This itinerary unwinds through the paintings of the Uffizi, from the start of the 15th century to the beginning of the 18th, in pursuit of jewels, not only to observe them more carefully and learn about their shapes, materials and styles, but also to try and reconstruct the semantic function within each individual work. 

Due to their very nature, as objects made with precious, rare and exotic materials, jewels are complex items. Not only do they respond to man’s instinctive love of anything sparkling or mysterious, or to the need to embellish and adorn the body, but they also respond to the urgent need to ‘reinforce it’, in line with their perception as magical objects, a theory that survived at least until the origin of experimental science.  A wealth of lapidary literature, which spans from the Alexandrian age to the 17th century, hands down descriptions of the physical characteristics and presumed therapeutic virtues of precious materials, in a series of texts known to have been diffused throughout Europe in the late medieval period, and during the Renaissance.  These include the thirty-seventh book of the Naturalis Historia, which Pliny the Elder dedicated entirely to gems (77 A.D.). The Roman polygraph includes, alongside the morphological descriptions, a wealth of anecdotal evidence regarding mirabilia derived from eastern imagery. He traces back the therapeutic power of gems to a principle of ‘sympathy and antipathy’ among the stars which, reverberating on the minerals, were said to invest them with every magical virtue. Pliny’s work strongly influenced the medieval lapidaries and met with great success in the erudite Renaissance, as one of the classics most favoured by the humanists. In the 15th century, other popular works included De Mineralibus, by medieval mystic Albert the Great (1206-1280) and De gemmis by Marbode of Rennes (1035c.-1128). The latter, dating to the end of the eleventh century, formally originated from the pretext of attributing the right meaning to the gems mentioned in the descriptions of the heavenly Jerusalem (Revelation 21:21) and of Aaron’s breastplate in the Holy Scriptures (Ex. 28:15-20), but was essentially pagan in terms of its tone and contents. The book by Marbode of Rennes is a fundamental vehicle for the mineralogical culture of in the late medieval and Renaissance age, due to its widespread diffusion within Europe, and its many translations.  The 14th century short poem L’Acerba by heretic Cecco d’Ascoli (who died in 1327) also found favour with the humanists. In it, each gem, whose therapeutic virtues the author reaffirms, is perceived as being associated with a planet.

A topos of very ancient origin, the association of gems with the planets, which had already figured in the Alexandrian texts, the works of Pliny and in late medieval lapidaries, assumes an essential role in the Renaissance texts of medical astrology by Florentine philosopher Marsile Ficin (De vita coelitus comparanda) and by Camillo Leonardi (Speculum Lapidum), humanist doctor from Pesaro, in which both still assign to precious stones a power determined by the sympathies and antipathies of the planets, and by the association of minerals with the elements.

The vocabulary of precious materials, built based on the literary documents in use, assumes an importance that cannot be ignored in the language of jewellery. The unique persistence of the contents of the sources leads us to believe that the gemological knowledge may, over the centuries have “descended” from the empyrean of erudition to real society, informing those who chose, assembled, purchased and wore precious stones. Indeed, it is thanks to the sources that the jewels in paintings take on an ability to communicate which, going beyond the habits of custom, pushes past the desire of the customer, and even that of the artist himself, into the sphere of moral values and desires that could not otherwise have been expressed. This occurs above all in the works created between the beginning of the 15th century and the early 16th century, when the generally precious international Gothic style gave way to the growing realist urgency of the Renaissance artists.

In this phase, jewels rendered tangible and contextualised in the pictorial depiction, together with bearing testimony through their shapes and materials to their epoch, taste and geographical location acquired new semantic values, beyond the mere ostentation of wealth and power.

St James the Greater with St Vincent and St Eustace

The work painted for the Cardinal of Portugal's Chapel, attributed to Piero del Pollaiolo, depicts Saints Vincent, James and Eustace, all figures connected to that of James of Portugal, the cardinal archbishop of Lisbon who died in Florence in 1459 and was buried in the church of San Miniato al Monte. The choice of the saints follows a precise line of reasoning: St Vincent is the patron saint of Lisbon, the cardinal’s city, St James, homonym of the prelate, is the owner of the cathedral of Santiago de Compostela, while Eustace is a reference to the Roman church in which he had been ordained cardinal.

St James the Greater with St Vincent and St Eustace
(St Vincent)

The first protomartyr, Vincent, as a reminder of his apostolic appointment as archdeacon, is wearing a dalmatic in a heavy red material, the colour of martyrdom, with embroidered hems and sparkling motifs featuring rubies, diamonds/sapphires, and pearls, depicted with Flemish precision. 

St James the Greater with St Vincent and St Eustace
(St Eustace)

The same gems reappear in the ‘modern’ clothing of Eustace, a converted Roman soldier: the first two on the collar, worn in the style of a chivalric decoration, liken the Saint to a knight, decorated by his own martyrdom (rubies) and the strength (diamonds, traditional symbols of resistance) he showed when honourably meeting the challenge.

The pearls decorate the sleeve of the arm holding the palm, at the shoulder, but also the belt, making even more explicit the symbolism of chastity and self-restraint linked both to the pearl and to the belt.

St James the Greater with St Vincent and St Eustace
(St James the Greater)

The third saint, James, only wears one gem: a pearl in the centre of the neckline of his robe, probably a reference to Christ, defined as a “beautiful pearl” in the evangelist parable of Matthew (13:45). The pecten jacobaeus, the Saint’s attribute, a shell, emblem of his Cathedral, decorates the hat at his feet.

Portrait of a Woman

The unidentified lady, depicted in profile, is of a similar type to another three paintings by the same painter, created between 1470 and 1480, probably en pendant with three male portraits. In this type of painting, often executed when a couple were to be married, the jewels, which were either a gift from husband to wife, or part of the dowry, served to describe the material and spiritual virtues of the bride.  The “hornets’ nest” hairstyle, embellished by a jewelled headpiece with a ruby, gives the woman an erect posture, the string of pearls decorates her with the symbol of chastity, whereas the pendant, with pearls and rubies, reiterates the concepts of purity (the pearls) and generosity (the ruby), a virtue considered necessary for procreation.

Portrait of a Woman

The most interesting piece of jewellery is the pin in the centre of her breast, the place that hosts the beating heart, the organ of the sentiments and of life itself.  It features an angel, crafted with the lost wax casting technique then enamelled, whose body hosts a ruby surrounded by another, smaller red stone, a sapphire, an emerald and some pearls, a fashionable type of jewel at that time in Milan. Similarly to the cross and other Christian symbols, the angel, the ultimate custodian, in this case has an openly protective function, as do the gems that embellish it. According to the medical astrology of Marsile Ficin and Camillo Leonardi, the ruby, with its solar characteristics, capable of comforting the heart and instilling vitality, was the gem of good health; the sapphire, bearer of the virtues of Jupiter, brought prosperity and the emerald, the stone of Venus, brought beauty and fertility. Surrounded by the wings of the angel, probably the announcing Gabriel, the three stones, symbolising health, wealth and fertility, are visually protected by the angel, so transforming the jewel into a powerful talisman for the wearer’s future married life, and the continuation of the family line.

Portrait of Galeazzo Maria Sforza

Painted in 1471, when the Duke of Milan was staying in Florence, and commissioned by Lorenzo de’ Medici to seal the diplomatic occasion, the portrait reveals a Flemish influence in the fact that the figure is cut to three quarters, which was innovative for the period. However, this influence does not extend to the depiction of the jewel, which is not so accurate, although it is plainly visible in the centre of the duke’s chest.

Portrait of Galeazzo Maria Sforza

The pendant, in the form of a shield, contains a red gem, a rare occurrence in male portraits, a ruby or possibly a garnet, at the time both ascribed by Pliny to the same category of “fiery gems”. The astrological lapidaries of the late medieval and the Renaissance agreed that the ruby was full of powers, as the result of its relationship with the planet Mars and the Sun star.  And its connection with the Sun led to the ruby being acknowledged as having the powers to boost the vital energy, protect the body from harm, and bring joy, openness and alacrity to those who wore it. Based on these indications, the solar talisman in the painting would appear to say: ‘Long live Galeazzo! May the ruby preserve him as the lively, courageous ally of Florence’.

The gem could, however, also provide a more specific indication, since we know from the documents that, in the same year in which the portrait was painted, Galeazzo had bought a large balasso (a kind of ruby) shaped like a heart. Although it seems that the gem was meant for a woman, Pollaiolo might have borrowed it temporarily to enrich the effigy of the captain with a timely historical reference.

Portrait of a man with a medal

In this portrait, the presence of the medal has not succeeded in solving the enigma of the subject’s identity. Since his features are similar to those of the painter himself, some theories identify him as Botticelli’s brother, goldsmith Antonio Filipepi, who may be the creator of the medal he is showing off so proudly.

The protagonist’s two rings trace a sort of moral identikit: one is set with a ruby and the other, less visible, with an emerald, both cut à cabochon. Worn on the pinky, the two rings do not appear to indicate sentimental bonds, which are usually delegated to the ring finger, but this does not mean that they tell us nothing about the wearer! The ring is the jewel that most reflects the identity of its wearer, a value derived from the Greek and Roman use of the signet ring, where an inscription or an emblem, engraved on metal or on the gem, was used to initial the wax that sealed official documents.  As an expression of identity, the ring is eloquent and speaks of its wearer using the symbolism of its gems, in this case a ruby and an emerald.

Portrait of a man with a medal

The former, the gem of the sun and the quintessence of fire (see Piero del Pollaiolo’s Charity), signals the generosity of the character, whereas the water-coloured emerald evokes the value of beauty.  Pliny had already highlighted the fact that the most beautiful emeralds came from Cyprus, the island of Venus, and he had been the first person to indicate the link between the goddess of beauty and the gem (XXXVII, 65-66), an association that would later be confirmed again in Marsile Ficin’s De vita coelitus comparanda. Botticelli had certainly been familiar with the passage from L’Acerba, widely read in Florence since as early as the 14th century, in which Cecco d’Ascoli affirms that the emerald: “conserves the face so that does not lose virtue”.

Pliny the Elder (XXXII, 26) highlights that wearing costly, precious stones on the pinky is rather snobbish, an ostentation of a hardly credible nonchalance regarding their preciousness. And that’s not all: since the pinky was often the finger on which the signet ring was worn, the presence of another ring there hinted that the wearer kept much more locked away than that small but precious jewel.

It definitely seems that the character portrayed is saying: “I am a good person (the ruby) and I am handsome (the emerald) but I don’t assign much importance to these virtues of mine because what counts most of all is being good at what I do” as demonstrated by the overt ostentation of the medal bearing the effigies of Cosimo “pater patriae”.

Although the identity of the man portrayed remains uncertain, - as does his profession – it is clear, in any case, that he is on the side of the Medici(or a supporter of the Medici) on a par with that of the artist, in view of the principle that “every painter paints himself”.

Madonna and Child Enthroned with Saints

The Holy Conversation painted for the church of San Giusto alle Mura in Florence features the Virgin and Child surrounded by archangels Michael and Gabriel, saint bishops Justus and Zenobius, and a choir of angels.  Gold is used extensively in the work, although it is not obtained with the traditional gold leaf technique. Instead, it is applied with an innovative method that entails applying thin coats of paint in simple colours, one on top of the other, as Giorgio Vasari relates.

Madonna and Child Enthroned with Saints

 A very original golden frieze adorns the edge of the masonry parapet that separates the terrace of the Saints from the garden behind it: it is decorated with sapphires, rubies, emeralds and pearls, representing the modesty, goodness, beauty and purity of the Madonna, values which, with this method are intended to be extended to all the characters of the Holy Conversation. The Virgin’s cloak is held together on her chest by an oval pin featuring a sapphire surrounded by pearls, a clear mark of her natural humility and dogmatic virginity. The Child is holding a crystal globe, topped by a cross in gold and pearls, a reference to spiritual kingship, since the object, like the sceptre and crown, had been a regalia since the time of the Roman and Byzantine emperors, with the added of the jewelled cross. In fact, the globe does not represent the Earth which, at the time, was believed to be flat, but the cosmos,and as such it was meant to convey the concept of universality, in this case that of the spiritual kind.

The material itself, rock crystal, thought capable of cauterising wounds due to its reflective properties, is believed to have been a reference to the Redeemer’s thaumaturgic power.  The indication regarding the use of crystal, initially provided by Pliny (XXXVII, 28), is repeated by Marbode of Rennes and in the 16th century by Camillo Leonardi and Ludovico Dolce. For medieval exegete Rabanus Maurus, crystal, a sort of fossilised ice, is linked to the sacrament of Baptism, and to the Incarnation of Christ.

Madonna and Child Enthroned with Saints
(St Michael)

The globe is an attribute of St Michael, also present in the altarpiece, a detail that suggests a privileged relationship between the divine Child and the armed Archangel. The precious stones set in his metal armour, neckline and on his hips in the style of a girdle, give the Saint the character of a supernatural warrior, a divine avenger, while the pearl near his lower stomach is a reminder of his angelic chastity, and the absence of sexual connotations.

Madonna and Child Enthroned with Saints
(St Zanobius)

The sapphires on the mitres of the saint bishops are a reference to the words of St Ambrose, who defined the gem as the emblem of holy men capable of heavenly contemplations in earthly existence. Instead, the rubies on their gloves, simulating the stigmata, are a reminder of the Passion of Christ Redeemer. The pins on the saints’ copes are extremely interesting: the one worn by Zanobius, featuring a red lily, is the symbol of Florence, while that of St Justus from Volterra has a strategic exegetic function.

Madonna and Child Enthroned with Saints
(St Justus from Volterra)

Located right in the centre of the throat and emphasised by the gesture of his hand, the pin draws attention to the eloquence of the Saint, who evangelised his city besieged by the Goths.

Adoration of the Magi

The Adoration is the central part of the triptych, from the Castle of St George of the Gonzaga, which can be dated to the 1460s. The painting, which is not very big, shows how Mantegna, having abandoned the topos of the royalty of the Magi, and excluded crowns from his interpretation, on the other hand, described with great accuracy the vases holding the gifts, embossed, chiselled in gold and decorated with gems.

Adoration of the Magi

Here, the lids bear three visible different kinds: a ruby, a sapphire, and a pearl. The three different exotic stones naturally enhance the protagonists’ Eastern provenance: the three wise men (possibly Persian astrologists and followers of Zoroaster) who had identified the comet and recognised it as the prophesy of an exceptional event, had followed it until they met the Messiah (Mt. 2, 2-12). Not surprisingly, Mantegna’s Renaissance painting style means that he portrays the gems in detail, but this does not explain why they are different from one another: this was probably due to the painter’s desire for variety and to please his customer, marquis Ludovico Gonzaga, who would used to that level of luxury. But it was also possibly an attempt to highlight the different contents of the precious vases.

In fact, the three gifts, gold, frankincense and myrrh, symbolic tributes respectively to the kingship, divinity and humanity of Christ, can be associated with the gems based on the indications of the biblical interpretation.  In this way, the pearl, also called unio, or unique gem, by Pliny - since each oyster cannot contain more than one of them (IX, 123)- and therefore worthy of a monarch, crowns Melchior’s vase containing gold. It is thought to represent the kingship of Christ, and also refer to his chaste conception (see the Madonna by Filippo Lippi). Instead, Balthasar, bearer of frankincense, hands over a vase crowned by a large sapphire, one of the gems that adorn the bases of heavenly Jerusalem, the divine city, a place of Sanctity and virtue (Rev.  21:9 For the exegetes, from St Ambrose to Hugh of Saint Victor, the sapphire represents the sky, and therefore the heavenly dimension. It would therefore have been associated with frankincense due to the ascending movement of its scented smoke which, during liturgical practices would convey the prayers towards the sky, the ultimate divine location.  Finally, the black Mago, Gaspar, who gave Christ myrrh, holds a vase decorated by a large ruby. This substance, used in embalming practices, is an allusion to death, and implicitly underlines the human nature of Christ, who was at once divine and mortal. For exegete Bruno d’Asti (who died in 1125), the ruby, symbol of charity and fire, of which it is the quintessence, represents martyrdom. Mantegna, who was well-learned and harboured a passion for Antiquity, could have learned about the symbolism of the gems in at least two ways: the Holy Scriptures, the study of which by a painter of religious subjects was a requisite for ensuring the eloquence of his works, and Pliny the Elder’s Naturalis Historia. At the time, the Roman polygraph’s work was present in the Gonzaga library in the precious form of a manuscript with a comment by Petrarch.  In the book of the Naturalis Historia dedicated to gems, the Magi are mentioned by the author as keepers of magic-therapeutical knowledge about precious stones. With the exception of their shared knowledge of astrology, no real association exists between the wise men of sacred history and those of Pliny, a mysterious Middle Eastern caste of priest-astrologers, but it is possible that Mantegna took advantage of the ambiguity of the term magi, common to the two sources, to add the three gems and so enrich his pictorial eloquence with an erudite reference that would certainly have impressed the customer.

Madonna of the Rocks

Mantegna’s depiction of  the cloak pin that adorns the Madonna in this small painting is executed with his usual, Flemish precision. The jewel is enhanced by a ruby in the centre, cut à cabochon.

Madonna of the Rocks

The gem, associated with the element of fire, from which it was believed to have been an extract (Pliny XXXVII, 92), represents the ardent love of Mary, who had been capable of giving up her son to redeem humankind. However, in De Universo, exegete Rabanus Maurus affirms that the carbunculus, endowed with the ability to shine with its own light, is the allegory of the Word incarnated, which had been capable of illuminating humankind in the shadows. The three small pearls set in a triangle around the gem in the centre, evoking the virginity of Mary, recall the Trinity in their number, while their characteristic spherical, candid and precious look evokes the perfect purity of Christ, due also to the analogy between Mary’s virginal conception and that of the oyster (see Madonna with Child and Angels by Filippo Lippi) and that of both’s results. In this way, the eloquent pin embodies a combination of the Marian symbolism of virginity and love, and subtle, yet clear references to the Trinity, and to Christ’s mission as the Word incarnated.

Portrait of Barbara Pallavicino

The jewellery set of Barbara, daughter of Rolando II Pallavicino, is extremely luxurious, denoting the prestige of her ancient family. Confirming the authority and social distance of her noble descent, the young girl is depicted in profile, like an ancient cameo or the portraits on the imperial coins.

The jewel, strung sideways on the headband or ferronière, is a fashion choice that makes the opulent pendant visible. The pendant is of the characteristic shape already in vogue since the end of the 15th century, featuring a large emerald in the centre, a ruby at the top and a pear shaped pearl at the bottom.  The jewel has an identifying function, courtesy of its strategic location on the head. The emerald and the pearl prevail over all the other gems, signs of beauty and chastity, but also of fertility, due to the association of the former with the planet Venus and that of the latter with the Moon, both responsible for pregnancy, according to the medical astrology of Marsil Ficin.  This interpretation would be coherent with the matrimonial function of the portrait, possibly destined to introduce Barbara to her future husband, Ludovico Rangoni, condottiero from Modena.

Portrait of Barbara Pallavicino

The emerald, ruby and pearl triad reappears in the pendant on a string of very large round pearls, an unequivocal sign of purity, but the most unusual jewel worn by the girl is a long necklace of black beads, probably jet, a magical jewel also depicted in Leonardo Da Vinci's Lady with an Ermine. Jet is an organic material, a variety of lignite known since Ancient times, and in fact widely mentioned by Hellenistic sources, which suggest that it was used to regularise the menstrual cycle and to gift successful pregnancies to sterile women. In his De mineralibus,Albert the Great recommends it, above all, as a means for revealing whether a woman’s virginity is intact: he claimed, in fact, that if an “impure” woman were served water in which a fragment of jet had been washed, she would immediately feel the urge to urinate, a sure sign of her tainted virtue. And the same author claimed that the black material also warded off the fear of giving birth. These properties would justify the presence of such a plain jewel among the other, openly precious jewels, its function being to introduce Barbara with her virtue intact.

Gypsy Girl

It could be due to that ‘scarf’ wrapped round her head like a chador that the young girl portrayed by Boccaccio Boccaccino, painter from Cremona, earned herself the title of ‘gypsy girl’. But in fact, except for the exotic head covering, which resembles the whimsical, multi-coloured elegance of Giovanni Bellini’s Venice, there is nothing in the young girl’s religious concentration that might allude to the quick thinking and slyness of a gypsy.

Gypsy Girl

Instead, there is something deeply moving and devoted in her that is reinforced by the delicate jewel round her neck: a pendant with a ruby in the centre. A symbol of charity and of unconditional love, due to its well-known link with fire, the ruby is well-suited to the image of a devotee, or a Saint, and the same can be said about the pearls, in a cross formation, which are a reference to Christ and to the purity of the evangelical message.  Although the headband jewel is difficult to interpret, it associates the gypsy girl with the Magdalene depicted by Boccaccino in the Procession to Calvary in London (National Gallery): in fact, the two female figures have similar facial features and their veils are made of the same fabric, although they are worn differently.

Portrait of Pierantonio Baroncelli and Maria Bonciani

Painted by an unknown Flemish master, the two panels, - the remaining parts of a triptych, in the centre of which there may have been a Virgin with Child - depict the spouses Pierantonio Baroncelli and Maria Bonciani, married in 1489. In Bruges, the place they had moved to, Pierantonio and Maria occupied a significant position in local society, as also testified by their many ornaments. 

Portrait of Pierantonio Baroncelli and Maria Bonciani
(Pierantonio Baroncelli)

The gold cross with table-cut diamonds and pear shaped pearls round Pierantonio’s neck is a reference to the owner’s faith and its adamantine tenacity. It is difficult to tell whether this is a Burgundian or a Florentine piece: certainly, when it was painted, the Netherlands was the world’s leading player, for importing diamonds from India, even if it is probably in Italy that how to cut them was first discovered. The hat pin, with its visible image of the Madonna with Child refers, with the devotion of Mary, to the participation of Pierantonio in the spiritualism of the city he had chosen to live in: Bruges, where both the cathedral and the most exclusive confraternities of secular prominent citizens (that of Our Lady of the Dry Tree) were named after the Virgin.

Portrait of Pierantonio Baroncelli and Maria Bonciani
(Maria Bonciani)

The small jewel pointed on Maria Bonciani’s clothing has more of a protective than an ornamental function. It has the shape of an eloquent shell with a pearl hanging down, possibly a minding (souvenir) of a pilgrimage to Compostela, or a reference to the Virgin, whose name the lady bears (see Madonna with Child by Filippo Lippi). Instead, a coral rosary with a pendant in the shape of an agnus dei or lamb of god, connects her to her city of origin: Florence, whose patron saint, St John, had coined the epithet agnus dei.

Portrait of Pierantonio Baroncelli and Maria Bonciani
(Maria Bonciani)

A lavish necklace with floral motifs of coloured enamels and pearls, reminiscent of the jewel of Maddalena Portinari in the triptych by Hugo van der Goes, featuring the same colours and techniques, is a reference to Bruges, the place where both women resided, and the setting for their interwoven stories, as the wives of rich, ambitious Florentine financiers.

Adoration of the Magi

Possibly part of a polyptych painted for Frederick I, the work depicts the Magi with three gifts in the form of three masterpieces of Renaissance goldsmithery. Real objects that the painter might have seen in his father’s workshop, or inventions of someone who had seen that art close-up. Proof of Durer’s personal involvement in the painting is visible in what is probably a self-portrait of the painter, in the bearded, blonde Mago in the centre, who is wearing a curb chain and another gold chain on which a jewel with a ruby hangs, a sign of charity and a reference to his generous heart. An emerald surrounded by pearls on a brooch underlines the wise man’s handsomeness, recalling the hope for Redemption. He is holding a liturgical vase, a pyx, destined to hold the Eucharist for communion, forged in gold, a material that is eternally identical to itself, and a symbol of divinity. 

Adoration of the Magi

The spherical container held by the black Mago has a similar meaning. Its cap terminates with the closed figure of the ouroboros, the snake biting its own tail. The message of eternity is clear, but it is also an obvious reference to sovereignty, since the globe, as well as the sceptre and crown, was a regalia (see the altarpiece of San Giusto by Ghirlandaio). The third pyx offered by the Mago kneeling at the feet of the Child is in the shape of a small box. The shape of this last container, more suited to a reliquary - similar to the specimen in gilded silver and precious stones made in Florence, dated to the second half of the 15th century and preserved in the Museo dell’Opera del Duomo in Florence – could be a reference to the earthly death of the son of God, and therefore an unequivocal sign of his humanity.

Portrait of an Unknown Man

The identity of the protagonist of this portrait is unknown. It was painted by Hans Memling, German master active in Flanders at the end of the 15th century.  The subject was definitely wealthy, as documented by the expensive lynx collar that trims his outer garment. His foreshortened hand in the foreground displays two rings: one worn on the index finger and the other worn on the second bone of the pinky.

Portrait of an Unknown Man

In Flanders in the late 15th century, rings were worn by men and women on both hands, all the finger bones and all the fingers, except the middle finger, known as digitus infamis, believed to be unworthy of decoration since Roman times (Pliny XXXIII, 24), because even back then it was used to make the well-known rude gesture it is used for today. So, the protagonist of the painting was following the trend of the period, but the rings also give us some useful insights into his identity, probably suggesting that he was a financier or a trader, possibly with a public office. This is indicated by the ring on his index finger - defined later, in Giovan Battista della Porta’s Fisiognomica della mano the pointing finger - with its flat red gem, which may have been used as a seal. Although it is hard to make out, and this was possibly the painter’s intention, the object proudly shows off the character’s social position.  It is difficult to tell whether the dark cabochon jewel set in the ring on the pinky finger is turquoise, as the colour would appear to indicate, but the fact that it is not completely pushed on to the finger but instead positioned on the second bone and therefore much more apparent suggests that it played an active role in the dialogue with the beholder, probably protective, that was just as urgent as its representational function. Indeed, this stone was believed as having the ability to save the owner from all dangers.

Portrait of Benedetto Portinari

Part of a triptych, with the Virgin and Child with St Benedict, the panel was considered to be a portrait of Benedetto Portinari, the nephew of Tommaso Portinari, portrayed by Hugo van der Goes in the monumental Triptych of the Uffizi and by Memling himself in the portrait of the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York.

Portrait of Benedetto Portinari

The only detail that the presumed Benedetto has in common with Tommaso is a pinky ring, of interest, above all, for its position, intended to nonchalantly indicate the existence of a rich estate kept under lock and key (see Portrait of a man with a medal).  And in fact, the ring of this Florentine merchant, resident in Flanders, is enhanced by a tiny table-cut sapphire, whereas the one in New York is probably à cabochon. The sapphire was commonly found in the portraits of men. A jovial gem, it was believed capable of attracting prosperity and the benevolence of God and of the humans, as well as protecting the wearer from sudden fevers and all kinds of natural disasters. On the protagonist’s white shirt, we can just catch a glimpse of a golden chain, on which a lorgnette, or lens, is hung, an object that indicated the fragility of the human body, but possibly also stressed the desire or the professional need to see clearly, both physically and spiritually.

Portrait of Sir Richard Southwell

Over the centuries, this portrait has immortalised the features of a character who was well-known, but not extremely famous: Richard Southwell, courtier and right-hand man of King Henry VIII, here in his official role as state official, decorated with a curb chain and a hat pin or einsegne with a cameo bearing the design of a figure.

Portrait of Sir Richard Southwell

The jewel, precursor of a fashion that would flourish about thirty years later, is crafted in commesso, a complex goldsmithery technique which, in a single embossed design, set parts in smooth or enamelled gold alongside parts in carved gemstones. It depicts the head and bust of a black woman with exotic headgear featuring black bands and gold, not a coincidental figurative choice given the key position of the pin, Holbein’s pictorial expertise and well-known skills as a jewellery designer. Richard Southwell, gentleman of the English landed gentry, had embarked upon a brilliant political career between 1534 and 1535 when he was appointed sheriff of the county of Norfolk and Suffolk. At the beginning of 1535, he had taken on an even more significant role at the court of Henry VIII, where he played an active part in confiscating ecclesiastic goods for the benefit of the monarchy.  In that same year, the king passed the Act of Supremacy, divorcing from his wife Catherine of Aragon, to marry Anne Boleyn; by doing this he enraged, among others, humanist philosopher Thomas More, an illustrious member of the government who, by refusing to sign the Act, was imprisoned with the ignominious accusation of high treason, and sentenced to death. Richard Southwell took part in the final questioning of the humanist and the date of the portrait, 10 July 1536, celebrates the anniversary of the incident. Southwell’s hat pin is a reference to that sad event, expressed using a play on words, a pun of the type used in the language of personal emblems: in fact, the subject of the cameo, a black moor, was reminiscent of the sound and spelling of Thomas More’s surname, at the time Moor, and only later becoming More.