With the brief space at our disposal, what shall we say of the crowning works of those two wonderful years, 1513-1514—Knight, Death and the Devil, Melancholia, and St. Jerome in his Study? Are they three of a proposed series of the four temperaments? Should they be considered as parts of a group—or is each masterpiece complete in itself? One thing at least they have in common: they are truly “Stimmungsbilder”—that is, the lighting is so arranged, in each composition, as directly to affect the mind and the mood of the beholder, and “the sombre gloom of the Knight, Death and the Devil, the weird, unearthly glitter of the Melancholia, with its uncertain, glinting lights, the soft, tranquil sunshine of the St. Jerome, are all in accordance with their several subjects. These, whether or not originally intended to represent ‘classes of men’ or ‘moods,’ certainly call up the latter in the mind of the beholder—the steady courage of the valiant fighter for the right, undismayed by darkness and dangers; the brooding, leading well-nigh to despair, over the vain efforts of human science to lift the veil of the eternal secret; and the calm content of the mind at peace with itself and the world around it.”[8]
[8] A Chronological Catalogue of the Engravings, Dry-Points and Etchings of Albert Dürer, as exhibited at the Grolier Club. By Sylvester R. Koehler. New York; The Grolier Club. 1897. p. 65.
Dürer, unfortunately, sheds no light upon the inner and deeper meaning of the Knight, Death and the Devil. He speaks of it simply as “A Horseman.” The many and various titles invented for it since his time carry us very little further forward than where we began. The letter S, which precedes the date, the dog which trots upon the further side of the horse, even the blades of grass under the hoof of the right hind leg of the horse, have all been matters of speculation and controversy, and we choose the part of wisdom if, disregarding the swirling currents of metaphysical interpretation, we enjoy this masterpiece of engraving for its æsthetic content primarily, and for its potential meanings afterwards.
ALBRECHT DÜRER. KNIGHT, DEATH AND THE DEVIL
Size of the original engraving, 9⅝ × 7⅜ inches
In the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston
ALBRECHT DÜRER. MELANCHOLIA
Size of the original engraving, 9⅛ × 7¼ inches
In the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston
Melancholia favors an even wider range of speculation than the Knight, Death and the Devil. This woman, who wears a laurel wreath and who, seated in gloomy meditation, supports her cheek in her left hand, while all the materials for human labor, for art, and for science lie scattered about her—does she symbolize human Reason in despair at the limits imposed upon her power? Or does the plate have a more personal and intimate meaning, reflecting Dürer’s deep grief at the death of his mother—the mother to whom he so often refers in his letters, always with heartfelt affection?