Das Gleichnis vom barmherzigen Samariter - der Raubüberfall

Obwohl sich ein veritables OEuvre rekonstruieren lässt, bleibt die Identität dieses Künstlers bis heute ungeklärt. Der Meister des Liechtensteinschen Kabinetts erhielt seinen Notnamen von Friedrich Winkler, weil ein großer Teil seiner Zeichnungen aus der Sammlung des Fürsten von Liechtenstein stammte. Auch eine Radierung mit den Initialen »S. F.« wurde ihm zugeschrieben (nicht bei Hollstein), doch konnte dieses Monogramm bislang nicht aufgelöst werden. Die Zeichnungen des Künstlers besitzen klare Erkennungsmerkmale: Ihre farbige Grundierung ergibt im Zusammenspiel mit grauer Tusche und weißer Deckfarbe einen raffinierten, an Clairobscur- Holzschnitte erinnernden Farbklang. Diesem Effekt begegnet man ähnlich im zeichnerischen Frühwerk des Pieter Coecke van Aelst (1502 – 1550, Allegorische Genreszene, Rotterdam, Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen, Inv. P. Coecke 2), und es ist gut möglich, dass unser Meister in Coeckes Umkreis anzusiedeln ist. Coeckes klassischer Stil wird hier allerdings manieristisch verfremdet: durch bizarre Architektur in gewagter perspektivischer Verkürzung oder durch fantastische, an Werke der Donauschule erinnernde Naturformen.

Wie die beiden Zeichnungen (Inv. 32800, Inv. 32801) zeigen, war der Liechtenstein-Meister ein begabter Erzähler, der den Höhepunkt des Geschehens kunstvoll in die Rahmenhandlung einbettete. In Esther vor Ahasver zeigt die zentrale Szene, wie sich der König Ahasver gnädig seiner Gattin Esther zuwendet, obwohl sich diese ihm ungerufen nähert: Darauf stand am persischen Hof die Todesstrafe (Est 4, 11; 5, 2). Im Hintergrund sehen wir das Gastmahl der Esther, den Triumph ihres einstigen Vormundes Mordechai und die Bestrafung seines Widersachers Haman, der an den für Mordechai bestimmten Galgen gehängt wird. Seine Pläne zur Vernichtung der im Perserreich lebenden Juden wurden durch das mutige Handeln der jüdischen Königin Esther durchkreuzt. Noch heute erinnert das jüdische Purimfest an diese Ereignisse.

 Bosch, Bruegel, Rubens, Rembrandt. Meisterwerke der Albertina, hg. von K. A. Schröder und C. Metzger, Albertina, Wien, Ostfildern 2013, Abb. 29, S. 62.

A man is travelling from Jerusalem to Jericho; thus,

Christ’s parable of the Good Samaritan begins. On

his way, he encounters bandits, who strip off his

clothes and wound him, leaving him for dead. Other

travelers pass by: a priest and a Levite, who ignore

the injured, and a Samaritan—a heretic in the eyes

of the Jews—who pauses, cleans his wounds, and

brings him to a tavern.1

Like [22], this drawing exemplifies the Master

of the Liechtenstein Cabinet’s highly recognizable

chiaroscuro manner. Here, the red tone of the

paper, probably created by using madder, adds to

the gloomy feel of the theme, although we gather

from several scenes featuring the same effect (fig. 1)

that there may have been other, more practical

reasons for choosing the primer. As in Esther before

Ahasuerus, the story is artfully staged. Typical of

the time, the artist chose a forest setting for a scene

that occurred in the Judean desert.2 Its picturesque

trees form an alley, leading our gaze toward the ignorant

passersby (right), and creating a framework

for subplots, such as the robbers’ divvying up of the

victim’s clothes (left; fig. 2).

Surprisingly, the Samaritan as exemplum moralis

is hidden in the shadows, only discovered on careful

viewing. The same is true for the guesthouse at

far right, with the Samaritan on horseback paying

the innkeeper for taking care of the injured. This

scene is drawn as a silhouette against a high

mountain washed in white. Further to the left,

lightly sketched with the point of the brush, a city

is seen with its domes and towers. Both relate to

an ancient interpretation of the parable as analogy

for the journey of life: upon leaving Jerusalem

(paradise) and heading to Jericho (the world), the

possibility of being hijacked would have been a

natural risk.3 The Samaritan’s Christlike acts were

equated with saving the lost and bringing them into

the Church. Indeed, the shape of the inn, akin to

that of a hermitage or forest chapel, reinforces this

interpretation.

Above all, the artist focused on the robbery itself,

which is rendered violently, the victim’s contorted

limbs appearing almost dislocated. He is grabbed

by strong hands and threatened with sharp weapons—

a nightmare for any traveler. And this may be

exactly what our drawing is about. In the sixteenth

century, the risk of being attacked and robbed was

real—especially in times of war and revolt. A peripatetic

artist,4 the Master of the Liechtenstein Cabinet

may have been well familiar with this threat.

The fact that the robbers in the present drawing

are dressed like contemporary Landsknechte

(German mercenaries), with bloomers and slashed

arms (fig. 3), certainly adds a slice of reality to the

depicted scene. With this sheet, the Master of the

Liechtenstein Cabinet again distinguished himself

with his high degree of innovation.5

1. Luke 10:30–36.

2. The analogizing of the biblical desert to the Northern

European forest can already be seen in the late Middle Ages and

was first observed in depictions of the story of John the Baptist;

see Bartilla 2000, 104, 123–26; examples include [46, 47]. Applying

this comparison to the parable of the Good Samaritan, however,

was a phenomenon featured only in the second half of the

sixteenth century; see Bartilla 2000, 123.

3. For this interpretation according to Origenes, see Poeschke in

Kirschbaum et al. 1968–76, 4:col. 24–26.

4. See Winkler 1963; Wegner 1970. Geissler 1979, 2:170–72,

describes him as “Wanderkünstler und nicht sicher lokalisierbares.”

The most recent summary of his assumed biography is given by

Bleyerveld in Bleyerveld et al. 2014, 122. In the present drawing,

the influence of the Danube school is most notably reflected in

the trees with their drooping lichens.

5. Marauder as pictorial theme is found in Netherlandish art

from the 1560s onward; see Bartilla 2000, 161–62.

Emily J. Peters, Laura M. Ritter (Hg.), AK Tales of the City. Drawing in the Netherlands from Bosch to Bruegel, Cleveland Museum of Art 9.10.2022 - 8.1.2023, New Haven 2022, Kat. Nr. 23