint John the Baptist sculpture.