A mon seul désir - La Dame à la licorne - Cluny Museum, Paris France

There was a last althea in flower in the cobblestone courtyard of the Cluny Museum in Paris, quiet and silent in an early morning of an October working day. A restless glance ran along the crenellated walls, over the small windows, the dormers and the turrets, over the steep slate roof to a clear sky and then back to a small door. I already knew what I would have seen beyond: details of a medieval life made of ivory and gold, glass and wood, brass, stone and fine fabrics. In a dedicated room, the six tapestries of La Dame à la Licorne, or The Lady and the Unicorn, waited to be admired, plunged in dim light and padded atmosphere.

In 1882, the Museum purchased the cycle from the municipality of Boussac, France. Displayed in the great hall of the castle of this town, in the rural region of Limousin, the cloths fascinated Monsieur Prosper Mérimée, historian and state archaeologist. Already in 1841, he had urged interventions worried for the state of neglect in which some of them were stored. Their story began, indeed, many centuries before, when, around 1480, Flanders weavers created this refined and elegant work for a rich French cloth trader, Monsieur Jean Le Viste. Legends fill the following centuries.

The imposing tapestries show a fair and noble lady standing on a rounded blue isle assisted by a devoted maidservant, within a proud lion and a white unicorn, carrying waving flags and banners. Tall, slender trees full of fruits and flowers frame the picture. She performs simple gestures: takes a sweet from a cup, plays an instrument, holds a mirror, weaves a wreath of perfumed flowers and touches the unicorn’s horn.
The pictures stand out against a ruby red background strewn with flowers and small animals in a style called mille-fleurs, or thousand flowers.

Flowers are everywhere. Delicate hues shape forty different species. Columbine, aster, digital, stock, hyacinth, daffodil, daisy, lily, periwinkle, violet, jasmine and carnation, among others, bloom in clumps on the blue isle or fall in branches on the red background. Flowers made of silk and wool reminded spring in the cold rooms of lonely castles during the long, dark winter days.

All the elements in the tapestries are clearly recognizable. Trees are pines, oaks, hollies and oranges, while the small animals include domestic dogs, meek lambs, tender rabbits, smart foxes, monkeys and parrots.
Their different combinations and rich details make each cloth unique and denote a research for harmony and beauty in the patterns of the tapestries, probably the work of a French artist called Maître de Moulins.

These five tapestries are assumed to represent the five senses: taste, hearing, sight, smell and touch. But, this interpretation does not exhaust the complex network and the different levels of meanings. In Medieval times, each flower, fruit, animal or colour was a symbol that wrapped the universe in endless correspondences. The world was the sign of God, a message that every man could read according to his ability. It was an immediate and intuitive code to approach the divine mystery, to understand a story already written from the beginning to the end, from the Creation to the Universal Judgment.

The sixth tapestry stands alone. The lady puts her necklace in a casket held by her maidservant, standing in front of a tent which the lion and the unicorn keep opened. A small dog is sat next to her, on a soft cushion on a bench. The motto “A’ mon seul désir”, “To my only desire”, is written in gold on the top of the tent whose style recalls the East and whose ropes hide two other mysterious letters.

This tapestry should resume the meaning of the whole cycle, but its interpretation is not yet definitive. Some historians see the renounce to the physical pleasures to achieve a spiritual truth, others the celebration of the courtly love.
Symbols answered to a deep need of understanding, they were intended to amuse, instruct and reveal the truth of God, not to conceal it. They were not the mysterious and magical signs that we see today.

In the courtyard, while I buttoned my coat, I looked at the shells that encrust the wall near the entrance. They are memories of the religious origin of the building, of the pilgrimages to Santiago de Compostela, in Spain. The lively althea flowered nearby.

Further readings:
Storie di arazzi e di fiori – Inna Dufour Nannelli – Leonardo Arte
Letterature romanze del medioevo – Alberto Varvaro – Il Mulino

Photos:
Travel in a garden

Links:
The official site of the Cluny Museum, Paris
http:www.musee-moyenage.fr/

An elegant, detailed site about La Dame à la licorne (in French)
http://sarah.vanden.free.fr/