Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Chapter 16
From Icon and Word: the power of images in Byzantium. Studies presented to Robin Cormack, eds. Antony Eastmond and Liz James.
© 2003 by contributors. Published by Ashgate Publishing Ltd, Gower House, Croft Road, Aldershot, Hampshire, GU11
3HR, Great Britain, pp. 269-85.
262 Maria Evangelatou
however, the basket is usually omitted from the composition. In most cases,
Mary holds the spindle, whether she is shown seated or standing before the
heavenly messenger who approaches her. 3 As is well known, the theme of
the spun purple skein in Annunciation scenes is inspired by chapters 10-11
in the apocryphal Protevangelion of James, which says (my italics): ‘Now there
was a council of the priests, and they said: Let us make a veil for the temple of
the Lord. And the priest said: Call unto me pure virgins of the tribe of David.
And the officers departed and sought and found seven virgins. And the
priests called to mind the child Mary, that she was of the tribe of David and was
undefiled before God: and the officers went and fetched her. And they brought
them into the temple of the Lord, and the priest said: Cast me lots, which of
you shall weave the gold and the undefiled (the white) and the fine linen and
the silk and the hyacinthine, and the scarlet and the true purple. And the lot of
the true purple and the scarlet fell unto Mary, and she took them and went unto
her house…’ 4 According to the Protevangelion, when Gabriel entered Mary’s
house to announce the joyous news of the Incarnation of the Logos, she was
spinning the purple skein. 5
When Byzantinists comment upon this story, they emphasise the fact that
Mary’s involvement in the spinning of the threads for the Temple veil
proves two fundamental ‘truths’ of the Christian dogma: Mary’s virginity at
the time of the Annunciation, and her descent from the house of David. The
scarlet and especially the purple colour of the skeins entrusted to the Virgin
are also seen as alluding to the royal status of Mary and her son. 6
A number of scholars have also considered the purple yarn as a symbol of
the Incarnation in the case of one particular image of the Annunciation: the
late-twelfth-century icon now in the Monastery of St Catherine on Mount
Sinai (fig. 1). The elaborate iconographic details of this painting are
frequently mentioned in scholarly literature for some details are rare or
unique in the surviving corpus of Byzantine art. They are interpreted as
reflecting expressions often employed in Byzantine hymns and homilies
dedicated to the Virgin. 7 The warm golden light that suffuses the whole
composition, comprising the incorporeal angel, is taken to signify the
supernatural light of the divinity descending on earth at the time of the
Incarnation. As Belting observes of the icon: ‘Only Mary, who is to give a
body to the ‘incorporeal Word’, has a solid blue and a deep purple-brown on
her garments. She is weaving the temple curtain in the colour of blood like a
garment for the Logos, who took on “fleshy existence from the Holy Spirit
and from her blood”.’ 8 Likewise, Weyl-Carr writes that, in this icon, Mary is
‘fingering the blood red fabric of the temple veil, symbol of the veil of
mortal flesh that she will cast over God’s divinity.’ 9
The Purple Thread of the Flesh 263
through the sacrificial offering of his own blood on the Cross, washes away
the sins of mankind, and lifts the veil of the Temple so that everyone can
enter in the true Holy of Holies and see God (esp. Hebrews 6:19-20 and
Hebrews 9-10). 14
Paul specifically mentions that the way to the Holy of Holies was opened
to all Christians ‘through the veil (καταπέτασμα), that is, Christ’s body’
(Hebrews 10:20). This concept was repeated and further elaborated, by,
among others, John Chrysostom, Kosmas Indikopleustes, John of
Damascus, and Patriarch Photios. 15 They saw the Temple veil as a type of
the human nature Christ took from his mother in order to dress his divinity
and become known to the world. 16 Thus the veil of Christ’s flesh was the
vehicle of the Incarnation through which God revealed himself to all
mankind, and through which he could die and rise again to offer his
salvation to all who believed in him. As the Acts of the Seventh Ecumenical
Council put it, ‘The name “Christ” implies two natures, the one being visible
and the other invisible. Thus this Christ, while visible to men by means of
the veil (καταπέτασμα), that is his flesh, made the divine nature – even though
this remained concealed – manifest through signs.’ 17
Inherent in this symbolism of divine revelation through the veil-flesh of
Christ is the tradition found in various ancient and medieval cultures of the
concealment or revelation of God, the emperor, or sacred objects behind
curtains. 18 This tradition lived on in Byzantium as part of state and Church
ceremonial, in imperial audiences, in the liturgy, and in the case of
miraculous images. 19 One of the most famous examples of this kind is the
‘usual miracle’ that was expected to take place every Friday in the Church of
the Blachernai in Constantinople. 20 Here the veil hanging in front of a
venerable icon of the Virgin and Child miraculously lifted itself to reveal the
sacred image. Intrinsic to this miracle seems to be the idea of the Temple
veil being lifted to reveal the truth of the Incarnation. 21 In this respect, it
was probably indicative of the significance of the miracle that it occurred on
Friday, the day the Temple veil was torn asunder at the time of Christ’s
death on the Cross. 22
In medieval art, both in Byzantium and the West, the motif of curtains
drawn aside is frequently used to symbolize the revelation of God through
the Incarnation of the Logos in Christ. Open curtains or a spread veil are
often employed as symbolic of the Incarnation in various scenes related to
the Annunciation, the Conception and the Nativity, and in representations
of the Virgin and Child, or the Evangelists who announced the Incarnation
of the Saviour to the world. 23 For example, in the iconographic type of the
Kykkotissa, documented in Byzantine art from the twelfth century onwards,
the Christ Child holds tightly the veil covering Mary’s head. This has been
interpreted by Belting as symbolizing the Incarnation in relation to the
Temple veil and the ‘veil of the flesh’ that the Theotokos cast on Christ’s
divinity. 24 In some icons of the Kykkotissa, 25 the veil is decorated with the
The Purple Thread of the Flesh 265
garment of the Virgin’s flesh, and that Mary’s spinning the purple thread in
images of the Annunciation was probably seen as a visual expression of this
idea. According to the textual evidence presented here, the purple thread
spun by the Theotokos not only symbolizes the Incarnation, but places
emphasis on a basic dogma of the Orthodox Church, the union of Christ’s
two natures in one hypostasis. 36 In this context the purple colour of the
thread/cloth mentioned in the literature (or the red colour of the yarn
shown in the pictorial representations) is a reference both to the flesh
(human nature) and to the royal dignity (divine nature) of Christ. 37
A small number of Annunciation images give particular emphasis to the
purple thread in the Virgin’s hands, further sustaining the hypothesis that
this object had symbolical meaning in the eyes of the Byzantines. In these
images the Virgin points her spindle towards a small container that rests on
her lap, just in front of her womb. These images include the early twelfth-
century wall-painting of the Annunciation in the church of the Theotokos in
Trikomo (fig. 2); 38 the mosaic of the same subject in St Mary of the Admiral
(Martorana) in Palermo, ca. 1146-51 (fig. 3); 39 the late twelfth-century Sinai
icon mentioned above (fig. 1); and a double-sided fourteenth-century icon
with the Hodegetria and the Annunciation from the church of the Virgin
Perilbleptos in Ochrid (fig. 4), now in the National Museum in Belgrade
(inv. no. 2316). 40 Little has been said about this container. In the case of the
Sinai icon it is rarely mentioned. 41 In the other cases, the object on the
Virgin’s lap is considered a basket (or more vaguely a ‘container’) for yarn. 42
However, in these images, the vessel shown has nothing to do with the big
basket that in earlier representations of the Annunciation was often depicted
next to Mary. In those cases the object shown was clearly a basket made of
reed or other interwoven material, and it contained the skein and sometimes
even the Virgin’s spinning instruments. 43 In the Middle- and Late-Byzantine
images discussed here the container is much smaller and seems to be made
of metal. 44 In the Sinai icon the vessel has a rather peculiar shape,
resembling a scalloped shell. In the Trikomo wall-painting and the icon from
Peribleptos the container looks like a cup.
In these four images the object has a symbolic meaning that can be
understood if we take into account its relation to the Virgin’s body and the
purple thread she is holding. In all four cases, the vessel rests on Mary’s lap
just in front of her womb. In the Martorana mosaic (fig. 3) the spindle
hanging from the thread which the Theotokos is holding in her right hand is
shown suspended diagonally in mid-air, pointing towards the opening of the
vessel that stands further to the right of the composition. In the other three
images, the Virgin herself points the spindle towards the opening of the
The Purple Thread of the Flesh 267
vessel. I would suggest that we are dealing with a symbol of the virginal
womb in which Christ will wear the robe of human nature without the
intervention of man. The ‘seedless conception’ seems alluded to by the
combination of Mary’s gesture, pointing the spindle with the purple thread
downwards into the vessel, and the descent of the Holy Ghost, pointing the
pure body of the Virgin with rays of divine light. 45 In the two icons, the rays
of light fall upon the same diagonal axis with Mary’s hands and the direction
of her gesture (figs 1, 4). In the Martorana mosaic (fig. 3), the suspension of
the spindle in the air, pointing towards the vessel, is unexplainable by
physical laws, but can be explained as a manifestations of the miraculous
event of the Incarnation through the grace of the Holy Ghost – shown as a
dove descending upon the Virgin. The robe of human nature Christ took
from his mother is indeed considered symbol of the immaculate conception
in a number of Byzantine hymns and homilies. 46
This interpretation of the vessel finds ample support in the patristic
literature of Byzantium dedicated to the Mother of God. It is a topos in
homilietic and hymnographic texts to describe the Theotokos as a container
of the incarnated Logos. Some of the most commonly used types of the
Virgin are the Tabernacle which housed the sacred objects of the Jewish
religion, the ark which contained the tablets of the law, the golden jar of the
manna, and the golden censer of perfumed incense. 47 All these types are
based on the idea of the Theotokos as container of Christ the true ark, the
living law, the heavenly manna, the incense that purifies the world. In all of
them, the age-old perception of the fertile female body as container of life is
apparent. One of the commonest characterizations of Mary in Byzantine
hymns and homilies is ‘the one who in her womb contained the
uncontainable’. 48 Additionally, the Theotokos is regularly called ‘vessel’
(σκεύος) or ‘container/receptacle’ (δοχεῖον) of the incarnated Logos. She is the
‘receptacle of the wisdom of God’, 49 ‘the mortal vessel of the immortal
God’, 50 and ‘the container… in essence of the hypostasis of the Son and
God’ 51 , to cite three examples from many. 52 The frequency with which such
expression appear in the Byzantine homilies and hymns dedicated to the
Virgin, texts that were regularly read or chanted in the church, suggests the
concept of the Theotokos as vessel and container of the incarnated Logos
was another well-known one. Thus it is plausible that a Byzantine viewer
would recognize the object on Mary’s lap in these four images as a symbol
of the virginal body, the instrument of the Incarnation.
The particular way in which the vessel is shown in each of these images
deserves further comment. Its golden colour in the two icons and the
Martorana mosaic may be related to the precious and pure material of which
the sacred vessels of the Jewish Temple, types of the Theotokos, were also
made. In the Martorana mosaic, the rounded container is rendered gold on
the outside and red on the inside, the same blood red of the purple thread in
the Virgin’s hands. The impression is of a vessel containing a red liquid,
268 Maria Evangelatou
which may be identified with the eucharistic wine, Christ’s blood taken up in
Mary’s womb to be spilt on the Cross for the salvation of the world. This
may be relevant to the positioning of the scene of the Annunciation, not
only in the Martorana but also in a great number of Middle- and Late-
Byzantine churches, in the eastern part of the church, flanking or
surmounting the area of the bema, or in the bema itself, and on the two
wings of the sanctuary door leading into the bema, where the Eucharistic re-
enactment of Christ’s Incarnation and Sacrifice was regularly performed. 53
This placement emphasizes the relation of the Annunciation, the first stage
in the history of the Incarnation, with Christ’s mission on earth and its
continuation through the mysteries of the Church. It also underlines the
analogy between the descent of the Holy Ghost to transform Mary’s virginal
womb into the dwelling of the incarnated Logos, and the descent of the
Holy Ghost to transubstantiate the bread and wine of the Eucharist into
Christ’s flesh and blood. 54
Writing about the Sinai and the Novgorod icons, Pentcheva observes that
the combination of the image of the infant Christ and the purple thread of
the Temple veil as metaphor of the cloth of human nature connects the
Annunciation to the Crucifixion, the Incarnation to the Sacrifice. This is
because the Byzantine viewer would recall that the Temple veil, type of
Christ’s body, was torn asunder at the time of his human death on the
Cross. 55 A similar recollection might cross the mind of Byzantine viewers
looking at the purple thread in Mary’s hands. This would be true especially
of Annunciation scenes related to the area of the bema, where the
connection between Christ’s Incarnation and Sacrifice was inherent in the
symbolism of the space.
In the Trikomo scene of the Annunciation, 56 and in the icon from
Peribleptos, an emphatic reference to Christ’s Sacrifice may be made
through the shape of the vessel on the Virgin’s lap, which is reminiscent of a
eucharistic chalice. As the one who gave flesh and blood to the sacrificial
Lamb, the Theotokos is called ‘cup of salvation’, an obvious reference to the
eucharistic chalice. 57 In Byzantine homilies and hymns, she is also compared
to a krater, 58 a vessel in which wine is mixed with water (likewise to the
eucharistic chalice which also contains wine and water). In the relevant texts
this krater is said to provide bliss, rejoicing and everlasting life, or to contain
the wine of salvation and remission of sins – Christ’s eucharistic blood. It is
evident that in these cases the Theotokos is described as the eucharistic
chalice. This is clearly spelt out in the fourth homily on the Annunciation by
Andrew of Crete, where the Virgin is ‘the fruit from which the living bread,
the Lord’s body, is brought forth; and the crater of immortality, which
shows forth the drink of salvation’. 59 The exaltation of Mary’s role in the
Incarnation through a more or less explicit reference to the mystery of the
Eucharist appears in a number of Byzantine homilies on the Annunciation. 60
Of similar eucharistic connotations are the commonplace in Byzantine
The Purple Thread of the Flesh 269
familiar not only with the textual but also with the pictorial function of the
purple thread as symbol of the human body Christ took from his mother,
and that this symbolic connotation would be attributed to the yarn held by
the Virgin in Annunciation scenes even when the vessel was not shown on
her lap. Moreover, although the iconographic element of the vessel remains
very rare in the surviving corpus of Byzanine art, the geographic and
chronological provenance of the four works under discussion may suggest
that initially this iconography was more widely known, and that it probably
originated from Constantinople. The Trikomo wall-painting, 68 the
Martorana mosaics, 69 and the Sinai icon, 70 have been assigned to
Constantinopolitan artists of the twelfth century. The icon from Peribleptos
has been attributed to a fourteenth-century workshop in Thessaloniki. 71
Further, with the exception of the Sinai icon for which we do not have
secure evidence, the other three paintings were made for churches dedicated
to the Virgin – a fitting environment for iconographic solutions emphasizing
Mary’s role in the Incarnation.
But to what extent would the ‘average’ Byzantine viewer invest with
symbolic meaning iconographic details that can be also explained only as
narrative elements of the composition? It is the simplicity of these images,
taken from nature or from every-day life, that makes us wonder whether we
should interpret them symbolically or not; but again it is their simplicity that
makes them successful symbols, in other words clearly comprehensible signs
of complex theological ideas or dogmas unexplainable through logic, such as
the Incarnation of the Logos. The exact relation of Christ’s two unconfused
and undivided natures united in one hypostasis, and the role of the Virgin in
the miracle of the Incarnation, were issues of long disputes among the
Fathers of the Church, gradually clarified by a number of Ecumenical
Councils and patristic treatises. Such disputes were far beyond the grasp of
most people. But the main dogma of Orthodox Christianity that the Logos
was incarnated in Mary’s womb, taking from his mother the human nature
that would be sacrificed for the salvation of mankind, was an idea every
Christian could recognize as a foundation of his or her faith. The
comparison of the Theotokos to the receptacle of the Logos, the weaver of
the human nature with which Christ would dress his divinity, the shell that
through lightning and the union of fire and water would bear the heavenly
pearl, and so on, were all images that both in their textual and their visual
form expressed in simple terms understandable to the public the most basic
aspects of the Incarnation. 72 The frequent use of such metaphors in
Byzantine hymns and homilies suggests that people were familiar with them
and would recognize them in their visual form as well, not simply because
the images illustrated the texts, but because both illustrated their epoch. 73
The Purple Thread of the Flesh 271
* I would like to thank Liz James for making valuable suggestions and correcting my English; and
Patricia Skotti for her insightful comments and indispensable help in abbreviating the first version
of this article. It goes without saying that responsibility for all mistakes and shortcomings lies
entirely with me.
1 G. Schiller, Ikonographie der christlichen Kunst, Gütersloh 1966, I, 44-47; K. D. Kalokyris, Ἡ Θεοτόκος
εἰς τὴν εἰκονογραφίαν Ἀνατολής καὶ Δύσεως, Thessalonike 1972, 115-16.
2 For examples see Schiller, Ikonographie, 45-47, figs 66, 68, 70-73, 156; Age of Spirituality, Late Antique
and Early Christian Art, Third to Seventh Century (exhibition catalogue), ed. K. Weitzmann New York
1979, 498-99, cat. no. 448; Mother of God. Representations of the Virgin in Byzantium (exhibition
catalogue), ed. M. Vassilaki, Athens and Milan 2000, 269, cat. no. 5, and 290-91, cat. no. 10.
3 Kalokyris, Θεοτόκος, 115-16.
4 Chapter 10. Greek text edited by C. Tischendorf, Evangelia Apocrypha, Lipsiae 1876, 20-21. English
translation taken from P. A. Underwood, The Kariye Djami (Bollingen Series 70), Princeton 1975, I,
76-77. (When not mentioned otherwise, translations of Greek texts are mine. In these cases my
intention is only to render the content of the translated passages with the maximum precision and
minimum pretensions to literary style.)
5 Chapter 11, Tischendorf, Apocrypha, 22.
6 Underwood, Kariye Djami, 94.
7 K. Weitzmann, ‘Eine spätkomnenische Verkündigungsikone des Sinai und die zweite byzantinische
Welle des 12. Jahrhunderts’, in Festschrift für Herbert von Einem, ed. G. von der Osten and G.
Kauffmann, Berlin 1965, 299-312, esp. 302 (repr. in Studies in the Arts at Sinai. Essays by K.
Weitzmann, Princeton 1982, X [271-83, esp. 274]; H. Maguire, Art and Eloquence in Byzantium,
Princeton 1981, 49-51; H. Belting, Likeness and Presence. A History of the Image before the Era of Art,
Chicago and London 1994, 278; A. Weyl-Carr in The Glory of Byzantium. Art and Culture of the Middle
Byzantine Era, A.D. 843-1261 (exhibition catalogue), New York 1997, 374, cat. no. 246.
8 Belting Likeness and Presence, 278.
9 The Glory of Byzantium, 374.
10 For a good coloured photo of this detail see P. L. Vokotopoulos, Ελληνική Τέχνη. Βυζαντινές Εικόνες,
Amphilochia, I-III, Leipzig 1983-85, I, 163-64 (epistle 125:21-48), Fragmenta in Lucam, PG 101,
1226. Kessler, ‘Art as Argument’, 64-65, mentions some of the above texts.
16 Besides the texts mentioned above, see also: Theodoret, In psalmos, PG 89, 1193AB (Psalm 44:9-
10); Basil of Seleukia, In Annuntiationem, PG 85, 433B. See also G. W. Lampe, A Patristic Greek
Lexicon, Oxford 1961, 714, ‘καταπέτασμα’, 3.e; H. Papastavrou, ‘Le voile, symbole de
l’Incarnation. Contribution à une étude sémantique’, CA 41 (1993), 41-43, esp. the texts
mentioned in n. 12, p.162.
17 G. D. Mansi, Sacrorum conciliorum nova et amplissima collectio, I-XXX, Florence – Vienna 1759-98, repr.
Paris – Leipzig 1901-27, XIII, 340D; English translation by D. J. Sahas, Icon and Logos: Sources in
Eighth-Century Iconoclasm. An annotated translation of the Sixth Session of the Seventh Ecumenical Council,
Toronto 1986, 156-57.
18 A. Grabar, ‘Un fresque visigothique et l’iconographie du silence’, CA 1 (1945), 125-28 (repr. in
L’art de la fin de l’antiquité et du moyen age, Paris 1968, 583-88); B. A. Siegerl, Der Vorhang der
Sixtinischen Madonna. Herkunft und Beduteung eines Motivs der Marienkikonographie, Zurich 1977, where
the iconography of the veil from Antiquity until the Renaissance is examined; the same theme,
with examples taken from Byzantine art or related artistic traditions, is discussed by J. K.
Eberlein, ‘The Curtain in Rapahel’s Sistine Madonna’, ArtB 65 (1983), 61-77, esp. 65-70, figs 10-
11. See also Papastavrou, ‘Le voile’.
19 T. F. Mathews, The Early Churches of Constantinople, Architecture and Liturgy, University Park - London
1971, 162-71, and R. F. Taft, A History of the Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom, II, The Great Entrance, A
History of the Transfer of Gifts and other Pre-anaphoral Rites, Rome 1978, 209-10, 244-49, for the use of
veils to conceal the holy gifts or the altar in the liturgy. (Cf. Germanos of Constantinople,
Ecclesiastical History, ed. and trans. P. Meyendorff, St Germanus of Constantinople. On the Divine Liturgy,
New York 1984, 88-91 [§41]. He relates the aer, the liturgical veil covering the eucharistic bread
and wine, to the Temple veil – by quoting Hebrews 10:19-21.) For the use of curtains in Byzantine
imperial ceremonials see Mathews, Early Churches, 164. On the veils of icons, see V. Nunn, ‘The
Encheirion as an Adjunct to the icon in the Middle Byzantine Period’, BMGS 10 (1986), 73-102.
20 See Pentcheva, ‘Rhetorical images’, 45 f., with previous bibliography.
21 Cf. Pentcheva, ‘Rhetorical images’, 50.
22 Cf. Michael Pselos’ reference to the miracle in connection to Hebrews (Greek text and English
translation in Pentcheva, ‘Rhetorical images’, 46).
23 For examples see Eberlein, ‘Curtain’; Papastavrou, ‘Le voile’’.
24 Belting, Likeness and Presence, 291. See also Papastavrou, ‘Le voile’’, 156-61.
25 As, for example, a thirteenth-century icon now in the Byzantine Museum of the Holy Bishopric of
Paphos (Mother of God, 350-51, cat. no. 36).
26 For representations of the Temple veil, or of images related to it, where the diapered pattern
appears, see Kessler, ‘Art as Argument’, 63-66, figs 2, 4-8.
27 Examples by Andrew of Crete, In nativitatem B. Mariae, PG 877D, 879A; Theodore Studite, In
dormitionem Deiparae, PG 99, 721D; Leo VI, In B. Mariae annuntiationem, PG 107, 25D; James of
Kokkinobaphos, In praesentationem SS. Deiparae, PG 127, 608D. See also Eustratiades, Ἡ Θεοτόκος
ἐν τῇ ὑμνογραφίᾳ, Paris 1930, 33, ‘καταπέτασμα’.
28 See, for example, Eustratiades, Θεοτόκος, 71-72, ‘σκηνὴ’; J. Ledit, Marie dans la liturgie de Byzance,
Paris 1976, 77-78.
29 N. P. Constas, ‘Weaving the Body of God: Proclus of Constantinople, the Theotokos, and the
Loom of the Flesh’, Journal of Early Christian Studies 3, no. 2 (1995), 164-194.
30 See especially his Oratio I, De laudibus S. Mariae, PG 65, 681B, and his Oratio IV, In natalem diem
domini, PG 65, 712C (English translation by Constas, ‘Proclos’, 182-83).
31 Oration VI, De laudibus S. Mariae, PG 65, 724A-C.
The Purple Thread of the Flesh 273
32 M. Aubineaude, ‘La tunique sans couture du Christ. Exégèse patristique de Jean 19,23-24’, in
Kyriakon. Festschrift Johannes Quasten, I-II, ed. P. Granfield and J. A. Jungmann, Münster 1970, I,
111-16; S. Brock, ‘Clothing metaphors as a means of theological expression in Syriac tradition’, in
Typus, Symbol, Allegorie bei den östlichen Vätern und ihren Parallelen im Mittelalter, ed. M. Schmidt,
Regensburg 1982 (reprinted in S. Brock, Studies in Syriac Christianity. History, Literature and Theology,
Variorum 1992, XI); Papastavrou, ‘Le voile’’, 142; Constas, ‘Proclos’, 181-85 (where various
aspects of the tradition of weaving and clothing metaphors in the Greco-Roman culture are also
discussed).
33 For some examples see: Akathistos Hymn, oikos 7 and 13 (PG 92, 1339C, 1341D); John
Chrysostom, In incarnationem domini (spuria), PG 59, 695; Proclos of Contantinople, Oratio I, De
laudibus S. Mariae, PG 65,688D, Oratio II, De incarnatione domini, PG 65, 708A, Oratio IV, In natalem
diem domini, PG 65, 712A, Oratio VI, De laudibus S. Mariae, PG 65, 733A, 741A, 748A, 756B; Basil
of Seleukia, In SS. Deiparae annuntiationem, PG 85, 432C, 433B, 437C, 445C; Antipatros of Bostra,
In S. Joannem Baptistam, PG 85, 1765B, 1772C, 1776A, In SS. Deiparae Annuntiationem, PG 85,
1781B, 1789B, 1789C; John of Damascus, In nativitatem, B. V. Mariae II, PG 96, 681A; Andrew of
Crete, Canon in B. Mariae nativitatem, PG 97, 1320A, Magnus Canon, PG 97, 1357B, Canon in
Lazarum, PG 97, 1397D; Germanos of Constantinople, In S. Mariae zonam, PG 98, 373C; Cosmas
the Hymnographer, Hymni, PG 98, 493B; George of Nikomedeia, In SS. Mariae praesentationem, PG
100, 1416BC, 1417B; Photios of Constantinople, On the Annunciation (I, §7), ed. B. Laourdas,
Φωτίου Ὁμιλίαι, Thessaliniki 1959, 61:10-11, English translation by C. Mango, The Homilies of
Photius, Patriarch of Constantinople, Cambridge Massachusetts 1958, 121; Joseph the Hymnographer,
Mariale, PG 105, 1005A, 1045C, 1100D-1101A, 1109CD, 1133C, 1144C, 1220A, 1225C, 1237D,
1240A, 1321B; Leo VI, In B. Mariae assumptionem, PG 107, 164A; James Kokkinobaphos, In
conceptionem SS. Deiparae, PG 127, 573A, In nativitatem SS. Deiparae, PG 127, 576C, 593CD, In
praesentationem SS. Deiparae, PG 127, 600C-601A; Isidoros of Thessaloniki, In dormitionem B. V.
Mariae, PG 139, 149AB. See also Eustratiades, Θεοτόκος, 22, ‘ἔνδυμα’; 30, ‘ἱστός’; 82, ‘ὑφάνασα’;
85, ‘χλαμὺς’.
34 In nativitatem B. Mariae I, II, IV, PG 97, 812B, 838B-D, 880CD; Canon in B. Annae conceptionem, PG
97, 1316B; Magnus Canon, PG 97, 1377D.
35 In nativitatem B. V. Mariae, II, PG 96, 693C. Other examples by: Epiphanios of Cyprus, Oratio V, In
laudes S. Mariae Deiparae, PG 43, 496B; Photios of Constantinople, On the Annunciation (II, §7), and
On the Nativity of the Virgin (§10), ed. Laourdas, Ὁμιλίαι, 81:33-82:3, 97:29-31, English translation by
Mango, Homilies, 148, 175; George of Nikomedeia, In SS. Deiparae conceptionem, PG 100, 1384C;
Joseph the Hymnographer, Mariale, PG 105, 988A, 1021B; James of Kokkonibaphos, In
conceptionem SS. Deiparae, PG 127, 545D, 584C, In SS. Deiparae visitationem, PG 127, 664B, 669BC.
See also Eustratiades, Θεοτόκος, 3-4, ‘ἁλουργὶς’; 37, ‘κογχύλη’; 38, ‘κόχλος’; 64, ‘πορφύρα’,
‘πορφυρὶς’. Ledit, Marie, 76-77.
36 Cf. Aubineau, ‘La tunique’, esp. 11-16, for the patristic exegesis on John 19:23-4, interpreting
Christ’s ‘seamless robe, woven in one piece form top to bottom’, as a symbol of his two
undivided and unconfused natures.
37 The textual references both to the purple spun by the Virgin during the Annunciation and to the
purple woven in her womb for the Incarnation leave no doubt that the thread held in her hands
in images of the Annunciation is the purple (and not the scarlet material) for the Temple veil,
despite the fact that it is often rendered in bright red rather than dark purplish colour. The intense
bright colour of the thread may have been used to draw attention to the object, especially against
the dark purple and blue cloths of the Virgin who is holding it in front of her.
38 E. Kitzinger, The mosaics of St Mary of the Admiral in Palermo (Dumbarton Oaks Studies 27),
Washington D.C. 1990, 174, fig. 189; A. and J. Stylianou, The Painted Churches of Cyprus. Treasures of
Byzantine Art, London 1985, 486-88, fig. 296.
39 Kitzinger, St. Mary, 172-75, 307-9, plates XIV-XV, figs 98-101.
274 Maria Evangelatou
63 M. Eliade, Images and Symbols. Studies in Religious Symbolism, translated by P. Mairet, Princeton 1991,
148; DACL, XIV1, ‘Perle’, I; Lexikon der christlichen Ikonographie, III, 300, ‘Muschel’; 393, ‘Perle’.
For fragments of Ephrem’s homily on Christ ‘μαργαρίτην’ (in Greek) in which the pearl is used as
symbol of his two natures see Fragmenta, In margaritam, PG 98b, 2108C-2109B.
64 Examples by: Epiphanios of Cyprus, Homilia V, In laudes S. Mariae Deiparae (dubia aut spuria), PG 43,
489A/D, 496B/C; Proclos of Constantinople, Oratio VI, De laudibus S. Mariae, PG 65, 753A,
Oratio V, De laudibus S. Mariae, PG 65, 720C; Basil of Seleukeia, In SS. Deiparae annuntiationem, PG
85, 436A; Pseudo-Modestos of Jerusalem, Encomium in B. Virginem, PG 86 II, 3289C-3292A (for
the false attribution of this homily to Modestos see M. Jugie, La morte et l’assomption de la Sainte
Vierge. Etude historico-doctrinal, Vatican City 1944, 214-17.); Hesychios presbyter of Jerusalem, Sermo
de sancta Maria Deipara, PG 93, 1461A, 1464D; Chrysipos presbyter of Jerusalem, Oratio in sanctam
Mariam Deiparam, PO 193, [219:5-6]; John of Damascus, In nativitatem B. V. Mariae, I, PG 96, 665D-
668A, 677A, In nativitatem B. V. Mariae, II, PG 96, 684B, Sermo in B. V. Mariae, PG 96, 816B; John
of Euboia, In conceptionem Deiparae, PG 96, 1465A; Photios of Constantinople, On the annunciation (I,
§7), ed. Laourdas, Ὁμιλίαι, 61:3-5, English translation by Mango, Homilies, 121; Joseph the
Hymnographer, Marialae, PG 105, 1021D; John Geometres, Hymni in S. Deiparae, PG 106, 857Α;
Leo VI, In B. Mariae annuntiationem, PG 107, 24D-25A, In Christi nativitatem, I, PG 107, 36D;
Symeon Metaphrastes, In lamentationem SS. Deiparae, PG 114, 213D. See also Eustratiades (1930),
37, ‘κογχύλη’; 38, ‘κόχλος’; 64, ‘πορφύρα’.
65 See, for example, Epiphanios of Cyprus, Homilia V, In laudibus S. Mariae Deiparae (dubia aut spuria),
PG 43, 496B; John of Damascus, In nativitatme B. V. Mariae, PG 96, 665D-668A.
66 In Greek, the shell that produces the purple dye is called ‘πορφύρα’ (the same word is used for the
dye and for textiles coloured with it), and the oyster that bears pearls ‘ὄστρειον/ ὄστρεον’ (H. G.
Liddell and R. Scott, A Greek-English Lexicon. A New Edition Revised and Augmented throughout by Sri
H. Stuart Jones, Oxford 1948, 1451, 1264). In most texts referred to in note 65, above, the Virgin is
called ‘κογχύλη’ or ‘κόχλος’ (shell).
67 As by Epiphanios of Cyprus, Homilia V, In laudibus S. Mariae Deiparae (dubia aut spuria), PG 43,
489A; and by Pseudo-Modestos of Jerusalem, Encomium in B. Virginem, PG 86 II, 3289C-3292A.
68 D. Winfield, ‘Hagios Chrysostomos, Trikomo, Asinou. Byzantine Painters at Work’, Πρακτικὰ
Πρώτου Διεθνοῦς Κυπρολογικοῦ Συνεδρίου (Nicosia 1969), Nicosia 1972, II, 285 f.; Stylianou,
Churches of Cyprus, 124-26, 486.
69 Kitzinger, St. Mary, 242-45.
70 P. Vokotopoulos in Mystery Great and Wondrous (exhibition catalogue), Athens 2002, 114, cat. no.
17; A. Weyl-Carr in The Glory of Byzantium, 375.
71 Mother of God, 402.
72 Cf. Constas, ‘Proclos’, 193, (and n. 79, referring to John Chrysostom’s observation that he uses
comparisons from everyday life, so that when his hearers go home, everything around them will
remind them of what he said – PG 51, 358). See also Brock, ‘clothing metaphors’, 22; B. E. Daley,
‘Late Medieval Iconography of Mary’, in Medieval Gardens (Dumbarton Oaks Research Library and
Collection), Washington D.C. 1983, 255-78, esp. 277-78.
73 For a review of current (and older) approaches to the major issues of the relationship between
texts and images and the capacity of art not only to reflect but also to constitute ideology see
Iconography at the Crossroads, ed. B. Cassidy, Princeton 1993, esp. B. Cassidy, ‘Iconography, Texts,
and Audience’, 3-16, and M. A. Holly, ‘Unwriting Iconology’, 17-26.
Fig. 1. Icon of the Annunciation, late 12th century. St Cahterine’s Monastery, Mt Sinai.
Fig. 1 (detail)
Fig. 2. Wall-painting of the Virgin Mary from the Annunciation, early 12th century.
Church of the Virgin, Trikomo, Cyprus.
Fig. 3. Mosaic of the Virgin Mary from the Annunciation, c. 1146-51. Church of St Mary
of the Admiral (Martorana), Palermo, Sicily.
Fig. 4. The Annunciation, back of a two-sided icon, third quarter of the 14th century.
From the church of the Virgin Peribleptos, Ohrid, now at the National Museum,
Belgrade.