Showing posts with label 11th century manuscript. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 11th century manuscript. Show all posts

Sunday, April 26, 2015

To Ornament or Not... Part 1; the scale of things

Visiting again the topic of medieval depictions of furniture in artwork, this post will begin to examine the question of what sort of ornamentation a piece of furniture might have had, based on the evidence, or lack thereof, in the various surviving representations of all mediums. We will be comparing similar objects depicted in various scales to see if the size of the artwork had any bearing on what ornament was used in the illustration, sculpture, metalwork, or glass painting.



BNF Lat 266 fol 2v um 850



To begin with, I present a work from my favourite time period in medieval history; the 9th century. In this illustration, which art historians have come to call a "Christ Tetramorph", (Christ with the Four Evangelists represented with their non-human [animals and an angel] forms) we have two scales of representation of the same type of object; a book. The books which the four evangelist's symbols hold are smaller than that which Christ holds, and thus they have less ornamentation. In neither case do they give us any information regarding the actual appearance of a 9th century book, beyond the fact that they were ornamented to some degree, and had clasps around the edges to keep them closed. Any other information we wish to gain about ornamentation of objects in this time period must come from other sources.

For me, it is nice when possible, to compare other ornamental representations from the same artist. Thus, though the books these figures hold are not very detail oriented, by examining other decorations from the same artist, in the same book, we can get a better idea of what ornamentation may have been possible in the realm of that artist.



BNF Lat 266 fol 106v um 850



I am not suggesting that this would be the decoration of a book cover, but it is an ornamental frame or border, and shows scrolling leaves and knot-work, both types of decoration which we find on all sorts of surviving artifacts from the 9th century. Notice also, the even more simplified rendering of four books on the four edges of this frame.

Of even larger, and therefore more detailed decoration, are these two bands of stylised, entwined leaf and bud motifs from another page of the same gospel. In addition to being rendered with silver leaf, these patterns were large enough to be further enhanced by highlights and shadow which gave them, when newly painted, a three dimensional form. Sadly, most of that highlight and shading has worn off over the past 1200 years. (Can you imagine that?)




BNF Lat 266 fol 74v um 850



From another 9th century manuscript comes another of those Cannon Tables which I have mentioned in the past. This one is nicely rendered with Corinthian capitals, marble columns, acanthus leaf carving to the architrave, and a very cute little bird perched atop the the crest. Above the columns sit two figures on plinth chairs; their posture very expressive of someone with a lot on their mind. Of the chairs we can discern nothing beyond the fact that they have a cushion on them and their basic form, though even that is not very precise.




Épernay  MS 1-220 fol 14v  9jh



From the same gospel comes this illustration of St John (identified by his symbol, the eagle). John sits on a chair very much of the same form as our last two contemplative figures', but this illustration is large enough for the artist to begin suggesting some ornamentation to the furniture. We see the implication of carved feet on the lectern, and scrolling leaves on its top edge, as well as on the foot bench and the chair. Notice, however, the level of rendering to the leaves comprising the border of this painting. This could quite easily be a carved design running around any one of these pieces of furniture. It is my belief that that is precisely what the artist had in mind; carved ornamentation, when he painted this border.




Épernay  MS 1-220 fol 134v  9jh



I am not saying that this border represents the ornament of that depicted on this furniture; the basic form is different, but it could be used as the ornament of some piece of furniture - or carved or painted moulding around a door, a cornice, or any number of other applications where moulding would be used. It is simply a depiction of one pattern of 9th century carved and/or painted moulding.




Biblioteca Naţională a României, Ms R II 1 Zt 136 um 800 BA




The ornament which the artist had in mind for the chair, foot bench, and lectern were of a more scrolling design, as I said, so we should look for examples of this form of ornament to get an idea of what might have been possible. Fortunately, there are many examples of this form of ornament, which, with slight variation, can be found from Roman times through the 15th century. For the sake of this conversation though, we are considering 9th century ornament, so we should look for sources from that era. In several of the more important gospel books of the 8th and 9th century can be found ornamental borders and page dividers on each folio. These borders are depicted as various forms of actual decorative mediums such as gold and precious stones, cloisonné and champlevé enameling, marble, wood, mosaic and other forms of decoration contemporary with the time of the production of these books. One of these borders is pictured above, representing gold and enamel decoration; it shows the degree to which this simple scrolling vine and leaf motif can be taken. (See also the upright stiles in the Maximian chair back.below for another variation on this theme.)




BNF Lat 11751 fol 59v um 1025-75



Another set of illustration portraying chairs, this time from the 11th century, again demonstrates this same basic concept that the larger the illustration, the more ornament the same artist will use in the objects he portrays.There are three scales /degrees of this illustration. The top tier with Christ is the largest and therefore has the most detail. The lower tier depicting the Virgin Mary as Queen of heaven, is on the same scale as the other figures within this register, but since she is more important than the other occupants, more care was taken in her portrayal.

Everything in this illustration is again representational, yet the depiction of Christ shows a highly decorated book, multiple forms of ornamentation to his clothing, and a jeweled throne and footrest. The throne of the Virgin in form is more elaborate than that of the Christ, but the degree of its ornamentation is lesser. Furthermore, Mary only has a few dots on her clothing to represent pattern to the cloth and none of the other figures, save the one to her left (right hand side) has any at all. All the other seated figures' chairs are also less ornamented than that of the Virgin or Christ.

In reality, it would be logical for a king's throne or chair to be more ornate than that of the queen's and hers more so than other members of court, so this diminishing of decoration is accurate from that point of view, but none of these chairs give us a model from which we can build a reliable example of an 11th century chair. Each of them, in their different forms only serve to illustrate that chairs of their type were ornamented to some degree. Because of the scale and importance of each sitter, the only thing we can accurately conclude from this illustration is that the larger the illustration, the more ornament the artist would have used in his depiction.

If we accept the premise that the circles and tear-drop shaped lozenges represent the gem encrusted ornamentation favoured as decorative elements in the 11th century, then, by the varying degrees of scale in this illustration, we can not actually even draw the conclusion that Christ's chair is more highly ornamented than some of the other's. The decorations on the two chairs immediately the right and left of Mary also have these same shapes. Given the scale of these chairs, there are less actual circles and lozenge patterns to them, but they clearly indicate the same idea of bejeweled ornamentation.





Duccio - Madonna of the Franciscans c1287
235x160mm
(wikipedia)




One might still wish to argue the point that the throne of Christ is more ornamental than those of the other sitters because he is a more important figure. So, what if an artist portrays the same person in two different images, surely, regardless of scale, the ornamentation should be the same, right?

Here are two late 13th century paintings of the Madonna by Duccio, one of "the fathers of renaissance art". They both portray the Virgin Mary seated in a turned and carved chair, and having a two tiered, arcaded  foot bench beneath her feet. One chair is actually of a 'stool' form, as it has no back, but in essence, they are similar turned post chairs, the principal difference comes in the scale. The first painting, above, is tiny, at 160 milimetres wide; it is on the scale of illuminated manuscript paintings. The second Madonna, below, is four and one half metres tall, rendering the smaller figures near life size! Duccio had so much area to work with, he hardly knew what to do with it all. He spent a lot of energy ornamenting the panels to the point of impracticability, and added a lot of highlighting, to suggest a highly polished surface to the wooden parts. (Thomas Chippendale's drawings are often too delicate to be practical as well, but no one says his designs did not represent possibilities for actual furniture.)

The real distinction achieved by the vastly different scale of these two works, however, comes in comparing the fabric depicted in them. In the Madonna of the Franciscans panel, the 'Cloth of Honour' behind the Virgin is draped over a supporting frame, like the back of a chair, but separate from it. We can see this from the way the cloth is formed into a series of peaks and valleys and by the undulating fringe a third of the way down from the top edge. (it looks like a brown water stain) The artist made no attempt at depicting folds or overlaps in the pattern, or shading to the cloth which makes its form a bit difficult to discern. The ornamentation of the fabric is a simple white St Julian's cross form on a blue ground. It is highly probable that such a pattern could be found on cloth woven in the 13th century, but compare it to the brocade depicted in the painting which is larger than life. In this Rucellai Madonna, there is also a cross pattern, but also vine and tendrils, quatrefoils and other ornamental banding along with multiple colours, In short, because of the scale the artist had to work with, the fabric in this painting is truly spectacular. (Incidentally, the blue gown of the Virgin, at the time of this painting, would have, merely by its colour, spoken of immense wealth; indigo blue dye was one of the most costly colours in the medieval world.)




Duccio - Rucellai Madonna 1285 Bildausschnitt
Detail of the lower left corner



Lewis Chessman, Bishop - Rear View
1st half (>) of the 12th century
(Flickr)



Many people, on seeing the Lewis Chessmen, feel that they are quite representational of furniture ornamentation. Perhaps they are, but it would be a very heavy and clumsy chair if one were to scale this design up to the size of a proper chair. It does, however, have the elements of decoration from the 10th through 12th centuries, so in concept, it is a good source of information on possible ornamentation of an actual object.




Schloß Quedlinburg, back panel of the  Kaiserstuhl
c 1045-50
(apologies for the sideways picture, Google refuses to stop flipping it when I
 load it for some reason) picture found on Flickr 



I wanted to avoid the temptation of comparing actual examples with artistic representations of similar objects in this post, but at the same time, an ivory sculpture of 90 milimetres and a bronze chair back (which is actually a sculpture in its most fundamental concept) of around 900 milimetres cannot be passed by, in this context. This design is too similar to that of the chess piece to not recognise it as of the same type of ornamentation. This type of ornament could also have been carved into a wooden panel, and/or could also have been painted on a chair back, giving us numerous possibilities of possible ornamentation of a chair back in this time period.




Maximian's Chair, Ravenna mid 6th cent.
(from Wikipedia)
Maximian's Chair, Ravenna , Detail of  back panel



Whilst on the subject of comparing actual objects to that in the artwork, what better way of illustrating this than showing an historical furniture object which, itself, has depictions of chairs in its very ornamentation. Such is the case with this Chair of Maximian (which I have featured before). This is a fascinating piece of surviving furniture from the beginning of the Middle Ages; it shows the degree of ornamentation used in an important person's (a bishop, in this case) chair.

By comparing this real life chair to an illustration of a chair within its decoration, we can see the degree of simplification which goes into illustrating actual objects This left panel on the back of the chair has a Mother and Child, an image that would persist for more than a thousand years, virtually unchanged. The Mother Mary sits in a chair not unlike the one which this representation is ornamenting, though the actual chair has a partial wrap-around back and this depicted one does not. The only ornamentation to the depicted chair is a set of double lines on each of the straight members, and ball finials like those on the real chair.

I do not mean to keep wearing out the subject of chairs, but they seem to be the most common form of furniture in medieval artwork. Here is another example of one installation with numerous chairs with varying degrees of ornamentation, according to their scale and level of importance within the overall composition.




St Luke, Burgos Cathedral tympanum c 1235



This is part of a tympanum on the west (if memory serves correctly) facade of the cathedral of Burgos, in Spain. St Luke, seated in the largest chair, has a much more ornamented one than the saints which are in the volutes of the arch. In the centre of this sculpture, but not shown in this picture, is a Christ seated on an even larger,and therefore more elaborately ornamented chair. In addition, in a higher tier, there are two more smaller figures, (Mathew and Mark) at similar desks but their chairs are also less ornamented, and the desks do not have the carved floral pattern to the moulded edge. (there is a figure of St John, similar to this one, on the right side as well)

One of the reasons I wanted to use this illustration, however, is that immediately below the seated figure is a very similarly treated arcade to that of the chair, but because it is larger, the artist included more detail. Instead of the curls on the ends of the arch ending in scroll terminals, they end in human head form. (It is also worth noting that the finials to the posts on the chair have been broken off, as has the arm of St Luke.)




The Birth of St Edmund
BL Harley MS 2278, fol. 13v zw 1434-9
this miniature is approximately 120mm square



I began this post with a couple of items from my favourite time period, but am well aware that most people with an interest in the "Middle Ages" tend to prefer things from the 14th and 15th century; the same concepts still hold true for this part of the millennium as well, as can be observed by comparing the following two illuminations.

Here we have a lovely bedroom scene from the first half of the 15th century. It is not painted with as much detail as one sees in a Rober Campin, or Rogier van der Weyden painting, but the scale is much smaller and thus it would be very difficult to achieve that level of realism. Nonetheless, there is ample information for the seeker of medieval interior details to feast the eyes upon in this painting.

There are plenty of actual objects in museums for us to observe their physical appearance, but here we have a reference to types of objects found in a wealthy person's chamber. These include a fireplace with niches for the display of ornamental objects, of metal, ceramic, and glass. We find ornamental andirons in the fire, and a patterned carpet on a tile floor. The mother of St Edmund, who is the focus of all the attention in this painting, lies in a canopied bed. This illustration shows us, unlike so many other paintings, the fact that a rich person's draperies, covers, and bed hangings would have been made of ornamented (brocade) fabric. It also, with an economy of effort, shows us that the walls would have also been decorated, though most medieval illustrations leave them blank.

There are a few pieces of furniture in this painting, but the scale of them is too small to add detail. We see a backless bench of plinth chair form, a barrel backed armchair, and a buffet. The physical ornamentation of these objects were unimportant to the artist, he merely put them here to fill in the scene with as much detail as the space warranted, based on his scale of rendering, in order to give the feel of a habited living environment. The other objects in the painting are also there to add to the sense of wealth in a busy life filled room of a nobleman's household. These items, however, were not essential to the picture, as the next illustration shows. 





Birth and Christening of St Fremund
BL Harley MS 2278, fol. 72r 



This miniature is the same size as the preceding one, but the interest in comparing the two comes from the fact that this second illustration has two scenes in it, requiring the artist to simplify the pictures in order to make them smaller. On the left side we see another bedroom scene, but this time, most of the household objects are left out. There is one ewer beside the fireplace and a cushion on the floor; the only other object, aside from the bed, is a brazier used to put coals in. This object allows heat to be placed at the opposite side of the room from the fireplace. (From personal experience, I can tell you that it does a great deal to help keep a room warm on a cold winter day.) With only half the space to work with, and needing to retain the figures, which are the important part of the picture from the point of view of the original readers, (They did not need to see what a 15th century room looked like, they were already in one!) the artist had to economise somehow. He did so by omitting most of the objects. The overall level of detail is the same as the preceding illustration, but because less space was available, fewer objects and furnishings were depicted. This in no way tells us anything about the actual quantity of objects in a room, and should give us a cautionary lesson about judging the furnishings and decor of any actual room based on what we see in most medieval artworks.

I have given many illustrations here of degrees of ornamentation, in most cases by the same artist, to like or similar objects. In no way am I suggesting that every object was highly ornamented, but at the same time, I wish to make the reader aware that medieval furniture was usually much more ornamented than most depictions which we find in the artwork of the Middle Ages. People of that time loved ornamentation, and whether they were poor or rich, they decorated their objects to the best of their means. A king and a yeoman could both have a chair of similar form, the key difference in the two would have been the materials used in their construction and decoration. If one could not afford, or did not wish to have gold and gems, enamels, or ivory, he could still have something carved, or painted, but his possessions would have been decorated in some manner. Nearly every object which we find from the medieval period bears this out; those that do not, are not in a good state of preservation and thus cannot tell us how they appeared when new. Gold and gems are stolen or re-used for other purposes, paint peels and fades, dyes fade and lose their colours, cloth rots, wood is consumed by moisture, worms and fire, and gilding and moulded gesso flake off, leaving us with a sad shadow of the beauty that was originally found on these objects. Happily, not all objects are thus destroyed, and we can see from many of them them the true spirit of ornamentation in the Middle Ages.





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Sunday, March 29, 2015

Interpreting medieval art; part I - perspective

Nearly anyone interested in medieval history will sooner or later find themselves pouring over illuminated manuscript paintings in search of information to their particular interests. Since the time of the Roman Empire, artists have been using paintings to illustrate the more important or expensive books. These illuminations are some of the best resources we have on many objects from the Middle Ages, and are therefore a great resource to call upon when one is in search of information from those long past ages. Those interested in military subjects will search for clues to armour and weapons, textile enthusiasts can glean forms of clothing and draperies, whilst still others, such as myself; a cabinetmaker, search for clues to furniture and interiors. The crucial thing to remember here, however, is that the key word is clues. No matter how realistic the illustrations seem to be, they are not photographs, and were not actually meant to portray anything other than ideas and concepts. In many instances, it would be utterly impossible to make the objects portrayed because they defy reality. This blog posting will be dedicated to the interpretation of some of the curiosities which may be seen in such artworks, and show that we cannot simply try to recreate what we see in a manuscript by using it as a 'plan' for an object.




What are they eating?
WLB Cod.bibl.fol.23 Stuttgart Psalter fol 146v
Many modern would-be medieval enthusiast put too much of their own way of seeing the world into the way they look at medieval artwork. They forget that those illustrating the manuscripts were not doing so to show us, in the 20th century, what life was like at the time of their original creation. We can no more gain a clear picture of medieval life from viewing them, than someone a thousand years from now, would know what objects from our century looked like by viewing an episode of the Simpsons and watching Steamboat Willie, even though we, on seeing those images, know exactly what they are in reference to. It was the same way with the medieval illustrators; they gave a few strokes of the pen and brush and created images which would have made sense to those who originally viewed them.

Just as I mentioned in my last medieval topic posting, however, there were also the factors of skill and personal style involved in the artwork of illuminations. To make a modern analogy of this point let us ask, "are the artists of Peanuts less skilled than those who created Robin Hood' (one of my favourite animations) 'for Disney?" I do not know, nor will I try to make such a judgement, but anyone can plainly see there is a marked difference in the style of the two; the Peanuts creators chose a much more loose and minimalistic approach to their work, significantly more detail is left to the imagination of the viewer, yet we are still able to grasp what is not represented by the fact that there are enough suggestions in the strips to give us references to the things we know. Although, representationally, Robin Hood may seem more "realistic" with its more careful renderings, it is in fact, less so because all the characters are portrayed as animals. We have no problem 'translating' them in our minds as we see them, and hardly notice that they are not even human as we watch the story unfold.

Since these cartoons were created in our lifetime, we have no problem understanding what they represent, but what would someone a thousand years from now get out of the cartoons we have? Would they think people were yellow? Our cars were boxes with wheels? Modern reenactors can, and often do, make the same sort of mistakes with medieval illustrations, by interpreting whatever is depicted in them at face value. There are likely things we understand to show one thing, whilst the original creator had something entirely different in mind, and there might be no way of us learning our error. The easiest way to make such mistakes is to look at the pictures through our modern eyes.Take the illustration above; I would not be a bit surprised if I found this picture on some blog declaring that "potato crisps were consumed in the Middle Ages" because, to our modern eyes, that is exactly what it looks like they are doing.

When it comes to objects, we can often get tripped up by a simple misunderstanding of the way the original artist drew them. We have grown up with cameras, which (usually) capture things as they appear, and we have also benefited from the fact that the art of perspective drawing was perfected more than 500 years ago, therefore, we are accustomed to seeing things in a more realistically portrayed manner. 

I taught perspective design at an architectural design school in Korea right after college. The comprehension of the concept of perspective drawing came rather naturally to me, but I have also learned to recognise the problems created by those who have a harder time understanding it. One of the simplest ways a novice gets tripped up, for instance, is in drawing buildings with four square walls and a 'hip' (triangular in elevation) roof. This very problem is present in the above illustration where a hand offers some sort of building (reading the text which accompanies this psalm might help a bit to know what it represents) from the sky. This building just does not look right because it seems to have one end sawn off.

St. Gallen, Stiftsbibliothek, Cod. Sang. 565, zt. 242



Here is another building from a different manuscript used to show how this sort of problem occurs. I actually got into a fight in middle school, with another kid in my class, because I was drawing houses in perspective and he thought they should be drawn like this. The problem comes from the fact that the artist is trying to combine two separate views into one. Basically, he is trying to incorporate a front and side elevation into one homogeneous image; he knows that the side wall is straight (green rectangle) and the roof is in line with it; he also knows that, seen from the end, the roof portion is triangular in shape (Orange). My classmate actually thought that a house drawn in proper perspective looked like the roof was cut off. I mention this because it might help to explain what a medieval artist could have been thinking as he worked.

The simple squared off building is only the beginning of the 'mistakes' one will encounter in many medieval illustrations. (It is also worth noting, that in all periods, some artists managed to get it closer to right than others.) Another common problem one encounters, is an attempt to depict too many sides of an object, Some pictures of buildings and furniture try to show three sides at once, which is quite impossible. I have even seen instances where all four sides have been attempted, leaving the uninitiated with the impression that the object must have had a polygonal form.


BNF Lat 8850 (Gospels of St. Medard de Soissons) c800
St Mathew composing his Gospel

Another problem that often crops up is getting all the parts to fit properly. Medieval artists did not have the advantage we have of a pencil rubber, therefore what they drew the first time was pretty much what they were stuck with. In the above illustration, we see a chair which appears to have a diagonal corner at the back. This comes from the fact that the artist wanted to have enough room on the seat to allow for the cushion, he also did not want to have the post at the back too close, or even overlapping, the column, which is what would have happened had he brought the back and side lines together. The solution, in his mind, was simple; just connect the two with a third line. As I said, he was not trying to show us what such a chair looked like, the original audience it was intended for, 1200 years ago, already knew.


Bodelaian MS Janius 11
the Birth of Cain and Abel from the Caedmon manuscript
c1000 AD
I already mentioned the attempts to depict too many sides of one object, but here is an example; Eve lies in her bed and has just given birth to her second son. Here the artist is completely uninterested in a "the way it would have been" sort of scenario, he is just trying, with a minimal amount of effort, to depict the notion of Adam and Eve and the birth of their first two children. Whilst this drawing might seem "crude", on first glance, if one looks more carefully, he will be able to notice the efficient use of  steady lines; the careful control of the pen gives weight and volume to the fabric and clothing of the figures, The equal of any modern cartoon artist; with the careful and deliberate execution of the most economical tick of his pen, this artist renders life and character to the faces of these figures, Though the perspective is all out of sorts, this is no slouch artist scratching around trying to get a picture together; this was simply his taste and style, as influenced by the other art he was exposed to, in his time and place in history.

To the modern person, looking for clues to medieval furniture, there is not much to go on here, the "bed" is simply a box; other illustrations from the time show us that beds looked like beds, with posts and so forth, so the artist was simply showing an object to represent any bed, not drawing a bed for us to reconstruct. (This is not meant in any way, however, to imply that there could not have been box beds; there certainly are existing examples from the 15th century.) One thing that is interesting, however, is the way he indicated framed panels for his box. In a world where the furniture was supposedly hacked out of logs, even this overly simplified drawing show more than that.

As topsy turvy as this illustration seems, it is less difficult to decipher than the chair in the next illustration.

Pope Gregory the Great
St. Gallen, Stiftsbibliothek, Cod. Sang. 376, Zt. 319
11th century

In this painting, it seems that the artist wanted to make a full frontal image of the chair in order to maximise the grandeur of the sitter. This was a formal pose used for important people going back even earlier than the Roman period, where we find ivory panels with emperors depicted on thrones in this formula. In this case, however, the artist also wanted to show a little of the way the chair was constructed, so he added the back legs inside of the front legs; this allowed him to show the horizontal stretchers connecting the front and back. Of course this is an impossibility, as the back legs would be directly in line with the posts supporting the drapery behind the sitter. If true perspective were used, the back would seem narrower than the front, which would not suit the purpose of the artist who's primary goal was to portray the expanse of drapery behind the pope. He actually has a bit of 'reverse perspective' going on with the seat, which is trapezoidal in depiction. As was already mentioned, using proper perspective would have made the back narrower than the front, which the artist did not want to do, though he knew from observation, that a trapezoid is the shape that a flat rectangular surface takes on when one is looking at it from a natural view point.

One certainly could not use this drawing to construct an actual chair, but it does give us some clues as to what such a chair might have looked like in the 11th century. What we can learn from this image, is that at least some chairs had a form familiar to us; with a tall back set between two post, a seat, and stretchers connecting the front and back legs. We can also observe that this was intended to represent a very ornate seat, not a simple or plain one. What it does not show us, is the form the legs have; are they round or square? Since the parts are all drawn two dimensionally it is not possible to know that answer. In Part Two of this article, I will show how, using this drawing and other types of medieval art, we can begin to piece together a possible idea of the type of chair the artist had in mind when he produced this fascinating work nearly a thousand years ago.


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Sunday, February 22, 2015

A Lot Can be Learned from a Single Miniature

Note; all images in this blog were sourced from the web, Their present location is noted, when known

A couple weeks ago I did an article on chairs; one of the images featured in that article got me to thinking about a lot of other things besides chairs which were revealed in that miniature. This blog posting will examine that one tiny "historiated initial" for some of the many things we can learn about the Middle Ages from it.
British Library, Egerton
MS 809 fol 17r c1100
This post is in a different writing format to that which I am accustomed to using, in hopes of making it easier for the "too busy" people to still have time to read it.

A medieval miniature is not something to be interpreted in a literal way, they are not photographs, nor were they meant to show 20th century viewers what life at the time of their creation "was like"; they were visual cues to the original viewers, who would readily understand their references. In this little illustration are found many examples which can demonstrate this fact.

According to the story, there were 12 disciples present at the Last Supper, yet here only ten are portrayed. From this point alone, we can infer that the artist was not overly concerned with exact details.
Only 10 of the twelve disciples are depicted, but...
Medieval artwork is filled with both symbols and symbolism, Here we find the image of the halo, which was an emblem that evolved over the middle ages, from an emblem showing the sacredness of Christ, to one showing holiness of saints in general. Although there are only 10 disciples portrayed, the artist did include 12 halos to represent all the disciples present; there simply was not enough room to fit them all into the picture.
... there are 12 halos representing all 12 apostles.
Symbolism in art was a semi-fluid phenomenon, what was portrayed in a particular way in one era gave way to a different format in another. In the later middle ages, Judas was always portrayed without an halo, symbolizing his lack of 'saintliness', yet in this miniature we see he has one, at the same time, two other disciples do not. The fact that Judas sits on the opposite side of the table from the other disciples is this artist means of portraying his true outcast status, this became the general formula for most other depictions of this scene in all succeeding centuries of the Middle Ages.
Black arrow pointing out Judas's Halo, two other disciples
with no halo pointed out in yellow
Although Judas is portrayed with an halo,  (Other illustrators had already began omitting his halo by the 12th century) there is a black raven which further symbolizes the evil spirit of Judas's heart. This is, again, a non-literal object in the illustration.
A raven is a medieval symbol of evil

Interpreting the physical objects in this miniature in a literal way also poses many difficulties. 11 men cannot fit on a straight bench and all reach something on a round table, it just is not physically possible. Two dimensional images allow many 'optical illusions'. At the base of the table, we can see the apostles feet on a straight footrest, yet even those on the end are shown as able to reach to the centre of the table.
The arrows point out the footrest which is in front of the
(not pictured, but implied) bench.
(Other versions of this picture actually show a bench too.)

Another difficulty we encounter by trying to use the elements in this image in a literal manner to reconstruct actual objects, would be the chair which Judas occupies. Medieval artists did not have a sense of perspective as is generally now used in artwork to give an illusion of three dimensional-ism, thus we encounter all sorts of problems with arranging the various parts of an objects in a realistic way. The problem this artist got into was one which many artists even today encounter.
By attempting to make the chair fit the form
of the seated occupant, it was necessary to
depict the seat at a slanted angle.
There is an mental conflict of fighting the form we know something has, versus what it appears like when drawn on paper. in this case, the artist knew that a chair seems to slope 'uphill' when viewed, but at the same time, he knows what the profile of the chair looks like, and he knows that it and the table behind it, both rest on a floor which is flat and level, thus he is confused as to how to merge those three concepts into one image. This is a common problem throughout the medieval period, and has tripped up many modern persons attempting to interpret what they see in a painting.
The artist knows that the floor is flat, but he also observes
that the chair seems to slope upwards when viewed
This image of a chair from the website Blood and Sawdust is of very similar form to the one depicted in the miniature, but its legs are thinner and less artfully turned, and the finials are much simpler.

Another interesting point to be made from the observation of this illuminated initial is in reference to the table. Most books and websites referring to medieval furniture will give some version of the idea that "tables were boards set on top of trestles" (many of them were), but here we see a round table with artfully turned legs. Again, this is not a 'plan' to use to make a table from, but it shows a type of table, and the basic form of the legs. The little dots may refer to additional carving or other ornamentation. If we wish to have a better idea of what a table such as the artist had in mind might have looked like, we would need to consult sculptures, columns, relics, and other three dimensional objects with similar forms.
This view points out the turned legs of the table
The following illustration comes from a Carolingian ivory panel, depicting St John, perhaps this is the sort of foot the artist had in mind for the table.
From an ivory panel in the Metropolitan Museum
of Art
Another actual medieval object with this knob and plinth foot detail can be found in the  Residenz München Schatzkammer. This is a late 9th century portable altar from the time of King Arnulf.
Notice that it even has little beads as ornament

The fact that this table is not an anomaly is shown by examining another slightly earlier (and lest artistically accomplished) version of the same scene from a manuscript of about 1050, held in one of the medieval libraries of Switzerland. (from e-codices website Sarnen, Benediktinerkollegium Cod. 83 fol 6r)

In this illustration, the legs are
of straight turned  form, but they
also show a swelled foot, very
much like the 'bun' feet of
much 17th century furniture
It is very useful to consult medieval artworks for clues to a bygone age, but it is also very important not to view things with a modern sense of photographic depiction in mind. They must not be interpreted literally, or as 'plans' and 'illustrations' of exact objects. The key here, is that they are only one part of a complex puzzle, and, like a murder mystery, unless one finds all the clues, he will not have a clear idea of "who done it", or in this case, "what it looked like".