'In the Roman world there were special birthing chairs with a U-shaped hole in the seat and supports for the feet and back, but we have no way of knowing whether this medical technology had reached provincial towns in Israel...'

Childbirth in Mary's time

'What did Mary look like? Shorter than modern people, about five feet tall for women and a bit more for men. Robust, sturdy, with strong brown hands callused from work, and glossy black hair.
Peasant women often painted a line of red or purple dye down the center  of their hair, and wore modest pieces of jewelry...'

The Real Mary

'Something unexpected happened. Mary became pregnant, and there seemed no obvious explanation. She was a virtuous girl without any previous hint of scandal, so Joseph was perplexed. There must be a father, but he knew it wasn't him...' 

Joseph's Story

'In summer the windows were covered with a lattice cover; in winter with thick woolen matting. This kept the house cool in summer and warm in winter...'

An Ancient Village

Prayer for a New Mother

'Keep from her dreams the rumble of a crowd,
The smell of rough-cut wood, the trail of red,
The thick and chilly whiteness of the shroud
That wraps the strange new body of the dead.'
Read more..

'And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.' 
Luke's Gospel               Read more...

'Both women and men wore a loincloth, the equivalent of underpants. This was a long thin strip of cloth which was wound around the waist and then between the legs, with the end tucked in at the waist. Women wore some sort of binding around their breasts...'

Women's Clothing

The Nativity, Conrad von Soest, 1403 

The stable's roof may be in disrepair, but Mary's clothing is not. Nor is she cold - Joseph is blowing on a little fire, either to warm the room or prepare some food for her - probably both. Her look of utter tenderness is homely and realistic, and the baby turns its little head towards her.

(Right) Another painting by Conrad von Soest, this one of the death of Mary, the mother of Jesus. It is surprisingly explicit, at least to modern eyes. Mary's hands are already blue, as a dying person's extremities will register the onset of death before any other part of the body. Two angels tenderly close her eyes and mouth. John the Beloved Disciple stands faithfully by her, in place of the Son she has lost.

(Left) The painting of the death of Mary in situ, in the Marienkirche in Dortmund.

Gerard David,   circa 1510

Art critics have called Gerard David's paintings conservative, even bland, and who am I to argue? But he paints the most wonderful angels - glorious creatures, truly celestial. See their exquisite wings in his 'Annunciation' in the thumbnail at right. If this is 'conservative', give me more.

Bruges, as the headquarters of Netherlands art, was losing its importance to Antwerp when this painting was done. David was the dean of the painters' guild, and also the last great master from this town. His paintings, beautiful as they are, have a certain melancholy, a gentle sadness.

Michelangelo Caravaggio, 1609

Caravaggio, of course, is always original. His Mary is in disarray, and slumps back in exhaustion - like any woman who has just given birth. Joseph gazes unblinkingly at the little form on the floor -  new life, so full of promise. The shepherds crowd around, talking among themselves. An angel hovers overhead, holding the banner that proclaims 'Gloria in Excelsis Deo' - Glory to God in the Highest.

Adoration of the Shepherds, George de la Tour,  1644

De la Tour is famous for his use of light, and of candlelight in particular, and now he paints the Light of the World. The viewer stands in the darkened background a little away from the quiet, reverent group. The faces of these people show that they are aware of the significance of the newborn child - their focus on his tiny swaddled figure is complete.

Artist unknown,  circa 1100's  

Miniature ivory plaque showing Mary lying on a bed. It may have been part of a portable icon or altar belonging to a royal or aristocratic family, carried around from castle to castle. Most noble families had a portable altar which traveled with them.
 See also the ivory tabernacle shown below.

The composition of the plaque is divided into two sections: a sleeping, clearly exhausted Mary and some angels are on the left, and Baby Jesus, Joseph and the animals are on the right. A homely touch has Joseph rocking the pallet on which the baby lies - something any parent will relate to.

 Stained glass window in St. Denis Basilica, Paris; circa 1100

Mary lies resting on a simple frame-bed, with the swaddled baby beside her. Joseph looks down on them both. Angels perch, bird-like, above. All three are dressed or covered with blue, the color of heaven. In a panel to the left of the main section an angel appears to the shepherds; the section at right shows the Presentation in the Temple. 

Windows in medieval churches were used as teaching aids by the clergy, since few people could read the Bible for themselves.

 Meister der Palastkapelle, Palermo,  1150

Comment: Mary and Jesus are at the center of this composite picture. Around them are 
 * the singing angels, 
 * the Three Wise Men, 
 * a perturbed Joseph awaking from his dream of danger, 
 * shepherds with gifts, 
 * and at bottom right an image of Salome and the midwife. The story of Salome who doubted the virginity of Mary, but became a believer, was common in the Eastern Orthodox church. It appears in several of the apocryphal gospels.

This ancient picture has survived because it is a fresco made from colored glass and stone fragments, usually on a high wall - and hence not subject to damp or vandals. 

Latin was always used for church inscriptions, since it was a universal language understood by all educated people of the time.

Alabaster carved icon, faded coloring. Artist unknown, circa 1400

In this charming icon, Mary sleeps after the birth of Jesus. Joseph watches over her with obvious and touching concern. There is a homeliness, an intimacy  about the figures that is unusual. The Holy Family are shown here as normal people, with the emotions and needs of an ordinary family.

Duccio di Buoninsegna,   1308

This image of the Birth of Christ was one panel from a huge altar piece originally in the cathedral at Siena. It was placed there in 1311. In 1711, by now out of fashion, it was sawn into pieces and distributed to separate locations. Some of the original panels have been lost, but this one, of the birth of Christ, gives some idea of blazing beauty of the sumptuous original.

 Jans tot Sint Geertgen, 1490

The faces of Mary and the angels glow with light coming from the figure of the newborn Christ. From the moment of his birth, Jesus is a source of radiant  enlightenment to the world.

Frankly, I find the painting in the thumbnail at right more interesting. Mary, crowned with roses (a 'rosary'?) holds the newborn Jesus in her arms. She crushes a serpent/dragon under her foot, and seems encased in an egg-like ball of light - 'clothed with the sun' as in Revelations 12. Around her, angels swirl, some of them playing musical instruments, other holding the implements of Jesus' Passion. 

Petrus Christus,  1445

The most flamboyant beings in this painting are the angels, gorgeously dressed and with wings glowing with color. Heavenly creatures indeed. But poor little Jesus, unclothed and with not even a cradle in which to lie. No crib for his bed, indeed.

Petrus Christus was born at the beginning of the fifteenth century at a village called Baerle in the province of North Brabant. He settled in the city of Bruges in 1444 and purchased his freedom of that city, becoming a master in the Guild of St Luke. 

He seems to have been the first Flemish easel-painter to introduced items of everyday life into his paintings - something for which Netherlands paintings would, in future centuries, become famous. He was also a very skilled worker, and his technique alone would single him out from among his contemporaries. 

 Lorenzo Costa, 1490

Lucky Lyon in France to have this picture in their gallery. The Madonna has the facial delicacy which was a feature of Costa's paintings. 
Am I alone in noting some similarity between this Madonna and the women painted by Leonardo da Vinci?
Note the pose of the Infant Jesus; he is usually shown lying on his back looking upwards at his mother. Discarding this formula, Costa has a drowsy Infant looking outwards, towards the viewer. What a relaxed little baby!
Joseph looks glum - or is it merely his drooping moustache that makes him seem so?

Francesco di Giorgio Martini, 1460

 Manuscript illumination, inset in capital letter probably at head of page. 

The intricacy of these hand-painted manuscript pages is astonishing -see the thumb-nail at right, taken from a Book of Hours produced in Belgium some time about 1450.

Albrecht Altdorfer, 1513

It's hard not to be flippant about the renovator's nightmare that shelters Mary, Joseph and the baby Jesus. They have obviously taken refuge in a ruined house. But this house is a metaphor for the world to which Jesus came, a moral shambles with not even one part of it truly habitable. Into such a world was Jesus born.

For another painting of Mary and her son by Altdorfer, but this time with a very different mood, see the thumbnail opposite.

Paul Gauguin, Te Tamari No Atua (Nativity), 1896 (both paintings)

Comment: The exalted mythic creatures of medieval Nativity scenes have disappeared. Despite the presence of the guarding angel, this is a real woman, cradling her baby and lying exhausted after the birth. The fact that she is Polynesian surprises a viewer accustomed to an Anglo-Saxon Mary, but reminds us that Mary was neither: she was a Jewish peasant woman from the farming province of Galilee.

Compare the seated figure and the old woman in the top picture with the figures in the lower painting; the old woman has become an angel. Note also the animals and crib in the background of each painting.

 Gerard van Honthorst, 1622

Radiant light emanates from the newborn child, illuminating everything around it - a symbol of course of the message this baby will bring to the world. But Mary, do cover him up please - it's winter, after all.

Can anyone tell me what the device is in the bottom right hand corner?

 The Birth of Christ, Federico Barocci, 1597

How sweet this painting is. Mary, the new mother, is unable to drag her gaze away from the miracle that is her baby; Joseph, the elated father, pulling visitors in to see his child, surely the most wonderful thing in the universe; and the calm ox and donkey, who look as if they have seen it all before.

Barocci used pastel colors to great effect. His paintings were subtle, gentle, engaging. The composition of this paintings is also interesting: the newborn baby is at the far right, almost outside the picture, but everything directs our eye towards it: Joseph's pointing hand, Mary's face and hands, the animals' gaze.

 The Concert of Angels and the Nativity, Matthias Grünewald,  1515

At last, Mary in pink rather than blue. 
Notice Mary's delighted smile and the baby chortling up at her - also the cello-playing angel's pure joy at the arrival of the Savior. This is homely grandeur at its best - notice the potty and bath ready for this beloved baby. It is no accident that Grünewald included these items. He was reminding the viewer that Jesus was both divine and human in the same body.

Michael Pacher, The St. Wolfgang Altarpiece, 1503

Pacher was a wood-carver as well as a painter, and it shows. His figures have a three-dimensional realism that other painters could only hope for. 

When he was a young man he was deeply impressed with the work of the Italian Andrea Mantegna, whose works are famous for their use of perspective, foreshortening  and depth. As well, Pacher used intricate detail in those parts of the Altarpiece that are carved.

The thumbnail at right shows the St Wolfgang Altarpiece in all its extravagant  glory.

Marten de Vos, 1577

It's an ill wind that blows no good. 
Many of the paintings in Antwerp churches were destroyed by Protestant iconoclasts during the 'cleansing' of the Protestant Reformation - in Antwerp, this was in 1566. When sanity returned, Marten de Vos was one of the artists commissioned to make new paintings to replace the destroyed and disfigured ones. 
Notice the rich colors; the ruined buildings - not only a sign of Jesus' humble circumstances, but symbol of a degraded civilization. See too the distant shepherds cavorting as they wave to the angels above.

 El Greco, 1603

The figures, while clearly mortal, as so ethereal they almost seem to float. El Greco has spurned the traditional blue for Mary's robe, and Joseph's figure is haloed by a golden cloak. These are no ordinary parents, the artist says. The tiny baby, so vulnerable in its nakedness, emanates light.

El Greco captured the essence of all great Spanish art:  subtle sensuality, sophistication, and unique emotional intensity. 

Domenico Ghirlandaio, Adoration of the Shepherds, 1485

'Who are all these people?' poor Joseph seems to be saying, as he gazes at the crowd coming down the hill towards his little family.
Mary, like all of Ghirlandaio's women (see thumbnail at right), is serene, untroubled, concentrating only on her little son, the center of her universe. The baby is naked - which of course he would not have been in real life. Jewish babies were swaddled in long strips of cloth to give them a sense of security, akin to the constraint they had experienced in the womb.

In less skilful hands this might have been a 'busy' picture. Instead, it teems with life and activity. Even the animals are alert, ears pricked, focused on the Lord of Nature.

Giotto, Scrovegni Chapel, 1305

An unnamed woman passes the newly-swaddled infant Jesus to his mother, who lies on a pallet after giving birth. Joseph is waking up - according to medieval thinking, the aged Joseph had not witnessed the miraculous birth of the baby. Angels tumble over the roof of the open shed in which Mary lies. They are watched by surprised shepherds. 

The ox and the ass seems to have had the best view of the whole event - being animals, they carried no sin, and so were allowed to witness what happened in the stable.

Giotto has managed to capture the tenderness and wonder of Mary as she surveys her new-born son.

Piero della Francesca, 1470

Mary kneels in ethereal simplicity, adoring her tiny Son. Flowers have sprung up in the ground around him. The choir of angels play lutes, typical courtly instruments of the period -  they seem suitably unaware of the large, rather determined ox who tries to nudge them aside. The realism of this creature is surprising, given that painters of this and succeeding periods were not often happy in their drawing of animals. 
To the right we see Joseph with two shepherds - this threesome seem altogether more vigorous than the other figures in the painting. 
The background for the group is a broken-down stable with brick walls and a plank roof on which the grass is sprouting. On the edge a bird has perched. 
 In the background is a landscape showing the foothills of the Apennines, and on the right a minute vista of the town, Borgo San Sepolcro, where della Francesca was born in about 1416 - so he has given him birthplace a touch of immortality in this painting.

Curious to think that this painting was done just twenty years or so before Columbus set sail for the Americas.

 Antonio Allegri, called Correggio,  1528

One suspects that Correggio was not a deeply religious man. He was always at pains to show the human face and form in its most pleasing manner, and his most successful work was in the paintings he did of Greek mythology.

 His Madonnas are very human, albeit strikingly beautiful. The figures in his paintings almost always have beautifully rounded limbs, perfect skin and charming contours - an ideal derived from the artist's personal dislike of all kinds of discord, either in life or art. 

The treatment of the flesh tones in this particular painting are typical of Correggio's style - he was a master of chiaroscuro, the art of rendering light in shadow and shadow in light. The flesh of Mary, the Babe, the shepherds and even the ethereal angels glows as if alive and warm, with the tints so perfectly fused that there is a soft roundness in even the masculine figures.

Correggio gave this subject a fresh treatment in two ways: 

• he made the scene unusually intimate

• he presented the birth of Jesus as a miracle of light.

The dark space is illuminated by Jesus himself, who is the source of light. This is both a theological idea and an artistic innovation - religious paintings at that time were expected to be traditional in the way they portrayed Jesus.

 Adoration of the Shepherds, Giorgione,1500

At first glance this painting of the Adoration of the Shepherds seems rather unexciting. Mary and a suitably aged Joseph gaze at the the newly born Jesus, and the two shepherds bow before the tiny naked figure lying on the ground.

But what about the landscape to the left of the painting? What is the significance of that deep corridor of space that leads off into the distance? The setting seems stronger, more arresting, than the subject itself. Are we meant to think that Giorgione has painted the path humanity will take, into a Christian future?

Altarpiece of the Virgin, Jacques Darat, 1433

Contrast this painting with the one above. It is an altarpiece, meant for public display, and there is nothing homely about this Holy Family. Mary's cloak is embroidered with gold thread; her skin has the delicate bloom of a French noblewoman of the time. The stable appears to come equipped with a plush red armchair for her to sit on. This is the venerated Mary of the medieval Catholic church, second only to her Son.

 Journey of the Magi, James Tissot,  1894

Comment: Tissot was not a religious man, and strictly speaking this painting is really only an excuse to show the grandeur of the highland country near Jerusalem/Bethlehem, and the magnificent Arab kings as they travel in search of Jesus. 

Adoration of the Magi, Leonardo da Vinci, 1481

Critics and antiquarians have spent many hours on this drawing/painting, attempting to work out what parts of it were painted by da Vinci, and what parts were the work of a later hand. No matter. The superb drawing and composition are unmistakably da Vinci's.

The painting pulses with energy. There is a sense of barely controlled chaos in the people, animals and landscape - but at the center, holding it all together, is the still, calm figure of Mary, and a chubby, unconcerned Baby Jesus.

Adoration of the Magi, Gentile da Fabriano, 1423

The altarpiece of the Adoration of the Magi is Fabriano's most famous painting. Contrast its lavish intricacy with Gauguin's painting of a Polynesian Mary (further up this page) and you will see the evolution of religious painting at a glance. Which do you like better?