Beate Böckem, Ruth Hansmann, Matthias Müller, Klaus Weschenfelder
(Hg.)
Apelles am Fürstenhof
Facetten der Hofkunst um 1500 im Alten Reich
Apelles am Fürstenhof is the catalogue for an
exhibition that took place at the Kunstsammlungen der Veste Coburg
in 2010. The exhibition focused on court art and princely representation in the
Holy Roman Empire in the decades around 1500 and on the connections between court production and artistic
identity. The book includes ten scholarly essays on topics related to this larger subject area. They address larger
themes relevant to German court art and provide analysis of specific artists,
courts, and subject matter. The essays are followed by a comprehensive
catalogue of works, organized thematically into eight groups. Detailed entries are included for each work.
The book opens with two essays that explicitly treat the Apelles theme of
the book’s title. Together they provide a comprehensive assessment of the
development and significance of the Apelles legend in German Renaissance art
and humanist culture, particularly as a device for claims of artistic status.
Ulrich Pfisterer’s contribution focuses on the
revival and use of the Apelles legend in the North ca. 1470–1510. He
explores the larger ramifications of the figure of Apelles for the burgeoning
self-awareness of artists, particularly as seen in the »moment of
self-portraiture.« This provides impetus for a
reconsideration of Dürers famous 1500 self-portrait
and artist portrait medallions, notably by Hans Burgkmair.
Beate Böckem’s essay
explores contemporary citations of Jacopo de’ Barbari
as Apelles in the context of his work for court patrons and examines the claims
expressed in his Munich Still Life
by both artist and patron
through its implicit parallel to Apelles’s famed naturalism.
Several other essays in the collection also treat broad themes. Thomas Schauerte addresses the increased stress on German national
identity among humanists during the time of Maximilian I and explores its intersections (and
complications) with art, notably in printed works and artistic
self-presentation during this period, particularly as seen in Dürer. Gabriele Wimböck examines
religious art and »courtly sacral culture,« focusing
on the courts of Munich and Wittenberg around 1500, the role of court artists
in these works, and the intended function of such commissions. She finds a
close connection between religious commissions, princely representation, and
political claims at both courts. Juliane von Firck explores the social standing of court artists before
Maximilian I, focusing
particularly on the Burgundian court and work at
specific locations such as Hesdin and Champmol. The essay examines the meaning of terms such as valet
de chambre at the Burgundian
court and Hofmaler within the Holy
Roman Empire, the residence patterns of court artists, and the variety of tasks
demanded of them.
The remaining essays are more narrowly focused studies of the work of
individual artists in a court context or specific courts. Particular focus is
placed on the Saxon court. Ruth Hansmann focuses on
Cranach’s early work as the Saxon court artist, exploring his range of media
and themes. Cranach is shown to have developed a distinctive court style
through the repeated combination of specific image elements in sacred and
secular images as well as a Saxon portrait type. Matthias Müller
discusses Cranachs court portraiture and its striking
lack of naturalism despite a visual culture that professed to value likeness in
portraiture. Citing contemporary praise of Cranach as highly
mimetic, Müller questions contemporary understandings
of naturalism in court portraiture. The contrast between Cranach’s
highly stylized facial types in
both court portraits and sacred works and far more realistic depictions of
costume is seen to create a distinctive princely style. Jeffrey Chipps Smiths essay provides an analysis of the polemical Cardinal-Fool
medal by Hans Reinhart the Elder, setting his medal production into the
larger context of Saxon politics and Reformation-era polemical imagery.
The remaining two essays expand the focus beyond Germany. Dagmar Eichberger sees Margaret of Austria’s court as a key point
of cultural and artistic exchange between the Holy Roman Empire and the
Southern Netherlands, and notes Margarets
importance as a patron. The essay surveys the range and types of works Margaret
commissioned from her various court artists, notes her interest in collecting
and heightened artistic awareness, and cites the influence of the humanist Jean
Lemaire de Beiges. Ariane Mensengers discussion of Jan Gossaert
sees his work for Philip of Burgundy as decisive in his development as an
artist, particularly in his turn to the antique. Gossaerts
mythological works are seen in light of Netherlandish
humanism, and the essay points to a fundamental
ambivalence between classical sensory pleasure and moralizing tendencies at the
same time that their erotic qualities appealed to the tastes of his patron. The
essay also includes a discussion of humanist praise of Gossaert
and Gossaerts own artistic self-fashioning in light
of antique models.
The essays cohere as a group and provide a concise snapshot of the range of
court activity in this period. The thematic approach taken by the catalogue
allows for a comparative approach across courts. An interesting secondary theme
that develops out of the collection is the range of writings about art and
artists in the North and the development of art theory and artistic awareness
in humanist writings about court artists and among court patrons. Although
catalogue essays are typically fairly restricted in length, it nevertheless
would have been nice to see some of the topics treated in greater depth, given
their richness and the relative brevity of the essays. As the exhibit was
connected to two research groups at the University of Mainz, one hopes that further, more extensive publications will be
forthcoming. There was also a surprising absence of any explicit treatment of
Maximilian I’s patronage in the essays, although his
works were represented in the exhibition.
Apelles am Fürstenhof clearly will be of
interest to those with specialist interests in the various courts represented.
Given the subject and breadth of coverage provided, it will also appeal broadly
to scholars of the Northern Renaissance and to those interested in the larger
subject of Renaissance court production. The book also functions as a reminder
for the need for continued, if not increased consideration of the role of court
production and patronage in the development of art and artistic identity in the
German Renaissance.
Heather Madar,
in: The Sixteenth Century Journal, Vol. XLIII, No. 3 (2012)
Der Name eines der berühmtesten Maler der Antike schmückt den
Katalog- und Aufsatzband zu einer kleinen, aber feinen Ausstellung zu Hofkünstlern
und deren Mäzenen in der Zeit der Renaissance… Jener
Namensgeber, Apelles, war der legendäre Hofmaler Alexander des Großen… Das Wissen um den Rang dieses antiken Hofmalermeisters
drang, zusammen mit dem anspruchsvolleren Selbstbild der italienischen
Künstler, in der Zeit um 1500 in den nordalpinen Raum vor…
Die Rezeption und Wirkung dieses neuen Anspruchs der Renaissancekünstler wird
in zehn Aufsätzen, die sich aus verschiedenen Perspektiven der Thematik nähern,
nachgegangen. Ein anhängender, in acht Teile gegliederter Katalog vollzieht
zuerst das breite Tätigkeitsspektrum der Künstler am Hof nach: »Porträts«,
»Memoria und Frömmigkeit«, »Höfisches Leben«, »Höfische Jagd« sowie das
»Turnier«. Hierbei fällt angenehm der breite und nicht zu stark auf geistliche
Kunst eingeschränkte Blick auf. Es folgen drei Katalogteile, die sich aus dem
neuen Selbstbild der Künstler ergeben. Der künstlerische Austausch, die
mythologischen Geschichtsbilder am Hof, und zu guter Letzt der direkte
Wettstreit mit den antiken Vorbildern und den zeitgenössischen Kollegen werden thematisiert…
Trotz der umfassenden älteren und aktuellen Forschung zu den Genannten gelingt
dem Band hier durch einen Blickwechsel etwas Neues. Es wird die enge Verbindung
zwischen humanistischer Antikenrezeption und dem nach außen getragenen
Selbstverständnis der Künstler detailliert belegt. Damit wird zugleich die
humanistische Bewegung, die sonst in Kunst-, Architektur- und
Wissenschaftsgeschichte etc. aufgespalten wird, wieder als ein
Ganzes verstanden.
Nicht immer gelingt dem Band eine stringente Eingliederung der Aufsätze in
dieses Konzept. So ist im Gegensatz zu Hans Burgkmair der Medailleur Hans
Reinhart kaum als begünstigter Hofkünstler zu bezeichnen. Solche Abweichungen
von der großen Linie können aber auch von Vorteil sein. So kommen in den
Aufsätzen kritische Stimmen zu Wort, die helfen, das Konzept des Apellesgleichen Hofkünstlers einzuordnen. Es wird z.B.
darauf hingewiesen, dass sich das Aufgabenfeld der Künstler am Hof und deren
Tätigkeit für das städtische Milieu vor und nach 1500 kaum unterschieden.
Lediglich Rang und Anspruch einiger(!) der bedeutendsten Künstler wurden
gesteigert. Auch auf das Scheitern von Teilen des humanistischen Ideals wird am
Beispiel eingegangen. Als gelungen ist auch das Aufgreifen
der naheliegenden Kritik an humanistischen Lobgesängen über »Realitätsnähe« und
»Lebendigkeit« von Gemälden zu bezeichnen.
Hierbei scheint es jedoch zu kurz gegriffen, die im Gegensatz zur Kleidung
offensichtlich nach einem Grundschema angefertigten, oft
wenig variablen Gesichtszüge nur mit dem anderen Geschmack der Zeit zu
begründen. Trotz des treffenden Beispiels eines zu realitätsnahen Porträts
Dürers von Kaiser Maximilian sollte man hier die Porträtsituation, die einen
stundenlang still sitzenden Porträtierten erforderte, stärker einbeziehen.
Einige kleinere Fehler haben sich in die Beschreibung der Abbildungen
eingeschlichen: So dient ein Biber neben einer nackten Quellnymphe nicht nur
der Einbettung der mythischen Figur in die höfische Jagdwelt, sondern ist
zugleich eine – in diesem Aktbild nur milde wirkende – Mahnung zur
Enthaltsamkeit. Mit den »meißnischen Schwertern« in Wappendarstellungen sind
natürlich sächsische Kurschwerter gemeint, wie
andernorts korrekt angegeben wird.
Solche Kritikpunkte können aber nicht den Blick auf die Leistung dieses
Katalog- und Ausstellungsbandes verstellen, die in einer durchaus innovativen
Sicht auf die Beziehung zwischen den Hofkünstlern der Renaissance, ihren Mäzenen und dem Humanismus liegt.
Thomas Lang, in: Neues Archiv für
sächsische Geschichte 83 (2012)
Dominated by the figure of Albrecht Dürer in his hometown of Nuremberg, German art of the
sixteenth century is often discussed through its urban centers.
Recently, however, the return to scholarly prominence of Lucas Cranach at the
Saxon court (esp. in the 2009 Berlin exhibition, cited, Cranach und die Kunst der Renaissance unter den Hohenzollern, reviewed in this journal
November 2010) has helped to redress this emphasis and has sparked needed
attention to court artists in the language region. In addition, this thoughtful
exhibition and its informative catalogue essays consider such court culture
more broadly across northern Europe – they take note of strong Habsburg
linkages that connect the principal German rulers and their own capitals to Netherlandish courts (see especially essays by Dagmar Eichberger on Margaret of Austria and by Ariane Mensger on Jan Gossart, whose concurrent New York-London exhibition
prevented cross-references). Moreover, the Venetian artist Jacopo de’ Barbari freely ranged among all of these courts, as the
much-needed essay by Beate Böckem
reminds us. One crucial shaping element is missing here, however: the court in
Buda of Matthias Corvinus (d. 1490), complete with
important Italian artists and humanists (cf. Péter Farbaky, Enikö Spekner, Katalin Szende, András Végh, eds., Matthias Corvinus,
the King. Tradition and Renewal in the Hungarian Royal Court,
1458-1490, exh.
cat, Budapest, 2008).
The name in the title refers, of course, to the
learned conceit of Apelles, court painter to Alexander the Great, a
complimentary comparison bestowed on many of the artists featured at Coburg. The introductory essay by Ulrich Pfisterer addresses the learned discourse on the artist in
the North, which began around 1500 in the circles of Dürer
and poet laureate Conrad Celtis. The essay also
measures both Dürer and Hans Burgkmair
against the model of Apelles in their respective roles as court artists. In
addition, their designation as a »second Apelles« reinforced confident
self-assertion by German artists and sometimes inspired self-portraiture,
especially Dürer’s renowned image in 1500.
As Pfisterer notes, Apelles (with Zeuxis) even
appeared in the lunettes of the Italian Salon of the Residenz
of the Bavarian dukes at Landshut (c. 1542/43; cf. Brigitte Langer and
Katharina Heinemann, »Ewig blühe
Bayerns Land«. Herzog Ludwig X und die Renaissance, exh. cat. Landshut, 2009, pp. 120ff.). Böckem’s Barbari essay also establishes how much the model of
Apelles helped to shape that artist’s appeal (cf. his letter of 1500/01; cat.
no. 2.3.06) to his several princely patrons: Emperor Maximilian, Archduke
Frederick the Wise, and (in Eichberger’s
complementary essay) Margaret of Austria. Thomas Schauerte, building on his own wonderful earlier
exhibition, Albrecht Dürer. Das grosse Glück (Osnabrück, 2002), reinforces the role played in the
humanist circles of both Maximilian and Dürer by
Conrad Celtis, imperial poet laureate, in promoting a
new nationalism at the outset of the new century. Schauerte
also notes – as previous neglect of this topic shows through its very silence –
how narrow were those circles and how separate from the dominant mass of
contemporary religious art in Germany.
Another major learned tribute to patrons, scholars, and artists alike in the
period was the portrait (often a profile) medal, particularly in the oeuvre of
Hans Schwarz in Augsburg but also the Vischer
workshop in Nuremberg, complemented in woodcuts by Hans Burgkmair
(e.g. of Celtis) in Augsburg. Artists, too, were
sometimes honored: Schwarz fashioned a medal of Burgkmair in 1518; Dürer also
received a profile woodcut tribute by Erhard Schön
(ca. 1528; woodblock, Princeton Art Museum). Additionally, Jeffrey Chipps Smith’s essay publishes later (c. 1535-44) court
medals in Saxony by Hans Reinhart, which show imagery to promote the Lutheran
faith of that court.
The real center of this exhibition remains Cranach,
whose tasks and honors are discussed by Ruth Hansmann, and whose religious art, along with the Munich Wittelsbachs, informs the essay by Gabriele Wimböck. Cranach’s portraits, a surprisingly neglected
topic, often cemented princely alliances; Matthias Müller
focuses on their tension between likenesses and stylized costume pieces.
Portraits also form the first main segment of the catalogue of works on
display.
Much of the remainder of the imagery of the exhibition concentrates on court
life and activities, such as hunts and tournaments. Promotion of learning,
including history and genealogy, and references to classical topics also
prompted several display topics. This more general approach to courtly
assignments, tied to the status of the court artist, is discussed in the final
essay by Juliane von Fircks,
who traces the status, titles, and roles of artists at varying courts, reaching
back to Bohemia of Charles IV in the fourteenth century and the dukes of
Burgundy across the fifteenth century.
Epitomizing all these converging concerns of portraits, courtly actions, and
symbols of these court roles, the final image in the exhibition, Hans Daucher’s 1522 Berlin relief (no. 2.3.11) shows two main
profile portraits within a staged allegory. Within his camp, the late (d. 1519)
Emperor Maximilian, dressed in robes and wearing the collar of the Order of the
Golden Fleece, witnesses a jousting victory of a militant Albrecht Dürer, as the artist vanquishes the male personification of
Envy. While unlike Apelles, Dürer did not have
exclusive rights to portray his sovereign, he did memorably take a 1518 chalk
portrait drawing, which served as the basis of both paintings and a memorial
woodcut of the emperor (colored; no. 1.1.07). Along
with Frederick the Wise (also the subject of Dürer
portraits in paint and engraving, besides those by Cranach) and their
respective political networks, Maximilian stands at the center
of these displayed images.
Taken together, this catalogue offers many synoptic visions and insights,
though some essays are tantalizingly brief and not fully coordinated in their
potential dialogues. They also vary widely in their ambitions and in their
documentation – from the focused study by Chipps
Smith to the broad historical sketch of von Fircks.
The bibliography has already proved useful to this reader; however, as a few of
the citations added above reveal, some notable recent scholarly omissions
(including Anglophone studies) could have enhanced the already great value of
this wide-ranging, ambitious contribution.
Larry Silver, in: Historians of the Netherlandish Art, University
of Pennsylvania