The Lenten Season is officially upon us, embodied by a spirit of reflection and repentance leading to the Celebration of Easter on April 16th. As there is an undeniable influence of Christian theology on the history of art, every Sunday of Lent we will explore art with distinctly Christian themes in a methodology known as visual theology. Some posts will contain brief biographical, iconographic and/or formal analysis as well. The Gospel: written by man through divine inspiration as the living Word of God. For centuries, the Church has been focused on the divine origins of the holy Bible, even creating an entire artistic genre to represent the process. Most artistic representations of these inspirations were formulaic, until one artist provided a spark of life that shook the very foundations of the artistic tradition. Baroque painter, Caravaggio, challenged the centuries old formula of depicting the divine inspiration of the Gospels, while returning to the theological importance behind capturing the Word of God. His provocative interpretation, however, was met with harsh criticisms within the Church. Although adhering closely to traditional Biblical exegesis, Caravaggio's first Inspiration of Saint Matthew, Saint Matthew and the Angel, was rejected for failing to conjure an image that properly embodied the ideals of the Counter-Reformation. The Inspiration of Saint Matthew was painted for the Contarelli Chapel in the Roman church of San Luigi dei Francesi. Named after its patron, Cardinalate Matteo Contarelli, the chapel had a tumultuous history filled with a deceased patron, involvement of the papacy, lawsuits and several artists leaving incomplete works in the forty years prior to Caravaggio’s involvement. As a relative unknown artist who had yet to prove himself publicly, Caravaggio was approached by Virgilio Crescenzi, the heir of the deceased Cardinalate Contarelli, to paint two lateral narrative scenes on Saint Matthew for the chapel. A contract was signed on July 23, 1599 for a price of 400 scudi and Caravaggio promised to deliver two monumental paintings. Nearly a year later, Caravaggio finished the two paintings, The Calling of St. Matthew and The Martyrdom of Saint Matthew; his artistic genius became infamous. Caravaggio’s reputation was set and he developed into the most sought after artist in Rome. The Contarelli Chapel was the spark that ignited the light of Caravaggio’s career. His paintings were so well received that two years later, when Flemish artist Jacques Cobaert’s unfinished sculpture of St. Matthew for the chapel’s altar was finally installed and abruptly removed less than a month later, he was the first choice to create the new replacement. So on February 7, 1602, Caravaggio signed a contract for 150 scudi to paint an altarpiece of a seated Saint Matthew receiving divine inspiration from an angel. The painting was to be completed by May 23 of the same year, in time for Pentecost. Less than three months later Caravaggio produced his first Inspiration of Saint Matthew. Titled: Saint Matthew and the Angel, Caravaggio created a masterpiece of divine humanization that continues to be one of the most controversial paintings of his prolific career. Caravaggio’s Saint Matthew and the Angel embodies his mastery of creating tangible relationships with the divine. Matthew sits on the left cross-legged at a desk as an angel stands before him to the right guiding his hands as they write the Hebrew that appears upon the page. Eyebrows raised and forehead wrinkled, the Evangelist stares in amazement as the ancient text appears before him. When the painting was rejected it was immediately acquired by Marchese Giustiniani for his private collection. Sadly, it eventually ended up in Berlin and was destroyed during of the allied bombings of 1945. There are no commentaries that describe the colors of Caravaggio’s masterpiece. All that remain are black and white photographs and their color enhanced counterparts. Regardless, his characteristic exaggerated form of chiaroscuro, commonly referred to as tenebrism, creates striking contrasts of light and shadow cast upon Matthew and (slightly so) upon the angel. This intense handling of shading and lighting enhances the sculptural qualities of both figures, reinforcing their three-dimensional forms. One can almost grab Matthew’s foot as it appears to project forward from within the canvas towards the viewer. Figural appearance is essential to understanding Caravaggio’s provocative and unique artistic style, and never more so than within Saint Matthew and the Angel. While the androgynous angel is soft and ethereal as any heavenly being should be, Caravaggio’s depiction of Matthew is quite unconventional. The saint resembles a 17th century Italian peasant with his bare feet and gnarled beard. What is captured so beautifully within Saint Matthew is a key reason why the Church rejected the painting. Caravaggio created a saint that is both tangible and identifiable; he humanized the sacred. Although Caravaggio was criticized for such a blasphemous image of Saint Matthew, his depiction of the Evangelist adheres closely to biblical tradition. Biblical descriptions of the apostles portray men who lived on the fringes of society. After their calling and turn to discipleship, Christ urged them to give up all possessions and live off the generosity of others as they spread the Good News. Matthew and the other apostles were not men of means, or classical scholars as centuries old tradition has chosen to depict them. Rather, they were humble first century Jews seeking the treasures of God’s Kingdom, not the Earth’s. As a result, Matthew is an early Christian whose life transcends space and time allowing him to relate to Caravaggio’s 17th century audience as much as first Century Jews and Gentiles. Therefore, in his first depiction of the Evangelist in Saint Matthew and the Angel, Caravaggio creates a saint that “emphasizes the historical roots of the church, its universality and its tradition.” Matthew’s relatability and humility is further emphasized in his childlike wonder at the divine inspiration that surrounds him. Caravaggio clearly depicts Matthew in a state of awe and wonder as “divine revelation ends his earthly ignorance.” His form emerges from the shadows into the light as he too, emerges from the shadows of ignorance. Humility and divine inspiration go hand in hand as Matthew expresses a childlike earnestness to receive God’s Word. He becomes the living embodiment of Christ’s words: “Therefore, whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” Caravaggio reveals that the greatness of Matthew lies not in his wealth, rank or scholarly pursuits, but rather in his willingness to humble himself before God and achieve divine wisdom through his acceptance of earthly ignorance. Therefore, the angel is not an indication of Matthew’s illiteracy, but his readiness to be a vessel for God. In addition, this stresses the divine origin of the Hebrew text and Matthew’s gospel. Saint Matthew and the Angel is more than just a painting depicting the inspiration of Matthew’s Gospel; it is an allegory for a relationship with the divine, with God. Caravaggio “makes the supernatural actual and establishes a direct rapport between the scene and the spectator to identify with the mystery being portrayed.” Yet, the Catholic Church did not view Caravaggio’s revolutionary depiction in such esteemed light. They criticized his painting, as have many throughout the centuries for not only going against decorum, but for being inherently blasphemous. The first Inspiration of Saint Matthew met immediate criticism. Matthew’s “gross and vulgar appearance [was] matched only by his illiteracy.” The dawn of the 17th century was the height of the Counter-reformation for the Catholic Church. If they were going to be chastised by Protestants for their religious imagery, especially of the saints, then all religious paintings were required give to the proper reverence and glory necessary to justify representations of the divine. Saint Matthew and the Angel did not meet those requirements. While Caravaggio emphasized the humble means of the Evangelist, an interpretation consistent with the Bible, Matthew was traditionally treated as a scholarly man of letters. Therefore, his apparent illiteracy read like an insult as Matthew appeared to “struggle with the ‘difficult’ task of writing.” In addition, Caravaggio’s humanist depiction of the saint was not viewed as touching or even relatable, but terribly ‘uncouth.’ Most off-putting of all was not Matthew’s bulbous head, or rough exterior, but his bare feet. That Caravaggio “brought a peasant’s soiled foot into the vicinity of the priest’s hands as he elevated the Host during mass” was revolting. Several critics believe, however, that Caravaggio was not depicting a dirty bare-foot ‘country bumpkin,’ but Socrates as he had been portrayed within Raphael’s School of Athens. The philosopher was known for walking barefoot and claiming the acknowledgment of ignorance as the source of his wisdom. Nonetheless, whatever Caravaggio’s inspiration, it was unacceptable to grace the altar of the Contarelli Chapel. Moreover, the disheveled appearance of Matthew made the physical contact between the divine being and the Evangelist vulgar. An angel would never have made such contact with this individual. Despite the disparaging differences in theological perspectives that lead to the ultimate rejection of Caravaggio’s painting, one complaint was purely aesthetic. Caravaggio’s Calling of St. Matthew and Martyrdom of Saint Matthew were completed two years prior to the first Inspiration. Therefore, the Church intended for their Matthews to be consistent in their physical depictions. While Matthew’s face is consistent between the two lateral paintings, the Matthew of the Inspiration appeared to be an entirely different individual. Caravaggio’s patrons sought consistency. While the Church failed to see the biblically inspired humility of Caravaggio’s Saint Matthew and the Angel, there was a key theological component that ensured the painting’s refusal. The original commission called for divine inspiration. Although the Bible is the living word of God, it was ultimately written by man. Caravaggio’s first Inspiration appears to removes all autonomy from Matthew as the angel is directly controlling the written word. This can be interpreted allegorically as the divine pouring into and working through Matthew, but contemporary beliefs were that the angel was dictating Matthew's writings. Therefore, in an effort to emphasize St. Matthew’s humility and relationship with God, Caravaggio made the heavenly relationship too tangible. Thus, focusing on the painting’s aesthetic shortcomings in light of the current challenges the Catholic Church was facing during the Counter-Reformation, Caravaggio’s Saint Matthew and the Angel could not hang in the altar of the Contarelli Chapel. Since Caravaggio’s first Inspiration of Saint Matthew “pleased no one,” he was forced to make a decision. There was a special clause to the contract he signed stating, “If for any reason the Church’s abbott rejected the painting, the artist agreed to pay for a replacement.” Rather than pay for another artist to have their work hang inside Contarelli’s altar beside his artwork, Caravaggio opted to paint a replacement. After changing his painting to meet the desires of the Church and reflect a greater adherence to traditional renderings of the subject, Caravaggio’s second version of the Inspiration of Saint Matthew was accepted by the Church and subsequently hung in the altar. It was finished prior to the May 23rd deadline and still hangs in the Contarelli Chapel today. Upon completing his second Inspiration of Saint Matthew, Caravaggio became the most sought after painter in Italy. His lifestyle caught up with him several years later when he was involved in a duel outside of Rome in 1606 that resulted in the death of another man. He was condemned as a murderer and a bando capitale was decreed. A bounty was placed upon his head and anyone within the Papal States had the right to kill him. Only his head was needed to claim the bounty. Caravaggio roamed from Malta, Sicily and Naples for the next four years, eventually dying in the small town of Porto Ercole while racing to track down a boat that held three of his paintings. According to the terms set by Scipione Borghese, the paintings were to serve as the price of his bounty and allow for his return to Rome. Despite living a brief life plagued by controversy and consumed with the profane, Caravaggio was an artistic genius responsible for painting some of the Western world’s most theologically profound works of art. Although what the Church wanted for the Contarelli Chapel varied greatly from what Caravaggio depicted, his first Inspiration, Saint Matthew and the Angel, portrayed a saint that is the Christian ideal of humility and a symbol of divine grace. Just as Christ was rejected for not embodying the image of a Jewish king, Caravaggio’s Saint Matthew and the Angel was rejected for failing to portray Matthew as the ideal of sainthood. Yet, Caravaggio understood what the Church did not. “And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.” Caravaggio’s first Matthew is not a king, a noble or a scholar; he is a simple man who has received divine inspiration for he has chosen to humbly walk beside his God. Chorpenning, Joseph F. "Another Look at Caravaggio and Religion." Artibus et Historiae 8, no.
16 (1987): 149-158. Accessed April 17, 2012. http://www.jstor.org/stable/1483305. Graham-Dixon,Andrew. Caravaggio: A Life Sacred and Profane. New York: Penguin, 2010. Hess, Jacob. "The Chronology of the Contarelli Chapel." The Burlington Magazine 93, no. 579 (1951): 186-201. Accessed April 17, 2012. http://www.jstor.org/stable/870607. Lavin, Irving. "Divine Inspiration in Caravaggio's Two St. Matthews." The Art Bulletin 56 (1974): 59-81. Accessed April 17, 2012. http://www.jstor.org/stable/3049196. Lavin, Irving. "A Further Note on the Ancestry of Caravaggio's First Saint Matthew." The Art Bulletin 62 (1980): 118-119. Accessed April 17, 2012. http://www.jstor.org/stable/3049964. Spike, John T. Caravaggio. New York: Abbeville Press, 2001. Thomas, Troy. "Expressive Aspects of Caravaggio's First Inspiration of Saint Matthew." The Art Bulletin 67, no. 4 (1985): 636-652. Accessed April 17, 2012. http://www.jstor.org/stable/3050848. Vodret, Rossella. Caravaggio: The Complete Works. Milan: Silvana Editoriale Spa, 2010.
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The Lenten Season is officially upon us, embodied by a spirit of reflection and repentance culminating in the Celebration of Easter on April 16th. As there is an undeniable influence of Christian theology on the history of art, every Sunday of Lent we will explore art with distinctly Christian themes in a methodology known as visual theology. Some posts will contain brief biographical, iconographic and/or formal analysis as well. "And the Lord said, “What have you done? Listen; your brother’s blood is crying out to me from the ground! And now you are cursed from the ground, which has opened its mouth to receive your brother’s blood from your hand. When you till the ground, it will no longer yield to you its strength; you will be a fugitive and a wanderer on the earth.” Cain said to the Lord, “My punishment is greater than I can bear! Today you have driven me away from the soil, and I shall be hidden from your face; I shall be a fugitive and a wanderer on the earth...” -GENESIS 4:10-14 Human suffering finds its origins in the Fall. From the moment Adam and Eve tasted of the forbidden fruit, humanity was cursed to a life separated from God filled with pain and turmoil. Cain becomes the embodiment of this curse as the unfavored first child of the fallen Adam and Eve and the murderer of his brother Abel. His path leads east of Eden, towards the desolate land of his desolate future. Cain has forsaken his God; he is the fallen of the fallen. This is the man captured in Fernand Cormon's 1880 large-scale oil painting: Cain. Created for the Paris Salon of 1880, Cain depicts the son of Adam and Eve many years after his divine punishment. It was originally entitled Cain Flying Before Jehovah's Curse and accompanied with a reading from Victor Hugo's poem Conscience: “When with his children clothed in animal skins Disheveled, livid, buffeted by the storms Cain fled from Jehovah, In the fading light, the grim man came To the foot of a mountain in a vast plain…” Cain is shown leading his family through an arid land, perpetually wandering as his curse declares. The sun bears down on their backs and the figural shadows are lengthened "as if the light of truth were pursuing the guilty through the bleak plain.”[i] The figures are depicted as weary travelers carrying only each other or their meager food stores. The painting's muted neutral palette and dusty gray sky create a bleak and desolate landscape; there is no refuge in sight. Painted in the Academic style, Cain is a close study of the human form rendered with anatomical accuracy. Every muscle and hair painted upon the canvas serve to reinforce the sadness and brutal tragedy of their lives. The painting has a largely horizontal orientation as figures stretch across the canvas, "the fear of Jehovah's sentence written on every face." [ii] A destitute man, Cain no longer looks up towards the heavens for refuge, he can only move onwards fleeing God's punishment. Hebrews 11:4 states, "By faith, Abel brought God a better offering than Cain did," [iii] implying it was Cain's pride that caused God's refusal of his sacrifice. Cormon's Cain is stripped of all pride or glory. Even the land he walks upon is cursed. "The earth itself denies him its fruit and instead forces him and his family to a carnivorous life. Cain will never be able to stay...anywhere to plant, let alone harvest, a crop." [iv] There is no hope or respite for Cain and his family in Cormon's painting.
Cormon depicts the subjects of Cain like cretinous humans of a prehistoric era. During the 19th century, our prehistoric ancestors were viewed as nothing but ignorant humans only surviving off of their most primal instincts living lives filled with turmoil. Therefore, such a depiction is highly symbolic of the painter's message. Doing so, Cormon declares that all human suffering is a direct result of our ignorance and this spiritual separation from our creator. Unless we seek to heal this separation through a newly restored relationship with God, we, too, will resemble the perpetually wandering Cain through the desert, living out our lives in despair without Jehovah's direction or Christ's salvation. Additional Images Figure 1 Figure 2 I[i] "Fernand Cormon Cain," Musée d'Orsay, accessed March 8, 2017, http://www.musee-orsay.fr/en/collections/works-in-focus/search/commentaire_id/cain-8826.html.
[ii] Ibid. [iii] Hebrews 11:4, NIV. [iv] Hunt, Patrick, "Cormon's Cain Flees the Curse," Electrum Magazine, August 27, 2015, Accessed March 7, 2017, http://www.electrummagazine.com/2015/08/cormons-cain-flees-the-curse/. The Lenten Season is officially upon us, embodied by a spirit of reflection and repentance culminating in the Celebration of Easter on April 16th. As there is an undeniable influence of Christian theology on the history of art, every Sunday of Lent we will explore art with distinctly Christian themes in a methodology known as visual theology. Some posts will contain brief biographical, iconographic and/or formal analysis as well. This week is dedicated to the parable of the Good Samaritan: a story (and its imagery) indelibly tied to Jesus' story of sacrifice and salvation. "Just then a lawyer stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he said, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” He said to him, “What is written in the law? What do you read there?” He answered, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.” And he said to him, “You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live.” But wanting to justify himself, he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” Jesus replied, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead. Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan while traveling came near him; and when he saw him, he was moved with pity. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, having poured oil and wine on them. Then he put him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii, gave them to the innkeeper, and said, ‘Take care of him; and when I come back, I will repay you whatever more you spend.’ Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” He said, “The one who showed him mercy.” Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.” LUKE 10: 25-37 The Good Samaritan, located in Luke 10: 25-37, is one of the most powerful parables within the Gospels. When asked how to inherit eternal life, Jesus responds with, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.” He then proceeds to elaborate on what constitutes one’s neighbor. Jesus tells the story of a man who left Jerusalem only to be beaten and robbed. He was passed over by both a priest and a Levite before a Samaritan, a then despised people among the Jews, stopped to help the destitute man. The Samaritan bandaged the man's wounds, gave him clothing and found him shelter at a nearby inn, even paying for his lodgings. Ultimately, the despised Samaritan best exemplified the image of love and mercy Jesus preached to his followers. With love and mercy also being the crux of Christ's Message, it is not surprising that this parable is found in Gothic churches throughout Europe or became the subject of numerous religious paintings. We will look at three examples of stained glass windows found within the gothic cathedrals of Chartres, Bourges and Sens and examine how they build upon one another theologically. There will also be brief discussion on The Good Samaritan by Aime-Nicolas Morot painted in 1880. What these works serve to highlight is the evolving nature of the parable thematically. While the Good Samaritan is often viewed as a beautiful story reinforcing how we should love our neighbor’s. The discussed artists, however, have reshaped the parable of the Good Samaritan to tell a different message: how Christ paid for our sins to renew a broken covenant. Of the three stained-glass windows, Chartes is the most simplistic in its theological message. As the images of the traveling man and Samaritan run down the center of the window, the outside is filled with images from the Old Testament. It chronicles the Fall and expulsion of Adam and Eve, but takes the Genesis story even further by concluding with the death of Abel by Cain. The ending to the Old Testament sections are quite bleak. They continue to reiterate our separation from God as a result of the Fall by highlighting the destructive acts of the Fallen. Yet, rather than continuing to live in this separation we are reunited with him and rescued. Our life is the road to Jericho; we chose to leave Eden and live among thieves, but we have been saved. The connection is not explicit as it will be illustrated through the windows of Bourges and Sens, but the window is ultimately stating that the parable of the Good Samaritan is an allegory for our return to a relationship with God.Bourges presents a far more complex theological message with its stained glass representation of the Good Samaritan. The window also parallels Genesis alongside that of the parable, but it additionally draws upon the story of Moses and the Crucifixion in order to create a clearer and more profound storyline. Paired together in the top quatrefoil are the man leaving Jerusalem with the Creation of Adam and Eve by God. These are indicative of the beginning, when humanity was still in relationship with God. This is followed by the temptation of Adam and Eve alongside the man being attacked on the road by thieves and the very similar scene of the expulsion with the man being stripped and robbed of his possessions. Both of these quatrefoils are showcasing the same point: that the moment of the man's journey parallels the moment humanity was tempted in the Garden and was ultimately cast of Eden. This is the lowest point in the man's journey as well as one of the lowest points for humanity in the Bible. Yet, mankind's disgrace continues as the window pairs Moses and the creation of the golden calf with the priest and Levite passing the beaten man. Just as Moses was provided with the Law to redeem mankind from the Fall in the garden, the priest and Levite were given the opportunity to grant the man mercy. Yet, both fail as they turn their backs on God by turning their backs on their neighbor. Bourges does not end as bleakly as Chartres, however, and provides a final quatrefoil of redemption and grace. The Samaritan, who closely resembles a glorified Christ, rescues the man and brings him safely home towards the inn keeper. Strikingly placed with these images is the representation of Christ on the cross--saving man kind mind from sin, the ultimate symbol of God's mercy. Similar to Chartres, Bourges illustrates the results of humanity's separation from God. The window brings it to a more satisfying conclusion, however, by finishing the narrative with Christ's death on the Cross. It is only through Christ's death that we can finally return to a relationship with God. Thus, it is highly intentional that the Samaritan resembles Christ, for he is the one leading us away from the life among thieves back to the inn, symbolic of his Church: our place of salvation and restoration . He paid for our sins just as the Samaritan paid the innkeeper. Although Bourges provides a much more complete theological message than the window of Chartres, its attempts to create multiple parallels unintentionally weakens its powerful message. Therefore, this is why--theologically--Sens has the strongest of all three Good Samaritan Windows. The Good Samaritan window at Sens abbreviates the parable to its absolute essentials, while still expanding upon the stories from the Old Testament and Crucifixion. At the very top of the window is a holy city, symbolic of heavenly Jerusalem and the city the man leaves while setting out on the road to Jericho. Once again, the story of the Good Samaritan runs through the center of the window as parallels are drawn around it. First are the creation, temptation and expulsion, which are all, paired with the man being attacked on the road by thieves. The parallel is the same as it was in the other windows, but is stronger and more concise by keeping the beating/robbery with both the temptation and the Expulsion. Moses and the golden calf are again are paired with the priest and Levite continuing commentary on mankind's fall from grace as the holy men destroy their second chance at relationship with God. Sens concludes with a fuller description of the Passion and crucifixion with the Samaritan rescuing the beaten man and taking him safely to the inn. This time, the beaten man, rather than the Samaritan, heavily resembles Christ, but the overall theological implications are still similar. The most striking difference is the angel at the crucifixion. He is the same angel barring the gates of Eden following the expulsion of Adam and Eve. Yet, now his sword is sheathed for through Christ's sacrifice our sins have been redeemed. Both God's mercy through Christ's death and our mercy given to our neighbors restore the relationship with God that was destroyed by the Fall and perpetuated when we failed to uphold God's Law. Interestingly, most images of the Good Samaritan have one of the men resemble Christ. For instance, in Bourges the Samaritan was shown in the image of Christ, whereas Sens paints Christ as the beaten man. By switching which man is Christ, the theological message alters. As Christ, the Samaritan is symbolically returning us to God's kingdom. We are no longer living beaten and among thieves on the road to Jericho, but in close relationship with God. Yet, when the beaten man represents Jesus there are several implications. First it may be drawing upon the beatings prior to Christ's death on the cross, or they can be a reference to Matthew 25:40 "Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me."
Meanwhile, Sens and Morot show that while Christ did redeem us, our relationship with God is not fully restored until we all see others as Jesus saw them: worthy of our unconditional love and mercy. Most importantly, they highlight that we have not walked among thieves alone. Since the expulsion, humanity has been barred from Eden and a true relationship with God. We have been beaten, robbed and shown a lack of mercy. Yet, Christ shared in our journey and shared in our pains. He paid the ultimate price for our sins and suffering through his sacrifice on the cross: a final act of mercy. The angel can finally sheath his sword. Our debt has been paid. A relationship with God finally restored. Full Size of the Chartres Good Samaritan Window Full Size of the Bourges Good Samaritan Window Full Size of the Sens Good Samaritan Window Should you be interested in looking more closely at the full windows, I encourage you to check out: http://www.medievalart.org.uk/index.html . It includes a wonderful repository of images for the discussed windows in addition to many others of the famous French Gothic cathedrals. |
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