Carlo Crivelli

The Annunciation, with Saint Emidius, 1486, Egg and oil on canvas, 207 x 146.7 cm, The National Gallery, London; NG739, ©️ National Gallery, London / Art Resource, NY

A Feast for the Eyes

Commentary by Mary Kisler

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Carlo Crivelli’s The Annunciation, with St Emidius is like a medieval tapestry, rich with colour and movement; laden with both symbolism and historical specificity. Commissioned for the Church of Santissima Annunziata in Ascoli Piceno, it celebrates the partial grant of self-government to the city by Pope Sixtus IV in 1486. The news arrived on 25 March, the feast of the Annunciation, a theme which Crivelli adapts so as also to honour the town’s patron saint, Emidius.

At the left of the scene, members of the Observant Friars, commissioners of the painting, are informed of the grant. But only the small child witnesses the angel Gabriel, white lily of the Annunciation in hand, whose progress has been halted by St Emidius, holding a model of Ascoli. The angel’s fantastical costume has still not settled after his descent, but neither seems aware of the rush of air that, having whipped the trees in the enclosed garden at the rear of the composition, has passed overhead. The Dove of the Holy Spirit flies onward, carrying word to the Virgin.

On one level, the painting is a paean to the bodily senses—sound, smell, touch, and taste—but each of these is also the bearer of spiritual meaning. Mary is kneeling at her prayer stool in the doorway, its scarlet and gold curtain drawn back to reveal a richly decorated patrician interior rather than a humble abode. On a high shelf, precious containers symbolize aspects of Christian teaching: books (the Word); a gold candlestick; and an alabastron or ointment jar. Gold, the most precious metal on earth, reflector of light and therefore knowledge, was gifted to the infant Christ by the wise men, along with frankincense and myrrh.

The dizzying array of objects constantly draw the eye backwards and forwards in Crivelli’s painting, but there is one item, balanced almost casually, that may relate to the lyrical final line on the Song of Solomon. On the shelf above Mary, a translucent glass vessel stands, the light passing through it illuminating the grain of wood covering the wall. It represents the purity of the Virgin Mary, before, during, and after birth, for ‘You are all fair, my love; there is no flaw in you’ (Song 4:7).

See full exhibition for Song of Solomon 4:1–7

Song of Solomon 4:1–7

Revised Standard Version

4Behold, you are beautiful, my love,

behold, you are beautiful!

Your eyes are doves

behind your veil.

Your hair is like a flock of goats,

moving down the slopes of Gilead.

2Your teeth are like a flock of shorn ewes

that have come up from the washing,

all of which bear twins,

and not one among them is bereaved.

3Your lips are like a scarlet thread,

and your mouth is lovely.

Your cheeks are like halves of a pomegranate

behind your veil.

4Your neck is like the tower of David,

built for an arsenal,

whereon hang a thousand bucklers,

all of them shields of warriors.

5Your two breasts are like two fawns,

twins of a gazelle,

that feed among the lilies.

6Until the day breathes

and the shadows flee,

I will hie me to the mountain of myrrh

and the hill of frankincense.

7You are all fair, my love;

there is no flaw in you.