This Might Just Be The Most Remarkable

Painting Ever Made

A whole world captured in a single image

The Ambassadors (1533) by Hans Holbein the Younger. Oil on oak wood. 209.5 x 207 cm.
National Gallery, London, UK. Image Source Wikimedia Commons
This painting has everything. It is a full-length double portrait — one of the earliest in art
history. It also presents an allegory, a warning, and a compendium of the science and culture of
the age.

The image was painted by Hans Holbein the Younger in 1533, and it contains a plethora of
astonishing detail.

Close up of Jean de Dinteville. Detail of ‘The Ambassadors’ (1533) by Hans Holbein the
Younger. Oil on oak wood. 209.5 x 207 cm. National Gallery, London, UK. Image Source
Wikimedia Commons

It shows two Frenchmen — the ambassadors of the painting’s title. On the left stands Jean de
Dinteville, a diplomat posted to London. The globe on the bottom shelf includes the position of
Polisy where his château was located — and also where the painting would eventually be
housed. An inventory of 1589, records it hanging in the Great Hall of the château. In his right
hand, de Dinteville holds an ornamented knife, giving his age as 29.

To his left stands his friend, Georges de Selve, a French bishop and fellow diplomat. It was his
visit to London that the painting commemorates. His age — 25 years — is inscribed on the pages
of the book beside him.

Both men are dressed in magnificent clothes, de Dinteville in fashionable pink and black, Selve
in a damask robe, and they are surrounded by an abundance of objects.
These objects tell their own story. So what is the meaning of this remarkable painting? Let’s take
a look around…

The celestial globe

Behind the two diplomats is a double-shelved table. On the top shelf sits an array of astronomical
and navigational instruments. One of them is a celestial globe: a spherical map showing the
positions of the stars in the night sky.
Details of ‘The Ambassadors’ (1533) by Hans Holbein the Younger. Oil on oak wood. 209.5 x
207 cm. National Gallery, London, UK. Image Source Wikimedia Commons

The precision of painted detail here is exceptional. Not only has Holbein rendered the colours
and shadows of the globe with almost perfect meticulousness, he has also positioned the
constellations to add symbolic meaning.

Notice the prominent location of the constellation Cygnus, marked on the globe in the form of a
bird above the word “GALACIA.” Cygnus is usually shown as a flying bird, often a swan, but in
this case it is shown as a rooster or cock. As an ancient symbol of France, the rooster is thought
to signify the homeland of the two ambassadors depicted.

Learning
These various mathematical and navigational instruments — as well as a globe of the Earth and
an arithmetic manual lower down — clearly indicate scholarly aspirations of the two
ambassadors.

Detail of ‘The Ambassadors’ (1533) by Hans Holbein the Younger. Oil on oak wood. 209.5 x
207 cm. National Gallery, London, UK. Image Source Wikimedia Commons

If we include the German text-book of Arithmetic for Merchants on the lower shelf, propped
open with a T-square, then it’s safe to say that astronomy, arithmetic, geometry and music are all
represented: the quadrivium of a humanist education.

With the grand display of objects and complex meanings, the visual self-fashioning of the two
sitters in this double portrait is palpable. The painting is at once an extravagant statement of
friendship and a demonstration of their social distinction and erudition.

The sundials
Polyhedral sundial. Detail of ‘The Ambassadors’ (1533) by Hans Holbein the Younger. Oil on
oak wood. 209.5 x 207 cm. National Gallery, London, UK. Image Source Wikimedia Commons

On the table beside the celestial globe are arrayed four sundials. The image above shows one of
these, known as a polyhedral sundial. These dials have several facets, designed to show off the
masterwork of the craftsman as well as tell the time.

The polyhedral sundial clearly displays three sides of its surface, with each side bearing a
shadow pointer — or gnomon — to indicate the hour of the day.

Interestingly, the times shown on the different surfaces of the polyhedral sundial do not agree:
one face shows 9:30 whereas the other two show 10:30. So is there some way of reading the
painting that makes sense of this discrepancy?
The compass on the polyhedral sundial. Detail of ‘The Ambassadors’ (1533) by Hans Holbein
the Younger. Oil on oak wood. 209.5 x 207 cm. National Gallery, London, UK. Image Source
Wikimedia Commons

Well, if you look at the top of the sundial there is a tiny compass. The arrow of the compass
naturally shows the north-south axis, meaning that the actual alignment of the sundial depicted is
east-west. Historians have explored the practical use of these sundials and have noted that the
“correct” use would involve arranging the shadow pointers to the north. Hence, the dial is not
supposed to be telling the correct time.

The four sundials on the table (from left to right): a cylindrical dial known as a pillar dial, a
partially disassembled universal equinoctial dial, a horary quadrant (the white object behind), a
polyhedral sundial. Detail of ‘The Ambassadors’ (1533) by Hans Holbein the Younger. Oil on
oak wood. 209.5 x 207 cm. National Gallery, London, UK. Image Source Wikimedia Commons

An examination of the other sundials on the table reveals a similar set of irregularities. One way
to account for these discrepancies is in relation to the wider theme apparent in the painting,
which are the limits of human invention curbed by the imperfect nature of humanity.

And yet an intriguing possibility is offered by the cylindrical or “pillar” sundial on the far left,
with some interpretations claiming it shows April 11, which in 1533 was Good Friday — the
Friday before Easter when Christ’s Redemption of humankind through His Passion is celebrated.

And so a new layer of meaning begins to reveal itself…

The discordant lute
Several allusions in the painting suggest conflict. On the lower shelf of the table, for instance, is
a lute with a broken string.

It is thought that the lute with the broken string and the hymn book next to it refer to the political
and religious turmoil that was plaguing Europe at the time, most especially concerning the
Reformation. In both Britain and France, conflict between Protestants and Catholics reigned.
This was the very time that Henry VIII, King of England, would break with the Roman Catholic
Church in order to annul his marriage to his first wife, Catherine of Aragon.

Detail of ‘The Ambassadors’ (1533) by Hans Holbein the Younger. Oil on oak wood. 209.5 x
207 cm. National Gallery, London, UK. Image Source Wikimedia Commons

This may seem like a lot of meaning to place on one broken string, but various considerations
make the case. The lute was a traditional symbol of harmony; shown with a snapped string the
instrument becomes a symbol of discord or fragility.
Lutheran hymnbook and set of flutes. Detail of ‘The Ambassadors’ (1533) by Hans Holbein the
Younger. Oil on oak wood. 209.5 x 207 cm. National Gallery, London, UK. Image Source
Wikimedia Commons

Just as tellingly is the set of flutes, of which one is missing underneath, again suggesting a lack
of harmony.

It is known that the Georges de Selve, as a bishop, had attended the Diet of Speyer four years
earlier, a conference at which the Holy Roman Emperor Charles V attempted to reconcile
Catholics and Protestants.

The hymnbook next to it, shows the tenor notes for two hymns translated by the church reformer
Martin Luther. Since this so-called “tenor partbook” was a work common to both Protestant and
Catholic services, then the deeper meaning of the painting is revealed as an allegory of religious
reconciliation.
Detail of ‘The Ambassadors’ (1533) by Hans Holbein the Younger. Oil on oak wood. 209.5 x
207 cm. National Gallery, London, UK. Image Source Wikimedia Commons

Finally, just visible in the top left corner behind the damask curtain, is a crucifix. When seen in
conjunction with the lute, the flutes and the hymnbook, the message seems to be that Christian
faith — however disunited — still offers hope of universal salvation through Christ’s sacrifice.

Death
There is one more object in this painting that might just be the most extraordinary feature of the
entire image.

I remember seeing this painting for the first time as a student on a trip to London. The first thing
I saw was the strange shape at the bottom of the painting — the diagonal blur of grey in the
front. Then somebody told me to stand to one side and look from an angle. It was only then that
the strange shape revealed itself fully.
The skull when seen from the “correct” angle. Detail from ‘The Ambassadors’ (1533) by Hans
Holbein the Younger. Oil on oak wood. 209.5 x 207 cm. National Gallery, London, UK. Image
Source Wikimedia Commons

It is a skull, of course, painted as if stretched out like dough, taking its true form only when seen
from an oblique angle.

Holbein chose to hide the skull in this way as a kind of visual trickery or furtive warning. It is
also the archetypal memento mori, a reminder of mortality.
The Ambassadors (1533) by Hans Holbein the Younger. Oil on oak wood. 209.5 x 207 cm.
National Gallery, London, UK. Image Source Wikimedia Commons

In a time of religious antagonism, the portrait commemorates the friendship of the two
ambassadors and also offers the greater message of hope for salvation after death offered by the
Christian faith.

It remains one of Hans Holbein’s most spectacular works of art. An object as rich and visually
impressive as this is a rare thing indeed.