Ghent Altarpiece
Yet, while generations of art historians have attempted to attribute specific passages to either brother, no convincing separation has been established;[3] it may be that Jan finished panels begun by Hubert.
The altarpiece was commissioned by the merchant and Ghent mayor Jodocus Vijd and his wife Lysbette as part of a larger project for the Saint Bavo Cathedral chapel.
The merchant Jodocus Vijd, then Mayor of Ghent, and his wife Lysbette commissioned the altarpiece as part of a larger development project for the Saint Bavo Cathedral chapel.
[5] The original, very ornate carved outer frame and surround, presumably harmonizing with the painted tracery, was destroyed during the Reformation; it may have included clockwork mechanisms for moving the shutters and even playing music.
Attribution to the van Eyck brothers is supported by the small amount of surviving documentary evidence attached to the commission, and from Jan's signature and dating on a reverse frame.
Allowing a seasoning time of at least 10 years, art historians assume a completion date well after Hubert's death in 1426, thus ruling out his hand from large portions of the wings.
The figures are mostly cast with short, diagonal shadows which serve to, in the words of art historian Till-Holger Borchert, "not only heighten their spatial presence, but also tell us that the primary light source is located beyond the picture itself.
The presence of the two groups on either side of the Deësis reflects a by-then well-established motif in representations of the heavens opening: that of musical accompaniment provided by celestial beings.
They are sexless and possess cherub faces, which contrast with the realistic depictions of the other full-sized non-divine females in the work; Eve in the same register[13] and Lysbette Borluut in the outer panels.
Comparing the Limbourg's Eve to a classical female nude, Kenneth Clark observed that "her pelvis is wider, her chest narrower, her waist higher; above all there is the prominence given to her stomach".
The weight-bearing leg is concealed, and the body is so contrived that on one side is the long curve of the stomach, on the other the downward sweep of the thigh, uninterrupted by any articulation of bone or muscle.
The antependium on the upper portion of the front of the altar is inscribed with the words taken from John 1:29; ECCE AGNUS DEI QUI TOLLIT PECCATA MUNDI ("Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world").
[45] A dove, representing the Holy Spirit, hovers low in the sky directly above the lamb, surrounded by concentric semicircles of white and yellow hues of varying luminosity, the outermost of which appear like nimbus clouds.
The light does not give reflection or throw shadow,[46] and has traditionally been read by art historians as representing the New Jerusalem of Revelation which in 21:23, had "no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it; for the glory of God did Lighten it".
[50] Yet the panel does not strive for exact realism; the sum of the forensically detailed natural elements, in combination with the apparition of the Holy Spirit and extended beams of light, serve to create a wholly individual and uniquely creative interpretation of a classic biblical scene.
[51] The figures directly to the left of the fountain represent witnesses from the Old Testament;[45] dressed in pink robes, kneeling, reading aloud from open copies of the Bible, facing the mid-ground with backs turned to the viewer.
Although the judge in the Ghent panel appears to be younger than the sitter in the London painting, they wear similar chaperons with the cornette tightly bound around the bourrelet.
[64] To the right the Cumaean Sibyl's reads REX ALTISSIMUS ADVENIET PER SECULA FUTURUS SCILICET IN CARNE ("The Highest King shall come and shall be in the flesh through the ages").
[66] Micah's lunette employs one of the first instances of an illusionistic motif best known from Petrus Christus's Portrait of a Carthusian (c.1446), wherein the sense of the boundary between the painting, frame and viewer's space becomes blurred.
In January, they met the King in the castle of Aviz, and van Eyck painted the Infanta's portrait, probably in two versions, to accompany the two separate groups who left by sea and by land on 12 February to report the terms to the Duke.
[67] In the mid-20th century, art historian Volker Herzner noted the facial similarity between the Cumaean Sibyl and Philip's wife Isabella of Portugal, especially as she is portrayed in van Eyck's lost 1428–29 betrothal portrait.
[D] Herzner speculated that the text in the banderole in the sibyl's panel has a double meaning, referring not only to the coming of Christ but also to the 1432 birth of Philip's first son and heir to survive infancy.
[12] The sparseness of these narrow panels seems anomalous in the overall context of the altarpiece; a number of art historians have suggested that they were compromises worked out by Jan as he struggled to accommodate his design within the original framework set out by Hubert.
Art historians agree that this follows the conventions of both the International Gothic and late Byzantine traditions of the icon by showing saints, especially Mary, in a much larger scale than their surroundings.
The Florentine annunciations have a number of iconographic similarities to the Ghent panels, including Gabriel's multi-colored wings, the upside-down writing, the treatment of light beams, and the separation between angel and virgin by a thin architectural feature.
[74] Borchert sees this familiar setting as a device to allow 15th-century viewers to connect with the panel and so reinforce the conceit that the two saints are apparitions occupying the same space and time as the donor or observer.
John the Baptist, the son of the priest Zechariah (not to be confused with the prophet of the same name shown on the upper register), holds a lamb in his left arm and is turned towards Joost Vijdt.
[87] Comprising a strip of small square panels[88] and executed in water based paints, it showed hell or limbo with Christ arriving to redeem those about to be saved.
The painting was stored in a museum in Pau for the duration of the war, with French, Belgian and German military representatives signing an agreement which required the consent of all three before the masterpiece could be moved.
[96] Following the war, in 1945, the altarpiece was recovered by the Allied group Monuments, Fine Arts, and Archives program[F] and returned to Belgium in a ceremony presided over by Belgian royalty at the Royal Palace of Brussels, where the 17 panels were displayed for the press.
