Gestas, the Bad Thief, from a Calvary

Entry

The legend of Dysmas and Gestas, respectively the good and the bad thief who flanked Christ on the cross on Mount Golgotha, was passed down via the apocryphal Acts of Pilate (part of the Gospel of Nicodemus).⁵ The good thief, Dysmas (see BK-2014-20-1), hangs from a cross made from two tree trunks; binding him to the cross are cords carved from the same piece of wood. His body is depicted in an expressive, contorted pose, with his arms and legs positioned diagonally. He is dressed in a loincloth and a jerkin that opens in front, held together by several short lengths of cord, with his bare upper chest exposed. As part of the original Crucifixion group to which he almost certainly belonged, Dysmas’s bearded face gazed sorrowfully over his left shoulder in the direction of the crucified figure of Christ. His face appears drawn and bleak, with sharp eyes and open mouth. The woodcarver has excelled in the rendering of numerous minute details, such as the freely hanging ropes and cords, elements of the clothing (buttons, buttonholes), teeth, toes, muscles and veins on the thighs and feet, but also the full head of curly hair, and lastly, the tree bark of the wooden cross. Standing above the thief is an angel wearing a long robe who, in recognition of the thief’s penitence, has come to save his soul.

The bad thief, Gestas (shown here), hangs from his respective cross in a far more tormented pose than his counterpart Dysmas. His pained, beardless face twists unnaturally upwards, entirely oblivious of Christ on the cross. Emerging from his mouth was the soul of this impenitent thief, torn from his body via his widely gaping mouth by the (now missing) figure of a demon. His arms wrench backwards at an agle over the cross, bound by winding lengths of the rope. Gestas’s clothing is more ornate than the other thief, with cords closing his long-sleeved jerkin in front, worn over a chemise. His full-length stockings – hose – are torn at the right knee, with his two feet emerging at the bottom. Over his hose, the man wears a braguette or codpiece tied to the jacket via short cords. Here too the woodcarver has taken every effort to incorporate various motifs with accuracy and precision, but without becoming lost in an overabundance of detail: the freely hanging ropes and cords, elements of the clothing (buttons, buttonholes, ropes), wrinkles in the face, and lushly descending curls of hair. Even the taught skin around the thief’s left heel has been depicted by the sculptor with naturalness.

When viewed collectively, the angular style of the drapery folds, the relatively uncommon iconography of clothed thieves with expressive, tormented poses – as well as the use of boxwood – all strongly point to a sculptor’s atelier in the Low Countries, or perhaps even more probable, the bordering region of the lower Rhine. Such an origin is additionally confirmed by a variety of motifs and stylistic elements belonging to the repertoire of the early-sixteenth-century woodcarvers active in this part of Europe.

Examples of figures comparable to the present Thieves crucified on the cross are found on a number of large Passion retables from Antwerp and Brussels. These also share the fine detailing of the clothing with carved dangling ropes and cords binding the figures’ limbs to the cross. Nevertheless, these observable similarities are insufficiently convincing for a definitive attribution in the Southern Netherlands.⁶ Also comparable is a somewhat later stone Crucifixion with clothed thieves originating from the workshop of Johann Brabender in Münster (c. 1530-40).⁷

A clear parallel also exists with painting from the Rhineland, and to a lesser degree, Northern Netherlandish painting of the early sixteenth century.⁸ Evident similarities can be discerned when comparing the present boxwood Thieves and a Calvary of circa 1505 by an anonymous Cologne painter known as the Master of the Aachen Altarpiece, originally painted for the church of Sankt Kolumba in Cologne (London, The National Gallery).⁹ Here we find motifs like the angel with the soul of Dysmas, and the devil violently pulling the soul from the tormented Gestas’s mouth. The painting also shows large loops of rope encircling the thieves’ arms, depicted in a manner highly reminiscent of those found on the two Amsterdam sculptures.

The most convincing stylistic agreement, however, is encountered in late-fifteenth-century sculpture from the lower Rhine region. Key works for comparison are the St Anne Altarpiece and an almost life-size Christ in Distress (fig. a) in the Sankt-Nicolaikirche in Kalkar, and a St Sebastian in the Sankt Aldegundiskirche in Emmerich (fig. b).¹⁰ These monumental sculptures display the same kind of fascination for expressive corporeal forms and physical details the present figures: an angular, sometimes almost awkward positioning of the limbs and especially the hands and fingers, and the delineation of bones, ligaments, muscles, veins and wrinkles beneath the tautly stretched skin. Also characteristic is the convincing depiction of anatomy and physical proportions, even when conveyed in extreme postures. The way in which Sebastian’s sharply angled left arm connects to the shoulder – with an abrupt but fluid kink – is markedly similar to the corresponding arm on the boxwood Dysmas, but also that of the Christ in Distress at Kalkar. Other noteworthy similarities between the statue of Sebastian and the boxwood carvings include the stylized treatment of the saint’s curls, liken to those of Dysmas, and the tree to which he is bound, articulated with fine indentations made with a gouge just as on the thieves’ wooden crosses. Lastly, the smooth round cords that bind the thieves to their respective crosses are virtually identical to the Sebastian’s calligraphic loops.

The monumental St Sebastian, dated circa 1490, is attributed to the anonymous Master of the Emmerich Saints. Recently, Karrenbrock tentatively identified this master as Raeb(e) Lambert Lutenzoon, a woodcarver active in the German city of Emmerich from 1478 on (though with origins elsewhere), up to the time of his death in or shortly before 1507.¹¹ The same author also suggested this anonymous sculptor (‘Raebe Lambert’) might be identical to the so-called Master of the Kalkar St Anne Altarpiece (active c. 1475-1510), the maker of both of the above-cited works in Kalkar. Regardless of his true identity, in artistic terms this anonymous sculptor was unquestionably the most innovative woodcarver in the region. Besides the altarpiece from which he derives his name and the Christ in Distress, a Triumphal Cross group originating from the Dominican monastery church in Kalkar has been added to the master’s oeuvre.¹² Yet one must question whether the stylistic homogeneity of these works is sufficient enough to warrant an attribution to one sculptor (‘Raebe Lambert’), as Karrenbrock proposed. The Emmerich St Sebastian, though unquestionably produced in the immediate vicinity of the Master of the Kalkar St Anne Altarpiece, deviates distinctly from the other works in both facial type and expressiveness. Nevertheless, all of these works – including the present boxwood Thieves share obvious commonalities in terms of the high artistic quality, the realistic, expressive and almost tormented depiction of the human form and anatomy, the attention to a wide variety of physical details,¹³ the strong plasticity with areas of deep undercutting and freely hanging elements, the daring, broadly conceived style of the drapery folds (excepting the Sebastian), specific similarities in the poses,¹⁴ the characteristically carved curls and locks of hair, and lastly, the execution of the wooden crosses.¹⁵ Based on all of the above-cited observations, the Amsterdam Thieves can be situated in the artistic milieu of the Duchy of Cleves with reasonable cause, with an attribution to the Master of the Kalkar St Anne Altarpiece justified in every respect.

Other parallels with lower Rhenish sculpture from around 1500 or the early sixteenth century likewise support this attribution. Relevant works for comparison include those by Henrik Douwerman (c. 1480/90-1543) and his immediate forerunners, Master Arnt and Jan van Halderen. The anonymous sculptor of the present Thieves shares Douwerman’s fascination with non-polychromed (holzsichtige) representations displaying a wealth of exquisitely carved details and facial expressions, a strong, highly evolved sense of plasticity and a discernible angularity in both the figures’ poses and the drapery folds. Lower Rhenish stylistic traits of this kind appear on a superior level in Douwerman’s two seminal works: the Seven Sorrows of the Virgin Altarpiece in Kalkar¹⁶ and the predella of the Marian retable with the Tree of Jesse in the Sankt Viktor-Dom in Xanten.¹⁷. Here one also finds a similar treatment of the drapery folds, and an agreement in the carving of Dysmas’s curls,¹⁸ and the smiling, almost naive facial expression of the angel above him. The same angel type also occurs with a St Roch, also deemed to be lower Rhenish, in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York.¹⁹

The origin of small wooden statuettes from the late Middle Ages has long been primarily associated with (Southern) Germany.²⁰
In recent years, however, a growing awareness of the production of exquisite Kleinplastik in the Low Countries and bordering regions in the period around 1500 has emerged.²¹ First and foremost are the extremely small prayer nuts and other related micro-sculptures for private devotion. Such works were in all probability made in a single workshop located in the Northern Netherlands (Delft?), today linked to the name of Adam Theodrici (Adam Dircksz) (cf. BK-1981-1 and BK-2010-16).²² One miniature retable from this ‘Adam Dircksz-group’ features a scene of the Crucifixion that also includes two thieves comparable to the present boxwood sculptures. Even at this minute scale, one still observes the freely hanging cords that binds these figures to their respective crosses.²³ Woodcarvers in the regions of the lower Rhine and bordering Meuse area also produced such boxwood sculptures at the micro and miniature scale. One boxwood group St George and the Dragon can be localized to the lower Rhine region on stylistic grounds, while the same also applies, albeit to a lesser degree, for several other small works executed in this wood type.²⁴ In recent decades, other small- and medium-size boxwood sculptures have been attributed with varying degrees of verifiability to the circle of the Master of Elsloo and the sculptor Jan van Steffeswert, both active in the Meuse area. ²⁵

Due to the technical virtuosity of the carving and the phenomenal level of artistic freedom, the statuettes of Dysmas and Gestas can be described as core works within this scarcely examined group of micro-carvings from the Low Countries and bordering regions. The astounding quality of the carving on the figures leaves absolutely no doubt that their maker was a leading artist working for the most opulent of patrons. The Thieves once formed part of a small-scale, but very costly and elaborately detailed Passion altarpiece, commissioned by someone in the highest circles. The making of this altarpiece is certain to have been a highly exceptional enterprise, in part because as yet no other known work exists by this sculptor on such a small scale with which it might be compared. Moreover, when considering the impressive display of woodcarving mastery, but also their execution in the round, one cannot exclude the possibility that such an ensemble could very well have been produced for a Kunstkammer rather than as a work merely intended for private devotion. If indeed the attribution to a woodcarver from the Emmerich-Kalkar-Cleves region proves correct, the most obvious patron for such an object would be the court of Duke John I of Cleves (1419-1481), or even more likely, the court of his eldest son, John II (1458-1521), and their familial relations.²⁶ The internationally oriented, art-loving court at Cleves maintained close ties with the Burgundian court of Philip the Good in Brussels via Duke John I’s mother – Mary of Burgundy (1393-1463) – and his marriage to Elizabeth of Burgundy (of the Estampes-Nevers branch). The comital court at Cleves would most certainly have provided a befitting context for a precious miniature Passion altarpiece of this kind. Also noteworthy is the fact that the Emmerich woodcarver Raebe Lambert was married to a woman from the Van der Graef family: Johan van der Graef, an affluent burgher from Kalkar, served as chamberlain of Duke Philip of Cleves (1467-1505), a brother of Duke John II and bishop of Nevers, Amiens and Autun. Van der Graef also accompanied Philip during his sojourn in Rome in 1499.²⁷

Frits Scholten, 2023