{"id":29418,"date":"2025-12-24T09:00:00","date_gmt":"2025-12-24T08:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.beculture.it\/?p=29418"},"modified":"2025-11-16T17:26:20","modified_gmt":"2025-11-16T16:26:20","slug":"madness-in-art-from-middle-ages-to-renaissance","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.beculture.it\/en\/madness-in-art-from-middle-ages-to-renaissance\/","title":{"rendered":"Madness in art from the Middle Ages to the Renaissance: symbols and revelations"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Madness, with its medical, physiological and social implications, is one of the most complex subjects to define. Broadly understood as a deviation from what is considered \u201cnormal\u201d<\/strong> (another concept that is equally wide-ranging and uncertain), it has long attracted the attention of intellectuals, scientists and artists. The latter, in particular, have portrayed it through different forms and approaches<\/strong>, which vary according to the period and the sensitivity of each artist.
Precisely because the manifestations of madness are manifold \u2013 and the interpretations just as numerous \u2013 this article focuses on some of the most well-known and still meaningful examples today, dating from the period between the Middle Ages and the Renaissance.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Madness as the open sea: dark and unknown<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Madness has long been associated with the image of the sea: a mysterious expanse of water, driven by untamed forces, dangerous and shifting between uncontrollable emotional surges and sudden moments of withdrawal. La nave dei folli<\/em><\/strong>, a satirical work by the German humanist and poet Sebastian Brant<\/strong> (1494), accompanied by engravings largely produced by Albrecht D\u00fcrer<\/strong>, offers an ironic yet didactic vision of this idea. In the poem, 112 categories of fools embark together to travel to Narragonien<\/em>, the Land of fools. A tragic fate awaits them and, after passing through the Land of Cockaigne, they will drown miserably without ever reaching their destination. The engraving that opens the text is precisely that of a Navis stultorii<\/em>: a ship without a helmsman, led by men at the mercy of their own desires and oddities.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"Navis
Navis stultorii,<\/em> Albrecht Du\u0308rer<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

However, the madness Brant speaks of is not only that of mental disorder, but rather that of all human beings <\/strong>who, in his view, appear ridiculous before God. This is why, among the various types of fools, he includes the elderly, the clergy, gossips, and parents. All figures whose supposed normality is, in truth, nothing more than a disguise \u2014 a pretence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Carnival: when madness takes the stage<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

Speaking of disguise and make-believe, Carnival is perhaps the most eloquent symbol of madness<\/strong>. According to some reconstructions, this popular celebration may derive from the Babylonian rite of the Car Navale<\/em>, the \u201cnaval chariot\u201d that floated from the temple of Borsippa (emblem of the sky) to that of Babylon (emblem of the earth). It was a moment of transition, suspended between two worlds, in which light and order on the one hand, and darkness and irrational chaos on the other, could blend together. Once again, the image is that of a vessel on the verge of shipwreck \u2014 the same vision painted by Hieronymus Bosch <\/strong>in his celebrated <\/strong>Nave dei pazzi<\/em><\/strong> <\/strong>(c. 1490\u20131500, Louvre, Paris).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"La
La Nave dei Folli,<\/em> Hieronymus Bosch<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

The scene, lively only in appearance, is wrapped in a sombre atmosphere. On a dark and unfathomable sea drifts a small boat, now entirely adrift. On board, a curious group of figures engages in unusual actions: a nun, with an enchanted, almost hallucinatory expression, plays while attempting to bite a pastry suspended from the ship\u2019s mast. Other mouths reach for the coveted morsel: that of a priest with a vacant stare (perhaps a case of senile dementia); of a rower gazing into emptiness; and of a man who, seized by ecstasy, cries out and gestures wildly. The inability to obtain fulfilment or satisfaction<\/strong> \u2014 typical of those who experience an \u201cother\u201d mental state and are therefore excluded from social life \u2014 is perhaps symbolised by the food. Alongside the hanging pastry we see cherries, objects of desire and frustration for the two figures in the boat, and a chicken tied high up on the mast, made almost impossible to reach. On the right, however, two other figures are worth noting: a man overcome with nausea recalls depictions of the Underworld<\/a>, where the soul of the damned collapses into a terrible act of vomiting. Just above him, the fool <\/strong>(which in English also means \u201cmadman\u201d) sips something in a thoughtful pose, as if reflecting on his own condition of imprisonment and on that of the others. His staff, known as a marotte, bears a replica of his own face \u2014 a possible allegory of narcissism, but also of the necessary (and perhaps futile) search for the self.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Feast of Fools and the (temporary) reversal of social order<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

The same grotesque ambiguity between euphoria and sorrow can be found in other traditions, such as the Feast of Fools. Also known as the \u201cFeast of the Donkey\u201d, the \u201cFeast of Children\u201d, the \u201cFeast of Deacons\u201d or the \u201cFeast of the Innocents\u201d, it was celebrated throughout the Middle Ages and disappeared during the sixteenth century.
According to tradition, in the days between the old and the new year, the lower clergy and the common people would exchange roles in a playful and excessive celebration<\/strong>: priests and friars danced dressed as women, children, animals and fools, often in an obscene or inappropriate manner. At the same time, the poorest classes and marginalised individuals would wear ecclesiastical garments and elect their own \u201cFool\u2019s Pope\u201d. A true overturning of social roles, where it becomes possible to break free from worldly constraints and give full rein to one\u2019s exuberance.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"La
La Nave dei Folli<\/em>, Hieronymus Bosch<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

An effective depiction of this moment is Pieter Bruegel the Elder\u2019s engraving <\/strong>La festa dei folli<\/em><\/strong>, dated 1561 (The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York). On closer inspection, within the confusion of bodies, faces and objects, we can distinguish several figures dancing, playing music, pulling faces, somersaulting and performing other bizarre gestures. It depicts an actual celebration held in Antwerp in the same year, following a recurring pattern in the Low Countries known as Sotte Bollen<\/em>. In Flemish, the term Sottebol<\/em> means \u201cfool with a ball shaped head\u201d, an association that derives from a local proverb suggesting that fools are recognised by the way their heads roll about foolishly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Charivari<\/em>: burlesque ritual against transgression<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

It is possible that the Feast of Fools derived from the Saturnalia<\/em>, ancient pagan celebrations based on the same mechanism of role reversal. But the analogies with other similar rites do not end there. One need only think of the Charivari<\/em>, the French term for the masquerade held in the Middle Ages on the occasion of a widower\u2019s second marriage<\/strong>, considered insolent and transgressive. During the night, young men in disguise staged pranks and revels, often obscene and offensive, aimed at the groom. A delirium, a collective madness<\/strong> intended to exorcise the primal impulse of those who choose to marry again. In the Roman<\/em> de Fauvel<\/em>, composed between 1310 and 1314 by the cleric Gervais du Bus, Fauvel (the protagonist, a man with the head of a horse or a donkey) embodies the sum of all vices. His figurative transpositions are numerous, from fifteenth-century illuminated manuscripts to later paintings, such as Titania and Bottom<\/em> with the donkey\u2019s head<\/em> \u2014 inspired by Shakespeare \u2014 painted by Henry Fuseli (1793\u201394, Kunsthaus, Z\u00fcrich). Another curious link between the Roman de Fauvel<\/em> and madness is the presence of Hellequin: the celebrated Arlecchino of<\/strong> the Commedia dell\u2019Arte<\/strong>, described by some as a true demon, whose cunning tricks could drive people to lose their reason, provoking reactions of instinct and anguish.<\/p>\n\n\n