Another in a series of observations of early medieval paintings in the National Gallery London, an endless source of inspiration and amusement. Intended to show how I find stories in a painting, not my opinion of the subject matter nor its creator. Nothing replaces seeing the real thing!
(Readers of this blog may know I have a bit of a thing for Memling.)
The ‘dead’ dragon curled like a whippet at the feet of St George is about to take a nip out of the back of the Donor’s knee. George has had to whip the Donor’s hat off at the last minute. You can imagine the conversation in the studio
But Herr Memling, it is my best hat it cost me a month’s income.
Indeed Sir, but would you truly wear it when you bend your knee to the King of Heaven?
Compromise, in the hands of the artist, and in this case, St George.
The child beats time to the angel’s lute, and crumples a leaf of his mother’s book; the old man leaves the garden.
She wears the same dress, sits in the same seat, is backed by the same material, holds the same child – but each virgin is her own self captured in that moment in time, not slavishly copied from the last.
The finished edge of the cloth that makes the cover of the cushion the child sits upon – a Flemish weaver’s eye for cloth, from a German.
St John looks as though he expects the lamb to do tricks and it has disappointed him.
Come on Larry, he says, count to five for the baby!
The child waves delightedly at Mr Donne. One angel smirks as it plays the organ, the other offers the child an apple. St Catherine looks severe, impatient with Mr Donne who seems unaware the child is there.
Look, she says, these tickets cost me a martyrdom, you could at least engage.
Barbara hikes her tower up to perform a momentary illusion in the surrounding landscape and places a solicitous hand on Mrs Donne’s shoulder.
Never mind, she says, he’s a fool, but I’ll look out for you and the girl.
The evangelist isn’t sure his magic trick with the snake in the cup is going to come off. In the distance a waterwheel turns, and a cow grazes.
© Cherry Potts 2013