This post was written by Rex P. Nielson, BYU Humanities Center Director.
Few art restoration projects have commanded headlines like those that swirled after the second-phased unveiling of the Ghent Altarpiece in 2020. Following a nearly ten-year and multi-million-dollar process utilizing the advanced conservation techniques of the Royal Institute for Cultural Heritage (KIK-IRPA, Brussels), the restored magisterial polyptych located in Saint Bavo’s Cathedral shocked both specialized art historians and the general public. Also known as the Adoration of the Mystic Lamb, the work’s central panel features a lamb standing on an altar located in a heavenly garden, surrounded by angels, disciples, prophets, saints, and other faithful believers who face the lamb in worship and adoration. The painting’s theatrical composition and display of virtuosic artistic technique were already well-known to the art history community as the subject of countless academic studies, which had consecrated the work’s status as arguably one of the most important paintings of the Renaissance. The source, then, of such newfound public wonder? The lamb’s face.
Completed in 1432, the altarpiece began as an ambitious commissioned project initiated by Hubert van Eyck. Following his death in 1426, the painting was elaborated and finished by Hubert’s (now) more famous younger brother, Jan van Eyck. Since the fifteenth century, the altarpiece has enjoyed international attention and reverence for the way it fuses medieval, late Gothic, Byzantine, and southern European traditions. Featuring twelve distinct panels, the altarpiece encompasses faithful groups from various ranks of society, including knights, judges, pilgrims, and hermits, while also representing key figures who embody the central doctrines of the church, namely, Adam and Eve, Cain and Abel, the Virgin Mary, John the Baptist, God the Father, and of course the Holy Lamb. Taken together, the painting presents a catechism of the most sacred principles of Christianity.
The monumental work also happens to be one of the most stolen and well-traveled pieces of European art in history, having at one time fallen into the hands of Napoleon Bonaparte, the king of Prussia, common thieves, and soldiers during both WWI and WWII. The work was specifically targeted by Adolf Hitler and Hermann Göring who famously hid the painting, along with thousands of other stolen works, at the Altaussee salt mine in Austria before it was dramatically rescued by members of the Allied MFAA (Monuments Men) unit. After traveling across Europe, the altarpiece finally returned to Saint Bavo’s Cathedral in Belgium in October 1945.
Given the painting’s status in the history of art along with its almost unbelievable material history, it might seem unexpected that the work could hold secrets that would surprise even specialists who know it best, but the painting’s recent restoration did just that. The debut of the fully cleaned and restored Adoration of the Mystic Lamb elicited both amazement and disbelief within the art community. Conspicuously, it was the face of the lamb that startled viewers. In an interview with The Art Newspaper, Hélène Dubois, the conservator who led the painting restoration, called the face “cartoonish” and “a shock for everybody—for us, for the church, for all the scholars, for the international committee following this project.” Smithsonian Magazine opined that it was “alarmingly humanoid,” while the BBC called it “freakishly weird-looking.” Critics on social media were predictably less kind, using terms like “eerie,” “creepy,” “weird,” “a mistake,” and “nightmarish” to describe the face of the lamb. In short, the lamb’s face has emerged as nothing less than a revelation.
The painting’s restoration and public response are fascinating. Why has there been such widespread shock, derision, and even criticism? This is not, after all, a situation analogous to other famous examples of botched restorations undertaken by well-intentioned but nonetheless ill-trained enthusiasts that either required extensive re-restorations or tragically damaged the art forever (notable cases can be found in Spain, Colombia, Brazil, China, Turkey, Egypt, and Italy). Using the most advanced imaging, research, and restoration treatments available, the interdisciplinary team of KIK-IRPA scholars and conservators working on the Ghent Altarpiece have meticulously restored the painting to its original condition. (To provide just one detail, with the removal of five centuries of overpainting, these professionals found that around seventy percent of the entire painting had been covered by various layers of non-original paint and varnish. You can read more about the restoration process here.) In other words, the public outcry does not seem to be focused on a kind of damage or destruction of the painting but rather on the fact that the restoration has led us to see something we did not expect or perhaps even want to see.
During a period of more than five hundred years, the central figure of the Adoration of the Mystic Lamb was altered and, dare I say, domesticated. Comparison of the altered and restored images of the lamb show striking differences. At some point, probably in the mid-sixteenth century, the lamb’s face was changed significantly: the lamb’s head shape was modified, the positions of the lamb’s eyes and ears were moved, and the lamb’s gaze was softened. The restored face of the lamb, however, reveals a more human face with significant personality and a penetrating gaze—a look that engages and, at least in some cases, distresses the viewer. Koenraad Jonckheere, a professor of art history at the University of Ghent, notes that the overpainting most likely resulted from an effort to adapt the image of the lamb “to the taste of the time” (Smithsonian), and Katharine Wu writes that the effect of the sixteenth-century alteration was to “neutralize” the lamb’s image.
As both an amateur art historian and a flawed but striving believer, I find these comments arresting and laden with implication for any who might aspire to Christian discipleship and aesthetic engagement. How often do we too insist on domesticated or neutralized images of Christ? How quickly do we scorn both the forms and subject of religious expression that do not correspond to our comfortable, pre-conceived images of Christianity? I find myself asking to what extent am I willing to face an image of the Lamb that invites me to see my own relationship to God anew—however unexpected, uncomfortable, and unsettling that image may be. Is not this the true power of restoration, to contemplate God’s manifestation in our lives in ways we have either forgotten or could not anticipate? Yes, the van Eycks invite us to join in the adoration of the Lamb, to behold the mystery of God’s love, and to consider our own position before Him. For me, the beauty of the Ghent Altarpiece and its restoration ultimately lies in its capacity to help us face the Lamb and mediate our approach to the altar of God.
References
Cascone, Sarah. “So Bad They’re Brilliant? See the 17 Most Bizarre and Completely Outlandish Art Restoration Fails of All Time.” Artnet. 14 July 2019.
Güner, Fisun. “The Restoration that Shocked the World.” BBC. 3 February 2020.
Hickson, Sally. “Jan Van Eyck, The Ghent Altarpiece.” Smarthistory: The Center for Public Art History.
Jones, Jonathan. “Why laugh at the humanoid sheep in the Ghent altarpiece? It is majestic.” The Guardian. 22 January 2020.
McGivern, Hannah. “Ghent Altarpiece: latest phase of restoration unmasks the humanized face of the Lamb of God.” The Art Newspaper. 18 December 2019.
Wu, Katherine J. “New Research on the Ghent Altarpiece Validates Restorers’ Rendering of the Mystic Lamb’s Alarmingly Humanoid Face.” Smithsonian Magazine. 23 December 2019.
Zhou, Naaman. “Lamb of (oh my) God: disbelief at ‘alarmingly humanoid’ restoration of Ghent altarpiece.” The Guardian. 22 January 2020.
