12th Century Style Painted Dragon

Last Autumn I got a commission to do a painting of a dragon; the what and how of it was entirely up to me. Since I love medieval things, I naturally went in that direction. Several years before, I had come across an illuminated letter in Amiens BM142 an illuminated Manuscript in the Amiens library. This is a "lectionary" produced in Corbie Abbey around 1150 which is full of fun animals in vegetal swirls. All of the decorations which are called "illuminated initials" (first letters of words drawn with pictures or other decorations) are fantastic, but I was drawn to this dragon, especially. At the time I first saw it, I worked out a sketch, taking it from a roughly square format to a vertical one and eliminating its use as a letter, totally focusing on the dragon as a stand alone artwork. 

Detail from the 12th century style dragon
painted with hand-made traditional egg tempera

When I got the commission, I instantly knew that I already had my planning stage nearly finished. so I transferred it onto some watercolour paper and did a bit more fine tuning of the design. At this stage I had to think about how I would paint it. When I initially drew it eight years ago, I had thought I would paint it in the same manner as the original, but as a commissioned work it needed more colour and substance.

Amiens, BM MS 0142; the inspirational source

Drawn out and ready with the
 illuminator's bole

Applying the bole
(Still taken from a video)

After application of the bole

A lot of medieval painting and artwork from the 10th into the14th centuries utilised a gilded background as the basis for the painting. That seemed like a perfect starting point for this work as well, so I began by making up some traditional illuminator's bole ("bole" is the substance that the gold is stuck to in gilding work) from a mixture of yellow clay, animal glue, egg white, and honey. This I applied to the proper areas and then applied the gold. With this type of bole, one moistens the surface by breathing on it and then immediately pressing the gold into the freshly dampened area. One must go over it two or three times in this manner to get complete and deep coverage of the gilding.

23.5 karat gold leaf applied to the bole

Once the gilding has been done, the painting starts. To make the paint, one takes mineral powders of a desired colour and puts them on a heavy flat stone, adds a bit of water and then with a muller, begins to grind the pigment into a smooth paste. The grinding finished, the artist scoops up the mixture and adds it to an equal portion of egg yolk that has been mixed with water. This is the binder which turns what is essentially "coloured mud" into paint. For this style of art, each colour is painted on one at a time and there is no "blending" or mixing of colours. Any shading that occurs is done by lightening the saturation of pigment or over-painting with a lighter or darker colour.

The first two colours

The method of grinding the paint and the egg
used for the binder seen in a small jar

Rather like a "paint by number" the picture
slowly comes to life

The painting process went on nicely and I really enjoy painting with this medium. It almost transports one back in time working in this method. For even more "authenticity" I opt to use clam shells for my paint cups. Something that I have seen in a couple of 14th century illustrations. It is fun to see the painting "come to life" one colour at a time.

Nearing completion, but there is a flaw...

Even though I decided not to paint in the same manner as the original, which is actually painted with coloured inks as opposed to egg tempera, I did draw heavily from the colour arrangement that the original artist used. Two new colours, blue and a purple were added, but I still got in trouble when it came to not having two of the same colour beside each other. Because the original artist was using ink, and thus left a lot of white parchment show through, he was able to make a line on one side of a shape in one colour, but the opposite side of the same shape was done with a contrasting colour, thus ensuring that no two colours bordered each other. Painting in solid form, however, soon produced a "choke point" where the intertwining tail came back on itself, causing the green to encounter more green. I first tried to solve this by lightening the edge of the larger section of the tail, but this did not look authentic and I was not happy with it. 

The good thing is that freshly painted tempera can be easily scraped off and one has a chance to have another go at it. Incidentally, medieval scribes are almost always depicted with a feather (their pen) and a knife. The knife is both for sharpening the pen and as a "rubber" for removing mistakes or making corrections in the work. Turns out this is a very crucial piece of equipment.

After scraping and the beginning of some
colour changes

To keep the "flow" the orange of the body
was extended to the first break before
switching to the green of the tail

The funny thing is, once you decide that one area has to be changed, it affects other areas and soon you have a "snowball" effect going and lots of colour has to be removed and changed. Fortunately the avalanche was not huge and I found a stopping place for the scraping. Several areas had to have their colours re-done differently to maintain harmony and balance, but I think overall there was an improvement in the outcome.

At the same time, I also made another change to an area that had been vexing me, but until that point, I had not thought of how to fix it. I wanted the gold background to extend more on the righthand side, but there was no natural break in the design to conceal the transition. Every other place with the exception of one, in the entire picture has outlines for colour breaks. That one spot, between the blue and the green of the background in the final curl of the dragon's tail gave me the clue on how to do it, but it took me a while to realise how to adapt the idea elsewhere. The end solution was to have a serpentine line making the break between the green and the gold. (A keen observer will also note that I changed the colour of green for the background; this was because the original was too close to the green of the tail and did not provide enough contrast.)

 

The finished dragon

The final step, in keeping with the style of the medieval source material, was to add white highlights and then to outline all the major components in black. In all, this was an extremely fun and inspiring work and I thoroughly enjoyed my time doing it. The client was also extremely pleased with the outcome.

I am always accepting new commissions; feel free to reach out to initiate your very own special project. I may be contacted by phone, (number at the top in the banner) or through Instagram or WhatsApp. at Johann International.

Fine

The Painted and Gilt 7th century Box is Finished

More than seven years ago, I began working on my "7th Century Box" project. At the time, I had no idea that it would be this long in the making, but this past week, it finally got "finished". Actually, it really is not finished yet, because it still wants hinges, a handle, a lock and some textile lining.

 

 

The finished front (minus a lock)

 

 

The main reason for making this box, besides that I wanted to, was to demonstrate the potential decorative qualities of  objects from a time when so few are available; and to show that the world was not as drab bleak and crude as what people are want to portray it, through their own cultural ignorance and biases. 

To be sure, this was no "ordinary" man's chest, but it is something that could have existed, and if it did, it would look, when new, just as this does; every aspect of it was crafted with tools and techniques available in the 7th century. In this post, I shall tell a bit of how I came to decorate it as I did and the thought process behind those choices.

 

I already revealed my sources of inspiration for the design in previous posts on the topic, like this first one, from September of 2018 (When I had already been working on it for nearly a year) so there is no point to repeat myself here.

 

 

 

Mosaic of Saint'Apollonair in Classe, Ravenna

 

 

The mosaic shown above was created in the sixth century, so would have been roughly one hundred years old by the time of our box, yet it shows the beginnings of the stylisation of the trees, as they appear on our box. This artwork would doubtlessly have influenced later generations, as it was on view throughout the entire span of the "Middle Ages".

In decorating this box, the overall colour theme was inspired by a couple frescoes and an "illuminated manuscript" page, all from our target period of "the 7th century". The colours, or "pallet" I chose mostly came from this manuscript. Different colours were available in different regions and according to one's budget. The type of painting that one was doing could also affect the colours that one had to work with. Some colours were available for books, but not for walls or furnishings, whilst other colours were available for any type of surface. It was those sorts of colours that I chose for this box. All of them, save the blue and black, which comes from woad and charcoal, respectively, began as ground up minerals (stones),

 

 

From the Codex Amiatinus comes several inspirations, including colours

A good source of information on horse trappings came from this fresco

Two wall paintings that lent a lot of information to this project came from 7th century fragments preserved in Santa Maria, Antiqua, in Rome. Seeing this equestrian painting, in particular, helped a great deal in better understanding where the original carver was coming from with his design, which I mostly followed, for the front panel.The harness and the saddle are the same, and the pose of the horse seems to be similar to my left-most horse. It even gave inspiration for the decoration of the rider's hose and shoes.

 

View of the front of the lid with birds

The back, with small birds and a "textile, design on the lid

 

 

Birds were a very common early mediaeval theme in the arts; since I love them as well, it was natural to incorporate them into my box.  The method of colouring them was informed by several illuminated manuscripts, of which I have included a couple pages, below. 

Birds in 7th century art

More birds and ornamental details, Note their multi-coloured nature

Details showing multi-coloured strap-work and banding

 

Speaking of colour, a series of surviving pages from the so-called "Stockholm Codex Aureus" (Early 8th century) was my main inspiration for how to go about colouring the main back panel. The above picture is a compressed view of part of two sides of an arch used as a "Eusebian Cannon Table" in the manuscript. The colours, as well as the black background where what I took away from this. 

 

 

7th century linen and wool textile with roundel motif

Since we are discussing the back, I might as well end that topic by mentioning that from the moments I saw the original carved marble slab that inspired the back of the lid, I always understood that to represent textile. There are many preserved fragments of 7th century textiles, from Egypt as well as sources along the "Silk Road" which show this basic repeat "roundel" pattern, so it was to imitate this type of fabric that I coloured it. I had a 9th century illuminated manuscript page in mind, which gave me the idea of the purple and gold, but purple was, since the Roman times, a sign of wealth, so there is no reason to think that one would not have used such a colour for this purpose. In fact, there are several surviving 7th century Sogdian silk fragments in Museums around the world, done with purple. 

Back and right-hand end

Right lid end with lions; an ever present theme as well

7th century buckle with "Daniel Among the Lions"

Right end detail

Another painting from Santa Maria Antigua in Rome

 

In 9th century illuminated manuscripts, there are many versions of overlapping circles with gradient colours, and I had seen several 7th and early 8th as well as a 6th century examples of other shapes showing the same gradient theme, (See the above manuscript from which I drew inspiration for the colours) but I was not able to find a 7th century one specifically with overlapping circles. I really expected that they would have used such a motif because it seemed to be such a popular mode of ornamentation, but I searched for a long time to find something to support my hunch. I did eventually find evidence in the fresco, shown above; some of the paint has worn off, so the gradient effect has been partially lost, but it definitely shows the concept.  Of all of the carved elements on this box, this is the one that I am the most confident in how it would have been painted in the target century. 

 

 

Left end

In the unfinished carving, it was the left end I liked best, thus I put it together this way, because I like to "read" a piece of furniture from the left corner, but after the painting, I really loved the right end, and wished I had put the thing together differently. This end panel works well with the lions above, though, and it all works well as a complete piece. I really had nothing much to go on, for the painting of this animal, other than a couple illustrations of lions and imaginary creatures, which this is. All are mostly painted in single colours, with outlines accents, as I have done here.
 

 

Gilded arcade detail on the front of the box

Gold-plated 7th century bronze medallion

Detail of a 7th century gold-foil votive cross

 

Another thing that was very clear to me, when starting on this project, was how similar the surviving carvings of the period were to metalwork, which the semi-nomadic Germanic tribes had been famous for for centuries. As this was their preferred manner of ornamentation, it is no wonder that other types of decoration would resemble and imitate that form. I also suspect that originally, a lot of the carved interior stonework would have been gilded much as I have done with this box. Once the gilding is on, it really does looks just like metalwork. In the 7th century writings, concerning St Eligius, we are informed of the practice of gilding stone altars, specifically.

 

Some people might think that this box is too elaborate and sophisticated for the 7th century, but I again repeat that that is only because we have been brainwashed into supposing the people of that time to be simple rustics living in squalor and gloom. Below, I share a couple of actual 7th century caskets that have survived to our present age; by these, you can see that my box is less involved than they are. More "man-hours" would have been spent to make these than what I spent on my box.

 

7th century Reliquary; missing many of its jewels

Another 7th century reliquary

 

Should you still be skeptical, because these are metal, not wood, I will say that actually, the first one, above is wood, and has been carved out to accommodate the metal inlay, (no mean feat, for sure) but there are other examples of fine wood carving from the 7th century as well. Here is a door from a painted cupboard Someone has sawn the eagles off, perhaps to apply as decoration to something else? Were they gilded? It is hard to say. The book cover is leather, but someone had to carve the form into which it was pressed, to create the design, so that counts, as well.

 

 

 

Cover of St Cuthbert's personal gospel book

cupboard door from the "6th or 7th century"

Some readers might note the mixture of Roman influences with that of the "migration" art of this box. This is no accident. First of all, the original carvings from which I drew inspiration also had this mixture, such as the classical columns on the ends of migration-style sarcophagi. This blending of styles was the beginning of "European art", and is exhibited in many branches of the arts, such as this 7th century illuminated manuscript page, below.

 

 

A blending of Roman and Germanic art styles

Note, also the gradient colours (red and blue), that I mentioned earlier. It would take several hundred more years for European art to fully homoginise into itself, but it never stopped looking back to Roman models, contrary to the commonly held notion of "rediscovering" it in the renaissance.

 

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Lots of Gold

There was a recent extensive restoration project at the Mellon Auditorium, in Washington DC. Several companies and contractors each got a slice of the pie, and I got a couple crumbs from one of those companies for doing the gilding of the doors in the main hall.

 

 

The first finished door leaf

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There were 11 sets of double doors and two pair of doors with lion's head carvings either side of the stage, in the front of the auditorium. The company that commissioned me to do the gilding was responsible for the restoration of those doors and the framework surrounding them.

One of four "lion doors" these were my favourite

"Close up" of the lion. Very nicely carved

All the doors had been removed and were restored in their facility, which made it much more convenient for gilding than if they had to be done in place, however, the frames and transoms were not easily removed, so they had to remain in situ. Thus, after completing the doors, I had to work at the auditorium for a couple weeks, gilding those parts. 

Gilding a transom. Thank you to Christian for the photo

It was a big project, but I thoroughly enjoyed it, and was happy to have a job doing so much gilding, since I love working with gold leaf. In the end, the project turned up well and everyone was very happy with all of the work done. The auditorium is now finished and dazzling again, as when it was newly built, nearly one hundred years ago.

A finished pair installed

Each door leaf is over three metres tall and 75mm thick. They are constructed of oak and are so heavy that it requires two men to carry a single leaf. Even so, when one is in the auditorium, they actually appear tiny and almost insignificant.

View from the balcony looking towards the stage

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