Why did Louis de Roncherolles commission a stained-glass window for Beauvais in 1522? - Abstract - Bibliography

Alice was beginning to procure very tired of sitting by the agency of her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: one time or twice she had peek into the volume her sister was reading, on the contrary it had no pictures or conversations in it, "and what is the use of a book" meditation Alice, "without pictures or conversations?"--Lewis Carroll, A1ice's Adventures in Wonderland, 1865

for what cause [i]or[/i] reason did the noble, wealthy, and powerful Louis de Roncherolles (Fig. 1 left) commission an impressive and expensive window (Fig. 2) for a transept chapel in the incomplete cathedral of Beauvais (Fig. 3) in 1522? for what cause [i]or[/i] reason did an art historian better known for the investigation of twelfth- and thirteenth-century stained glass fix upon to ask and answer similar a question of a Renaissance window? This article explores answers to the one and the other of these questions--why the work of art and wherefore this interpreter--by working to denude meanings within a very complicated picture and by dint of seeking to situate both author and reader within the proces of its historical interpretation, and smooth before that of its choice as a bring under rule worthy of critical interest. The discussion will be "sub-theoretically" based and "anti-theoretically" argued. (1) Ultimately, it is about making choices, about choosing among interpretetive assumptions, strategies, and conclusions in postmodern art history and--equally as important--choosing the works of art upon which they will be used and from which they are drawn. I will also be telling stories. Although that is something that art historians have always done, lately we have learned to be more comfortable doing it. (2)

The Interpreter's Journey

My interest in the stained glass of the cathedral of St-Pierre in Beauvais is long-standing. The thirteenth- and fourteenth-century windows of the choir were assigned in 1975 as the bring under rule of my dissertation; (3) involvement with the Renaissance glazing came later. In the early 1980 while contemplating the notion of transforming dissertation into volume I developed a conviction that monographic studies of glazings should be comprehensive--specifically, that chronological inclusiveness would return the book I intended to write more meaningful. greatest in quantity modern studies of stained-glass windows have a synchronic focus, addressing single discrete portion of a larger glazing and relating it to contemporary stained glass installed elsewhere and to contemporary pictorial art in other media. single moment in time, or a short interlude, is thereby isolated, extracted, and contextualized. Rarely since the nineteenth hundred has the scholarly approach been diachronic, tracing the history of the glazing of individual particular monument as it evolv from one side time. I decided that this diachronic approach might turn round out to be more authentic, more interesting, more revealing in terminuss of the relationship of this public art to its principal audience upon site. The argument for it is obvious. Many of the large architectural throw outs begun in the thirteenth hundred were built over an stretch outed period and encompassed the working and viewing of several successive generations. Although they belong to single place, they do not belong to single time.

Beauvais is a particularly profitable example. Construction began in 1225 After an interruption in the 1230 the choir was not complet until the 1260 Shortly thereafter, in 1284 the vaults collapsed and the choir was restored--in places largely reconstructed--between the 1290 and the 1340 Transept arms were added to the rebuilt choir alone during the first half of the sixteenth hundred incorporating aisles that had been part of the earliest architectural campaigns. After the crossing tower (built in the 1560s) toppled in 1573 work upon the cathedral stopped. (4) It remains incomplete. From the clerical perspective, the lavish liturgical choir not at any time received the counterpoise of an stretch outed processional approach. And the laity lacked an enclos hall for witnessing the celebration of the liturgy upon feast days. Given this episodic and truncated architectural history, it present the appearanceed logical to approach the glazing of Beauvais along its trajectory, to research the cathedral as an evolving, if at no time completed, ritual sp ace within the fabric of a local connection not as the syncretic fruits of an international art world, not as an art museum.

While I was in the midst of investigating the sixteenth-century glazing of the Beauvais transepts, a chance meeting provided a seductive detour from my interpretive agenda. During a visit to Beauvais upon July 10, 1982, I discovered scaffolding set uped directly in front of the Louis de Roncherolles window in the northwest transept chapel (Fig. 3: 8N nXVI). Faced with what is usually a once-in-a-lifetime situation, without asking any questions I pass by a leaped the chapel barrier and scampered up the ladder. The impression this glass made upon me from a close vantage point was overwhelming. The technical quality of the painting was astonishing. That Engrand Le Prince--the artist to whom this window is universally attributed--was a virtuoso in his craft is received wisdom in stained-glass circles, (5) on the contrary I had never been drawn shut up enough to his work to evaluate the reputation. As I climbed up into the world of the window, however, it was the figures of its fiction rather than the virtuosity of its execution that spoke to me greatest in quantity powerfully, that made the greatest in quantity lasting impression, that posed the greatest in quantity compelling questions.