The Secret History of Art is back from the holidays. With a number of books that I have to write this winter, we’ll be coming to you with a bit less frequency–new articles will appear here on Tuesdays and Fridays with the occasional extra feature. We begin with a longer feature on a popular art historical mystery that is still widely misunderstood, the famous Shroud of Turin.
The Christmas season is a time for reflection on religious mysteries. And Christmas presents. But today, The Secret History of Art will examine the famous Shroud of Turin. There are few relics that are so poorly understood, despite the publication of significant and scholarly material that clears up any possible confusion. Let’s see what all the fuss is about.
To begin with, let me state clearly: all scholarly evidence suggests that the Shroud of Turin is a 13th century fake, a work of art created to look as though it might be the actual burial shroud used to wrap the corpse of Jesus. The question of how it continues to attract visitors who believe that it is a real relic is of sociological interest. But what is it, and where did it come from?
The cult of a miraculous cloth actually begins around the same time. The legend of the Veronica Veil, a sudarium (literally cloth for sweat) that Veronica was said to have proferred to Christ on his way to Calvary does not appear in the Bible. The story goes that Christ wiped his sweaty, blood-stained brow with the cloth and handed it back to Veronica—but the cloth, or veil, miraculously retained an image of Christ’s face in it, which it does to this day. It became one of the most important relics held at the Vatican and is worshipped there, although the public is not permitted to see it.
The Veronica Veil story was largely disseminated by the huge best-selling group biography of the saints called “The Golden Legend,” by the 13th century Archbishop of Genoa, Jacobus da Voragine. We’ll discuss the Veronica Veil in greater detail in another article, but suffice it to say that the story as it was related in “The Golden Legend” became part of the apocryphal canon, stories that are not in the Bible itself but that we associated integrally with the life of Christ to the point when most people assume that the story is from the Bible. Jacobus himself ends his relation of the Veronica Veil story with a caveat: “And hitherto is this story called apocryphum read. They that have read this, let them say and believe as it shall please them.” (Noted in Martin Kemp’s new book, Christ to Coke, which I reviewed for ARTINFO recently).
The Shroud of Turin rises from the tradition, launched largely by the popularity of the Veronica Veil, itself an acheiropoieta, a spontaneously-generated image, not made by human hand. In particular it is associated with the idea of a mandylion, a version of the Veronica Veil story in which an ill king was sent the veil, or mandylion, by Veronica and was miraculously cured. The idea that some works were miraculously created without human intervention is a popular one and throughout the Middle Ages cults of worship of such images rose up in Europe. The Shroud of Turin is meant to be seen as one such miraculous relic.
So what is the Shroud? Literally, it is a linen sheet of the sort that would wrap a body as it was prepared for burial. This linen sheet bares the imprint of a bearded man, arms folded across his groin. Most importantly, one can clearly see wounds in his wrists, as if he had been crucified. However it is far easier to see the form of a man’s body in a photographic negative image of the Shroud—seeing it in person makes it difficult to make out the form upon it.
The first record of the Shroud is in Lirey in France the 1350s, when the Lord of Savoy established a church dedicated to its veneration. It was said to have been brought to France from the Holy Land by a French knight, Geoffrey de Charny (no relation, as far as I know) who died at the Battle of Poitiers in 1356. This Charny is not to be confused with the Templar Knight, Geoffroi de Charney, who may have been related to the former, and was burned at the stake in 1314 (also no relation, but hey, you never know). Pierre d’Arcis, Bishop of Troyes, wrote to Pope Clement VII in Avignon in 1389 requesting that the Shroud be declared a false relic. As early as 1389, a bishop was convinced that the Shroud was a fake. His rationale? As Martin Kemp writes in Christ to Coke, d’Arcis wrote that his predecessor as Bishop of Troyes, Henri de Poitiers, “eventually, after diligent inquiry and examination” concluded that “said cloth had been cunningly painted, the truth being attested by the artist who had painted it, to wit, that it was a work of human skill and not miraculously wrought or bestowed.” Case closed, right?
The Bishop’s word was insufficient to quell the enthusiasm of the worshipping masses to see relics. The fact that there was a lively trade in fake relics throughout the Middle Ages did not stop the hunger for worshippers to see tangible “proof” that supports their beliefs. The Shroud remained part of the House of Savoy and was a tourist attraction even in the 16th century, when it was moved to Turin in 1578 so that pilgrims could see it more easily. There it has remained. In 1958, the Vatican officially approved of the Shroud as a legitimate means of Catholic devotion.
But authorities in Turin did something extraordinary in 1988—they permitted the Shroud to undergo scientific testing from three different international laboratories. The Vatican has never permitted this for their relics—after all, it’s a situation that can only be detrimental to them. If the science proves the relic to be of the correct age and therefore possibly legitimate, then they have not really gained anything—true believers believed anyway, and that a relic is the correct age will not necessarily convince non-believers to start believing. If the science disproves the possible authenticity of the relic then the Church would have egg on its face—something touted as legitimate, and prayed to by millions will have been proven false. You can understand why it is a rare thing for a religious relic to be offered up for scientific study.
And yet, in 1988, the Shroud was sent to three labs. But before we get to the scientific analyses, art historian Martin Kemp offers an art historical analysis that does not support its authenticity. Kemp notes that the linen, had it been placed on a corpse, would have sunken around the body, molding to it. When the linen was stretched flat afterwards, impressions of the flanks of the body, the top of the head, the soles of the feet, would likely be seen—in the Shroud they are not visible. Only the front of the corpse may be seen. The limbs of the corpse are stick-like, and even the fingers look more like Gothic painted anatomy rather than any real body. Kemp suggests that, if asked to estimate the date of the Shroud as an artwork, he would suggest late 13th/early 14th century.
The art historical analysis matches with the scientific studies. Carbon-dating from the scientific labs placed the Shroud circa 1300. University of Oxford, University of Arizona, and the Swiss Federal Institute of Technology all agreed that the Shroud dated from 1260-1390 AD with a 95% confidence in this date range—about as good as one could hope for with carbon dating. So the original Bishop of Troyes was supported by 20th century science. It appears that the Shroud was created around 1300 in order to look like an ancient relic. A separate study done by renowned forensic scientist Walter McCrone in 1979 suggested that the image of the body of the Shroud was actually made up of microscopic pigment particles, and therefore that the image had been painted with hematite, an iron oxide otherwise known as “blood ore.”
The debate rages, as it will when objects of devotion clash with scientific studies, and when imagination and romanticism duels with empirical evidence. The bottom line is that belief in relics such as the Shroud is a choice that anyone is permitted to make, though so often we forget that the Church does not permit the worship of idols, and that any image or relic is meant as a devotional aide through which one is brought closer to God—the object itself must not be worshipped. Martin Luther and the Reformation objected to the confusion on the part of Catholics as to whether they were praying to, or praying through objects. The latter was acceptable, the former not. But the cult of relics, and relic-worship, provides a mid-ground for pure believers and those who need to see some evidence before they are willing to believe. True believers point to a relic as tangible evidence of what they would believe anyway, while those on the fence feel that their belief is warranted thanks to the presence of visible “proof” of what they would like to believe in.
Tags: acheiropoieta, battle of poitiers, bishop of troyes, blood ore, christ to coke, geoffrey de charny, geoffroi de charney, golden legend, henri de poitiers, iron oxide, Jacobus da Voragine, Lirey, mandylion, martin kemp, martin luther, mccrone shroud, noah charney, pierre d'Arcis, pope clement VII, shroud, shroud of turin, Swiss Federal Institute of Technology, torino, turin, veronica veil, walter mccrone



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