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For queries about offprints, copyright and republication of your article, please contact the publisher via peeters@peeters-leuven.be VAN EYCK STUDIES Papers Presented at the Eighteenth Symposium for the Study of Underdrawing and Technology in Painting, Brussels, 19-21 September 2012 Edited by Christina Currie, Bart Fransen, Valentine henderiks, Cyriel Stroo, Dominique Vanwijnsberghe PEETErS PArIS – lEUVEN – BrISTol, CT 2017 Contents Editors’ Preface IX Notes to the Reader XI Abbreviations XIII PART I. THE GHENT ALTARPIECE 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 The Ghent Altarpiece Revisited: 2012-2017 Anne van grevenstein-Kruse and hélène Dubois 3 Gems in the Water of Paradise. The Iconography and Reception of Heavenly Stones in the Ghent Altarpiece marjolijn Bol 35 The Adoration of the Lamb. Philip the Good and Van Eyck’s Just Judges luc Dequeker 51 ‘Revenons à notre Mouton’. Paul Coremans, Erwin Panofsky, Martin Davies and the Mystic Lamb hélène Dubois, Jana Sanyova and Dominique Vanwijnsberghe 67 Results of Three Campaigns of Dendrochronological Analysis on the Ghent Altarpiece (1986-2013) Pascale Fraiture 77 Research into the Structural Condition and Insights as to the Original Appearance of the Panels and Frames of the Ghent Altarpiece Aline genbrugge and Jessica roeders 97 Small Hairs. Meaning and Material of a Multiple Detail in the Ghent Altarpiece’s Adam and Eve Panels Ann-Sophie lehmann 107 Le rôle du dessin sous-jacent et de l’ébauche préparatoire au lavis dans la genèse des peintures de l’Agneau Mystique Catheline Périer-D’Ieteren 121 Art and Compensation. Joos Vijd and the Programme of the Ghent Altarpiece Bernhard ridderbos 137 John the Baptist and the Book of Isaiah in the Ghent Altarpiece Patricia Stirnemann, Claudine A. Chavannes-mazel and henry Dwarswaard 145 11 12 La présentation de l’Agneau Mystique dans la chapelle Vijd. Le rapprochement progressif de deux retables hélène Verougstraete 157 The Frames by Schinkel for the Wings of the Ghent Altarpiece and the Copies in Berlin Bettina von roenne 179 PART II. STUDIES IN VAN EYCK PAINTINGS 13 14 15 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 Van Eyck’s Technique and Materials: Historical Perspectives and Contemporary Context marika Spring and rachel morrison 195 Revelations Regarding the Crucifixion and Last Judgment by Jan van Eyck and Workshop maryan w. Ainsworth 221 Remarks on Character and Functions in Jan van Eyck’s Underdrawing of Portraits: the Case of Margaret van Eyck Part 1 rachel Billinge 233 Jan van Eyck’s Underdrawing of Portraits Part 2 Till-holger Borchert 241 The Speed of Illusion lorne Campbell 257 Les autoportraits présumés de Jan Van Eyck et la date approximative de sa naissance Pierre Colman 263 Pigments, Media and Varnish Layers on the Portrait of Margaret van Eyck Jill Dunkerton, rachel morrison and Ashok roy 271 New Findings on the Painting Medium of the Washington Annunciation melanie gifford, John K. Delaney, Suzanne Quillen lomax, rachel morrison and marika Spring 281 Jan van Eyck’s Greek, Hebrew and Trilingual Inscriptions Susan Frances Jones 291 Early Texts on Some Portraits by Jan van Eyck Stephan Kemperdick 311 Jan van Eyck and his ‘Stereoscopic’ Approach to Painting renzo leonardi 327 The Development Process of the Dresden Triptych. News and Questions Uta Neidhardt 351 Voyager dans les tableaux de Van Eyck Jacques Paviot 367 25 26 27 28 Replications of Exemplary Form. New Evidence on Jan van Eyck’s St Francis Receiving the Stigmata Jamie l. Smith 375 Questioning the Technical Paradigm of the Ghent Altarpiece Noëlle l.w. Streeton 389 Gold-brocaded Velvets in Paintings by Jan van Eyck. Observations on Painting Technique Esther E. van Duijn 403 Surface Effects in Paintings by Jan van Eyck Abbie Vandivere 417 PART III. VAN EYCK IN CONTEXT: OTHER MEDIA, RECEPTION AND LEGACY 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 Mural Paintings before Jan van Eyck. A Remarkable Discovery from around 1400 in St John’s Church in Mechelen marjan Buyle and Anna Bergmans 437 The Fishing Party by Jan van Eyck (?). A Technical Analysis Claudine A. Chavannes-mazel, with matthias Alfeld, Koen Janssens, geert Van der Snickt, Peter Klein, micha leeflang, margreet wolters, Carel Van Tuyll van Serooskerken and André le Prat 455 Van Eyck in Valencia Bart Fransen 469 Jan van Eyck’s Genoese Commissions. The Lost Triptych of Battista Lomellini maria Clelia galassi 481 Jan van Eyck, Polychromer (and Designer?) of Statues Ingrid geelen 495 Les copies de la Vierge à l’Enfant dans une église de Jan van Eyck et le rôle de la version dessinée du Grand Curtius Valentine henderiks 509 Jan Van Eyck as Illuminator? Hand G of the Turin-Milan Hours Catherine reynolds 519 The Tomb-Slab of Hubert Van Eyck and Gerard Horenbout. A Tribute to the Great Ghent Master ronald Van Belle 535 A Note on Gold and Silver in a Metalpoint Drawing by Jan van Eyck Arie wallert 547 Bibliography Illustration Credits 557 597 Fig. 20.1 Jan van Eyck, Portrait of a Man (Self Portrait?), 1433, oil on oak panel, 33.1 x 25.9 cm (with frame), detail of the frame, London, National Gallery (NG 222) 20 Jan van Eyck’s Greek, Hebrew and Trilingual Inscriptions Susan Frances Jones ABSTRACT: Van Eyck probably learnt Greek transliteration not from scribal colophons, as has been supposed, but from his training as a painter. He did not copy existing systems, however, but developed his own practice – and he may have drawn on more than one source. His transposition of Greek letters from sacred names within the pictorial field to his personal motto on the frame confirms his intellectuality as a painter. He must have used Greek letters partly for their intellectual and social value. That the motto also had a religious dimension is highly probable; arguably, it was deliberately multilayered and complex. This made it apt for small-scale paintings intended to be viewed in private settings by privileged viewers who were highly alert to visual codes and signs. Along with Van Eyck’s signature, the motto was also part of Van Eyck’s broader revival of the ‘Romanesque’, which placed him within a regional history of image-making. —o— Van Eyck’s use of Greek has seemed wholly exceptional for a painter: no other painter in the Burgundian Netherlands of his day exploited Greek letters in such complex ways. Greek was a language of learning but in the West, in the Middle Ages, grammatical knowledge of the language was rare, even among scholars. The imperative to learn Latin pushed Greek into second place: in the words of Walter Berschin, Greek was ‘more honoured than studied’.1 This was because, along with Hebrew and Latin, it was one of the original languages of Scripture. The combination of these three ‘sacred languages’ (as they were termed by Isidore of Seville) had an antecedent in Christ’s lifetime, moreover, since according to the Gospel of John the tituli affixed to the Cross, mockingly identifying Christ as ‘Jesus of Nazareth King of the Jews’, were written in Hebrew, in Greek and in Latin. This article aims to shed light on how and why Van Eyck used Greek, Hebrew and trilingual inscriptions in his works and on the sources of his knowledge. The most enigmatic Greek letters in Van Eyck’s oeuvre are those in his personal motto, aΛ𐅝 ixh xan (als ich can), depicted most prominently on the upper frame of the Portrait of a Man (Self-Portrait?) (fig. 20.1): there, the Greek letter lambda (Λ) is a substitute for the Roman letter L, the square sigma (𐅝) for S and chi (X) for C. When Van Eyck adopted the motto is unknown. The earliest surviving example is on the upper frame of the Portrait of a Man (Self-Portrait?), dated 21 October 1433 (London, National Gallery), by which time he was already established at the Burgundian court (from May 1425) and indeed in Bruges (where he settled probably after his return from Portugal in January 1430). It appears on the frames of three other surviving paintings: the Virgin and Child with Saints Catherine and Michael and a Donor (1437, Dresden); the Portrait of Margaret van Eyck (1439) and the Virgin by a Fountain (1439), and probably also on the frame of a lost Holy Face (figs 20.2a-e).2 292 susan frances jones into rex regu[m] while delta, chi and lunate sigma appear in the words dominus dominancium. On the Deity’s stole, in addition, an uncial omega is substituted for the letter O in the Hebrew name Sabaoth, which refers to the Deity as the Lord of Hosts. From these and other examples in his signed and accepted painting we can determine that Van Eyck employed a system of Greek transliteration, using the following equivalents: a Lambda (Λ) – L Chi (Χ) – C Square sigma (𐅝) or lunate sigma (C) – S Rho (Ρ) – R Gamma (Γ) – G Delta (Δ) – D Upsilon (Υ) – U Omega (󰰴) – O3 b c d e Figs 20.2a-e Jan van Eyck’s motto as it appears on: (a) the Dresden Triptych (1437; Dresden Gemäldegalerie Alte Meister, inv. no. 799); (b) the Portrait of Margaret van Eyck (1439; Bruges, Groeningemuseum, inv. no. 0000.GRO0162.I); (c) the Virgin by a Fountain (1439; Antwerp, KMSKA, inv. no. 411), (d) copy of a lost Holy Face (Bruges, Groeningemuseum, inv. no. 0000.GRO0206.1), (e) copy of a lost Holy Face (Berlin, Staatliche Museen zu Berlin, Gemäldegalerie, inv. no. 528). Van Eyck also deployed Greek letters in the inscription along the edge of the mantle of the Deity Enthroned in the Ghent Altarpiece, which reads rex regum et dominus dominancium (King of Kings and Lord of Lords). There, the Latin words are partly transliterated into Greek: the letters rho, gamma and upsilon are incorporated What theories have been put forward to explain such knowledge? In an influential article of 1968, Robert Scheller argued that Van Eyck derived his personal motto from scribal colophons. Scheller suggested that his source was a long-standing modesty formula that originated in the rhetoric of classical antiquity and was taken up by medieval copyists and emendators: ut potui (non sicut volui); in Dutch, Zoals ich kan (niet zoals ik zou willen); in English, ‘As I can (not as I would)’.4 The sentiment appears to be that he has made the painting ‘As best as I can’ or ‘As well as I can’. In addition, Scheller contended that the Greek letters in the motto also came from scribal colophons, in which a scribe might use Greek letters to conceal his name, making himself appear at once learned and modest.5 In support of this, he referred the reader to an article by Bernhard Bischoff, published in 1951, which addressed colophons by scribes connected to the Carolingian and Ottonian courts, written between the ninth century and the eleventh or twelfth centuries.6 An example is that written by the scribe Adalbald, working at Tours in the ninth century:7 jan van eyck’s greek, hebrew and trilingual inscriptions ΔC ΑΔΗCΘ󰰴 CΚΡΙΒΗΝΘΗ ΑΔΑΛΒΑΛΔ󰰴 D[EU]S ADESTO SCRIBENTI ADALBALDO GOD BE PRESENT TO THE SCRIBE ADALBALD To pursue this enquiry we can reproduce here another inscription, which appears in the dedication miniature of the Gospel Book of Abbess Svanhild of Essen, of the eleventh century: 8 CXΑ MΑΡΥΑ ΑΔ ΠR󰰴ΠΡΥΜ ΝΑΤU ΦΕΡ NPM VΥΡΓ󰰴 ΠΡEΧΑΤ S[AN]C[T]A MARIA, AD PROPRIUM NATU[M], FER N[OST]R[U]M, VIRGO, PRECAT[UM] HOLY MARY, TO THINE OWN SON, BRING, O VIRGIN, OUR PRAYER These inscriptions use mostly the same substitutions as Van Eyck, and they have the same perceived inaccuracies. In each case, the underlying text is in Latin but the individual characters have been transliterated into Greek, letter by letter. The choice of Greek letters was guided by their phonetic similarity to the Roman letters (rather than, say, their visual likeness); however, there was also a desire to choose Greek letters that were as little like Roman letters as possible: upsilon (Υ) over iota (I), theta (Θ) over tau (T) and chi (X) over kappa (K). To describe this phenomenon, Berschin used the term ‘hyper-Greek’.9 In his motto, Van Eyck appears to have used the Greek letter chi (X) to represent the Roman letter C, although the letter kappa (K) would be a more accurate phonetic choice. His use of chi (X) there has been regarded as a mistake.10 Nonetheless, chi (X) is used to represent C in the second inscription shown above: it appears in the first word s[an] c[t]a and in the final word precatu[m]. As Scheller has already observed, Van Eyck’s choice of chi (X) to represent C was in keeping with long-established tradition and is correct in its own terms.11 The Greek letters in Van Eyck’s motto are no more than a straight- 293 forward transliteration of selected letters from a Middle Dutch text that reads als ich can. That the central word is ich makes it likely that the motto represents Van Eyck’s individual dialect and way of speaking.12 Scheller’s interpretation of the motto and related inscriptions has various implications. It suggests that among fifteenth-century painters only Jan van Eyck had such knowledge and that he obtained it directly from the world of scribes. Indeed, Scheller went on to suggest that Van Eyck’s mode of signing and dating, including particular verb forms, various scripts and unusual terms such as actum, were derived from scribal and notarial practice. Maurits Smeyers agreed that Van Eyck’s manner of signing and dating was in a sense related to the practice of scribes, and that the motto was borrowed specifically from scribal colophons.13 By these means, according to those scholars, Van Eyck presented himself to the ‘reader’ of his works as a learned painter. For Scheller, it was the perception of a rigour derived from learning and even from legal knowledge that led Bartolomeo Fazio, writing in 1456, to say of Van Eyck litterarum nonnihil doctus – ‘he was not unlettered’.14 Where did Van Eyck employ Greek? In every instance aside from his motto, it is used for the nomina sacra – the sacred names of God: xP̅ c; agla; yecyc; sabaot[h]; eloy; rex regum et dominus dominancium; iesus nazarenus rex iudaeorum. The Greek inscription in the Portrait of a Man (‘Léal Souvenir’) is admittedly a complex case, but, as Lorne Campbell has noted, the inscription tΥm. 󰰴ΘΕΟc contains the name of God 󰰴ΘΕΟc (in Latin, otheos), deliberately separated from the first three letters by a point on the baseline (fig. 20.3).15 The idea that the inscription in the portrait was an attempt at writing Τιμόθεος (Timothy) gave rise to the idea that the sitter wanted to compare himself to the ancient Greek lyre-player and musical innovator, Timotheos of Miletus (d. 360 bce).16 But the interpretation of the inscription remains open to question. If we apply Van Eyck’s system as 294 susan frances jones Fig. 20.3 Jan van Eyck, Portrait of a Man (‘Leal Souvenir’), 1432, oil on oak panel, 33.3 x 18.9 cm, London, National Gallery (inv. no. NG 290), detail explicated above, in which Greek upsilon (Υ) is a substitute for Roman U, and take account of the fact that there is a point in the inscription and a large space after the first three letters (tΥm.), then the text can be reconstructed in Latin as a twoword inscription tum. otheos (‘Then God’).17 There is precedent in medieval systems of transliteration, however, for the Greek letter upsilon (Υ) to represent the Roman letter I, as seen in the eleventh-century inscription above, in which maΡΥΑ is used for maria, among other instances. This makes it possible that Van Eyck decided to use upsilon (Υ) here, against his usual custom, because it seemed preferable to Greek iota (I), which would have been indistinguishable from the Roman letter I. Like the scribes discussed above, he could have chosen upsilon for its obvious ‘Greekness’.18 In that case, Van Eyck may well have been thinking of the name Τιμόθεος. Although the name was not current in the Burgundian Netherlands in Van Eyck’s time, as Erwin Panofsky observed, this does not exclude a sitter from outside the Netherlands. We find the name Timoteo in Italy and the name Tymotheus in Germany.19 Two copies of the painting have Italian provenances, raising the possibility that the original was at one time in Italy, perhaps in the seventeenth century.20 With respect to the painting’s meaning and purpose, it is clearly important that Van Eyck used punctuation and spacing to draw attention to the sacred name 󰰴ΘΕΟc. The Greek letters here are probably best studied in the context of Christianity rather than pagan antiquity. Such sacred names were believed to be powerful. There was some debate as to whether their power was intrinsic to the word or was derived from God through the word; but divine aid was sought for a wide variety of practices that we might call magic. Names of God were used in curing and healing (they might be read out over curative herbs, for example), to help in pregnancy and childbirth, to secure divine protection and assistance against enemies and, in exorcisms, to drive out demons. In the eyes of those who saw, read or uttered the names, and used them in everyday life, these various activities were not divisible into distinct categories of magic, religion and medicine, as they would be now.21 Van Eyck depicted such inscriptions on armour, weapons and floor tiles, which suggests that they were inscribed on such objects in actuality. In the Ghent Altarpiece, one of the Knights of Christ carries a shield in which divine names are formed into a cross: at its centre is a Greek tau. This accords jan van eyck’s greek, hebrew and trilingual inscriptions 295 Figs 20.4a-b Ghent Altarpiece, Musician Angels, details of the tiled floor with the belief that sacred names and letters would increase the power of objects that could mean the difference between life and death. In the Ghent Altarpiece, the tiled floors in the panels of the Musician and Singing Angels display various names and monograms of God, some of which incorporate Greek letters. The three final letters of the so-called yesus tile are lunate sigma (C), upsilon (Υ) and lunate sigma (C), which must represent Latin sus; the initial letter is perhaps meant to be a Latin Y; it does not seem to be a Latin I (fig. 20.4a). Importantly, the name is inscribed as if on a piece of paper or parchment that is curled up at the edges on both sides: this is not just a word on a tile but a representation of a textual amulet, which might be used for prayer, protection or healing. Another of the repeats in these floors (which appears on only two tiles) is the name agla: in one of the tiles it contains a Greek gamma (Γ) for the letter G (fig. 20.4b). As is well known, this name is said to derive from words of Hebrew origin meaning ‘Thou art mighty for ever, Lord’ (ate gebir leilam adonai). These words have been made into an acrostic written in Roman characters, allowing them to be grasped, read and spoken without difficulty. This sort of adaptation was important because although Hebrew was the least comprehensible of the three sacred languages, at least to Van Eyck’s viewers, it was also the highest and most holy. Sacred names and titles in general might be transliterated from the original language, but they were not translated, as it was believed that this would diminish their power.22 agla was 296 susan frances jones especially popular on jewellery, suggesting that always keeping it on the person was seen as important. 23 It was precisely in Van Eyck’s day that the production of textual amulets, written on paper or parchment, reached a peak. These texts did not need to be read in order to be effective, although this was increasingly possible for courtly, noble and indeed middle-class users of the late medieval period. Such amulets had complex, multiple functions: they might be read, contemplated, worn for protection or applied directly to a wound or afflicted area in an attempt to heal or to cure.24 Among the sacred names in such amulets we sometimes find that a Greek letter has been substituted for a Roman one: in one example, in the name Adonai, an uncial omega appears in place of the Roman letter o (ad󰰴nai), the same substitution that was made by Van Eyck in the name Sabaoth (saba󰰴th) in the Ghent Altarpiece. Evidently, these textual materials provide parallels for Van Eyck’s practice. In all these examples, the Greek letters in the sacred names served to increase their existing power, as did the laying out of names in a symbolic shape such as a cross or a circle. The inscriptions made it possible for the viewer to harness the power of God by seeing and remembering the sacred names and taking them away on the lips or in the heart; but, apt for the medium of panel painting, they also simply showed that power. Indeed, the densest concentration of Greek in Van Eyck’s oeuvre is in the upper register of the Ghent Altarpiece where it is an essential component of the revelation of the divine. In the titles rex regum et dominus dominancium on the mantle of the Deity, Van Eyck employed not only Greek letters but some long-obsolete Western letters: the freely drawn X with tightly-curled tips (at the end of the word rex) and the letter A with a fully-rounded bow (in the word dominancium) are uncials, letters that were used for display script in the Caroline system of scripts and in proto-Gothic manuscripts from the ninth to the twelfth century. For contemporary viewers, these archaic Western letters must have seemed as ancient, strange and distant as Greek. Van Eyck thus created a sequence of letters that was perfectly calibrated to suggest mystery and incomprehensibility, and, by mingling east and west, the cosmic, boundless nature of God. Greek also appeared in trilingual inscriptions on the Cross: according to the Gospel of John, ‘Jesus of Nazareth King of the Jews’ was written in Hebrew, Greek and Latin. In several images of the Crucifixion by Eyckian painters the titles are depicted in all three languages, suggesting a consistent practice originating with Hubert and Jan van Eyck. On the titulus of the cross held by one of the angels around the altar in the Ghent Altarpiece not only the Greek line but the Hebrew line, which is not very legible at the end, has been transliterated from the Latin (fig. 20.5). The Hebrew letters, in Ashkenazi script, read, from right to left: yod (‫)י‬- a’yin (‫)ע‬- shin (‫ )ש‬/ gimel (‫ –)?( )ג‬aleph (‫)א‬/ yod (‫ )י‬and a final, unidentified letter.25 Although the letters are difficult to make out, the text is clearly meant to read, in Latin: Ies na i [?].26 The choice of gimel was most likely erroneous: it is similar in form to nun (‫)נ‬, which would be suitable to represent N, as it does in other Eyckian paintings.27 It is the consistent use of Hebrew letters that are clearly meant to represent vowels which reveals that this is a system of transliteration and not an attempt to write the language itself. The system is as follows: yod (‫ – )י‬I a’yin (‫ – )ע‬E shin (‫ – )ש‬S nun (‫ – )נ‬N aleph (‫ – )א‬A As with the Greek letters, the Hebrew letters were chosen for their broad phonetic similarity to the Latin equivalents, and the substitutions are not strictly ‘correct’ (although it has a sh-sound, the painter uses shin for a single S, for example). With respect to the origin of this system of Hebrew transliteration, the letter a’yin (‫ )ע‬is not used to represent the vowel jan van eyck’s greek, hebrew and trilingual inscriptions 297 Fig. 20.5 Ghent Altarpiece, The Adoration of the Lamb, detail of the titles of the cross E in Hebrew but it is in Yiddish, which suggests that the system follows Yiddish orthography.28 In the Ghent Altarpiece, the titles of the Cross are displayed on the cross held by an angel as one of the arma Christi or Instruments of the Passion. They are presented as the foremost signs of Christ’s victory and were believed to have extraordinary powers of protection. This is how they were understood by Ludolph of Saxony, who, in his Vita Christi, provided a prayer to the titulus crucis which asked for the strength to fight valiantly under the standard of the Lord to combat attacks by the devil.29 Ludolph asserted that every Christian ought to carry the titles of the Cross in his heart, on his lips and even in writing – and indeed, they were a common choice for textual amulets, finger rings and brooches.30 In Eyckian painting, Greek letters not only indicated the presence and power of God but extended to the archangels and warrior saints who acted and fought in his name. They showed the power of the saints and their efficacy as intercessors, encouraging veneration and prayer in the beholder. Thus they appear on the shield of the one of the Knights of Christ in the Ghent Altarpiece (as noted above) and – though only at the underdrawing stage – in the costume of the Archangel Gabriel in the Washington Annunciation (fig. 20.6). In that picture, the inscription on the edge of the angel’s dalmatic reads agla + elo[y?]: in the name agla, gamma (Γ) and lambda (Λ) are used for Roman G and L and in the name elo[y?], lambda (Λ) and uncial omega (󰰴) for L and O. The omission of these words at the painting stage brings an improvement in visual clarity, suggesting that the decision was made by Van Eyck himself. What was the source for Van Eyck’s knowledge? Greek transliteration appears to have come down to late-medieval Europe along different pathways, partly from the monasteries of early-medieval Europe but also, beginning in the twelfth century, from the universities. At least by the late fourteenth century, however, this kind of knowledge did not depend on a university education, as demonstrated by the English master surgeon John Arderne (1307/8-1377), who operated at the intersection of magic, religion and medicine. Arderne would not have gone to university but he was a learned man with sufficient Latin to write several medical treatises in that language. He had in his 298 susan frances jones Fig. 20.6 Jan van Eyck, The Annunciation, c.1434-1436, canvas transferred from wood, 92.7 x 36.7 cm, Washington, National Gallery of Art, Andrew W. Mellon Collection (inv. no. 1937.1.39), IRR assembly, detail of the Angel Annunciate’s dalmatic possession a charm against spasm and cramp, which appears in some copies of his Treatise of Fistula in Ano, Haemorrhoids and Clysters (issued in 1376) and which he ‘used to write in Greek letters that it might not be understanded of the people’ (in the original text, written in Latin, ... scribere istud literas grecis, ne a laicis perspicietur).31 This is the charm: In nomine patris + et filii + et Spiritus sancti + Amen + Thebal + Enthe + Enthanay + In nomine Patris + et Filii + et Spiritus Sancti + Amen + Ihesu Nazarenus + Maria + Iohannes + Michael + Gabriel + Raphael + Verbum caro factum est + Arderne had acquired it from a certain knight, the son of Lord Reginald de Grey de Schirlond near Chesterfield, who was in Milan in 1368 for the wedding of Lionel of Antwerp, Duke of Clarence, son of Edward III. On that occasion the knight had successfully used the charm on a gentleman who was so afflicted by spasm that he was ‘almost dead from the pain and starvation’. The charm, written on parchment and put in a purse, was placed upon the man’s neck, while bystanders said ‘the Lord’s Prayer and one to Our Lady’. Arderne’s explanation for writing down the charm in Greek letters was to prevent it becoming widely known and used, which he believed would reduce its power (‘lest perchance it should lose the virtues given by God’).32 From the twelfth century, this was a common belief and literary theme among Western authors of works on astrology, alchemy and other occult sciences, which were based primarily on imported Arabic texts.33 Such was the perceived jan van eyck’s greek, hebrew and trilingual inscriptions value of this new knowledge that it brought in its wake an insistence on secrecy, and thus on practices such as cryptography.34 According to Richard Kieckhefer, the two main groups involved in the new learning were clerics and physicians.35 This provides a context for a passage by the Franciscan theologian and philosopher Roger Bacon (c.12141294), which speaks of wise men obscuring their thoughts by mixing letters from different alphabets, Hebrew, Greek and Latin, so that they could be understood only by the most ‘diligent and learned’.36 In this practice, various kinds of cryptographic systems occur, using Latin, Greek, Hebrew and even runes.37 In the thirteenth century, a set of recipes inscribed by a student physician on a medical manuscript, including one for the widely-feared incendiary weapon known as ‘Greek fire’, were encoded in Greek and pseudo-Greek characters.38 In the late fourteenth century Greek transliteration was in use at the court of Charles V of France (1338-1380). Between around 1370 and around 1378, as an aid to his personal devotions, the king inserted a series of folios in a book of hours that he had inherited, known as the Savoy Hours. The book’s provenance was both royal and saintly, having been made for Blanche of Burgundy (d. 1348), Countess of Savoy and granddaughter of St Louis of France. The additions included two pseudo-Greek texts, one a prayer, the underlying text of which was French, and the other a series of precepts of good kingship, the underlying text of which was Latin (both are now lost). This is the prayer, as transcribed and translated by Paul Durrieu:39 󰰴 BIEPE MEPE TV MIΛITE BEP’ ΔIEV ΛE ΠEPE A VNITE XAPAEITE KA MIΛITE ΠAP MOP AME’ ΛENΦEP Ȣ EPE ΛVMANITE O Vier[g]e Mère Tu milite(s) Vers Dieu le Père A Unité, Charité, Qu’a milité Par mor[t] [des] âmes L’enfer, où er[r]e L’humanité 299 The text was produced by the following system: Omega (󰰴) – O Beta (B) – V Rho (Ρ) – R Lambda (Λ) – L Delta (Δ) – D Pi (Π) – P Kappa ( K) – QU Chi (X) – C Phi (Φ) – F Ou ligature (Ȣ) – OU Although the texts are different in kind, their meaning in each case was highly personal: the king’s own vernacular is used for the prayer to the Virgin, and the precepts apply only to him. The texts evoke the two main connotations of Greek – religious piety and ancient wisdom – bringing them together in a single, very exclusive book. The presence of the precepts is in keeping with the belief at the Valois courts that ancient histories could provide exemplars of good government.40 But in the prayer, for the first time in our discussion, we find the combination of Greek letters with a vernacular language, exemplifying the spread of learning outside the universities to a broader public, a process that became increasingly significant in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. The Savoy Hours was also historically an extensively personalised book, containing twenty-five pictures of Blanche in prayer, and a ‘Prayer for Myself’ – and this usage was continued by Charles, who added numerous pictures of himself in prayer. The addition of the ‘Greek’ inscriptions to the book shows Charles promoting the image of the wise and pious ruler.41 A pseudo-Greek text, this time in minuscule script, can be found in another (currently untraced) book of hours: one made for a craftsman, the French sculptor Michel Colombe (c.1430, Bourges – Tours, c.1513).42 The colophon, composed by one Petrus Fabri, commemorates the making of the book in 1487 with both a Latin text and a pseudoGreek text transliterated from French – the user’s 300 susan frances jones native tongue. In addition, the Latin text is signed with his initials (P. F.) transliterated into Greek (Π. Φ.). It is plausible that the scribe Petrus Fabri, who calls himself (in the pseudo-Greek text) pour le temps resident a Bourges, can be identified with the poet and rhetorician Pierre le Fèvre, called Fabri (c.1450-c.1535), who was a native of Rouen. Fabri’s knowledge of Latin is clear from the fact that the chapter on letter-writing in his Le Grant et Vray Art de pleine Rhétorique, published at Rouen in 1521, is a literal translation from Latin sources.43 Fabri was a leading member of Rouen’s Confraternity of the Immaculate Conception, which was famed, among other things, for its annual puy or poetry competition. In 1487, the year that this colophon was written, Fabri was the head of the confraternity and sponsor or ‘prince’ of the puy.44 The book thus represents an interaction – or a social relationship – between a manual craftsman and a man of letters. Colombe clearly regarded it as a sign of his success, since he is celebrated in the Latin text as regni Francie supremi sculptoris. That Greek cryptography is found in panel painting by the early fifteenth century has been overlooked hitherto. In the so-called Norfolk Triptych, now in the Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen in Rotterdam, dateable to sometime within or around the years 1410 to 1420, the tituli, provided in all three sacred languages, deploy both Greek and Hebrew transliteration (fig. 20.7). Working on a minute scale, the painter has depicted one word on each line: Ihesus in Hebrew, Nazarenus in Greek and Iudeorum in Latin. From right to left the Hebrew line reads yod (‫)י‬, he (‫)ה‬, a’yin (‫)ע‬, shin (‫)ש‬, waw (‫)ו‬, shin (‫)ש‬, clearly meant for ihesus. Unlike Van Eyck, the painter has spelled the word ihesus with an H, but otherwise this system uses the same Hebrew equivalents. In the text of the Greek line, reading [n]asarenus, the painter adopted a similar but not identical system to that Van Eyck would use, substituting lunate sigma (C) for S; rho (Ρ) for R and an unusual sign for the Latin letter N, to which we will return shortly. a b Figs 20.7a-b Southern Netherlands, Maastricht or Liège?, (a) Norfolk Triptych, centre panel, Christ as the Man of Sorrows, Christ and the Virgin, and Saints, c.1410-20, oil on oak panel, 33.1 x 16.35 cm, (b) detail, the titles of the cross Rotterdam, Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen (inv. no. 2466) jan van eyck’s greek, hebrew and trilingual inscriptions An image of the Last Judgement formerly in Diest (Brabant), also displays a system of Greek transliteration but since it can only be dated broadly, perhaps around 1425-1435, it is not clear whether the system, or the idea, was derived from the Ghent Altarpiece, which bears the date 6 May 1432 (fig. 20.8).45 The painter used Greek letters in the titles rex regum et dominus dominancium on the hem of Christ’s mantle – the same titles that appear, also in Greek, on the mantle of the Deity Enthroned in the Ghent Altarpiece. An inspection of the Greek and Hebrew letters in the Last Judgement, however, shows that for the Greek letters the painter used both different forms and a different range of forms from Van Eyck; and, furthermore, that he knew a system of Hebrew transliteration which he is unlikely to have worked out on the basis of the few Hebrew letters in the Ghent Altarpiece. 301 The word on the robe of John the Evangelist, in red at the centre of the picture, reads, from right to left: ihesus (yod (‫)י‬, he (‫)ה‬, a’yin (‫)ע‬, shin (‫)ש‬, waw (‫)ו‬, shin (‫ – ))ש‬the same formula that was used in the Rotterdam picture. Moreover, the letters running vertically down the edge of the mantle of one of the other Apostles, probably Peter, spell out the names ihesus and maria alternately (see fig. 20.8). ihesus is once more spelled as above (compare fig. 20.7), and maria is also written in Hebrew characters. We can plausibly interpret the four final letters as alef (‫)א‬, resh (‫)ר‬, yod (‫ )י‬and alef (‫)א‬, standing for the Latin A R I A; in that case, the first letter should be a mem (‫)מ‬, standing for Latin M, but clearly it is not. While the inscriptions undoubtedly follow a system, then, it is probable that the painter copied the letters, which are very badly drawn, from a model of some kind, and that he did so without any real understanding. Right to left: yod, he, a’yin, shin, waw, shin, or IHESUS Right to left: mem(?), alef, resh, yod, alef, or MARIA Fig. 20.8 Southern Netherlands, Last Judgement, 1425-1435, oil on panel, 231.5 x 186.5 cm, Brussels KMSKB-MRBAB, (inv. no. 4658), The system of Hebrew transliteration used for the sacred names on the mantle of St Peter (?) is shown to the right 302 susan frances jones From these examples we can infer that other artists from this period, whether before or after Van Eyck, had independent knowledge of systems of transliteration. Intriguingly, there is evidence that one of the two paintings, the Norfolk triptych, was made in the Mosan region from which the Van Eyck family originated, suggesting that Greek and Hebrew transliteration may have been part of a regional tradition that was available to Van Eyck as part of his workshop training. The question of how Netherlandish painters obtained knowledge of Greek and Hebrew letters is thus pushed further back in time, to the generation before Van Eyck. The introduction of Greek transliteration to panel painting was not the work of a single, exceptionally learned painter (i.e. Jan van Eyck) but reflected the interests of members of the patron class. The use of transliteration systems to depict the titles of the Cross by 1410 or 1420 presumably responded to a desire for authenticity in the representation of the titulus, which was one of the most holy relics of Christianity and one that, in the early fifteenth century, was lost to view (it would not be rediscovered until 1492). To show the trilingual titles in full became characteristic of Eyckian painting. Indeed, a model for the titulus in which the Hebrew and Greek lines were transliterated was arguably available in Van Eyck’s workshop.46 Examination of these earlier systems of transliteration indicates that Van Eyck’s excluded certain medieval Greek forms that were standard in the West: in an illustration of the five letters domin from the beginning of the word dominus, inscribed on the edge of Christ’s mantle in the Diest Last Judgement (fig. 20.9), the last three signs are the so-called M-siglum, sometimes called ‘western M’ , which looks like two letter Cs positioned back-toback, and joined with a crossbar; a curved-Y form representing Latin I, and finally a sign representing N.47 The painter of the Norfolk Triptych used the last sign to represent the Roman letter N in the word [n]azarenus (compare figs 20.9 and 20.10a). Earlier texts and images indicate that these equivalents were of very long-standing: the medical cryptogram of the thirteenth century, mentioned above, employs both the M-siglum for M and the sign -( for N. These forms were in use in Van Eyck’s day: his contemporary, Rogier van der Weyden, deployed the same curved-Y form to represent I in the title inri in his Descent from the Cross (compare figs 20.9 and 20.10b). They do not, however, feature in the sacred names and titles that Van Eyck partly transliterated into Greek, in which the letters have phonetic value. The only example of M-siglum in Eyckian painting (known to this writer) occurs in the Ghent Altarpiece, where it is shown on a very small scale in the decoration of the red hat worn by one of the characters in the group of Old Testament prophets in the Adoration of the Lamb panel (fig. 20.11). Fig. 20.9 Detail of Fig. 20.8 showing the first five letters of the word DOMINUS on the edge of Christ’s mantle jan van eyck’s greek, hebrew and trilingual inscriptions Figs 20.10a-b (a) detail of Fig. 20.7a; (b) Rogier van der Weyden, Descent from the Cross, detail, titulus, c.1435, oil on oak panel, 220 x 262 cm, Madrid, Museo Nacional del Prado, cat. P-2825 Together with the larger Hebrew letters on the hat, these Greek letters are ornamental forms which are presumably a socio-historical marker for this group of figures. It is therefore possible to construct an argument that Jan van Eyck developed a Greek alphabet that was different from those already available to him, and that he omitted to use particular medieval Greek signs because they did not meet his needs. This would be in keeping with his intellectual curiosity. He could also have found opportunities at the Burgundian court and in Bruges to make contact with men of letters.48 Broadly speaking his Greek alphabet is in keeping with medieval norms, as shown by his use of uncial omega (󰰴), lunate sigma (C) and – notably in the Portrait of a Man (Self-Portrait?) – a rather inaccurate form of lambda, in which the left leg is too short (fig. 20.1). 303 From all these observations we can draw some preliminary conclusions, focusing mainly on Van Eyck’s motto. First, in Van Eyck’s day, the practice of Greek transliteration was probably less of a rarity than is often supposed. It was not the preserve of any one single group or profession but had filtered into various groups, including, but not limited to, scribes, clerics, physicians, surgeons and painters, and those groups themselves represented different levels of knowledge and a wide variety of practices. Clerics, for example, were probably among those who composed and wrote textual amulets, in which sacred names of God feature so prominently.49 The Greek alphabet had also found its way into the realm of literature written in the vernacular. In the mid-fourteenth century a Greek alphabetical table complete with Latin equivalents appeared in copies of the Travels of Sir John Mandeville, which was composed around 1352, in French, and, in each of two recensions (Insular and Continental), offered a body of six alphabets: Greek, Egyptian, Hebrew, Saracen, Persian and Chaldean (admittedly, the alphabets are usually mangled).50 While it remains difficult to make an assessment of just how many people possessed this kind of knowledge, it is clear that it did not denote a particular social sphere but must have extended across the boundaries of the university, church, court and town. In Van Eyck’s day, moreover, it did not necessarily indicate a university education: within the group of medical practitioners, for example, physicians were university-educated but master surgeons were not. That this kind of knowledge could have circulated somewhat more widely than is often supposed is possible because the level of Greek it represented was basic. All that was needed was a simple alphabetical table. In the Carolingian period, tables of this kind might be appended to bilingual manuscripts in Greek and Latin as an aid to understanding. Some offered a simple series of letters, others a complete alphabetic table, with a phonetic transcription and equivalent letters from the Roman alphabet.51 The Greek and Hebrew alphabets in late-medieval texts of Mandeville’s Travels were 304 susan frances jones Fig. 20.11 Ghent Altarpiece, The Adoration of the Lamb, detail, ‘M-siglum’ in a band of Greek and pseudo-Greek letters on the hat of one of the Prophets of the Old Dispensation apparently derived from medieval compendia which ultimately went back to alphabets of the early medieval period.52 Secondly, Van Eyck was not exceptional in using Greek transliteration even among painters. On the available evidence, it is likely that he learnt Greek cryptography in the first instance not from scribal practice or books but as part of his training in the craft. This is affirmed by his ability to transliterate Latin phonetically into Hebrew letters, which was not a feature of scribal colophons. It is a reminder that the most apt context for the study of Van Eyck’s motto is the world of painting and painters, not of scribes. Painters (and other craftsmen) had long been required to make and to depict letters and inscriptions, making Van Eyck’s painted inscriptions a development of existing practice. The evidence suggests that in the late-medieval period inscriptions transliterated into Greek were regarded as suitable for books of hours. These books were essentially for personal devotion. The Savoy Hours, which survives only in part, was a particularly luxurious example, made in Paris in the workshop of Jean Pucelle.53A description of the book in an inventory of 11 April 1380 (known only from a copy) tells us that it had a splendid binding embroidered with pearls and decorated with seven gold fleurs-de-lys; each of the gold clasps was ornamented with two balas rubies, two sapphires and five large pearls.54 At the time, the book was in the estude of Charles V in his private apartments at his château at Vincennes.55 As noted above, the ‘Greek’ writings in this book were there for the king’s eyes: they denoted texts that were highly personal or even secret. That pseudo-Greek inscriptions appeared in such a book sheds light on Van Eyck’s practice of reserving his motto for small-scale, autonomous panel paintings rather than larger, more public works such as the Ghent Altarpiece, the Virgin and Child with Canon Joris van der Paele jan van eyck’s greek, hebrew and trilingual inscriptions and the lost Virgin of Nicholas van Maelbeke (which was probably a large painting). It suggests that complex word puzzles of this kind were considered to be appropriate to objects intended for private settings. The text of the motto is very short and the code is deliberately transparent. This is in contrast to the scribal colophons, prayer and precepts referred to above, which are relatively long and contain numerous Greek letters. In Van Eyck’s motto, the Greek letters do not obscure the Middle Dutch text but rather co-exist with it in a delicate visual and linguistic balance. The fact that the text is visibly in a vernacular language; the fact that only three Greek letters occur, and the familiarity of the Greek letters themselves – sigma (C) and chi (X) were probably the most widely known of all Greek letters because they are in the monogram of Christ (ihc xpc) – all indicate that Van Eyck wanted the code to be breakable. While he must have anticipated an educated audience, he must also have wanted to reach the maximum number of people within that group: his audience would not necessarily exclude men of learning, but it would not be composed only of such men. Since the motto undoubtedly drew attention to the intellectual refinement of the painter and his audience, it must have had a social value. That Van Eyck wanted to be perceived as socially elevated and well educated is evident from his portrait of his wife Margaret, who is shown in expensive attire, and, furthermore, ‘speaking’ Latin – implicitly an ability that Van Eyck shared. This mode of representation may have been Margaret’s due, but there may also be an element of social pretension in this portrait.56 The Greek letters in Jan van Eyck’s motto were clearly not meant to keep the text secret, even if they hint at secrecy or mystery in relation to Van Eyck’s ability. It was clearly important to Van Eyck that the viewer could at once see the Greek letters and read the words als ich can, deriving meaning from the combination of the two. The Greek letters showed the text to be personally meaningful 305 to Van Eyck as an individual whilst charging it with associations of intellectual sophistication and social status. Given that Greek letters were used consistently in Van Eyck’s painting to represent sacred names, it is very plausible that the motto had a religious meaning.57 According to Josef Koerner, writing on Van Eyck’s lost Holy Face, the chi (X) in the centre of the word ixh in the motto was a reference to Christ, adding yet another layer to an existing play on ixh and eyck. In Koerner’s view, Van Eyck’s motto was intended to evoke a comparison between the painter and Christ, and between divine and human image-making.58 The layout of the motto, consisting of three blocks of three Greek letters, is strongly evocative of the sacred monogram of Christ, ihc xpc. This is relevant to its interpretation because in Van Eyck’s inscriptional practice as a whole, the external form of an inscription tends to reinforce the meaning of the words. His motto, furthermore, was not literary but emblematic: like the monogram of Christ, it could be ‘made’ in any one of a diverse range of materials, from ink to stone to gold, but it always remained constant in form.59 The design, with regular interruptions between short ‘Greek’ words, recalls the Eyckian way of painting the titles of the Cross (see fig. 20.5) – or, indeed, the three sacred names displayed in three sacred languages on the robe of Christ in a lost Eyckian Holy Face.60 In support of such a reading, Van Eyck would certainly have perceived the two languages in the motto to have different hierarchical value. Hebrew and Greek were the two most sacred languages, with Hebrew the higher in dignity, and thus closer to God; Latin was the third sacred language and the vernacular languages were the lowest of all. Seen in this light, the motto is an inscription that deliberately combines languages from opposite ends of a hierarchy: the painter’s personal vernacular with a high-grade language of abstraction and of divinity. It could reasonably be interpreted to mean that he has made the painting to the best of his ability and with God’s grace. 306 susan frances jones Fig. 20.12 Ghent Altarpiece, John the Baptist Enthroned, detail Van Eyck’s motto is thus complex and multilayered: it was no doubt a tool for social positioning, but it was arguably also an expression of ideas and beliefs about his individual ability that were complex, and deeply personal.61 Other texts show Van Eyck cultivating the potential for a single sign to be read in a multiplicity of ways. In the panel of St John the Baptist in the Ghent Altarpiece, for example, the saint’s raised finger seems to activate the cross-shaped punctuation mark at the beginning of the inscription, so that it reads simultaneously as textual punctuation and as the Cross of Christ (fig. 20.12). The same cross can be interpreted as the trace of a gesture made in the air, perhaps referring to the gesture of blessing made by a priest at the altar, to consecrate the Eucharistic elements.62 In the Portrait of Jan de Leeuw, moreover, the inscription on the frame contains a double chronogram, in which particular Roman letters (V, X, L, C and so forth) can also be seen as numerals. Who were the viewers and audiences of Van Eyck’s motto? That the text is in Middle Dutch indicates that Van Eyck designed it first and foremost for viewers in the Netherlands, who knew the language. Since the motto appears on the Portrait of Margaret van Eyck and the Portrait of a Man (Self- Portrait?), his intended audiences may have included members of his own social circle. Nonetheless, the heraldry of the Marian triptych now in Dresden, which also bears the motto, has been linked to the Genoese merchant family Giustiniani.63 The small scale and portability of such works meant that potentially they could be used to convey ideas about painting to eminent viewers throughout Europe. It is widely accepted that the words als ich can were a modesty formula, allowing Van Eyck to appear modest whilst in fact asserting his superiority over every other painter. This may be the case, for he must have recognised how exceptional his ability was. A different motivation for signing and dating his work and adopting a motto would be to set an example to other painters. For the beholder, the motto was an encouragement to perceive the object as a product of individual aptitudes and skills. That such ideas were discussed and emulated among painters is clear from the addition of the motto als ich chun to a painting of the Crucifixion (Vienna, Belvedere, 1449) by the Swabian painter Conrad Laib.64 While Van Eyck’s practice of signing and dating does appear to have been new in panel painting of the region – there is no surviving evidence that jan van eyck’s greek, hebrew and trilingual inscriptions earlier painters systematically signed and dated their works, or had personal mottoes – that novelty is not explained solely by the theory that Van Eyck borrowed from scribal or notarial practice. As suggested by his deliberate revival of a late-twelfthcentury mixed-hand majuscule script, shown in the presumed self-portrait (fig. 20.1), it is plausible that Van Eyck derived the practice from the signatures of esteemed craftsmen of the Romanesque period, whose names he saw at the edges of old and venerable objects that interested him. These old signatures were crafted in the traditional epigraphic materials of gold, bronze and stone – the same materials that Van Eyck imitated on the frames of his paintings. The motto never appears separately from Van Eyck’s name and the date, and, importantly, it contains a square form of sigma (see figs 20.1, 20.2). In other ‘Greek’ inscriptions – such as the titles of the Cross, the hem of the Enthroned Deity’s mantle, and the yecyc tiles in the Ghent Altarpiece – he used a lunate sigma. This suggests that he wanted his motto, like his signature, to hark back to a distant, pre-Gothic era. Van Eyck’s aim was arguably to create a continuum between his ‘modern’ painting and artefacts from the fardistant past made in his own region. By interpreting Van Eyck’s motto and his signatures in the light of ancient and humanistic art ‘theory’ rather than the context of Bruges and the Burgundian court we risk misidentifying the sources of his knowledge and misunderstanding the contemporary perception of his oeuvre. NOTES * For their help in reading and interpreting painted texts in Greek and Hebrew I am deeply grateful to Irene Zwiep, Robert Ireland and Orly Moshenberg. I owe special gratitude to the late Professor Chimen Abramsky for looking at Van Eyck’s Hebrew inscriptions with me. I would also like to thank Lorne Campbell, Stephan Kemperdick, John Lowden, Didier Martens, Catherine Reynolds, Gervais Rosser and Cyriel Stroo for informative conversations and Lee Preedy for her careful editing of the text. 1 Berschin 1988, p. 19. 2 The sizes of the signed and dated works are: Portrait of a Man (Self-Portrait?) (1433, The National Gallery, London), 33.1 ≈ 25.9 cm; Virgin and Child with Saints Catherine and Michael and a Donor (1437, Dresden, Gemäldegalerie Alte Meister), panel 33.2 ≈ 27.2 cm (centre panel with original frame); the Virgin by a Fountain (1439, Koninklijk 307 Museum voor Schone Kunsten, Antwerp), 24.8 ≈ 18.1 cm and the Portrait of Margaret Van Eyck (1439, Groeningemuseum, Bruges), 41.3 ≈ 34.5 cm. 3 The system as described here is based on the Ghent Altarpiece and the signed and dated, and generally accepted works of Jan Van Eyck; it does not include the work of Hand G of the Turin-Milan Hours, which deserves separate consideration. Van Eyck used the forms of Greek available to him in his own culture. Van Eyck’s majuscule omega is shaped like a large, rounded W, as the majuscule omega shaped like an inverted horseshoe (Ω), was unknown in the West in the Middle Ages (for which see Berschin 1988, p. 30). Similarly, Van Eyck’s sigma is either a square form or a lunate form, rather than the fourstroke sigma (Σ). The Greek alphabet was almost always written in majuscule form in the West. 4 Scheller 1968, p. 136. 5 Ibid., p. 137. 6 Bischoff 1951, pp. 27-55, esp. pp 32-39. 7 Bénédictins de Bouveret 1965, no. 94, p. 12. 8 Ibid., no. 2355, p. 295; Kahsnitz 1971, p. 373 (the inscription is arranged in two columns). 9 For this aspect of transcription, see Berschin 1988, p. 30. Kaczynski 1988, pp. 28-30; Bischoff 1951, p. 36, n. 4. 10 Smeyers 1996, p. 404. 11 Scheller 1968, p. 137 provides a coherent explanation for the use of chi (X) in the motto. 12 See Dhanens 1980, p. 180. Similarly, in the only surviving example of his handwriting, on the drawing of a man in Dresden (Kupferstichkabinett), Van Eyck wrote den auge for ‘the eyes’, but on the frame of the Portrait of Jan de Leeuw, he used the word oghen. 13 Smeyers 1996, p. 404. 14 Scheller 1968, p. 139. For Fazio, see Baxandall 1964, pp. 102, 103. 15 Campbell 1998, p. 222. For Van Eyck’s Greek and Hebrew inscriptions in relation to sacred names and formulae, see Mély 1921, pp. 1-16; the most comprehensive and up-to-date text, however, is Paviot, Goren 2006, pp. 68-72. 16 For an overview of the arguments see Campbell 1998, p. 220. 17 Ibid., p. 222. 18 Dr Robert Ireland (University College London) suggested to me that Van Eyck may deliberately have decided to use upsilon here to make the inscription appear more Greek (in conversation). 19 Among the deaths announced to the General Chapter of the Carthusian Order in 1468 was that of the prior of the Charterhouse of the Hanseatic city of Rostock ‘Domnus Tymotheus’: see Sargent, Hogg 1985, p. 55. I thank Lorne Campbell for this reference. 20 Campbell 1998, p. 220. 21 I am following here Kieckhefer 1989, pp. 8-17 and passim. 22 Ibid., 1989, p. 40. 23 Thomas, Pavitt 1922, p. 107. 24 For textual amulets, see Skemer 2006, pp. 78-79, 125-27, 144151 and passim; Kieckhefer 1989, pp. 75-80. 25 In the Ghent Altarpiece, the plaque is painted partly on top of pre-existing paint layers; see the ‘closer to van eyck’ website (http:// closertovaneyck.kikirpa.be). 26 That this is a system of transliteration was recognized by Irene Zwiep, Professor of Hebrew and Jewish Studies at the University of Amsterdam, when at the Warburg Institute in 1996. The same solution was proposed earlier by Eugen Schiltz in relation to the Eyckian Crucifixion and Last Judgement in The Metropolitan Museum, New York, for which see Paviot, Goren 2006, pp. 59-60. Paviot and Goren, in contrast, have focused on reading Hebrew words in this and other Hebrew texts in Eyckian painting, for which see Paviot, Goren 2006, pp. 56-60. 27 This reading is supported by the Hebrew lines in the tituli in both the Eyckian Crucifixion and Last Judgement in The Metropolitan Museum, New York, in which the texts are more extensive. The 308 susan frances jones Hebrew line in the Crucifixion reads (from right to left): yod - shin / nun - aleph - zayin / resh - a’yin - zadi / yod - waw (?) - daleth (?) – and an unidentified letter. This is intended for the Latin text: IS / NAZ / REX / IUD. The Hebrew line in the Last Judgement reads: yod - a’yin / nun - aleph – peh (?) / resh - a’yin - zadi / yod - waw - daleth - a’yin – waw (?). This can be ‘read’ in Latin as: IE / NAP / REX / IUDEU. 28 I owe this information to Irene Zwiep; for the use of this equivalent see also Fuks 1957, pp. xxxvii and xxxiv. 29 See Bodenstedt 1944, pp. 134-35. 30 To give but one example, see Dalton 1912, no. 881, p. 139 (fourteenth century). 31 The description of the charm, how Arderne acquired it, and its content, are all recorded in a fifteenth-century Latin copy of Arderne’s Practica de Fistula in Ano, &c. (The British Library, Sloane Ms 2002, fols 79-80v). Another version of the same treatise, written in English in the early fifteenth century (British Library, Sloane Ms 6, fols 141-154v) lacks the description of the charm. For the 1910 edition of the English version the editor, D’Arcy Power, copied the text about the charm from Sloane Ms 2002, providing both the Latin text and an English translation. It was presumably D’Arcy Power who introduced the archaic term ‘understanded’ rather than using ‘understood’; see Power 1910, pp. 102-103 (Latin), pp. 103-104 (English) and p. 135, n. 102/8. For Arderne’s charm, see also Skemer 2006, pp. 144-145. 32 Power 1910, p. 104. 33 Kieckhefer 1989, pp. 117-118. 34 Ibid., pp. 140-43. 35 Ibid., pp. 119. 36 For this text in relation to Van Eyck, see Smeyers 1996, p. 406 and Paviot, Goren 2006, pp. 53-54. 37 For runic and other cryptography, see Kieckhefer 1989, p. 141 and nn. 28 and 29. 38 Corner 1936, pp. 745-750. 39 For the transcriptions, see Durrieu 1911, pp. 514, 536-539. The relevant part of the manuscript was destroyed in the fire at the Biblioteca Nazionale Turin in 1904. The surviving fragment is in New Haven, Yale University, Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library, Ms 390. 40 Buettner 1992, p. 80. 41 For the use of Hebrew to extol the king’s wisdom, see Kupfer 2008, p. 84 and passim. 42 Grandmaison 1912, pp. 77-79. I am grateful to Lorne Campbell for bringing this article to my attention. 43 Clark 1986, p. 123. 44 Mantovani 2000, p. 41. 45 The system of Greek transliteration was worked out by De Ridder; see De Ridder 1989-1991, pp. 119-121. 46 This would explain the texts in the Crucifixion in the Gemäldegalerie, Berlin and The Metropolitan Museum, New York. A different usage was adopted in the Ca’ d’Oro Crucifixion. 47 On these forms, see Kaczynski 1988, p. 29. 48 The pursuit of correct forms of Hebrew preoccupied learned men at the court of Charles V of France, resulting in a genuine Hebrew inscription in a Mandeville’s Travels made for the king; Kupfer 2008, pp. 60-91. 49 Skemer 2006, pp. 128-129. 50 See Letts 1949, pp. 151-160; Kupfer 2008, pp. 59-60; Paviot, Goren 2006, p. 54. 51 Berschin 1988, pp. 101, 128, 142, 209-210. 52 Kupfer 2008, p. 59. 53 Baltimore 1998, pp. 28-29, 31-32, 39, 176-178. The extant pages measure 20.1 ≈ 14.7 cm, trimmed up to the margins; Durrieu 1911, p. 534 suggested that the original size was as large as 25.0 ≈ 17.0 cm. 54 Durrieu 1911, p. 519. 55 Durrieu 1911, pp. 518-519, 534. 56 These ideas – including the notion that the portrait may be somewhat pretentious – were discussed by Catherine Reynolds in ‘Gossaert and the Netherlandish Tradition’, lecture, The National Gallery, London, 4 March 2011. 57 This was the opinion of De Vos 1983, p. 3 and Gludovatz 2005, p. 134. 58 Koerner 1993, p. 107. A visual association with Christ has been perceived by Susie Nash in Van Eyck’s presumed self-portrait, in which the number 33 of the date, written in Arabic numerals, is the age of Christ at his death; see Nash, 2008, p. 154. 59 Gludovatz 2005, p. 135 points out the emblematic quality of the motto. 60 The version closest to the lost work – one of several Eyckian archetypes – is probably that sold at Sotheby’s New York, 16 May 1996, no. 181. 61 For the notion of a ‘explicit layered quality’ in the Renaissance notion of the individual, manifest as early as the fourteenth century, see Martin 2000, pp. 11-31. 62 With respect to a prayer to the archangels, Eamon Duffy observed that the sign of the cross in the text of a prayer was a prompt for the reader to make the sign in actuality; Duffy 1992, p. 271. 63 For the Dresden Triptych, see Neidhardt, Schölzel 2005, pp. 20-21. 64 The full text is: d PFENNING / 1449/ ALS ICH CHUN. For Laib see Kemperdick 2010, p. 56.