Author: Ava Chapman

When I began to work for the BASIRA Project (Books As Symbols In Renaissance Art), I was drawn in by the meticulous record making. The ability to categorize each small piece of information about a book in order to assist researchers was captivating. I grew up in a letterpress printing and book binding studio, which has had a strong impact on my time at Wellesley. I enjoy studying early printed books and manuscripts to get a better glimpse at the artists’ work contained within. We take so much of the labor required to make these books for granted, and so I find it gratifying to pay respect to the intensive skill that was poured into these books. BASIRA was so intriguing to me because of the added layer of the artist creating a representation of a book – an artistic representation of craftsmanship. After joining BASIRA my first task, after completing the necessary training, was to enter relevant objects within the Davis Museum at Wellesley College. I was able to visit the museum and talk with curator Dr. Nicole Berlin about relevant works. I ended up with a list of 15 objects, and spent the following two months making entries for them in the database. 

While I have a fondness for many of the works which I entered, one of my favorites is A Double Portrait, by Abraham de Vries (Document #4357). In my first year at Wellesley College, my introductory art history class examined de Vries’ painting as an example of how Dutch and Netherlandish artists incorporated subtle cues to the wealth of their subjects in their paintings. We focused on their clothing, jewelry, chairs, the background, and the rug draped over the table as cues to the subject’s identity as wealthy Mennonites. We did not, however, discuss the book in any depth. So, when I had the opportunity to revisit the work for a BASIRA entry, I was excited to look more closely at the physical aspects of the book and to parse how it contributes to the overall painting. 

The book is a small devotional, likely a bible, in quarto format. It is not an overly extravagant book; the pages are not illuminated, it is small in size, and the chain which the man holds is simple. However, the expense paid is evident in the corner pieces and gauffered edges of the text block. Corner pieces are small pieces of metal affixed to the corners of a book’s cover, providing extra security and durability. While corner pieces ostensibly offer a practical benefit, the book’s gauffered edges are entirely decorative. This process was labor intensive and expensive. After sewing the pages together into a textblock the edges were sanded and polished before a layer of adhesive (such as egg white) was applied. Then gold leaf was buffed onto the edges. Finally, heated tools were pressed into the surface, indenting a pattern. The final result is a book which catches the light in a captivating manner, hinting at the value it provides for its owners. 

The other major point of inquiry is the chain or rope extending from the head of the book. The man holds it in his right hand as it drapes over the table. If one filters for all of the documents in BASIRA that have a chain or rope (listed under “furniture”) attached to them, this book in A Double Portrait is the only result. The rarity of books with chains indicates that the artist was very specific and intentional about the book which he depicted. He could have very well based this book off of other representations which he had seen, but this appears to be a painting of a real, physical book, chosen for its unique features. The book, like many others in the database, is used to characterize the relationship between two people. Many others, however, depict scholastic or religious relationships between peers or dramatic power differentials. A Double Portrait depicts a more nuanced relationship, however, one between husband and wife. The husband’s grasp on the chain of the book indicates that, although his wife is literate, he still has power over her religious or intellectual activities.

Lastly, there is no evidence that de Vries made an effort to depict text in the book. In BASIRA we note both legibility (whether or not the viewer can read it), the level of simulation (how much of the page contents represent language), and the type of simulation, if present. The fact that de Vries did not attempt to represent language indicates that the material qualities of the book are more important than the identity of the text within it. The subtle display of wealth in the gauffered edges, the book’s otherwise simple binding, the chain attached to the cover, and its resonances with the other objects in the painting are more important than what piece of scripture the woman is reading. 

Creating entries in BASIRA allows for close examination of each document and its internal, external, symbolic, and relational qualities. We work as a team to research, review, and publish entries in the database, meaning that every question I have can be discussed. In addition to close-looking, I learn much more about each artwork through conversation with other volunteers and students working on the database. They notice things, such as subtle religious symbols, that simply pass me by. Each entry is a journey, in which I learn new facts about books, painting, religion, and best cataloging practices. By creating entries I learn more about the ways in which bibliographical details can contribute to an artist’s larger goals in a work. Each small detail that I identify during cataloging shifts my understanding. The complex system of classification is gratifying to navigate and provides researchers the ability to examine fine details about the representation of books in the Renaissance period.

View the original blog post here for Transforming Stories, Spaces, Lives: A Mellon Foundation Humanities for All Times Grant at Wellesley College