"Da Vinci" and Other Codes - Part 2

Saviour of the World - 16th century, Giampietrino. Geometry: 2022, DS.

"In alchemy, the symbol for the perfected Great Work is the hermaphrodite - literally the god Hermes and the goddess Aphrodite blended in one person. Leonardo was fascinated with hermaphrodites, even going so far as to cover sheet after sheet of his sketchpad with drawings of them - some pornographic. And recent work on the world's most famous portrait - the enigmatically smirking Mona Lisa - has shown that 'she" was none other than Leonardo himself.

...During our travels to France, we repeatedly found that towns which had formerly been Templar property - such as Utelle in Provence and Alet-les Bains in Languedoc - subsequently became centres of alchemy. It is also significant that the alchemists, like the Templars, had a special veneration for John the Baptist."

- Two separate but related quotes from The Templar Revelation, 1997, Lynn Picknett and Clive Prince; a non-fiction documentation of many of the elements which surfaced in the Da Vinci Code, plus a few dozen more. This compilation of facts, speculations, and anecdotes is enough to make your head spin!

Images: Inset right is Da Vinci's St. John the Baptist with his hand pointing heavenward in what is actually a very common position in religious images during that period. He is dressed in animal skins in reference to time he spent as a hermit in the desert. While, at a quick glance, he might appear androgynous, in reality - and in a clearer reproduction - he simply appears to be a romantically handsome man. Doubtlessly, Leonardo thought so, too. The model was his lover, Salino Giacomo, also known as Salai (see Mon Salai).

"In Psychology, C.G. Jung used the term to denote "an archetypal pairing of contrasexual opposites, which symbolized the communication of the conscious and unconscious minds, the conjunction of two organisms without the loss of identity." He used syzygy to liken the alchemical term albedo with unconscious contrasexual soul images; the anima in men and animus in women.

In Gnosticism, syzygy is a divine active-passive, male-female pair of aeons, complementary to one another rather than oppositional; they comprise the divine realm of the Pleroma (the totality of God's powers), and in themselves characterize aspects of the unknowable Gnostic God."

- Via this Mythic Imagination Institute page. Inset right is an example of one of many medieval "penitent Magdalene" paintings - this one by Giampietrino. His version shows the Magdalene as a hermit in a desert (or, possibly, a cave in the wilderness) dressed down in what appears to be her overgrown hair. According to some sources, the hermit-in-the-desert scenario may actually be the result of a confusion with a different Mary: Mary of Egypt.

"In the system of Valentinus, as expounded by Irenaeus, the origin of things was traced to two eternal co-existent principles, a male and a female... The whole Aeonology of Valentinus was based on a theory of syzygies, or pairs of Aeons, each Aeon being provided with a consort; and the supposed need of the co-operation of a male and female principle for the generation of new ones, was common to Valentinus and some earlier Gnostic systems. But it was a disputed point in these systems whether the First Principle of all was thus twofold. There were those, both in earlier systems, and even among the Valentinians who held, that the origin of things was to be traced to a single Principle, which some described as hermaphrodite; others said was above all sex."

- Excerpt from the Wiki entry for Aeon (Gnosticism).

"The Borborites...were an early Christian Gnostic sect during the late fourth century who had numerous scriptures involving Mary Magdalene, including The Questions of Mary, The Greater Questions of Mary, The Lesser Questions of Mary, and The Birth of Mary. None of these texts have survived to the present, but they are mentioned by the early Christian heretic-hunter Epiphanius of Salamis in his Panarion. Epiphanius says that the Greater Questions of Mary contained an episode in which, during a post-resurrection appearance, Jesus took Mary to the top of a mountain, where he pulled a woman out of his side and engaged in sexual intercourse with her. Then, upon ejaculating, Jesus drank his own semen and told Mary, 'Thus we must do, that we may live.'"

- Excerpt from the Wiki entry for Mary Magdalene. The Borborites were pretty outrageous... if Epiphanius the heretic-hunter is to be believed. (Probably not!) I must say though, that the odd scene with Christ, Magdalene and the semen sounds almost hermetic. Meanwhile, later in the entry, we are informed that  - according to St. Jerome - Mary Magdalene was actually married to John the Evangelist... which is often just another name for John the Apostle. It gets complicated.

***

I am not a conventionally religious person, but when I first lay my eyes on "Saviour of the World" (inset left and also introducing this post) by the 16th century Italian painter Giampietrino (See Part 1), I was very drawn to it. Unexpectedly, while one might assume that, for a painter of Christian images, the "Saviour" would resemble Christ, it seems Giampietrino was not envisioning Christ... at least not the archetypal Christ figure.* He was envisioning the quintessential youthful androgyny. It could be a boy. It could be the boy's twin sister. The expression on its face is gentle and, yet, guarded, inscrutable. It's as if it knows something - possibly everything - and it's testing us... challenging us. But, ultimately, its message is sub rosa and it may as well be an alchemical cryptogram. Perhaps, it is.

For example, instead of the expected crown or halo, there are three large, key-like structures surrounding the figure's head. They could be the upper portion of a cross placed in the background... or three embedded keys in a golden triangle (the horizontal type) array. Considering that the figure is positioned within a large GTS, we might choose the latter.

Meanwhile, the saviour holds the earth in its hand like a crystal ball it has just uncovered. What fleeting mysteries lie on its featureless surface? Once again, we are clueless...

But - and this probably comes as no surprise - if there are mysterious codes to be deciphered, my money is on Giampietrino as opposed to Leonardo.

Which brings us to the next image. Going back to the idea of a "savior," below is one of Giampietrino's actual interpretations of Christ, and this is possibly the weirdest portrayal I've ever seen. In it, Christ is holding up an iron triangle while enigmatically pointing to himself... as if to say: "Who, moi?" His expression, however, almost appears ironic as if he was merely play-acting. What variety of Christ is this?

Christ with the Symbol of the Trinity, 16th century, Giampietrino. Geometry: 2022, DS.

According to the painting's title, the triangle represents the trinity, but, if so, what is it that perplexes the Christ figure? Meanwhile, once again, we find the GTS; it's golden triangle effectively bisecting Christ's head while the graceful hand holding the triangle neatly lines up with the (golden) right side.

In any case, whatever mysteries are hinted at in Giampietrino's paintings, one suspects they're a bit more complex and sophisticated than the "heresy" Dan Brown had in mind. Truthfully, the possible intimacy between Christ and Mary Magdalene never struck me as unusual, let alone an earth-shattering revelation. (Well, apart from my feeling that Christ was never a particularly sexual entity). As for Leonardo - who was allegedly homosexual - it seems more than likely he was painting pretty Johns for his own personal satisfaction (or with an entirely different subversive & taboo Christian narrative in mind) as opposed to encrypting his work with symbols involving the bloodline of an ancient Frankish dynasty.

Anyway, in terms of subversive interpretations of "The Last Supper", inset left is a detail that makes Leonardo's version appear fairly tame. In this one we have a far more demonstrative John the Apostle, who, in keeping with tradition, is also rather pretty. Is this John a woman? No, not exactly. Moreover, there's a weird juxtaposition between John's head and that large platter that brings to mind a different John -  the beheaded John the Baptist!

(Note: Just exactly what dead animal fills that platter?)

The artist was one Valentin de Boulogne 1591-1632, and he was the French connection I hinted about in a previous post. He was both an important follower of Caravaggio and a member of the enigmatic Baroque Dutch group, the Bentvueghels (see this post). He also had a passion for the golden spiral. What's more, he seems to have carried on the "John" tradition as well... a tradition that did not start nor stop with Leonardo da Vinci.

But, what was the "John" tradition? Ah, now that might be the operative question!

As it stands, there are three important Johns to contend with: John the Apostle, (who seems to be interchangeable with...) John the Evangelist, and, lastly, John the Baptist. Interestingly, both the Knights Templar and the Freemasons venerated the latter two Johns, but in terms of artistic portrayals, once examined, this trinity of Johns suspiciously begin to look like one figure... as does their relationship to Christ. Here is another offering by Giampietrino featuring an infant Christ embracing an infant John the Baptist.

Now, Valentin de Boulogne is an important painter in this series and will be attended to in a subsequent post, but, for now, we might take a look at one of his paintings of John the Baptist (below).

John the Baptist, 1631, Valentin de Boulogne. Geometry: 2022, DS.

Valentin's John the Baptist (chronologically, his third)) kind of looks like the artist pasted Sandra Bullock's head onto a man's body... but, as this would've been impossible (Sandra Bullock would not be born for another 400 years or so) we can only imagine he had a vision of the future. That being said, it becomes immediately apparent that Valentin de Boulogne learned more than a few light & shadow tricks from his mentor, Caravaggio, and this GTS is an example; Le Valentin was very precise with his spirals...

John the Baptist (Youth with a Ram), 1602, Caravaggio. Geometry: 2022, DS.

...but not quite as outrageous as Caravaggio! Above is the maestro's (amazing) mad John; note that the traditional lamb accompanying the Baptist has become a ram... and note the cunning termination of the first spiral! Basically, one general give-away when searching for golden spirals in images involving the human form is a flamboyantly exaggerated position like this one.

(Note: You probably have noticed that I've had to extend some paintings a fraction - using grey or black borders - to accommodate the spirals. I no longer feel I have to justify this because, apparently, it's common knowledge that artists living around the time of the 16th century cropped images extensively. Now, why would they do this? Who can say? Very often the way the images have been cropped is very poor. Perhaps the artists were trying to cover their golden tracks!)

Moving along, below are 2 versions of John the Baptist by Giampietrino. The first (left) looks suspiciously like portrayals of the fair Apostle John. The second is similar to Leonardo's Baptist... but prettier and more demure.

However, don't think for a moment that Giampietrino neglected his "John" spiral (see below). In fact, it looks as if he doubled it (although I now notice my alignment was not perfect). This brings to our attention one anomalous detail that goes against the grain of other portrayals of John the Baptist. That is, this John is not pointing heavenward. He seems to be (languidly) indicating the opposite direction... or perhaps he's pointing to the spiral!

John the Baptist, 16th century, Giampietrino. Geometry: 2022, DS.

I have one more (potential) John spiral for you, but this one is on a painting of John the Evangelist (see below) by the Italian Renaissance artist, Piero di Cosimo  (2 January 1462 – 12 April 1522).  The symbols he utilized, however, traditionally belong to John the Apostle... and, as for the figure of John, well...

 

John the Evangelist, 1504, Piero di Cosimo. Geometry: 2022, DS.

 ...his lovely face is more reminiscent of interpretations of the Baptist.  The serpent in the chalice, on the other hand, is a symbol generally attributed to John the Apostle and a biblical tale involving he and a poisoned cup.

But, intriguingly, the serpent-in-the-chalice symbol is also very much like a symbol found in portrayals of the alchemical Rebis, that is, the androgyny or hermaphrodite, which, along with the green lion and a number of other symbols signifies the Philosopher's Stone and the finished Great Work. Although the number of serpents in the goblet is generally three, a single serpent often appears in the Rebis's other hand. Often the single serpent bites its tail (the Ouroborus) but sometimes it's coiled up like a snail-shell.

Of course, the interesting thing about snails is that most land species are hermaphrodites! When mating, they can be either  male or female... so snail sex is never a gender issue! And, this might be of special interest to us... lest we forget, for some artists, use of the golden ratio was alluded to by the addition of a snail in the image.

Regarding the image inset left - from an Italian alchemical treatise - the following quote is from its source page: "Here, the complete and undivided unity of winged Hermaphrodite is represented by a single crown and unified body. Hermaphrodite stands on two mounds above the mercurial dragon, and holds a single coiled snake representing unity born of the triad in his/her right hand and a chalice with three serpents representing the three realms of nature with his/her left.

Because these symbols were generally used by alchemical writers and because there is no surviving text, it is unclear which text these miniatures illustrated, although it has been suggested that they once belonged to a copy of the Rosarium philosophorum..."

And, so, we come to the end of this post... without having concluded much of anything. When it comes to esoteric subjects, this is most often the case... in spite of sensationalized fictional attempts at the "big reveal."  But, sub rosa seems to stubbornly remain sub rosa despite all claims to the contrary. That's the beauty of it. 

A composite of three classical statues: the androgynous god, Hermaphroditus,
flanked by his parents, Aphrodite/Venus (left) and Hermes/Mercury (right).
Hermaphroditus - in the context of this image - represents the restoration (unity) of gender symmetry,
opposites reconciled... or a syzygy... specifically in a hermetic sense
(i.e., in the mind & the realm of the psyche).

“It is a psychological fact that as soon as we touch on these identifications we enter the realm of the syzygies, the paired opposites, where the One is never separated from the Other, its antithesis. It is a field of personal experience which leads directly to the experience of individuation, the attainment of the self. A vast number of symbols for this process could be mustered from the medieval literature of the West and even more from the storehouses of Oriental wisdom, but in this matter words and ideas count for little. Indeed, they may become dangerous bypaths and false trails. In this still very obscure field of psychological experience, where we are in direct contact, so to speak, with the archetype, its psychic power is felt in full force. This realm is so entirely one of immediate experience that it cannot be captured by any formula, but can only be hinted at to one who already knows.”

- A quote from Carl Jung found here.

______________________________________________________

* That being said, here's mention of an unconventional interpretation of the Christ figure: Carl Jung on the Androgyny of Christ.

For your listening pleasure, Boy George from 1992 with The Crying Game soundtrack. (Great movie!)

Originally at the beginning of the post:

(Note to my readers: I sincerely hope you're enjoying these spirals as much as I am. I just wanted to let you know that I am not deliberately teasing you with images and then stalling with the text. The reality is, while I seem to have gotten quite good at finding spirals, I seem to be a little less sure of my ability to put a string of words together. Then again, I am so enamored with the spirals that I can't wait to put them up! And this one is no exception! It's as if an image is a kind of door... but we can't always engage with it or the artist. In other words, we can't open that door. To locate a golden spiral, however, - that is, if one exists - is like finding a key that somehow let's you "in," and allows you to communicate with the artist.)