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Accompanies exhibition at the Musée Condé in Chantilly from June 7 to October 5, 2025.
Edited by Mathieu Deldicque
Published by Hannibal Books
The dazzling Gothic beauty of the miniatures and calendars, mostly created by the three van Lymborch, or Limbourg, brothers, and commissioned by the French aesthete and diplomat the Duke of Berry around 1411, foreshadowed the work of Jan van Eyck and other outstanding 15th-century Flemish painters.
More recently, Laurence Olivier drew on the “Très Riches Heures” for the setting of his “Henry V” film, which had a very different perspective on Agincourt and the Hundred Years’ War from that of the Duke of Berry, who lived through them. Disney also used the work to inspire perfect fairytale castles, and it even made an appearance in a comically tense episode of Mr. Bean as an example of what should never be destroyed.
Apart from the sumptuousness of all the gold and lapis lazuli blue, the work’s endurance and influence is largely down to another French nobleman – Henri d’Orléans, Duke of Aumale (1822-97), who, like the Duke of Berry, was a passionate and erudite collector of beautiful books.
The Duke of Aurnale’s quest to repatriate the “Très Riches Heures”, which had turned up in Genoa, was the more deeply felt as he too was an exile, living in Twickenham as a consequence of the French revolution.
He would later give the “Très Riches Heures” pride of place in the vast Chantilly estate – which he inherited from his godfather, the last Prince of Condé – and restored. There it must stay, according to a clause in his will that left his fastidiously compiled library to the “Institut de France”, preserving it for France’s most learned and ensuring it would become one of the most studied of medieval manuscripts.
The duke concluded: “This book occupies a significant place in the history of art; I dare say it has no rival.”
The view is reinforced by a very rich catalogue, produced by Hannibal Books and informed by some of France’s académiciens, to accompany an exhibition that provides the kind of access to the “Très Riches Heures” we are unlikely to get again.
It is exceptional because the book has been restored, but not yet rebound. The leaves, fully on display, will be returned to their Morocco binding after the exhibition, which has been more than a decade in the making.
The creators of the “Très Riches Heures” – Jean de Berry and the three Lymborch brothers all died in 1416 – meaning they never saw a finished work. The brothers, possibly killed by the plague, were not yet 30. The duke was 75. It was left to others to try to complete what they had begun, as analysed in some of the more arcane sections of this catalogue whose academic ambitions emulate those of the dukes of Berry and Aurnale.
We delve deeply and reverently into debates over the quality of the pigments, whose hand painted which face, and the significance of heraldic and political references.
For many readers, the images stand alone as eloquent expressions of the human condition, now as then, and would be reason enough to acquire a catalogue almost as magnificent as its subject.
Still our appreciation is heightened by, for instance, the suggestion that the depiction of “the Healing of the Possessed” is not just about driving a spiky black devil from a private citizen but a reminder that the attack of madness suffered by the Duke of Berry’s nephew King Charles VI in the forest of Le Mans on August 5, 1392, triggered a profound political crisis.
The timeless serenity of the seasons of the calendar is also more poignant when we consider that the gentle sheep, earthy peasants and fecund pastures are not depictions of what is or ever was, but rather a heart-felt plea for the unified world, living in harmony with the rhythm of the celestial spheres that ought to be.
The quasi-miracle is that the golden age of patronage and the prosperous and interconnected Europe that delivered this quintessential medieval work coexisted with humanity at its most fallen.
The Très Riches Heures of Jean, Duke of Berry
Accompanies exhibition at the Musée Condé in Chantilly from June 7 to October 5, 2025.
Edited by Mathieu Deldicque
Published by Hannibal Books
The dazzling Gothic beauty of the miniatures and calendars, mostly created by the three van Lymborch, or Limbourg, brothers, and commissioned by the French aesthete and diplomat the Duke of Berry around 1411, foreshadowed the work of Jan van Eyck and other outstanding 15th-century Flemish painters.
More recently, Laurence Olivier drew on the “Très Riches Heures” for the setting of his “Henry V” film, which had a very different perspective on Agincourt and the Hundred Years’ War from that of the Duke of Berry, who lived through them. Disney also used the work to inspire perfect fairytale castles, and it even made an appearance in a comically tense episode of Mr. Bean as an example of what should never be destroyed.
Apart from the sumptuousness of all the gold and lapis lazuli blue, the work’s endurance and influence is largely down to another French nobleman – Henri d’Orléans, Duke of Aumale (1822-97), who, like the Duke of Berry, was a passionate and erudite collector of beautiful books.
The Duke of Aurnale’s quest to repatriate the “Très Riches Heures”, which had turned up in Genoa, was the more deeply felt as he too was an exile, living in Twickenham as a consequence of the French revolution.
He would later give the “Très Riches Heures” pride of place in the vast Chantilly estate – which he inherited from his godfather, the last Prince of Condé – and restored. There it must stay, according to a clause in his will that left his fastidiously compiled library to the “Institut de France”, preserving it for France’s most learned and ensuring it would become one of the most studied of medieval manuscripts.
The duke concluded: “This book occupies a significant place in the history of art; I dare say it has no rival.”
The view is reinforced by a very rich catalogue, produced by Hannibal Books and informed by some of France’s académiciens, to accompany an exhibition that provides the kind of access to the “Très Riches Heures” we are unlikely to get again.
It is exceptional because the book has been restored, but not yet rebound. The leaves, fully on display, will be returned to their Morocco binding after the exhibition, which has been more than a decade in the making.
The creators of the “Très Riches Heures” – Jean de Berry and the three Lymborch brothers all died in 1416 – meaning they never saw a finished work. The brothers, possibly killed by the plague, were not yet 30. The duke was 75. It was left to others to try to complete what they had begun, as analysed in some of the more arcane sections of this catalogue whose academic ambitions emulate those of the dukes of Berry and Aurnale.
We delve deeply and reverently into debates over the quality of the pigments, whose hand painted which face, and the significance of heraldic and political references.
For many readers, the images stand alone as eloquent expressions of the human condition, now as then, and would be reason enough to acquire a catalogue almost as magnificent as its subject.
Still our appreciation is heightened by, for instance, the suggestion that the depiction of “the Healing of the Possessed” is not just about driving a spiky black devil from a private citizen but a reminder that the attack of madness suffered by the Duke of Berry’s nephew King Charles VI in the forest of Le Mans on August 5, 1392, triggered a profound political crisis.
The timeless serenity of the seasons of the calendar is also more poignant when we consider that the gentle sheep, earthy peasants and fecund pastures are not depictions of what is or ever was, but rather a heart-felt plea for the unified world, living in harmony with the rhythm of the celestial spheres that ought to be.
The quasi-miracle is that the golden age of patronage and the prosperous and interconnected Europe that delivered this quintessential medieval work coexisted with humanity at its most fallen.
Barbara Lewis © 2025.
By Barbara Lewis • art, books, drawing, exhibitions, painting, year 2025 • Tags: art, Barbara Lewis, books, drawing, exhibitions, painting