CHRIST, THE MAN OF SORROWS
Diptych, painted in brown monochrome, with blue sky
Basel Gallery
MARY, MATER DOLOROSA
Diptych, painted in brown monochrome, with blue sky
Basel Gallery
There is a drawing in the Basel Gallery representing the “Holy Family” (Pl. 34),[223] which is remarkable for the rich setting of Renaissance architecture in which Holbein has placed his figures. The arrangement is so elaborate that the latter at first appear to be of only secondary importance. On the topmost of a flight of steps the Infant Christ is learning to walk, his hands held by his mother and Anna, who are seated on either side of him. On the left the aged Joachim, whose pronounced features recall more than one head in the earlier “Passion” series, is looking on from behind a pillar, while Joseph stands with his arm round another pillar on the opposite side. Behind the group is a semicircular niche, the upper part scalloped like a shell, supported by columns and outstanding pillars, the latter with a sculptured frieze of putti round the base. The capitals of the columns and the frieze which they support are decorated with foliated designs in which figures are mingled. A lunette in the arch which crowns the niche is ornamented in a similar way, and contains a tablet with the signature “Hans Hol.” Over a projecting cornice is a sculptured figure of Samson slaying the lion. The architectural motive throughout is strongly Italian, and, indeed, in parts bears a striking resemblance to the Porta della Rana of the cathedral of Como,[224] while the whole drawing furnishes still further strong evidence that Holbein must have crossed the Alps, and that designs such as this were not mere efforts of his imagination. It is a pen drawing on a brown-red ground, washed with grey-black and heightened with white in the parts where the light falls, and its date is about 1520 or 1521. It is a study for a picture, or, more probably, for a wall-painting, to be placed at some height, as the horizon-line is well below the level of the ground. The strongly-marked perspective of the background, too, which slants rapidly towards the right, suggests such a purpose, and that it was to form the left wing of some considerable scheme of wall decoration, with a more important central subject, and a corresponding right wing. A smaller drawing, also at Basel, of the same date and style, a pen and wash drawing, heightened with white on a grey ground, represents the Virgin, seated on a similar high step between two pillars, suckling the Child.[225] With the exception of the two columns, one of which is unfinished, the background is left blank, but in the painting for which it was a study it is natural to suppose that the architectural setting would have been as elaborate as in the “Holy Family,” which it resembles in its low horizon-line.
THE HOLY FAMILY
Washed drawing on a red ground
Basel Gallery
There is a third drawing, in the Städtisches Museum, Leipzig, which belongs to the same period as the two just described, and has many points in common with them.[226] It is a pen drawing heightened with white on a dark grey ground, and represents the Madonna seated on a stone bench over which her cloak is spread, supporting the Infant Christ in his first attempts to walk. The Child, with one arm and leg uplifted, is laughing with delight, and the attitude of the Virgin, with head bent down, and her long hair blown on one side as though by a breeze, is one of great beauty. In this arrangement of the hair, though more free, and in the type of the Madonna’s face, though more beautiful, this drawing bears a close resemblance to the more elaborate of the two in the Amerbach Collection. It is signed and dated “H. H.” and “1519” on two panels on either side of the carpet or pavement beneath the Virgin’s feet, and was possibly made shortly after Holbein’s return from Lucerne to Basel. It is a most sympathetic and natural study of maternal love and the happiness of childhood, and has a grace and charm which the two other drawings, made at about the same date, do not possess in the same degree.[227]
After the early “Cross-Bearing” panel of 1515 at Karlsruhe, there is no dated picture among this group of sacred paintings until the “Dead Christ in the Tomb,” in the Basel Gallery (No. 318), of the year 1521, is reached (Pl. 35).[228] This remarkable work, which forms part of the Amerbach Collection, is a life-size study of a dead man, and one whose end has, perhaps, been brought about by violence. Holbein has painted the corpse upon a long, low panel, and has represented it as lying enclosed within the narrow confines of a tomb of plain marble of a greenish hue, the side facing the spectator being removed in order to permit a view of the interior. The body, which almost fills the narrow space, rests on its back on a plain white cloth, over which the long dark hair falls. The head is seen almost in profile, but very slightly turned towards the front, the short brown beard pointing directly upwards. The light comes from some small aperture low down at the foot of the tomb, and falls on the soles of the feet, and illuminates the lower side of each prominent feature of the body, such as the under parts of the chin, the white swollen lips of the open mouth, the nose, and the eyebrows, leaving other portions in shadow, and thus intensifying the feeling of horror which the picture at first produces. It shows that Holbein, at the age of twenty-four, had attained a complete mastery of technical expression, for it is painful in the completeness of its realism. The rigidity of the limbs, the haggard cheeks with strongly-projecting bones, the staring, half-sunken eyes, the lifeless skin, the colourless face with bloodless lips, the emaciated body with its ribs standing out, have all been set down with relentless accuracy. The indication of decay in the hands and feet, and in the flesh turning green round the wounds in the side, helps to intensify the terror and horror of death which the picture is intended to depict. It was evidently painted from some dead body, how obtained it is impossible to say, but, according to an old tradition, his model was the corpse of a man just taken out of the Rhine by the Rhine Bridge. Holbein’s object in painting it was undoubtedly to give as complete a rendering as possible of the physical aspects of death as seen in a body approaching decay. It is hardly to be believed that it was his original intention to paint a picture of the “Dead Christ,” and that for the purpose he made search in Basel for a corpse to serve as his model. It is much more natural to suppose that, having painted this vividly realistic study, which no patron was likely to purchase, he made it of marketable value by adding the wounds and the title, and so turning it into a “Christ in the Tomb.” This is borne out by Basilius Amerbach’s entry in his inventory. He calls it “A picture of a dead man, with the title Jesus of Nazareth” (“Ein todten bild H. Holbeins vf holtz mit ölfarben cum titulo Iesus Nazarenus rex”). This Latin title, in large gold Roman letters, runs across a long strip at the top of the picture, a part of the old frame, and between each word is placed a small angel bearing the instruments of Christ’s torture. It is from this superscription, and from the stigmata, that the work receives its only sacred significance; in all other respects it is a remorseless, almost revolting, study of some man who has died a violent death, a man with features of no physical beauty, and in no way resembling Holbein’s customary type of the Christ. There is nothing of the dignity or the supernatural beauty which so often irradiate the inanimate countenance shortly after life has passed away; but, regarded as a work of art, the picture is in the highest sense one of great beauty by reason of the mastery of its technical achievement, the knowledge it displays of the human body, its absolute truth to nature, and the harmony of its colouring. The contrast of the warm olive green of the sarcophagus with the pale grey tones of the flesh produces an admirable effect. On a darker slab at the feet is the inscription “MDXXI. H.H.” A further touch of realism is shown in the large crack in the marble at the back of this slab.
Possibly this picture found a place in one of the Basel churches; it has been suggested by Woltmann[229] that it once formed the predella to some altar-piece representing Christ’s Passion, and this, no doubt, is correct, though for the reasons given above it does not seem likely that the artist originally painted it for that purpose.
THE DEAD CHRIST IN THE TOMB
Predella of an Altar-piece
1521
Basel Gallery
This “Dead Christ” remains an isolated example among the many varied sides of Holbein’s art. In the following year, in the “Solothurn Madonna” (Pl. 36)[230] he combines truth in the delineation of the human figure with physical and spiritual beauty, and reaches great dignity and nobility in his conception of character. This picture, with the exception of the “Meyer Madonna,” is the most important and beautiful altar-panel from Holbein’s brush that has survived, though by no means in its original condition.
The composition consists of only four figures. The Virgin is seated in the centre, upon a small platform covered with a carpet, holding the Infant Christ on her lap, and, standing on either side, are St. Nicholas,[231] and St. Ursus, the patron saint of Solothurn. The Virgin is clad in a light-red robe, and over it a bright-blue sleeveless mantle, fastened round the neck with a cord, which hangs in somewhat straight and simple folds and spreads over the carpet at her feet, an ample garment wide enough to cover all who seek her protection. Her golden hair falls upon both shoulders, the upper part of the head being covered with a veil of thin, transparent gauze, surmounted by a golden crown of very decorative design studded with precious stones. She holds the nude Child upon her knees, her right hand grasping one chubby little leg, while the other is placed under his left arm. The head is perhaps the most attractive and sympathetic of all Holbein’s representations of the Madonna. There is a sweetness, modesty, and purity in its expression, and a quiet dignity which personify in the happiest manner the beauty of divine motherhood, and betray stronger evidences than had hitherto appeared in his work of the marked effect of his study of the paintings of contemporary Italian artists. The face is round and full, and of the German type, and in its features by no means one of ideal loveliness, but the happy and tender smile which hovers on the lips, and the deep maternal love which shines in the eyes, give to it a very real and arresting beauty of its own. The plump, round-headed Child is a delightful study from real life. The foreshortening of the little feet, with their crinkled-up toes and the delicately-traced folds in the skin, is admirable, and the small fat hands, one of which is turned away from the body with the palm upwards, a characteristic attitude with small children, are full of expression. The right hand is held as though in the act of benediction.
St. Ursus, the patron saint of the church, and one of the martyrs of the Theban Legion, stands on the spectator’s right, a noble and dignified figure, clad from head to foot in plate armour of a fashion still worn in Holbein’s day. His helmet is decorated with ostrich feathers, and one gauntleted hand grasps the hilt of his great sword, while with the other he holds the banner of the Legion, a large red flag with a white cross, which reaches almost to the top of the picture. He appears a true soldier of the Church, with his dignified and martial bearing, his keen eye and determined mouth, half hidden by the dark moustache, each hair of which has been carefully drawn in the manner which Holbein practised in portraiture throughout his life. The colours of the flag are reflected in the highly-polished surface of his armour. On the opposite side stands St. Nicholas, the patron saint of the poor. He is dressed in ecclesiastical vestments of great splendour, which have evidently been copied by the painter from some existing example, dating from an earlier period than that of the painting. Over his violet chasuble are rich embroideries in gold and colours, with representations of the Centurion of Capernaum before Christ, the Saviour before Caiaphas, and the Crowning with Thorns. The red mitre is embroidered with gold and pearls, and, as recently pointed out by Dr. Ganz,[232] the figure of St. Nicholas himself, with his attributes, a book and three golden balls. In his left hand he holds his pastoral staff, and with the other drops alms into a bowl held up by a kneeling beggar at his feet. The beardless face is refined and delicate, and its spiritual character is in marked contrast to the vigorous and manly expression of the knightly saint who stands facing him. Only the uplifted face of the beggar, and the one hand which holds the alms-bowl, are shown. He appears as one of the attributes of the saint, and the artist has only indicated enough of his form to make this clear; otherwise he is almost entirely concealed behind the Virgin’s voluminous mantle. There is nothing here of the painful realism of poverty and disease such as is shown in the kneeling figures in the “St. Elizabeth of Hungary” wing of the “St. Sebastian” altar-piece of the elder Holbein at Munich, or in the son’s earlier Passion pictures in Basel.
THE VIRGIN AND CHILD, WITH ST. URSUS AND A HOLY BISHOP
1522
Solothurn Gallery
Holbein’s art had reached a point in its development when such realistic methods of bringing home to the spectator the lessons his pictures were intended to convey were discarded.
A peculiarity of the picture is the exceedingly simple setting in which the figures are placed; whereas Holbein’s usual practice at this period of his life was to make an almost lavish use of architectural ornamentation in his backgrounds. In the “Solothurn Madonna” it consists of a perfectly plain round archway of stone, quite free from sculptured decoration, across which two thick iron bars are placed, fixed into the stonework as though to strengthen it, with upright cross bars running to the crown of the arch. It has been suggested that the vaulting of the church for which the picture was intended was supported and strengthened in the same way, and that Holbein introduced it into his altar-piece in order that it might be in perfect harmony with its surroundings; but the motive appears in more than one of the backgrounds to Ferrari’s pictures, such as the “Flagellation,” one of the great series of frescoes in the church of S. M. delle Grazie, at Varallo,[233] finished in 1513. Through this open archway a pale-blue sky is seen, against which the Virgin’s crown stands out. The light increases in brightness as it nears the Madonna’s head, thus forming a natural halo. This simplicity of treatment is also to be observed in other details. The Virgin is not seated upon an elaborate throne, but on some low seat or stool which cannot be seen. The carpet at her feet, covering the stone step, is green, with a geometrical diamond pattern in white and red, and two shields inset containing the arms of the donor and his wife,[234] which are partly hidden and protected by the Virgin’s cloak. Below St. Ursus the monogram “H. H.” and the date “1522” are painted as though cut in the stone step.
The Virgin and the Infant Christ in this picture appear to be idealised portraits of Holbein’s wife and first-born child. All available evidence indicates either 1520 or 1521 as the date of his marriage, shortly before or after he became a citizen of Basel, so that his own child may well have served him as his model. Hans Bock the elder, the artist who was employed by the Basel Council to renovate Holbein’s wall-paintings in the Town Hall, made a free copy of the figure of the Child in this picture when he was in Solothurn in 1604 or the following year, and depicted him with a serpent as the conqueror of sin.[235] This copy, now in the Basel Gallery (No. 91), belonged to Amerbach, and was entered in the catalogue as “A naked child sitting on a serpent, a copy of a painting by Holbein, exactly copied in the greater part by H. Bock on wood in oil colours.”[236] Woltmann describes a drawing of the same child’s head, almost in profile, with the mother’s hand supporting it under the left shoulder, as in the picture, in the Weigel Collection, Leipzig, a silver-point drawing, signed and dated, “Hans Holbein, 1522.”[237] It has the same large, rather round head, short neck, and high forehead, as in the painting, and it was probably a preliminary sketch for it.[238]
PORTRAIT OF A YOUNG WOMAN, POSSIBLY HOLBEIN’S WIFE
Royal Picture Gallery, Mauritshuis, The Hague
In the head of the Madonna, although Holbein has idealised and spiritualised his model, can be traced the predominant features of his wife as shown in the portrait he painted of her with their two children some seven years later, after his return from England to Basel in 1528, though the face in the latter painting has become coarsened and bears the marks of care and even sorrow, and has little in common with the beautiful Solothurn head. The latter more closely resembles the very fine portrait of a young woman in the Hague Gallery (No. 275) (Pl. 37),[239] which is now regarded by some critics as a likeness of Holbein’s wife, painted just before or immediately after he married her, in the earliest part of his second Basel period. This picture is one of the strayed waifs from the royal collections of England, for it is branded on the back with the crown and “C.R.,” which denote that it was once in the possession of Charles I, in whose catalogue it was attributed to Leonardo da Vinci. It appears afterwards to have been in the Arundel Collection, and is most probably the portrait described in the 1655 inventory as “ritratto della Moglie de Holbein,” which, after the death of the Countess of Arundel, must have been sold in Amsterdam, and purchased by some Dutch collector. It fetched 65 florins at the Joan de Vries sale in 1738, and was afterwards in the G. van Slingelandt and the William V of Orange collections. It is evidently not one of the pictures taken over to Holland by William III during one of his visits to the Hague, as has been suggested, for there is nothing to show that it ever returned to the English royal collections, nor is it included in the list of works unsuccessfully reclaimed by Queen Anne from the Dutch States when she ascended the throne. Holbein’s authorship of this work has been frequently disputed, some writers regarding it as a good old copy after a lost original by the master, while others look upon it as a fine original work by some Netherlandish contemporary of Holbein’s who was strongly under his influence. Dr. Woltmann considered it to be most probably by Holbein himself, and others have followed him in this opinion. Dr. Ganz, in his recent book, includes it among the genuine works of the second Basel period, and points out that the soft, tender colour-scheme in which it has been carried out was the result of Holbein’s recent visit to Italy, and explains its earlier attribution to Leonardo.[240] When allowance is made for the passage of time, and the troubles and cares which are supposed to have embittered Elsbeth Holbein’s life, there is considerable likeness between this portrait of a comely young haus-frau and the wife in the portrait of 1528-9. This is particularly to be noticed in the heavy-lidded, slightly-protruding eyes, much more pronounced in the later picture, while the general shape of the head and form of the features are alike in both. The likeness, however, is not so striking as to make it absolutely certain that in the Hague picture we have a portrait of Holbein’s bride. The work is without inscription. She is represented seated, with her crossed hands resting upon her white apron. Her hair is completely covered by a white gauze veil which is carried under the chin, and her gown, edged and lined with fur, is open at the front, showing the plain white, high-necked bodice below. Whether by Holbein or not—and it is difficult to see who else could have painted it—this picture has great charm. A recent writer[241] speaks of this picture as leaving a vivid and permanent impression on the spectator, by reason of the luminous freshness of its colour, the delicate perfume of its purity, and the exquisite, limpid sweetness which exhales from it as from a white rose under a blue sky in spring-time.
In the Louvre there is a silver-point drawing, touched with Indian ink and red crayon, of the head and shoulders of a young woman (Pl. 38),[242] which bears considerable likeness both to the Solothurn Madonna and to the portrait of 1528-9. She is represented almost full face, with eyes cast down, and her straight hair falling in two large plaits down her back. She wears a necklace with a pendant circular medallion with the Cross of St. Anthony, and across the border of her bodice, which is cut low and straight, runs the device “ALS.IN.ERN.ALS.IN ...” (“In All Honour”).[243] The same heavily-lidded eyes, prominent nose, well-chiselled mouth with its full lips, double chin, and slope of the shoulders, occur both in this drawing and in the Solothurn altar-piece, and are even more strongly marked in the later portrait-group, though in this earlier study the features as yet bear few traces of the trials and experiences of life, but still retain much of their youthful bloom and freshness, and gain a certain beauty from the happy smile which lights them up.
HEAD OF A YOUNG WOMAN
(Probably Holbein’s wife)
Study for the Solothurn “Madonna”
Silver-point drawing, touched with red
Louvre, Paris
All writers, however, are not agreed in seeing in the Louvre drawing and in the Solothurn Madonna an idealised portrait of Holbein’s wife. Those who hold the contrary view regard it as almost impossible that so great a change as that to be noted between the fair and youthful face of the Madonna and that of the sad and careworn, elderly wife of the family group could have taken place in the space of seven years. Mr. Gerald Davies, who fails to see the likeness, regards the Louvre drawing as the work, not of Holbein, but of his father, in which case it cannot be a portrait of Holbein’s wife,[244] unless the elder painter spent some time in Basel with his two sons, towards the end of his life, as stated by earlier writers, of which there is no documentary record. It is, however, impossible to agree with this writer in his ascription of this drawing to Hans Holbein the Elder. Mrs. Fortescue, in her recent book on the painter, weaves a romance around the Louvre drawing which has nothing to support it but imagination. Her theory is that Holbein became enamoured of his future wife shortly after his arrival in Basel, and that he then made this drawing, the fashion of the hair showing that she was still unmarried. The course of true love, however, did not run smoothly, and the consequent disappointment was the real reason of his “otherwise inexplicable” departure for Lucerne in 1517. During his two years’ absence Elsbeth married the tanner Schmid, who not long afterwards died, leaving her free to become the painter’s wife when he renewed his suit shortly after his return to Basel. This is a pretty little story, but there is not the slightest evidence to be found in support of it.[245] On the other hand, Woltmann and Dr. Ganz are no doubt correct in regarding the Louvre drawing as the actual first study for the Solothurn Madonna.
The picture was commissioned by Hans Gerster, town archivist of Basel, who was not a native of that city, but whose wife, Barbara Guldenknopf, was a member of a local family. Among Gerster’s official duties was that of conducting negotiations with the councils of neighbouring towns, and, after Basel had entered the Swiss confederation in 1501, one of the places to which his official duties frequently took him was Solothurn. There he became a close friend of the Coadjutor Nikolaus von Diesbach, dean of Solothurn Minster, whom he made his spiritual adviser. Circumstances seem to indicate that in 1522 Gerster was under some suspicion as to illegal dealings in the Imperial interests, which eventually brought about his dismissal from office, at about the same time as the fall of that other early patron of Holbein, Jakob Meyer, who lost his seat in the Council through similar causes. It has been suggested, therefore, that the picture was ordered for the Solothurn Minster on the advice of the Coadjutor, in expiation of Gerster’s irregular conduct. For the same reason, according to those who hold that the saintly figure on the left represents the Bishop of Tours, St. Martin was chosen as the particular saint to whom all sinners made appeal, and was introduced as intercessor for the donor, while the kneeling beggar may even be a portrait of the archivist himself. The chasuble the saint wears is the one specially prescribed for this office, while the figure of St. Nicholas on the mitre may have been placed there in order to associate the donor’s friend, Nikolaus von Diesbach, with the intercession. It is possible that the picture was a commission for the St. Nicholas Chapel of the Minster, founded in 1520, for the presence of St. Ursus, Solothurn’s patron saint, proves that it was intended for that place.[246] As the years went by, it suffered from neglect, and the name of the master who had painted it was forgotten, so that when, in 1648, this chapel was pulled down and rebuilt, the picture was regarded as of not sufficient value or beauty to be rehung over its altar. Between 1689 and 1717 it came into the possession of a certain Canon Hartmann, the Minster choirmaster, who in 1683 built and endowed the little chapel of All Saints on the heights above Grenchen, to which he presented or bequeathed the picture. Here, again, it does not appear to have been regarded as a work of any particular importance, and the process of neglect and deterioration continued; and when, in 1864, it was rediscovered by Herr Franz Anton Zetter of Solothurn, in the same small church, it was hanging high up on the wall of the choir, blackened with the smoke of more than two hundred years, its panels worm-eaten, without a frame, and suspended by a cord through two holes which had been bored into the picture itself. Although it was impossible to examine it closely, Herr Zetter was struck with its beauty, still to be discerned through all the discoloration and damage, and when, shortly afterwards, he heard that the chapel was being renovated, he made anxious inquiries as to its fate. For some time all search for it proved unavailing, but in the end it was found, face downward, and splashed all over with whitewash, under the boards which formed the workmen’s platform. He was only just in time to save it from final destruction. Upon examination he discovered the signature, and feeling convinced, in spite of scepticism on the part of others whom he consulted, that it was a genuine work of the master’s, he purchased it. It was placed in the hands of Eigner, the keeper of the Augsburg Gallery, for restoration, the work occupying three years. The state of the picture was so bad that restoration was essential, and this, on the whole, was well done, though it suffered to some extent during the process. There is, however, a seventeenth-century copy of the picture in existence, which shows that the restorer substituted yellow for red in the Virgin’s right sleeve, which does not harmonise with Holbein’s original colour-scheme. Herr Zetter presented the picture to the Gallery of his native town, where it now occupies the place of honour, so that, thanks to his acumen and enthusiasm, one of Holbein’s finest achievements in sacred painting has been saved from oblivion.[247]
In composition the Solothurn Madonna bears close resemblance to a large woodcut, designed by Holbein, on the back of the title-page of the Statute Book or Town Laws of Freiburg-im-Breisgau.[248] This book, The Municipal Laws and Statutes of the Praiseworthy Town of Freiburg, by Ulrich Zasius, was published in Basel by Adam Petri in 1520. The Virgin is seated enthroned in front of a niche of Renaissance design. In her attitude, and the way in which she holds the Child on her knees, as well as in her dress and her long hair falling on her shoulders, there is considerable likeness to the altar-piece, as also in the two figures of the patron saints of Freiburg who stand on either side of her, St. George, with one hand resting on his shield and a flag held aloft in the other, and clad, like St. Ursus, in complete armour, and Bishop Lambert, in rich ecclesiastical dress, and holding the crozier, as St. Nicholas does in the Solothurn picture. The similarity between the two designs is particularly close in the position and movement of the arms and hands of the Infant Christ. The woodcut, which is signed “H. H.” on the edge of the step on the left, and dated 1519, is richly and grandly designed, the figures of the two saints having been conceived with great nobility, and it is possible that Holbein was so satisfied with its composition that he made use of it two years later when Gerster came to him for an altar-piece.[249]
Only one other picture bears Holbein’s signature and the date 1522. This is the full-length representation of “St. Ursula,”[250] which with its companion, “St. George,” is in the Karlsruhe Gallery. They evidently formed the wings of an altar-piece, the central panel of which is missing. St. Ursula, who carries a number of long arrows in her arms, symbols of her martyrdom, is clad in the fashion of the rich citizen’s wife of Holbein’s day, as seen in the set of his costume studies in the Basel Gallery, and wears a golden crown and a nimbus with a band of Renaissance ornamentation. Behind her, the branches of a fig-tree stand out against the blue sky, and low down on the horizon is a landscape with a tower. Her necklace, with an openwork medallion containing the cross of St. Anthony, closely resembles the one in the Louvre sketch of Holbein’s wife as a young woman. In the companion panel, St. George,[251] with his flag grasped in his left hand, stands over the prostrate dragon, which he has transfixed with his spear. Here again the background consists chiefly of blue sky with a distant hilly landscape. The types of the two heads are not unlike the “Adam and Eve” study of 1517, while the St. Ursula also recalls the Solothurn Madonna, though the face is less idealised. It is possible that his wife also sat for this picture. The costume of St. George, who is crowned with a nimbus containing his name, is very similar to that of the Archangel Michael in the beautiful study in the Basel Gallery already described.[252] The “St. Ursula” is signed and dated “Hans Holbein MDXXII.”
These two panels have been renovated and retouched, and, in consequence, much of Holbein’s original brushwork has vanished. For this reason they have been regarded by some writers as merely works of the Holbein school. They are accepted as genuine, however, by such modern critics as Dr. Ganz and Herr Knackfuss, while Woltmann,[253] who speaks of the face and bust of St. Ursula as delicately finished in Holbein’s happiest manner, though the lower part of her figure and that of St. George are so inferior as to suggest a less skilful hand, conjectured that they were probably designed, and in part painted, by the master himself, and executed under his direction, but without very careful supervision. It has also been suggested that they were the result of a poorly-paid commission for some village church, and that Holbein, in consequence, did not take much trouble over them; but such a supposition has little probability, for Holbein was never satisfied with inferior work, but always gave of his best, both in great things and small. Mr. Gerald Davies refuses to accept “these weak and slightly affected figures” as possible work of the painter who in the same year produced so great a picture as the Solothurn Madonna.[254] There can be little doubt however, that, though damaged, they are from the hand of the master himself.
The two large paintings in monochrome on canvas, for the decoration of the inner sides of the doors of the case which covered in the organ in the Minster of Basel when it was not in use, must not be omitted in any consideration of Holbein’s work for church decoration.[255] They survived the iconoclastic outbreak of 1529; possibly the mob did not regard them as religious paintings, or they may have escaped owing to their position high up on the wall of the nave, and so not easily reached. Merian mentions them in his Topographia Helvetiæ, published in 1622,[256] and in 1775 Emanuel Büchel made a water-colour drawing of them in their original position,[257] for his collection of the monuments, sculptures, and paintings in Basel Minster, from which drawing it is to be seen that they decorated the upper part of the organ. The organ-case was of wood, richly carved in the style of the early Renaissance, and Holbein’s decorations were painted in brown monochrome in order to produce the effect of similar carving, as though they formed an integral part of the case itself. The organ was restored in 1639, when the doors were repainted by Sixt Ringle, and in 1786 it was replaced by a new one, Holbein’s decorations and some of the old carved woodwork being deposited in the Public Library. The doors suffered a second “restoration” in 1842, and in the following year were removed to the Basel Picture Gallery (No. 321).[258] Quite recently much of the over-painting has been removed, and it is possible to obtain a good idea of the noble and decorative effect they must have produced when fresh from Holbein’s brush and in the position intended for them. In spite of this careful renovation, however, the damage done to them in earlier days was so severe that much of their original beauty has vanished. The figures are larger than life-size, and produce the effect of carved wood statues. Happily, the original study for them, a very beautiful and powerful pen-drawing washed with brown-black Indian ink, is to be found among the drawings in the Amerbach Collection (Pl. 39).[259] The design is on six vertical strips of paper fastened together. The peculiar shape of the doors necessitated considerable ingenuity on the part of the artist in the arrangement of his material, and he succeeded admirably in adapting the spaces to his purpose. Each door is in three divisions, the innermost being the highest. In the left-hand shutter this inmost space contains the figure of the Emperor Henry II, founder of Basel Minster. In the shorter, outer division stands his wife, Kunigunde, and between them is a representation of the Minster itself. On the right-hand wing the Virgin and Child stand facing the Emperor, and in the outer division, St. Pantalus, the first Bishop of Basel; between them is a group of small nude singing and playing angels. The spaces above the heads of the Emperor and the Virgin, and the other spaces, triangular in shape, over the central part of each wing, are filled in with Renaissance ornamentation. The four large figures are designed with great nobility, and are very impressive in effect. The horizon lies below the level of the ground, on account of the height at which the doors were to be hung, a frequent practice of Holbein’s in his wall-paintings, and an observance of the laws of vision probably brought home to him by his study of Mantegna’s works. For this reason the figures are represented as seen from below in effective perspective foreshortening.
DESIGN FOR THE ORGAN DOORS, BASEL CATHEDRAL
Pen and wash drawing
Basel Gallery
The Emperor, with long beard, is shown in profile, crowned, and wearing a royal mantle, a sceptre in his left hand. His Empress, also crowned, carries a large cross in her hands, and stands in the curious Basel manner of those days, with the body thrust forward, and the back bent, as in Holbein’s costume studies referred to in a later chapter.[260] The figure of the Virgin is nobly conceived. The Child flings his little arms round her neck, and presses his cheek against hers, while she clasps him closely to her breast with both hands. In carrying out the design, Holbein made one or two slight changes in the position of the Child. In the finished painting the right arm is not flung round the Virgin’s neck, but, instead, the hand rests in the bend of her elbow, while their cheeks no longer touch. St. Pantalus, in full ecclesiastical robes and mitre, holds his crozier in his left hand and stretches out the right, as though speaking. The group of small child-angels, three of whom blow trumpets, while four others hold a sheet of music from which they are singing, is a design of the greatest charm, the figures being excellently grouped, and drawn with the utmost freedom. They are sturdy little boys, with curly hair and small wings. One of the singers beats time with a stick, and another does so with his hand. In the finished picture this sheet of music is inscribed with the words from the “Song of Solomon”—“Quam pulchra es amica.” The corresponding division of the left wing, representing the exterior of the Minster, is just as free and masterly a study, and the Renaissance ornament which is so cleverly adapted to the remaining spaces is in the finest taste. This decorative filling is not the same on both doors, and it is possible that the artist intended the church authorities to select whichever design they preferred. The one chosen was that on the right-hand door, though the design on the left-hand one with the figure of a nude child among the foliage, is the more beautiful of the two. The whole composition was admirably suited for the purpose for which it was intended, and when the doors were thrown open, and the organ itself was played, the effect produced must have been a fine one. The dignified conception of the four great figures was in perfect keeping with the deep and solemn tones of the organ which they decorated. Neither the doors themselves, nor the design, are dated, but the beauty of the composition and the brilliant and assured technique point to a period towards the end of Holbein’s second sojourn in Basel, about 1525, shortly before his departure for England, and they are thus of about the same date as the ten designs in Indian ink made for painted glass, representing scenes from Christ’s Passion. Among the monumental works of decorative painting undertaken by him during his second residence in Basel, these designs stand among the highest. The influences which were brought to bear upon his art during his sojourn in Italy find in them their fullest and most dignified expression, happily blended with and modified by those other influences, springing from his native soil, under which he was trained in his father’s studio.