Byzantine Art. Charles Bayet

used them in small numbers, juxtaposing contrasting colours, neglecting intermediate shades. Since the mosaic is made to be seen from afar, the harshness of these contrasts is lost within the overall harmony of the work; but on the other hand, everything stands out with an incomparable vigor and brilliance. The figures leap out of a background of blue or intense gold; the vibrant and clear colours of the clothing form a powerful contrast with this uniform shade of the background. Often, a black line traces the outline of the body and facial features to better enhance the picture. Everything in the process contributes therefore to giving the work the look of a well composed piece that captures the attention through striving to create the illusion of poignant definition.

      Some mosaics from this time can still be found in the East. In a church in Thessaloniki, which bore the same name and today has been transformed into a mosque, the Ascension of Christ is portrayed on the vault of the cupola, while on the apse, the Virgin, seated on a gem-encrusted throne, bears the Baby Jesus in her arms. One of the famous monasteries of Mt. Sinai preserves some mosaics that have been attributed to the same era, which reenact various episodes from the life of Moses and the Transfiguration of Christ.

      Moreover, in Constantinople itself, this genre of decoration was used in more than just the churches: Procopius describes one mosaic found at the Great Palace. “The artists,” he says, “have depicted the wars and battles of the realm, the cities taken in Italy and Africa. Justinian is victorious, thanks to Belisarius, who, returning with his army brought him the loot of kings, kingdoms, and treasures. In the middle, Justinian and Theodora, filled with exultation, celebrate this triumph, while the kings of the Goths and the Vandals beg for clemency. Around them, the senators display their joy.”

      St. Apollinare, sixth century.

      Mosaic, Basilica of Sant’Apollinare in Classe, Ravenna, Italy.

      Christ Pantocrator, sixth century.

      Icon. Monastery of St. Catherine, Mount Sinai, Egypt.

      St. Peter, sixth century.

      Icon. Monastery of St. Catherine, Mount Sinai, Egypt.

      Codex Purpureus Rossanensis (Rossano Gospels), the Judgement of Pilate, sixth century.

      Painting on parchment, 30 × 25 cm.

      Cathedral Treasury, Rossano, Italy.

      Genesis, Rebecca and Eliezer, sixth century.

      Painting on parchment, 31 × 25 cm.

      Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Vienna.

      Once again, it is to Ravenna that one must go to find the most beautiful Byzantine mosaics of the era. Of this genre, nothing is equal to the decoration of the apse of San Vitale. Immediately upon entering, the gaze is drawn to two large compositions of historical interest. On one side, Justinian surrounded by dignitaries and guards, and on the other side, Theodora attended by her retinue, offer gifts to the church: the empress crosses the atrium, where the holy fountain is located, while a servant raises before her the veils hung at the door of the temple. Her costume is splendid: large embroidery, depicting the Adoration of the Magi, adorns the hem of her cloak; jewels cover her chest; from her hair, coils of pearls and gems hang to her shoulders; a tall diadem crowns her haloed head. This is a vibrant evocation of the past: these symmetrically arranged figures, who are presented full-face, these women with their regular features, their large, fixed eyes, their uniformed posture, the splendour of their costumes, all this offers, finally, a glimpse of the court of Byzantium, which is impossible to forget, so rich and so elegant, and where a meticulous etiquette ruled.

      It would be impossible to describe all the mosaics of San Vitale and the other buildings of Ravenna. However, one of the most remarkable is the long procession of female saints that unfolds atop the arcades of one nave in Sant’Apollinare Nuovo; they bear crowns to the Virgin; their attire is rich, their heads are adorned with mitres, but the regularity of their features, a slight and gracious incline of the head, gives them a particular charm. One involuntarily muses on classical Antiquity and certain works of incomparable perfection, where this idea of order and harmony dominates. Since this beautiful epoque of Greek art, many qualities have been lost; yet in these mosaics, one regains a sense of the relationship between the past and the present.

      It is thus no less interesting to study the illuminated manuscripts from this era, which have preserved for us a smaller image of the big picture. One of the oldest, the manuscript of Genesis, kept in the National Library at Vienna, offers well-conceived compositions in which the artist discovered how to introduce life and grace into the illuminations and illustrations. The women in them are draped with an arrangement of elegantly simple folds, reminiscent of Antiquity.

      A manuscript of the Gospel, found at Rossano in the south of Italy and dated to around the sixth century, contains an entire series of paintings whose subjects are borrowed from the New Testament.

      A manuscript of the works of the doctor Dioscurides, also kept in Vienna, bears its date: it was written for a princess of the imperial family, Juliana Anicia, who lived in Constantinople at the end of the fifth century and the beginning of the sixth. It is not about religious events, and the painter seems to have been especially inspired by secular works. On the first sheet, Anicia is portrayed seated between two personifications, Magnanimity and Wisdom, while a prostrate woman kisses her feet and a winged genie presents her with an open book. Their posture is simple and natural, and the well drawn figures pleasantly stand out from a dark blue background. The framing is particularly exquisite – small Cupids engage in the artistic work, some painting, others sculpting or building. It is correct to say that these figures recall certain paintings from Pompey and Herculaneum; the resemblance is, in fact, surprising, and the technique is as free and as gracious.

      The Laurentian Library in Florence possesses a Syriac manuscript, produced in 586 in a Mesopotamian convent, by a monk named Rabbula. Nearly every page is framed with a large architectural drawing, tall porticos, supported by fragile and elegant colonnettes.

      On the façade or surrounding these delicate constructions, groups of birds, animals, and trees, treated in a graceful and researched style, then little scenes whose subjects are borrowed from the sacred texts. Toward the end of the volume are some compositions of greater proportions: one is famous because it displays one of the first examples of the Crucifixion.

      Basilica of San Vitale, north wall, 527–548.

      Mosaic. Ravenna, Italy.

      St. Demetrios, seventh century.

      Mosaic Thessaloniki, Greece.

      Dioscorides, Princess Anicia Juliana, De Materia Medica, 512.

      Painting on parchment, 36.5 × 26.6 cm.

      Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Vienna.

      Rabbula Gospels, the Crucifixion and the Resurrection, 586.

      Manuscript, 33 × 25.5 cm.

      Biblioteca Mediceo Laurenziana, Florence.

      Rabbula Gospels, the Ascension, 586.

      Manuscript, 33 × 25.2 cm.

      Biblioteca Mediceo Laurenziana, Florence.

      Codex Purpureus Rossanensis (Rossano Gospels), The Entry into Jerusalem, sixth century.

      Manuscript, 31 × 26 cm.

      Cathedral Treasury, Rossano, Italy.

      The subjects treated in manuscripts are numerous: many belong to the Old Testament, some to the history of Christianity, such as the Lapidation