by Diane Boudreau

Diane Wolfthal peeps into people’s bedrooms. She is on the prowl for clues that tell the stories of their sex lives. Don’t worry—you won’t ever see her brown eyes peering through the panes of your window. The bedrooms she seeks out existed in the 15th century. And the “windows” are made of wood and canvas, not glass.

Wolfthal is an art historian at Arizona State University. She is well known for her technical analyses of paintings. But when she’s not taking X-rays of artwork to see the hidden layers of paintings, she’s peering at images through a feminist lens to find the underlying social and cultural values.

Her latest project examines historical views of sex. She is compiling her findings in a book called In and Out of the Marital Bed: Seeing Sex in Early Modern Art. The book is to be finished this year. Her work focuses on England, The Netherlands, and Germany during the 15th and 16th centuries.

“My book shows how couples are shown in or near bed,” says Wolfthal. “The book starts by looking at marriage, which was considered the privileged site of sexuality in those days. I traced the development of how early modern society conceptualized married sex.”

She pulls out a book and opens to photo of a painting called “Arnolfini Wedding Portrait” (Jan Van Eyck, 1434). A couple stands holding hands at arm’s length. They are richly dressed in long, fur-trimmed robes. The man wears a hat and the woman wears a white cap that covers her hair. Neither party smiles, but the man looks out at the viewer while the woman’s eyes point demurely downward toward her husband.

It’s hardly sexy by today’s standards, but Wolfthal insists that the painting is all about sex, as evidenced by the bed, draped in red curtains, in the background.

“People deny that the bed has to do with conjugal sex, but I don’t believe it,” she says. She believes that the portrait is the couple’s way of proclaiming, “We’re doing it right!”

According to the medieval Catholic Church, sex was only acceptable within the bounds of marriage. That view is still widely held among most religions today. However, the medieval church took things a step further, dictating the rules for sexual behavior even within a marriage.

“The church talks about the chaste sexuality of marriage. You can do it, but you can’t enjoy it. Sex was only allowed to procreate, to avoid fornication, and to pay the marital debt,” explains Wolfthal. Even those cases were viewed as necessary evils, and something to be avoided at all if possible.

Because of the church’s strict and often contradictory guidelines, couples felt a lot of anxiety about sex. For example, men weren’t supposed to experience lust or sexual pleasure, but impotence was legal grounds for wives to seek a divorce. The church also presented guidelines about how and when sex should occur—not during Lent, for example, and only in the missionary position.

Anxieties about doing things properly manifested in the artwork of the time.

“There is one image of a dead husband’s soul returning as a ghost to warn his wife to confess their sin, because they had sex in the wrong position,” says Wolfthal.

“Arnolfini Wedding Portrait” is most likely an attempt to show the world that the couple has a proper relationship, Wolfthal says. Details of the painting indicate that the marriage is holy and intended for procreation.

For example, a pair of clogs cast to one side show that the event is taking place on holy ground. A little dog symbolizes fidelity. The finial on the bedpost is a statue of Saint Margaret, the patron saint of childbirth. A framed mirror behind the couple is adorned with scenes from the Passion of Christ, representing God’s promise of salvation for those reflected in the mirror’s glass. Beside the mirror hangs a rosary.

All of these symbols may have been especially important because the man in the picture is a wealthy financier.

“Bankers were associated with sterility and sodomy because the interest borne on money was considered unnatural reproduction,” says Wolfthal. As a result, bankers often felt compelled to prove themselves worthy to the church.

In her book, Wolfthal compares images of marriage like this one to images of adultery. The contrast is striking.

“The adulterous couples were having a lot more fun. The images are more erotic,” she says.

Elizabeth Vernon was a maid of honor to Queen Elizabeth of England. Vernon had an affair with the Earl of Southampton, which culminated in a secret marriage in 1598 after Vernon became pregnant. Their romance incurred the wrath of the Queen, who sent them both to prison.

A painting of Vernon (artist unknown) shows her at her toilette, combing her hair, her clothing open to reveal her corset.

“The bed was associated with chastity,” explains Wolfthal. “Images of the toilette were associated with passion.”

Women depicted combing their hair were not wives, they were lovers, says Wolfthal. In fact, Vernon’s comb is teasingly inscribed, “lead me gently” in French.

By the 17th century, European ideas about marriage were changing. Friendship, romance, and physical passion began infiltrating a relationship that was once strictly a vehicle for securing children and financial stability. Although the church still expressed concern about lust in the marriage bed, romance ultimately prevailed.

“You can read letters from that time between husbands and wives, calling each other pet names and saying, ‘I can’t wait to be in your arms again,’” says Wolfthal.

These changes were reflected by artists, especially among the Dutch and the Flemish painter, Rubens. Where did these artists get ideas for how to depict passionate marriage? “They looked at images of adultery,” says Wolfthal.

In addition to marriage and adultery, Wolfthal examines images of homosexuality. Most publicly displayed images of the time denounced same-sex pairings through symbols and positioning. However, a few privately-owned works presented homosexuality in a more favorable light.

“People at court had more leeway,” says Wolfthal. “Even in a time when sodomites were burned at the stake, there were still some images not critical of the practice.”

Her research also explores “gendered spatial topography.” The position and location of a person in a painting says a lot about sex and gender roles, according to Wolfthal. One example is women shown looking out of windows.

“Women were supposed to stay indoors. If you wanted to catch a man’s eye, you had to display yourself in the window. Prostitutes, even now, stand at windows and doors in Amsterdam and other European cities. Available women—either young women of marriageable age or prostitutes—display themselves in windows and doorways. Proper married women stay hidden indoors.”

Wolfthal says that her research might provide some perspective on how views of sex and love have changed drastically over time.

“I think many people today believe that things have always been the same, but they weren’t. Even the most conservative people today wouldn’t say, ‘don’t enjoy sex, even with your spouse.’”

Wolfthal's research is supported by grants from the Herberger College
of Fine Arts and the Women and Gender Studies program at ASU. For more
information, contact Diane Wolfthal, Ph.D., at 480.965.0507. Send
e-mail to diane.wolfthal@asu.edu