This study analyzes Minoan depictions of bull-leaping, specifically as a way of challenging preconceived notions of the gender identity of participants. Most of the scholarship on bull-leaping over-relies on analyzing the difference in skin color of bull-leaping participants in order to determine their gender. As different genders had to be distinctly recognizable in every art medium used in Minoan art it is unreasonable to rely only on color differences as ways of representing different genders. The Toreador fresco at Knossos is the focus of the research and is compared to other depictions of gender that do not include polychromy, such as stoneware vessels and seals. In terms of methodology, this study utilizes concepts of gender performativity to identify Minoan stylistic patterns such as clothing, adornment, and physical body differences that worked together to form gender identity. These stylistic patterns combined with an analysis of Minoan rituals can reveal the likelihood of bull-leaping being used to assign the male gender and promote group solidarity between the male elite. Investigations on how bull-leaping looked like in real life reveal common themes of participants being given different roles and relying on each other to succeed. After investigating the different ways gender was portrayed and assigned, it becomes clear that the dark-skinned figures on the Toreador fresco were likely older men assisting the young (light-skinned) males to earn their full masculine identity.

The Iliad and the Odyssey of Homer are often considered to be some of if not the foundational texts of Western literature, and since the discovery of the city of Troy by Heinrich Schliemann in 1873, there has been a hunt for evidence of whether there might have been an historical event which inspired the epic poems. This, in turn, spawned a myriad of further questions, one of them being when these events might have occurred in history. Two schools of thought have dominated this subject. The first and more popular of these argues that given the references to Bronze Age artifacts, the poems, and whatever event may have inspired them, must have occurred during this era, while the second of these contends that the far greater proliferation of Iron Age artifacts and social structures within the poems indicate that it must have been inspired by events within the Iron Age. While I do not intend to rock the boat, I believe an unlikely candidate may hold another piece of the puzzle, the Philistines of the Bible. By establishing our understanding of the ethnic identity of the Philistines through both an analysis of the literary records such as those compiled in the Bible and the Medinet Habu inscriptions as well as the archaeological record in the Levant and the Aegean, I will argue that we can see the presence of the Philistines within Homer’s epics. I believe that given our knowledge of the Philistines’ migration to the Levant during the Bronze Age Collapse, likely from the Aegean, their inclusion within the epics of Homer solidly places the events which inspired those poems within the Bronze Age.

For centuries, magical practice has been a defining source of fascination, inspiring a multitude of narratives. However, magic is far from fictitious, and curse culture specifically held prominent influence within various societies, most notably in ancient Greece. The use of curse tablets, erotic gems, and magical effigies comprise only a minute percentage of the numerous instances where malicious, otherworldly intent has shaped Greek antiquity. Despite this, research centered on curse practice is limited, with scholars only recently attempting to unveil the vital impact of the magical domain. The logical, democratic interpretation of the Greeks held by traditional academia, along with the demonization of magic itself, has skewed the modern understanding of ancient occultism. Scholarly analysis on the transformative power of malicious epigraphy, in particular, has been severely neglected.

Similarly, the exploration of Greek artifacts through haptic, sensorial perspectives has recently become a promising field of research. Studies in experimental archaeology which analyze sensory experiences not only offer critical understanding of ancient practices but also allow for discourse surrounding object personhood and agency. This methodology offers revolutionary progress in the study of cursed epigraphy because of the intimate relationship between individual and object, where the artifact effectively becomes an extension of the writer. Though scholars have focused on ancient writing and the senses separately, my research aims to contextualize the foundational and mystical nature of cursed inscription on Greek ceramics through a sensorial lens. Additionally, this paper will examine the commanding, altered entities of these objects as artifacts that held heightened agency. Finally, I present my original experiments reenacting cursed epigraphy designed to offer insight into the haptic experiences of ancient curse practitioners. My approach not only reveals the intense physical toll of inscription, but also the enhanced emotional power attached to curse ritual.

Women’s homoerotic intimacy is relegated to the footnotes in much of the scholarship on ancient sexuality. There are limitations to the evidence of homosexuality among women because their lives existed outside the sphere of men, therefore going unmentioned in the historical record. Sappho provides us with fragments detailing love for women and gives scholars concrete evidence of same-sex desire between women in the Archaic period of ancient Greece. Although Sappho’s poems are crucial to developing the picture of same-sex love among women, much scholarship begins and ends with the analysis of the Lesbian poet. Textual sources can provide a great understanding of the lives of ancient peoples, but the surviving material culture can add more nuance to our understanding of how society as a whole viewed homoeroticism among women. When looking at the visual record in a contemporary setting it is crucial to take into account the creators, cultural context, and use of these objects in analyzing their potential meanings. In analyzing three images I focus on elements of gaze between women and their potential meanings in the context of other elements and gestures occurring in the scene. I will also study these images in comparison to poetic sources such as Sappho and Anacreon which emphasize the element of looking in descriptions of love between women. Working with ideas presented by contemporary scholars Sandra Boehringer and Nancy Sorkin Rabinowitz, I will provide a detailed analysis of the subtle elements of gaze in ancient Greek imagery. I present a possible reading of these images, showing how the scenes could have been viewed by women who had a preference for other women. Although my readings of the images are only one potential of many, it is crucial to consider these possibilities to build a picture of women’s longing in the ancient world.

This essay will discuss the transformation of artforms within western civilization, from primal to logical creative expression. This thesis will be illustrated through analysis of the “Marble Mask of Pan” of classical antiquity (Rome, 1st cent. CE). Created as a decorative object, the pagan mask loses its original function as an instrumental accessory of ecstatic ritual, encapsulating the deterioration of cathartic expression within classical society. As an object of stone, the Mask is a product of the development of plastic arts in the ancient world as the artist becomes oriented towards naturalistic expression, culminating in the perfection of the human form through stone sculpture. The Mask also coincides with the birth of Christianity, marking the beginning of collapse of the pagan gods of ancient Rome (as illustrated through Plutarch’s story of the death of Pan), and is reflective of western civilization’s shift in orientation from the more instinctual and ephemeral forms of expression (theater, the oral tradition, non-linear compositions) towards logic and preservation of knowledge (the proliferation of institutions, literacy, and visual principles within the plastic arts). As the human species evolved from right hemisphere to left hemisphere thinking, the oral mediums of poetry and theater were subsumed by the visual mediums of the written word and the plastic arts. Thus, a mask made in the image of the primal god Pan (himself half beast), produced after the decline of the pagan, right hemisphere dominant world, is unable to fulfill its original role as an instrument of catharsis (via theater and ecstatic ritual). This atrophy of cathartic outlets within art of the Common Era is perpetuated by the continued institutionalization of artistic expression, resulting in a decoupling of the modern human from the innate drive towards internal transformation through cathartic activity.

The Villa of Livia, located roughly nine miles outside of Rome, served as a place of leisure and entertainment for Empress Livia Druisilla, wife of the Emperor Augustus. This presentation is concerned with the triclinium located beneath the ground floor, the so-called Garden Room, aptly named due to the complex, nearly scientific, continuous garden fresco that once adorned the walls. Using the theoretical framework of Frederick Jones’ “garden of the mind” concept I argue that the iconography and composition of the garden scene offers deep insight into the identity of Livia and Augustus and the construction of a persuasive and powerful imperial identity. The bucolic perfection of the garden room fresco is rife with politically and epistemologically resonant iconography. Through an analysis of elements such as the laurel trees, roses, oak trees, and doves, as informed by texts such as the Georgics, Eclogues, Livy’s History of Rome, and The Twelve Caesars, I define a visual language through which an aristocratic, literate, Roman individual may have experienced the fresco. Through employing Jones’ theoretical lens and the visual language defined through literature I explore the density of divine, political, and personal iconography bound in the rich composition of the fresco. Suggesting the scene’s impossibility is at the helm of its ideological impact. The impossible harmoniousness of the scene suggests a natural, even divine, affirmation of the Julio-Claudian rule; not only do the Roman people answer to the imperial family, but so does the natural world.

The Via Romana, or “The Roman Way,” encapsulates the virtues and philosophies of ideal Roman life, and an empire as large as the Roman Empire once was did not rule without first achieving harmony among its people. Through the Via Romana, there was a strength within Roman communities as citizens strove to live virtuous lives according to a shared “moral code.” Understanding these virtues as sitting at the foundations of Roman society reveals how deeply they influenced the creation of art during the empire. Furthermore, many of these virtues were rooted in religion and a devoutness toward the gods and goddesses that blessed their great empire, which in turn influenced the iconography of the time. This pictorial communication played a significant role in the spreading of knowledge in Rome, meaning that art was used to communicate intentional and specific messages. Thus, one of the best ways to communicate the Via Romana virtues to all of Rome’s people was realized: through artistic and pictorial imagery. Due to mythology’s significant role in Roman culture, imagery of gods and goddesses was utilized to present these messages. This research focuses on the most prominent Via Romana virtues present in Roman culture by analyzing depictions of gods and goddesses in Roman art as they symbolize these ideal virtues. It provides a study into the ways imperator portraits across various eras utilize the imagery of gods and goddesses as representations of the virtues ops and genius, along with pictorial representations of the virtues dignitas and pietas through gods and goddesses depicted on Roman sculptural sarcophagi, and emperor portraits in the guise of gods as representations of the virtues auctoritas and honestas.

The Vestal Virgins were among the most famous women in ancient Rome: mysterious, seemingly above the law, and, even in their title, intrinsically defined by their sexual status. These priestesses were devoted to the care and preservation of the city’s central hearth fire, which was in the aedes Vestae in the Roman forum. Their tasks, bodies, and actions were synonymous with the res publica, the state of Rome, and its continued existence. Therefore, their sexual status was policed and protected by the Roman state. Some stories tell of especially good (or bad) Vestals, but most ancient and modern literary sources have treated them as one entity. There are a few extant Vestal portraits, but most lack names or dates. In this paper, I argue that the portraits of the Vestals, while suffused with complexities regarding representation, purpose, and audience, show that these women were able to personally tailor their hairstyles and headdresses. This indicates that they could exhibit a greater and more nuanced sense of individuality than is usually ascribed to them. According to contemporary literary sources, one of the best ways to identify a Vestal in public was her headdress, which implies that they were standardized. These portraits reveal a variety of hairstyles and headdresses that do not necessarily align with literary descriptions. Thus, analysis of the portraits reveals greater autonomy. The Vestals had rich lives outside of their sexual statuses, legal rights, and consequences of breaking their vows. Their individuality is evident in their portraits, which vary significantly and therefore show what each Vestal thought was important.

The Gundestrup Cauldron, discovered in 1891, has been an artifact of intrigue due to its multicultural imagery. Early scholarship connected the motifs of the 13 different panels to the visual cultures of the Celts and La Tène. However, more recently the imagery has been associated with other cultures including the Thracians, Scythians, and Indians. Despite the various published studies on the cauldron, there are still many questions surrounding the cauldron’s imagery and origins. This research examines the correlation of the cauldron’s motifs to Scythian and Proto-Scythian artifacts including Bronze Age wall carvings, Luristan pins, and Scythian gold. Commonalities in in the depictions of headdress, deities, animals, textiles, and weaponry present compelling evidence to support the influence of Scythian imagery on the cauldron. This analysis supports the argument that the motifs depicted in the Gundestrup Cauldron are an amalgamation of various nomadic Asian imagery interacting with existing Celtic art and cosmology. Thus, this artifact exemplifies the hybridity and interaction between the Scythians and Celts in the Classical Era.

Oaxaca, Mexico is considered to have one of the strongest surviving Indigenous presences in the entire country. Zapotec textile traditions of dyeing and weaving play a prominent role in this autonomous cultural preservation, as they have been maintained for over 3,000 years despite colonization, imperialization, and the imposition of global capitalist market economies. The textiles as objects act to preserve Zapotec beliefs, mythologies, and traditions that are reflected in both their physical form as well as in their creation processes. Oaxacan textiles are an especially insightful medium to demonstrate the ways in which art has the power to preserve culture and tradition despite violent histories of attempted erasure. This presentation will explore the pedagogy that informs these artistic practices, and how specific value systems and ideologies have contributed to their preservation. Additionally, I will discuss how these preserved artistic traditions reciprocally function to reinforce and maintain the cultural pedagogies and customs which characterize them.

Relationships that are rooted in gratitude, reciprocity, and belonging have always been central to these artistic practices. This is evident in the use of natural resources for the creation of textile dyes and fibres, and also in the communal (and historically matrilineal) context in which the pieces are created. I will reference the works of various Zapotec artists, both past and present, and explore the framework that underlies their craft which has lent itself to the preservation of these art forms. Specifically, I will focus on the collective strength and resilience that is generated through communal art practices that are grounded in a particular and consistent pedagogical foundation.

Despite their historical exclusion and underrepresentation within mainstream Western artistic institutions, Indigenous textile traditions from Oaxaca persistently act as a connecting thread across generational, spatial, and species-centered boundaries. What can we learn as current art history students– future curators, writers, educators, and researchers– from the resilience and continued presence of these artistic practices?

In Latin American countries such as Guatemala, El Salvador, and Mexico, currently there is an underappreciation and risk of erasure regarding Indigenous arts such as textiles and their methods of creation. For Indigenous women, weaving is not only a possible main source of income for them and their families, but it is also tied into their identity as Indigenous people and their womanhood, currently and throughout history. This presentation examines second-account stories from Indigenous women, their struggles, costs of operations and living, and argues there is a significant correlation between supporting Indigenous textiles and helping promote Indigenous identity and combat discrimination, while also benefiting Indigenous women’s mental health and autonomy regarding gender roles and decision-making in their households. Making a livable income for their families through weaving also improves the chances of helping make the exploitation and robbery of Indigenous textiles harder. Through the use and creation of collectives, cooperatives, businesses, and guidelines for unethical corporations, a commerce bridge between Indigenous artisans and buyers in the market for Indigenous artisanal products can be established and consumers may be able to help artisans and their families have a better quality of life.

In the Blanton Museum’s Collection are four embroidered pillowcases by Paraguayan-born, Argentinian artist Feliciano Centurión. The four pieces are titled as follows: Luz divina de alma (Divine Light of the Soul), Reposa (Rest), Soledad (Solitude), and Sueña (Dream). These pieces were created in 1996 and are the last pieces made by Centurión before his death at the age of 36 in November of that year. As a queer artist who died from AIDS-related complications, Centurión’s art is inherently viewed through the lens of the queer experience and the AIDS epidemic, no matter the artist’s original intent behind his works. In my thesis, I aim to explore how the materiality and historical context of the pieces alters our understanding of both the artist’s intent and our own interpretations. Textiles are traditionally considered a feminine “domestic” craft and not commonly found in the traditional art historical canon. Although this view is changing, the bias still exists in the scholarly tradition and thus has an influence on how we value these works of art. Hence, I examine these four pillowcases in terms of their gendered nature in relation to the gender and sexual identity of their creator. It should be noted that homophobia often relies on the view that gay men are too “feminine,” relying on the assumption that femininity is a shameful thing for a man to be. I therefore also explore the connection between queer male identities and “feminine” artistic practices.

My project aims to use the material, formal, and historical elements of the four pillowcases to ascertain information about Centurión’s physical and mental state at the end of his life, to explore the artworks through a gendered lens of analysis, and to discuss the legacies of these artworks as they relate to our understanding of queer identities today.

Within the last two decades, Puerto Rico (and the Caribbean as a whole) has undergone massive socio-political and economic changes as a result of numerous natural disasters, exponentially increasing State violence and austerity, and the everlasting effects of both Spanish and American colonialism. Consequently, a prominent stream of contemporary Puerto Rican art has, too, paralleled these changes, and has manifested itself in ways equally ever evolving. This work explores the ways in which queer and disabled Puerto Rican artists utilize their art as a method of self-conceptualization, criticism, and resistance before colonial oppression, as well as the re-imagining of the “Caribbean identity” under the tourism economy. It is no secret that Puerto Rico’s colonial context deeply impacts the lives of Puerto Ricans in the archipelago and abroad; the same remains true for those that are queer and disabled, who are moreover subject to the violence of both queerphobia and ableism. This paper seeks to demonstrate the ways in which these influences are present in the selected works, and how they subvert the cis-heteronormativity and body-mind normativity (Kafai) left behind as a legacy of colonialism. The methodology employed to reach these findings includes the analysis of a selection of images through the lens of picture theory (Mitchell) and my own applied creative practices. Three Puerto Rican artists and Sins Invalid, a queer and disability justice-centered performance project, compose the sample group whose works and impact are studied. This work builds off the extensive research of Ann Millett-Gallant, whose work specializes in the intersection between art history and disability, and Shayda Kafai’s work, who has long studied the intersection between queerness, disability, and performance. Rarely have these intersections been studied within the context of Caribbean and/or Puerto Rican art history, which is the gap this paper hopes to begin to fill.

Miguel Luciano’s Vulture Brand Yams (2017) illustrates Puerto Ricans’ role in the United States economy since the early twentieth century while highlighting the importance of traditional iconography in the island’s resistance art. Spain ruled Puerto Rico from the fifteenth century until the Spanish-American War, when the United States’ governance started. As an artist, Luciano symbolizes Puerto Rican historical events, social issues, and cultural traditions. As part of the artist’s “Louisiana Porto Ricans” series, Vulture (2017) reimagines a product with Pop Art characteristics like text, satire, and appropriation. A recurring theme in his art is colonialism in the Caribbean. In Vulture (2017), the jíbaro and Taíno iconography represent indigenous and Boricua, the island’s indigenous demonym, heritage. Puerto Rico’s art community within the island and the American diaspora challenges Americanization by embracing the pre-Columbian Taíno society and the countryside jíbaro symbols. Luciano’s resistance reflects his reimagination of food labels sold in the US with Puerto Rican goods. Boricua cuisine encompasses a big part of Puerto Rican identity. The exploration of national identity through a political art lens develops in the idealization of the past. Coupled with the previously mentioned iconography, Puerto Rican identity becomes a combination of resistance to historical colonization. The use of heritage as a form of independence is a part of how art and artists create within a political space. That ideology poses compelling questions of assimilation, acceptance, and political knowledge. In this research, the evidence resides in historical documents highlighting the Taíno and jíbaro perseverance, the community art movements building the strength of Boricua traditions, and American art museums’ installations of protest art against American colonialism.

Contemporary Afro-Cuban American artist Harmonia Rosales (b. 1984) engages with themes of identity, Black femininity, and religious iconography, particularly within Afro-Cuban and African diasporic histories. Through the lenses of Renaissance and Baroque artistry, she illustrates the survival of the Yoruba across the Middle Passage and the stories of African divinities.  For instance, in her Master Narrative collection, Rosales blends Afro-Cuban Lucumí religious figures, Greco-Roman mythology, and Christian iconography with the iconic masterpieces of artists, such as Michelangelo. Through this fusion, she challenges the dominance of Eurocentric narratives in art, creating a space for marginalized cultural traditions to coexist within the traditional canon. One piece from her Master Narrative series, Birth of Oshun, reimagines Sandro Botticelli’s famed 1482 composition The Birth of Venus by replacing the classical figure of Venus with Oshun, an African orisha deity of fertility. This paper will explore how Rosales uses artistic appropriation to reframe Afro-Cuban and African diasporic cultural narratives. It will seek to emphasize Black femininity and religious symbolism as acts of reclamation and empowerment against the historical suppression of these identities in Western art history.

Jamaica is famous for its beaches, yet everyday Jamaicans are landlocked on an island nation. Hellshire Beach, one of the last free beaches in a country where less than 1% of the shoreline is accessible to the public, has long been a sanctuary for Kingston locals. However, the Hellshire shorefront has eroded dramatically over the past two decades, fueled by pollution, natural disaster, climate change, and unregulated development that have left the once-iconic stretch of white sand almost unrecognizable.

This talk examines Jamaican-born, Brooklyn-based artist Nickola Pottinger’s memorialization of the beach she grew up frequenting in her sculptures Hellshire beach (2023) and Hellshire beach 2 (2023). In these works, Pottinger reimagines the space as duppies, traditionally malevolent Caribbean spirits, transforming them into symbols of healing and resilience. Her sculptures fuse personal and communal histories, blending family archives and cultural symbols to reframe Jamaica’s tropicalized landscape. 

Through her art, Pottinger challenges fatalistic narratives of ecological decay, presenting instead the regenerative potential hidden beneath Jamaica’s overbuilt surface. Her work thus not only addresses the environmental decline of Hellshire Beach but also reclaims Jamaica’s cultural legacy, advocating for a future where its people regain control over their land, identity, and agency in the face of historical and contemporary forces of erasure.

The early medieval mosaics that remain in churches today have, necessarily and continuously, survived for centuries. This means that they were used by every intervening set of users, throughout the Middle Ages and until today. Late medieval pilgrims to Rome, seeking indulgences– pardons of sin that allowed for quicker access to heaven– would have encountered these mosaics, shaping their experiences of several churches in the city. Late medieval pilgrimage literature, like the Middle English poem Stacions of Rome and the Latin Indulgentiae tradition, reveals the beliefs and goals related to indulgences and salvation that pilgrims may have brought with them to Rome, as well as which churches they may have visited, including the churches of Saints Cosmas and Damian, Santa Cecilia and Santa Prassede. Scholarship about these churches’ mosaics often focuses on the goals of their early medieval Papal patrons. However, the content, materiality, and sensory experience of viewing the early medieval mosaics in these churches can also be read in light of later pilgrims’ beliefs and goals, illuminating the uses that popular audiences, rather than elite patrons, had for these images centuries after their creation. Early medieval mosaics reinforce the theological and sensory complex of late medieval pilgrimage, providing pilgrims with a persuasive vision of the basis of indulgences, the means of gaining access to heaven, and of heaven itself, and thus making the goals of pilgrimage look and feel credibly accessible.

This research examines the healing power of holy objects associated with the worship of Christian saints in the Byzantine period, focusing on the role of belief in their perceived efficacy. During this period, Christianity’s rise strongly influenced healthcare and charitable efforts. Both supernatural and physical methods of healing coexisted, with Christian saints playing a pivotal role in spiritual healing. Saints such as St. Theodore of Sykeon facilitated healing by recommending skilled physicians or providing healing resources, illustrating the intertwining of divine intervention and physical medicine. Central to this study are objects like ampullas, pilgrim tokens, and amulets, believed to carry the saints’ healing power. The ampulla with Saint Menas serves as an introduction to explore how such objects were viewed as conduits of divine grace. These items were thought to heal illness or protect against evil when contacted with or worshipped, with the user’s belief being crucial in their perceived effectiveness.

The research further explores the elements that shaped users’ belief in these objects. First, the miracles and virtues of saints were seen as directly connected to God, thereby reinforcing belief in the sanctity of holy objects. Second, the close association between saints and their relics imbued these objects with divine authority. For instance, an interesting case in this research was that some pilgrim tokens carry palm prints left when they were made, which may consciously convey to recipients the idea that the saint personally touched or blessed these tokens. In conclusion, the use of holy objects for healing in the Byzantine period was deeply rooted in faith and piety. These objects were not only physical tools but also powerful instruments of belief. Furthermore, belief shaped people’s behavior and lifestyles, leading to meaningful and beneficial changes

St. Denis holds its reputation in the world of Gothic architecture as the first “Gothic building”, and its thirteenth-century reconstruction is often considered a footnote in a long history of tearing down and rebuilding. However, this reconstruction serves as a landmark not only in the evolution of Gothic architecture, but as a visual representation of the ideological principles of a burgeoning national identity swirling around France at the time. Abbot Suger, the most prominent figure in the history of the abbey, specifically created the plans to remodel the old Carolingian church after his ideas of light and harmony, in which the architecture itself serves as decoration, and its physical manifestations are observed as the Rayonnant era of Gothic architecture, pioneered by this reconstruction. Although Suger died before his ideas could be fully implemented, his plans were strictly adhered to, due to his cult of personality among the French and his strong influence on both the church and the crown. Its novel triforium windows and intricate rose windows pioneered new ideas of light within the church, and the need to preserve old parts of the church, specifically which Suger had worked on, created slight differences in many aspects of the elevation, particularly among the arcade and clerestory, compared to other churches at the time. This reconstruction also eternally ties the abbey to the French crown, now serving as the official and sole necropolis and storage for reliquaries. This change in function necessitated innovations in the transept of the building to properly hold the populations who would come see the reliquaries and be able to properly display the royal tombs. An overlooked point in the long history of the abbey reveals much of what influential figures were projecting for the future of France, and how ideology sparked architectural innovations.

As two of the most iconic Gothic cathedrals in France, Notre-Dame de Paris and Chartres feature pointed arches, rib vaults, flying buttresses, and stained-glass windows. Notre-Dame de Paris was constructed in the center of Paris to symbolize the wealth and power of the monarchy and the church, while Chartres was rebuilt after a fire to embody the worship of the Virgin. Despite being constructed within about 30 years of each other, Chartres introduced significant innovations. By reviewing the cathedrals’ floor plans, interior images, virtual tours, and articles by art historians and architects, this paper explores how the similarities and differences between Notre-Dame de Paris and Chartres reflect development in medieval Gothic architecture and people’s beliefs. Focusing on the naves of the cathedrals, this paper compares the floor plans and structural elements of the elevations, including proportions, columns, capitals, shafts, and rib vaults. The nave of Notre-Dame de Paris, with its double side aisles and double bays, sophisticated capital decoration and en délit, and sexpartite rib vaults, represents early Gothic experimentation. In contrast, Chartres’ streamlined construction, with its simplified nave layout and quadripartite vaulting, reflects a shift toward efficiency, enabling taller and more open interiors. Its ABA elevation accommodated a larger clerestory, while a stronger support system, such as thicker walls and pilier cantonné, allowed for a higher nave. These innovations prioritized height and luminosity and enhanced the spiritual experience of medieval worshippers by creating soaring and heaven-like spaces. Through this comparative analysis, this paper examines that Chartres embodied key developments in Gothic architecture, emphasizing taller buildings, larger stained-glass windows, and brighter interior spaces. These innovations not only influenced architectural trends in the Middle Ages but also reflected people of that era’s pursuit of a closer connection between heaven and God.

The use of monsters in Western medieval manuscripts created a vast catalog of fierce and fearsome creatures. Whether they were thought to roam the peripheries of the empire or were purely a fantastical element used as an allegory, monsters were a potent part of illumination traditions across Europe. In the margins of books, they served as decorations or drove the narrative experience of the reader. As focal points in stories they represented sly or mischievous maligners disinterested in the Christian rhetoric, or they became manifestations of God’s will and creation in medieval bestiaries. Dominating the Western mindset, monsters were directly used to represent the fear of the “other,” those who did not conform to the normative views of the Christian system. Monsters had their place on the outskirts of society, both physically and figuratively, just as the marginalized communities of the Middle Ages did and therefore were a tool to represent the anxieties held by the Christian ruling class. In analyzing Medieval manuscript illumination’s historical, social, and technical content, fear of the other is exposed through depictions of monsters and the monstrous. The representation concerning communities that existed on the edge of the Western world gives insights into different perceptions of their real or imagined cultural identity.

Throughout Europe in the fifteenth century, astrological and astronomical knowledge was highly valued and sought after by wealthy patrons as both a sign of their education in the liberal arts and their affluence. This crave led to the creation of many beautifully illuminated books which are still famous today for their intriguing astrological imagery, such as Les Très Riches Heures du duc de Berry by the Limbourg brothers and Sphaerae coelestis et planetarum descriptio attributed to Cristoforo de Predis (amongst many others). These books illustrate some ways in which scientific knowledge traveled and was taught in the fifteenth century, as well as the shared taste of the ruling elite, and it is therefore tempting to consider them all as part of the same ‘genre’ of illuminated books. However, astrology and astronomy being indivisible at the time, the kind of knowledge contained in these books had diverse and far-reaching applications, from medicine to travel as well as measuring time and predicting someone’s personality. Furthermore, the books themselves were used in both religious and secular contexts, and they differed in their educational approach and purpose. Should “15th century illuminated astrological books” be considered a category of their own despite their encompassing objects which significantly differ from each other? To illustrate the diversity residing within this category, this essay will discuss the two aforementioned examples, chosen both for the consequent academic writing they have received and for their many dissimilarities. By analyzing and contrasting their astrological content, I hope to introduce the reader to different genres of astronomical imagery, as well as their relevance to the study of late Renaissance art. 

In the last decade of the Trecento, Spinello Aretino executed a double-sided processional banner for a Florentine confraternity. Now on display in the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s recently reopened European Painting galleries, this banner depicts Mary Magdalen enthroned and surrounded by angels on the obverse. The Flagellation of Christ is rendered on the reverse. Since its acquisition by the Met in 1913, scholarship on this painting has predominantly focussed on establishing provenance and offering art historical and theological interpretations of the banner’s reverse. Beyond passing commentary within these contexts, little attention has been paid to Aretino’s unique depiction of Saint Mary Magdalen, who, during the Trecento and Quattrocento, was more often shown at the base of the cross in image cycles depicting the Passion of Christ, in the Noli me tangere as the first witness to Christ’s resurrection, or as an emaciated penitent. Instead of these more common representations of the saint, Spinello Aretino places her as the image’s central focus, establishing her as a monumental and institutional presence that visually frames the crucified Christ. In this paper, I contextualize Aretino’s banner within the context of the Magdalen’s cult as well as the popular spiritual landscape of late Trecento and early Quattrocento Florence, where penance and emotionality were emerging as pillars of devotional practice and spiritual identity. This examination will not only suggest the imagery’s reception by the confraternity for which it was made but also consider the broader spiritual identity it promoted for those who would have viewed the banner in a public setting.

Saint Catherine of Siena inhabited a unique gender role: as recounted in the hagiography by Raymond of Capua, her life was marked by frequent travel, outspoken advocacy, and enthusiastic argument, all of which were underscored by her experience of mystical visions. Even though it does not contain all the theological and self-perceptive nuances found in Catherine’s own Dialogue and letters, Raymond’s account presented a life full of public and political exercises of charity and teaching. Despite the text’s acceptance by the Church and use for the promotion of Dominican worthiness, the paintings made between 1380 and 1580 of its scenes often depicted Catherine as passive, parallel with Christ the sufferer far more than Christ the teacher or the healer. Drawing particularly on research by Karen Scott, Susan Wegner, and Elizabeth Petroff, I will argue that paintings by di Benvenuto, Il Sodoma, and Beccafumi use these conventions to mitigate the more unfamiliar aspects of Catherine’s life, simultaneously rendering her a more effective role model for cloistered Dominican nuns and depriving her of significant amounts of complexity and power.