Great works of art touch the human spirit. That truth came home to me once again recently when I revisited one of the most beautiful masterworks of late medieval art.
This series of tapestries, dating from the end of the 15th century, bears the name “The Lady and the Unicorn” and is displayed in the Cluny Museum in Paris. The names of the artists who designed and then wove these six tapestries are unknown but they are thought to be from Flanders and Paris itself.
Rediscovered in 1883, they had to be restored because of serious damage to both figures and colors. Now, thanks to modern scientific methods of repair, they have emerged in something like their original glory.
An overall description of the tapestries comes from the museum: “A Lady, flanked by a lion and a unicorn, is depicted on a dark-blue ‘isle’ set against a contrasting red or pink flower-strewn background; each of the activities she is involved in symbolizes one of the five senses.”
But this prose description does not do justice to the charm and brilliance of each tapestry. The lady is gracious, dressed in long flowing robes and with a different headdress in each of the six pieces. In each, she is flanked by a friendly lion on her left and an attentive unicorn on her right. The latter’s single horn juts up from his head, tall and sharp.
About these scenes, the museum handout comments: “The slender silhouettes of these Ladies emanate a dreamlike grace and an elegance that lead us into an imaginary world inhabited by the beauty of mysterious women and unicorns.”
As noted above, each of five tapestries symbolizes one of the senses. The first, sight, is shown by the unicorn looking at himself in a mirror that the lady holds before his face. Hearing is portrayed by the lady playing a portable organ, much to the delight of her handmaiden and the animals.
The sense of taste is dramatized by the lady reaching out for a sugared almond that is held out to her in a parrot’s beak, and another in a monkey’s mouth. For smell, the lady fashions a necklace of violets while a monkey holds a flower to the lady’s nose. Finally, touch is seen as the lady grasps the horn of the unicorn with her left hand.
The sixth tapestry mysteriously delivers the main message of the work. The lady appears, putting the necklace back into the jewel case. The museum explains this action thus: “With this gesture of renunciation, she asserts her ‘sole desire’ or her refusal to capitulate to the passions aroused by inordinate senses.”
Thus love is revealed as the greatest value in human life. For the woman love is “mon seul desir” (my only wish) according to the words inscribed in the sixth and final tapestry. The life of the senses cannot bring ultimate satisfaction; only love can.
Adding to my pleasure in contemplating these classic tapestries, a group of some 15 French school children entered the display room. At the bidding of their teacher, these six or seven year old urchins sat down on the floor in front of the artworks. As they looked on, a woman instructor directed their attention to various features of the tapestries and carried on a dialogue with them. They asked questions about the animals and listened with interest to information designed to raise their consciousness of the beauty before them. I felt some envy of these boys and girls getting off to such a fast start in appreciation of fine art.
Admittedly, words can never really describe highly creative works of the imagination. Those wishing a more vivid appreciation of what is described here can see for themselves pictures of the tapestries on the Internet or, of course, in many books devoted to French art. Using the search engine Google, I typed in “Lady and the Unicorn” and gained access to pictures of all six tapestries, plus information about them.
It would do violence to this masterwork of centuries past if I overemphasized its moral. Its overall beauty of conception and execution ultimately count for more. However, in stressing human love as a greater value than indulgence of the senses, it does remind viewers of a spiritual truth of supreme importance.
Richard Griffin