Holbein’s return to Basel—Enters the Painters’ Guild “zum Himmel”—Becomes a burgher—His marriage—Portrait of Bonifacius Amerbach—The Amerbach Collection—Church pictures—The “Nativity” and “Adoration of the Kings” at Freiburg—Hans Oberried—The altar-piece of the “Passion of Christ” at Basel—Italian influences in his work—The “Noli Me Tangere” at Hampton Court—“Christ as the Man of Sorrows” and “Mary as Mater Dolorosa”—Designs for sacred pictures or wall-paintings—The “Dead Christ in the Tomb”—The Solothurn Madonna—History of the picture—“St. Ursula” and “St. George” at Karlsruhe—The organ doors of Basel Cathedral.
IN the summer or autumn of 1519 Holbein was back again in Basel. His return may have been due to lack of sufficient employment in Lucerne, or it may be that he was recalled by news of the death of his brother Ambrosius. As already pointed out, no traces of the latter can be found after this year, and it is generally supposed that he died about this time. If such were the case, it is natural that Hans should return, in order to wind up his brother’s affairs, and it may be, to complete any commissions he may have left unfinished. Slight indications, also, of a visit to his father, who was then working in Isenheim, not far from Basel, are perhaps afforded by his designs for painted glass at Murbach and Andlau, described in a later chapter, which he produced in the following year.[189] He now made Basel his permanent residence, and from that time until he came to England, seven years later, he was very busily employed in painting portraits, altar-pieces for churches, decorating house-fronts and interiors, and supplying designs for book illustrations, and for the glass-painters, armourers, and metal-workers of his adopted city.
On September 25, 1519, he became a member of the Painters’ Guild, the “Zunft zum Himmel.” The entry runs: “Item, Hans Holbein the painter has been received into the Guild on Sunday before St. Michael’s Day, in the year 1519, and has sworn to preserve the statutes of the Guild like every other Guild brother of the painters.” (“Item es hat die Zunfft entffangen Hans Holbein der moller vff suntag vor sant michelss Dag im XVCXIX jor vnd hat geschworen Der Zunft ordnung zu halten wie ein ander Zunfftbruder der moller.”[190] His coat of arms,[191] a black bull’s head with ringed nose, on a yellow or gold ground, surmounted by a red star between the horns, and with “Hans Holbein de maller” inscribed above it, painted at the time he was admitted a member, remained in the Guild Chamber until modern times, and is now in the Basel Historical Museum. The entrance fee was one pound three shillings. He soon appears to have become an important member of the confraternity, for in the following year, on June 25, 1520, he was elected chamber-master of the Guild, as set forth in the treasurer’s book. A few days afterwards, on July 3, 1520, he obtained the rights of citizenship; probably a residence of twelve months was necessary before the freedom of the city could be obtained, and Holbein had now been back in Basel for about a year. The entry in the town book runs as follows:—“Item, Tuesday before St. Ulrich’s Day anno 20 Hans Holbein of Augsburg, painter, has received the right of citizenship, and has sworn in the customary manner.” (“Item Zinstag vor Vlrici anno XX 1st Hans Holbeinen von Augspurg dem maler das burgrecht glichenn. Et juravit pro ut moris est.”)[192] Less than a month afterwards his name occurs, on the 1st of August 1520, in the records of the Court of Justice. The wife of the painter Michel Schuman sued him for a debt of eight pounds, which he was condemned to pay, a proceeding recalling similar monetary difficulties in his father’s life.
It was probably about the same time that Holbein married Elsbeth Schmid, the widow of a tanner, with one son named Franz, who afterwards followed the occupation of his father. It appears possible, therefore, that she may have been possessed of some means, and that she carried on the tannery business until her son was of age. Perhaps both marriage and citizenship were necessary qualifications for membership of the Guild “zum Himmel,” as was the case with other guilds elsewhere, and some such regulation may have been one of the chief causes which brought about Holbein’s early marriage. In Breslau, for instance, a painter who wished to settle in the town as a master was obliged to be married, or if not, must have taken a wife within a year and a day of his entry into the Guild, under a penalty of ten marks.[193] Additional proof that the marriage must have taken place in 1520 or 1521 is afforded by the Solothurn “Madonna,” dated 1522, for which Holbein’s wife and infant son served as the models for the Virgin and Child.
A few weeks after his admittance into the Guild, Holbein finished one of the most beautiful portraits of his Basel period—that of Bonifacius Amerbach, to whose unfailing admiration of Holbein’s art the present fine collection of his works in the Basel Gallery is due. Bonifacius was the youngest of the three sons of Hans Amerbach, the scholar, and afterwards printer and publisher, who, born in Reutlingen, settled in Basel in 1484, where he set up a printing-press which soon became famous, and attracted a number of learned men, who assisted him in preparing books and translations for publication, which included several fine editions of the early Fathers. His three sons were all brilliant scholars. Bonifacius, born in 1492, was about five years older than Holbein. His education was a very thorough one, and while pursuing his studies he was closely associated with various scholars of an older generation than his own, such as Conrad Leontorius, Gebwiler, Beatus Rhenanus, and the Franciscan monk, Johann Conon of Nuremburg, under whom he studied Greek. Later on he went to the University of Freiburg, where he lived with Ulrich Zasius, who was both his teacher and friend. He afterwards continued the study of the law at Avignon under Alciat, and at Montpellier, and in 1525 received the appointment of professor of law in the Basel University. He became a close friend of Erasmus, hardly a day passing without some intercourse between them. The elder scholar, who had the highest admiration for his abilities and learning, grew to regard him almost as a son, and appointed him his heir. Contemporary references to him speak not only of his great scholastic gifts, but of the modesty and amiability of his character, his integrity, his lively wit, and his talent for music and poetry. One such reference, quoted by Hegner,[194] speaks of him as a tall man, with a charming countenance, who made use of brave, serious language, and appeared modestly attired in a long coat.
It is to be assumed from Amerbach’s enthusiasm in collecting every picture, drawing, and design by Holbein which he could find, that the two young men became personal friends, or, at least, that their acquaintance, first made in the latter’s painting-room, grew to be a closer one than was usually formed between sitter and artist in days when the painter and his craft were not always very highly considered, or his social standing more than a very modest one. Amerbach also collected pictures and sketches by other artists, and engravings, coins, and antiquities of all kinds. Upon his death in 1562 his son Basilius inherited the collection, and, inheriting also the artistic tastes of his father, he added, in course of time, a number of important examples, among them various works by Holbein, including the copy of the Praise of Folly with the marginal drawings. In 1586 he drew up an inventory and catalogue of the collection, which by that time had obtained considerable reputation. It remained in the possession of his descendants until the middle of the seventeenth century, when it was offered for sale, and was purchased by his native city for the very moderate price of 9000 rix-dollars in the summer of 1662. In addition to examples of metal-work, ivory carvings, coins, and various objects of decorative art, the collection contained forty-nine paintings, of which fifteen were attributed to Holbein, and a chest of thirty-seven drawers, all full of sketches and engravings, among them one hundred and four original drawings by Holbein, a sketch-book with eighty-five studies, one hundred and eleven woodcuts after his designs, the illustrated Praise of Folly, and two copies each of the “Dance of Death” and “Old Testament” woodcuts. Modern criticism has somewhat reduced these numbers, but the collection is one of extraordinary value, and, thanks to the energy and artistic taste of the father and son who formed it, and thus preserved many examples which otherwise would have been scattered and lost, it is possible for the Holbein student of to-day to obtain very adequate knowledge of much that the great artist accomplished during the earlier half of his life.[195]
In Holbein’s portrait of Bonifacius Amerbach, in the Basel Gallery (No. 314) (Pl. 28),[196] the jurist is represented to the shoulders, almost in profile to the spectator’s left, a little less than the size of life. He wears a black velvet cap and a black gown with a fur collar, open to show the under-vest of blue-green damask and small white ruff round the neck. The fine, handsome face, with its prominent nose, is of a warm, ruddy complexion, and the bushy hair, which almost hides the ears, and the beard and moustache, are of chestnut colour. On a tree-trunk on the left hangs a large framed tablet with a Latin inscription, probably composed by Erasmus, in which the picture itself is made to extol the art of the painter for its truth to nature. Below these lines the names of the artist and the sitter, and the date, October 14, 1519, are given—
The head stands out against a pale blue-green sky, with the snow-covered crests of the Schneeberg in the distant background, and the branch of a vine or fig-tree on the right. The richness and transparency of the colour is remarkable; it is, perhaps, of all Holbein’s portraits the most transparent in effect, with no trace of the dryness which sometimes characterises his later work.[197] In technical execution it shows a considerable advance on the earlier portraits of Meyer and his wife and of Benedikt von Hertenstein, the modelling and the minute and accurate draughtsmanship of the details, such as the beard and the hair, being already almost as masterly and assured as in his greatest portraits painted fourteen or fifteen years later. As a study of character and expression, too, it is very striking. The combined strength and refinement of Amerbach’s nature, and the kindliness and sense of humour which shine from his deep blue eyes, below projecting brows, have been admirably rendered, and in many ways the portrait shows that Holbein had already attained almost, if not quite, to the full maturity of his powers. In it, too, can be seen for the first time in his portraiture the practical application of the experience he must have gained during his visit to Italy, for in the lighter, gayer, scheme of colour, and the change in technique, which gradually developed into the enamel-like surface of his flesh tints which is so characteristic a feature of his English portraits, the influence of the painters of Lombardy, such as Leonardo, Mantegna, Luini, and others, is plainly evident.[198] In the Amerbach inventory it is described as: “Meines vatters conterfehtung in der iugend H. Holbeins vf holz mit ölfarb.” There is an old copy of it in the Karlsruhe Gallery.
BONIFACIUS AMERBACH
1519
Basel Gallery
During the first years of his citizenship Holbein received a number of commissions for sacred paintings for churches, including the cathedral. For the last-named building he painted the great folding doors of the organ-case, and possibly the altar-piece, now lost, of which, however, the wings, with scenes from the Passion, remain, among the most valued possessions of the Basel Gallery. A still earlier connection with the cathedral works is proved by an entry in the Bishop’s court-treasury accounts for September 1520; and that at this time, only a month or two after he had taken up his rights of citizenship, he was not too proud to undertake tasks of the humblest kind, is shown by the nature of the commission, which was merely for the painting over of some stonework.[199] Only a few of his sacred works have survived. Others, no doubt, were destroyed during the religious disturbances of 1529, when so many of the pictures and works of art in the Basel churches were burnt or shattered to pieces by the mob.
Old copies or engravings exist of several of these destroyed pictures, so that some idea can be obtained of the originals. In all instances they appear to be works of the early Basel period. Earliest of all, possibly one of the very first pictures painted by him in that city, is a “Christ on the Cross between Mary and John,” of which there is a copy in the Basel Gallery. This copy, according to the Amerbach inventory, was made by a Bavarian painter, Jakob Clauser, a contemporary and associate of Holbein. A painting of “Christ taken Prisoner,” some years later in date, is now only known from an engraving by W. Akersloot, done in 1664. This is a very fine composition, with striking effects of lighting produced by the flaming torches and a large lantern carried by the soldiers, recalling the earlier picture in the first “Passion” series on canvas, as well as “The Arrest” in the Basel altar-piece and the “Adoration of the Shepherds” at Freiburg. There are also two etchings by Hollar after two lost works by Holbein, one representing the “Lamentations over Christ after the taking down from the Cross” (Parthey, 109), which appears to have been the central panel of a triptych, and the other a figure of “St. Barbara” in a landscape (Parthey, 176), which bears a close resemblance to the glass design representing the same saint in the Basel Gallery, described in a later chapter.[200] Finally, there is a series of nine paintings on canvas, representing the Prophets, shown in pairs, now in the Basel Gallery, and coming from the Faesch Collection. According to the Faesch inventory, these are copies made by Bartholomäus Sarburgh after Holbein, and Patin states that the originals, which have now disappeared, were taken by Sarburgh to Belgium.[201] These copies and engravings have all been reproduced by Dr. Ganz in his latest work on the master.[202]
ADORATION OF THE SHEPHERDS
Inner side of the left wing
of the Oberried Altar-piece
University Chapel, Freiburg Minster
ADORATION OF THE KINGS
Inner side of the right wing
of the Oberried Altar-piece
University Chapel, Freiburg Minster
Among those which escaped the fury of the iconoclasts only one or two are dated, but all of them were produced between the years 1519 and 1526. One of the earliest, “The Last Supper,” has been already described; two others of about the same date are now in the University Chapel of the minster at Freiburg-im-Breisgau. They are the two wings of an altar-piece, with curved tops, representing “The Nativity” and “The Adoration of the Kings” (Pl. 29).[203] In both panels the artist has striven to achieve striking contrasts of light and shade. In “The Nativity” the figures, which are very small, are placed amid the ruined splendours of some palace of Renaissance architecture, with tall marble pillars, carved capitals, and shattered arches, through which the light of the moon, cloud-obscured, glimmers faintly. The chief illumination emanates from the Infant Christ, who lies, a small nude figure, on his white-covered little bed. The soft, supernatural brilliance lights up the faces and figures of Mary and Joseph, who bend over the Child in adoration. This unusual effect of lighting is also to be found in a second painting of “The Nativity” in Freiburg Minster, a fine example of the work of Hans Baldung Grien, completed in 1516; and again in Correggio’s famous “Night,” painted some years later. In Holbein’s picture this light also plays over the small angels who surround the bed, and less brightly on the figure of one of the shepherds peering round a pillar on the left, and on the undersides of the arches overhead. The wings of the attendant angels, instead of springing from the shoulders, grow along and form part of the arms, apparently an original conception of the painter’s.[204] In the distance, forming a radiant patch of light amid the darkness of the background, is seen the angel who is hastening to carry the glad tidings to the shepherds. Above, in the sky, the moon also bends and does homage to the new-born Child; to suggest this, Holbein has represented its disc as turned down towards the bed, and foreshortened.[205] The source from which this arrangement was taken was the passage in the Apocrypha: “And behold the cave was filled with a light, surpassing the brilliancy of tapers and torches and greater than sunlight.” The effect of the gradually diminishing radiance, which finally loses itself amid the dimly seen ruins, where it mingles with the pale effulgence of the moon, has been finely rendered, and though the picture has suffered some damage, it still retains much of its charm, particularly in the small figures of the angels with their graceful gestures.
In the “Adoration of the Kings,” the personages are grouped in front of a great half-ruined building, more massive and less ornate than the one in the “Nativity,” whose walls and broken towers, upon which vegetation grows, recede into the distance. Overhead shines the Star of Bethlehem, which has guided the kings on their journey, so bright, in spite of the clouds which partly veil it, as to make the daylight seem almost dark. One of the members of the retinue is gazing upwards at it, and is forced to shield his eyes with his hand, so great is its brilliance. The Virgin is seated with the Child on her knees, before whom the eldest king, an old man with a long grey beard, and dressed in a red robe and a large ermine cape, is kneeling in adoration and offering a golden cup. On the left stands the Moorish king, in white, waiting his turn to present his gifts, and in front of him is a greyhound, which also is looking towards the Child. The second of the three worshippers is on the right, a dark-bearded man, with white ribbons fluttering from his crown, and his offering held in front of him. Numerous figures of attendants are seen in the background. In both pictures the head of Mary is a very expressive one. In a narrow compartment at the bottom of each panel the donor, Hans Oberried, and his family are represented kneeling in a long row. On the one side, under the “Nativity,” are the donor and his six sons; on the other, under the “Adoration,” his wife, Amalie Tschekkenbürlin, and his four daughters. At the front of each row of figures is a shield with the coat of arms of the two families.
These two panels, which were once the wings of an arched altar-piece, the centre panel of which has disappeared, have suffered considerably in the course of their wanderings, more particularly the “Adoration,” from injudicious repaintings and repairs, so that much of the beauty of the original colouring has been lost. They appear to have been among Holbein’s earliest sacred works after his return from Lucerne, and in them German and Italian influences are commingled; but in spite of their charm and naïveté, they do not show that mastery of technique which is already to be found in such a portrait as that of Amerbach, though this no doubt is largely owing to repairs and restoration by some later hand. This less assured touch is particularly noticeable in the figures of the donor and his family.
They were a commission from the merchant Hans Oberried, a native of Freiburg, at the time a town councillor of Basel, in which town he had been resident for nearly thirty years, but who, as an adherent of the Catholic party, was dismissed from office during the religious disturbances of 1529. He therefore renounced his citizenship, and, like Erasmus and Amerbach, left the town and returned to Freiburg, where members of his family still lived. It has been suggested that he ordered this altar-piece of Holbein for presentation to the church of the Carthusian Monastery in Basel, in which a near relative of his wife’s, Hieronymus Tschekkenbürlin, was prior. This monastery was in Little Basel, where the Catholic party were in the ascendant, so that some of their pictures and church ornaments were saved from the fury of the mob. Oberried may, therefore, have succeeded in carrying off the two panels with him, though forced to leave the centre one behind, as too big for concealment. His name occurs on one occasion in the Basel town records in connection with Holbein. On September 14, 1521, the Council paid to him a sum of money due to the painter—probably in connection with the Town Hall wall-paintings—which was possibly in discharge of a debt which the councillor had failed to obtain from the artist.[206]
Oberried died in the same year as the painter, 1543, but the two panels do not appear to have been placed in the chapel of the minster until October 17, 1554, on which day the altar over which they hang was consecrated. With the exception of two short intervals, they have remained ever since in Freiburg. During the Thirty Years War they were sent to Schaffhausen for safety. From there the Elector Maximilian I of Bavaria had them brought to Munich for his inspection, and later on they were taken to Ratisbon, in order to be shown to the Emperor Ferdinand III. In 1796 they were carried away by the French, but were returned from Colmar in 1808.[207] They were then replaced over the altar of the University Chapel in the choir of the minster, where they still remain, the only church paintings by Holbein still to be found hanging within the walls of a consecrated building. About the time of their return from France they appear to have undergone a severe restoration.
The altar-piece in the Basel Gallery (No. 315) (Pl. 30),[208] consisting of eight scenes from the Passion of Christ, on four upright panels, forming the wings of a triptych, was evidently painted after Holbein’s return from those wanderings which took him for a short period over the Alps, for in composition and colour-scheme it displays a marked North Italian influence. At one time it was regarded throughout Switzerland as Holbein’s masterpiece. Nothing is known of its early history, but it was held in the highest estimation throughout the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. According to tradition, it was originally painted for the cathedral of Basel, and was, by some means or other, saved from destruction during the troubles of 1529. In this case tradition appears to have probability on its side.[209] On November 5, 1770, it was removed from the Basel Town Hall, where it had been hanging for more than two hundred years, and was placed in the Library among the other art treasures of the city, in which building the collection was housed until the present Gallery was built. Numerous early references to it are to be found which testify to its great reputation in the past. Sandrart was enthusiastic in its praises. “The most excellent and the crown of all his art,” he wrote, “is the Passion of Christ, painted on a panel in eight compartments, and preserved in the Town Hall at Basel; a work in which all that art can do is to be found, both as regards the devotion and the grace of the persons represented, whether religious or secular, or of a higher or lower class, and with respect to the figures, building, landscape, day and night. This panel testifies to the honour and fame of its master, giving place to none either in Germany or Italy, and justly bearing the laurel wreath among ancient works.”[210]
Sandrart, when painting the portrait of Maximilian I of Bavaria, who was a great art-collector, spoke so highly of this work that the latter determined to possess it. He is said to have offered the Baselers any price they liked to put upon it; and, having already succeeded in tempting the Nurembergers to part with Dürer’s “Apostles,” although the painter had bequeathed them to his native city, he hoped to be equally successful in this instance; but the Basel councillors were less mercenary, and refused his offer.
THE PASSION OF CHRIST
Outer sides of the Wings of an Altar-Piece
Basel Gallery
In more recent days this altar-piece has been subjected to severe and unfavourable criticism. Rumohr refused to accept Holbein as its author, and Mr. Wornum regarded it as a careful work by the elder Holbein, though better in grouping and decoration than was usual with him. He could not see in it any sign of the younger Holbein’s stupendous power of grasping and representing individual character, and thought that though the composition might possibly be his, the actual painting was certainly the work of some other hand.[211] Unfortunately, in 1771, immediately after the picture’s transference from the Town Hall to the Library, it was placed in the hands of Nikolaus Grooth of Stuttgart for restoration, who succeeded only too well in removing all the original beauty of the colouring, though leaving the drawing much as he found it. Though following to the best of his ability Holbein’s colour-scheme, he completely destroyed its harmony, and obliterated all signs of the delicacy of the painter’s brushwork by the garish tones and smooth finish which he gave to the whole surface.[212] The picture thus retains little of its early beauty, charm, and freshness, but in spite of the superadded paint of the restorer, it is an undoubted and an important work by the master of about the year 1520. This can be seen most clearly, perhaps, when the picture is studied from photographs, in which the eye is not misled by gaudy and inharmonious colour. It is, no doubt, owing to this painful restoration that more than one earlier writer has refused to regard it as Holbein’s handiwork. On the other hand, Woltmann was of opinion that Grooth’s restoration was limited to careful cleaning and slight retouching, and he states that this is proved by existing records in the minutes of the University.[213] The general effect of the small pictures of which it is composed is also marred by the heavy upright bars of the gold frame which divide each wing into two parts.
The top is circular, and Holbein has divided each panel into two by a horizontal band of scroll and leaf ornament in gold. The four scenes in the upper half, running from left to right, are “Christ on the Mount of Olives,” “The Kiss of Judas,” “Christ before the High Priest,” and “The Scourging”; and in the lower half, “Christ Mocked,” “Christ bearing the Cross,” “The Crucifixion,” and “The Burial.” This arrangement gives a series of high, narrow compartments, about 26 in. high by 13 in. wide, and in the filling of them the artist has adapted his composition to this somewhat unusual shape with remarkable skill.
CHRIST BEARING THE CROSS
Details of the outer sides of the wings of the “Passion” Altar-piece
Basel Gallery
THE CRUCIFIXION
Details of the outer sides of the wings of the “Passion” Altar-piece
Basel Gallery
In spite of the cruel treatment to which it has been subjected, enough of Holbein’s original work remains to show a striking advance in composition, power of conception, and dramatic feeling when compared with the “Passion” pictures produced by the two brothers some four or five years earlier. Each one of the subjects forms a small but complete picture in itself, but at the same time they have been combined, by a judicious arrangement of light and shade, into one harmonious whole. In each composition the story is told with considerable dramatic force, and the facial types are in most cases less grotesque than in the earlier “Passion,” in which an exaggerated ugliness of feature is made use of in order to bring home to the spectator the hateful character of the persecutors of Christ. Here and there the drawing is somewhat faulty, more particularly where violent action is shown, as in the movements of the soldiers with whips and rods in “The Scourging.” In several of the scenes the lighting is managed with admirable effect. In “Christ on the Mount of Olives” the black darkness of the night is brightly illuminated by the flying angel upholding the Cross, the radiance falling upon the uplifted face of the kneeling Saviour and on the heads of the disciples sleeping at his side, while in the distance the light from a single torch glitters on the helmets of the advancing soldiers. In the next two scenes the light comes entirely from the torches of the soldiery. In the “Kiss of Judas” it illuminates the trunk and lower branches of a great tree, the heads of Christ and Judas, and the uplifted spears and battle-axes of the mob of gesticulating and shouting men who are roughly binding their captive. In the foreground St. Peter, kneeling over the body of Malchus, holds the knife aloft with which he is about to strike off the latter’s ear. The scene is full of dramatic movement. In “Christ before the High Priest,” the torches light up the front of an elaborate Renaissance building and the raised seat of Caiaphas. Both the “Scourging” and “Mocking” take place within the interior of an equally elaborate edifice, with large arches and marble pillars, the light in the former coming through circular windows. In the “Scourging” the utmost vehemence is displayed in the actions of the soldiers; in the “Mocking” the figure of Christ has great nobility of character. In “Christ bearing the Cross” (Pl. 31 (1)) the foreground is crowded with figures issuing through the gateway of the town, one of the round towers of which rises to the top of the picture, while in the distance are seen the walls and roofs and bridges of a city by a river, with horsemen and other figures, and lofty snow mountains in the background. In “Christ on the Cross” (Pl. 31 (2)) the three crucified figures stand out strongly against an inky black background. In the final scene the dead body of Christ is borne across a green meadow towards the entrance to the tomb, which is cut in a lofty rock, in the fissures of which trees and bushes are growing, while some way off the Virgin and others with her stand overcome with grief. The whole composition of this altar-piece shows the influence of Holbein’s Italian visit in more ways than one; and in it he has abandoned to a very great extent the earlier practice of his country in the figures of his soldiers, who are no longer dressed in the German costume of his day, but in the Roman helmet and accoutrements such as he must have seen in contemporary Italian pictures, more particularly those of Mantegna. Although the types of some of the heads are distinctly German, recalling similar heads in his father’s pictures and his own earlier works, the predominating influence is Italian. At about the time of his visit to Italy Luini and Gaudenzio Ferrari were at work together upon the screen for the ancona in the chapel of Sant’ Abbondio in the cathedral at Como, and it is suggested, not only that Holbein must have studied this, and earlier works by the two Italian masters in the same building, such as the great altar-piece in the Sant’ Abbondio Chapel now regarded as largely Ferrari’s work, and the beautiful altar-piece by Luini in the neighbouring chapel of St. Jerome, but that possibly he also entered the studio of one or the other of them for a short period. Reminiscences of Ferrari in particular can be traced in this and other sacred paintings produced by Holbein at about this time.[214] For his background motives he appears to have made use in some instances of buildings close at hand; in others traces of his journey over the Alps can be seen. Thus, in the “Scourging” the setting recalls the Romanesque architecture of the neighbouring church of Othmarsheim, that of the “Mocking” the interior of the cathedral of Basel, while the round tower in the “Cross-Bearing” resembles the flanking towers to one of the gates of the same city.[215]
The small picture of “Mary Magdalen at the Holy Sepulchre,” or “Noli Me Tangere,”[216] in Hampton Court Palace (No. 599) (Pl. 32), is closely allied to the Basel altar-piece, and was probably painted at about the same period, possibly in 1520 or the following year. The light of dawn is stealing over the landscape, driving away the darkness of night, well suggesting “the early morning, when it was yet dark.” On the right rises a great rock, with trees and bushes growing over it, and at its base the square opening of the tomb, from which issues a dim, supernatural light, making visible the two angels in white raiment seated at the head and foot of the grave. In the centre of the foreground stands Mary Magdalen, a look of wonder on her face, holding a marble vase of spikenard in her left hand, and the right stretched out towards the risen Christ, who shrinks back, both hands held up with a gesture of repulsion, as he exclaims, “Touch Me not.” Mary’s head is bound with a turban, and a dark cloak almost covers her dress. This figure is reminiscent of an Italian model. In the distance are seen the small figures of Peter and John, hastening away from the empty sepulchre to spread the news of the Resurrection. Peter, still doubting his eyes, is eagerly gesticulating as he strides over the ground, while John, who “saw and believed,” walks more calmly by his side. Behind them rises a tall tree into the dim morning sky, of the pyramidal shape so familiar in Italian paintings of the period, while in the background the breaking dawn lights the crosses on Calvary. It is, as Knackfuss says, “a wonderful masterpiece of poetical painting.”[217]
The face of Our Lord bears a strong resemblance to that of the Christ in the “Christ before the High Priest” subject in the Basel altar-piece. Indeed, both in treatment and feeling, there is a close resemblance between these two works. The landscape in the Hampton Court picture has much in common with that of “Christ on the Mount of Olives” and of “The Entombment” of the altar-painting. In the latter, too, is to be found the same bush-grown rock of yellow colour, with the square opening of the sepulchre, while in each picture the light and shade and colouring are much alike.
“NOLI ME TANGERE”
Christ appearing to Mary Magdalen
Hampton Court
When attention was first called to this work some forty years ago, critics were divided in their opinions as to its authorship. Dr. Woltmann ascribed it to Bartholomäus Bruyn, and several other names in place of Holbein’s have been suggested from time to time. His latest English biographer, Mr. Gerald Davies, assigns it to “a painter of the German school, who had probably seen and been deeply influenced by the grave and earnest works of Holbein at Basel.” “Neither on the grounds of its design nor of its technique,” he says, “do I find myself able to accept it as a work of Holbein,” and he proceeds to draw attention to “the angular and uncouth projection of the forward leg in the figure of our Lord, an exaggeration which is repeated with even more unnatural emphasis in the distant figure of St. Peter as he walks and gesticulates at the side of St. John. The action, moreover, of the hands of the chief figure, intended to be expressive of the “Noli Me Tangere,” is somewhat exaggerated and theatrical.”[218] He calls attention to other details which he thinks prove that the work cannot be from Holbein’s brush. The type of the head, however, and the action of the hands, as well as the position of the feet, very closely resemble more than one of Holbein’s small figures in his designs for woodcuts, more particularly the Christ in one of the little pictures on the frontispiece to Coverdale’s Bible, in which the action is almost identical, while other instances could be given. The picture has suffered in the course of time, and, like the Basel altar-piece, has not escaped repainting in parts, but remains nevertheless an undoubted example of Holbein’s sacred art at, or shortly after, the period when he had just settled down in Basel as a member of the Guild “zum Himmel.” Modern German criticism is agreed as to its authorship. Dr. Ganz places it at the end of Holbein’s first visit to England.
This picture has been in the royal collections of England since the reign of Henry VIII, and in the inventory of his pictures at Whitehall, taken at his death in 1547, it was entered as “Item, a table with the picture of our Lord appearing to Mary Magdalen” (No. 33), while it occurs again in that of James II (No. 520), “Our Saviour appearing to Mary Magdalen in the garden.” That in those early days the picture was regarded as a work of Holbein’s is proved by an entry in Evelyn’s Diary, under the date September 2, 1680, describing several days spent by him in the examination of the contents of the library and private rooms at Whitehall during the absence of Charles II at Windsor. He says: “In the rest of the private lodgings contiguous to this (i.e. the library), are divers of the best pictures of the great masters, Raphael, Titian, &c., and, in my esteeme, above all, the Noli me tangere of our blessed Saviour to Mary Magdalen after his Resurrection, of Hans Holbein, then which I never saw so much reverence and kind of heavenly astonishment express’d in a picture.” Nothing is known of its earlier history, or how it came to England, but it is not unnatural to suppose that it was brought over by Holbein himself, as an easily portable example of his powers as a painter of sacred subjects. It is doubly valuable as being the only work by him of this particular class now remaining in this country. On the other hand, it is quite possible that it was painted in England in 1527 for one of his new patrons. Mr. Ernest Law points out that there is a rendering of this same subject by Lambert Sustris, a German painter, and pupil of Christopher Schwartz of Munich, who flourished about the end of the sixteenth century. This last-named work, both in the figure of Christ, and in several other points, bears a close resemblance to the Hampton Court picture, to which, indeed, it may have owed its inspiration.[219]
Holbein’s rapidly-maturing mastery of technique and power in expressing the most poignant emotion, as well as his complete understanding of the architecture of the Renaissance and skill in making brilliant use of it as a setting for his figures, is shown in two panels in the Basel Gallery, which at one time evidently formed a small diptych such as would be used in some household chapel. They represent “Christ as the Man of Sorrows” and “Mary as Mater Dolorosa” (No. 317) (Pl. 33),[220] and are carried out in a brown monochrome, with the exception of the sky seen through the arches, which is a bright blue, the two contrasted tones producing a very harmonious colour effect. In each panel the background consists of an elaborate arrangement of pillars, arches, and vaulting, richly carved and decorated with panels, friezes, and medallions of ornament, which recall the very similar fantastic details of Renaissance architecture in the left wing of the Freiburg altar-piece, and more than one of his designs for painted glass of this period.[221] In the “Mater Dolorosa” one of the friezes represents a band of small naked putti, which, according to Dr. Kœgler, is based upon a similar frieze in the cathedral of Como,[222] while other figure subjects are contained in the medallions; in the “Man of Sorrows” the decoration is entirely of floriated ornament. The general effect produced is one of great richness, almost superabundance, of ornamentation, and lavishness of architectural detail. In spite of this, the two figures are not overwhelmed by it, but at once arrest the attention. Christ is seated on the steps between two pillars, nude, with the exception of a loin-cloth, crowned with thorns, his head sinking in agony on his left shoulder. Mary, a veil over her head, and the folds of her robes falling in straight parallel lines, kneels with open, outstretched hands, and gazes with grief-stricken countenance at the Saviour’s sufferings. Very reverent feeling is shown in the conception of each figure. The nude form of Christ indicates a very accurate study of the human body, while the expression of pain and intense sorrow has been admirably seized. The solitude of this grief-stricken figure is intensified by the grandeur and richness of the building in which he is seated, deserted by all men. An equally fine conception of deep though restrained sorrow is shown in the face of the Virgin, and in the beautiful, expressive hands. A peculiarity of this diptych is that the horizon is placed below the level of the picture, although it is so small that it can never have been intended for hanging at a considerable height, such as the arrangement of the horizon-line would suggest. It may be, therefore, that it is the preliminary study for some larger wall-painting, finished with unusual care, or a reduced copy made by Holbein from some altar-piece of his which has now disappeared, probably during the disturbances of 1529. It forms part of the Amerbach Collection, and is described in the catalogue as: “Item zwei H. Holbeins mit olfarb gmalte täfelin darin Christus vnd Maria in eim ghüs, mit steinfarb.”