(Above) Antonio de Laurentiis, Throne of Eucharistic Exposition, 1754 (Gift of Kingdom of Naples). (Terra Sancta Museum, Jerusalem) © The Frick Collection

To the Holy Sepulcher: Treasures from the Terra Sancta Museum

Exhibition at the Frick Collection in New York (till January 5, 2026)

The Frick Collection now is showing a very special exhibition of liturgical objects from the Church of the Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem. These treasures will be displayed in the Terra Sancta Museum in Jerusalem once it is completed. 

After the final fall of the Holy Land to Islamic armies,  the Western Catholic presence at the Church of the Holy Sepulcher was maintained by the Franciscan order – and still is today. Not that the relationship with other “faith communities” was necessarily easy. Over the centuries the ruling Muslim authorities oscillated between repression and tolerance. And, as described in the catalog, there were also violent clashes with the Greek Orthodox neighbors at this church. Yet whatever their religious feelings might be, the Ottoman Turkish authorities were constrained by the need to maintain good relations with the Western states, above all France. Of course,  they also ere cognizant of the ongoing econmic benefits of the pilgrim trade.

Despite periodic vicissitudes, over the centuries the Franciscan mission accumulated a spectacular collection of liturgical art, donated by the leading Catholc powers. Ironically, unique vestments and liturgical objects have survived in this place so remote from Europe –  because in Jerusalem they escaped the destruction and looting of the French revolutionaries  and Napoleon’s armies.

The Frick hosted a similar exhibition in 2018-19 on the work of the 18^thcentury Roman goldsmith Luigi Valadier. Indeed, Xavier F. Salomon, one of the co-organizers of the Holy Sepulcher exhibition, played a leading role in that exhibition as well. The Valadier exhibition also brought to our attention rare gold and silver works that survived in out-of-the-way churches and cathedrals in Southern Italy and Sicily, where they had escaped later post-1789 French depredations. 

To the Holy Sepulcher  is a remarkable and overwhelming show. There are gigantic silver candelabra, antependia and “thrones” for the display of a monstrance. There are of course chalices, monstrances, patens, croziers, sanctuary lamps and other liturgical apparatus. Magnificent sets of vestments in gold and scarlet can be seen.  All of this was not “treasure” to be hoarded or put on display but was dedicated to actual liturgical use. Indeed, some of the vestments were refurbished later to preserve them for ongoing use.

The objects in the exhibition generally date from 1560 to around 1780. The artistic styles represented range from the later renaissance to baroque, rococo and early classicism. All of the powers of the Catholic world as it existed during and after the Counter-Reformation are represented: Spain, the Kingdom of Naples (perhaps the main donor state), France and Portugal but also the republics of Genoa and Venice. Given my own interests,  I would single out the gifts from the Holy Roman Empire. Emperor Charles VI and Empress Maria Theresa are named donors of works created in Southern Germany and Austria.

It is a truly amazing reminder of how Christendom had survived into the 18th century and how the Catholic monarchs and republics thought it an honor to create magnificent objects for the Catholic liturgy in such a special place as Jerusalem. There was no question here of separation between church and state!

Now all of this art was destined for the celebration of the traditional liturgy. Indeed, the catalog features an essay by Jacques-Charles Gaffiot, one of the organizers of the exhibition,  specifically discussing  the Mass and the practical and symbolic role of the exhibits in liturgical celebrations. 1)

This exhibition leaves us with more solemn and melancholy thoughts. We encounter the glory of the Catholic liturgy as it existed in the last years of Christendom. But hasn’t the Church of today turned its back on the liturgy that gave rise to these objects? For these magnificent works the Church has often substituted vessels of glass and pottery. Then we must consider the current political situation. These liturgical objects and the Terra Sancta Museum in which they will be housed remind us of the perilous state of the Christian presence in the Holy Land. For the recent conflicts in the Near East are leading to the disappearance of the Christian minority in those countries. 

For descriptions and photographs of the exhibits see To the Holy Sepulcher: Treasures from the Terra Sancta Museum (frick.org)

Postscript: It was my first visit to the Frick collection after its recent reconstruction and expansion. I only had time, however,  to view the Holy Sepulcher exhibition. Inside the exhibition space,  the layout and viewing conditions were excellent. I regret to say, however, that as a whole the Frick Collection itself has become a less pleasant place to visit. It is crowded and confusing, with vistors formed into lines under the supervision of guards. I would add to the irritations the steep admission charge and restrictions on photography (fortunately I am a member and hadn’t brought a camera along).  “Points of light,” to be fair, were several helpful staff. The Frick, which once was an oasis of calm and contemplation in the city, now has an atmosphere more like that of its neighbor up the street, the Metropolitan Museum of Art. But perhaps these problems were only of that day; I will return after the New Year to find out more. 

1. Charles-Gaffiot, Jacques. “In the Earthly City of Emmanuel: The Liturgy of Heaven Dwells among Mankind,” in  X. F. Salomon, J. Charles-Gaffiot and B. Constensoux, To the Holy Sepulcher: Treasures from the Terra Santa Museum (The Frick Collection New York; D. Giles Limited, 2025)

(Above) The arms of Maximilian I, Holy Roman Emperor in the apse of the Freiburg minster. (1512)

The town of Freiburg lies in the south of the German region of Baden, near the Rhine and what is now the border with France. But originally it was not so. The Breisgau (in which Freiburg is located) in the 12^th century was controlled by the dukes of Zähringen. They founded Freiburg in 1120  (along with Freiburg (Friburg) in Switzerland and Bern) as a kind of real estate investment. The town prospered, among other reasons,  because of nearby mines. Around 1200 the town’s  famous church or minster was begun (even though it was ecclesiastically just a parish church!).

In 1368 Freiburg came under the direct rule of house of Habsburg as part of the area of “Further Austria” in which it remained until 1805. After 1438, the Holy Roman Emperor was almost always the Habsburg archduke of Austria.  Accordingly, Freiburg was subject to him not just in his imperial capacity, but as the direct ruler as well. In the 15^th century the famous university was founded

Freiburg enjoyed a special time of glory around 1500-1535. Noted scholars (Erasmus) lived there; great artists left their work in and around the city (Hans Baldung Grien, Hans Holbein). It was during this period that the Freiburg minster was completed by around 1513 . The minster and other buildings in the town preserve many reminders of the Hapsburg Holy Roman Emperors and other members of that family.

The Freiburg MInster with Maximilian’s arms high in the apse window

The picturesque Kaufhaus (Merchant’s hall) of 1520 with statues of Hapsburg rulers.

(Above) Maximilian I.(Below) The arms of the Holy Roman Empire.

The “Haus Zum Walfisch” where Erasmus resided. It is famiiar to those who have seen the film”Suspiria.”

(Above and Below) Emperor Maximilian I in the minster. Note the fine renaissance inscription. (Some of these windows are copies; the original are in the town museum).

(Above) Philip the Fair, King of Spain (died 1506, never became Holy Roman Emperor)

(Above) Ferdinand I, later Holy Roman Emperor. (Below) Charles V Holy Roman Emperor)

Subsequent ages were not kind to this city. As a result of the Thirty Years’ War, it suddenly became a border outpost. Strasburg to the north eventually suffered a similar fate (but on the other side of the border!)  Freiburg was repeatedly fought over in the Thirty Years’ War and in the subsequent wars of Louis XIV; its surroundings were devastated.  The outpouring of South German baroque art in the 18^th century only just touched this landscape. This part of Germany bears mute witness to the declining fortunes of the Holy Roman Empire all along the Rhine River after 1618.  

Finally, Austria abandoned the entire region, primarily to the German states of Baden and Württemberg (which are now united). Freiburg lived on as a picturesque university town. In 1944 most of Freiburg was destroyed in an air raid. Fortunately, the minster and a few other key buildings and streets survived largely undamaged. 

(Above) Carving in the minster.

(Above and Below) The visitor can discover more traces of baroque art outside the city of Freiburg itself. This is the abbey of St. Peter in the Black Forest, dating to the 1720’s, where Zähringen rulers are buried.

Few places are so suggestive of the legacy of the Holy Roman Empire as Regensburg. Today a provincial Bavarian town, this city for centuries played a major role in German and European affairs. Now what is characteristic of the art of Regensburg are the traces of the course of history one finds everywhere, but especially in certain of the main churches. Just as in Rome itself, Regensburg’s older churches embody a succession of styles from the early Middle Ages, or even Roman times,  to the late baroque.  We have previously looked at the former abbey of St. Emmeram.1) Let’s consider another monument to the city’s age of glory:  the “Alte Kapelle” (the “Ancient (or Old) Chapel”)  – or, more formally, the “Collegiate Church (Stift) of Our Lady at the Old Chapel in Regensburg.” 

Like St. Emmeram, the Alte Kapelle claims a heritage from pre-Carolingian times  – supposedly it was the palace Chapel of the Dukes of Bavaria and the first Christian church built on the lands of that tribe. What is certain, however,  is that the emperor Louis the German (ruling from 826 or 843 to 876) specifically founded a collegiate church attached to his palace using ancient Roman materials. Indeed, the ninth century was a period of great significance for Regensburg. Louis the German ruled from here; the emperor Arnulf is buried in the city. After a period of troubles, the city recovered its glory under the sainted Imperial couple Henry II and Kunigunda (ruled 1002 – 1024). They reestablished and rebuilt the Alte Kapelle in its current form.

Regensburg flourished through the 13th century  – among other things, a stone bridge was built that set the pattern for many others, notably that of Prague. Regensburg  became a free imperial city. However, by the 15th century the city had been surpassed within the empire both as a commercial and political center. The Reformation also inflicted wounds. The city itself became Protestant. But, in a situation characteristic of the later Holy Roman Empire,  much of the city’s territory remained in the hands of Catholic institutions: the cathedral, various monasteries and the collegiate churches(like the Alte Kapelle). And all was surrounded by the domains of the much more significant Duchy, and later Electorate, of Bavaria. Nevertheless,  Regensburg retained some lingering significance as an imperial center. For example, Don Juan of Austria was born here following a visit of the emperor Charles V…

Later the “perpetual imperial diet” (Immerwährender Reichstag) was established in Regensburg between 1663 and 1806 (the end of the Empire). The perpetual Imperial diet was a kind of parliament of the ambassadors of the German states. It was in connection with his duties as commissioner of the diet that in 1748 the prince of Thurn and Taxis moved to Regensburg, where his descendants reside even to the present day. 

The imperial legacy of Regensburg concludes with  the inglorious figure of Carl Theodor von Dalberg (1744-1817). He was a prelate very much to the taste of the late 18th century: a suave presence in the salons, archchancellor of the Empire, a possessor of multiple benefices: Regensburg, Mainz, Worms, Constance. Later he became one of the leading toadies of Napoleon and the last bishop of Germany to rule over  a secular state. And he ended his days, stripped of all his secular possessions,  as the bishop of Regensburg in 1817.

(Above) This photo shows the exterior of the Alte Kapelle as it appeared around 1980. From left to right we see the high 15th century Gothic choir, then the nave dating to 1000-1020 and finally the tower rebuilt in the 12th/13th centuries. And all is surrounded by walls and windows that have been redone in the forms of the 18th century.

The exterior does not prepare us for the dazzling white and gold interior. Alongside the Wieskirche and the Asamkirche it is one of the most spectacular late baroque/rococo spaces in Bavaria. Unlike these, however, the Alte Kapelle is not a “work of all the arts,” uniting decoration and architecture. Rather, the lavish new decor was applied to a much more ancient church.

The double-headed eagle of the Holy Roman Empire bearing the coat of arms of Bavaria – a reference to Emperer Henry II who refounded the collegiate church. He had been the duke of Bavaria prior to his coronation as king of Germany, and later Roman emperor.

(Above and below) The bulk of this immense decorative project was accomplished after 1750. The Alte Kapelle unites for almost the last time representatives of the disciplines so often encountered in late baroque interiors in Bavaria : a stucco specialist from Wessobrunn (Anton Landes), painters from Augsburg ( Christoph Thomas Scheffler and Gottfried Bernard Götz) and a local sculptor (Simon Sorg).

The Virgin Mary revered by the saints – painting by Christoph Thomas Scheffler.

(Above and below) Focal point of the church is the main altar with the tabernacle and statue of the Virgin. On either side are Saints Henry and Kunigunda, the imperial refounders of the Alte Kapelle. Much of their work still remains under the 18th century decoration.

In keeping with the dedication of the church proclaimed on the reredos, the Holy Spirit and God the Father hover above the Virgin and the Christ Child.

The stucco work by Anton Landes is overwhelming in its richness and complexity. It is no wonder that the Alte Kapelle lately seems to have found a niche as a wedding venue.

(Above and below) St. John Nepomuk (Nepomucene) was frequently encountered both in and outside of churches throught the Catholic regions of the Holy Roman Empire.

See generally Betz, Karl-Heinz. Die Stiftskirche unserer Lieben Frau zur Alten Kapelle in Regensburg, (4th Edition, 1979, Verlag Schnell & Steiner, Munich/Zurich )

1. The Society of St Hugh of Cluny, On the Trail of the Holy Roman Empire II: the Asam Brothers.(6/19/2021)

It was under the Hohenstaufen emperors – primarily Frederick I, Henry VI and Frederick II – that the Holy Roman Empire achieved its greatest power and influence. Frederick I (1152-1190) battled in Italy to preserve imperial rights and died on the Third Crusade in Asia. Henry VI (1190 – 1197) may have been the most powerful and successful emperor. His marriage in 1186 to Constanza (Constance), the sole heiress of the crown of Sicily, united the empire with perhaps the wealthiest Kingdom in Europe: Sicily. It was the worst nightmare for the now surrounded papacy. Frederick II (1198-1250), the son of Henry and Constanza, dazzled Europe with his many accomplishments – in his day he was known as stupor mundi (wonder of the world). He warred for decades again the popes. Yet this war to the death with the papacy eventually fatally weakened the central power of the empire.

The Holy Roman Empire revolved around Germany from 962 to 1806. Yet, as a result of Henry VI’s marriage to Constance, the period after 1190 through much of the 13th century forms an exception. In this era Italy emerged as the new center of the empire. Frederick II ruled mainly from Sicily and Naples even though the kingdom of Sicily, as oppposed to Northern Italy, previously had never been considered part of the empire at all. Certainly the most enthusiastic partisans of the empire in the 13th century – the Ghibillines and similar parties – were now found south of the Alps. It took the papacy decades of war to eliminate the last of the Hohenstaufen (Manfred, Conradin) from the Italian peninsula.

This history is why today we stand in wonder before the magnificent porphyry sarcophagi of Henry VI and Fredrick II in a side chapel of the cathedral of far-off Palermo. These are perhaps the most magnificent tombs of Holy Roman emperors, carved in the same rare stone we also can still see in late Roman imperial sarcophagi especially in the Vatican museums but also in Constantinople. Thus, continuity was established with the Roman empirs prior to the coronation of Charlemagne in 800.

Yet it is fitting that these emperors rest here, so far from their ancestral home or even Northern Italy. For, after the accomplishments of Frederick I, it seemed that Henry VI was at last achieving the promise of the empire to restore the unity of Christendom. Within his own domains, the German princes and the Italian city states suspended their opposition to the expansion of Imperial authority. Even the papacy adopted an accomodating policy. Within Europe, England, Denmark, Hungary and others accepted Henry’s overlordship. And the union with the Kingdom of Sicily opened up unheard-of vistas of a truly worldwide realm. Henry forced the Byzantine emperor to pay tribute, his authority was acknowledged by the Armenian kingdom and the kingdom of Jerusalem. Henry in 11197 was assembing a mainly German army for a crusade in the East. But then he died, leaving an infant son (the future Frederick II). The laboriously constructed structures and relationships of his vast realm collapsed. The stability of the Holy Roman Empire depended far too much on the personality of the ruler. After Henry’s death, some 20 years of succession disputes followed in what, after all, always remained an elective monarchy. It was in this period that the papacy, under Innocent III reached the apogee of its power over Christendom.

Frederick II could only be crowned emperor in 1220. He had, if anything, even more exraordinary “charismatic” and intellectual gifts than his father or grandfather. Fantastic hopes and expectations surrounded him. Yet by the time Fredrick was able to exercise undisputed rule, the papacy, the Italian city states and the German princes – not to mention the kingdom of France – had all gained dramatically in power and influence. The result was an endless struggle with the popes and their allies – primarily in Italy – and the decline of the central power of the emperor. The body of Frederick II still reposes in the capital of the kingdom of Sicily, where he spent most of the later years of his life.

A few doors down from the Munich hotel in which I was recently staying is Trinity Church (Dreifaltigkeitskirche), a modest but magnificent monument of baroque art. It’s located on the Pacellistrasse – named after Pius XII.

The genesis of this church springs from the convoluted political conflicts within the Holy Roman Empire. Bavaria, like Austria, had remained Catholic after the Reformation. In the 17th Century the electors of Bavaria had fought for the Catholic cause against the enemies of the Empire. Yet, despite all that, from 1700 till 1813 the Bavarian rulers more often allied themselves with France against the Holy Roman (later Austrian) emperor. (One thinks of the similar relationship between the two Protestant states of Saxony and Prussia). The result of their rulers’ ambitions for the people of Bavaria was generally disastrous.

That was certainly true of the War of the Spanish Succession, in which the French and Bavarians were disastrously defeated in 1704 by the Imperial forces led by Prince Eugene of Savoy and the English under the Duke of Marlborough.1) It looked like Munich might be burned to the ground. A local holy woman and mystic, Maria Anna Lindmayr, had a vision in which the city would be saved if a vow were taken to build a church to the honor of the Trinity, The “estates” of Bavaria (citizens, nobility and clergy) made this vow and the city was saved. It’s an interesting example of the life of a Catholic “integralist” commonwealth, with the different components of society united around a common faith. This unity was the legacy of the Counter-Reformation.

In 1705-06, outside of Munich, the Bavarians rose up (unsucessfully) against the occupation forces in a legendary struggle that became a critical element of Bavarian consciousness. However, this also created a rift between Austria and Bavaria, the two major German Catholic states, otherwise so similar in culture and language. It was one more element in the increasingly complex political life of the Holy Roman Empire.

The planning and construction, however, went on for years. The architect was Giovanni Antonio Viscardi of Graubunden, Switzerland, who worked mainly in Bavaria. His work is based on the architecture of the baroque churches of Rome. The other artists involved in the construction and decoration were locals. Ironically, most of the work on this building took place under, and with the support of, the Austrian occupation regime led by a deputy of the Holy Roman Emperor. For the elector of Bavaria, Maximilian II Emanuel, had been expelled from his domains after his defeat in 1704 and would be unable to return to Munich until after the war was over in 1714. Trinity church was finally consecrated in 1718.

Early on, a Carmelite monastery was attached to this votive church. Maria Anna Lindmayr eventually became a member of this convent. She died in 1726, widely revered as a saint – yet, after initial efforts, her cause was not pursued further.

Like many baroque churches, the Dreifaltigkeitskirche conveys the impression of a circular centralized space. The focal point of the decoration is the ceiling fresco by Cosmas Damian Asam – one of his earliest works and a foretaste of later masterpieces. It is a vast composition swirling around the image of the Trinity. It’s derived, of course, from the decoration of the ceilings and domes of various Roman churches of the previous century.

Thus Trinity church perfectly illustrates the creative interaction in the 18th century of Roman Baroque models in architecture and painting with native artists and traditions. It helped launch the most glorious period of art in Bavaria and adjacent regions of Germany. And such creative encounters are characteristic of the Holy Roman Empire, of which this church is a remarkable surviving witness. For Trinity was a votive church, inspired by the visions of a mystic and vowed by the estates which together constituted the people of Bavaria in that age. This vow sucessfully warded off the destruction of the city by the forces of the emperor – yet this same emperor enabled the construction of the church. Thus Trinity church testifies to the shared South German Catholic piety of Austrians and Bavarians – yet these peoples inherited from the era in which this church was built a certain resentment and animosity.

So much history of the days of the old Empire can be found just a short stroll from the contrasting world of a modern luxury hotel. And this hotel in the heart of Munich includes – another historical relic but one of a much later age – a Trader Vic’s restaurant! It’s a literal demonstration of Byung-Chul Han’s thesis that in the hyperculture of postmodernity we are all “tourists in Hawaiian shirts,” mixing, yet alienated from, all cultures (including our own). 2)

See generally Bieri, Pius, “Dreifaltigkeitskirche und ehemaliges Karmelitinnenkloster München” in sueddeutscher-Barock.ch.; “Dreifaltigkeitskirche München”  (de.wikipedia.org, acccesssed 4/29/2023)

1. The final decisive battle of 1704 is known in English as Blenheim. Thus Southey’s famous poem of 1796 After Blenheim.
2. Han, Byung-Chul, Hyperculture: Culture and Globalization (translator: Daniel Steuer) at 1 (referencing Nigel Barley) (Polity Press, Cambridge UK and Medford MA USA 2022; original German publication 2005)

That’s the title of a fiery new essay by John Zmirak in Chronicles magazine. Obviously, in a secular magazine the opportunity for frank, even provocative, speech is far greater than in a Catholic publication, e.g.,

An atheist pope is destroying the Church.

Mr. Zmirak explicitly compares the current post-Vatican II regime with twentieth century totalitarianism (“papal Stalinism”):

Vatican II itself, in the document Lumen Gentium, demanded that every Catholic on earth offer “religious submission” to papal opinions, even those offered with no infallible guarantee. There’s no other way to describe such a demand but as papal Stalinism, with each Catholic bound, like the poor Communist Party members in Arthur Koestler’s Darkness At Noon, to conform their consciences to every new adjustment of the party line, since the party alone was the “voice of History.”  Only a firm papal Stalinist like that would in 2023 still regard Pope Francis as a worthy pope, and his teachings as reliable. Sadly, countless bishops, priests, and public Catholics still affirm that stance, either explicitly or by their silence and acquiescence.

What follows is a very full – but still not exhaustive – catalogue of the papal iniquities of the last eleven years. My reservation regarding this excellent essay would be that Mr. Zmirak seems attracted to the “infiltration” explanation of the Church’s problems. I respectfully disagree – the anti-Christian forces both within and outside the Church are very public in their affiliations, ideology and tactics.

As for a solution, in the past that was easier to bring about:

[I}n centuries past, a Catholic emperor or council on rare occasions deposed an unworthy pope, that option was foreclosed by the end of the Holy Roman Empire in 1806—not to mention the hyper-papalist rulings of the First Vatican Council in 1870. That Council made the papacy absolutely supreme, but also impossible to correct. No one on earth may now judge or remove a pope. Historians of the Romanovs might have something to say about whether such an elevation was really a great advantage.

The loss of the Holy Roman Empire (as well as that of the other Christian kingdoms) still leaves a painful void.

Zmirak, John, “How Do You Solve A Problem Like Francis?” in Chronicles: a Magazine of American Culture (1/2024)

The Getty Museum has acquired the Irmengard Codex, a manuscript made for the 11th century noblewoman Irmengard of Nellenburg, a member of the House of Egisheim-Dagsburg in Germany.

The Irmengard Codex was created in Germany in the mid-11th century. A collection of readings for the Mass, the manuscript contains 15 full-page illuminations executed in the otherworldly pinks, blues, and lavenders that characterize painting of the so-called long Ottonian era.

Irmengard of Nellenburg, the codex’s patron, was a member of a powerful local ruling family, the House of Egisheim-Dagsburg. She was related to Pope Leo IX (1002-1054) and was the Ottonian Emperor Henry II’s niece (973-1024).

Based on the script, it is thought that the text of the Irmengard Codex was written around 1030-1050. The full-page miniatures were added shortly after 1053 at the order of Irmengard. The illumination program culminates in an extremely rare dedication image in which Irmengard presents her book in memory of her deceased husband Werner… .

“The Irmengard Codex represents the preeminent center of German illumination of the period, the Reichenau school, in which the powerful and theatrical figures underscore the stateliness of events they enact,” says Elizabeth Morrison, senior curator of manuscripts at the Getty Museum. 1)

Yet where did this book come from? From the Catholic University of Lille, France, which had owned it since 1881 and where it was known as the évangéliaire de Saint-Mihiel. You see, they needed to sell this treasure to finance various construction projects….2)

Sales of art by by Catholic institutions are an ever growing problem in Europe – and here – as religious communities diminish, money needs grow and any remaining reverence for the artistic and spiritual value of such objects evaporates. 3)

1, “Getty Acquires 11th Century Irmengard Codex,“ Fine Books & Collections (3/17/2023).

2. See Le Forum Catholique by “Vexilla Galliae,” (3/19/2023); Derogis, Paul, L’Institut “catholique” de Lille a vendu l’évangéliaire dit de Saint-Mihiel daté de 1040, Médias Presse-Info (3/19/2023)

3. Findeisen, Moritz, Kunstschätze in Gefahr? Von der kulturellen Verantwortung der Klöster, Katholisch.de (6/9/2022) ( A German momastery is threatening to sell manuscripts that had resided there since the 13th Century; “Of the 18,000 nuns living in Germany only 17 per cent are younger than 65.“)

The Art of the Book in the Holy Roman Empire 800-1500

Exhibition at the Pierpont Morgan Library (through January 23)

The Holy Roman Empire, despite many ups and downs, was a key force in European art, culture and politics between 800 and 1806. This exhibition basically covers seven centuries of book illumination in the empire from 800 to 1500. The exhibition focuses on the Holy Roman Empire as it existed around 1500, minus the Netherlands –  in other words,  Germany and German cultural areas. This way the exhibition achieves cultural and national unity.  For to cover all the territories under the domination of the empire at its greatest extent – by adding the northern Netherlands, eastern France, and North /Central Italy  – would make the exhibition a general history of Christian European culture. It is impressive that the exhibits are drawn mainly from the holdings of the Pierpont Morgan library itself, as supplemented by loans from other American institutions.

The exhibition also serves as a good course in the political development of the empire. At first,  the Holy Roman emperors themselves played a dominant role in patronage, commissioning works from monasteries and major ecclesiastical centers. This was gradually supplemented and succeeded by the growing patronage of the nobility and the princes. In the 14^th century the first real permanent capital of the empire was established in Prague, in the face of growing rivalry with Vienna and the Hapsburgs of Austria. Finally,  at the end of medieval times,  came the flourishing of the great imperial cities – Nuremberg, Augsburg, Strassburg –  as producers of art. Naturally there was much overlap: Emperor Maximilian I, who died in 1519, was one of the greatest patrons of all and the ecclesiastical center of Mainz – which never quite became a free imperial city – played a major role around 1450. Indeed, on display in this exhibition is a Gutenberg Bible (the Morgan Library has three!) printed in the same city of Mainz -using a technology that in the course of time would end the illuminated manuscript tradition.

The art on display consists primarily of illuminated manuscripts as well as  book covers and liturgical vessels in precious metal. Now one must understand that in the first centuries covered by this exhibition (800 to 1200) the so-called “fine arts” of architecture, painting and sculpture were not perceived as superior to “applied arts” like book illumination or goldsmiths work. Just as much care was given to the precious book covers, liturgical vessels, reliquaries  – as well as to the manuscripts –  as was given to the churches that contained them. In other words,  what we see in this exhibition are the main products of the art of these early medieval periods.

We see also a transformation of the role of the artist, his art and his patron. In the first centuries lavish illustrated manuscripts are encased in gold covers. These are primarily commissions by the imperial family themselves and the artists are primarily monks at the major monasteries. Later, monasteries and noble families joined the imperial families as major patrons of art. From the 13th century onward lay professional artists played an increasing role in illustrating manuscripts. By the 15th century professional artists had become the dominant force in free cities like Nuremberg and an export trade came into existence.  A growing interaction developed between book illumination and the new art of printing. Finally, we see the artists of the Renaissance – like Albrecht Dürer –  bringing their individual creativity to bear in exploring entirely new approaches to traditional themes.

Do not these masterworks demonstrate to us the importance the written word once had? Today a word appears on Outlook and – if it even survives the spell checker – shortly thereafter may vanish forever. Yet in illuminated manuscripts the word is carefully preserved for all time. This is particularly true of the early medieval period. But even towards the end of the centuries covered by this exhibition, we see the extreme care with which books, both printed and handwritten, are prepared. We see also the cultural importance of Latin – the language of most of the manuscripts in this exhibition. Throughout seven centuries it served as a unifying factor – and of course was always the Church’s liturgical language. After 1200, books written in the vernacular (German) start to appear – and in the 15th century we find one Czech example. Yet Latin retained its primacy throughout.

It may be obvious, but I still need to point out that in all the seven centuries covered by this exhibition, the Catholic Church was the overwhelmingly dominant artistic force of the “Holy” Roman Empire.  In the later centuries secular works do increasingly appear but were often Christian allegorical or philosophical treatises. From the end of the Carolingian age to the Renaissance,  artists interacted with the same elements of Christian belief: the Old and New Testaments, the lives of the Saints, edifying parables and allegories. The Morgan exhibition does point out the Christian meaning of many of the images and symbols of the objects on display and the role of certain items in church ritual (e.g., processional gospel books, large format books of chant).

The works these artists created over so many centuries of course show great stylistic differences and even artistic development; the Christian intellectual foundation, however,  remained the same. One also cannot speak of “progress”  – is a Dürer print superior to an Ottonian illumination? This is the nature of Western traditional art, which modernists – either in art or liturgy –  cannot understand:  the tradition remains the same even if each age makes its own contribution in creative dialogue with the permanent elements of the culture. 

The visitor can experience this unity first hand today if, proceeding beyond the timeframe of this exhibition, he visits the cities and monasteries where the books presented at the Morgan Library were created. Such as the immense baroque monastery of Weingarten in south-west Germany. Or St. Gallen – now infamous – which was built later and is more restrained, but has an incomparable library. Only Reichenau preserves somewhat the appearance of the abbey buildings as they existed when the magnificent manuscripts in this exhibition were created in Ottonian times. The city of Regensburg perhaps most perfectly illustrates this continuity – with sacred edifices dating from the 8th to the 18th centuries. The Holy Roman Empire – or at least parts of it – remained true to its Christian Mission even to the end of the 18th century.

It is this diversity in unity which distinguishes the art of the West – at least before 1800. The Holy Roman Empire was preeminently representative of such a culture, lacking as it did strong central political institutions throughout most of its existence. But this “Holy” Empire always had one clear focus of unity: Christianity. This exhibition brilliantly showcases just one example of this empire’s cultural achievements.

The Lindau Gospels with precious covers from the second half of the 9th century (front, above) and the second half of the 8th century (below).

(Above) Cover of Mondsee Gospels, Regensburg, 11th Century)

(Above) Gospels written on purple parchment wth gold ink, in imitation of late Roman work (Trier, 9th century).

(Above and below) Chalice and paten from St. Trudpert monastery, near Freiburg, Germany. (around 1230-1250)

(Above) This manuscript may have belonged to St. Hedwig of Silesia. (Early 13th Century)

(Above) Patronage by the nobility. (around 1247)

(Above) Celebration of the Mass – along with humorous animal scenes.

(Above) This illumination shows the influence of the revelations of St. Birgitta ( the Virgin Mary adoring the Christ Child Who is bathed in radiant light) (Prague, around 1405)

A new age dawns: (Above) a print from the Passion by Albrecht Dürer  (Below) An illumination in the style of contemporary Nuremberg art .

For the second famous image of the Assumption in the German lands, we must go back to between 1505 to 1510 – still very much the era of the late Middle Ages. The Herrgottskirche (Church of Our Lord) in Creglingen is a chapel, built around 1400, that takes its name from the miraculous finding of a Host by a ploughman. A pilgrimage soon arose and this small church was decorated with a number of carved wooden altars that have miraculously survived until today. This, even though Creglingen became part of a principality whose ruler joined the Reformation later in the 16th century. But when the altar of the Assumption of Our Lady was created these developments still lay in the future.

The altar of the Assumption was called, at the time of its creation, the Corpus Christi altar in keeping with the dedication of the pilgrimage chapel. One of Tilman Reimenschneider’s greatest masterpieces, it’s also one of the earliest works of art to depict the Assumption of Our Lady – as opposed to the traditional Byzantine/medieval image of her Dormition. Yet the image of Our Lady in Creglingen is still that of the Middle Ages: calm, transfigured and sunk in contemplative prayer. The back of the altar is opened up, as if by the windows of a Gothic church, allowing light from the background to surround and illuminate the spiritual action taking place. Here we find no ecstatic, almost explosive rush towards the heavens (as in the Assumption of Egid Quirin Asam) but serene union with – even absorption into – God. One senses the lingering presence of the sprituality of the German mystics of the 14th and 15th centuries: Meister Eckhart, Tauler and Suso. And, of course, also of their contemporaries in other countries: think of Julian of Norwich, Walter Hilton and the author of the Cloud of Unknowing – just in England alone.

The creator of the altar, Tilman Riemenschneider, was the premier artist of the city of Wuerzburg located, like Creglingen, in the region of Franconia. At that time it was ruled by a prince-bishop, and Creglingen was under his spiritual (but not temporal) jurisdiction.Riemenschneider worked in both stone and wood. About this time, perhaps influenced by the first stirrings of the Rennaissance north of the Alps, Riemenschneider and other German artists started to abandon the medieval practice of painting religious statuary. Among this artist’s greatest works are his wooden altars. This kind of grand reredos, often featuring movable carved or painted wings, enjoyed a magnificent flowering in the Holy Roman Empire between 1450 and 1530.

The art of the great wood altars of Germany ended in the turmoil of the Reformation. In the tremendous religious struggles that followed, the precious contemplative heritage of the Middle Ages went underground. Yet that mystical spirituality did not go utterly extinct. It flamed up again and again in the Holy Roman Empire in the wake of the Catholic Reformation. It resurfaces, for example, in the Asam brothers’ mystical use of light at the church of St. John Nepomuk. And this spirituality lives once more in the poetry of Angelus Silesius (1624-1677) – such as in the following poem, which proclaims the bond between the Assumption and the Eucharist – the origin of Riemenschneider’s altar.

The Virginal Body that enclosed our Bread from Heaven.

Is truly no longer dead,

No ceder of Lebanon rots: otherwise it not be so fine,

For her to be, besides the Temple of God, His Ark of the Covenant.

Angelus Silesius, Cherubinischer Wandersmann, Book III, 66 “On the Most Blessed Virgin” (1675)

See Kahsnitz, Rainer and Bunz, Achim, Die grossen Schnitzaltaere 238-253 (Hirmer Verlag, Munich, 2005)

The brothers Asam, architects, sculptors and painters, represented the epitome of the baroque in the first half of the 18th century in the Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation. They resided and did much their work in the electorate (principality) of Bavaria – an entity much smaller than the subsequent kingdom and present Land of that name – but were active in many other locations as well. But they only rarely had the opportunity to create an entirely new church, uniting all their talents in one unified work of art. Earlier, I have described one such example: their own house “chapel” of St. John Nepomuk in Munich. Another is the monastery church of Rohr, near Regensburg. Here Egid Quirin Asam created one of the three most famous images of the Assumption in European art. 1)

Rohr, now an out-of-the-way village, was in the time of the Asams the site of a monastery of the Augustinan canons. When we admire the almost innumerable number of baroque churches in 18th century Germany we forget that so many of these masterpieces were monastic churches. The eighteenth century in Germany was indeed the time of a great monastic flourishing after the tribulations of the Reformation and the wars of the 17th century – and before the destruction of the French Revolution and the subsequent secularizations (confiscations) by the German states. It was the patronage of these monks that in large part made possible the last great flowering of art in Europe in the age of the baroque and rococo. 2) The dedication of the Rohr monastery was to Our Lady of the Assumption.

The nave of Rohr is in a rather severe style, leading the visitor onwards to the main altar shimmering in the distance. Egid Quirin Asam was responsible for the decor and likely for the architecture as well.

The altar depicts the Assumption of Our Lady. Below, the apostles, in agitated conversation among themselves, marvel at finding her empty tomb strewn with flowers. Above, the Trinity and angels await the crowning of Our Lady as Queen of Heaven. The altar was the creation of Egid Quirin Asam in 1722-23.

Come away my Love,

Come away my Dove

Cast off delay:

The Court of Heav’n is come,

To wait upon thee home;

Come away, come away.

The ecstatic art of Egid Quirin Asam in Rohr corresponds to the expressive religious poetry of Richard Crashaw in the preceding century.

Thy sacred Name shall be

Thyself to us, and we

With holy cares will keep it by us,

We to the last,

Will hold it fast,

And no Asumption shall deny us.

All the sweetest showers,

Of our fairest Flowers

Will we strow upon it:

Though our sweetnees cannot make

It sweeter, they may take

Themselves new sweetness from it.

Richard Crashaw, “On the Assumption of the Virgin Mary”

1. The others are Titian’s great Frari Assumption in Venice and Riemenschneider’s masterpiece in Creglingen.
2. After World War II, German Benedictine monks expelled from Czechoslovakia came to Rohr and restored monastic life and many of the buildings.