Queeste. Tijdschrift over middeleeuwse letterkunde in de Nederlanden. Jaargang 2007

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Between Decency and Desire
Verbal and Visual Discourses on Dress and Nudity in the Antwerp Entry of 1549
Stijn Bussels^*

For Caroline van Eek, a true and devoted guide

In 1548, Prince Philip (II) went on a great tour to be legitimised as ruler in the territories then under direct and indirect Habsburg command. He visited many cities in northern Italy and throughout the Holy Roman Empire, taking the Netherlands as final destination. After meeting his father Charles V in Brussels, he visited Louvain to take the oaths of the Blijde Inkomst or Joyous Entry hereby swearing to respect the privileges of Brabant.¹ In exchange, the chancellor of Brabant and the municipality of Louvain affirmed their fidelity to Charles' future successor, explicitly by taking the oaths, implicitly by all the glitter and glamour that was displayed. A similar political ritual was repeated in many cities in Brabant and the rest of the Netherlands. The travel account of the Spanish nobleman and humanist, Calvete de Estrella, who accompanied Philip on his tour, makes clear that the Antwerp entry of September 10^th, 1549 was by far the most impressive of the triumphal entries in honour of the Habsburg prince.² Of all the entries in this tour, it is the Antwerp entry which Calvete de Estrella describes most at length and with greatest enthusiasm.

This nobleman's account of the magnitude of the Antwerp entry is not the only testament to the fact that all eyes were turned in full admiration towards the city. The foreign trade nations in Antwerp, realising the exceptional attention that would be paid to the city, spent a small fortune on their triumphal arches. The municipality joined in this spirit, spending twice as much on the entry as was spent in building the Antwerp town hall in 1565. Furthermore, it even reserved a great sum to make sure that the entry would be memorialized.³ The municipality did not only patronize Calvete de Estrella, but also the Antwerp town clerk and humanist, Cornelius Grapheus. Grapheus' ‘official’ report of the event was published in three languages, Latin, French and Dutch, and illustrated by the Renaissance artist Pieter Coecke van Aelst.⁴

The two accounts have served to keep the glamorous Antwerp display in remembrance. Even today the entry is discussed, often in circles relating to politic-icono-

* I explicitly want to thank Remco Sleiderink for his thorough comments on an early draft of this article.

1 Vranckx 1958, 153. As precursors of public law, these oaths prescribed (amongst other things) that the territories were inseparable, that the subjects had the right to participate in government and had a say in the matters of war and international treatises.

2 Calvete de Estrella 1552.

3 Soly 1984, 352.

4 There are few differences among them. I will use the Dutch version.

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graphical and art historical studies.⁵ It is mostly the renegotiation of power between municipality and Habsburgers and the early expression of High Renaissance art in the Netherlands that are given attention. In this article, however, I would like to take a cultural-historical approach in dealing with the entry. More specifically, I shall concentrate on the verbal and visual discourses on costume and nudity which this entry exposes. A public spectacle as important as the Antwerp entry can hardly give us a direct understanding of the customary rules or habits of bodily display and dress of the time. The entry is nevertheless interesting, as it provides a situation wherein costume and nudity is embedded in an exceptionally rich and pregnant social context. This point of focus can be associated with recent studies in the early modern period that no longer merely concentrate on images and texts to derive historical changes of the outward appearances, but try to place the way of dressing and undressing in a social context.⁶ Inspired by these studies, I will concentrate on the dress code of the actors on scene and of the painted and sculpted figures in the triumphal arches and discuss these outward appearances as means of the organisers to refashion civic society.

In order to try to illustrate the purport of costume and nudity as it pertains to the Antwerp entry of 1549, I will concentrate on two main issues. Firstly, I will

Ill. 1. A Spanish Merchand. De Bruyn 1875, plate X, figure 3.

Ill. 2. Nobility of the Netherlands. De Bruyn 1875, plate I.

Ill. 3. Antwerp Citizens. De Bruyn 1875, plate II.

examine the similarities and differences in displaying the male versus the female body. Specific gender constructions are related to this point of focus. I will try to make clear

5 See for more extensive and recent studies on the Antwerp entry of 1549: Eisler 1990, Kuyper 1994, Meadow 1999, and Bussels 2005.

6 See among others Perniola 1989, Schnitzler 1992, Breward 1995, Persels 1997, Blockmans & Janse 1999, Le Goff & Truong 2003, and Jahan 2004.

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Ill. 4. Philip Accompanied by Julius Ascanius and Servius Tullius, in: Cornelius Grapheus, Spectaculorum in Susceptione Phillipi Hisp. Divi Caroli. V. Caes. F. An. M.D.XLIX. Antverpiae Aeditorum, Mirificus Apparatus, Antwerp, 1550, f. K5 recto.

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that the actresses on the tableaux vivants were evaluated for their beauty. Some parts of their bodies could be revealed to make a fine impression, parts of the body that in everyday public situations were covered. Conversely, actors were fully dressed to show their self-control and strength.

A second issue to be looked at relates to the particular media through which the details of the festivities are passed down. The subtitle of this article already indicates that both verbal and visual discourses will be discussed. In doing so, it is the account of Grapheus which will be used. It is a particularly prodigious source to rely on, given the fact that it combines written text with illustrations. By combining text and image, I will try to make clear that early modern costume was a means to express social status and descent. Further on, concerning the bodily revealing and covering, many differences between text and image can be found. Throughout this article, it will paradoxically turn out that some nudity is depicted, but not described, but also that other nudity is described, but not depicted. In order to try to formulate an explanation for this paradox, the complex rules of decorum will be discussed. Some nudity is not described, as then it would become far too stressed. However, other forms of nudity are explicitly described as a means to place the Antwerp entry in the fashionable predilection for Greco-Roman art.

Costumes Indicate Social Status and Descent

I will begin this analysis by focusing on the clothed body in order to gradually strip it of its garments. Grapheus' account provides us with profuse details on what each particular group in the parade was wearing. The outfits of the representatives of the city and those of the internationals traders, grouped per region and referred to as the so-called ‘foreign trade nations’, are described from headgear to socks. Coordinated colour combinations, special horses and traditional dress commonly make visual the coherence of a particular group and serve to emphasize its unique identity as distinct from other groups. This event was no exception to this rule. The use of a strongly visual semiotic system relating to dress became even more explicit thirty years later when Abraham De Bruyn meticulously inventoried traditional costumes. His Habitus Variarum Gentium (1581) explains by way of short texts and large illustrations how the inhabitants of certain regions could be recognized by their costumes (Ill. 1).⁷ De Bruyn also carefully points out differences in social rank and explains the striking differences in dress which could be noted between the nobility, clergy, citizens and farmers (Ill. 2 and 3).⁸ Onlookers at the time would have noted similar striking differences between Charles, Philip and their retinue, and the other groups in the parade. While Grapheus mentions the fact that the Habsburgers were placed at the end of the pa-

7 De Bruyn 1875. We can also refer to a similar book of traditional dresses by Lucas d'Heere. It is a unique manuscript that is preserved in the library of the University of Ghent, Hs. 2466. See Conrads 2006. For a more comprehensive evolution of the ‘eloquence of costumes’, see Jahan 2004.

8 Cf. Breward 1995, 52-62.

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rade to emphasize their rank and distinction, he does not, surprisingly enough, describe their appearance. It is rather curious that the same reporter who took such great pains to meticulously describe the appearance of the citizens and foreign traders in attendance, does not bother to include details about the most important group present. The reason may lie in the fact that it would have been too difficult and ambitious an undertaking to describe in detail the many different colored and intricately detailed costumes of all the various noblemen.⁹

The descriptions and illustrations of the actors in the tableaux vivants give us some idea as to the Habsburgers' appearance. We cannot know for certain whether only actors were staged for the various tableaux, or whether statues were also used, as it was often hard to distinguish between the two.¹⁰ We do, however, know that most of the figures in the tableaux were actors, as the chief organiser Grapheus explicitly mentions that 137 burghers performed on that occasion.¹¹ In the tableau on the Coepoortstrate, Philip was represented in long knee socks, a pair of knickerbockers, a wide shirt with puffed sleeves and a train (Ill. 4).¹² This type of costume can also be seen in De Bruyns' book of costumes and will be discussed presently (Ill. 2). The costumes of the two princes represented alongside Philip in this tableau indicate that in the mid-sixteenth century dress not only entailed great variations relating to region and social class, but also relating to period.¹³ The two Roman princes next to Philip, Julius Ascanius and Servius Tullius, who were many centuries before expected to boast futures as bright as Philip's, were no longer represented in typical contemporary costume, but were instead clothed in imitation of the styles found in antique coins, statues and literary descriptions. In his Institutio oratoria, Quintilian gives a strikingly thorough description of the way a Roman orator was supposed to wear his tunica. In the sixteenth century, Quintilian's book was a source commonly relied upon for the representation of antique heroes. The belt had to be put on in such a manner that ‘the hem of the tunica on the front [was] just under the knees and on the rear till the kneeholes’.¹⁴ This prescript is strictly followed in the representation of the Roman princes in Antwerp.

9 A second explanation can be found in the primary sources of the preparations of the Antwerp entry. In the Antwerp city archive, three identical copies are preserved as Pk. n. 1627 and contain strict prescripts of the dress code for the parade. Every group is given exhaustive orders, except the Habsburgers. Maybe, Grapheus relied on these written prescripts for his detailed account and did not remember the exact dresses of the Habsburgers and their suite that were not taken into consideration in the civic dress code. Next to Pk. n. 1627, there are also prescripts for the costumes in a civic ordinance of August 17th, 1549 (Pk. n. 915, f. 100 recto) and a document is preserved that says that Anthonio de Palermo is paid for the models he designed for the battle array that followed the parade (Antwerp city archive T.n. 57, f. XIX July 19, 1549).

10 With the statue of Druon Antigon, for example, the organisers wanted to give the illusion of a living giant at the Grand Place. His head was flexible and bowed when the prince went by. Moreover, it is plausible that an actor was standing inside the body of the giant and that he spoke to Philip. Cf. Freedberg 1989, chapter 15 and Pleij 2003, 39.

11 Grapheus 1550, f. Oiii recto.

12 Cf. Breward 1995, 44-52.

13 In his De civilitate morum libellus, Erasmus writes: ‘And yet, no fixed rule can be laid down on this matter, because everyone does not have the same fortune or rank and standards of what is becoming and what is not differ among nations. Finally, what pleases or displeases varies from age to age’. Erasmus 1985, 278. Quanquam hic certus praescribi modus non potest, eo quod non omnium par est vel fortuna, vel dignitas; nec apud omnes nationes eadem decora sunt aut indecora; postremo nec omnibus seculis eadem placent displicentue. Erasmus 1540, I, 865.

14 (...) ut tunica prioribus oris infra genua paulum, posterioribus ad medios poplites usque perveniant (XI.3.138).

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Depicted Allegories Show Their Breasts

In the same tableau illustration, we find allegories of the continents of Africa, Asia and Europe, represented as women, seated at the feet of Philip and the two Romans. These women are also attired in Roman tunicas. In this case, however, this article of clothing reaches beneath the knees. This fits with Quintilian's prescripts as well, for in them he clearly dictates that the female garment has to hang lower than that of the male (XI.3.138). Looking at the illustration in Grapheus' account, however, we can see that Quintilian's prescript is not followed entirely. Remarkably the picture clearly shows that the upper bodies of at least two of the three women are naked, revealing their breasts. (In the case of the woman on the right, it is hard to tell whether or not a veil is covering her upper body.) If we compare the half-clothed body of these allegories with other illustrations of Antwerp tableaux vivants, these prove to be no exception at all with respect to the nudity shown. In the first tableau vivant that was shown in the entry and in which we find Antverpia publicly resigning herself to Philip, the allegories of loyalty and gratitude at the front of the scene on the left are also illustrated revealing breasts (Ill. 5).

There are obvious differences between the costumes of the actresses depicted in the tableaux illustrations of 1549 and those found in depictions of contemporary civic women. If we look at the picture of the merchant's wife in De Bruyn's costume book, it is quite

Ill. 5. Antverpia resigns herself to Philip (Detail), in: Grapheus 1550, f. E4 verso.

Ill. 6. Commerce is represented by Negociatio and the Trade Nations (Detail), in: Grapheus 1550, f. H2 recto.

clear that this woman — no longer a depiction of an allegory, but of a real person — was very differently dressed. We immediately see that her hair and contours are meticulously covered (Ill. 3). In the illustrations of the tableau vivant on the Huydevettersstrate,

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Ill. 7. Cranach the Elder; Lucretia, Staatliche Museen zu Berlin, Gemaldegalerie, 1533.

we also find a merchant's wife on the far left of the scene. Grapheus describes her as being the allegory of Coopmanscap, in gelijckenisse van eender coopvrouwen or ‘Trade, in resemblance of a merchant's wife’.¹⁵ However, the resemblance between the allegory and the average woman found on the Antwerp streets was not true to life, as the former is shown revealing at least one breast explicitly. (Due to the vagueness of the illustration we cannot say for certain whether what we see is another breast or whether these are just the contours revealed through a veil.) In comparison with De Bruyn's book the depicted allegories of the foreign trade nations in the middle of the scene correspond somewhat more with the realities of female dress habits of the day. For the breasts are not exposed. Nevertheless, they are more explicitly indicated than in the costume book; in the illustration found in Grapheus' account, the contours are quite pronounced.

The written description which accompanied the illustrations, does not place any emphasis on these half-nudes or their exposed parts. Grapheus describes the actresses as being clothed in (mostly white silk) dresses.¹⁶ For example in his account of the tableau of the three continents seated under Philip and the two Roman princes, he does not mention their half-clothed state at all. His emphasis is on the differences found between the three, as we already saw in the case of De Bruyn. Grapheus writes: Sij waren in gelijckenissen van vrouwen, elck na sijns lands aert gecleedt. Asia, was bruyn van verwen, op Turcksche wijse gecleedt. Africa, swertachtich van aensichte, gecleedt na de Egypsce manniere. Europa, wit van aensichte, gecleedt na de gemeyne Kerstenen costuyme.¹⁷ In the illustration by Coecke van Aelst, conversely, it is hard to determine which actress represents which continent (Ill. 4). Only the headgear worn by the woman in the middle, and the veil of the woman on the right, provide some clue as to their identities.

Can we link the absence of a verbal description of nudity in Grapheus' account with an understood rule of decorum in mid-sixteenth-century Antwerp prescribing that words were not allowed to make as explicit a reference to bodily display as pictures? The rest of this article will be concerned with trying to find an answer to this question. To this end, I will concentrate on the visual and verbal accounts of the appearance of the actors of the tableaux vivants. Thereafter the sculptures and paintings

15 Grapheus 1550, f. Gii verso-Giii verso.

16 Only when he writes about the tableau vivant that represents the Golden Age, there are men, women, boys and girls described as being naked or half-naked. This reference can possibly be ascribed to the specific representation of a time of peace and innocence. Grapheus 1550, f. I verso.

17 ‘They bore resemblances to women, each dressed after the character of her land. Asia was painted brown dressed in Turkish manner. Africa, black face, dressed in Egyptian manner. Europe, white face, dressed after the common Christian custom’. Grapheus 1550, f. Iv verso.

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on the triumphal arches and around the tableaux will be looked at. I will primarily concentrate on the possible meaning the depiction of half-clothed women could have had in mid-sixteenth-century literature and visual art.

The Half-Naked Female Body in a Broader Context

In Erasinus' De civilitate morum libellus or On Good Manners for Children (1530), clothing rules make clear that the body had to be covered.¹⁸ The humanist criticises all debauched and profligate clothing and condemns rigorously all transparent materials ‘since the second function of clothing is to cover what gives offence to men's sight’.¹⁹ The social sensibilities of the time wherein these prescripts were put forward may have had a strong influence on the organisers of the Antwerp entry. An analogous susceptibility is evident in other performances of the time. Rhetorician specialist Dirk Coigneau writes:

In the play Eneas and Dido performed in 1551 or ‘52 by the Goudbloem, an Antwerp chamber of rhetoric, one can see the beginning of a long and slow process, a process wherein the corporal burdens and lusts are increasingly seen as a danger for social and cultural ambitions and achievements because of their naked levelling power and they are thus increasingly kept behind the scenes, not only of the theatre, but of social life as a whole.²⁰

Undoubtedly, the theatre of the rhetoricians will have been closely linked to contemporary life. Nevertheless, certainly for our case, we have to be attentive to the dangers of generalising the belief in a predominant set of rules that prohibited every reference to sexuality.²¹ To illustrate this, we can refer to Renaissance painting where the half-clothed or in this context we better say half-naked, female body was often represented. In his ‘Between Clothing and Nudity’, the Italian art historian Mario Perniola links the strong awareness of the erotic nature of the female body with contemporary reticence with respect to representing nudity.²² He refers to various paradigmatic depictions of Lucretia

18 Cf. the first chapters in Elias 1939 (1969).

19 Erasmus 1985, 279. Quandoquidem hic est alter uestis usus, ut ea tegat quae impudice ostenduntur oculis hominum. Erasmus 1540, I, 865. A passage just before has a similar message: ‘To expose, save for natural reasons, the parts of the body which nature has invested with modesty ought to be far removed from the conduct of a gentleman. I will go further: when necessity compels such action, it should none the less be done with decency and modesty even if there is no observer present. For the angels, from whom derives that most welcome sense of shame that accompanies and protects the chastity of boys, are always near. Modesty requires such things to be hidden from sight, much less exposed to contact with somebody else’. Membra quibus natura pudorem addidit retegere citra necessitatem procul abesse debet ab indole liberali. Quin ubi necessitas huc cogit, tamen id quoque decente verecundia faciendum est, etiam si nemo testis adsit. Numquam enim non adsunt angeli, quibus in pueris gratissimus est pudicitiae comes custosque pudor. Quorum autem conspectum oculis subducere pudicum est, ea multo minus oportet alieno praebere contactui.

20 ‘In het in 1551 of’ 52 door de Antwerpse kamer De Goudbloem opgevoerde spel van Eneas en Dido kan men het begin zien van een lang en langzaam proces, een proces waarbij lichamelijke lasten en lusten vanwege hun naakte nivelleringskracht (...) steeds meer als een gevaar voor sociale en kulturele pretenties en prestaties werden ervaren en dan ook steeds meer achter de coulissen, niet slechts van het toneel, maar van het hele maatschappelijke leven werden gedrongen’. Coigneau 1984, 132.

21 Cf. Duerr 1988.

22 Perniola 1989, 7.

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Ill. 8. Agnolo Bronzino, Lodovico Capponi, ©The Frick Collection, New York, mid-sixteenth century.

which contain the combination of nudity, shame and titillation. Artists such as Albrecht Dürer, Hans Baldung Grien, Joos van Cleve, and Lucas Cranach the Elder painted the story of the Roman lady capturing all the principle elements. Time and again Lucretia reveals her breasts, in between which a knife is planted. That knife will soon do its deadly work, lead Lucretia to suicide, save her honour, increase the heat of revolution and dismiss the last and violent king of Rome whose son had raped her.

The increasing number of representations of this story in the mid-sixteenth century can be primarily ascribed to its moral. It can be interpreted as a comment on the ‘male gaze’.²³ The viewer is urged to reflect on the consequences of total submission to sensual lust. This moral is also evident in the Antwerp entry, as a painting on the triumphal arch of the Genoese trade nation represents, ‘old naked men, with long beards and ugly faces, [surrounding] a young half-naked beautiful lady, one violently grasping her by her hair, the other by her clothes, a third by her arms, a forth by her bosom’.²⁴ Sensual lust is explicidy judged in the subscript that runs as follows: Ghij en weet niet wat ghij begeert or ‘You do not know what you covet’. The surrounding paintings make clear that the lovely girl stands for all kinds of hidden temptations ranging from religious apostasy to blind desire.

Although the representations of Lucretia entail a similar discourse, there is at the same time a subtle game being played with this theme of sensual lust. Cranach's depiction of 1533 is a clear example of this (Ill. 7). Although we have to be careful not to empathize too much with the sixteenth-century onlooker, it is hard to imagine that this picture could have failed to produce an erotic sensation. The knife is not depicted as such a deadly instrument as it was in the antique heroic story. It is transformed into an ornamental object that goes well with the attractive necklace and the fine-looking haircut. The blade does not give the impression of being made of mortal steel, but seems rather fragile and crystalline. Moreover, the transparent veil decorates her body in such a manner that it does not conceal the body at all. In an elegant gesture,

23 Perniola 1989, 7.

24 (...) oude naecte mannen, met langen baerden, ende leelijcken gesichte, omringden een ionck halfnaect schoon vrouken, deen haer metten hare, dander met cleederen, de derde metten armen, de vierde met den boesem geweldichlijck grijpende. Grapheus 1550, f. Fiiii recto.

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the Roman woman even accentuates her genitals by placing the see-through veil over them without covering them up. It seems that Cranach's Lucretia is less concerned with her coming suicide, than with her sensuous appearance.

The actresses in the Antwerp tableaux vivants were more clothed and covered than Cranach's Lucretia. It is nevertheless likely that these actresses had to reveal their breasts in an attempt to titillate the senses too. In this context, it is understandable that the biblical personages, who were strongly present in previous entries, had to make way on the stage for classical figures. It was less wicked to represent half-naked erotic women as antique goddesses and allegories than as Biblical characters. Such a shift meant a significant decrease in the number of people able to accurately grasp the meaning of the personages being represented. The onlookers, who would not have had a humanistic education and therefore would not have understood what they were seeing, would only have remembered the sensual sensations provoked.

The organisers of the Antwerp festivities tried to carefully manage the delicate balance between the shameful and the erotic. The female body was concealed, for private parts were all covered, just as Erasmus had decreed in his book of prescripts. This meant that the actresses did not have to blush with shame on account of their nudity. These were local Antwerp girls and young women, after all, chosen by the organisers because of their good looks. The chief organiser and reporter Grapheus was happy with the actresses selected. He often describes them in a positive light, referring to one as ‘a fine little woman’, and another as ‘a fine young virgin’. Of course, Grapheus' enthousiasm can be related to the fact that the women titillate his senses. However, he also emphasizes the virtuousness of the women, referring to another one as ‘a fine and honest woman’. Here, a common place is used. The city is honoured for her beautiful, but nevertheless honourable women.

The actresses themselves did not have any choice when it came to participating in the event. A civic ordinance obliged them to take part and to remain on stage under punishment of a severe fine for themselves or their parents if they violated that in any way.²⁵ In order not to cause these women too much shock, their bodies were concealed. However, a certain game was played with respect to revealing the female body in this context of rising sensual eloquence. The organisers were well aware that too much nudity would lead to shame, but that some nudity could do no harm to the special occasion.²⁶

25 This fits with many other preserved ordinances that strictly tell the inhabitants of Antwerp who had to participate in what work. To make it possible that the large amount of work was done in the short time available, everyone had to know what to do precisely and could be held responsible if he/she did not show up or did not finish his assignment properly. Roobaert 1960, 40.

26 Cf. Pleij 2003, 39-40.

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The Male Body May Not Be Feminised

In contrast with the female representations, the male representations in the Antwerp tableaux were, according to the verbal and visual account, entirely clothed. This can be linked to Erasmus's De civilitate morum too: ‘It is boorish to go about with one's hair uncombed: it should be neat, but not as elaborate as a girl's coiffure’.²⁷ With due modesty, beauty could be aimed for by women, but men were to strive for dignity and authority. Paying too much attention to one's looks was for men just as bad as paying too little attention to them. Fittingly, the verbal and visual account make clear that the humanist organisers of the entry chose to represent Philip as a decently clothed youngster and not as a naked David or Adonis, although both were very popular figures in contemporary painting and sculpture. The prince had to radiate a sense of power and self-control, as can be seen in the tableau with Julius Ascanius and Servius Tullius, in which the three young men had to show that they had successful political futures in store (Ill. 4).

This, though, does not exclude Philip from having any sexual appeal. Let us look back at the particular manner of dress of the Habsburg prince. First, there was his traditional jerkin with puffed sleeves. This garment served to emphasize the ‘typically male’ force, for it was designed to accentuate and strengthen a man's muscular chest and upper arms.²⁸ Secondly, the prince wore a pair of knickerbockers. This garment also accentuated a man's muscular body, but what is more, it also accentuated his sexuality, as in the mid-sixteenth century the codpiece was given a prominent place in the trouser's design. By covering up the genitals so conspicuously, the codpiece placed the genitals at the centre of attention. This garment further supported and underscored the image of the powerful masculine prince. Functionally, the codpiece served as a piece of cloth which made it easier to go to the toilet. At the beginning of the sixteenth century, it became a protective garment used in the imperial army. Later on, it was used by noblemen to highlight their military experience and connection with the Habsburgers. Adopted at various courts and cities in the mid-sixteenth century, it became an evident symbol of male power.²⁹

Examples of the codpiece in Dutch, German and Italian paintings are legion. Artists such as Bruegel the Elder, Seisenegger and Pontormo used the codpiece to represent and visualize manly strength. A clear example is Bronzino's portrait of the young Lodovico Capponi of the mid-sixteenth century (Ill. 8). Just like Philip, the nobleman is portrayed wearing a jerkin and knickerbockers, but Lodovico's codpiece is more prominent than Philip's. There is also a striking difference in the form, as Lodovico has tied up his penis conspicuously. Moreover, the combination of black and white textile highlights the codpiece. The white cylinder protrudes through the black doublet

27 Erasmus 1985, 277. Rusticanum est impexo esse capite, adsit mundities, non nitor puellaris. Erasmus 1540, I, 864.

28 Breward 1995, 52-62.

29 In her paper ‘Codpieces and Manly Display’ presented at the annual meeting of the Renaissance Society of America in San Francisco in 2006, Carole Collier Frick made this historical evolution clear. She also emphasized Europe's first encounters with ‘primitive’ New World males, which led to an overt sartorial reaction on the part of European men that transformed the utilitarian codpiece into a masculine display.

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Ill. 9. Philip between Hope and Fear (Detail), in: Grapheus 1550, f. N2 recto.

and the doublet just splits, even seems to be pushed aside. This catching garment will have primarily highlighted the male power and virility of youngsters such as Philip and Lodovico. Although Philip's codpiece is repeatedly depicted in Coecke's illustrations, Grapheus never mentions it explicitly in his written account. However, the picture in which the codpiece is most clearly depicted, is the representation of the tableau where Philip's manly strength is explicitly expressed (Ill. 9).The prince is herein depicted as a forceful youngster able to hold his ground and remain standing between Hope and Fear who pull at his mantle. This male power is indicated and expressed in writing. Grapheus describes the representation very briefly, but explicitly mentions that the prince had a manlijck wesen or ‘manly countenance’.³⁰

Looking at Lodovico's and Philip's fine gestures and restrained expressions in the visual representations, however, it appears that an elegant sensuality is also visible. This same synthesis between manly strength and refinement can be found in Jeffery Persels' discussion of the codpiece in Rabelais' oeuvre. On the one hand, he connects this garment with humanist concepts of manliness: ‘[M]ore than mere association with a newly homocentric universe, Humanism could perhaps be viewed fruitfully as, for lack of a neutral term, “vir-centric” - a moral program represented in and through the male body. For Rabelais, chronicler of Humanism's intellectual victory and acute observer of the sociocultural moment, this new force of Humanism is forcefully represented in and through the codpiece’.³¹ On the other hand, the codpiece is also associated with sexual power. Therefore, Persels refers to a passage wherein Panurge drives an opponent in to a tight spot through sexual intimidation. This is done in a virtuous game using a codpiece and an orange. Rabelais writes: ‘Whereat Panurge pulled out his long codpiece with its silken lock and extended it a cubit and a half, and held it in the air with his left hand, and with his right took his orange, threw it in the air several times, and on the eighth hid it in his right fist, very quietly holding it up; then he began to shake his fine codpiece, showing it to Thaumaste’.³²

30 Onse Prince, den levenden over al gelijcke, staende met een manlijck wesen op eenen viercantigen steen, van drije voeten hooge, wordt ten beyden sijden met sinen mantel herwarts ende derwaerts getrocken. Grapheus 1550, f. Miii recto.

31 Persels 1997, 99.

32 A quoy Panurge tira sa longue braguette avecques son floc, et l'estendit d'une couldée et demie, et la tenoit en l'air de la main gouche, et de la dextre print sa pomme d'orange, et, la gettant en l'air par sept foys, à la huytiesme la cacha au poing de la dextre, la tenant en hault tout coy; et puis commença à secouer sa belle braguette, la monstrant `a Thaumaste. Persels 1997, 80.

[p. 71]

Ill. 10. The Triumphal Arch of the Genoese, in: Grapheus 1550, f. N2 recto.

[p. 72]

The Naked Body in Image and Text

Although we encounter many differences in the verbal and visual accounts of these tableaux, both accounts correspond in that they testify that onlookers never saw the actors and actresses totally naked. Conversely, more nakedness can be found on the triumphal arches or in the ornamental frames of the tableaux vivants. Looking back at Coecke's illustration of the tableau of Philip, Ascanius and Tullius, we find on top a decoration depicting two naked women holding grotesque fruit garlands (Ill. 4). Due to their legs being crossed, no pubic hair or private parts are revealed. The representation of grotesque men found at the bottom of the arch complies with this same approach in concealing the private areas. More background is required before we can link this with any possible pudency. Unfortunately, Grapheus's account only describes the stage and not the ornamentation surrounding it, but we can examine the triumphal arches in order to see if the verbal and visual discourse on nudity correspond.

We can thus concentrate for example on the arch of the Genoese, as the front façade is described and depicted in the official account (Ill. 10). On the central panel Charles is represented in antique armour and has bloote armen, bloote beenen or ‘bare arms, bare legs’. The antique gods and allegories next to him are described as allesom naect, som half nact na Dantijcke or ‘naked or half-naked after the Antique’.³³ However, in Coecke's picture only Neptune is shown (half-)naked, the other gods are as fully clothed as Charles. On the left panel, the allegory of the ‘Dying Man’ is shown alongside the Fates, and described as een out man, geheel naect or ‘an old man, completely naked’. As the panels are part of a larger picture, it is hard to see if Neptune and the allegory are depicted as half-naked or stark naked. However in the illustration, their pose can be discerned and makes clear that the private parts are concealed just as in the previously mentioned tableau vivant.

On the triumphal arch of the Spanish trade nation (half-)nakedness is more clearly discernible (Ill. 11). There, a round temple of Janus stands in the centre of attention. On the left, the Roman emperor Augustus closes a door in accordance with tradition, indicating a time of peace. On the right, Charles and Philip are found doing the same. What is interesting for our study, are the two larger than life-sized colossi under the temple. If we look closely at the picture, we notice that, once again, the private parts are covered, this time with a small veil. All these examples of half-nakedness seem to confirm the previously stated conclusion that the organisers took special care not to shock the public too much. Or is the knot in the loincloth just in front of the genitals of the colossus on the right an accentuation of the male sex just as the codpiece was?

Whatever the case may be, in his account, Grapheus describes the colossi as being entirely naked: ‘In the partitions on both sides of the middle passage, there were very large statues carved out of a wooden block about sixteen feet high. They were so artfully painted (without the use of copper or any other material) that they seemed to

33 Grapheus 1550, f. Fii verso.

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Ill. 11. The Triumphal Arch of the Spanish Trade Nation (Detail), in: Grapheus 1550, f. F2 verso - F3 recto.

be cast of copper only. Both were naked as in antique manner’.³⁴ So once again, there are two distinct discourses on nudity, a verbal and a visual one. It is striking that now the illustrations are more reticent than the description. The written account states explicitly that certain figures are represented in full nudity. However, Grapheus does not write this with complete liberty. He stays within the realm of the acceptable by referring to important antecedents, the classical arts.

By contextualizing nudity with reference to Greece and Rome, it is no longer presented in the lewd atmosphere of the sexual passions, but is instead transformed into an aesthetical appreciation of the Renaissance arts which tried to imitate and emulate their antique predecessors.³⁵ This legitimisation of nudity in the arts was set against the conviction that the plain representation of nakedness was shameful and improper. The predominance of this last idea might be the reason why the colossi were still provided with a small loincloth. It was not only during public spectacles, but also in private painting and sculpture, that this tension between the shameful and aesthetic was discernable. Robert Schnitzler writes in his ‘Tugendhafte Köper’ that ‘naked bodies did not only cause shame or spur on to contemplative reflections. They were also read as a proportioned, physiognomically relevant and anatomical-didactical script of images’.³⁶

This evaluation of the body based on correct proportions and anatomical precision can also be found in the account of a firework display at the end of the Antwerp festivities for Charles and Philip. For this nightly spectacle, two figures were displayed at the Grand Place. They represented Adam and Eve standing before the famous tree with the forbidden fruit and the terrifying serpent. Unfortunately there are no illustrations, so we cannot compare the verbal and visual representations, but Grapheus states that the two figures were completely naked. This nudity is once again defended within an esthetical frame of analysis. Grapheus shows appreciation for these statues

34 In elcke facie ten beyden zijden des middelsten duerganacx stonden seer grote statuen, oft beelden, wt groote houten blocken gesneden, hooge sonder de Pedestallen, ontrent .xvi. voeten, so constelijck (sonder eenick coper oft ander diergelijcke manterie daer ane gebesicht) van verwen gedreven, datse van enckelen copere schenen gegoten te wesene, Sij waren beyde op Dantijcke maniere naect. Grapheus 1550, f. Eiii verso.

35 Cf. Perniola 1989, II, 237-243.

36 ‘Nackte Köper verursachten daher nicht nur Schamgefühl oder spornten zu kontemplativen Höchstleistungen an: sie wurden als proportionierte, physiognomisch bedeutsame und anatomisch lehrhafte Bilderschrift gelesen’. Schnitzler 1992, 351.

[p. 74]

stating that they are konstelijck gemaect or ‘artfully made’.³⁷ In this way, the biblical story of Creation provided a good opportunity for representing the human body in its full nudity. In his De civitate Dei, the church father Augustine describes the Garden of Eden before the Fall. It was a place where Man lived without sin. The body was not yet ruined by carnal destruction and therefore it could not sense any improper sensations. Appropriate nakedness fit this paradisiacal situation: ‘No damage of his body or coming from his body caused any inconvenience to any of his senses. Externally there were no illnesses, thrusts or punches. He enjoyed an extreme health in his flesh and a total peace in his mind’.³⁸ Besides the representations of gods and allegories, the Garden of Eden was another fine chance for Renaissance artists to portray a man and woman in full nudity with a certain degree of impunity, the paradisaical setting serving as the perfect alibi for this display.

But there was nevertheless severe critique of these artistic practices too. The shame evoked by nudity clashed radically with these contemporary idealisations.³⁹ Erasmus wrote that certain artists were misusing biblical themes and stories as pretexts for representing improper naked bodies which were responsible for triggering inappropriate sexual feelings.⁴⁰ From this point of view, the naked statues of Adam and Eve would have caused severe agitation. Moreover, after the Fall the relation between body and soul was believed to have been corrupted. According to Augustine, Man had to cope from that moment on with bestialum motum in membris suae carnis that was assessed by the heavenly soul as shameful and dishonourable.⁴¹ With this belief as starting point, a strong opposition against the (re)presentation of all nudity was fueled. It is perhaps this opposition which resounds in the words of Grapheus when he describes the explosions from the fireworks display. For he writes that Eve, Adam, the tree and the snake went up in an inferno of flames.⁴² The fireworks display is responded to as though it had been a real devastating fire. If this had been the case, their nudity would certainly have been severely punished.

Perhaps this opposition can be held responsible for the fact that the stark naked body could only be described in words and not represented in the illustrations, with the private parts covered by limbs, blocks of stone and veils. It was not deemed as a problem to write that a figure was represented naked, when straight afterwards the argument of the emulation of the antiques legitimised this representation. Depicting full nudity was nevertheless still a problem. Certainly the male sex was not allowed to be revealed publicly: a far to explicit bodily display could not be approved. Paradoxically, the exposed breasts of the civic girls and young women put on the tableaux vivants were shown in the pictures, but not described in Grapheus' text. The same opposition against the in-

37 Grapheus 1550, f. Oii recto.

38 Nihil corruptionis in corpore uel ex corpore ullas molestias ullis eius sensibus ingerebat. Nullus intrinsecus morbus, nullus ictus metuebatur extrinsecus. Summa in came sanitas, in animo tota tranquillitas. Augastin 1955, 449.

39 Although shame and glorification of the naked body stood in sharp contrast with one another in the sixteenth century, this contrast was also present before, even in the representation of Eve and Adam. Le Goff & Truong 2003, 154.

40 Muller & Noël 1985, 129-159.

41 Cited in Schreiner 1992, 60.

42 Grapheus 1550, f. Oii recto-verso.

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decent bodily display can be given an explanation. It is plausible that the reporter will have felt shame to explicitly mention the breasts. In this case, it was no longer possible to take refuge behind old and respected traditions. Nevertheless, festivities were represented, so the rules of everyday life could be somewhat transgressed. By including the adjectives naect or half naect, the verbal account meticulously describes to what extent the paintings and sculptures revealed the bodies of the antique gods and allegories. The visual account explicitly presents the breasts of the actresses and reveals a rich bodily display in the paintings and sculptures along the entry route.

Samenvatting

Dit artikel focust op verbale en visuele discoursen over kledij en naaktheid in de Antwerpse intocht van Karel V en zijn zoon Filips in 1549. Enerzijds worden de verschillen onderzocht in het opvoeren van het mannen- en vrouwenlichaam. Hierbij valt op dat actrices de borsten onthulden om de zinnen in vervoering te brengen. De acteurs werden daarentegen volledig gekleed, veelal als teken van waardigheid en kracht. Anderzijds worden de verschillen onderzocht tussen de media die de intocht in de herinnering houden. Hiervoor wordt het verslag van de hoofdorganisator Grapheus vergeleken met de begeleidende prenten van Pieter Coecke van Aelst. Deze vergelijking maakt duidelijk dat het moeilijk was om naaktheid zonder meer te verwoorden, tenzij deze kon worden gelegitimeerd door een verwijzing naar de Grieks-Romeinse traditie. In zijn prenten kiest Coecke zorgvuldig in hoeverre het ontblote lichaam kan worden getoond. Borsten konden expliciet worden weergegeven om het feestelijke aspect van de gebeurtenis in de verf te zetten, maar het mannelijke geslacht werd zorgvuldig bedekt om het decorum zoveel mogelijk in acht te nemen.

Address of the author:

Universiteit Leiden

Johan Huizinga Gebouw

Doelensteeg 16

nl-2311 vl Leiden

[e-mail]

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