‘What if ?’

As the month of May concluded, contact tracers were actively tracking down potential COVID contacts and exposure sites around the city of Melbourne while case numbers grew. Curiously, this ‘hunting’ expedition encouraged me to explore the first illuminated manuscript acquired by the National Gallery of Victoria – ‘The Wharncliffe Hours’.

Dating from the 1470s, this French ‘Book of Hours’ is named after a later English owner, Edward Stuart Wortley Mackenzie, who became the first Earl of Wharncliffe in 1876. Little is known of the book’s provenance (despite considerable detective work) but on its discovery in the late third Earl’s possessions, it was sent to Christie’s auction house with other family items in 1920. It was here that the NGV purchased the book using money from the Felton Bequest. It is interesting to note that while the London press regarded the purchase as a ‘a masterpiece for Australia’ and a coup for Melbourne, local commentators were less enthusiastic and complained that the NGV was acquiring a ‘collection of curiosities’.

A ‘Book of Hours’ was a Christian devotional book which was popular in the Middle Ages and is the most common type of surviving illuminated manuscript. These books typically contained the Calendar of Church feasts, extracts from the Four Gospels, Mass readings for major feasts, the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin, the seven Penitential Psalms, a Litany of Saints, the Office of the Dead and the Hours of the Cross. All these can be found in the 116 folios of the Wharncliffe Hours.

The illuminator of the NGV book is known today as Maître François, the head of one of the foremost ateliers in Paris in the second half of the 15^th century. His workshop had its origins in the 1440s and by the 1460s (and for the next 20 years), Maître François was its artistic leader. For the Wharncliffe Hours the illustrator produced forty-two miniatures ranging in size from the small rectangular vignettes (which illustrate the calendar pages, the Gospel extracts and two ‘suffrages’ in honour of the saints) to three full-page paintings which introduce the major devotional texts.

Although calendars were not required in a Book of Hours, a liturgical calendar became a regular feature of this type of prayer book with the format and entries reflecting local customs and saints, and the interests of individual patrons. In the Wharncliffe calendar several saints are highlighted: Aldric, Julianus, Tyburcius, Albinus and René – all connected with either the diocese of Le Mans or Angers. The great artistic finesse demonstrated by Maître François attracted aristocratic patrons as well as the wealthy bourgeoisie. The inclusion of saints honoured in Le Mans and Angers suggests that the Wharncliffe Hours was probably made for patrons connected with the Loire region – possibly even someone in the milieu of René II, duc de Lorraine.

Medieval calendar illustration was based on a long tradition dating back to classical antiquity. Surprisingly, for a religious devotional book, calendars did not usually feature Christian motifs but instead focussed on the changing seasons and the astrological signs associated with them. The Wharncliffe Hours conforms to this pattern referencing the cyclical passing of time.

The twelve calendar pages all have a standard format: a central panel with the days of month numerically in red, the text in brown ink in an elegant Burgundian bâtarde script, and important feasts of the calendar in blue; the surrounding colourful outer borders feature stylised foliage and two ‘overlaid’ miniatures – the upper featuring the appropriate sign of the zodiac, the lower showing the required activity or labour of the month.

The calendar entry for May has the astrological sign of ‘gemini’ and is the month of ‘hunting’. In Maître François’ depiction, we see the gemini twins derived from the classical representations of Castor and Pollux. However, the illustrator has portrayed the twins as a naked male and female modestly screening their sexuality behind a shield.  This adaptation of the classical reference gives the pair a medieval contemporary interpretation which links them with Spring, courtship and love-making.

In the second picture, we see an image of a couple riding out to the hunt. The man holds a bird of prey and the woman, a large branch. The branch refers to the ancient personification of May in which a man commonly held a branch or a flower signifying fresh growth. Once again, the artist has ‘updated’ the image from what earlier would have been that of a mounted warrior.

As Margaret Manion describes in her comprehensive documentation of ‘The Felton Illuminated Manuscripts in the National Gallery of Victoria’ (2005): ‘Maître François’ style … is distinguished by its clarity and precision and the artist’s ability to translate detailed philosophical and allegorical concepts into accessible and attractive compositions…. His figures are based on a number of types and their costumes belong to clearly recognisable categories, as though designed for the actors of a play… The miniatures of Wharncliffe Hours are also distinguished by their palette … where [unlike the Master’s earlier works] shades of white, off-white and light grey modelled in pale violet and mauve are seen to predominate, especially in the draperies of the main figures … The small miniatures on the calendar pages are framed by floral borders with fine ivy-leaf tendril sprays along their narrow inner panels … and [more luxuriant] floral-acanthus leaf borders [surrounding elsewhere]’.

The Wharncliffe Hours is an exquisite example of the art of manuscript illumination in the 15^th century and the NGV is fortunate to have such a beautiful jewel-like object in the collection. It is not currently on display. However, apart from its age, its excellent condition, and the obvious elegance of its execution, I wondered how many viewers would spend time looking at it if it were available to be seen. Would we allot more than the 15 seconds we now commonly allocate to a work of art and its wall label on our visits to galleries? Would we regard it as a curiosity? Or would we find some relevance that would help us connect with this old French religious object?

For a long time I have been interested in how ‘new life’ can be breathed into museum objects like the Wharncliffe Hours. We will never be able to fully appreciate how a Book of Hours was enjoyed and utilised in the 15^th century but we could consider what a 21^st century equivalent might be.

Surprisingly, tens of thousands of these books have survived from the Middle Ages which indicates what an important role they played in the cultural life of the period. They were small, portable, structured and available to all social classes. In ‘Marking the Hours: English People and Their Prayers, 1240-1570’ (2006) Eamon Duffy describes how these ‘manuals’ were a part of everyday life. He points out that as well as providing a daily religious structure and ‘effective prayers for specific situations’ – Duffy likens the medieval collecting of a ‘good prayer’ as similar to us collecting a favourite recipe –these books were also used for secular jottings including births, deaths, debts, contracts and other solemn oaths. In demonstrating their widespread use, he cites the case of a pauper woman accused of stealing a Book of Hours from a domestic servant in 1500.

Given the ubiquity and ‘multifunctionality’ of the Book of Hours, I have decided that the closest contemporary equivalent in our world is the ‘smartphone’. Accordingly, I wondered ‘what if?’ I look at the May entry of the Wharncliffe calendar through this lens.

Smartphones feature calendar entries and reminder prompts much like the Wharncliffe book. Less likely to be religious (although Orthodox Easter, Eid ul Fitr and Shavout all occurred this year in May), they nevertheless indicate public holidays and other community events of interest. The month of May’s calendar could include ‘May Day’, ‘Mother’s Day’, ‘National Sorry Day’ and ‘Reconciliation Day’.  Other entries in ‘blue’ would be person-specific like family occasions. In the context of the pandemic it is worth noting that International Nurses Day, World AIDS Vaccine Day and International Day for Biodiversity are all May entrants.

Smartphones have a myriad of visual representation functions and apps which remind us of events and the passing of time. Accordingly, I believe Maître François’ vignettes could have their symbolism updated. His picture of the gemini twins (in their naked vulnerability) reminded me that, as a population in lockdown, we are limited in who we can include to support us – for some, just one significant other – could this be an instagram #choosecarefully moment? Is the partial shielding of their bodies also an acknowledgement that some protection is offered by one vaccination shot, but that a second is required for ‘complete cover’?  #firstcovidjabisnotenough

The ‘original’ model for gemini  – Castor and Pollux (known as the Dioscuri) – figure prominently in classical mythology and could be restored to their original meanings. In ancient times, they were regarded as helpers of humankind and the patrons of travellers, characteristically intervening at times of crisis and offering aid to those who trusted them #safewiththetwinsinquarantine. They were also excellent hunters who participated in the hunting of the Calydonian Boar – a ferocious monster which wreaked havoc across the countryside – requiring the coordinated efforts of a team of people to vanquish it #weneedtoworktogether (The Dioscuri’s functions were later appropriated by Christianity and some commentators recognise their ‘replacements’ as Saints Peter and Paul taking care of travellers, and Saints Cosmas and Damian in their role as healers).

Maître François’ second illustration, of the couple ‘on the hunt’, suggests more pandemic themes. The tracking down and minimising of infection requires the coordinated effort of contact tracers, health professionals, epidemiologists, and educators. Time, speed and commitment are essential to cover both the geographical and public awareness territory. In this sense it is heartening to see the pair continuing their efforts late into the night with the aid of their support team #thevirusdoesntsleep. The ‘attributes’ carried by the couple on horseback are also significant. The bird of prey – a dangerous entity when flying about – could be connected with the awareness of aerosol transmission #wearamask. And the bough carried by the woman is the right length to explain the importance of social distancing #thisfarapart.

While I suspect some readers will be aghast at the irreverent and frivolous manner in which I have presented a great work of art, I would argue that anything that helps us reflect on and understand other lives and cultures is an important step towards recognition and respect – and that this is more easily done by providing a familiar portal.

As we await further news of case numbers and the length of the lockdown, I cautiously looked at the Wharncliffe calendar entry for June. Here we find the ‘cancer crab’ – an ominous reminder that our isolation provides the best form of protection – and a rather shabby labourer. Is he a plea for more financial assistance for the workers who are suffering badly? Or is he a reminder that we reap what we sow?

Stay safe!