SCULPTURE
The revival of monumental stone sculpture is even more astonishing than
the architectural achievements of the Romanesque era, since neither
Carolingian nor Ottonian art had shown any tendencies in this direction.
Free-standing statues, we will recall, all but disappeared from Western
art after the fifth century. Stone relief in turn survived only in the
form of architectural ornament or surface decoration, with the depth of
the carving reduced to a minimum. Thus the only continuous sculptural
tradition in early medieval art was that of sculpture-in-miniature:
small reliefs, and occasional statuettes, in metal or ivory. Ottonian
art, in works such as the bronze doors of Bishop Bernward (see fig.
396), had enlarged the scale of this tradition but not its spirit.
Moreover, its truly large-scale sculptural efforts, represented by the
impressive Gem Crucifix (fig. 391), were limited almost entirely to
wood. What little stone caning there was in western Europe before the
mid-eleventh century hardly went beyond the artistic and technical level
of the Sigvald relief (fig. 377).
Southwestern France
Fifty years later, the situation had changed dramatically. Just when and
where the revival of stone sculpture began we cannot say with certainty,
but if any one area has a claim to priority it is southwestern France
and northern Spain, along the pilgrimage roads leading to Santiago de
Compostela. The link with the pilgrimage traffic seems logical enough,
for architectural sculpture, especially when applied to the exterior of
a church, is meant to appeal to the lay worshiper rather than to the
members of a closed monastic community.
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ST.-SERNIN, TOULOUSE.
As in Romanesque architecture, the rapid development of stone sculpture
between 1050 and 1100 reflects the growth of religious fervor among the
lay population in the decades before the First Crusade. St.-Sernin at
Toulouse contains several important examples probably carved about 1090.
including the Apostle in figure 422. This panel is now in the
ambulatory; its original location remains uncertain, but it perhaps
decorated the front of an altar. Where have we seen its like before? The
solidity of the forms has a strongly classical air, indicating that our
artist must have had a close look at late Roman sculpture, of which
there are considerable remains in southern France. But the solemn frontality of the figure and its placement in the architectural frame
show that the design as a whole must derive from a Byzantine source, in
all likelihood an ivory panel descended from the Archangel Michael in
figure 317.
In enlarging such a miniature, the carver of our relief has also
reinflated it. The niche is a real cavity, the hair a round,
close-fitting cap, the body severe and blocklike. Our Apostle has, in
fact, much the same dignity and directness as the sculpture of Archaic
Greece. The figure, somewhat more than half-lifesize, was not intended
for viewing at close range only. Its impressive bulk and
weight "carry" over a considerable distance. This emphasis
on massive volume hints at what may well have been the main
impulse behind the revival of large-scale sculpture: a
stone-carved image, being tangible and three-dimensional, is
far more "real" than a painted one. To the mind of a cleric
steeped in the abstractions of theology, this might seem
irrelevant, or even dangerous. St. Bernard of Clairvaux, writing in the
1120s, denounced sculptured decoration in churches as a vain folly and
diversion that tempts us "to read in the marble rather than in our
books." His was a voice not very much heeded, however. For the
unsophisticated laity, any large piece of sculpture had something of the
quality of an idol, and it was this very fact that gave it such great
appeal.
422.
Apostle,
ñ. 1090.
Stone. St.-Sernin, Toulouse
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ST.-PIERRE, MOISSAC.
425. Romanesque and High Gothic
portal ensembles
Another important early center of Romanesque sculpture was the abbey at
Moissac, some distance north of Toulouse. The south portal of its
church, carved a generation later than the Apostle from St.-Sernin,
displays a richness of invention that would have made St. Bernard wince.
(The parts of typical medieval portals are shown in figure 425.) In
figure 423 we see the magnificent trumeau (the center post supporting
the lintel) and the western jamb. Both have a scalloped
profile—apparently a bit of Moorish influence (see fig. 354)—and the
shafts of the half-columns applied to jambs and trumeau follow this
scalloped pattern, as if they had been squeezed from a giant pastry
tube. Human and animal forms are treated with the same incredible
flexibility, so that the spidery prophet on the side of the trumeau
seems perfectly adapted to his precarious perch. (Notice how he, too,
has been fitted into the scalloped outline.) He even remains free to
cross his legs in a dancelike movement and to turn his head toward the
interior of the church as he unfurls his scroll.
The Abbaye St-Pierre de Moissac
But what of the crossed lions that form a symmetrical zigzag on the face
of the trumeau—do they have a meaning? So far as we know, they simply
"animate" the shaft, just as the interlacing beasts of Irish miniatures
(whose descendants they are) animate the compartments assigned to them.
In manuscript illumination, this tradition had never died out. Our
sculpture has undoubtedly been influenced by it, just as the agitated
movement of the prophet has its ultimate origin in miniature painting
(see fig. 434). The crossed lions reflect another source as well. We
find them in Persian metalwork (although not in this towerlike
formation), whence they can be traced back to the confronted animals of
ancient Near Eastern art (see figs. 52, 94, and 137). Yet we cannot
fully account for their presence at Moissac in terms of their
effectiveness as ornament. They belong to an extensive family of savage
or monstrous creatures in Romanesque art that retain their demoniacal
vitality even though they are compelled, like our lions, to perform a
supporting function. (A similar example may be seen in fig. 429.) Their
purpose is thus not only decorative but expressive. They embody dark
forces that have been domesticated into guardian figures or banished to
a position that holds them fixed for all eternity, however much they may
snarl in protest.
The portal proper at Moissac is preceded by a deep porch, with lavishly
sculptured sides. Within the arcade on the east flank (fig. 424) we see
the Annunciation and Visitation, as well as the Adoration of the Magi.
Other events from the early life of Christ are shown on the frieze
above. Here we find the same thin limbs, the same eloquent gestures we
saw in the prophet on the trumeau. (Note especially the wonderful play
of hands in the Visitation and Annunciation.) Only the proportions of
the bodies and the size of the figures vary with the architectural
context. What matters is the vividness of the narrative, rather than
consistency of treatment.
The Abbaye St-Pierre de Moissac.
South Portal
The Abbaye St-Pierre de Moissac.
Tympanum of the South Portal
The Abbaye St-Pierre de Moissac.
Tympanum of the South Portal
423. South portal (portion),
St.-Pierre, Moissac. Early 12th century
The prophet Jeremiah at the Abbaye St-Pierre, Moissac
The Prophet Jeremiah (detail)
Saint Paul - on the other side of the trumeau to Jeremiah
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Trumeau
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Porch (detail)
424. East flank, smith portal.
St.-Pierre, Moissac (the angel of the Annunciation,
bottom left, is modern)
The Soul of the Rich Man Tormented by Devils
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Devil and Luxuria
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Floral and Figural Capitals at Abbaye St-Pierre
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