Tag Archives: pontificals

The Other Sister Research Seminar: Images

By Meghan Lescault

As The Other Sister project examines women who often took religious life in new and interesting directions, it was only fitting that we followed in their footsteps ever so slightly for our most recent online research seminar on December 13, 2024, where we departed from our customary format and ventured into new territory. Prior to the meeting, images that had been sent in by several scholars were disseminated to all participants. During the seminar, these scholars had the opportunity to discuss these images that they had come across in their research of medieval and early modern religious women and to ask all attendees for information, ideas, and points of comparison with their own research. This collaborative exercise, hosted by Mary Doyno and Tanya Stabler Miller, was a great success, as it led to robust discussion and a helpful exchange of ideas.

A close-up from the left panel, taken from the larger image seen here.

Isabelle Cochelin began the conversion with the above image of a woman, who is thought to be St. Monica, from a fifteenth-century Netherlandish triptych depicting scenes from the life of St. Augustine. She discussed her search for representations of non-cloistered religious women in art, of which this painting is a potential example. This search has led to questions as to whether such women can be detected in crowds and as attendees of sermons in pieces of artwork. Cochelin also mentioned the difficulties of determining the identity of women depicted in art on the basis of their habits. For example, how can we tell whether the subject is meant to be dressed in the garb of a widow or of another type of non-cloistered woman? Devon Sherwood offered the comparison of books of hours that did in fact belong to religious women but depict their owners in secular clothing. Ashley Tickle Odebiyi offered the insight that the potential St. Monica is portrayed here in a blue habit, a noteworthy point given that the bizzoche of Rome studied by Odebiyi are associated with a consorority of St. Monica that also had habits of a blue hue.

Meghan Callahan further stirred up a flurry of conversation with an image taken from Francesco da Castiglione’s sixteenth-century biography of Sister Domenica da Paradiso. It can be seen on the second page of Callahan’s 2012 article found here. The unusual image is meant to depict Domenica in the midst of a vision, seemingly having a mystical experience of Christ’s crucifixion. Callahan asked the group if others had encountered any comparable images. Amongst several interested respondents, Kate Bush recalled a description of a similar image portraying Vanna of Orvieto in 1306 as well as the accounts of Margaret of Cortona mystically experiencing the wounds of Christ. Callahan was the recipient of several inquiries, as curious attendees wanted to know more about the intriguing image: Who drew it? Could it have been a female artist? Why the detailed outline of Domenica’s legs? Why the Y-shaped cross? Callahan believes that it was composed by Domenica’s confessor and biographer Francesco and that the details of the image simply represent an attempt to portray the sight of Domenica during her visions accurately.

Margot Fassler’s chosen image, found in the Klarenbuch, Karlsruhe, BLB Cod. Thennenbach 4, continued the theme of women depicted in unusual places that are typically reserved for Christ. In this case, St. Clare is placed at the middle of a Last Supper table—seated between Christ and St. John—in a late-fifteenth- or early-sixteenth-century painting by the Poor Clare Sybilla von Bondorf. In comparing this painting to a similar depiction of St. Francis at the Last Supper, also painted by Bondorf and found in the Life of Francis in German (London, BL 15710, f.168v), Fassler surmised that Bondorf may have been appealing to her viewers’ memories, as she painted Clare as the presider in one painting and Francis in the other. This can also be seen in two depictions of Bonaventure painted by Bondorf. Fassler’s work on music, in which one melody can have multiple settings, led her to the realization that a similar phenomenon may be at play in artwork—highly stylized images with similar themes but slightly different details. Amanda Pullan offered a helpful comparison with seventeenth-century embroidery in which women would embroider angel or biblical stories on the left side of the panel, changing the exact content but maintaining the same location of the images.

Tanya Stabler Miller continued the discussion by presenting sketches of the tomb effigies of three identifiable medieval Parisian beguines—Jeanne Brichard, Agnes d’Orchies, and Marie de Gonesse. Images of the latter two can be found on pages 100 and 51, respectively, in Stabler Miller’s book. She pointed out that such items allow for interesting observations about how the women chose to represent themselves, and she specifically drew attention to the girdle books carried by Brichard and Gonesse in these images, suggesting that such an accessory might have an association with beguines. Their connection with these wearable pouches intended to carry and protect psalters and other books would make sense given their reputation for piety and charitable work as well as their movement between spaces such as the beguinage, workshops, and home. In asking the group for comparisons, Stabler Miller received feedback about similar tomb effigies of women depicted with books. Moreover, Margot Fassler and Siobhan Nelson noted the similarity of these girdle books to chatelaines, which were used by women working in nursing and haberdashery to store their belongings needed for such tasks. Stabler Miller pointed out that beguines could function as caregivers and silk-workers and that the need for a storage device of this kind highlighted their mobility and fluidity between spaces.

Diptych-reliquary depicting Dominican saints, saint Ursula, saint Catherine of Alexandria, the Virgin and donors. Burgos, Monastery of Santa Maria de Las Huelgas. 13.2 x 20.2 x1 cm (both panels). Beginning of the fourteenth century. Reproduced with the permission of Patrimonio Nacional.

Mercedes Pérez Vidal brought the conversation off the page and into the third dimension, as she discussed the above devotional diptych and reliquary that probably originated in or near Cologne but is now housed at the Cistercian monastery of Las Huelgas in Burgos, Spain. She emphasized two especially intriguing, even puzzling aspects of this object. The diptych contains one of the earliest known depictions of Helen of Hungary, a Dominican nun who is styled as a saint here, and at the same time, it is very similar to an object that belonged to Christina von Stommeln, a beguine who lived near Cologne in Jülich. Pérez Vidal noted that this points to a blurring of boundaries between cloistered and non-cloistered women, Dominicans and beguines. Isabelle Cochelin responded by inquiring about the price of such a precious object and who would have had the means to afford it. Pérez Vidal emphasized that the origin of the diptych remains unknown but discussed the possibility that it came out of the context of the circulation of relics, especially those of the 11,000 virgins of Cologne, that occurred in the area between Cologne and the Low Countries.

Barbara R. Walters furthered the discussion with a presentation of an illumination in a Mosan Psalter (The Hague, KB 76 G. 17 f. 82v). She explained that she approaches images in terms of historical sequences, palimpsests, and progressions with particular emphasis on the feast of Corpus Christi. The thirteenth-century women of Liège, especially the recluse Eve of St. Martin and St. Juliana of Mont-Cornillon, are represented here by this image from a Mosan Psalter, as this is part of a group of psalters that likely circulated among laywomen of Liège. Moreover, the image’s depiction of the elevation of the host highlights the Eucharistic devotion among the women of Liège, who were instrumental in instituting the new feast of Corpus Christi in 1246. Thinking about generations of recluses, Walters asked the group if it makes sense to see different generations of recluses in Liège as part of a progression from a friendship network to a more formal set of church roles and relationships. Isabelle Cochelin responded that the notion of recluses as wholly enclosed with a locked door has been debated throughout the centuries. While the rhetoric suggested constant enclosure, there were significant variations in reality.

Katherine Clark Walter brought the session to a fitting close with some perplexing illuminations from a fourteenth-century pontifical of William Durand (Clm 10037, Bayerische Staatsbibliothek Munich). Three images found on folios 80v (page 170 in the above link), 81r, (171), and 233r (475) depict women standing behind a bishop at various consecration ceremonies, an unusual sight in such manuscripts. We especially focused on folio 81r (171), where such an illumination is paired with the text for the benediction of widows. Clark Walter thought that the woman right behind the bishop might be an officiant at the benediction alongside the bishop and asked the group why this might be. In response, Isabelle Cochelin discussed the often-significant roles played by abbesses at the professions of nuns and introduced the question of the potentially diverging roles of the abbess and the bishop, depending on the sources consulted. Margot Fassler and Meghan Callahan both questioned whether the woman was playing an active part as an officiant or rather was serving as a witness. Bruce Venarde drew everyone’s attention to the highly unusual nature of the image, highlighting the strange placements of the virgins to one side, the bishop to the other side, the woman behind the bishop, and a monk front and center.

Mary Doyno noted that ending on the note of oddity was a fitting cap for this meeting, as its goal was to elicit analysis, draw out questions, and illustrate the need for further research. This session did just that, highlighting the potential successes of crowdsourcing and proving that sometimes a picture is worth more than 1000 words.