A walk among flowers

Each image gave visual form to a spiritual truth and involved a universal code of meanings, the basic elements of which were common to both popular culture and also understood by erudite viewers who extracted more complex readings from these symbols.

In this panel by Van der Weyden we see the Virgin as the personification of the Church, located within an architectural structure that refers to her role as intercessor. The Prophets on either side of the niche support the scenes in the upper level: the Annunciation, Visitation, Nativity, Adoration of the Magi, Resurrection and Pentecost, with the Coronation in the centre. An important detail is the presence of four painted, illusionistic holes for the supports for scaffolding, which may symbolically refer to the four Evangelists who were the mediators between the Old and New Testaments.

Despite the small size of this work the flowers depicted on the far right and left are perfectly recognisable, indicating that Van der Weyden aimed to associate specific species with Christian iconography. The flowers here can be identified as columbines, hibiscus, mallows, peonies and irises. The decorative elements on the architectural surround also include plant motifs such as acanthus leaves, rosettes and the clover leaf, which refers to the Trinity.

Other works on display in this gallery make use of complex floral symbolism. They include The Virgin of the Dry Tree by Petrus Christus, in which the Virgin is the“rose among thorns”, surrounded by a wreath alluding to the rosary; The Virgin and Child with two Angels by the Master of the Saint Ursula Legend, in which the pink symbolises the nails in Christ’s cross and hence the Passion (as we see again in the tapestry on display in the next gallery, which depicts The Lamentation over the dead Christ; The Virgin and Child between Angels, by the Master of the André Madonna; and The Virgin and Child by a follower of Dirck Bouts, in which the Virgin is depicted in the hortus conclusus in reference to a passage from the Song of Solomon: “A garden enclosed is my sister, my spouse; a spring shut up, a fountain sealed”.

On the other hand, the vase is decorated with the anagram of Christ, conveying the idea that a pure and fragrant soul can be housed in a perishable body, just as this humble earthenware vase contains a beautiful cluster of the symbolic flowers most commonly depicted in the Christian tradition: the white lily, iris and columbine. In addition, they are depicted in groups of three, referring to the Trinity. The purity and fragrance of the white lily inevitably refers to the Virgin Mary as a symbol of purity, innocence and chastity. The iris had a double meaning; on the one hand it is a symbol of Christ and of redemption while it is also alludes to the Virgin. The columbine represents the Holy Spirit as its flowers are shaped like doves.

These flowers are also to be seen in The Annunciation by Jan de Beer in Room 10. Please also go to Room 11 where you will see The Immaculate Conception by El Greco and Jorge Manuel Theotokopoulos, which contains a wide range of Marian symbols.

Another interpretation argues that as the flower is a bud rather than an open bloom, it thus refers to the sitter’s virginal status, which would correspond well to her evident youth in this image. Furthermore, at this date Catherine had not yet married into the English royal family and was being courted by various European houses. This painting may therefore have been used during matrimonial negotiations as part of the strategy of alliances pursued by the Spanish Catholic Kings.

A third option associates the flower with a nuptial portrait, which would strengthen the hypothesis that the sitter depicted here is the Infanta María, who became Queen of Portugal in 1500 on her marriage to Manuel I.

Another nuptial portrait on display in this gallery is Joos van Cleeve’s Selfportrait in which he holds a pink, which is a symbol of conjugal love and fidelity due to its delicate scent and the fact that the flowers are long lasting. Normally, however, it was the wife who held this symbol of devotion while the husband would be accompanied by items referring to his power or social status. This is the case in the double portrait by Barthel Bruyn in Room 8. Floral symbols alluding to fidelity in works of this type include the thistle (known in colloquial German as “men’s fidelity”) and climbing plants such as ivy, vine and honeysuckle.

If you proceed to Room 9 you will see Hans Maler’s Portrait of Anne of Hungary and Bohemia. It does not contain any flowers but modern restoration techniques have revealed one beneath the pictorial surface, a fact also suggested by the position of the hand. For some reason the sitter decided to have it removed.

This painting could perhaps be interpreted in terms of the Senses, which were associated with male and female qualities in the pre-modern age. On a basic level, the intellect was associated with men, while women were associated with the body and the sensory world. Men were thus identified with the more rational senses of sight and hearing and women with the more basic, corporeal ones of touch, smell and taste.

This gallery also displays The Rape of Europa by Simon Vouet, in which Zeus in the form of a white bull wearing a garland of flowers flees with the beautiful Europa. Many of the Greek myths that recount the seduction of young girls by gods start with the act of picking flowers, as in the stories of Persephone and Hades, Thalia and Zeus, and Creusa and Apollo. 

The careful choice of the various plants in the painting is fundamental to its overall iconographic interpretation. Precisely depicted, they refer to the virtues of the Christian Knight: the white lily (purity and innocence); the iris (associated with the sword due to the shape of its leaves, while its blue colour symbolises nobility or royalty); the columbine (the Holy Spirit); the violet in the lower right corner (humility and modesty); the blue periwinkle in the opposite corner (fidelity and friendship); the camomile by the spring (rejuvenation or fortitude through virtue); while the plant with red berries next to the knight is an Italian arum (symbolising self sacrifice). The bare tree in the middle ground may be an oak in reference to spiritual renewal and strength or an allusion to the proposed sitter’s name, Rovere (meaning oak in Italian).

More difficult to interpret is the loppedoff tree on the right, from which hangs the cartellino with the artist’s signature. Growing from the ground next to it are some fruit bearing branches that have been interpreted as blackberries and thus as a negative symbol due to their thorns. However, the fruit on blackberry bushes clusters together and the leaves are different to those seen here. This may not be a shrub but a new shoot from the cut down tree that grows from the still living root and springs up vigorously in order to replace it. In that case the tree could be a mulberry to judge from its appearance. 

If the knight depicted is the young Duke of Urbino, the cut down tree would refer to the death without heir of the last Montefeltro and the passing of the ducal title to the della Roveres. Thus the new shoot of the tree would refer to the continuity of the title in the figure of the young Duke seen here. But why a mulberry and not an oak tree? Perhaps to emphasise the fruit (symbolising descendents) or in reference to the flourishing silk industry that was emerging in various parts of Italy at this date.

This belief was based on the notion that Christians who lived in a state of grace would be impregnated with the divine odour of the Holy Spirit. As a result, a meritorious soul would take shape through different emanations, the pictorial equivalent of which is the subtle halo that crowns Casilda as a sign that she has been chosen.

A comparable interpretation can be made of Murillo’s painting of The Virgin and Child with Saint Rosa of Viterbo, on display in the next room.

A metaphor of death and the renewal of nature, the story of Hyacinthus contains a promise of resurrection like the cycle of nature, although his story can also be interpreted as an image of pederasty in the Greek world as this institutionalised practice decreed that the relationship between the older lover and his beloved ended when the latter reached maturity.

Tiepolo’s style falls within the last glorious phase of the heroic Baroque. Here he depicts the episode of Hyacinthus in a setting that could be described as operatic. Bathed in a soft, diffused light, the figures make declamatory gestures under the mocking gaze of a sculpture of a satyr. In addition, the artist took various liberties with the text, such as replacing the discus with the balls and racket of the game of allacorda (the forerunner of tennis), and including a hyacinth macaw, an exotic bird that takes its name from the colour of its plumage.

Flower painting now reflected an interest in the collecting of exotic objects that was enthusiastically embraced by the mercantile and aristocratic classes. The choice of flowers depicted in these still lifes was not solely determined by their aesthetic merits as prominence tended to be given to the most valuable and exotic species at the time the work was painted, mixed in with flowers that had traditionally been appreciated in gardens. This is the case with crown imperials, which appear in this painting by Bosschaert but which would fall out of favour some years later due to their unpleasant smell.

Tulips were equally appreciated and were also imported from Turkey. This flower was responsible for a curious social phenomenon known as “Tulipmania” in which the variants with ragged edges and variegated colours, such as the Semper Augustus, were the most appreciated. Those who paid up to 5,000 florins (the price of a sizeable house) for a single bulb were unaware that the exotic patterns and colours of the flowers were actually caused by a virus, a fact that was only discovered much later with the invention of the electronic microscope.

All these floral still lifes are characterised by a negation of the passing of time, given that they depict flowers that never bloom together in their natural state. As a result, art surpasses nature in these works.

Given that paintings of this type seem to lack an overt narrative, some scholars have chosen to read a hidden meaning into them close to that of the vanitas, in which the ephemeral nature of the flowers would encourage a reflection on the fragility of human life. Another more direct interpretation, however, sees their beauty as a celebration of nature’s bounty and of the immortality of art in contrast to the perishable nature of human beings.

Worth noting are the tiny creatures that artists frequently included in these compositions, including dragonflies, flies and snails. Also striking are the beautiful Chinese vases and the shells, which allude to Holland’s mercantile might. A universe of sensations encourages the visitor to pause in this gallery and admire the works of artists such as Balthasar van der Ast, Jan Davidsz. de Heem and Jacques Linard.

Dutch ships arrived in Amsterdam from distant countries, loaded with fabulous cargoes of natural specimens. Lilies, hyacinths, crown imperials, fritillaries, red lilies, double narcissi and tulips began to arrive from the Ottoman Empire. They immediately became status symbols and manifestations of Dutch overseas and maritime dominance. In addition, their presence reflects a new interest in plants as striking elements in gardens where their new colours, shapes and scents astonished visitors.

The astronomical prices that these exotic plants achieved reflected an extravagant passion for flowers of ever more outlandish shapes and forms. This botanical fever in a country with a population traditionally considered the embodiment of moderation and common sense has been explained in terms of the role played by the concept of luxury in a newly rich society that lacked the traditions of sumptuary expenditure associated with the great monarchies or with ecclesiastical patronage.

Fantin-Latour spent an increasing amount of time in the countryside, far from the bustle of Paris, and flowers eventually became the principal subject of his works. Although a contemporary of the Impressionists, he did not depict lush gardens or rural scenes but chose to focus on cut flowers. He carefully arranged the stalks and branches that he would then paint in the dim light of his studio, almost always against plain backgrounds in the manner of the great 17th century flower paintings. The Impressionist works on display in Rooms 32 and 33 thus offer an interesting comparison and contrast to Fantin-Latour’s compositions.

In one respect Fantin-Latour’s paintings differ from the Dutch depictions of vases filled with flowers, which present a wide range of varieties that are not to be found blooming together in their natural state. In contrast, Fantin-Latour selected a limited range of flowers given that his principal interest was the chromatic aspect of the painting. In the present canvas he chose a large bunch of yellow, white, lilac, pink and red chrysanthemums; a harmonious combination inspired by his love of music.

It should also be remembered that the 19th century saw the organisation of the first floral exhibitions and that interest in botany reached a new height, particularly with regard to oriental species thanks to the prevailing fashion known as japonisme. Chrysanthemums are Far Eastern flowers that symbolise beauty and vitality in their native region. In the West, however, they have become a symbol of mourning due to the fact that the flowers appear in the autumn.

In this sense, Impressionism can be seen to have formulated a new approach to the representation of flowers as it replaced the traditional still life with a radically different vision. Such works were now emptied of any narrative or anecdotal content and no longer involved concealed messages relating to religion or to the transitory nature of beauty. Flowers were now used as a surface on which to project the artist’s emotions and impressions or as the ideal vehicle for daring chromatic experiments. In contrast to the minutely detailed depiction of cut flowers in the 17th century, flowers now metamorphosed into patches of pigment and light that are at times so imprecise as to make identification of the particular species impossible.

This is the case with the present painting by Matisse, which was painted prior to the emergence of the Fauve movement. Here the reflection in the mirror of a simple bunch of flowers, possibly ranunculi, conveys a sensation of vibrant colour. The effect is comparable to the one achieved by Emile Nolde in Glowing Sunflowers, also on display in this room.

O’Keeffe herself, however, rejected such interpretations, as she stated, for example, in a catalogue text of 1939: “Well, I have managed to get you to see what I have seen and when you take the time to really see my flower you will attribute to it all your own associations about flowers, and you will write about my flower as if I were thinking and seeing what you think and see in that flower, but which I don’t see.”

The stickers on the door are particularly telling: human relationships often start with flowers and end with them. And flowers, as the images on credit cards and the name of this shop convey, are serially produced goods that have become available on a mass scale.