Review written by Laurie Boissenin

On Wednesday, 11 June, our team had the pleasure of attending an online conference by Till-Holger Borchert, during which the German art historian shared his insights on the function of portraiture and representation between 1400 and 1530. Borchert is a specialist in painting and illuminations from the fourteenth, fifteenth and sixteenth century. He has worked on various aspects of portraiture and representation in Northern Europe. Currently the director of the Suermondt-Ludwig-Museum Aachen, he has previously worked in Bruges for more than twenty years. He has curated for numerous exhibitions in Belgium, Europe and in the United States. Moreover, he is the author of several books, including Van Eyck, first published by Taschen in 2008, and Peinture flamande : de Van Eyck à Rubens published by Citadelles & Mazenod in 2014.
What are the purposes of portraits?
In an endeavor to answer this question, Borchert begins his lecture with the perplexing betrothal portrait of Isabella of Portugal, originally painted by Jan van Eyck around 1429. Now lost, the portrait is only known through its copies. Van Eyck was sent to Portugal between 1428 and 1429 as part of an official embassy tasked with evaluating the suitability of Isabella as a bride for Philip the Good, duke of Burgundy. Two copies of this portrait were shipped back to the Low Countries. Till-Holger Borchert explains that these served the obvious purpose of showing the Duke what his future wife might look like. However, he believes that they may also have acted as a means of ensuring her identity, in order to prevent usurpers from claiming the throne. In this context, the portrait acts as a kind of insurance; it becomes an essential tool for safeguarding the future of the House of Burgundy.

Representations of Isabella of Portugal repeat certain of her traits and characteristics – such as her iconic white veil – so that she remains easily recognizable, regardless of the period or the medium. Borchert illustrates this with the help of the engraved votive tablet situated in the choir of the Barfüsserkirche in Basel, Switzerland. This memorial tablet was donated by Isabella of Portugal to the local charterhouse. It presents an engraved portrait of the Burgundian ducal couple with their son, the future Charles the Bold. An inscription beneath the image reminds the viewer that the duchess donated the substantial sum of 17,000 florins to the Charterhouse of Basel during the council of Basel (1431-1449). Isabella appears in her typical white veil whereas a young Philip the Good can be seen wearing the golden fleece, which serves to indicate succession. The art historian explains that the engraving carries the function of commemorating the dead as well as the vow that was taken during the votive offering. The portrait thus holds a memorial function; not for the people it represents but for the vows they have taken.


Till-Holger Borchert then shares his analysis of Jan van Eyck’s ‘Portrait of a Man with a Blue Chaperon’, which was commissioned and completed around 1430. The ring, which the sitter is holding, was long interpreted to be as a sign of his profession as a goldsmith or a jeweler and therefore as an early example of what becomes the “occupational portrait” during the 16th century. However, according to Borchert, the prominence of the sitter’s ear seems to indicate that the subject is awaiting an answer. He thus classifies this painting as a betrothal portrait (of which there are several examples in Northern European Painting, such as men holding flowers etc.).

He compares it to a similar portrait by the Flemish master, kept in Vienna: ‘Portrait of Jan de Leeuw’, completed in 1436. Here, van Eyck plays with the expectations of the medieval viewer, who would have been accustomed to seeing betrothal portraits and would most likely have interpreted the ring as a sign of a recent engagement. In this second portrait however, the subject looks outside of the image to address the viewer, which, as Borchert specifies, is rather rare for the period. In his opinion, it is thus clear that the portrait is not an offer for marriage but that the ring refers to the craft of the artisan, a goldsmith. As Borchert puts it: ‘The subject offers you his métier,not his hand in marriage.

Where did people encounter portraits?
Portrait of Marguerite van Eyck – exhibited in the chapel of the painters’ guild of Bruges until the beginning of the 18th century – is considered to be the first portrait of a non-noble woman in Western history. T.-H. Borchert points out the date which is hidden inside the frame as well as an inscription in Latin: ‘My husband Johannes completed me in the year 1439 on 17 June / My age was thirty-three’. The viewer’s only means to know the subject of the portrait is thus to know the artist. This portrait and its inscription have captured the interest of feminist art historians, notably for the repeated use of personal pronouns and the notion that the subject is completed by her husband. The inscription as well as the gaze of the sitter directly address the viewer. T.-H. Borchert explains that these elements contradict a more intuitive first reading of the painting which would suggest that it was painted for the domestic setting. Furthermore, the language of the inscription, Latin, seems to suggest that the portrait is aimed for public rather than private use.

This reasoning leads the art historian to question the place of display of these portraits during the 15th century. Who had access to them? Who were they addressing? As he asks these questions, Borchert highlights the importance of medium, which is a crucial element in the interpretation of portraits and is often overlooked by contemporary historians and art historians, who, by working with digital documents, tend to forget the materiality of these works. The materiality of art however, as Borchert reminds us, would have had an influence on its function.
Genres of representation
Borchert then raised the question of whether portraits were classified by their functions or by their pictorial medium. He highlights the equal difficulty and importance of investigating whether painted and sculpted epitaphs – both of which include representations of the deceased – would have been understood by contemporary viewers as painting and sculpture, as they are seen today, or, whether they were viewed as memorial tools. The specific forms of representing likeness in epitaphs also relates to portraits found in manuscripts in which donors are depicted in devotion. Borchert argues that these images serve the same purpose than those in epitaphs, in that they document the piousness of the depicted persons.

Memorials and miniatures as performance of social identity
For the art historian, memorials do not only serve to immortalize certain people or events, but they are also an essential way of displaying the identity of the ruling class. Some representations echo court ceremonies and presumably idealize them. Within those type of representational iconography, he explains, heraldry becomes a particularly useful means for display of political power. Indeed, coat of arms can stand in for a duke or a king and symbolically represent their identity.
Within imperial representations, the portrait has become a specific type. In those portraits, the ruling class is often represented in proximity to significant coat of arms in order to assert their power. To illustrate this, Borchert invokes several illuminated manuscripts, including the frontispiece of a manuscript which was commissioned by Philip the Good in 1448. In it, he is surrounded by members of his court (Nicolas Rolin and Jean Chevrot can be identified) and framed by the coat of arms of his territories, thus evoking his far-reaching influence.

Furthermore, the duke is dressed in typical Burgundian attire: a black fur trimmed cloak and the collar of the Golden Fleece around his neck. These symbols convey the magnitude of his wealth as well as the splendor of his court. They act as tools in the performance of his identity. Just like Isabella of Portugal and her white veil, Philip the Good thus remains easily recognizable though an archetypal wardrobe.
Maximilian of Austria, husband of Mary of Burgundy, inherits this practice from Philip the Good. When he becomes the new Holy Roman Emperor in 1508, he adopts the Burgundian decorum and adapts it to his own needs. As Borchert notes, the constant denominator of the Burgundian insignia is the golden fleece, symbolizing the antique lineage into which the Burgundians wish to insert themselves. In 1521, Emperor Charles V then restricts the insignia of power to the Golden Fleece alone.
Picturing activities: portraits of society
Borchert ends his presentation by introducing a type of medieval iconography which is particularly relevant to our project: calendar miniatures depicting the tasks of the month. Indeed, this type of imagery provides crucial insight into the way in which the passing of time was perceived.

He explains that these illuminations follow a specific convention for the depiction of both agrarian and leisurely activities. This tradition becomes more and more elaborate over time, giving us insight into how people acted and how they viewed themselves – or, more accurately, how the elites looked at laborers. Borchert draws a parallel with this type of medieval imagery and the famous Early Modern depictions of the four seasons such as those of Pieter Bruegel.

These ‘portraits of society’, broaden and enrich academic perspectives on the defining criteria of portraiture. Does a portrait need to have a single subject to qualify as such?Borchert’s presentation mostly highlighted political portraiture; must portraits depict a real person? Or can they represent imagined or mythical figures? What is the role of religious iconography in the shaping of societal hierarchies? How are the medium and the accessibility – and thus the reception – of portraits connected? These are but some of the questions that emerged during our fruitful conversation which followed the presentation.
In conclusion, viewing portraits not merely as representations but as a medium for performance enables a more precise level of analysis. As such, portraits serve to establish social identities and hierarchies, making them a fascinating gateway for the examination of these structures.



















