The Middelburg Altarpiece (Bladelin Altarpiece)

During the second quarter of the 15th century, Rogier van der Weyden advanced to the status of the most sought-after and influential painter of his time, and was also greatly esteemed at the court of the Burgundian Duke Philip the Good and the surrounding milieu. Neither in northern Europe nor in Italy, to be sure, did his literary fame ever match that of Jan van Eyck’s, who was later consistently regarded
as Rogier’s teacher, albeit erroneously. Rogier’s inventions, however, his typical, memorable figures and compositions, became models for generations of painters, and would find lingering echoes in the works of artists such as Hans Memling, as well as Dierick Bouts and Gerard David.
The present triptych was commissioned from Rogier van der Weyden towards the middle of the century by a member of the social elite of the Burgundian Netherlands. Its presently accepted name goes back to Middelburg in Flanders, where the work may have been found in the 16th century. The town was newly founded around 1448 by Pieter Bladelin, a wealthy merchant from Bruges. It is however, anything but certain that the triptych was in fact connected with Bladelin, particularly since
only one donor is depicted, although Bladelin’s wife founded the new town together with her husband. There is little doubt that the triptych – whose outer sides were originally unpainted – served as the retabel of a small altar, probably in a private chapel, which however was as likely to have been found in Bruges or Brussels as in Middelburg.
In the central panel, we witness the Nativity in a stable in Bethlehem, conceived here as the ruins of King David’s palace, a visualisation of the birth of the New Covenant from the ruins of the old one, which is to say of Christendom from Judaism. Mary, who wears luminous white as an emblem of her virginity, worships the child, while Joseph approaches with a candle whose light is eclipsed by the radiance of the divine child – a direct reference to the vision of Saint Bridget of Sweden (1303–73),
who was much read in the 15th century. Kneeling on the right in front of the child is a second man, who completes the semicircle of worshipers; he is the same size as the saints. He is clad in a black robe, which – like the wooden pattens on his feet – corresponds to the fashions found in the immediate circle around Duke Philip. He is the work’s donor, and has had himself placed within the scene with a prominence that is quite exceptional.
The pictures on the two wings depict events that are reported in the Legenda aurea, a widely disseminated collection of legends about the saints, both said to have coincided with the birth of the Lord. Seen on the left is the Roman Emperor Augustus in his bedchamber. He is being urged by the senators to have himself worshiped as a God, and therefore asks the Tiburtine Sibyl whether a greater ruler than himself has ever been born. At this point, an altar appears in the sky upon which the Mother of God is seated with her son. The sibyl, dressed entirely in green, gestures towards the boy as the greatest ruler of all. Recognising the Lord, Augustus kneels before the vision, removing his crown from his head and makes an offering of incense. In the distant Orient, depicted on the right-hand side panel, the Three Magi kneel at the same hour before a star which takes the form of a small boy; once
again, it is the son of God, who enjoins the rulers to travel to Judea. Visible in the depths of the landscape behind them is a preceding episode during which the Three Magi wash themselves ritually in the river to purify themselves in preparation for the vision. While the central panel displays Bethlehem in the Holy Land, situated according to contemporary perceptions at the centre of the world, it is Rome, i.e. the West, which is visible on the left, and the Orient, the East, on the right. The
panorama formed by the three panels, then, represents the entire world. Equally explicit is the program of the work as a whole: both the Roman Emperor as well as the kings of the Orient, and consequently all earthly rulers, are Christ’s subjects. The unknown layman in courtly attire, who also venerates the Christ child, seems to have occupied a station which authorised his direct juxtaposition with the Emperor and the Magi. In the three panels, Rogier van der Weyden has succeeded in creating compositions and figures that would remain exemplary for more than half a century. Around 10 to 15 years later, an assistant from his workshop produced a copy, with just a few variations, of the left-hand side wing, now in a square format and somewhat distended, and intended for a wider triptych; it is also found in Berlin. Stephan Kemperdick