Author’s pride
This is a very rare example of “author’s pride” at the age of the Romanesque (so, roughly, between 1000 and 1200): a signed capital. One has to understand that, at that time, religion permeated every practical aspect of daily life; thus, people who worked on the erection and decoration of religious buildings were utterly convinced that they worked for and under the watchful eye, of God. Therefore, they were very strongly incited to abide by Christian standards and, say, avoid sinning inasmuch as possible.
Pride being a capital sin, this may explain why the vast majority of the works of art created during that period were not signed. In most cases, we have no clue who designed those magnificent churches or those stunning sculptures. This historied capital is an exception, as it is indeed “signed”.
The small town of Chauvigny in central-southwestern France had a chapter of 10 canons right after Year 1000 (most likely secular canons, as there is no evidence nearby of any cloister or other communal building), but the collegiate church that we see today was not built until the early 1100s. It is dedicated to Saint Peter. Damaged during the Wars of Religion, it was listed as a Historic Landmark as early as 1846 and undertook several campaigns of restoration during the 19th century.
During one of those, in 1856, they thought it would be great to re-paint the inside of the church “just like it must have looked in the Middle Ages”, which is why we have to suffer here too, like in Civaux and unfortunately like many other churches I visited in the old province of Poitou, the gory and cheesy colors and the fake apparel that disfigure the walls, the columns and the capitals.
The decorative program on the capitals includes scenes from the life of Jesus, as well as wild creatures and assorted monsters. This capital here shows Jesus being presented by Mary to the Three Wise Men. However, the reason why it is famous among Mediævalists is because the sculptor has signed his name:
Gofridus me fecit, i.e., “Gofridus made me”.
As is almost always the case, and this is one of the great mysteries of the Middle Ages which I already had the occasion to discuss in specialized fora, this Gofridus is not to be found anywhere else on the face of the Earth: he came out of the great big nothingness, having worked nowhere before he was hired to decorate Chauvigny (where did he get his obvious prior experience? no one knows), and after he produced that masterpiece, he dissolved back into the said nothingness and worked nowhere else, even though he now had a major claim to fame and could go on making a very good living as a sculptor in other churches or cloisters that were being built all over France and the rest of Western Europe in the 1100s...
Notice also the hand of God giving the benediction in the upper right hand corner.
Nikon Z7 II, Micro-Nikkor 85mm, ƒ/2.8 PC-E tilt-shift lens, FTZ II adapter, manual focus. Gitzo tripod, Benro geared head. Natural light.
, but also to caption their work. This was important because sculpture in general, and capitals in particular, were used to educate the unlearned masses through showing them images. The capital below thus contains a caption that reads Gabriel Archangelus dixit Gloria in excelsis Deo, i.e. “Archangel Gabriel chants Gloria in excelsis Deo”. The canons or the priests could read that caption, so that they would not be mistaken in explaining the image to the parishioners. We are also very lucky that this caption does not contain the sort of abbreviations they were so fond of in the Middle Ages, and which make some writings almost undecipherable!