ADORATION OF THE CHILD [Nativity] (anonymous follower of Bosch)
Oil on wood (oak), 105,5 x 84,2 cm
XVId
Cologne, Wallraf-Richartz-Museum (inv. nr. 474)
Unverfehrt 36 / De Vrij D.1
ADORATION OF THE CHILD [Nativity] (anonymous follower of Bosch)
Oil on wood (oak), 64,2 x 59,6 cm
XVIB (according to the museum)
Brussels, Musées Royaux des Beaux-Arts (inv. nr. 368)
Unverfehrt 36a / De Vrij D.1.1
ADORATION OF THE CHILD [Nativity] (anonymous follower of Bosch)
Oil on panel, 47,5 x 40 cm
16th century?
’s-Heerenberg, Huis Bergh
Unverfehrt? / De Vrij D.1.2
ADORATION OF THE CHILD [Nativity] (anonymous follower of Bosch)
Oil on wood, 56 x 76 cm
Circa 1550?
’s-Hertogenbosch, Noordbrabants Museum (on loan from Amsterdam, Rijksmuseum)
Unverfehrt 36a d) / De Vrij D.1.3
Four versions of this composition, whose correct title should be Adoration of the Shepherds, are well-known, but others do exist, more than likely hidden in private collections [see for example De Vrij 2012: 506 (D.1.4 / D.1.5)].
LITERATURE
Justi [1889: 127-128] considers the Cologne version a Bosch original and the Brussels version a copy. The winter landscape refers to a morning in December.
Dollmayr [1898: 300] disagrees with Justi. The composition of the Cologne and Brussels versions only shows a distant affinity (eine entfernte Aehnlichkeit) to Bosch.
Gossart [1907: 286 (5b / 6)] seems to consider the Cologne version an authentic Bosch. He calls the Brussels version a copy of the Cologne version.
Lafond [1914: 39-40] deems it possible that the Cologne and Brussels versions are copies of a lost Bosch original. He interprets the St Joseph figure as a shepherd.
Baldass [1917: 194] considers the Cologne and Brussels versions copies of a composition that Bosch produced during the last years of his career.
Schürmeyer [1923: 43-44] agrees with Justi and considers the Cologne version a strongly corrupted Bosch original.
According to Tolnay [1937: 103 (nr. 45)] the Cologne version is the best preserved copy of an orginal Bosch composition. He dates it around 1540. In 1965, though, Tolnay [1965: 380-381 (nr. 45)] regards the Cologne version as the original painting, at least so far as the main figures are concerned. The technique of these main figures corresponds to Bosch’s style of the period of the London Crowning with Thorns. The magpie, a symbol of inquisitiveness and garrulity and likewise present in the Philadelphia Epiphany, is perhaps a spiritual self-portrait of Bosch [Tolnay 1965: 342 (nr. 4)].
According to Brion [1938: 13-14] the facial expression of the shepherd behind the curtain in Cologne is of such a ‘sarcastic malice’ (de malice goguenarde) that the painting should be entitled The Adoration without Shepherds.
Baldass [1943: 38 / 62 / 68 / 246] thinks the Cologne version is a faithful copy of a lost Bosch original. It dates from circa 1550. There is another copy in Brussels. [How does Baldass know that the copy is faithful when the original has been lost?]
Combe [1946: 95 (nr. 119)] considers the Cologne version an ancient copy of a Bosch original.
Cinotti [1966: 110 (nr. 54): the Cologne version is a copy of a Bosch original. It is of high quality. There are two other copies, one in Brussels and one in a Dutch private collection.
Cat. ’s-Hertogenbosch 1967: 82 (nr. 10). The Cologne version is generally considered the best of three 16th-century copies of a Bosch original.
Lemmens/Taverne [1967/68: 75-76]: the Cologne version is a mediocre work with Boschian figures and mid-sixteenth-century elements and its technique shows no affinities with Bosch’s London Crowning with Thorns, as was suggested by Tolnay.
Gerlach [1968b: 378] thinks it is difficult to attribute the Cologne version to Bosch. The Brussels version is definitely not by Bosch. He further signals the ’s-Heerenberg version and another version in a Dutch private collection (Arnhem).
Friedländer [1969: 81 (nr. 65)]: the Cologne version is not convincing as original, the Brussels version is a crude 16th-century copy. Both paintings seem to go back to an original Bosch composition.
According to Fraenger [1975: 223-225, original text: 1950] the Cologne version is the last painting that Bosch painted for Jacob van Aelmangien, the sect leader who inspired Bosch. The painting is his (Jacob’s) spiritual epitaph. See also further below.
Cohen [1975: 21-22] considers the Cologne version an excellent copy of a lost Bosch original.
According to Schuder [1975: 117] the shepherd behind the curtain is more curious than respectful. The Brussels version shows some minor differences in the details.
Chailley [1978: 263-266 (nr. 54)] sees several details referring to alchemy and thus to sins and hereticism, in particular the egg (in the Cologne version). All the shepherds (also the one in the upper right corner and the one in the foreground) represent sinful humanity that does not accept Christ. [Chailley’s – elaborate – analysis is a nice specimen of Hineininterpretierung. One example: he interprets the staff of the shepherd in the foreground as some instrument ‘to pick fruit’ and this is said to refer to alchemy which abuses the ‘fruits of religion’ for its own use. But the staff is not an instrument to pick fruit, it simply is a shepherd’s staff…]
Unverfehrt [1980: 100-101 / 256-257 (cat. nrs. 36/36a)] dates the Cologne version ‘1510-1520’ and considers it a copy of a smaller original. The painter of the copy was familiar with Bosch’s technique and style. The Brussels version is a good copy, probably Flemish and produced circa 1530.
Marijnissen [1987: 432-435] classifies the Cologne version among the ‘disputed attributions’. The panel belongs to the sixteenth century. The smiling man in the background is a shepherd. It is not clear whether the bird in the upper right corner is a magpie.
Larsen [1998: 138 (nr. 50)] sees the Cologne version as a copy from circa 1536 of an original Bosch and the Brussels version as another copy, to be dated after 1530.
Stroo and Syfer-d’Olne [2001: 122-129 (nr. 3)] offer a technical and iconographical analysis of the Brussels version. Reminiscences of Bosch’s style justify the hypothesis of a lost prototype by the master for this work and the other versions. The bird on the wall is ‘presumably’ a magpie.
Van Schoute and Verboomen [2001: 196 (nrs. 8a / 8b] mention the Cologne and Brussels versions. The style of the Cologne version is far from Bosch and excludes an attribution to the master.
Vandenbroeck [2002: 314 (nr. 18B)] considers the Cologne and the Brussels versions copies of a lost original.
De Vrij [2012: 502-506 (D.1 / D.1.1-D.1.6)] reports that recent technical analysis [unfortunately, no reference is given, but see Klein 2001: 130, and Vermet 2001: 88] has confirmed that the support of the Cologne version cannot be older than 1560 and that its paintwork must date from the 1570’s at the earliest. The panel of the ’s-Hertogenbosch version is considerably older (circa 1530). The quality of the Cologne version is superior to the other versions, though. De Vrij classifies all versions under ‘compositions developed in the Bosch studio after 1516’.
After all this, it is safe to conclude that most authors see the four paintings discussed here as copies reflecting a lost composition by Bosch, and that the Cologne version is the best of these copies.
ICONOGRAPHY
Except for three details, the iconography of this composition is fairly traditional. In a winter landscape (see the bare trees and the shepherds in the upper left corner who are warming themselves near a fire), agreeing with the date of Christ’s birth (25th December), the Christ Child, lying naked in a stone manger filled with hay and straw, is worshipped by a praying Mary and a modest Joseph. The ox and the donkey are both there, warming the Child with their breath. A third worshipping figure appears from behind a curtain. That he is a shepherd is definitely proven by the staff that he is carrying in his left hand: the small shovel at the end of this staff is meant to throw little stones at stray sheep in order to make them join the flock again. Although the composition is often referred to as an Adoration of the Child or a Nativity, its more appropriate title is Adoration of the Shepherds. This can be derived from the scenes in the upper left and right corners.
In the upper right corner an angel is bringing the Glad Tidings to a shepherd who is guarding his flock of sheep. In the distance we see a village or a small town with a church and a windmill. In the upper left corner two other shepherds are watching over their sheep, whereas two more shepherds have abandoned the flock in order to warm their hands and feet near a fire. It is not unlikely that the designer of the composition intended a contrast between these last two shepherds and the other shepherds in the painting. The ‘bad shepherds’ are not watching over their sheep, they are not worshipping the Christ Child, and they are not paying attention to the angel. The ‘good shepherds’ do at least one of these things. The fire near which the ‘bad shepherds’ are sitting could then refer to the fires of Hell. The two shepherds watching over their sheep in the upper left corner are not represented in the Brussels, ’s-Heerenberg en ’s-Hertogenbosch versions. In fact, this makes the contrast between the shepherds warming themselves and the shepherd addressed by the angel even stronger. The ’s-Hertogenbosch version adds five little angels between Mary and the donkey. They are making music and singing from a book.
Three details are less common: the bird sitting on a wall, the position of Joseph’s right hand, and the gesture made by the Christ Child’s hands.
The bird on the wall
This bird’s presence is so conspicuous that it is bound to have a special meaning. In the Cologne, Brussels, and ’s-Heerenberg versions it seems to be meant as a magpie, in the ’s-Hertogenbosch version the bird’s species is hard to identify. What meaning may a magpie have within the context of an Adoration of the Shepherds? What follows, is only a tentative hypothesis.
One of the miniatures in the Hours of Catherine of Cleves (circa 1440) represents an Adoration of the Child, with Mary and Joseph, and in the background an angel bringing the Glad Tidings to a couple of shepherds [Hours of Catherine of Cleves ed. 1975: nr. 12, Cat. Nijmegen 2009: 240-241 (nr. 49)]. In the left margin we see a belleman (literally: bell-man). A belleman was the official spokesman of medieval cities: by ringing one or more bells he caught the attention of the people, gathering them around him and then making a public announcement. In the book of hours the little belleman figure is obviously meant as a symbolic equivalent of the angel who is announcing the birth of Christ to the shepherds below him.
As is proven by various and multiple sources, the magpie was well-known for its skill to imitate human speech and for its loquacity in the Middle Ages. Admittedly, this was often interpreted in a negative way, but as the bird in the four versions discussed here is sitting very close to the scene in the upper right corner with the angel and the shepherd, it is not unlikely that this magpie is a symbolic equivalent of the angel announcing the birth of Christ as well, not unlike the belleman in Catherine of Cleves’ book of hours. Its message could then be that the birth of Christ should be announced to the whole world. Although negative meanings of the magpie are certainly available (one legend has it that the magpie is black and white because a magpie did not feel sad when Christ was crucified), the position of the magpie in our composition seems to suggest a positive connotation: the bird is quietly watching the Christ Child, it is close to the scene with the angel and far removed from the scene with the ‘bad shepherds’.
Joseph’s ‘Napoleon’ gesture
The ‘Napoleon’ gesture of the St Joseph figure is another remarkable detail of the four versions: Joseph’s right hand is half-hidden underneath his robe. A similar gesture is made by the lazy protagonist of the Sloth scene in the Prado Tabletop with the Seven Deadly Sins, where it seems to refer to the state of melancholy, which in the Middle Ages was closely related to Accidia / Acedia (sloth) [see De Bruyn 1991: 35-36]. However, it is rather unlikely that the position of Joseph’s hand would refer to melancholy, although it is true that his face – in particular in the Cologne version – looks quite pale and emaciated. Perhaps Joseph is just warming his hand, as was suggested by Justi [1889: 128], but why then would he only be warming his right hand? Is it not possible that Joseph’s gesture is to be understood as a parallel to Mary’s praying hands and thus as an expression of adoration and sympathy? Joseph’s left hand is positioned very close to the Christ Child, whereas his right hand is showing where his heart is (literally and figuratively). The combination of both hands would then be the visual equivalent of the verbal expression ‘You are in my heart’.
The hands of the Christ Child
Finally, there is also something special about the hands of the Christ Child. The four fingers of both hands are outstretched and separated but the middle fingers and ring fingers are held together. In 1950 Fraenger was the first to notice this detail. He wrote: Es handelt sich dabei um die uralte Ritualgebärde, womit der höchste Segensspruch des Alten Testaments begleitet wurde, dessen Aussprechung das Vorrecht ‘Aarons und seiner Söhne’, also der hohen Priesterschaft gewesen war, die nach vollbrachten Opfer diese Segensformel mit hocherhobenen Händen zelebrierten (this is the ancient ritual gesture which accompanied the highest blessing of the Old Testament. To pronounce it had been the privilege of ‘Aaron and his sons’, i.e. of the High Priest, who celebrated this blessing formula with his hands raised high after the sacrifice) [Franger 1975: 224]. This is not correct, though, for in the case of the Jewish gesture which Franger is referring to the fingers of the Kohanim (Jewish priests) are indeed outstretched, but the pink and the ring finger are held together, the index finger and middle finger are also held together, and there is a gap between the two pairs of fingers.
During the 2nd International Jheronimus Bosch Conference (’s-Hertogenbosch, Jheronimus Bosch Art Center, 22-25 May, 2007) Edward Cohen delivered a lecture on Views on Jews and religion in paintings by Jerome Bosch. The text of this lecture has never been published, but the typoscript (kindly procured to me by the author in 2007) is lying in front of me.
And I quote (Cohen writes about the Cologne version): A misunderstanding has been created by Fraenger according to whom the Christ Child makes the blessing gesture of the Kohanim in the synagogue. If Fraenger had asked any Jew, visited any Jewish cemetary or looked in any Jewish encyclopedia, he would have drawn a different conclusion. The painted gesture is different: it does not have the meaning of the Jewish benediction but of faith in the divine birth of Christ. Reuterswärd defended Fraenger and stated – correctly so – that the painter could not have seen the gesture in the synagogue since the Kohanim cover their heads and hands with the prayer shawl, emphasising in this way that the personality of those who express the benediction is not relevant, only the benediction itself is. According to Reuterswärd the painter just made a mistake but still meant the same thing. No, he did not. The painter was well aware of what he was doing: he painted a Christian gesture, not a Jewish one. Strangely enough, that particular Christian gesture appears to have been forgotten in the course of the centuries, both by art historians and by Christianity in general. Unquote.
Cohen does not mention that in the thin book on Bosch published by him in 1975 he himself also believed that Bosch had made a mistake and wanted to represent the Jewish gesture made by the Kohen (Jewish priest) [see Cohen 1975: 22], but that is of little importance here and now. It seems that in 2007 Cohen was right and that the hand gesture of the Christ Child in Cologne is indeed a Christian symbolic gesture whose meaning has sunk into oblivion. In a footnote accompanying his text Cohen wrote: The gesture occurs in hundreds – if not thousands – of paintings, and he also gave some further examples, showing that the gesture was internationally known. Below, an overview of some of the most striking ones.
In 2007, Cohen stated that the hand gesture represents ‘faith in the divine birth of Christ’. Unfortunately, he offers neither arguments nor references for this. It is clear, though, that the gesture is bound to have a positive Christian meaning, for it is made by positive Christian figures. The exact meaning of the gesture requires further iconographical research.
AFFINITY WITH BOSCH
A certain stylistic resemblance seems to account for the attribution of this composition to Bosch, and there are no iconographic details speaking against this. It is no coincidence that since the end of the 19th century many authors have related this composition to Bosch, although the vast majority of them agrees that the four versions are only copies. On the other hand, it is impossible to confirm that Bosch was indeed the designer of the composition, as an authentic version is lacking. Furthermore, it is remarkable that the Cologne version, dated very early by some authors (among them Unverfehrt) and generally considered the superior copy, actually has to be dated after 1560, according to Peter Klein’s dendrochronological analysis (see Klein 2001 and Vermet 2001). The possibility remains that the composition was an ‘inventio’ of a Bosch follower.
[explicit 2nd September 2020]
