Tree of Jesse Iconography in Northern Europe in the Fifteenth and Sixteenth Centuries

A large number of works which appear to appropriate Tree of Jesse iconography as a means of supporting or promoting the interests of different religious groups, have survived from the late medieval period. This chapter will consider these objects in some detail in an attempt to understand exactly how the function of the motif might have differed according to its use and location. Many of the works discussed are linked to the veneration of Saint Anne, and confraternities dedicated to the saint were a major source of patronage. During the late fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries a number of these were established in Germany by the Carmelite Order, and its monastery in Frankfurt became widely known as the headquarters of the Brotherhood of Saint Anne.¹ The first works to be examined here are the wing panels of an altarpiece believed to have been commissioned on behalf of this Frankfurt Brotherhood. Although well documented, the full iconographic programme of these wings has never been properly considered in the context of a Tree of Jesse study. This will demonstrate exactly how the Carmelites deliberately invoked the Tree of Jesse to communicate their unique relationship with the matrilineal genealogy of Christ, drawing on a well-established motif in order to create a strong identity and communicate a sense of authority. It will also be argued that the altarpiece was subtly devised as a means of advertising the benefits of confraternity membership, necessitated by the competition between mendicant orders for secular donations and bequests. The fact that we are aware of the provenance of the Frankfurt altarpiece is somewhat exceptional, as the context of other works with similar iconography is less well documented. Nevertheless, it has been widely assumed that many of these works were also commissioned on behalf of Carmelite churches; this premise will be challenged. Instead, it will be suggested that other religious groups may have adopted the Carmelites’ very specific imagery as part of the wider story of the life of Saint Anne, and, therefore, that the iconography in this context had a different function.

The second part of the chapter will investigate how the Dominicans adopted Tree of Jesse iconography, and it will be suggested that in the case of the Frankfurt Dominicans, that this may have been in response to Carmelite endeavours in the city. It will also be shown that the Tree of Jesse may have been appropriated by religious orders to create or communicate a sense of communal identity, or in some cases it may have had a didactic function.² Finally, an examination of how the rosary was depicted within Tree of Jesse representations will demonstrate how these organisations had no compunction about borrowing iconographic attributes they thought might be attractive to a contemporary audience.

The Carmelites

The new form of Carmelite imagery to emerge in the Netherlands and Germany towards the end of the fifteenth century was to depend heavily on the viewer’s fundamental understanding of Tree of Jesse iconography. A Carmelite legend of a vision on Mount Carmel shared many characteristics with the prophecy of Isaiah, and by drawing on traditional Tree of Jesse representation, the Carmelites were able to reinforce the myth surrounding their claim to a special relationship with the Virgin and her mother Saint Anne.

The Carmelites rose to prominence in Europe in the thirteenth century, yet their origins were not in the West. Their name derives from Mount Carmel, a holy site in the Latin kingdom of Jerusalem, now Syria, which had been identified from the fourth century as the mountain from which the Old Testament prophet, Elijah, had brought down fire on the men of King Ochozias.3 The first Carmelites were a community of hermits who had established themselves on Mount Carmel, living a life of solitary contemplation in emulation of the anchoritic example set by their patron Elijah. Attacks on the kingdom of Jerusalem by the Saracens eventually forced many Carmelites to emigrate to the West, and by the mid-thirteenth century they were living in urban centres. Consequently, their contemplative life was replaced by an active one, similar to that of the other mendicant orders. Despite attempts to have the Order suppressed by the Council of Lyon in 1274, the Carmelites received papal approval in 1286, the year they also adopted their distinctive white mantle. Finally, in May 1298, they received official endorsement from Boniface VIII.

During this period the Carmelites had already established themselves in several towns and cities in Germany. Their first settlement appears to have been founded in 1259–60 in Cologne, closely followed by houses in Boppard and Frankfurt.⁴ By 1291 there were approximately fifteen houses in the upper Rhineland alone. By contrast, fewer houses were established in the Netherlands, although communities did exist in Brussels, Bruges, Mechelen and Haarlem in the thirteenth century, and new foundations continued to be established in both countries throughout the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries.⁵

Unlike the Dominicans and Franciscans, the Carmelites lacked a famous founder and, in order to help formulate their identity, they were keen to promote their claim to an ancient and distinguished heritage. This claim, one that went right back to Elijah, was disseminated in a series of short historical treatises from the end of the thirteenth century.⁶ Furthermore, the Order also alleged a special relationship with the Virgin, adopting the title fratres ordinis beatae Mariae de Monte Carmeli, which had been officially conferred by Pope Innocent IV in a papal bull of 1252. The number of Marian feasts celebrated by the Order increased significantly during the fourteenth century. In 1306, following Franciscan practice, the Carmelites celebrated the feast of the Conception of the Virgin; in 1342, Marian devotions were extended to include a daily mass to the Virgin.

As the mother of the Virgin, Saint Anne acquired a special status for the Carmelites, and from the late thirteenth century onwards her feast was celebrated by the Order on the 26th July.⁷ As we have seen in the previous chapter, texts dedicated to the life of Saint Anne spread rapidly throughout Germany and the Netherlands in the fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries. Among her many promoters were a number of distinguished humanist scholars, including the Carmelite Arnold Bostius from Ghent (1446–99).8 Although the Carmelite humanists numbered no more than twenty or so, Bostius’s influence, both directly and indirectly, on members of the Order and the larger humanist circle outside, was considerable.⁹ Bostius’s Speculum Historiale, written some time before 1491, wove together the story of the Order’s origins with the legend concerning a vision on Mount Carmel.¹⁰ According to this narrative, the first Carmelites, the devout hermits who lived on Mount Carmel, were regularly visited by a young girl, Emerentiana, the mother of Saint Anne. When her parents decided she was old enough to marry, Emerentiana went to the hermits for advice; they prayed for three days and were finally rewarded with a vision. In this vision they saw a beautiful tree with many branches, yet one branch was far more beautiful than all the others and bore an exquisite fruit, from which an even more beautiful flower bloomed. A celestial voice explained the vision to the hermits: the tree represented Emerentiana’s marriage, the one beautiful branch symbolised Emerentiana’s future daughter, Anne, whilst the fruit on the branch signified Anne’s future daughter, Mary, a virgin, who in turn would give birth to the flower, Christ. Parallels with Isaiah’s prophecy are obvious, yet Emerentiana has replaced Jesse as the root of the tree that ultimately produced the flower of Christ. Other contemporary texts further propagated this legend and, according to Ton Brandenbarg, some authors even referred to Emerentiana as the ‘root of Jesse’.¹¹ The other branches on the tree were meant to represent Emerentiana’s other descendants, who were to help promote and support the kingdom of God.¹²

The concept of the Virgin as a branch sanctified on the root of Jesse had been widespread among Carmelite theologians from as early as the fourteenth century, and John Baconthorpe (died c.1348) had summed up the notion in his maxim ‘virgo fuit concepta ex semine David sanctificato’ (the Virgin was conceived from the sanctified seed of David). This idea was expressed even more eloquently by the Carmelite theologian FitzRalph, in his sermon for the Feast of the Conception in 1342:

Most pious lady… I believe and acknowledge, since you, the most beautiful branch, gave birth to and brought forth the lasting flower from the root [of] Jesse, but through this, from you… by means of that flower we are liberated from the sin of original man.¹³

By 1369 a special Marian hymn, known as the Flos Carmeli (Flower of Carmel), had also become popular.¹⁴ In addition, the Tree of Jesse came to be associated with the life of Saint Anne in Carmelite liturgy. This is evident from a late fourteenth-century missal from the Carmelite convent in London (British Library, Add Ms.44892, fol.165r).¹⁵ The feast of the Conception of the Virgin is illustrated with scenes from the lives of Joachim and Anne, while the first verse of the prophecy of Isaiah, ‘egredietur virga de radice Jesse’, is used as the alleluia versicle of the grail of the Conception Mass. Given this established association, any visual representation of the vision on Mount Carmel was also likely to reference the Tree of Jesse, and it is unsurprising that the two themes became intertwined in Carmelite imagery.

A mendicant order incorporates individual and collective poverty into its rule and, consequently, is dependent on secular donations for its livelihood. A lucrative source of income in the late medieval period were the confraternities or brotherhoods that were linked to the monastery churches.¹⁶ These confraternities had several functions and played an important part in the religious life of towns and cities. Not only did they provide the opportunity for members to perform pious acts, thereby easing their journey into the next life, but also members believed that mutual benefits could be gained from the prayers and devotional activities of their fellow members. Furthermore, through regular meetings, confraternities provided a forum for social networks, allowing members the opportunity to make valuable contacts. Members would pay a subscription in return for the spiritual administration of their brotherhood, which included the saying of regular masses, celebration of special feast days and praying for the dead. Additional donations were made via indulgences and endowments, and members also commissioned works to decorate their chapels.17 Confraternities tended to adopt a holy patron and Saint Anne was a popular choice for many such organisations, particularly from the latter part of the fifteenth century. This appears to have been linked to a large extent to the activities of the Carmelites, who, having identified the economic potential of such brotherhoods, seem to have actively encouraged them. This has been corroborated by Angelika Döfler-Dierken, whose study of the emergence and spread of Saint Anne brotherhoods in Germany revealed how influential the Carmelites had been in their proliferation.¹⁸ In addition, she ascertained that few confraternities were established prior to 1479, but that their numbers grew rapidly after this period, reaching a peak between 1495 and 1515, when records show approximately 241 brotherhoods dedicated to Saint Anne. Döfler-Dierken’s findings have been supported by Virginia Nixon, who, when looking at the introduction of the cult of Saint Anne in Augsburg, discovered that the Carmelites’ financial problems in 1494 were a major factor in their decision to introduce their Saint Anne Brotherhood.¹⁹

The Frankfurt Brotherhood of Saint Anne

One of the most influential confraternities was established by the Carmelite Order in Worms and included among its members not only the bishops of Worms, Mainz, Trier and Cologne, but also the Emperor Maximilian.²⁰ Despite this, it was the Frankfurt confraternity that was to become the largest and most important.²¹ In 1479 the prior of the Frankfurt Carmelite monastery, Rumold von Laupach, applied to incorporate a confraternity of Saint Anne into the brotherhood of the Order, and its foundation followed in 1481.²² Formal consent was given by Pope Innocent VIII in 1491, although it was only officially ratified by the archbishop of Mainz in 1493.²³ This was also the year that the monastery acquired a fragment of Saint Anne’s arm from the Benedictine monastery in Lyon. A document from the church archive provides us with further details regarding the acquisition of this relic and suggests that the Frankfurt Brotherhood were able to obtain it with the help of merchants from the Netherlands.²⁴ Fur thermore, the document demonstrates how the concept of a genealogical tree of Saint Anne was a familiar metaphor in Carmelite circles. The author argues that the relic should be transferred to the Carmelite monastery because of the Carmelites’ special relationship with the female ancestors of Christ, and equates Saint Anne with a fruitful tree, ‘We judged it to be thus far most worthy… that fruitful tree that produced such abundant and healthy fruit’.

Laupach went to great efforts to promote his confraternity and commissioned Johannes Trithemius, the abbot of the Benedictine monastery at Sponheim, to write a eulogy in praise of Saint Anne. Trithemius’s De Laudibus sanctissime matris Anne was then followed by a text by Johannes Oudewater that discussed the history of the Order. This text, the Liber trimerestus de principio et processu ordinis carmelitici, also mentioned the Frankfurt Brotherhood of Saint Anne, thereby advertising the confraternity throughout the Rhineland and Saxony.25 Laupach was a central figure in both texts and consequently his confraternity grew very quickly; by 1497, membership had reached 4,000.²⁶ This is an astonishing number, particularly when we consider that the total population of Frankfurt at this date was only about 10,000.²⁷ Given the location of the Carmelite church, in the western part of Frankfurt near the trade area in the Römerberg district, it appears that membership numbers were swelled to a great extent by the large number of merchants who visited Frankfurt during the biannual trade fairs held in the spring and autumn. Saint Anne was a popular patron for merchants, as she was seen as a protector of those who undertook hazardous journeys, and several of her supposed miracles concern merchants and shipping.²⁸ In addition, a number of rich patrician families lived in the area between the Römerberg and the Carmelite monastery, and it seems that they too became members of the Brotherhood.²⁹ The huge success of the confraternity was clearly a concern for the local clergy, who were anxious that their income was being diverted. Trithemius, in De Laudibus sanctissime matris Anne, discusses this potential problem, but defends the Carmelites, stating that townspeople would turn to them only if they were not being taken care of properly by their own parish priests.³⁰

The Brotherhood of Saint Anne initially had to share a chapel in the Frankfurt Carmelite church with the Confraternity of Saint George. However, as their numbers grew this was no longer feasible and money was raised by its members to build a dedicated chapel. In 1489, the cardinal legate, Raimund Peraudi, granted a hundred-day indulgence for visits and donations for the construction of the chapel and, on the 3rd April 1494, a new chapel between the choir and transept, next to the sacristy, was consecrated by the archbishop of Mainz.³¹ The new Saint Anne chapel, with its important relic, was considered a significant religious site, and documents from the church archive record that the confraternity received further indulgences following the visits of various bishops.³² This was apparently followed by a visit from the main dignitaries of the Empire, including the Emperor Maximilian and his wife.³³

The new chapel required an altarpiece, and there is convincing documentary evidence to suggest that the sixteen panels from the wings from a large retable, now preserved in the Historische Museum in Frankfurt, originally came from this chapel (Figures 3.1 and 3.2). An official agreement which discusses mutual rights and duties, dated the 8th September, 1501, between the Brotherhood and the prior of the Carmelite monastery, Philip von Nuyß, makes reference to an altarpiece already situated in the chapel:³⁴ ‘Die kunstlich tafel vff dem altare in der selben capellen und ein monstrantzien zu sant Annen heyltum, alles vß der gemeynen bruderschafft und unser mithulffe… vff gericht’ (The retable from the altar in the same [Saint Anne] chapel and a monstrance containing Saint Anne’s relic, all the property of the brotherhood [with] our [the Frankfurt Carmelites] help).³⁵ Furthermore, in 1867, Phillip Friedrich Gwinner referred to eight panels, painted on both sides and subsequently separated, that featured the Legend of Saint Anne.³⁶ These he claimed were the wings of a late fifteenth century altarpiece from the Carmelite church, which came into the possession of the town of Frankfurt following the secularisation of church property in 1802–3. According to Koch, Laupach’s last will and testament also stated that the prior had honoured the parents of Saint Anne by means of a retable.³⁷ Although this document is now lost, it gives further support to the hypothesis that the wings were originally from an altarpiece in the monastery church. As Laupach died in 1496, we can assume that the panels must have been commissioned sometime before his death and may have even been in place by 1494.

Figure 3.1 Frankfurt Altarpiece of Saint Anne from the Carmelite Monastery, Interior Wings, Anonymous Flemish Master, c.1495

(Individual Panel Size: 91.5 × 52.5 cm) Historisches Museum, Frankfurt am Main (Photo: Horst Ziegenfusz)

The iconography of the wings provides a fascinating example of how the legend of Saint Anne was linked with the myth of the vision on Mount Carmel to produce a powerful piece of Carmelite propaganda, even though funds to pay for the work must have been raised by the lay confraternity.38 Each wing is comprised of eight panels, four on the interior and four on the exterior. The complexity of their icono-graphic programme clearly indicates the involvement of a Carmelite theologian or scholar, in all likelihood Rumold von Laupach himself. Although the museum currently attributes the wings to a Flemish master, whom Guy de Tervarent believed was perhaps a successor to Rogier van der Weyden, Gwinner attributed them to a lower German master, and there are stylistic similarities with Cologne painting of a similar period.³⁹ Unfortunately the middle section of the altarpiece is now lost, although it is assumed that it probably contained a carved shrine, possibly a representation of the Holy Kinship.

Figure 3.2 Frankfurt Altarpiece of Saint Anne From the Carmelite Monastery, Exterior Wings, Anonymous Flemish Master, c.1495

(Individual Panel Size: 91.5 × 52.5 cm) Historisches Museum, Frankfurt am Main (Photo: Horst Ziegenfusz)

The top left panel on the interior of the left wing, clearly appropriates Tree of Jesse iconography in a manner similar to the Tree of Saint Anne images discussed in the previous chapter. Replacing Jesse at the base of the tree in this instance however, is Hismeria, the apocryphal elder sister of Saint Anne, who is richly dressed and identified by an inscription at the foot of her large gothic chair. From her shoulders grow the roots of two branches; in a flower blossom to the viewer’s left is her daughter, Saint Elizabeth, with her son John the Baptist directly above her. On the right branch, is Hismeria’s son, Eliud, and above him, his son, Eminen. Directly above Hismeria, encircled by tendrils from both branches, sits Eminen’s descendant, Saint Servatius. Saint Servatius is dressed as a bishop and, besides a crosier, he holds two silver keys which according to legend were given to him by Saint Peter. As discussed in the previous chapter, Saint Servatius was the fourth-century bishop of Tongeren and archbishop of Maastricht on the Meuse and, as such, was particularly venerated in Germany and the Netherlands. The appropriation of Tree of Jesse iconography in this panel serves not only as a reminder of the extended genealogy of Saint Anne, but also invokes the prophecy of Isaiah, reinforcing the authority of the whole iconographical programme of the wings.

The neighbouring panel moves on to the main subject of the altar, Saint Anne and her association with the Carmelites. Anne is depicted as a young girl being introduced to the Carmelites on Mount Carmel by her parents, Emerentiana and Stollanus, while a small vignette in the background depicts her birth. The two lower panels continue the story, with the engagement of Anne and Joachim and then the marriage itself.40 The Marriage of Anne and Joachim takes place in front of a temple portal in the presence of her parents and seems to deliberately reference traditional Marriage of the Virgin iconography. As with the representation of Hismeria, the couple are dressed in rich and elaborate robes, which would resonate with an audience of patricians and wealthy merchants. In addition, Anne wears a crown, which is presumably intended to infer that she, like the Virgin, is descended from King David. This depiction of Saint Anne as a royal ancestor of Christ is relatively unusual, and is a further example of how the Carmelites were prepared to manipulate standard iconography for their own purposes.

The sequence continues on the inner right wing with four scenes from the married life of Anne and Joachim, which Ashley and Sheingorn have suggested may have served as an exemplary model of marriage for the members of the brotherhood.⁴¹ Sev eral well-known episodes from the life of Saint Anne are missing, such as the Rejection of Joachim’s Offering, the Annunciation to Anne and Joachim and the Meeting at the Golden Gate. It may be that these scenes were either incorporated in the lost central shrine, or not considered of particular relevance to the iconographic programme of this work, which is fundamentally concerned with promoting the Carmelites and their personal relationship with a saint on whom they had bestowed great power.

The outer wings of the altar illustrate Anne’s appearance in visions and the representation of various miracles. On the exterior of the left wing, the first panel refers to a miracle of Eliseus (Elisha), thought to have been one of the original founders of the Carmelite Order.⁴² The following depicts Saint Anne among the Carmelites with her children and grandchildren, where the Holy Kinship appears once again in the background, portrayed as an altarpiece that has come to life. Beneath these, the first panel tells the story of the hermit Procopius and how, because of him, Saint Anne came to the aid of the queen of Bohemia during childbirth.⁴³ The following features the vision of Saint Bridget; Saint Anne appears in the sky in the top right corner of the panel, while Saint Bridget can be seen writing her Sermo angelicus, which is being dictated to her by an angel.⁴⁴ These sermons, which are devoted to the Virgin, contain the daily readings for Matins and became an essential part of the Birgittine nuns’ liturgy. The blessing for the second lesson on Wednesday refers to Isaiah’s prophecy, stating

This Virgin also is the rod which Isaias foretold would come out of the root of Jesse, prophesying that a flower would spring out of it, upon which the Spirit of God would rest. O ineffable rod! The while it grew within Anne’s womb, the pith thereof abode even more gloriously in heaven.⁴⁵

The exterior of the right wing starts with the vision of the prophet Elijah. According to Carmelite tradition, Elijah’s vision of a cloud that produced rain, thereby ending a major drought and restoring the fruitfulness of the earth, was seen as a metaphor for the Virgin.⁴⁶ In this interpretation, however, we seem to have a conflation of Elijah’s vision with that of the hermits on Mount Carmel. Elijah is depicted kneeling before an apparition of Saint Anne, who is seen hovering above the sea in a position of prayer. Above her is the Virgin, floating in a light filled cloud surrounded by four angels; she is shown holding the stem of a blossom that supports the Christ Child. This image can also be interpreted as a subtle reference to the Tree of Jesse: Christ is the beautiful flower of the Carmelite vision and the flos of Isaiah’s prophecy. In this way the conflation of Elijah’s vision with that of the hermits is imbued with the inherent authority of well-established iconography.47 Like much of the other plant imagery in this work, the lily of the valley growing from the rock in the foreground has obvious Marian connotations.

The following panel features a vision of Saint Anne on an altar, with the figure of the Virgin as a tiny infant in her womb, an image that was often used as an illustration of the Immaculate Conception of the Virgin, a concept vigorously supported by the Carmelites.⁴⁸ God appears at the top of the panel and the words from the Song of Solomon 4:7, ‘Tota pulchra es’ are inscribed on a scroll above his head; half figures of David with his harp and Solomon appear either side of Him. David’s speech scroll carries a verse from the Book of Psalms 9.36, ‘his/her sin shall be sought, and shall not be found’.⁴⁹ The inclusion of David and Solomon featured half-length and with scrolls, again evokes a visual tradition that relates back to traditional Tree of Jesse imagery. Beneath the upper panels are scenes from the legend of Saint Colette, who experienced visions of Saint Anne.⁵⁰

It seems clear therefore, that the complex iconography of the sixteen wing panels, commissioned on behalf of the Brotherhood of Saint Anne in Frankfurt, was intended primarily to honour Saint Anne as the mother of the Virgin. In addition, they communicated to the viewer the vital role played by the Carmelites in the fulfilment of Isaiah’s prophecy and may have also had a secondary and more subtle function. By highlighting their unique relationship with the female ancestors of Christ, the Carmelites were able to project a strong identity and advertise the advantages of confraternity membership. The viewer was invited to become associated with an order that Christ’s great-grandmother and grandmother had depended on, and established Tree of Jesse iconography was appropriated to help explicate and give authority to this association. Furthermore, although celibate, the Carmelites can also be seen to be actively promoting family life, reassuring current and prospective members that their spiritual needs, and those of their families, would be assiduously taken care of.

Carmelite Imagery in Other Fifteenth-Century Works Dedicated to Saint Anne

Several other works survive which employ similar iconography, yet their origins remain uncertain. Some of these have been associated with Carmelite patronage, while others appear to have a more complicated provenance. Nevertheless, they are an important source of evidence, and a contextual interpretation allows conclusions to be drawn regarding their audience and function.

The first work to be examined is a triptych, now in the Musée d’Histoire de la Médecine in the Université Paris Descartes, which provides another example of how Carmelite imagery, with its clever appropriation of the Tree of Jesse, was used to venerate Saint Anne (Figure 3.3).⁵¹ This work has been dated c.1476–85 and attributed by Max Friedländer to the Master of Saint Gudule, although both the date and attribution remain uncertain and it seems more likely, given the popularity of confraternities of Saint Anne in the 1490s, that the altarpiece was painted at a later date.⁵² The main subject of the work is Saint Anne and the matrilineal genealogy of Christ, and the interior of both wings feature tree imagery that is clearly derived from Tree of Jesse iconography.⁵³ The left wing has a representation of the vision on Mount Carmel; Emerentiana is seen kneeling before four Carmelites. A tree growing from above her breast divides into two branches, whose blooms hold half-figures of Saint Anne and her sister Hismeria. Above them, on the highest branch in a rose blossom, appears the half figure of the Virgin surrounded by a mandorla. Growing from her head is a small twig, which supports an open fruit, out of which steps the naked figure of the Christ Child. Two angels in the corners hold banderols whose inscriptions have many similarities with the prophecy of Isaiah. These read: ‘Emerentia, beautiful clean virgin pure, from the offshoot of the tree that will please God, shall come forth a rose, sweet of scent, that will carry the fruit of life’ and ‘Emerentia, you shall be the root of the rose tree Anna, which will be trusted, and [of the] rose Maria, praised for her virtues, mother of the fruit Jesus, who will keep everything safe’.⁵⁴

Figure 3.3 The Life and Parents of Saint Anne Triptych, Anonymous Netherlandish Master, c.1476–85

(Size: Centre panel, 113 × 83 cm) Université Paris Descartes, Musée d’Histoire de la Médecine, Paris (Photo: © KIK-IRPA, Brussels)

It has been suggested by Charles Sterling that these inscriptions are in a dialect originally spoken around Maastricht and the Lower Rhine, which could indicate that this was the original location of the altarpiece.55 However, Geert Claassens, a specialist in Middle Dutch literature, believes that there is no evidence for this supposition, as the limited amount of linguistic material makes a dialectological analysis problematic. Furthermore, from c.1450, Middle Dutch dialects were developing into a more or less common Dutch, which was showing fewer and fewer outspoken regional features. Consequently, there are no dialectic characteristics in these inscriptions that would connect the wording of the text with Maastricht, or even eastern Middle Dutch regions. Nevertheless, the fact that the inscriptions are in the vernacular rather than Latin would suggest that the altarpiece was intended to be seen by a secular audience.

The right wing features the genealogy of Hismeria, who is depicted at the base of the tree with her husband Ephriam, wrongly named here as Eliud.56 The roots of a tree are suspended above their breasts and above them in blossoms sit their descendants, Eliud and his son Eminen, on the left, and Elizabeth and John the Baptist, on the right. Crowning the tree is Eminen’s descendant, Saint Servatius. At the bottom of the wing, seen kneeling towards the central panel, is the unknown donor, whose black fur almuce indicates that he is a canon. Brandenbarg has suggested that this triptych may be connected directly with Oudewater, whom he claims was a canon of the church at Saint Gudule in Brussels.⁵⁷ However, this seems unlikely, as Oudewater joined the Carmelites in 1455 in Mechelen, and as a friar in a mendicant order could not have been a canon, a position that could be held only by a secular or diocesan priest.⁵⁸ As Douglas Brine has demonstrated, memorial tablets were a favoured means by which late medieval canons in the Southern Netherlands had themselves commemorated, and these sometimes took the form of triptychs, as in the memorial of Jean Thorion of Saint Omer. It is possible therefore that this work, like some of those mentioned in the previous chapter, could have served such a function.⁵⁹ However, the absence of any defining text means that this can only remain a supposition. Even so, the presence of a single patron does suggest that this altarpiece was not commissioned by a confraternity.

The central panel is divided into nine scenes, presented in three rows, designed to be read from left to right, around a traditional Selbdritt image of Saint Anne with the Virgin and Christ Child at the centre. The first scene in the uppermost row shows Stollanus and Emerentiana in the countryside, with their two small daughters, Anne and her sister Hismeria. The following scene shows the Rejection of Joachim’s Offering, followed by the Meeting of Joachim and Anne at the Golden Gate, with a vignette of the Annunciation to Joachim in the background. The middle row features a young Virgin with her parents, to the left of the central image, and a depiction of Saint Anne, with her second husband, Cleophas and their daughter Mary, on the right. The first scene of the bottom row shows Mary Cleophas with her husband Alpheus and their four children; Saint Anne appears again in the middle scene, with her third husband, Salome, and their daughter, Mary Salome; the final image depicts Mary Salome with her husband, Zebedee, and their children. All the figures in the panels are shown richly dressed and, to avoid any confusion, each is identified with an inscription.

Based purely on the iconography, both Sterling and the current museum catalogue suggest that this altarpiece was commissioned for a Carmelite monastery. However, the main focus of the work is its veneration of Saint Anne, and although the genealogy of Hismeria is similar to that seen on the Frankfurt altarpiece wings, the Carmelite friars feature only in the depiction of the vision on Mount Carmel. The combination of the inscriptions in the vernacular and the rich dress of the holy figures may indicate that the altarpiece was designed to be seen by a wealthy secular audience. However, the presence of the canon donor implies that it was not commissioned by a Carmelite-administered brotherhood of Saint Anne. The main function of the work is to honour the matrilineal genealogy of Christ, and the juxtaposition of the tree of the vision on Mount Carmel with the family tree of Hismeria, on either side of scenes from the Life of Saint Anne, draws on Tree of Jesse iconography to remind the viewer of the important role played by these sacred figures in the fulfilment of Isaiah’s prophecy, and of the importance of Saint Anne’s family connections.

A small panel, known as the Virgin of the Carmelites, dated c.1500 and currently in the Museo Lázaro Galdiano in Madrid, also features the vision of the hermits on Mount Carmel (Figure 3.4). Emerentiana is depicted semi-prostrate in the act of prayer with a tree emerging from behind her back, and her girdle is arranged to give the impression of its roots. The tree has only one branch, which leads to a flower that contains a half-length image of Saint Anne holding the Virgin. A further branch leads from the chest of the Virgin to a blossom that contains the figure of the Christ Child. Witnessing this vision are three kneeling Carmelites, their monastery visible in the background. An angel, to the viewer’s left, gestures towards Saint Anne and the Virgin, explaining the vision to the friars with the words ‘hec visio ista significat’ (this vision of yours signifies). The hands of the Carmelite friar, next to the tree, are open in astonishment as he comprehends the meaning of what he is seeing.⁶⁰ Once again, Emerentiana has replaced Jesse as the root of the tree that is destined to produce the virga of Carmel and the flos of Christ.⁶¹ The careful positioning of the strawberry plant, on the edge of Emerentiana’s robes, directly beneath the vision, is clearly not incidental. The iconography of the strawberry plant, with its trifoliate leaf, has often been linked to the Holy Trinity, and as a member of the rose family, also has obvious Marian connotations. Furthermore, it is depicted here in full flower, just before producing its fruit and, therefore, the association of ideas is evident.⁶²

Although this work is rather narrow in its dimensions (99 × 52.5 cm), previous scholarship has assumed that the work was originally the middle part of a triptych, which is supported by the fact that there is some deterioration on the edges of the panel that could have occurred if the wings were removed.⁶³ If this was the case, then the main focus of the altarpiece would have been the vision of the hermits, a particularly Carmelite image, which would suggest a Carmelite commission. However, it is also possible that this panel was a wing of a larger work, one perhaps dedicated to Saint Anne, which could give it an entirely different provenance.⁶⁴ The presence of the canon donor in the Musée d’Histoire de la Médecine triptych, described earlier, suggests that representations of the vision on Mount Carmel were not restricted to Carmelite commissions. It also appears that accounts of the vision were included in non-Carmelite texts, as both Jan van Denemarken, a secular priest, and Dorlandus, a Carthusian, who wrote Lives of Saint Anne at the end of the fifteenth century, began their works with a description of the vision.⁶⁵ Furthermore, some manuscripts entirely devoted to the legend of Emerentiana have been discovered, such as the Legenda sanctae Emerencianae, in a collection of Latin hagiographies from the fifteenth century, now in the Royal Library of Belgium in Brussels (Ms.4837–44, ff.145–190).⁶⁶ It seems entirely possible, therefore, that the Carmelites were so successful in propagating the myth surrounding the early history of their Order that the vision on Mount Carmel, with its attendant imagery, came to be adopted as a standard feature in Saint Anne iconography, regardless of the religious affinity of the donor. This theory is further supported by the existence of some later works, several of which appear to derive from non-Carmelite sources.

Figure 3.4 The Virgin of the Carmelites, Painted Panel, Anonymous Flemish Master, c.1500

(Size: 99 × 52.5 cm) © Museo Lázaro Galdiano, Madrid

Carmelite Imagery in Sixteenth-Century Works Dedicated to Saint Anne

Figure 3.5 Two Wings From a Kinship of Saint Anne Polyptych, Attributed to a Follower of Bernard van Orley, c.1528

(Size of each wing: 139 × 70.5 cm) © Royal Museums of Fine Arts of Belgium, Brussels (Photo: J. Geleyns—Art Photography)

Commissions for sixteenth-century works that include the vision on Mount Carmel alongside episodes from the life of Saint Anne appear on the whole to have been placed with Brussels artists. While this may be an accident of survival, it could also be seen as an attempt by some patrons to counter Reformation ideas, which were increasingly finding support in the city.⁶⁷ The first example to be considered is found on the dismembered wings of a polyptych dedicated to the Kinship of Saint Anne, now in the Royal Museums of Fine Arts of Belgium, and attributed to a follower of Bernard van Orley (Figure 3.5).⁶⁸ The reverse of the left wing features the vision on Mount Carmel; Emerentiana is depicted in a rocky landscape on her knees in prayer, surrounded by a group of Carmelite friars; in the upper part of the panel, three more friars can be seen looking in astonishment at an angel in sky above them. The angel gestures towards a miraculous blossom that seems to emerge from an ordinary tree; in this blossom stands the naked figure of the Christ Child, holding a globe and surrounded by a mandorla. To the left of the panel in the background, beyond a stream, we can see the house and church of the Carmelites. The reverse of the right wing, which is inscribed with the date 1528, features the subsequent Marriage of Emerentiana and Stollanus, in which Emerentiana can be seen wearing a crown to indicate her royal descent. The front of the left wing features the Rejection of Joachim’s Offering, with small scenes in the background depicting the Annunciation to Joachim and the Meeting at the Golden Gate. The right wing depicts the Birth of the Virgin and a small vignette features the Presentation of the Virgin.

The wings were purchased in 1859 from the Sablon church of Notre-Dame in Brussels; however, as the church was closed by the Calvinists in 1581 and worship did not resume until 1803, it seems unlikely that this was the original location of the altar-piece.69 Yvette Bruijnen has suggested that the wings might have originally come from the Convent of the Great Carmelites in Brussels, which was closed during the French Revolution in 1796, although lack of documentary evidence means this can only be speculation.⁷⁰ The missing central panel in all likelihood featured either a Selbdritt or Holy Kinship image and, therefore, it is also conceivable that the work was commissioned by a confraternity or donor with a special devotion to Saint Anne, who may have been unconnected to the Carmelites.

A second altarpiece dedicated to the legend of Saint Anne, also in the Royal Museums of Fine Arts of Belgium, attributed to Jan van Coninxloo and dated 1546, provides more convincing circumstantial evidence that this iconography could be used for non-Carmelite commissions.⁷¹ When open, the central panel of the altarpiece portrays the Holy Kinship in a garden, with small scenes in the background illustrating scenes from the life of Saint Anne. The interior of the left wing features the Rejection of Joachim’s Offering; in the background is a depiction of the vision on Mount Carmel. Other background scenes illustrate the Birth of Saint Anne followed by the Marriage of Anne and Joachim, where, once again, Saint Anne wears a crown to indicate her Davidic descent. The interior of the right wing depicts the Death of Saint Anne and, through the windows can be seen two further scenes: Saint Anne in the desert and her funeral procession.

The iconographic programme of this altarpiece is similar to several of the works previously described. What makes it unusual, however, is the subject matter on the exterior of the wings (Figure 3.6). When the altarpiece is closed, Saint Anne can be seen holding the Virgin and Child before a kneeling nun, who is holding a scroll which carries the prayer ‘SANTA MATER ANNA ORA PRO ME’ (Holy Mother Anne Pray For Me). The nun is being presented to the holy group by Saint Anthony.⁷² As Saint Anthony was one of the major desert hermits, he was important to the Carmelites, yet the nun does not wear the Carmelite habit of a white mantel over a brown or smoke coloured tunic (depending on the dye), and it is likely that she belonged to another religious community. Prior to 1794, when the altarpiece was seized by the French, this triptych was in the l’eglise des Bogards in Brussels, the church of the Cordeliers, which is a branch of the Franciscans.⁷³ If the church of the Cordeliers was the original location of the work, the nun could have belonged to the Franciscan Order of the Poor Clares of Saint Colette, who wore a black cloak over a grey tunic and had a special devotion to Saint Anne. Alternatively, it has been suggested that the nun is wearing the habit of the Benedictines, and that the altarpiece may have originally been commissioned for a Benedictine convent.

Figure 3.6 Legend of Saint Anne Triptych, Exterior Wings, Attributed to Jan van Coninxloo II, 1546

(Size of each wing: 114.5 × 74 cm) Royal Museums of Fine Arts of Belgium, Brussels (Photo: © KIK-IRPA, Brussels)

Several scholars have associated Jan van Coninxloo II with the Benedictine convent of Groot-Bijgaarden in Vorst, now a suburb of Brussels.74 Surviving double wing panels from a polyptych, originally thought to have come from this convent but now in the parish church of Saint Denis, could also be connected with this artist in some way.⁷⁵ When fully closed, the wings depict the Virgin and Child with Anne and Joachim in a semi-interior space.⁷⁶ The first opening shows scenes from the life of the Virgin, and the second and final opening, which would have originally flanked the lost central shrine, has the vision on Mount Carmel on the left (Figure 3.7), with the families of the Virgin’s sisters, Mary Cleophas and Mary Salome, in a meadow on the right.

The portrayal of the vision depicts two events shown simultaneously: in the background, four Carmelite friars greet Emerentiana in front of a church, while, in the foreground, she is asleep in a rocky landscape with five Carmelite friars kneeling in prayer behind her. Emerentiana’s head is resting on her right hand, and from her breast grows a tree, a composition reminiscent of contemporaneous representations of a seated Jesse that are discussed further in Chapter Six. This tree has only a single branch, which blossoms into a large red flower that supports a naked Christ Child in a mandorla.⁷⁷ The frame is stamped with the Brussels mark and dated 1552, and on the first opening of the wings, a glass pane in the window of the Annunciation scene, contains the coat of arms of Margareta Liederkerke, abbess of Vorst.⁷⁸ It is probable,

Figure 3.7 Saint Anne Polyptych, Interior Wing, Anonymous Netherlandish Master, c.1552

(Size of wing: 166 × 84 cm) Church of Saint Denis, Vorst (Photo: © KIK-IRPA, Brussels)

therefore, that the altarpiece was commissioned for the high altar of the Benedictine abbey church, either by Margareta I van Liederkerke, abbess from 1500 to 1541, or by her niece and successor, Margareta II van Liederkerke, abbess from 1541 to 1560, and that the polyptych was moved to the parish church in 1795, the first year it was not mentioned in the abbey inventory.79 The missing central panel, or carved shrine, could have featured a representation of Saint Anne with the Virgin and Child, or even a Tree of Saint Anne, which would have completed the iconographical programme of the polyptych.

The fact that an altarpiece intended for a Benedictine altar also included Carmelite imagery may not be particularly surprising, given the previously discussed association between the prior of the Frankfurt Carmelite monastery, Rumold von Laupach, and Johannes Trithemius, the abbot of the Benedictine monastery at Sponheim. Other examples where Carmelite imagery has been used in a Benedictine context can also be found, for instance, in a woodcut affixed into a Latin missal from the Benedictine Abbey of Gembloux, c.1535, now in the Royal Library of Belgium in Brussels, Ms.5237, fol.8v (Figure 3.8).⁸⁰ Even though it is the Carmelite vision that is depicted, there is a view of Gembloux Abbey with its distinctive belfry in the background, although it is possible that this could have been added at a later date. Similarities between the woodcut and the Vorst panel are obvious and, given the relatively short distance between the two locations, there may be a connection.

It seems apparent that Benedictine patrons were unperturbed by the appearance of Carmelite imagery in their own works of devotion, adopting the legend of the vision on Mount Carmel as part of the wider story of the life of Saint Anne. Other orders have also adopted this imagery, and it can be found on the wings of a spectacular altar-piece commissioned in 1521 by Ruttger Schipmann, prior of the Franciscan church in Dortmund. Now in the protestant Petrikirche, this retable is commonly known as the Goldene Wunder, because of its gilded central shrine that contains a detailed story of the Passion.⁸¹ The painted double wings are attributed to Adrian van Overbeck and, closed, depict a large representation of the Mass featuring the pope and emperor, developed from the established iconography of the Mass of Saint Gregory. However, it is with the first opening that we become fully aware of the complexity of the altar’s iconographical programme (Figure 3.9). A series of thirty-two individual panels tell the Holy Story, combining scenes from the apocrypha and the Bible. Beginning in the lower left and ending in the upper right, the painted panels are arranged over four rows, with eight panels in each row. The lower row is dedicated to the Legend of Emerentiana; the fourth panel depicts her visit to the hermits on Mount Carmel and the fifth features the Vision.⁸²

To summarise, it seems apparent that images played a key role in establishing and communicating the Carmelite story. The analysis of the iconographic programme of sixteen wing panels, commissioned on behalf of the Brotherhood of Saint Anne in Frankfurt, demonstrates how clever appropriation of Tree of Jesse imagery was used to convey the Carmelites’ unique relationship with the matrilineal genealogy of Christ. While the Tree of Hismeria, on the interior of the left wing, is an obvious allusion to the Tree of Jesse motif, the conflation of Elijah’s vision with that of the hermits on Mount Carmel is a far more subtle referencing. In this way, the invocation of well established iconography reinforced the myths surrounding the Order’s foundation and provided a sense of authority. This helped the Carmelites construct a strong

Figure 3.8 Vision of the Carmelites, Woodcut From a Latin Missal, From the Benedictine Abbey of Gembloux, c.1535

Royal Library of Belgium, Ms.5237, fol. 8v

identity, one based on an ancient and distinguished heritage. The altarpiece may have also had a secondary function, which was to advertise the advantages of confraternity membership. Members of the brotherhood came from both patrician families and a wealthy merchant class, and the use of rich and elaborate dress for the holy figures may have been a deliberate attempt to connect with this elite social group.

Figure 3.9 The Goldene Wunder Altarpiece, First Opening of Wings, Attributed to Adrian van Overbeck, c.1521

(Size Open: 565 × 749 cm) Saint Petrikirche, Dortmund (Photo: Rüdiger Glahs)

Although their context remains uncertain, there are other works that incorporate this type of Carmelite imagery, and it has been widely assumed that they must also have been commissioned on behalf of Carmelite churches. However, an examination of these works has indicated that their provenance may be less obvious. The account of the vision on Mount Carmel was not restricted to Carmelite texts, and it seems that other religious groups adopted the Carmelites’ very specific imagery as part of the wider story of the life of Saint Anne. Support for this theory is provided by several works that incorporate the vision on Mount Carmel yet were evidently linked to non-Carmelite houses. The function of the appropriated Tree of Jesse motif in these works is rather different to those featured in works commissioned on behalf of the Carmelites. The Carmelites were not the only religious organisation to appropriate Tree of Jesse iconography, and the second part of this chapter will consider how the subject was employed by some of the other orders, particularly the Dominicans.

The Dominicans and Other Religious Orders

While the Carmelites used the Tree of Jesse to demonstrate and endorse their claim to a special relationship with the female ancestors of Christ, the Dominicans, Carthusians and Franciscans employed the subject not only to communicate their own importance to the outside world, but also to engender a sense of communal identity within their own organisations. In addition, it seems that religious groups would borrow certain attributes from each other; this will be explored further in relation to representations of the rosary within Tree of Jesse iconography. In the case of the Dominicans in Frankfurt, it will be argued that their appropriation of the Tree of Jesse can also be seen as a reaction to the activities of the Carmelites in the city.

The Dominicans, sometimes known as the Order of Preachers, had been established in Frankfurt from 1233, based to the east of the Römerberg district, not far from the Carmelite monastery.83 Their church, one of the most elaborately furnished in Frankfurt, was associated with thirteen confraternities by 1457, and in 1470 a decision was taken to embark on a rebuilding programme.⁸⁴ The new choir was completed in 1474 and, sometime before 1500, Hans Holbein the Elder was commissioned to paint an altarpiece to decorate the high altar. It seems that this assignment was considered of such importance that the Augsburg painter actually relocated his workshop while the work was carried out.⁸⁵ Although the central shrine is now missing, the primary function of the wings was to honour Christ and the Virgin, and the first opening once depicted eight individual panels featuring scenes from the Passion cycle, with the second and final opening containing scenes from the Life of the Virgin.⁸⁶ However, it is when the altarpiece is closed, the view most often seen by the lay audience, that the Frankfurt Dominicans’ preoccupation with their status becomes apparent (Figure 3.10).

Both upper and lower panels of the left wing feature a traditional Tree of Jesse, yet mirroring this iconography almost exactly on the right wing, is a tree of the Dominican Order. Jesse sits on his gothic chair with the trunk of a tree growing from his breast, behind him are the standing figures of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, identified by inscriptions. Sitting in blossoms on the branches of the tree are ten kings; David is shown with his attribute of a harp, and all are identified by inscriptions. A further inscription on the base of the chair refers to Isaiah’s prophecy ‘EGREDIETVR VIRGA DE RADICE YESSE YSAIE XI C[APITVL]O’, and crowning the tree are the Virgin and Child. Either side of the Virgin, inscriptions on the painted frame also relate to the prophecy; ‘VIRGO DEI GENITRIX’ (the Virgin is the mother of God) and ‘VIRGA EST FLOS FILIVS EIVS’ (the flower of the rod is her son). On the right wing, Saint Dominic sits at the base of a tree with a trunk growing from his breast. An inscription identifies him as the founder of his Order: ‘S.DOMINICVS ORDINIS PREDICATOR(VM) FV(N)DATOR PRIMVS’. At the base of his chair, a further inscription relates Isaiah’s prophecy to Saint Dominic’s legacy; ‘FELIX VITIS DE CVIVS SVRCVLO TANTVM GERMEN REDVNDAT SECVLO’, which can be roughly translated as ‘happy is he whose vine abounds so much by the generations from the grafted twig’. In the blossoms of the branches of the tree, also identified by inscriptions, are half figures of a number of prominent but non-related Dominicans, such as Thomas Aquinas and Albertus Magnus. Once again, crowning the tree is the Virgin holding the Christ Child and, inscribed either side of her on the painted frame, are the inscriptions ‘VIRGO DEIFERA FLORIDI P[RE]DICATOR[VM]’ (the Virgin inspires lively preaching) and ‘ORD[IN]IS SI[N]GVLARIS PATRONA’, which names her as the patron of the Order.

Figure 3.10 Altarpiece From the Dominican Church in Frankfurt, Exterior of Wings, Hans Holbein the Elder With Assistance From Sigmund Holbein and Leonhard Beck, 1501

(Size: left wing 166.1 × 150 cm, right wing 166.4 × 150.6 cm) Städel Museum, Frankfurt am Main (Photo: ARTOTHEK)

There is one main difference between the two representations of the Virgin. A white cloth that appears to be part of her cloak in the Tree of Jesse is being passed to a friar in the tree of the Dominicans. Accompanying this action a speech band reads ‘EN HABITVS ORD(IN)IS TVI’ (the habit of your order). The friar receiving the cloth is Master Reginald (c.1180–1220) and the cloth is in fact a scapula, which relates to a legend found in the Libellus by Jordon of Saxony, an early account of the origins of the Order.87 Reginald, Dean of Saint Aignan in Orleans, was allegedly healed by the Virgin from a serious illness in 1218; in a vision he is shown the habit of the Dominicans to indicate that, as an expression of his gratitude, the Virgin wishes him to join the Order. The purpose of this iconography is clearly to highlight the important role played by Master Reginald in attracting new members in the Order’s infancy. However, it also has a secondary meaning: the Blessed Reginald was a doctor of law, teaching in Paris for many years and, consequently, he also serves to show that the Dominicans are on the side of law and orthodoxy.

With so many confraternities based in the Dominican church, there would have been a large secular audience who would have seen the altarpiece on the high altar. The purpose of such an analogy between the Tree of Jesse and the tree of famous Dominican forebears was patently intended to show this audience how important and influential the Order was.⁸⁸ The Virgin and Child are not only presented as the flower of the prophecy of Isaiah, but are also seen as the flower of the Dominican tree; and Ambrose’s maxim that the Virgin ‘is the rod which brings forth the flower, because pure and freely directed to the Lord is her virginity, which is not disturbed by any worldly cares’, is still the responsory of Vespers for the Feasts of the Blessed Virgin in the Dominican Rite.⁸⁹ The Dominicans are representing themselves as an order with an illustrious and eminent theological tradition, and, like the Carmelites, are claiming a special relationship with the Virgin. Given that the Brotherhood of Saint Anne altarpiece was installed in the new Saint Anne chapel of the Carmelite church sometime between 1494 and 1501, it is perhaps possible to see the choice of the iconography for the Dominican altarpiece as a direct response. The Dominicans, who had traditionally been the preeminent mendicant order in Frankfurt, may have been concerned about the success enjoyed by the Carmelite Brotherhood of Saint Anne, and perhaps felt it necessary to re-establish their authority among the lay community.⁹⁰ Furthermore, it seems no coincidence that a triptych dedicated to Saint Anne and the Holy Kinship, now in the Historisches Museum in Frankfurt, was also installed on one of the side altars in the Dominican church in c.1504.⁹¹

The use of Tree of Jesse iconography for the Dominican altarpiece in Frankfurt was not unique, and other examples can be found where the motif has been juxtaposed with a tree of distinguished members of the Order. For example, wall paintings on the rood screen in the French protestant church in Bern, once the Dominican church, share many similarities with the Frankfurt altarpiece. This church, which was originally part of the Dominican monastery, was built between 1270 and 1285, although the rood screen dates from 1495 (Figure 3.11). The Tree of Jesse appears to the left of the altar and is relatively traditional in its representation. Mirroring this iconography, to the right of the altar, is the Dominican tree. Saint Dominic lies asleep at its base, with blossoms on the branches supporting the busts of both male and female Dominicans, all of whom appear to be identified by inscriptions. At the centre of the tree, in the largest blossom, is the half figure of the Virgin holding the Christ Child, and again she is handing the white scapular of the Order to Master Reginald. A significant point of departure from the Frankfurt altarpiece, however, is the fact that neither of these wall paintings are fully visible from the nave, indicating that they were designed principally to be seen inside the sacred space. This suggests that the intended audience for the works was not the lay congregation, but the friars themselves.

Figure 3.11 Rood Screen of the Former Dominican Church, c.1495, Bern

(Photo: © Peter Do | Photography)

It seems, therefore, that the appropriation of the Tree of Jesse to portray the spiritual family of the Dominican Order was not used only for display in a public context, and other examples can also be found where the iconography was employed in an entirely private space, for instance at the Dominican Burgkloster in Lübeck.92 Although this monastery was first established in 1229, building work at the Burgkloster went on into the mid-fifteenth century, with frequent re-buildings and additions.⁹³ The oldest part of the central building is the impressive Long Hall, which occupies the whole ground floor of the north wing and was used by the friars as a summer refectory. Major restructuring took place in c.1400; following this, the walls were richly decorated. Although little is now left of this decoration, the subject matter of the wall painting of c.1450, at the eastern end of the south wall, is still just visible (Figure 3.12). Dominican friars are shown with speech bands in the blossoms of green foliage against a red background. Unfortunately, the text on these bands is no longer legible, so it is not known whether the tree was intended to represent famous forebears, or merely contemporary members of the Lübeck community. While there is no evidence that a traditional Tree of Jesse was once juxtaposed with this Dominican tree, the implied association is clear. Furthermore, a carved Tree of Jesse altarpiece, now in the Saint Annen-Museum, once graced the third pillar of the nave in the Burgkloster church.⁹⁴ The use of Dominican ‘family’ trees in areas primarily restricted to the friars indicates that the function of these images was not only to advertise the pre-eminence of the Order to the lay congregation, but also to help create a sense of community among contemporary members of the Order and, in the case of trees of distinguished past members, act as a reminder of their history and tradition.

Figure 3.12 Tree of the Dominicans, Wall Painting, c.1450, The Burgkloster, Lübeck

Europäisches Hansemuseum, Lübeck (Photo: Susan Green)

The works discussed so far have all been on a relatively large scale, although there are also instances where the Tree of Jesse was appropriated for smaller works. One such example is a German hand-coloured woodcut dated 1473, which is now in the British Museum (BM Reg. No. 1872,0608.344) (Figure 3.13).⁹⁵ A recumbent Saint Dominic replaces Jesse at the foot of a tree, whose branches support the half figures of fourteen male and two female members of the Order, each named by a scroll. At the top of the tree stands the Virgin with the Christ Child on her arm, handing the white scapula to a member of the Order, although in this instance the recipient is the thirteenth-century Dominican pope, Innocent V. Around Saint

Figure 3.13 Genealogical Tree of the Dominicans, Woodcut, 1473

(Size: 41 × 28.7 cm) © Trustees of the British Museum, Reg. No. 1872,0608.344)

Dominic stand six further figures; five can be identified by their halos as saints, while the sixth is crowned with a garland and clutches a rose and a book. This figure represents the well known German Dominican Heinrich Seuse, also known as Henry Suso (c.1295–1366), who although never canonised was widely regarded as a saintly figure.96 At the top of the print is the inscription ‘Felix vitis de cuius surculo Tantū germē redūdat sclo Celi vinū ppinãs. Populo vitali poculo. Ex vbertate palmitū Mundi iam cinxit ambitū’, part of the same Latin rhyme that relates to a play on words associated with vines and shoots that can also be found on the Frankfurt Dominican altarpiece. At the base of the print is a second rhyme: ‘Hos peperi natos Quos pdūt esse beatos Signa dei pura Quãvis papalia, iura Nil decreveŕt Quia multos hec latuerunt. Anno. Mcccc lxxiij’. The abbreviation of some of the words in this rhyme makes it hard to translate and its meaning ambiguous, although it does date the woodcut.⁹⁷

On a smaller and far less expensive scale than altarpieces or frescos, these prints would have not generally been made to order, but produced in large numbers for the open market.⁹⁸ Richard Field has estimated that single-sheet woodblocks would yield conservatively at least one hundred impressions, although he believes that this figure could be closer to two hundred, with smaller blocks capable of producing up to one thousand prints.⁹⁹ Although these single-sheet images must have been relatively widely available, it is not known exactly who they were made for, or how they would have been used. Some smaller prints have been found pasted into Bibles or Missals, which does give some indication of how their owners might have viewed them, although for larger works, such as this print, which measures 41 × 28.7 cm, their purpose and context is more ambiguous. Nevertheless, it is thought that many devotional prints were produced by monasteries for their own brothers or sisters, and perhaps for occasional sale to their lay congregation or other visitors.¹⁰⁰ If this was the case, then it is possible that this type of Dominican ‘family’ tree print could have been produced primarily for use in a monastery, and it may have also had a didactic purpose: to help in the instruction of young novices.¹⁰¹

It seems evident that, like the Carmelites, the Dominicans appropriated Tree of Jesse iconography as a means of communicating their authority and importance. In the case of the Frankfurt altarpiece, this may have been intended as a retort to the Carmelites, following their success in promoting their Brotherhood of Saint Anne. Other examples suggest that, even though they were not related by blood and were predominantly masculine, Dominican ‘family’ trees were used within the Order to help foster a sense of common identity and tradition.

Other orders also adopted images of spiritual genealogy as a way of communicating the relationship between different parts or members of their community. For instance, a Carthusian woodcut representing the progression of the Order from Saint Bruno, can be found in the Statuta ordinis cartusisensis, published in Basel in January 1510 (Figure 3.14).¹⁰² As with the Dominican spiritual trees, the founder of the Carthusians is not represented in an abstract or theoretical way, but is shown as the source of the fruitful tree that produced many distinguished members of the Order.¹⁰³

On an entirely different scale, similar iconography can be found on a Netherlandish tapestry, possibly from Brussels, now in the Basilica of Saint Francis in Assisi (Figure 3.15). The source for this imagery was not only derived from the Tree of Jesse, but also had its roots in a treatise written by the thirteenth-century Italian Franciscan, Bonaventure. In his text, the Tractus qui Lignum vitae dicitur, the author links a series of

Figure 3.14 Tree of Saint Bruno and the Carthusian Order, Woodcut From the Statuta ordinis cartusisensis, c.1510

Basel University Library, AK V 3, fol.a1v

Figure 3.15 Franciscan Tree Tapestry, Wool and Silk, 1479

(Size: 445 × 333 cm) Foto di Marcello Fedeli, Spoleto—2013, © Archivio fotografico del Sacro Convento di S. Francesco in Assisi, Italia

forty-eight devout meditations on Christ’s act of Redemption, with the mystery of the Tree of Life as described by Saint John.104 Bonaventure envisaged the Cross on which Christ was crucified as a living tree, and many Italian representations of the Lignum vitae can be found in Franciscan art of the fourteenth century.¹⁰⁵ The tapestry is divided into two distinct parts, with the lower section depicting five ecclesiastical figures who all appear to wear the habit of the Franciscan Order underneath their vestments. The central figure is Pope Sixtus IV. He is flanked by two other Franciscan popes, and either side of them are two doctors of the church: Bonaventure and Pietro Auriole. In the upper part of the tapestry, Saint Francis is shown in front of the roots of a tree, receiving the stigmata from the crucified Christ. Above Saint Francis is a baldachin, whose canopy carries the inscription ‘TRES ORDINES HIC ORDINAT’ (he established three orders) and, on either side of him, the tree branches out to support six Franciscan saints in flower blossoms, who are all identified by inscriptions. The inclusion of the crucified Christ among the branches of the tree can be seen as a reference to the Lignum vitae, and it connects the distinguished members of the Order as the fruits of Christ’s passion. Directly above Saint Francis, crowning the tree and encircled by a mandorla, is the half figure of the Virgin carrying the Christ Child.

It is has been suggested that the tapestry was commissioned for the Basilica of Saint Francis in Assisi by Pope Sixtus IV. Although there is no documentary evidence to support this claim, it is considered a strong possibility.¹⁰⁶ Sixtus IV, born Francesco della Rovere, was a Minister General of the Franciscan Order of Friars Minor in 1464, prior to becoming the pope in 1471, and he is known to have made many valuable gifts to the Basilica of Saint Francis in Assisi. However, it is also possible that the tapestry was woven as a gift for the pope, and that he then subsequently donated it to the Basilica. Whichever was the case, the representation of Sixtus IV in this work is significant; he is presented on the central axis, directly beneath Saint Francis and the Virgin and Christ Child, and beneath his feet are the coat of arms of the della Rovere family with the crossed keys of the papacy. The implication is obvious: Sixtus IV, as Christ’s representative on earth, is the heir to Saint Francis. The tapestry can therefore be seen as a powerful piece of papal and Franciscan propaganda, appropriating the established iconography of both the Tree of Jesse and the Lignum vitae. It has also been suggested that one of the functions of the tapestry, in the face of internal tensions, was to demonstrate the common origins of the various factions of the Franciscan Order.¹⁰⁷ This work would have been an expensive and exclusive commission, yet it is not known where it would have hung in the Basilica and, therefore, whether the intended audience were the lay congregation or the friars themselves.

The depiction of red and white rosary beads in the right hand of Saint Elzear, the fourteenth-century French Franciscan depicted on the far left of the tapestry, is an unusual addition and demonstrates how iconographic details particular to one order could be used by another to suit their own objectives. Although its origins were much earlier, the cult of the rosary had spread rapidly in the latter quarter of the fifteenth century, following the founding of the first Confraternity of the Rosary in Cologne, in 1475, by the German Dominican Jacob Sprenger. The Dominicans were great advocates of the cult of the rosary, yet the Franciscans believed that they had precedence in the propagation of devotion to the Virgin.¹⁰⁸ The presence of rosary beads in the tapestry could therefore be seen as an attempt by the Franciscans to defend their primacy over the Dominicans. There are also incidences where the Dominicans have borrowed and adapted Franciscan imagery. This can be seen in a painted panel from the second half of the fifteenth century, thought to have come from the Dominican monastery, but now in the Historiche Museum in Frankfurt (Figure 3.16).¹⁰⁹ Attributed to a southern German master, the iconography is derived from the Lignum vitae, yet the branches and fruit of the tree are expressly characterised as a rose bush. Saint Dominic is represented with another friar at the base of the tree, and both figures hold rosary beads in their hands. This image reflects the traditionally held

Figure 3.16 Tree of Life, Painted Panel, Attributed to a Southern German Master, c.1450–1500

(Size: 138 × 113 cm) Historisches Museum, Frankfurt am Main (Photo: Horst Ziegenfusz)

belief that Saint Dominic was the creator of the prayers of the rosary, and implies that the contemplation of Christ’s act of Redemption, encouraged by the Franciscans, could also be considered within the context of the Marian devotion of the rosary, promoted by the Dominicans.

In addition, it is not uncommon to find references to the cult of the rosary in Tree of Jesse images related to other religious groups. For example, it forms an integral part of the iconography of a painted panel in the collection of Rijks-museum, attributed to the circle of the Haarlem based painter Geertgen tot Sint Jans (Figure 3.17).¹¹⁰ Jesse lies asleep on the grass in a walled courtyard, at the base of a tree that supports various descendants on its branches. Crowning the tree is a seated Virgin with the Christ Child in her arms, accompanied by two angels. One of the kings in the tree, seen from the back, is wearing both a crown and a garland of roses on his head, and another rose garland over his shoulder; a second king is wearing rosary beads around his neck. In the top right of the panel, we can see what appears to be part of a monastic house and church, and the removal of over-painting, during restoration in 1932, revealed the kneeling nun in the bottom left corner, who appears to be very young and also has a rosary dangling from her forearm. Behind the nun stands a man leaning on a staff, with a pilgrim’s scrip hanging from his belt.

The first Netherlandish Confraternity of the Rosary was founded in Haarlem in 1478, and it seems that three other paintings by Geertgen tot Sint Jans, or his workshop, are explicitly connected with the veneration of the Virgin through the rosary.¹¹¹ Although it has not been possible to positively identify the convent in this panel, the nun’s white habit has led to the suggestion that she could be from the Cistercian Convent of Saint Mary Magdalene in Haarlem, also known as the Whiteladies Convent. Friedländer has also proposed that she might be a nun from the Convent of the Poor Clares in Amsterdam, although the Poor Clares wore a black cloak over a grey habit.¹¹² An alternative suggestion is that this work is a memorial panel, perhaps commissioned by the individualised male figure in contemporary dress with an open book on the right of the image.¹¹³ If this is the case, then the kneeling nun may in fact be a representation of his dead daughter or some other female relative, and the painting may reflect the donor’s particular devotion to the rosary. Another possibility is that the nun’s white habit may indicate that she came from a Norbertine Convent, whose canonesses still wear the all white habit of their Order.

The Norbertines, also known as the Premonstratensians, are an order of canons regular that are associated with another composition that includes a reference to the rosary (Figure 3.18). This little-known triptych, which combines the themes of the Holy Kinship with the Tree of Jesse, is currently in the Onze-Lieve-Vrouw van Goede Wil church, in Maria-ter-Heide on the outskirts of Antwerp. However, it was not installed in the church of Maria-ter-Heide until 1854, and it seems probable, following the discovery of documents in the archives of the Norbertine Abbey of Tongerloo, that the triptych was originally commissioned for the Abbey in the early sixteenth century.¹¹⁴ This is supported by the identification of the Abbey’s coat of arms on the staff of the kneeling donor on the left wing, who is thought to be the Abbot of the day, Antonius Tsgrooten, shown with his mitre.¹¹⁵

The central part of the triptych features the family of Saint Anne surrounding a single shoot. This rises up to support a crescent moon, which in turn supports the Virgin and Child.¹¹⁶ Beneath the Virgin’s feet is a landscape, which appears to include

Figure 3.17 Tree of Jesse, Painted Panel, Attributed to Circle of Geertgen tot Sint Jans, c.1485–95

(Size: 89.8 × 60.6 cm) Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam

a monastic complex, presumably the Abbey of Tongerloo. The interior of the left wing features a representation of the Tree of Jesse, and the right wing has a tree of Hismeria in which Saint Anne’s sister can be clearly seen holding rosary beads.

Figure 3.18 The Legend of Saint Anne Triptych, c.1513–15

(Size: Centre Panel, 221 × 148 cm) Onze-Lieve-Vrouw van Goede Wil, Maria-ter-Heide, Brasschaat (Photo: © KIK-IRPA, Brussels)

It is apparent, therefore, that it was not only the Carmelites and Dominicans who appropriated Tree of Jesse iconography. The Carthusians and Franciscans also used it to create spiritual family trees that established their authority and helped engender a sense of community and tradition. In other instances, the incorporation of different attributes, such as rosary beads, demonstrates how these religious groups would borrow iconographic elements from each other in an attempt to present themselves to their audience in the most devout and righteous way possible.

1. For Carmelite settlements in Germany see Heinrich Hubert Koch, Die Karmelitenklöster, der Niederdeutschen Provinz, 13 bis 16 Jahrhundert (Freibug im Breisgau 1889). For the Saint Anne Brotherhoods, see Angelika Döfler-Dierken, ‘Annenverehrung in Bruderschaften’, in Die Verehrung der heiligen Anna, 82–85.

2. See Christiane Klapisch-Zuber, L’ombre des ancêtres, essai sur l’imaginaire médiéval de la parenté (Paris: Fayard, 2000) and Dominique Donadieu-Rigaut, Penser en Images Les Ordres Religieux XIIe–XVe Siècles (Paris: Arguments, 2005) for a further discussion of images of the religious orders.

3. 4 Kings 1:10. Frances Andrews, The Other Friars: The Carmelite, Augustinian, Sack and Pied Friars in the Middle Ages (Woodbridge: Boydell Press, 2006), 7–42, discusses the history of the order in some detail.

6. Many historians deny the existence of the Carmelite Order prior to the twelfth century, when hermit monks were first recorded on Mount Carmel.

7. Ashley and Sheingorn, Interpreting Cultural Symbols, 21. Some calendars have Saint Anne’s feast day as the 25th July.

8. The primary works by Bostius were the ‘De illustribus viris ordinis beatissime virginis Mariae de monte Carmelo’ (1475), the ‘Breviloquim tripartitum de institutione, intitulatione et confirmation ordinis’ (before 1484), a treatise on the Marian devotion of the order, ‘De patronatu et patrocinio beatissime Virginis Mariae’ (1479), and the ‘Speculum Historiale’ (before 1491). See Andrew Jotischky, The Carmelites and Antiquity, Mendicants and their Pasts in the Middle Ages (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002), 212. Bostius’ ‘De illustribus viris’ is the only composition available in a modern edition. Many humanists from Germany supported devotion to Saint Anne, Trithemius, for example, names Jodocus Badius, Rudolf Agricola, Conrad Celtis, Jodocus Beissel and Werner von Themar, who were all, to one degree or another, implicated in the German humanist movement. See Noel L. Brann, The Abbot Trithemius (1462–1516), The Renaissance of Monastic Humanism (Leiden: Brill, 1981) 178–179.

9. It was probably during his visit to the Collège Montaigu in Paris that Erasmus, at Bostius’s request, wrote a poem in honour of Saint Anne. Erasmus later dedicated this poem to Anne of Borsselen. For a discussion of the relationship between Bostius and Erasmus see P. Benoit-Marie de la Croix, ‘Les Carmes Humanistes (Environ 1465 jusque 1525)’, Etudes Carmélitaines, Vol. 20 (1934), 38–39.

12. Brandenbarg, ‘St Anne and her Family’, 101. Some contemporary authors seem to have embellished the story even further: by tracing the prophetic line from Elijah to John the Baptist they maintained that several key Old Testament figures could also be called Carmelites. See Jotischky, The Carmelites and Antiquity, 219–223.

13. Piissima Domina… ego credo et confiteor, quia tu ex radice Jesse virga pulcherrima, at per hoc omne quod te aliquatenus decoloraret peccati vulnere aliena prodisti et integerrima permanens florem speciossimum protulisti, non qualemcumque sed super quem septiformis spiritus requievit… per quem florem a peccato primi hominis liberamur. Transcribed in Borchert, ‘L’iconographie du Carmel’, 88.

15. Described by Margaret Rickert, The Reconstructed Carmelite Missal (London: Faber and Faber, 1952), 113–114.

16. For a general discussion of confraternities in the later Middle Ages see Christopher Black and Pamela Gravestock eds., Early Modern Confraternities in Europe and the Americas: International and Interdisciplinary Perspectives (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2006); Reinhard Strohm, ‘Convents and Confraternities’, in Music in Late Medieval Bruges (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1990), 60–73, and Andrews, The Other Friars, 32. For a discussion of the structure and funding of confraternities, see Paul Trio, ‘The Social Positioning of Late Medieval Confraternities in Urbanized Flanders: from Integration to Segregation’, in Monika Escher-Apsner ed., Medieval Confraternities in European Towns: function, forms, protagonists (Frankfurt and Oxford: Peter Lang, 2009), 99–110 and, Döfler-Dierken, ‘Annenverehrung in Bruderschaften’, 109–111.

17. Nixon investigated how the Carmelites in Augsburg offered indulgences in return for gifts to the Brotherhood of Saint Anne, and promoted the confraternity by stating that the good works of the Order would help members gain entrance to the kingdom of heaven. See Nixon, Mary’s Mother, 44–45.

18. Döfler-Dierken, ‘Annenverehrung in Bruderschaften’, 82–85. Although Döfler-Dierken also makes the point that it is sometime difficult to verify the existence of these brotherhoods, as they are often mentioned in documents only when they are beneficiaries of an endowment.

19. Nixon, ‘Economic Factors and the Cult of Saint Anne’, in Mary’s Mother, 81–98.

21. A Carmelite settlement was first established in Frankfurt in 1270, although most of the current church, now the archaeological museum, dates back to the fifteenth century. See Koch, Die Karmelitenklöster, der Niederdeutschen Provinz, 38–39.

22. Heinrich Hubert Koch, Das Karmelitenklöster in Frankfurt am Main, 13 bis 16 Jahrhundert (Frankfurt: Heil, 1912), 31.

23. The original documents from the church archives are transcribed in Koch, Das Karmelitenklöster in Frankfurt am Main, 81–82 and 86–88.

24. This document is transcribed in Koch, Das Karmelitenklöster in Frankfurt am Main, 83–86.

25. Kurt Köster, ‘Pilgerzeichen und Wallsfahrtplaketten von St. Adrian in Geraardsbergen’, in Ernst Holzinger and Herbert Beck eds., Städel-Jahrbuch, Vol. 4. (Munich: Prestel, 1973), 106.

27. The population of Frankfurt at the end of the fifteenth century is taken from Koch, Das Karmelitenklöster in Frankfurt am Main, 39.

28. One of the most valuable donations to be made to the Frankfurt Brotherhood was by a merchant from Antwerp, who in 1487 gave 850 florins for a daily mass to be read in the chapel. See Andreas Hansert, in Wolfgang P. Cillessen ed., Der Annenaltar Des Meisters Von Frankfurt, Historisches Museum (Frankfurt: Henrich, 2012), 52.

29. See Kurt Wettengl, Frankfurt in the Late Middle Ages, Exh. Cat., No. 45. (Frankfurt am Main: Historisches Museum, 1999).

33. This is taken from page 13 of the transcript of a lecture given by Angelika Döfler-Dierken at the Historisches Museum in Frankfurt on the 11th September, 1996.

34. This document can be found in the Institut für Stadtgeschichte, Altes Archiv (Karmeliter Urkunden Nr. 201), Frankfurt am Main.

35. Koch, Das Karmelitenklöster in Frankfurt am Main, 69, discusses how the word ‘tafel’ in this context does not necessarily mean a single panel, but was also used to describe a large altarpiece.

36. Phillip Friedrich Gwinner, Zusätze und Berichtigungen zu Kunst und Künstler in Frankfurt am Main von dreizehnten Jahrhundert bis zur Eröffnung des Städel’schen Kunstinstituts (Frankfurt am Main: J. Baer, 1867), 135–136:

38. These panels have recently been re-arranged to their current position following a physical examination of the saw marks that originally divided them.

39. Guy de Tervarent, Les énigmas de l’art du Moyen Age (2nd series), Art Flamand (Paris: Les É ditions d’art et d’histoire, 1941), 35–46.

40. In the first of these two panels, the background landscape features demons murdering young men, which relates to an extension of the legend of Emerentiana, where six suitors, rejected for their carnal desires, are taken by devils before the devout Stollanus is finally chosen. A similar story appears in the Old Testament relating to the marriage of Sarah and Tobias, Book of Tobias, Chapter 6:14.

41. Ashley and Sheingorn, Interpreting Cultural Symbols, 30. The first panel depicts Joachim and Saint Anne giving thanks, which may derive from the narrative in chapter three of the Pseudo Matthew, where, following the appearance of the angel to Joachim in the wilderness, the angel instructs him to offer up a sacrifice to God. In this representation however, not only is Anne present, but also the offering takes place in the temple. The following scene features Joachim and Saint Anne offering alms to the poor. The lower left panel shows Joachim and Saint Anne sharing a meal, while a vignette in the background features the Birth of the Virgin. The lower right panel portrays the Presentation of the Virgin; here the Virgin is represented twice, at the bottom of the stairs accompanied by an angel and again at the top being received by the high priest.

43. While digging a well Procopius discovered a gold necklace and asked the King of Hungary if it could be made into coins bearing the image of Saint Anne. The first coin was given to the queen. One day, when alone in the woods, she went into labour. Saint Anne came to the aid of the queen and she gave birth without difficulty. The king then rewarded Procopius by making him an archbishop, and Procopius in turn built churches, chapels and monasteries in honour of Saint Anne.

44. For the story of the life of Saint Bridget see Morris, St Birgitta of Sweden.

45. Graf, Revelations and Prayers of Saint Bridget of Sweden. Being the ‘Sermo Angelicus’, 33–35.

48. It has been suggested by Ashley and Sheingorn that the panel may actually represent an illustration of the hymn for the feast, where the authorities are called upon to give their opinion as to the truth of the doctrine. See Interpreting Cultural Symbols, 35.

49. ‘Quaeretur peccatum illius et non invenietur’. As Vloberg identified, the Latin word illius can be taken as either masculine or feminine. He suggests that as it clearly refers to the Virgin then we should read it as feminine in this context. See Vloberg, ‘The Iconography of the Immaculate Conception’, 466.

50. In the first, Saint Anne introduces her descendants as a vindication of her three marriages and, in the second, Colette is seen praying before an altarpiece of the Holy Kinship; an apparition in the sky shows Saint Anne soliciting prayers from the saints on her behalf. The Life of Saint Colette was written by her confessor; she was born in Corbie in 1381 and reformed the order of Poor Clares, dying in Ghent in 1447. A confraternity of Saint Anne existed in the church of Saint Nicholas in Ghent from 1445. For further details see Elizabeth Dhanens, ‘Een “Maagschap van de H. Anna” in Het Derde Kwart van de 15de Eeuw?’, Academiae Analecta, Mededelingen van de Koninklijke Academie voor Wetenschappen, Letteren en Schone Kunsten van België, Jaargang 48, No. 2 (1987), 115–126.

51. The altar was donated to the museum by Professor Gilbert in 1927. For further details see Marc Fumaroli, Marie-Véronique Clin et al., Le Corps Mécène, Chefs-d’Oeuvre de l’université René Descartes (Paris: Association des Amis du Musée, 2005, 62–79.

52. Max Friedländer, ‘Die Brüsseler Tafel-Malerei Gegen Den Ausgang des 15. Jahrhunderts’, in Paul Clemen ed., Belgische Kunstdenkmäler (Munich: Bruckmann, 1923), 319–320. Charles Sterling, who dated the work based on the style of dress, has also suggested that it might be attributed to the circle of Dirk Bouts. Charles Sterling, Exposition des Collections Artistiques de la Faculté de Médecine de Paris (Paris:1935), 5.

53. Unfortunately nothing remains of the paint surface on the exterior of the wings.

54. ‘Emerencia scoe[n] zuuer maeghet puere, Vten groysel des boems die god behagen zal, Sal spruten een Roose zoet van geurere, Die de vrucht des leues dragen zal’ and ‘Emerencia ghy zult de wortel wesen, des Roesboems anna die men betrouwen za[l], Ende roose maria in deugden gepresen, Moeder der vrucht Jhesus die al behouwen zal’. I am grateful to Geert Claassens, Professor of Middle Dutch literature at Leuven University, for his help in transcribing and translating these texts.

55. Sterling, Exposition des Collections Artistiques de la Faculté de Médecine de Paris, 5. Sterling also suggests that the presence of plain halos, an iconographic detail he believed was particular to Cologne painters, may indicate that both the work and the donor came from this area.

56. This error may be due to incorrect restoration, although the area taken up by the inscription does not look spacious enough for a longer name and could have been an original mistake. Elsewhere however, Hismeria’s husband is named as Affra, which could have been changed to Eliud at a later date. Richard Copsey O.Carm, ‘The Life of St. Anne By an Unknown Flemish Carmelite’, 4, To date unpublished.

58. From 1495 Oudewater was in Germany, first as sub prior at Kassel and then as prior in Gerardsbergen and sub prior in Frankfurt. He returned to Mechelen in June 1503 and died there at the age of seventy-four. I am grateful to Richard Copsey O. Carm for supplying these details.

60. Ewald Maria Vetter has suggested that the placing of his hands, as if they are about to grasp the calyx, may be seen as a deliberate reference to the chalice and therefore to the Eucharist. See Vetter, ‘La Tabla de los Carmelitas del Museo Lázaro Galdiano’, Goya: Revista de Arte, No. 47 (Madrid, 1962), 334.

61. Vetter proposes that the position of Emerentiana on the ground may also be a reference to her humility and the humility of the Virgin. Vetter, ‘La Tabla de los Carmelitas’, 333–334.

64. Despite stylistic differences, certain similarities between the Madrid panel and the left wing of the Paris triptych have lead Vetter to suggest that, if Friedländer is correct about the previous attribution, this might also be a work of the Master of Saint Gudule. Vetter, ‘La Tabla de los Carmelitas’, 337. An attribution to Bouts has also been proposed by José Lázaro y Galdiano, in La colección Lazaro de Madrid, Vol. 2 (Madrid: La Espana moderna, 1926), 460.

65. Brandenbarg, ‘St Anne and Her Family’, 105–112. In Dorlandus’ ‘Historie van sinte Anna moeder Marie’ we encounter a new variant: the tree has a beautiful branch with three twigs, representing the three daughters produced by Saint Anne’s three marriages. Denemarken’s texts contain two alternative readings of the Carmelite vision. In the first, ‘Die historie, die gheliden ende die exemplen vander heyliger vrouwen Sint Annen’, Anne is born before Hismeria. This is reversed in ‘Die historie van Sint Anna’; in this description of the vision the hermits see a beautiful branch with many leaves and fruit, once the fruit has been gathered the tree withers, although another beautiful fruit then grows from the dried branch. This is surrounded by a celestial light and a voice from heaven announces that Emerentiana will bear another daughter. Only when Emerentiana is sixty-one is this promise finally fulfilled, implying that Anne is immaculately conceived. This latter version of the vision appears in a Life of Saint Anne that was copied by the English Carmelite John Bale during a visit to the Netherlands in the early sixteenth century (British Library, Ms. Harley 1819, ff.17–40). See Richard Copsey O.Carm, ‘The Life of St. Anne by an Unknown Flemish Carmelite’.

66. This manuscript was in a Leuven monastery until 1791. For a full description see Joseph van den Gheyn, Catalogue des Manuscrits de la Bibliothéque Royale de Belgique, Vol. V (Brussels: H. Lamertin, 1905), 119–120.

67. For a discussion of the spread of Lutheranism and Calvinism in Brussels see Alistair Duke, Reformation and Revolt in the Low Countries (London and New York: Hambledon and London, 2003).

68. Alexandre Galand, The Flemish Primitives VI, The Bernard van Orley Group, Catalogue of early Netherlandish Painting in the Royal Museums of Fine Arts of Belgium (Turnhout: Brepols, 2013), 340–357. These wings have also been attributed to the Master of Saint Michael. See Yvette Bruijnen, ‘The Master of Saint Michael: A Newly Established Group of Paintings By an Artist in the Orbit of Bernard van Orley’, Oud Holland, 115, No. 2 (2001/2), 79–110.

69. It may be significant that a later painting, which features an abbreviated Tree of Saint Anne, still hangs high on the north wall of the side aisle of the Sablon church.

71. The interior of the right wing, which features the Death of Saint Anne, has a cartouche above the bed containing the inscription ‘JAN VAN CONIXLO 1546’.

72. Barely visible on the wall behind Saint Anthony are the shadows of a pig and a bell, two of his attributes.

73. Henri Pauwels ed., Catalogue inventaire de la peinture ancienne, Musé es Royaux des Beaux-Arts de Belgique (Brussels: Les Musées, 1984), 64.

74. Jeanne Maquet-Tombu in her article ‘Une Oeuvre Inédite de Jan van Coninxlo’, Gazette des Beaux-Arts, Vol. VI (1931), 148–159, was one of the first to establish a link between this convent and the works of Jan van Coninxloo II.

75. Frank van der Ploeg, in his article ‘Jan II van Coninxloo en zijn werkzaamheden voor het benedictinessenklooster van Groot-Bijgaardenbij Brussel’, Oud Holland, Vol. 112, No. 2/3 (1998), 104–126, discusses the discovery of two books in the archive of the convent which record payments made by the prioresses. These documents list a separate item for painting and polychromy work, and it is here that the name Jan van Coninxloo appears in connection with a sum paid for painting the side panels of the main altar. Whether these are the Saint Denis wings is uncertain.

77. Both Maquet-Tombu and Lafontaine-Dosogne have identified the seated figure as Saint Anne, although this seems unlikely as she is dressed in the same blue robe as Emerentiana greeting the friars in the upper part of the panel. Furthermore, Anne is dressed in a brown robe on the exterior view of the wings.

78. The coat of arms were identified by Maquet-Tombu in ‘Une Oeuvre Inédite de Jan van Coninxlo’, 156.

79. Véronique Bücken, ‘Veelluik van de Heilige Anna en de Kindsheid van Jezus’, in Bart Franzen ed., De Heilige Alena verering en verbeelding; gids voor een bezoek aan de Sint-Denijskerk van Vorst (Brussels: Jacob Debruyne, 2006), 54–56.

80. Jan van der Stock, Early Prints, the Print Collection of the Royal Library of Belgium (London: Harvey Miller, 2002), 46, no. 096 and, Joseph van den Gheyn, Catalogue des Manuscrits de la Bibliothèque Royale de Belgique, Vol. 1 (Brussels: H. Lamertin, 1901), 264–265.

81. It is the largest known Antwerp altarpiece and cost 900 Brabantine Guilders, an extremely high sum given that a small Antwerp altar at the time could be purchased for 35 Guilders. See Godehard Hoffmann, ‘Ein Antwerpener Flügelaltar für die Dortmunder Franziskaner’, in Barbara Welzel et al. eds., Altes Gold in neuer Pracht: das Goldene Wunder in der Dortmunder Petrikirche (Bielefeld: Verlag fü r Regionalgeschichte, 2006), 79.

82. This panel is followed by a representation of the Marriage of Emerentiana and Stollanus, a depiction of Emerentiana at prayer and, finally, the Birth of Saint Anne. The next row features eight scenes from the Life of Saint Anne culminating in the Meeting at the Golden Gate. The third row features episodes from the Life of the Virgin and the fourth concludes with scenes from the Life of Christ. The programme is completed with four small panels in the top corners of the wings, which feature the Holy family in Egypt, the Massacre of the Innocents, the Return from Egypt and the twelve-year-old Jesus in the Temple.

83. For further details regarding the early history of the Dominicans in Frankfurt see Heinrich Hubert Koch, Das Dominikanerkloster zu Frankfurt am Main 13 bis 16 Jahrhundert (Freiburg im Breisgau: Herder, 1892).

84. Wettengl, ‘Donations’, Chapter Five in Frankfurt in the Late Middle Ages.

85. Bodo Brinkmann, ‘Hans Holbein the Elder’, in Städel Museum, Guide to the Collection (Frankfurt am Main: Michael Imhof, 2008), 28–29.

86. For further details see Bodo Brinkman and Jochen Sander eds., German Painting Before 1800 in Prominent Collections: An Illustrated Comprehensive Catalogue, Vol. 1, Städel, Frankfurt am Main (Frankfurt am Main: Blick in die Welt 1999), 38.

87. See ‘The Libellus of Blessed Jordon’, 120, in Biographical Documents, 82. Libellus de Principiis Ordinis Praedicatorum, CXX, Monumenta Historica Santi Patris Nostri Dominici, MOPH, XVI, Institutum Historicum Fratrum Praedicatorum, Rome, 1935. Jordon of Saxony, a member of the German nobility, was Saint Dominic’s contemporary and immediate successor as Master General of the Order.

88. For a discussion of whether the historically famous Dominicans represented may actually be contemporary portraits of members of the Order, see Katharina Krause, Hans Holbein der Ältere (Munich: Deutscher Kunstverlag, 2002), 173.

89. Hilda Graef, Mary: A History of Doctrine and Devotion (London: Sheed and Ward, 1994), 87, n.4.

90. See Wettengl, ‘Donations’, Chapter Five in Frankfurt in the Late Middle Ages, for a brief discussion of the Dominicans primacy in Frankfurt.

91. The iconography of this altarpiece is discussed in further detail by Andreas Hansert and Jochen Sander in Der Annenaltar Des Meisters Von Frankfurt.

93. For a history of the Burgkloster see Russalka Nikolov ed., Das Burgkloster zu Lübeck (Lubeck: Charles Coleman Verlag GmbH, 1992).

94. Uwe Albrecht ed., Corpus der Mittelalterlichen Holzskulptur und Tafelmalerie in Schleswig-Holstein, Band 1, Hansestadt Lubeck, Sankt Annen-Museum (Kiel: Ludwig, 2005), 415.

95. Campbell Dodgson, Catalogue of Early German and Flemish Woodcuts preserved in the Department of Prints and Drawings in the British Museum, Vol. 1 (London: Trustees of the British Museum, 1903), 107–108.

96. Seuse’s ‘Exemplar’, his collection of writings, was widely known in the fifteenth century. For further details see Jeffery F. Hamburger, ‘Medieval Self Fashioning: Authorship, Authority and Autobiography in Seuse’s Exemplar’, in Kent Emery and Joseph Wawrykow eds., Christ Among the Medieval Dominicans (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1998), 430–461. A second impression of the woodcut was in the Albertina in Vienna by 1924.

97. Both these inscriptions can also be found on the genealogical tree of the Dominicans on page 26 of Turrecremata’a Meditations, Rome, 1473. See Dodgson, Catalogue of Early German and Flemish Woodcuts, 108.

98. For a discussion of the nature of the early print market see David Landau and Peter Parshall, The Renaissance Print, 1470–1550 (London and New Haven: Yale University Press, 1994) and Peter Parshall and Rainer Schoch eds., Origins of European Printmaking: Fifteenth-Century Woodcuts and their Public, Exh. Cat. (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 2005).

99. Richard S. Field, ‘Early Woodcuts: The Known and Unknown’, in Parshall and Schoch eds., Origins of European Printmaking: Fifteenth-Century Woodcuts and their Public.

101. A Netherlandish woodcut of a similar date, but with slightly different iconography, may have also had a similar didactic function. For further details see Richard S. Field, Fifteenth-Century Woodcuts and Metalcuts from the National Gallery of Art Washington DC (Washington, DC.: Publications Department, National Gallery of Art, 1965), Cat. No. 256 (Rosenwald Collection 1964.8.11).

102. Julian M. Luxford ed., ‘Woodcuts in Carthusian Books’, in Studies in Carthusian Monasticism in the Late Middle Ages, Medieval Church Studies 14 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2008), 254.

103. An early sixteenth-century triptych featuring a Carthusian spiritual genealogy can also be found in the Germanisches Nationalmuseum in Nuremburg.

104. Revelation 22:2: ‘In the midst of the street thereof, and on both sides of the river, was the tree of life, bearing twelve fruits, yielding its fruits every month, and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations’.

105. See for example the panel by Pacino di Bonaguida, c.1310, for the Poor Clares of Monticelli, and a fresco by Taddeo Gaddi, c.1340, in the refectory of Santa Croce in Florence. For a discussion of these works and their relationship to Bonaventure’s Lignum vit ae see Jeryldene Wood, Women, Art, and Spirituality; The Poor Clares of Early Modern Italy (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996), 73–85 and 179–180.

106. Thomas P. Campbell ed., Tapestry in the Renaissance, Art and Magnificence, Metropolitan Museum of Art (London and New York: Yale University Press, 2002), Cat. No. 4, 65–70.

107. M. Viale Ferrero, ‘L’Albero Francescano’, in Maria G. Ciardi Dupré dal Poggetto ed., Il Tesoro Della Basilica Di San Francesco Ad Assisi, Il miracolo di Assisi 3 (Assisi: Casa editrice francescana, 1980), 159–165.

110. It has also been attributed to Jan Mostaert. See Max Friedländer, ‘Lucas van Leyden and Other Dutch Masters of His Time’, in Early Netherlandish Painting (translated by Heinz Norden), Vol. X (Leyden: Sijthoff 1973), 71.

111. Henk van Os et al., Netherlandish Art in the Rijksmuseum, Vol. 1 (Amsterdam: Waanders, 2000), 72–74.

112. Friedländer, ‘Lucas van Leyden and Other Dutch Masters of His Time’, 71

114. Didier Martens, ‘Un disciple Tardif de Rogier de la Pasture: Maitre Johannes (alias Johannes Hoesacker?)’, Oud Holland, Vol. 114, No. 2–4 (2000), 80–81.

115. An entry in the Abbey’s ledgers of 1513 records a payment of nine florins to a painter, Johannes, for a tableau of the Legend of Saint Anne. See Martens, ‘Un disciple tardif de Rogier de la Pasture’, 81–83. It seems that this may have been the artist responsible for the altarpiece, although it has been argued elsewhere that this was far too small an amount for such a major work, and that therefore Johannes may merely have been reimbursed for his assistance on the triptych. If this was the case, another artist, perhaps Goossen van der Weyden, who had strong links with the Abbey and with Antonius Tsgrooten, could have been responsible for the majority of the work. See Gérard Passemiers, ‘Retable de la Legende de Sainte Anne’, in Goossen van der Weyden (1465–1538/1545), Peintre d’Ecole Anversoise (Brussels: G. Passemiers, 1987). The exterior of the wings depict the standing figures of the twelve apostles with Saint Paul. There is a striking stylistic contrast between the interior and exterior of the triptych, supporting the argument for at least two different hands.

116. The depiction of the lactating Virgin in this work, unusual in Tree of Jesse iconography, may be an allusion to the legend of lactation of Bernard of Clairvaux, who was a friend of Saint Norbert, the founder of the Order. The inscriptions are taken from the prophecy of Isaiah 11:1 and Numbers 24:17.

3
The Tree of Jesse, the Carmelites and Other Religious Orders

The Carmelites

The Frankfurt Brotherhood of Saint Anne

Carmelite Imagery in Other Fifteenth-Century Works Dedicated to Saint Anne

Carmelite Imagery in Sixteenth-Century Works Dedicated to Saint Anne

The Dominicans and Other Religious Orders

Conclusion

Notes

3The Tree of Jesse, the Carmelites and Other Religious Orders

The Carmelites

The Frankfurt Brotherhood of Saint Anne

Carmelite Imagery in Other Fifteenth-Century Works Dedicated to Saint Anne

Carmelite Imagery in Sixteenth-Century Works Dedicated to Saint Anne

The Dominicans and Other Religious Orders

Conclusion

Notes

3
The Tree of Jesse, the Carmelites and Other Religious Orders