Seeking Transparency

R O C K C RY S TA L S A C R O S S T H E
M E D I E VA L M E D I T E R R A N E A N

Edited by Cynthia Hahn and Avinoam Shalem

Gebr. Mann Verlag · Berlin

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Cover illustration: Rock crystal ewer, Fatimid Egypt, ca. 1000, with 19th-century
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on loan to the Dallas Museum of Art, inv. no. K.1.2014.1.A-B. Image courtesy
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CONTENTS

Cynthia Hahn, Avinoam Shalem

Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7

STATE OF STUDY

Jens Kröger
The State of Research on Some Rock Crystal Ewers and Related Vessels from Islamic Lands . . . . . . . . . . 13

AVAILABILITY, CARVING TECHNIQUES, AND CHARACTER OF ROCK CRYSTAL

Stéphane Pradines
Madagascar, the Source of the Abbasid and Fatimid Rock Crystals: New Evidence from
Archaeological Investigations in East Africa . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 35

Elise Morero, Jeremy Johns, Hara Procopiou, Roberto Vargiolu, Hassan Zahouani
Relief Carving on Medieval Islamic Glass and Rock Crystal Vessels: A Comparative Approach
to Techniques of Manufacture . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 51

Genevra Kornbluth
Transparent, Translucent, and Opaque: Merovingian and Anglo-Saxon Crystal Amulets . . . . . . . . . . . . 67

LITERARY TEXTS: FROM WORKSHOPS TO MEANING

Marisa Galvez
Crystal Desire in Medieval Texts and Beyond . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 79

Stefania Gerevini
Rock Crystal in the Medieval West: An Essay on Techniques and Workshops . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 89

Avinoam Shalem
On Medieval Rock Crystal Sources and Resources in the Lands of Islam . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 101

Brigitte Buettner
Icy Geometry: Rock Crystal in Lapidary Knowledge. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 117

5
 Contents

ANCIENT AND ROMAN CRYSTALS

Zainab Bahrani
Crystal Words: The Power of Stones in the Ancient Near East . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 129

Isabelle Bardiès
At Once Beautiful and Mysterious: Updating the State of Research on the Rock Crystal Lionheads
in the Musée de Cluny (Paris) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 141

Patrick R. Crowley
Rock Crystal and the Nature of Artifice in Ancient Rome . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 151

MEDIEVAL CRYSTAL ACROSS THE MEDITERRANEAN

Ingeborg Krueger
Man-Made Crystal: Crystal Glass in the Middle Ages . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 163

Marcus Pilz
Beyond Fatimid: The Iconography of Medieval Islamic Rock Crystal Vessels and the Question of Dating . . . . . 169

Stefania Gerevini
The Bern Diptych: Venetian Rock Crystal between Craft, Trade, and Aesthetics . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 183

Beate Fricke
Hinges as Hints: Heaven and Earth in the Coconut Goblet at the Cathedral of Münster,
Part of a Lost Rock Crystal Ensemble . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 197

Bissera V. Pentcheva
The “Crystalline Effect”: Optical and Sonic Aura and the Poetics of the Resurrected Body . . . . . . . . . . . 211

Gia Toussaint
The Sacred Made Visible: The Use of Rock Crystals in Medieval Church Treasuries . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 225

AMULETS AND MAGNIFYING GLASSES

Farid Benfeghoul
Through the Lens of Islam: A Note on Arabic Sources on the Use of Rock Crystals and
Other Gems as Vision Aids . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 237

Venetia Porter
Early Seals and Amulets Made from Rock Crystal . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 251

PLATES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 257

Bibliography . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 291

The Contributors . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 321

Credits . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 325

Index . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 328

6
Stefania Gerevini
ROCK CRYSTAL IN THE MEDIEVAL WEST:
AN ESSAY ON TECHNIQUES AND WORKSHOPS
As the essays in this volume collectively demonstrate,
rock crystal was a popular artistic medium throughout
the Mediterranean in the Middle Ages. No comprehen-
sive history of the techniques and technologies employed
to cut, carve, and engrave rock crystal has so far been
written. Nevertheless, the survival of a wide—if piece-
meal—range of material and textual evidence has enabled
scholarship to outline the main developments of this in-
dustry in western Europe between the seventh and the
fourteenth century, and to investigate specific chapters of
its history in greater detail. This essay aims to summarize
current scholarly knowledge about Western medieval
crystal carving techniques and about craft transmission
and workshop organization, to point to some unresolved
issues in these areas, and to offer a bibliographic aid to
those interested in pursuing further research into these
topics.
Our knowledge about the techniques of manufacture
of rock crystal artifacts in medieval times chiefly rests on
two categories of evidence: surviving artworks and ar-
chaeological finds; and a diverse range of textual sources
comprising technical and artistic handbooks, scientific
and literary compilations, and legal and archival docu-
ments. These sources have been scrutinized by scholars
starting from the nineteenth century, yielding knowledge
about the range of artistic applications of rock crystal in
medieval Europe, the ways in which quartz objects were
produced and traded, the value of rock crystal artifacts,
both financial and symbolic, and the status of the artisans
who produced them. Nevertheless, these sources also
pose specific interpretative challenges, which curtail our
understanding of those same issues.
1 On Fatimid techniques, see the essay by Elise Morero et al. in this volume, and a cluster of essays they have published on this topic in recent years.
Elise Morero et al., “Carving Techniques of Fatimid Rock Crystal Ewers (10–12th Cent. A.D.),” Wear 301, nos. 1–2 (2013): 150–56; Elise Morero et
al., “The Manufacturing Techniques of Fatimid Rock Crystal Ewers,” in Gemstones in the First Millennium AD: Mines, Trade, Workshops and Symbol-
ism, ed. Alexandra Hilgner et al. (Mainz: Verlag des Römisch-Germanischen Zentralmuseums, 2017), 119–35.
To begin with the basics, rock crystal is a chemically
pure substance. This makes it difficult to ascertain the
provenance of the raw material, especially without sub-
mitting it to (invasive) analysis of its gas inclusions. In
addition, the tools employed for hardstone and gemstone
carving remained similar from antiquity to early modern
times, making it difficult to securely date rock crystal ar-
tifacts on the basis of their general technical properties
and to assign them to specific workshops or geographic
areas. The widespread medieval habit of reusing preex-
isting rock crystal items further complicates the picture.
Even when metalwork mounts or other framing devices
can be assigned to a specific cultural and artistic milieu,
the date and context of production of the rock crystal ele-
ments often remain elusive.
On the other hand, more specific technical differenc-
es—such as the angle, shape, and direction of the trace left
by scribers or by rotating drills or wheels on the plane of
the carved stone—can reveal the practices of individual
workshops or specific artistic milieus, and they represent
useful aids in discriminating between original medieval
pieces and later forgeries. One study, supported by micro-
scopic analysis and digital scanning, has significantly im-
proved our knowledge of Fatimid rock crystal carving
techniques.1 Regrettably, no large-scale systematic sur-
vey has yet been carried out on Western medieval rock
crystal artworks, leaving an incomplete picture of con-
temporary techniques of rock crystal cutting and carving
across Europe.
In this context, textual and documentary sources—par-
ticularly artistic handbooks and recipe compilations—have
proven paramount. Nevertheless, as Pamela Long has
89
 Stefania Gerevini

Fig. 1 Bound pendant from Cologne Cathedral grave 808, dark rock crystal set in gold,
Cologne, Domschatzkammer, inv. no. F536 1/11700

recently reminded us, the specific informative value of these
texts needs to be carefully considered. Generally speaking,
the ability to make objects is not necessarily coincidental
with that of verbally describing the processes required to
do so. More specifically, it is often remarked that medieval
crafts may at times have been practiced by craftsmen whose
levels of literacy would not allow them to author technical
treatises, while recipes or technical procedures might be
recorded by literate scribes who did not themselves engage
in artisanal practices. From this perspective, ancient and
medieval technical treatises are “poised somewhere be-
tween workshop and scriptorium.” While several of them
are likely to have been intended to be used by artists who
could read them, or have them read to them, these treatises
were often transmitted by scribes who had no connection
with actual workshops, and who may have copied texts that
were originally composed decades or centuries earlier.2
These cautionary remarks notwithstanding, scholar-
ship has done much to clarify where, and how, rock crys-
tal was manufactured, by what categories of craftsmen it
was handled, and how the European industry of rock crys-
tal carving evolved from Frankish times to the later Mid-
dle Ages. The pages that follow summarize their collective
efforts.
The Early Middle Ages: Merovingian Amulets
and Carolingian Intaglios, between Continuity
and Innovation
Much of the debate surrounding rock crystal carving and
engraving in the early Middle Ages concerns the (dis)con-
tinuities between ancient and medieval lapidary tech-
niques, particularly in relation to ideas of Carolingian ar-
tistic renovatio,3 and the significance of Byzantine art as
intermediary between Roman lapidary traditions and their
revival in Carolingian Europe.4 It is generally assumed
that the range of sophisticated procedures known to Ro-
man crystal engravers and crystal carvers—who were ca-
pable of manufacturing large-scale relief-cut vessels and
elaborate containers with thin and highly fragile walls—
were largely lost in western Europe after late antiquity,
only to be revived—via imitation of Islamic artifacts—in
the thirteenth century.
The majority of artifacts that have survived from early
medieval centuries are small in size and have simple shapes
that could be obtained with the aid of rather basic sanding
techniques. Spherical crystal pendants, most commonly
bound in metal (fig. 1), and faceted spindle whorls, which
may originally have had a functional purpose, were parts

2 Pamela O. Long, Openness, Secrecy, Authorship: Technical Arts and the Culture of Knowledge from Antiquity to the Renaissance (Baltimore: Johns
Hopkins University Press, 2001), 72–101, esp. 82.
3 Ernest Babelon, “La glyptique à l’époque Mérovingienne et Carolingienne,” Comptes rendus des séances de l’Académie des inscriptions et Belles-Lettres
39, no. 5 (1895): 398–427, esp. 407–9.
4 See, for example, Joseph Philippe, “Le cristal de roche et la question byzantine,” Corso di cultura ravennate e bizantina 26 (1979): 227–47.

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 Rock Crystal in the Medieval West: An Essay on Techniques and Workshops

of the Merovingian and Anglo-Saxon “feminine burial

kit,” operating simultaneously as gender and wealth
markers.5 A more substantial and sophisticated group of
engraved crystal cabochons and plaques have, instead,
survived from the Carolingian period. Our knowledge of
these artifacts, and of their Merovingian and Anglo-Saxon
predecessors, has greatly benefited from Genevra Korn-
bluth’s careful study.
As Kornbluth explains in her Engraved Gems from Caro-
lingian Europe, Carolingian rock crystal intaglios were gen-
erally cut in reverse (fig. 2) so that the viewer would look
at the engraved design through the transparent body of the
stone.6 The engraving process began with preliminary
sketching. This was done with a sharp, pointed scriber,
presumably tipped with a hardstone—such as diamond or
flint. Once the design had been lightly sketched onto the
reverse surface of the gemstone, the engraving proper could
begin. This was carried out with rotating instruments, ei-
ther a rotating ball or engraving wheel with curved sides.
The engraver could use multiple tools of different shapes
and sizes: these were presumably made of metal (lead, iron,
or copper), and covered in abrasive material: sand, emery,
ground crystal, used alone or in combination. The rotat-
ing tool would have been set in motion by a bow, whose
string wrapped around the spindle. The spindle might be Fig. 2 Carolingian rock crystal convex intaglio with
held vertically or horizontally. The former technique, which Crucifixion, seen from reverse, ca. 846–69. London, British
allowed the drill bit to press down on the stone, was pre- Museum, inv. no. 1855,0305.1
sumably used to engrave small circular depressions in the
quartz. The latter technique, which entailed holding the of short and straight cuts, an indication that they were
drill parallel to the plane of the gem with the support of a done with rotating tools with flat sides. Contrariwise, she
frame, was more apt for the incision of longer cuts. Once argued, Carolingian intaglios were produced with the aid
the design was engraved into the stone, smaller details of rounded instruments with curved sides, which allowed
could be added with a smaller drill, or with a scriber. The the engraving of curved segments as single, continuous
engraved surface would not be further polished.7 cuts.8 In their recent work on Islamic rock crystal, Jeremy
The relationship between Carolingian rock crystal carv- Johns and Elise Morero argued to the contrary, demon-
ing and engraving techniques and Byzantine (or Islamic) strating that the technique necessary for the manufacture
techniques is still the object of vibrant debates. Against ear- of Carolingian intaglios was, in fact, similar to that em-
lier scholarship, Kornbluth suggested that curved incisions ployed for the production of ancient Byzantine and Islam-
on the majority of surviving Sasanian, Byzantine, and an- ic intaglios, and suggesting that the Carolingian court
cient Roman intaglios were obtained through a sequence might have imported skilled craftsmen from Byzantium.9

5 Genevra Kornbluth, “Merovingian Rock Crystal: Practical Tools and Status Markers,” in Golden Middle Ages in Europe: New Research into Early-
Medieval Communities and Identities, ed. Annemarieke Willemsen and Hanneke Kik (Turnhout: Brepols, 2015), 49–55, 88–90.
6 Genevra Kornbluth, Engraved Gems of the Carolingian Empire (University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1995). The following descrip-
tion largely relies on Kornbluth’s insights on pp. 5–12.
7 Though largely focused on antiquity, the following works also provide useful information about the range of techniques and instruments that were
generally employed to carve gemstones in premodern times: Adolf Furtwängler, Die antiken Gemmen: Geschichte der Steinschneidekunst im klassi-
schen Altertum, 3 vols. (Berlin and Leipzig: Giesecke & Devrient, 1900), vol. 3, esp. 397–402; and Gisela Marie Augusta Richter, Catalogue of En-
graved Gems of the Classical Style (New York: Metropolitan Museum of Art, 1920), xlvii–liv.
8 Kornbluth, Engraved Gems, 11–15; and Genevra Kornbluth, “Carolingian Engraved Gems: ‘Golden Rome Is Reborn’?,” in Engraved Gems: Survivals
and Revivals, ed. Clifford Malcolm Brown (Washington, DC: National Gallery of Art, 1997), 54–55.
9 Jeremy Johns and Elise Morero, “The Diffusion of Rock Crystal Carving Techniques in the Fatimid Mediterranean” (paper presented at the Cour-
tauld Institute of Art, London, April 20, 2013), 4. Working paper published online: https://www.academia.edu/5896062/_with_Elise_Morero_The_
diffusion_of_rock_crystal_carving_techniques_in_the_F%C4%81%E1%B9%ADimid_Mediterranean (accessed April 18, 2019).

91
 Stefania Gerevini

The reduced size of the majority of surviving Carolin-
gian rock crystal intaglios, and the techniques employed
for their carving, are also indirectly informative of the
size and organization of contemporary workshops. Most
of the work, including the cutting and polishing of stone,
could be done by one craftsman, with the help of an assis-
tant who operated the bow. The engraving itself was also
most likely done by one person, as the diminutive size of
these gems did not allow for multiple artists to work si-
multaneously on the same piece.10
Complementing physical evidence, indirect informa-
tion about the rock crystal industry and its organization
in Carolingian times may be gathered from a letter ad-
dressed by the Benedictine abbot Lupus de Ferrières to
Charles the Bald (823–877). At the end of a message dis-
cussing one of Augustine’s sermons, Lupus writes:
I have, moreover, sent Your Highness the gems which
our jeweler had recently acquired in order to cut and
polish. If their beauty and luster meet with your ap-
proval, I shall compliment the artisan.11
This brief passage would appear to confirm that the pro-
duction of engraved gemstones could indeed be under-
taken by individual artists. It further suggests that their
work was specialized, and that it was the object of aesthet-
ic and technical admiration. Finally, as later sources also
confirm, the letter—written by a Benedictine monk—
might hint to the fact that hardstone carving was prac-
ticed in monastic workshops.
Early medieval cutting techniques are further illumi-
nated by Heraclius’s De coloribus et artibus Romanorum.
This artistic handbook consists of twenty-one chapters or-
ganized into two books, which have been alternatively dat-
ed to the eighth and the tenth century. A third book was
added to the corpus at a later stage, most likely in the
twelfth century. Heraclius’s identity and provenance are
uncertain. However, scholarship has frequently identified
Italy—perhaps the Veneto—as his most plausible place of
residence.12 Internal textual references suggest that the text
likely originated in a monastic context. Nevertheless, Her-
aclius repeatedly emphasizes the significance of practice,
and refers to his own direct experience of the techniques
surveyed in the manual.13 His instructions on how to cut
and polish crystal, which may be found in Book 1, Chap-
ter 12, are worth reporting in full. These or other very
similar techniques were probably used by the majority of
early medieval artisans to cut crystal elements into shape.
Thus the treatise provides key information about the very
first phases of the manufacture of crystal items, before the
gemstones or cabochons were polished and engraved:
About the ways in which crystal may be cut—Crystal
can easily be cut by the following artifice. Seek for
yourself a convenient plate of lead. To this, join two
iron nails, one on each side, which will keep firmly in
place the lead at the center. Indeed, to the lead alone is
assigned the task of cutting, (while) these (nails)
should be the exterior guides of the (lead) plate, en-
suring that the movement proceeds in a straight line.
Nevertheless, you will not be able to overcome such
hardness with the softness of lead, unless you add
something to it. For example, grind into granules as
fine as powder the fragments of a furnace, which you
will be able to bind to the soft blade. Indeed, this asso-
ciation will make the lead sharp. And when the frag-
ments (will) have regained the hardness of brick, “you
may cut, with the addition of some river water”; but
prior to doing so, mitigate the hardness of crystal with
the blood of a goat—for blood is capable of making
diamonds soft to the iron (blade).14
Heraclius’s indications are supplemented by those provid-
ed by another well-known, early medieval compilation of
technical recipes, the Mappae clavicula, whose core is likely
to have originated in the ninth century, and to have been
subsequently expanded until it reached its most compre-
hensive version in the twelfth century.15 Various passages
of the Mappae clavicula discuss rock crystal and gem-
stones, describing how they should be cut into shape, held

10 Kornbluth, Engraved Gems, 16.

11 Lupus of Ferrières, The Letters of Lupus of Ferrières, ed. Graydon W. Regenos (The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff, 1966), 140.
12 Mary Philadelphia Merrifield, Original Treatises: Dating from the XIIth to XVIIIth Centuries on the Arts of Painting, in Oil, Miniature, Mosaic, and on
Glass; of Gilding, Dyeing, and the Preparation of Colours and Artificial Gems (London: J. Murray, 1849), 166–203; Arthur Giry, Notice sur un traité du
Moyen âge intitulé “De coloribus et artibus Romanorum” (Paris: Imprimerie nationale, 1878); Eraclio, I colori e le arti dei romani e la compilazione
pseudo-eracliana, ed. Chiara Garzya Romano (Bologna: Il Mulino, 1996), xvi–xxx.
13 Long, Openness, Secrecy, Authorship, 84.
14 Heraclius’s manual was first edited and translated into English in Mary Philadelphia Merrifield, Original Treatises, 182–257. The passage on rock
crystal, which may be found on page 194, has some inaccuracies, which have been amended here. For the Latin text, see Heraclius, Heraclius, von
den Farben und Künsten der Römer, ed. Albert Ilg (Vienna: Wilhelm Braumüller, 1873), 39; and Eraclio, I colori e le arti dei Romani, 9.
15 Cyril Stanley Smith and John G. Hawthorne, trans., Mappae clavicula: A Little Key to the World of Medieval Techniques, Transactions of the American
Philosophical Society, N.S. 64.4 (Philadelphia: American Philosophical Society, 1974), 4.

92
 Rock Crystal in the Medieval West: An Essay on Techniques and Workshops

during the engraving process, and polished.16 While most
of these passages only appear in the later, twelfth-century
version of the tract, and are therefore more appropriately
applicable to the material discussed in the next section,
paragraph 146-F, “How unpolished gems ought to be held
for polishing,” does appear in the earliest surviving man-
uscript, which has been alternatively dated to the ninth or
tenth century:17
A piece of wood is taken, as thick as the little finger,
as long as the width of a palm; and on its tip is placed
hot pitch, mixed with ground-up tile—this mixture
should have two parts of tile powder and a third one
of pitch. After the mixture is heated [and placed on
the stick], the gem stone that is to be polished should
be applied so that it sticks to it.18
Heraclius’s tract and the Mappae clavicula provide pre-
cious insights into how early medieval artisans approached
the manufacture of rock crystal, into the techniques they
mastered, and into the categories of objects that they were
able to produce. How did workshop practices evolve in
subsequent centuries, though, and what enabled rock crys-
tal carvers to create increasingly more elaborate artifacts?
The Twelfth Century:
Archaeology and Artistic Transmission
Hans R. Hahnloser and Susanne Brugger-Koch’s Corpus
der Hartsteinschliffe des 12.–15. Jahrhunderts is the most
comprehensive publication on Western medieval rock
crystal, and the standard reference for scholars in the field.19
This monumental work, which catalogues a vast number
of quartz objects and discusses questions of provenance,
trade, and technique, begins with the twelfth century. It is
indeed at this time that the number of surviving artworks,
as well as the quantity and informative value of extant tex-
tual sources, becomes more ample and specific. Informa-
tion is particularly abundant for the Meuse-Rhine region,
where rock crystal was routinely employed for the decora-
tion of a wide range of luxury objects. Reliquaries, porta-
ble altars, croziers, book covers, and a variety of liturgical
furnishings, such as candlesticks and crosses, were en-
crusted with polished rock crystal cabochons or pierced
knobs, which added to the sheen and aesthetic opulence
of the artworks. Complementing the vast corpus of sur-
viving artifacts from this period, our knowledge of rock
crystal cutting techniques in the twelfth century benefits
from two further sources. These are the tract De diversis
artibus (On Various Arts), composed in or near Cologne
during the first third of the twelfth century by an anony-
mous Benedictine monk-artisan writing under the pseud-
onym Theophilus, and a recent archaeological campaign,
also carried out in Cologne, which brought to light a
twelfth-century rock crystal workshop.
Theophilus’s treatise On Various Arts is one of the best
known and most debated artistic manuals from the Mid-
dle Ages.20 The treatise comprises three books, respective-
ly dedicated to painting and illumination, stained glass,
and goldsmithery. Specialist scholarship has intensely dis-
cussed the nature and functions of this text, as well as its
sources.21 Nevertheless, Theophilus is generally identified
as Roger of Helmarshausen (ca. 1070–ca. 1125), a Bene-
dictine monk and practicing goldsmith.22 Theophilus is
believed to have drawn on his own practical knowledge

16 Smith and Hawthorne, Mappae Clavicula, nos. 146 E–F, at 49; no. 191 A, at 54; and, specifically on rock crystal, no. 290, at 76.
17 See ibid., 12.
18 Ibid., 49.
19 Hans R. Hahnloser and Susanne Brugger-Koch, Corpus der Hartsteinschliffe des 12.–15. Jahrhunderts (Berlin: Deutscher Verlag für Kunstwissen-
schaft, 1985). See also H. R. Hahnloser, “Début de l’art des cristalliers aux pays mosans et rhénans,” Les Monuments historiques de la France 12 (1966):
19–23; H. R. Hahnloser, “Theophilus Presbyter und die Inkunabeln des mittelalterlichen Kristallschliffs an Rhein und Maas,” in Rhein und Maas.
Kunst und Kultur 800–1400, ed. Anton Legner, 2 vols., exh. cat. Kunsthalle Köln et al. (Cologne: Schnütgen-Museum, 1973), 2:287–96.
20 The standard English edition of the treatise is Theophilus, The Various Arts: De Diversis Artibus, trans. C. R Dodwell (New York: Clarendon Press,
1986). For different editions of the Latin version, now see the online project Schedula: http://schedula.uni-koeln.de. Secondary literature on Theophi-
lus is vast. For a recent discussion of the tract and of its implications for our understanding of twelfth-century artistic techniques and aesthetic values
(discussed below), and of the cultural and theoretical embeddedness of technical knowledge and discourse, see Heidi C. Gearhart, Theophilus and
the Theory and Practice of Medieval Art (University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 2017), with comprehensive bibliography.
21 For recent takes on this debate, and further bibliography, see Andreas Speer, ed., Zwischen Kunsthandwerk und Kunst: Die “Schedula diversarum
artium” (Berlin and Boston: De Gruyter, 2013).
22 The identification, which is still contested in scholarship, is based on the phrase “Theophili, qui et Rugerus,” which appears in the prologue of a
twelfth-century manuscript version of Theophilus’s De diversis artibus (Vienna, Austrian National Library, 2527 HAN MAG), held to be the author’s
personal copy. See Theophilus, The Various Arts, xxxix–xliv; Eckhard Freise, “Roger von Helmarshausen in seiner monastischen Umwelt,” Frühmit-
telalterliche Studien 15 (1981): 180–293. For a different identification, see Ilya Dines, “The Theophilus Manuscript Tradition Reconsidered in the
Light of New Manuscript Discoveries,” in Zwischen Kunsthandwerk und Kunst, ed. Speer, 3–10; and, in the same volume, a useful recapitulation of
the debate, with further bibliography: Stefanos Kroustallis, “Theophilus Matters: The Thorny Question of the Authorship of the ‘Schedula diversa-
rum artium,’” in Zwischen Kunsthandwerk und Kunst, ed. Speer, 52–71.

93
 Stefania Gerevini

for the writing of the treatise—particularly of the third,
longest book, on metalworking—and on a variety of ear-
lier technical, gemological, and alchemical treatises, in-
cluding Heraclius’s De coloribus et artibus Romanorum and
the Mappae clavicula. Theophilus’s justification for the use
of sumptuary arts in the service of religion—an argument
that is transversal to his work—has also encouraged schol-
arship to interpret his manual in the context of ongoing
debates about the role of the visual arts in monastic con-
texts and spiritual life, at a time in the twelfth century
when the Benedictine order and its alleged excesses were
the subject of sharp criticism. From this perspective, The-
ophilus’s treatise eloquently explains not only the specific
techniques employed in metalworking and gem cutting
but also how these crafts participated in wider aesthetic
and philosophical discussions as well as in the definition
of contemporary cultural values.
Theophilus writes about crystal cutting in Book 3 of his
treatise, and provides precious information about the po-
tential and limits of quartz carving at his time. His de-
scription of the procedures of rock crystal cutting and
polishing closely resembles the account provided by the
Mappae clavicula, the most comprehensive version of
which likewise dates from the twelfth century.23 Together,
the two treatises indicate that rock crystal blocks would
first be cut to the right dimension with the aid of a wet
saw charged with emery or other abrasive substances.
Subsequently, the quartz block would be attached to a
wooden plaque and abraded into shape using a lead plate
covered in emery stone—a procedure that closely recalls
Heraclius’s earlier indications. Finally, the object would
be polished employing finer abrasive powders (emery,
flint, or tile powder) sprinkled on a lead plate and then on
a woolen cloth or goatskin. Theophilus also explained how
to pierce round knops, which were “often affixed on bish-
ops’ croziers or candlesticks.” Once cut into shape and
polished, the knop was to be set firmly in a hollow piece of
wood. A small cavity was obtained by chipping away at
the summit of the knop with a small hammer. The crystal
was hammered lightly until the center of the ball was
reached, and then the same procedure was followed on
the other side, until the crystal was pierced through. The
hole was then enlarged and polished by inserting and rub-
bing in it cylindrical metal rods of increasing dimensions,
sprinkled with water and sandstone powder.24
The accuracy of Theophilus’s descriptions of the proce-
dures employed to carve and polish rock crystal has been
confirmed and supplemented by a recent archaeological
campaign in Cologne.25 Undertaken in the area adjacent
to the cathedral, the excavations recovered the remains of
a twelfth-century rock crystal workshop. This was located
in the immediate proximity of the archbishop’s palace, on
ecclesiastical land—a plausible indication that the bishop
and religious elite of Cologne may have been its primary
patrons.26 The workshop is believed to have occupied an
approximate area of five to ten square meters, seemingly
confirming that the carving of small rock crystal artifacts,
such as cabochons and knobs, did not require spacious
workspaces or large teams of craftsmen, but could be car-
ried out by one skilled artisan, helped by an assistant. The
excavations further revealed that the workshop comprised
a rectangular pit (3.8 × 3.2 m, depth: approx. 1.6 m). This
contained rock crystal pieces, and grinding and cutting
waste—an indication that the pit presumably served as a
collection tank for water and abrasive powder wastes, as
well as for rock crystal residues. It has been suggested that
the process of grinding took place next to the rim of the
pit (so that the water and abrasives would spill into it), or
directly on top of it, probably on a wooden grate. The
same excavations also retrieved grindstone fragments,
lead sheets, and small iron hammers across the workshop
area, in punctual confirmation of Theophilus’s instruc-
tions (fig. 3). Also corroborating his description of the main
procedures of crystal carving, a large number of pieces of
bone and other materials excavated from the pit revealed
traces of a black substance, likely pitch. As discussed in
Theophilus’s text, it was customary to affix rock crystal
pieces to a support as they were carved and polished;
the artisan should “take the preparation which is called
tenax … put it on the fire until it melts, and with it fix the
crystal to a long piece of wood, which is of a comparable
thickness.” Finally, the excavations yielded about 3.3 kilo-
grams of rock crystal fragments—approximately 60,000
pieces—but only very small quantities of jasper and agate.

23 Theophilus, The Various Arts, 168–71. Compare with Smith and Hawthorne, Mappae Clavicula, 49, 54 (on gemstones in general), and 76 (specifical-
ly on rock crystal).
24 Theophilus, The Various Arts, 169–70. For a discussion of Theophilus’s rock crystal cutting techniques, see also Hahnloser and Brugger-Koch, Cor-
pus der Hartsteinschliffe, 13–15.
25 The following discussion is largely based on Manfred Burianek and Thomas Höltken, “A Rock Crystal Workshop from Cologne,” in Gemstones in the
First Millennium AD, ed. Hilgner et al., 137–50. The material was also discussed, more extensively, in Jens Berthold, “Edle Steine, edler Befund – Eine
hochmittelalterliche Bergkristallwerkstatt in Köln,” in Archäologie und mittelalterliches Handwerk: Eine Standortbestimmung, ed. Walter Meltzer,
Soester Beiträge zur Archäologie (Soest: Westfälische Verlagsbuchhandlung Mocker & Jahn, 2008), 267–83.
26 Jens Berthold, “Eine Bergkristallwerkstatt des 12. Jahrhunderts in der Kölner Domimmunität,” Kölner Domblatt. Jahrbuch des Zentral-Dombauver-
eins 71 (2006): 61–80.

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 Rock Crystal in the Medieval West: An Essay on Techniques and Workshops

This suggests that crystal carving in Cologne was a highly
specialized industry, rather than one of several techniques
practiced by artisans who handled a wide range of hard-
stones.
Theophilus, the Mappae clavicula, and the archaeolog-
ical reports discussed above are sources precious for what
they omit as well as for what they disclose. Theophilus
and the Mappae describe rather simple objects (globes,
cabochons, knops) but make no reference to rock crystal
vessels or sculpted items. Theophilus seems also to indi-
cate that boring was effected by means of hammering and
filing, rather than with the aid of a lathe or a mechanic
drill.27 Similarly, the excavations of the twelfth-century
rock crystal workshop recovered a number of finished and
unfinished cabochons and portions of knobs, but pub-
lished archaeological reports do not mention any larger
vessels. These excavations further unearthed lead sheets,
metal hammers, and grinding stones, but published ac-
counts do not refer to lathes or other mechanical equip-
ment. In this context, it is worth recalling that rock crystal
artifacts of large size and sophisticated workmanship,
specifically relief-cut vessels, do not appear to have been
produced in Europe at this time. They were, instead, ac-
quired from the Islamic world, and frequently reused as
liturgical furnishings and relic holders in ecclesiastical
treasuries throughout medieval Europe.28 Taken together,
these elements seem to suggest that western European
artists may not have mastered the techniques required to
carve hollow vessels of quartz before the thirteenth centu-
ry. When and how did this become possible?
Thirteenth Century:
Technical Innovations and the Rise of Guilds
The thirteenth century witnessed a significant rise in the
popularity of rock crystal. The number, variety, and com-
plexity of extant artworks, particularly of those dating
from the second half of the century, is staggering. Also,
while rock crystal had long been employed in the shape of
cabochons and plaques to adorn metalwork, from the
thirteenth century onward transparent quartz is used to
make whole artifacts—liturgical crosses, reliquaries, and
religious and secular containers that, as has often been
suggested, point to a new aesthetics of transparency, as
well as to a new “desire to view” on the part of late medie-
val audiences.29 While the changing aesthetic and symbol-
ic properties of rock crystal have attracted much scholarly
attention in recent years, our understanding of the techni-
cal and artisanal innovations that made it possible to di-
versify and augment the overall production (and consump-
tion) of quartz artworks in Europe is still incomplete.
Based on analysis of surviving artifacts, Hahnloser and
Brugger-Koch suggested that a number of sophisticated
techniques developed in the thirteenth century, including
the use of rotating x-shaped drill bits and tubular coring
tubes to hollow out larger vessels (see fig. 4 for traces of a
similar technique in ancient Egypt); the revival of surface
engraving, based on the close imitation of Islamic arti-
facts; and the art of faceting rock crystal cabochons or
knops.30 More specifically, in the early thirteenth century,
there began in Europe a production of bored relic holders
of various shapes that testifies, on the one hand, to the in-
creasing aesthetic admiration for the properties of trans-
parency and visual clarity of rock crystal, and, on the oth-
er, to the growing confidence of Western craftsmen in
handling this stone (figs. 5–7). These vessels generally
have thick walls and uncomplicated shapes. However, the
channels carved through their core to house relics were
larger than those of earlier pieces, and they posed a more
significant mechanical challenge to craftsmen. As the cen-
tral bore was expanded, the walls of the reliquary became
thinner and the fragility of the object increased, as did the
possibility of breakage (fig. 6). Some of these thirteenth-
century reliquaries also carry stylized volute-shaped en-
gravings (fig. 7), which—as Hahnloser and Brugger-Koch
suggested—were possibly executed in imitation of Fatim-
id examples.
The relationship between earlier Islamic pieces and late
medieval technical innovations in Europe is an enduring
scholarly concern. Early scholarship focused on a group of
faceted vessels in Western collections, alternatively arguing
for their Byzantine, Islamic, or Western provenance, and
suggested that surface faceting may have been reintroduced

27 John Blair and Nigel Ramsay, eds., English Medieval Industries: Craftsmen, Techniques, Products (London and Rio Grande: Hambledon Press, 1991), 136.
28 For a comprehensive survey of extant Islamic artifacts in Western treasury collections and an interpretation of this phenomenon, see Avinoam
Shalem, Islam Christianized: Islamic Portable Objects in the Medieval Church Treasuries of the Latin West, 2nd rev. ed. (Frankfurt am Main: Peter
Lang, 1998); see also Sophie Makariou, “Le cristal de roche islamique et ses avatars liturgiques dans l’occident roman,” Les Cahiers de Saint-Michel
de Cuxa 37 (2006): 239–48.
29 This expression is coined in Christof L. Diedrichs, “Desire for Viewing: ‘A Deluge of Images’ in the Middle Ages,” in Genre and Ritual: The Cultural
Heritage of Medieval Rituals, ed. Eyolf Østrem et al. (Copenhagen: Museum Tusculanum Press, 2005), 87–118.
30 Hahnloser and Brugger-Koch, Corpus der Hartsteinschliffe, 15.
31 Hans Wentzel, “Die Monolithgefässe aus Bergkristall,” Zeitschrift für Kunstgeschichte 8, nos. 5–6 (1939): 281–85; and A. Loewenthal, “Les grands
vases de cristal de roche et leur origine,” Gazette des Beaux-Arts, ser. 6, 11, no. 1 (1934): 43–48.

95
 Stefania Gerevini

Fig. 3 Findings from a 12th-century rock crystal workshop, Cologne,

Römisch-Germanisches Museum

in Europe by the Normans, who may have learned the
technique from Fatimid cutters in Sicily.31 The role of the
Normans has also been intensely debated in recent years.
Based on the survival of a small group of medieval rock
crystal artifacts in Sicily, it has been suggested that skilled
artists, possibly from Fatimid Egypt, reached Palermo.
However, evidence is not conclusive; and the practice of
other lapidary techniques—particularly porphyry carv-
ing—in Norman Sicily may not be taken as evidence that
quartz carvers were also active on the island.32
Whatever the trajectory of invention, transmission, or
imitation, the emergence of more sophisticated techniques
in continental Europe in the later Middle Ages suggests a
higher degree of experimentation on the side of Western
craftsmen handling rock crystal. Such growing confidence
is mirrored in coeval technical treatises, particularly the
thirteenth-century Doctrina poliendi pretiosos lapides.33
Unlike its antecedents, this treatise specifically refers to
rock crystal vasa (vessels), rather than merely gems or
knobs. Also, it instructs artisans to sculpt rock crystal
with grinding wheels (rotulae) of varying dimensions
made of lacquer and emery and mounted on a wooden
lathe.34 The text does not specify what type of lathe should
be utilized. Medieval turners commonly employed bow
lathes. These were operated by an assistant, who would
activate the rotary motion by pulling a horizontal bow.
Alternatively, the artist could work alone, sitting on the
ground and pulling the bow with his left hand while hold-
ing vessels or working tools in his right hand and in his feet.
Rock crystal carvers may have employed bow lathes. How-
ever, it is also possible that they benefited from the inven-
tion of the more comfortable and effective pole (or spring)
lathe, whose first visual attestations interestingly date to
the mid-thirteenth century. Pole lathes were operated with
pedals, with a cord running from treadle to overhead sap-
ling: they allowed artisans to work alone, and left their
hands free to handle and carve artworks with greater pre-
cision, as they stood or sat more comfortably on a stool.35

32 For a critical stance, see Johns and Morero, “The Diffusion of Rock Crystal Carving.” I also thank the authors for sharing insights from their work-
in-progress research. On porphyry, see Rudolf Distelberger, “I cristalli di rocca,” in Nobiles Officinae. Perle, filigrane e trame di seta dal Palazzo Reale
di Palermo, ed. Maria Andaloro, 2 vols. (Catania: Giuseppe Maimone Editore, 2006), 2:194–99 and 414–16.
33 Geoffroy Grassin, “Le travail des gemmes au XIIIe siècle dans la Doctrina poliendi pretiosos lapides,” Cahiers de Civilisation Médiévale 42, no. 166
(1999): 111–37, esp. §XII, 114 and 116.
34 Ibid., 114.
35 On the history of the lathe, see Robert Woodbury, History of the Lathe to 1850: A Study in the Growth of a Technical Element of an Industrial Economy
(Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 1961). See also Lynn Townsend White, Medieval Technology and Social Change (Oxford: Oxford University Press,

96
 Rock Crystal in the Medieval West: An Essay on Techniques and Workshops

The acquisition of new skills, perhaps derived from in-

tensified contacts between western Europe and foreign
centers of rock crystal production, might also have con-
tributed to improve the expertise of Western artists. After
all, both Paris and Venice, the most important centers of
rock crystal manufacture in the later Middle Ages, were
relevant commercial emporia; and Venice entertained priv-
ileged relationships with northern Africa and the Middle
East, where rock crystal could be quarried and where the
art of rock crystal cutting had flourished in previous cen-
turies. In this context, it seems particularly intriguing that
the Jowhar-nāma-ye neẓāmī, the earliest extant treatise on
gem cutting written in Persian (1195–96), mentions pro-
cedures and grinding wheels that are very similar to those
described in the thirteenth-century Doctrina poliendi.36
At the same time as rock crystal carving techniques be-
came more elaborate, the overall size of the market changed,
the variety of objects increased, and the organization of
workshops was also partly transformed. The manufacture
of rock crystal ostensibly became an increasingly secular
affair, practiced by lay artisans in urban workshops. Start-
ing from the mid-thirteenth century, these were also or- Fig. 4 Calcite vase split vertically to reveal drill core,
ganized into craft guilds, often regulated by municipal Late Period (ca. 664–332 BCE). London, UCL, The Petrie
authorities. At a first level, this is eloquent of the increased Museum of Egyptian Archaeology, inv. no. UC44993
importance of the industry of rock crystal carving in the
economies of late medieval Europe, and of the growing Our knowledge about crystal workshops in the thir-
dimensions of the market for its products, which included teenth century is largely based on the statutes of Parisian
both secular and religious patrons, and catered to the and Venetian artisans, organized in guilds since the mid-
needs of increasingly diversified categories of buyers, both century.38 In Paris, where late medieval royal inventories
locally and internationally. However, at another level, it is reveal the privileged status that rock crystal vessels en-
also suggestive of new mechanisms of transmission of ar- joyed at court, practicing the art of quartz carving did not
tisanal knowledge, which was transferred orally, from mas- require any licenses.39 On the contrary, the rules set out by
ter to apprentice, and of a new attitude toward crafts and the municipality in 1268 indicate that anyone who proved
their exercise, whose economic exploitation, newly per- to be capable of cutting and carving rock crystal, alone or
ceived as “property” by municipal authorities, began to in combination with other precious stones, was allowed to
rest on secrecy, on the restricted mobility of artisans, and practice the craft. However, workshop activity was care-
on the protection of the craft by the state.37 fully regulated: each artisan was only allowed to have one

1964), 117–18. Simpler bow lathes, used by artisans to create dice and chess pieces, are instead represented in a thirteenth-century manuscript of
Alfonso X’s Juegos de ajedrez, dados y tabla (1251–83): Real Biblioteca del Monasterio de San Lorenzo del Escorial, T.I.6, fols. 3r and 73r. The same
manuscript also shows a carver at work at his desk (fol. 23r) and the piercing of a dice with a mechanic drill (fol. 65v). On the techniques and tools
employed to cut and engrave glass and hardstones, see also R. J. Charleston, “Wheel-Engraving and -Cutting: Some Early Equipment. 1. Engraving,”
Journal of Glass Studies 6 (1964): 83–100; and R. J. Charleston, “Wheel-Engraving and -Cutting: Some Early Equipment. 2. Water Power and Cut-
ting,” Journal of Glass Studies 7 (1965): 41–60.
36 On the Jowhar-nāma-ye neẓāmī, see Parviz Mohebbi, “Gemcutting,” in Encyclopaedia Iranica, ed. Ehsan Yarshater (London: Routledge; Boston:
Kegan Paul, 2001), 10.4:397–98, http://www.iranicaonline.org/articles/gem-cutting-.
37 Long, Openness, Secrecy, Authorship, esp. 88–92.
38 See Hahnloser and Brugger-Koch, Corpus der Hartsteinschliffe, 25–30 for a discussion of other centers of manufacture, for which extent evidence is
either significantly later, or missing.
39 See Susanne Brugger-Koch, “Venedig und Paris – die wichtigsten Zentren des hochmittelalterlichen Hartsteinschliffs im Spiegel der Quellen. Hart-
steinschliffe als Prunkstücke der Fürsten – ausgewählte Schatzverzeichnisse des 15. Jahrhunderts,” Zeitschrift des Deutschen Vereins für Kunstwissen-
schaft 40 (1986): 3–39. For a survey of rock crystal artifacts in French royal inventories of the fourteenth century, see the compilation in Carl Johan
Lamm, Mittelalterliche Gläser und Steinschnittarbeiten aus dem Nahen Osten, 2 vols., Forschungen zur islamischen Kunst, 5, ed. Friedrich Sarre
(Berlin: Dietrich Reimer; Ernst Vohsen, 1929–30), 1:520–21, with bibliographic references.

97
 Stefania Gerevini

5 6

Figs. 5–7 Reliquary, ca. 1220–30. Cologne, Kolumba Museum (previously Cathedral
Treasury)

98
 Rock Crystal in the Medieval West: An Essay on Techniques and Workshops

apprentice at a time. Apprenticeship was a long affair that
lasted a total of ten to twelve years, at the end of which
period the apprentice was released and could practice the
profession on his own. Intriguingly, widowed women ap-
pear to have been allowed to practice the craft in their late
husband’s workshop. However, they were not allowed to
keep trainees or take up new ones. As was the case with
most other crafts, crystal carvers were forbidden from
running their business at night, or on feast days. And they
were warned against dying crystal with pigments: these
dyed gems or artworks were considered forgeries. As such,
they had to be destroyed, and the craftsman fined.40
Similar—though more elaborate—rules applied to
rock crystal carvers in Venice.41 The earliest surviving
statutes of the arte dei cristallai in the lagoon dates from
1284. New rules and amendments were added to it in sub-
sequent decades, while a vernacular edition of the regula-
tions was issued in 1319 that was also successively ex-
panded. The basic structure of these statutes is similar to
the Parisian text: the different rubrics address questions
of quality control, counterfeiting, opening times, sourcing
and distribution of raw materials among artisans, work-
shop organization, and craft transmission. Venetian crys-
tal carvers were allowed to train up to two apprentices at
a time.42 They were obliged to register their apprentices
with the arte, within a fortnight from the beginning of
their employment;43 and they were to retain their appren-
tices for at least eight years.44 Interestingly, the vernacular
edition of the statutes (1319) explicitly mentions female
apprentices, too—an indication, perhaps, that the craft
could also be practiced by women in the city.45 Venetian
regulatory authorities appear to have been overwhelm-
ingly concerned with the protection of craft knowledge,
and with the retention of skilled artists in the city. Any
crystal carver who left Venice to practice his art elsewhere
was made to pay a fine; and foreign artisans who wished
to work in Venice were due to pay a license fee.46 Further-
more, Venetian crystal carvers were forbidden from en-
tering a business partnership with non-members, with
the aim of acquiring quartz, or for the fulfillment of any
other goal that might prove detrimental to the members
of the guild—providing indirect indication that rock crys-
tal carving represented an increasingly competitive and
(presumably) lucrative industry, which attracted a vast
array of tradesmen and clients.47
Conclusions
Taken together, the material and textual sources intro-
duced in this essay considerably enhance our knowledge
of the techniques by which transparent quartz was cut,
carved, engraved, and polished between the seventh and
the thirteenth century. They also offer useful vantage
points from which to explore the interactions between
technical knowledge and textual transmission, the role of
artisanal crafts and their products in the definition and
transformation of broad aesthetic values, and the impact
that different socioeconomic structures had on the orga-
nization and exploitation of technical knowledge.
Nevertheless, several issues await further investigation.
A threshold consideration is that the very project of ex-
amining the developments of the Western medieval rock
crystal industry as distinct, and separate, from Roman,
Byzantine, or Islamic productions and technical knowledge
is—to an extent—an artifice. The sourcing of raw material,
the trade of finished objects, and the circulation and reuse
of earlier artworks depended on long-distance connec-
tions across the Mediterranean. In this context, it is plau-
sible that craft knowledge also traveled, though the trajec-
tories and mechanisms of its transmission remain unclear.
The precise reasons why the epicenters of rock crystal
carving in Europe moved over time are equally obscure.
Artisans in the Meuse-Rhine region led the industry in

40 René de Lespinasse and François Bonnardot, eds., Les métiers et les corporations de la ville de Paris. XIIIe siècle. Le livre des métiers d’Etienne Boileau
(Paris: Imprimerie nationale, 1879), 61–63. See also Anciens Statuts des maistres lapidaires, dressez sous le règne de Saint Louis qui se trouvent au plus
ancien registre du Chastelet de l’an 1290 (Paris: n.p., 1332), available online at https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/bpt6k9618200q.r=Anciens%20
Statuts%20des%20maistres%20lapidaires%2C%20dressez?rk=21459;2 (accessed June 5, 2019).
41 Giovanni Monticolo, ed., I capitolari delle arti veneziane. Sottoposte alla Giustizia e poi alla Giustizia Vecchia: dalle origini al MCCCXXX, 3 vols.
(Rome Forzani e c. tip del Senato, 1896–1914), 3:123–38 (Latin) and 3:138–52 (vernacular). Discussions of Venetian workshop practices may be
found in Hans R. Hahnloser, “Opere di tagliatori veneziani di cristallo di rocca e di pietre dure del medioevo in Toscana,” in Civiltà delle arti minori
in Toscana. Atti del I Convegno sulle arti minori in Toscana: Arezzo 11–15 Maggio 1971 (Florence: EDAM, 1973), 155–59; and Hans R. Hahnloser,
“Scola et artes cristellariorum de Veneciis, 1284–1319: Opus venetum ad filum,” in Venezia e L’Europa. Atti del XVIII Congresso internazionale di
storia dell’arte (Venice: Arte Veneta, 1956), 157–65; and, recently, Michela Agazzi, “L’opera dei cristalleri. Cristalli di rocca, diaspri, oreficerie e reli-
quie a Venezia (secc. XIII–XIV),” Hortus Artium Medievalium 22 (2016): 145–56.
42 Monticolo, Capitolari, 3:124.
43 Ibid., 3:132 and 3:141.
44 Ibid., 3:124–25.
45 Ibid., 3:141, and 3:146 for another direct reference to the existence of women artisans in the city.
46 Ibid., 3:129.
47 Ibid., 3:131.

99
 Stefania Gerevini
the early centuries. However, they subsequently appear to
have been superseded, in part, by new workshops in the
urban centers of Paris, Venice, and, later, Prague. Also the
role of the Iberian Peninsula—where several rock crystal
artifacts have been preserved—within the geography of
medieval quartz carving awaits more thorough investiga-
tions. As was the case for other luxury arts, rock crystal
carving seems to have developed in areas with higher
concentrations of wealth and commercial traffic. Howev-
er, the availability of raw materials may have played a part
in sustaining, or crippling, the industry. Despite much re-
cent research, the location of medieval rock crystal quar-
ries remains uncertain: quartz was locally available in the
Meuse-Rhine region, in the form of smaller crystals;
quarries in the Alps are known to have been exploited
since Roman times. However, larger quartz blocks were
necessary to carve vessels and reliquaries. These were rar-
er, and may have been sourced further afield, perhaps
from Madagascar, or from India.48 This might explain
why Venice and Paris, both of which had close connec-
tions with the eastern Mediterranean, became capitals of
rock crystal carving in the thirteenth century, the apogee
of medieval commercial history.
In addition, the relationship between rock crystal cut-
ting and carving, and other medieval luxury arts, has re-
mained underexplored. For instance, the interconnections
between rock crystal carving and glassmaking have drawn
some scholarly attention, particularly in relation to such
48 See the essay by Stéphane Pradines in this volume.
49 For a summary of scholarly debates about the Hedwig beakers, and comprehensive bibliography (updated to 2011), see the entry “Hedwig Beakers”
written by David Whitehouse for the website of the Corning Museum of Art: https://www.cmog.org/article/hedwig-beakers (accessed June 5, 2019).
100
enigmatic objects as the Hedwig beakers.49 However, our
understanding of the interdependencies between the two
crafts is still incomplete, and evidence—where it sur-
vives—indicates that glassmakers and crystal carvers be-
longed to different artistic guilds. Furthermore, rock crys-
tal was seldom used alone: in the earlier centuries, quartz
elements were routinely employed alongside other pre-
cious gemstones, antique cameos, and intaglios to embel-
lish objects made of gold and silver. In later centuries,
rock crystal was also used to make whole objects—but
even then, a collaboration with other artisans was neces-
sary: to produce the metal mounts of reliquaries and ves-
sels; to provide the wooden structure of game boards or
devotional panels; to paint the miniatures on parchment
that would be inserted in elaborate portable altars and
crosses. Who designed these artifacts? Who managed the
overall project—goldsmiths, hardstone carvers, painters,
carpenters, or other categories of artists?
Finally, the majority of surviving rock crystal artworks
in western Europe were originally intended for, or later
converted to, religious use. As a consequence, scholarship
has placed greater emphasis on the religious symbolism of
the material and on its implications for our understand-
ing of medieval devotional and spiritual attitudes. By con-
trast, our knowledge about secular objects, and about the
aesthetic and functional values of transparency outside of
the religious realm, is far less comprehensive. Future re-
search can be fruitfully conducted in this secular space.